Page 125 of Rust

Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.

I stood up and yelled. “Stop the bus! STOP!”

My teammates looked at me like I was mad. “What’s up, Rusty?”

I ran to the front and pleaded with the bus driver. “Open the door, man. Lemme off. I gotta get off.”

Killer sat in the front seats with the rest of the coaches. “What the fuck are you doing, Walker? We can’t let you off here, we’ve got a flight to catch.”

“I’ll fly back on my own,” I said, shaking the doors. “I gotta do something first. I gotta talk to somebody. Lemme off.”

The bus driver slowed to a stop and looked to Killer for what to do.

Killer sighed and quietly said, “Alright. Let him off. But you betterbe back in Vegas tomorrow. We’ve got to start prepping for Edmonton on Sunday.”

“I will. I promise.”

The doors opened, and I scampered off the bus and called a taxi.

* * *

Sitting in the back of the cab, my foot bounced impatiently. The twenty minute drive to White Bear Lake felt like an eternity. I’ll admit, I didn’t have much of a plan beyond asking for a way to reach Isabelle. But as soon as I climbed into the taxi, inspiration struck, and I knewexactlywhat I had to do.

Around eleven o’clock, the taxi pulled up to a stop outside the two-story suburban home.

“This it?” the driver asked incredulously.

The lights were off. It didn’t look like anyone was home. Maybe they were asleep already?

“Yeah, this is it.”

“You want me to wait?”

If they didn’t answer, I’d wait on the porch until morning. This was my only chance, after all.

“Nah, you can take off. I’m not going anywhere.”

I paid him and watched him drive off into the night. Alone again, I walked up the driveway and stood on the porch. I looked down at the welcome mat, personalized with their family name, “The Roccos.”

I knocked and waited. Through the blinds, an amber light flicked on.

Thank God. Someone was home.

The door opened and Eleanor answered. It’d been five or so years since I’d last seen her, yet she hadn’t aged a day. It was obvious where Isabelle got her beauty from.

“Rust?” she asked, surprised.

“Eleanor. Hi. Sorry to show up unannounced at this hour.”

“That’s okay. Come in. What brings you here?”

“I’m not sure how much you’ve heard about things lately,” I began as I stepped in.

“Izzy’s told me everything,” she said. “How are you holding up, Rust?”

“Not so good,” I admitted.

“I’m sorry,” she said, offering a sympathetic frown. “Izzy’s pretty broken up about it, too.”

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