a
fixer-upper, right?” Ron asked.
Greg nodded. “The ad mentioned
‘extensive fire-damage’ but this looks a lot better than I
imagined.”
Ron stopped walking.
“ Oh, hey, a takeout
window!” Greg said, pointing. “This is great! That’ll save us even
more money on the renovation!”
But Ron wasn’t looking at the takeout
window. “What’s that?” he asked.
Focused as he was on the drive-thru,
Greg had failed to notice the giant hole in the wall of trees
beyond the restaurant, or the enormous four-lane road that extended
off the parking lot, stretching to a pinpoint in the far depths of
the surrounding forest.
Greg gaped at the sight. “Holy, shit!”
he laughed. “And you were worried about being too far from the
highway!”
Ron ignored the comment and approached
the road. A gust of wind ushered a group of dead leaves across the
concrete, but, other than that, the vast avenue appeared as vacant
as a desert wasteland.
No cars.
No people.
Just a wide lane of unbroken grey
cement that receded into the distant shadows.
“ You don’t think this is a
bit strange?” he asked.
Greg shrugged. “Could be under
construction… Maybe it’s a new expansion to the
Interstate?”
“ Leading to a restaurant?”
Ron replied. “There’s no median, no streetlights—”
The sound of wheels crunching over
gravel broke into the conversation, and they both looked toward the
parking lot.
“ That must be the realtor,”
Greg remarked. “We can ask her about it.”
They headed back toward the car. Ron
let Greg lead the way, lingering behind just long enough to cast
one last glance at the unusual forest road. They’d walked only a
short distance, but from his new perspective he noted how the trees
shielded it from sight, the branches interlacing overhead,
enclosing it like a tunnel.
Greg threw a hand against his chest,
halting him in his tracks.
“ God bless the locals!” his
friend said. Then, before Ron had a chance to get his meaning, the
man resumed walking, stealthily adding, “Be a pal and let the
single guy do the talking…”
Ron followed his line of sight to
where he spotted the realtor exiting her vehicle.
Dwarfed by the SUV she’d arrived in,
the petite young woman looked in need of a climbing harness to get
from the driver’s seat to the ground. On the contrary, she moved
with an athletic grace, seeming to flow from one position to the
next. Out in the open, her long blonde hair caught the full
radiance of the sun, contrasting with the black material of her
pants and jacket, which hugged the trim contours of her
body.
He thought of Diane back home, so far
away, knowing that if they did indeed buy the restaurant he’d
become a local himself for the first several months of operation,
overseeing the renovation and training all the staff.
Ahead of him Greg looked back,
twitched his eyebrows.
Ron shook his head and
followed.
This is
business , he opened his mouth to say before the other
man was out of earshot, but stopped short when his gaze once again
shifted to the girl. She still stood next to the open door of her
sport utility, a blatant expression of perplexity creasing the skin
across her brow. Her full attention remained focused straight
ahead, staring at the restaurant, and she didn’t even notice Greg
approaching until he’d closed within the last ten feet of
her.
She spun to face him as if suddenly
realizing she was in the shadow of a grizzly bear.
“ We’ll take it!” Greg
declared before she had a chance to say anything.
Ron watched the look of fear mix with
another fleeting flash of bewilderment, and then she was laughing
with embarrassment. Her voice sounded melodic in the open woodland
air.
“ You must be Mr. Brunik,”
the woman said, offering Greg her hand. “Wendy Thomas. We spoke on
the phone.”
“ It’s nice to finally meet
the woman the beautiful voice belongs to,” he said.
Her smile stiffened at the corners,
becoming more perfunctory than
Learning to Kill: Stories