Page 5 of Tide Over

There’s not much here as I drive through in search of a gas station, passing a community hall, a small pub, a little church, an art studio… and that’s about it. Just when I start to think it’s a lost cause and I should turn back to the highway, I spot a sign up ahead for gas.

It’s a log cabin with the name “MacKinnon’s General Store” over the entrance, with two gas pumps outside. I pull up to the pump and hop out, and I can’t help but chuckle to myself when I try to pre-pay at the pump. It’s a fucking log cabin in the middle of nowhere, of course it doesn’t take payment out here.

I stick the nozzle into the fuel tank of my truck and look across the street to the water as I wait for it to fill up. Thestore has a clear view of a cove, and I watch as several fishing boats make their way in. My mind starts to wander as I keep my eyes on them, and I finally start questioning what the fuck I’m doing. In just a couple hours I’ll be at the end of the province, surrounded by ocean with only two options. Turn around and go back the way I came, or keep going and let the highway take me along the western loop of Nova Scotia… which will bring me to Cape Breton.

Or the third option.

Continue on into the ocean.

If only I had the courage to accept that I should be running from myself, rather than the consequences of my actions.

Laughter from the front of the store pulls me back into reality, and I glance at the porch where a group of men are sitting, talking amongst themselves as they look over the water. With a sigh, I shove my thoughts back down into the depths of my darkness. I’ll deal with them eventually. But not right now.

Once my truck is filled, I put the pump back in place and head up the steps to the store to go pay.

One of the men turns his head to me with a nod and a smile. “Good afternoon.”

I nod back at him as I reach for the door. “Hi.”

A few of the other men eye me curiously, clearly wondering who this stranger is in their tiny coastal town hidden away from the rest of the province. But they all smile and greet me regardless.

As I enter the store, I’m not at all surprised to see it looking exactly how I imagined it would. It’s a homey market-style store, with baskets and shelves of bread and other baked goods on one side, and shelves everywhere that make up aisles and areas for grocery and household essentials. The wooden floorboards creak as I walk towards the cooler in the back of the store, and thesmell of freshly baked bread and coffee immediately gives me a sense of comfort I haven’t felt in a long time.

A man about ten or so years older than me smiles in greeting as he passes me on his way to the front counter, and I give him a nod as I pull open the cooler door and grab a bottle of water. There’s chatter at the counter as an older gentleman buys a cup of coffee, and he talks to the guy who served him as if they know each other well. When he heads out to join the other men on the porch, the other man takes his place and they start chatting away too. For such a small town, this little store is busy. But I didn’t see much of anything else on my drive in, so I guess that makes sense. And it’s not like I have anywhere to be in any hurry, so I wait and hang back by the selection of local crafts, admiring the wood carvings of whales, pottery mugs, and sea glass art. But since the store is so small, I can’t help but overhear the conversation between the two men.

“How’s it going today?” the man asks as he sets his items down on the counter.

“Not bad, how are you doing?”

I glance over at them, and I’m surprised to see the guy working here looks to be about my age. I’m not sure why, but I expected someone older, not in his late twenties.

“Can’t complain.” The older man tosses a pack of gum onto the counter, and the guy behind it rings that up too. “I know you’re busy with fishing and other jobs,” the customer says, “but whenever you get some time, I’m hoping to have you out to the farm to either fix my barn door, or build a new one. Whichever you think it needs. It’s going to bite the dust soon, I think.”

The guy nods. “Yeah, I can do that for you this weekend.”

The other one chuckles. “Knew you’d say that. No rush, you’ve got a lot on your plate, and it’s working well enough for now.”

The guy working shakes his head and slides the stuff across the counter. “I’m up your way Saturday anyway to finish putting down some flooring for Paul. I can do it after that, it’s no problem.”

I watch as the older guy picks up his items and slowly shakes his head with a smile. “Just like your father. Thanks, Theo. I appreciate it.”

The guy, Theo I guess, gives him a lopsided smile, and the customer heads towards the door with a wave. “Have a good one!”

Once he’s gone, I approach the counter, set my water down, and pull out my wallet. “And gas.” I tilt my head towards the pump outside.

He punches a few buttons on the register and glances out the window to my truck. “Long way from Alberta.”

I look out the window as well, where my Alberta licence plate is visible. “Yeah. Just got into Nova Scotia this morning.”

His eyebrows lift with surprise. “Quite the drive.”

I nod, taking my bank card out. “Moving back.”

He chuckles lightly, flipping the card reader towards me. “Don’t hear that too often.”

“I know,” I say with a breath of laughter as I tap my card to pay. “I just couldn’t do it out there anymore.”

As the receipt prints, he seems to observe me for a moment. Then he rips it off the machine and holds it out to me. “I can understand that.”

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