Chapter 2
2849words
They walked into the shop while the tow truck driver dealt with unloading their car. Surprisingly, there wasn’t a line. An overweight, balding man helped them out. His name tag read “Ralph.”
“I’m here because I have a flat tire,” Waylon said. “A tow truck just dropped us off.”
“No problem.” Ralph poked at a tablet on the desk. “Name?”
“Waylon Barstow.”
“Waylon Barstow. Aren’t you our mayor?”
“Sure am.” For the first time since they left the house, Waylon smiled. “I’m running for governor next term.”
“Sounds great.”
Sebastian struggled to keep his eyes from rolling. Through a back door into the garage, he spotted a man with wavy black hair past his ears. Tall, a bit on the thin side. He might have had a handsome face.
The man walked through the doorway. He definitely had a handsome face, with high cheekbones and a defined jawline. His closely-trimmed beard and tan skin gave him a rugged appearance. Sebastian looked away. More so out of habit than fear these days. Still, it had been the longest he’d allowed himself to look at a man his age since he left that camp.
The man wore the typical mechanic uniform of a blue button-up smock with matching blue pants. His name tag read “Axel.” An appropriate name for a mechanic. Axel handed a sheet of paper to Ralph and said, “This one’s ready.”
“I’ll call them in a few. I’m helping the mayor right now!” Ralph beamed.
“Wonderful,” Axel said flatly, not even looking at Waylon. Sebastian got the feeling Axel didn’t particularly care for his father. But his brown eyes did land on Sebastian for a second. There might have been a hint of a smile. It gave Sebastian a fluttering sensation in his stomach, followed by dread. He pulled his eyes away from Axel again.
“He’s got a flat,” Ralph explained to Axel. “A tow truck's unloading it in the back. I want you to prioritize that one.”
“But there’s two other cars that-”
“Prioritize his!”
“Okay, okay.” Grumbling, Axel walked back through the door to the garage.
Ralph asked them to sit in the empty waiting area. There were several chairs, and a TV playing an old sitcom. Sebastian spent that time thinking about Axel. How handsome he was. That feeling he got in his stomach.
This was bad. Very bad. Sebastian was supposed to be over men. But he saw Axel return from the garage and perked up, fighting his natural urge to look away. Because why should he force himself to avoid looking at this man? Nobody was there to punish him for it. Except maybe his father. But he had his attention on his phone while his mother had her eyes on the TV.
Axel said something to Ralph, and Ralph walked over.
“Good news! It only needs to be patched. We’ll have it done in ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” Waylon said.
A few minutes passed by. Sebastian caught himself staring at that door behind the front desk. Hoping to see Axel again. Hating that he was hoping for such a thing. He really needed to snap out of this. It wasn’t like he’d see the man again anyway.
The thought filled him with disappointment.
Axel walked through the back door. Sebastian straightened while Axel said something to Ralph.
“How the hell did you manage that!” Ralph shouted.
“I’m sorry!”
They spoke in hushed tones, then walked over to Waylon, who eyed them warily. Sebastian stared at the wall behind Axel, not daring to look at him anymore than he already had.
“The tire is good as new,” Ralph said. “But there’s something else we need to fix.”
“It’s our fault,” Ralph said quickly. “You won’t have to pay for it.”
“Won’t have to pay for what?” Waylon raised his tone.
Axel had stared at the floor during the entire exchange. Ralph elbowed him in the side, and Axel slowly met Waylon’s eyes. “I accidentally broke the brake rotor.”
“How the hell did you manage that!” Waylon shouted.
Sebastian covered his mouth to hide a snicker.
“I’m working on fixing it, but it’ll be another half hour.” Axel paused. “At least.” He hurried off before Waylon could respond.
Ralph apologized again, and followed.
“What an idiot,” Waylon grumbled.
As Maple’s eyes first swept around the creepy basement, she felt disappointed. There wasn’t anything but old barrels and crates. The trunk pushed off in a dark corner only contained clothes. She was ready to leave, but Jake had the bright idea of seeing what was under the trunk. He pushed it aside, revealing a hidden trap door.
Of course, they both went down it. Why wouldn’t they? There was a small ladder to climb back up if they needed to. It was pitch black in there, so they turned on the flashlights on their watches to see.
The secret room under the basement appeared to be some sort of shelter room. One to take cover in during a war or a natural disaster. There were crates filled with food rations and water bottles. Spare clothes and blankets. Even a generator. Maple’s flashlight landed on a portable lantern. She turned it on. The lighting was dim, and gave off a yellow glow. But it was an improvement. Maple placed it in the center of the room. She and Jake turned off their flashlights.
“This is disappointing,” Jake said, stalking the perimeter of the room. “I was hoping to come across jewels or treasure maps of something.”
“I was thinking we’d find a dead body.”
“That wouldn’t have been creepy at all.” Jake poked around a crate of food, pulling out a can of peaches. “Do you think they’d find our dead bodies if we ate this?”
