He pulled the truck in and got out, looked around then made his way over and cupped his hand to the darkly tinted windows. That’s when he saw him, passed out inside or dozing. Noah knocked on the window and Dax opened his eyes and a smirk formed.
A moment later, Noah stepped back as the side door skirted to one side and he was greeted by the sight of someone that didn’t look anything like his old friend. A wall of weed attacked Noah’s senses. He reminded him of a hippie from a rock festival.
“Well look at you, fancy man,” Dax said with a wide grin.
“I was about to say the same.” Noah motioned to his dreadlocks. Gone was the choirboy look. The prim and proper guy his parents had raised. Even after Dax’s parents divorced, he still kept that short hair. Not anymore. It looked equally unusual on him as he was a white dude. Somehow dreads seemed to suit black people better. A cultural thing perhaps? Still, it kind of worked for Dax. He had a well-groomed beard and was wearing a colorful hipster shirt with a black undershirt and loose-flowing pants, and his neck was adorned with mala beads. His earlobes were pieced with large black earrings that made them look bigger than they were. A large and imposing man, he was every bit as intimidating as he was back when they were youngsters. He’d towered over Noah even then.
“You’ve grown,” Dax said.
“So has your hair.”
Dax ran a hand through it and removed something holding it all in, and the whole lot came cascading down past his shoulders. “Yeah. Decided to change it up. I might shave it off soon. Been rocking this for six years now. But forget me. Look at you.” Dax grabbed him firmly by both arms. “All spiffy in that shirt and suit. Please tell me you ditch that on the weekends,” he said, skirting around and soaking him in.
Noah glanced inside the van. Dax noticed.
“You living out of this?”
“I am. Temporarily. Well, to be honest, I have been for the past eighteen months since my girlfriend turfed me out of our apartment. It’s an on-and-off thing we have. It’s actually not bad.”
“The relationship or the vehicle?”
Dax laughed. “The vehicle. Let me show you around.” He was all wide-eyed and full of wonder. “The container on the roofslides open, I keep all my outdoor gear and dirty clothes in there until I need to hit up the laundromat. The solar panel's power all my gear inside. It’s a hundred watt.” He went around the rear of the van and popped it open. “I tore out the old seating. I now have a backward-facing couch that’s holding all my sleeping blankets. Then we’ve got shelving with containers that hold all of my clothes, and things I need. I’ve got a stove that slides out here.” He rattled on, taking him through it and showing how he could convert the inside seat into a bed that was big enough for him and one other person. Noah had seen the high-end Sprinter vans that were converted into a tiny home on wheels but this was a far cry from that. Nothing fancy. All low end but strangely appealing. “I have a portable cooler, a Jackery that works hand in hand with the solar panels on the roof. Then I have two five-gallon jugs that use a water bottle pump which operates off a battery.”
He looked as if he was trying hard to make it clear that he wasn’t a bum.
“Impressive.”
“If life gives you lemons…”
“Make lemonade.”
“Exactly.”
“So what do you do in the winter? They close up these parks.”
He leaned against the van with one hand and looked out across the ocean of trees. A mild wind blew in a warm summer breeze carrying the scent of the earth. “Yeah, that can get a little tricky, but a friend of mine lets me park on his farm over the winter. I’m not sure I’ll stay there again this season but we’ll see,” he said, closing the door and locking it.
As they turned toward his truck, Dax stepped back and admired it. “This yours?”
“It’s a rental.”
Axel was panting, his muzzle sticking out of the rear window.
“You brought a dog?”’
“It’s Luke’s.”
“Of course it is. Is he safe?”
“As long as I don’t give him the apprehension command and you aren’t carrying narcotics.”
Dax gave him a wary look and sniffed his own shirt.
Noah laughed. “Don’t worry. He’s fine. Get in.”
“I see you left the Ferrari at home,” Dax said, skirting around and jumping in the passenger side. He sniffed hard and ran his hands over his pants as Noah slipped behind the wheel and fired it up. Dax glanced back at Axel who now had his paws perched on the console between. He really needed a Tahoe with a kennel in the back, like the kind most K-9 officers drove.
“I drive a Jeep Wrangler,” Noah said.