Page 31 of Harboring Secrets
“Turn left up here.” I pointed at the next street I wanted Liam to take. “Nah, the postcards were for me. I don’t know why I started it. I mean, sometimes I’d send Mom a postcard, or one to Shane or Kieran, but mostly I sent them to myself. I guess I wanted to remember.”
“What are you going to do with all of them?”
“Well, see, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
Liam took the left like I’d asked and soon we were on the outskirts of town. The houses started to spread out more. Tall pines stood vigil on either side of the highway.
“In the winter, when we get a big dump of snow, I like to come this way and see the branches all weighed down with it. It’s even better if the sky has cleared so it’s blue and the snow is sparkling.” The weather had turned a little colder now as winter approached, or I’d have rolled the window down to feel the air on my skin. When I was a kid I thought I could catch the wind. But that’s because kids were innocent and foolish.
After driving for about twenty minutes, signs appeared advertising for a service station slash thrift store slash restaurant.
“Pull in there,” I told Liam.
He was obedient without question, even though I could see thewhat the fuckexpression on his face. It was probably the scrap metal scarecrow that had him wondering where the fuck I’d taken him.
“There’s a local artist who does those.” I motioned to the sculpture. “He teaches shop at the high school, but in his free time, he does that.” I’d always envied people who had a talent. I’d never been particularly good at anything. I could draw a mean stickman if I put my mind to it.
“He’s very skilled.”
Liam and I got out of the car and wandered over for a closer look.
“I’d never be able to look at a pile of scrap and say ah, yes, there’s a scarecrow in here, and just”—Liam gestured wildly at the scarecrow—“make this appear.”
“It makes my head spin.”
Liam moved around the sculpture to examine it from all angles, but I stayed put. I’d seen it before and it no longer held the same level of awe that it had when it first appeared. He came to stand next to me, so close that our arms brushed against each other.
“Come on,” I said, breaking away. “Inside.”
I set off without waiting to see if he would follow. He would. He’d followed me halfway around the world already.
The restaurant was deserted except for a few older men who seemed to always be sitting at the same table drinking coffee and chatting away. I gave them a friendly wave and skirted past them and into the other section of the building. The one that was stuffed full of treasures.
Metal signs advertising everything from soda brands to ones that told stupid jokes. Touch lamps with glass panels decorated with images of wildlife. Salt shaker sets. Every kind of knickknack you could think of. And buried in the back corner, an old style pinball machine.
“Does that thing still work?” Liam asked me.
“You bet your ass it does.” I reached into my pocket and fished out a quarter. “When you stepped into the bathroom at Bennett’s, I got Ethan to get me some quarters.”
I flipped one in the air and caught it. “Want to play?”
Liam held his hand out and I dropped the coin into it. I showed him where the coin slot was and where the buttons were for the flippers.
“Your first quarter doesn’t count.” I told him when his first ball went straight past his flippers and into the gutter. “But after that, it’s on.”
Liam glanced over at me. “Why do I get the feeling that you’ve done this before?”
“Because I have. I used to beg Mom to bring me out here. When she did, she’d sit and have a coffee and I’d sink quarters into this machine until she made me leave.”
Liam, as it turned out, was horrible at pinball. Originally, I’d planned to let him get a few quarters under his belt, then challenge him to a friendly competition, but that was never going to happen.
After a couple of dollars sank into the machine, Liam stepped away with a laugh.
“I think you should give me a tutorial. Show me how it’s done.”
“Prepare to be amazed.”
I sank my quarter into the machine, pulled the rod that slammed into the ball to shoot it into play, and then I was transported back in time as my hands flew to the trigger buttons on each side of the machine.