“I don’t know. Try it and find out.” Maple spotted a bag of plastic utensils in a box. “There’s even spoons here.”
“Good, I’m hungry. Wanna share?”
Maple pulled out two spoons while Jake popped the tab on the lid off. She sat next to him, and handed him a spoon.
“Is this one of those disposable spoons?” Jake’s voice was filled with scorn.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with them?”
“They’re terrible for the environment.”
Maple had heard that somewhere before, but she’d also heard it was a myth. “They’re not that bad.”
“Not that bad? I bet your landfills are full of this garbage.” Jake took a bite of the peaches. “God, it tastes weird.”
“Are they too old to eat then?”
“Not the peaches. Those are okay. It’s the spoon that tastes weird.”
Maple took a spoonful of her own, and tried it. The peaches were surprisingly good. And the spoon didn’t bother her at all. “Tastes fine to me. Have you never used plastic silverware?”
“Nope. They’re illegal in California.”
“That’s where you moved here from?”
“Yeah. I lived there my whole life.”
Maple had heard only bad things about California, but Jake sounded as though he missed it. “What’s it like?”
“A mansion like this wouldn’t be owned by one person, for starts.” Jake took another bite of peaches. “The government owns most of the housing. People can buy a normal-sized house if they want, but they’re limited to only one. And they have to live in it. No renting it out.”
“That sounds strict.”
“It’s to make sure everyone has a roof over their head. If corporations and rich assholes took over housing to make a profit, people would be priced out of homes and apartments. They’d get thrown out if they lost their job and couldn’t pay rent. Bet that happens here all the time.”
“Not really.” Though Maple wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of the housing market. “Why would anyone bother working anyway, if they don’t have to pay rent?”
“To afford to do fun stuff. Like concerts and vacations and things. Our universal basic income is only enough to buy cheap food and necessities.”
“Universal basic income?”
“Yeah. Everyone gets a check from the government every month.”
Maple stared at him. She was no expert in economics, but it didn’t seem possible. “How can the government afford all that?”
“By taxing the hell out of people like Barry. Billionaires aren’t a thing there. Once you reach half a billion, the rest of what you make gets taxed.” Jake scooped another spoonful of peaches and sighed. “That’s one of the reasons why we moved here. My dad wants to make more money, but he keeps getting hit with high taxes. So he took his business and left.”
Maple could easily imagine a lot of businesses doing the same. “There must not be many businesses there.”
“There’s not. The government takes care of a lot of of the essentials. But for-profit businesses still exist.”
California didn’t sound as bad as everyone around her seemed to think. There must be some sort of catch, aside from no plastic spoons. Perhaps Jake was telling a biased version of it. She’d heard Californians had smug and superior attitudes about living there. Nice as he had been otherwise, Jake gave off that vibe.
“So, what’s your deal?” Jake asked. “Someone said something about you getting married off?”
Maple had forgotten about the reason she was dragged to the mansion to begin with. Her brothers had been on a mission to find her a husband. Something she absolutely did not want. Every man they tried setting her up with was either controlling, patronizing, or had wandering hands. Usually all three. “Right. I’m of marrying age, so my brothers are looking for a husband for me.”
“They’re looking? Not you?”
“They need to make sure he’s right for me. Men have better judgment.”
“Men have better judgment?”
“Of course.” Maple scraped at bottom of the can for the last remains.
“You’ve got better judgment than half the men I’ve met. I think you’re more than capable of picking out your own husband.”
Something strange happened inside Maple at those words. A twist in her stomach that brought on a surge of joy. It was a feeling she had never felt before. “Really?”
“Yeah.” Jake checked his watch. “We should get back. People are going to wonder where we’ve been.”
Maple set her spoon in the can Jake held, and stood up alongside him. They climbed up the ladder, and closed the trap door behind them. Jake shoved the trunk back over it, and they walked up the basement stairs.
Jake opened the door. The burst of light hurt Maple’s eyes for a few seconds. When they adjusted, Maple saw her brothers, Barry, and Jake’s father standing in front of her.
“You two sure are getting along great.” There was a hint of a smile on Carter’s face as he said it. Did that mean he wanted to arrange for her to marry Jake? So far, he was the only man who wasn't repulsive.
“Come on, Jake.” Jake’s father patted him on the shoulder. “We can go home now.”
“It was nice meeting you,” Jake said to Maple. “Hopefully we’ll see each other around.”
Maple tried to hide a smile. “Hopefully.”
Finally, Ralph told Waylon his car was ready. They walked over to the register, where Waylon paid and Ralph handed over the keys.
“Maybe everyone will still be at the party,” Waylon said on their way to the car.
Sebastian doubted it.
They approached the car. Waylon stop to stare at his door. “What’s this?”
“What’s what?” Celine asked. Sebastian followed her to the driver’s side.
Waylon pointed at his door. “Do you see that? This wasn’t here before!”
Sebastian leaned in, squinting. It took him a second to notice the small scratch. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal!”
It wasn’t. A little buffing would get rid of it. Sebastian rubbed his finger against it. Nothing. He lifted the hem of his shirt to try using that, but Waylon pushed him aside.
“No. They put that scratch there. They need to fix it!” Waylon stormed back into the shop. Celine followed with a quiet sigh. Sebastian would rather not see shop workers berated, so he stayed behind. He studied the scratch, wondering if it had been there earlier but unnoticed.
Ralph, Axel, and his parents returned. Waylon shoved Sebastian out of the way, with enough force to knock him to the ground. Waylon pointed at the scratch. “Right there!”
As Waylon shouted, Axel helped Sebastian up. “Are you okay?”
Sebastian wiped dirt off his pants, avoiding his brown eyes. Disgusted with himself for the giddy feeling in his chest. “Yeah.” He noticed Axel had oil marks all over his hands, which had rubbed off onto his own. But Axel had moved his attention to the scene unfolding between Waylon and Ralph.
“Where?” Ralph frowned at the door. “I don’t see anything.”
“That, there.” Waylon pointed again.
“That little thing?” Axel remarked. “Are you sure it wasn’t already there, and you’re just now noticing it?”
“Yes, I’m sure!”
“We’ll fix it for you, and take 10% off your bill,” Ralph jumped in, shooting Axel a look.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Axel said.
Several minutes later, Axel returned with some sort of spray bottle and a rag. He sprayed at the scratch, then rubbed the mark with the towel. It came off easily. “There you go.” Axel patted the door with his oil-slicked hands, accidentally smearing some on the door.
Waylon’s eyes widened at him.
“Sorry!” Axel rubbed the grease mark on the door with his finger, realized his mistake, and alternated to the rag. That only smeared it more. He sprayed at it with the bottle, but it just made a watery mess. Sebastian fought back a fit of giggles that caught his mom’s attention. Thankfully, she didn’t say anything.
Ralph grabbed the bottle and the rag. “Come on. Let’s get a bucket of water and a sponge.”
As Ralph and Axel left, Waylon muttered something about Axel being a stupid Hispanic.
Sebastian folded his arms. Did his father really need to drag the man’s race into this? “Seriously?”
“Well he is.” Waylon gazed upon his grease-covered door in sorrow. As though it were permanent, and not something that could be washed off. “Probably the dumbest one in town.”
"Probably the only one in town," Celine said.
Axel and Ralph returned. Ralph carrying a bucket of soapy water, Axel carrying a sponge.
“I’ll do it,” Ralph said.
“I’m really sorry,” Axel said to Waylon, who huffed.
In no time, Ralph had the mess cleaned up. The door pristine and scratch-free.
“Thank you,” Waylon said to Ralph, ignoring Axel altogether.
“Come inside, I’ll give you that discount.”
Waylon followed Ralph, while Celine got in the car. Axel walked away, and Sebastian caught up with him. “Hey.”
Axel turned around.
Sebastian slid his hands in his pockets, his attention on the pavement. “I’m sorry about my dad. He gets like that.”
“It’s fine.” Axel flicked his hand. “I’ve dealt with worse.”
That was a depressing response. Sebastian didn’t know what to say.
“Do you have to live with him?” Axel asked.
“Unfortunately. I’d move out but I’m comfortable where I’m at. I’d also need a job, but no one’s hiring.” Sebastian snuck a glimpse at Axel. His black hair was dark brown in the sunlight. Their hair was almost the same color. But Sebastian’s was straight and came to his jawline. Axel’s was wavy, only long enough to cover his ears.
“I would think the mayor’s son wouldn’t have a problem getting anything,” Axel said.
Sebastian looked back at the ground. “You would think.” Truth was, he was still blacklisted. All because he had been caught on video locking lips with another man. He wondered if Axel knew about that. He was probably old enough at the time.
“Is it because of that… scandal?”
So he did know. Sebastian nodded.
“It’s okay. I think that’s a stupid thing to blacklist people for.”
Sebastian looked up at Axel, who tapped at his watch. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” Axel looked him dead in the eye, as though trying to communicate something deeper. But all it did was fill Sebastian with anxiety. “Let me give you my number. If you want to talk more about that. Or, anything.”
It was a strange request. One Sebastian should turn down, if he knew what was good for him. But he didn’t. Instead, Sebastian tapped the “Receive Number” button on his own watch, then touched it to Axel’s.
In the distance, Sebastian spotted Waylon approaching. Hopefully he couldn't tell what they were doing. “You better go.”
Axel took one look at Waylon and bolted. Literally.
“What was that about?” Waylon asked as he approached Sebastian. “Border patrol show up?” He chuckled at his joke.
Without a word, Sebastian stalked off to the car, wishing he wasn’t the son of Waylon Barstow.
