orangetoughguy | log post II

[The walk home's been uneventful so far because Freddy here has been quiet thanks to their ordeal. While it was a cursed one it was a none too pleasant reminder of that sordid experience. Worse yet, he's left the curse in a cold sweat, stinking of the prairie, feeling sore from all that writhing, and fucking exhausted.]

[Silence is perfectly agreeable to the old man. Larry is working on is second cigarette. There's no blood on him, though he feels dirty. All the ground covered from where they've been, that fucking day came back somehow. Just as fresh.

He side glances at the kid, not yet saying anything.]

[For whatever reason Freddy's got no cigarettes on him, but instead of asking for the one Larry's working on he just holds his hand out to the old man, expecting him to understand the point of the gesture.]

[Huh? Oh. Larry pulls the cigarette from his mouth--hey, it's alright lit and started. And it isn't the most intimate contact they've had. In fact, they've come along way.]

Take it. It's yours.

[Already he is fishing for another Chesterfield for himself.]

[The kid gives a slight nod of thanks before taking a drag off that stick. The filter on this is something he'll never get used to and it shows in the way his eyes kind of narrow and his mouth purses, but the taste is good. It reminds him of Larry. Finally the silent wonder speaks.]

Thanks.

You're welcome.

[For the cigarette. For taking care of him in the back seat of a car, or in the most roomy part of a covered wagon, well, I guess that would apply too.]

Sure different.

[That too. The curse, how far they've come or not so much.]

Nothin' hurts?

[The double meanings don't escape Freddy Newendyke's detection.]

Naw, nothin' hurts.

[Except maybe his pride. It's not a total lie because the kid doesn't hurt so much as feel sore as hell, like he went through a gauntlet instead of nearly bled to death. He brushes not-so-floppy sweat-dried hair from his forehead.]

You?

[Nodding, more nodding.]

I didn't care for that one.

[Tell the man something he doesn't know! Larry lights up the next cigarette. It's needed..]

That's not at all what I had pictured the movies to be like. [First inhale. Ah.]

Sure is different than the movies.

[Folks die from direct shots from the get go. He signs and attempts a physical shake as though that'll help. When he blinks he swears he can see blood red.]

You got to play with horses though.

[Freddy adds under a stream of smoke, taking in the good with the bad. The horses were cool right? The snake and (alleged) bear and what not well not so much.]

Yeah.

[That's not a big enough perk.]

You sure looked like hell.

[Too real for a curse, wouldn't it have been more deadly if it were the old west or wherever that's from. He takes a deep, deep drag of his cigarette.]

[So much for the perk. Freddy exhales, green eyes on Larry, then he turns his gaze back to the ground they're covering by foot.]

Yeah, I guess. Who wouldn't?

[He meets those green eyes a moment before they're gone.]

We had a good bunch of horses.

[Clearing his throat then swallowing diminishes the tightness.]

Really coulda hauled ass.

I didn't really get a chance to meet'em.

[Freddy shakes his head, just speaking the truth on those animals, including the one they hijacked. Who'd have thought that? Hijacking horses.]

Next time. I'll make sure of it.

[Tsh. Like there's a way of controlling that sort of thing. One of Larry's hands go into his pockets before he tries to paw at the kid. The man is okay, look he's walking around. It was just a curse. Nothing big was revealed. It was like that fucking day was held up to a fun house mirror and temporarily became somethin' else.]

Even if it's a brief encounter.

[Say what? Snort. Freddy can't help but look at Larry kinda funny now.]

What do you really know about horses?

[Just like the fun house mirror, the kid thinks any expertise Larry had with horses had everything to do with the screwball theme of the curse itself.

[Funny look? Whaaat. Come on. He shrugs though and taps ash into the street.]

Plenty. Don't walk behind em if you don't know em. Uh. Keep your hand flat if you're gonna feed em something. And uh they need a lotta food and water. That's a given though.

[But he know a few things.]

[Freddy has to smile now. Who knew Lawrence Dimick, gambler and rambler, a city-only kind of guy, knew even that much about horses.]

Okay Mr. Expert, next time I'll leave the hooves in your hands.

Oh. They measure em in hands.

=[Now he's just showing off. The smile, that's good. Real good in fact. It is thawing all the cold feelings that dropped onto him.]

Ever rode a horse before?

[He quirks a brow at Larry. In hands? He knows what it means kinda, he just doesn't expect Larry to know so damn much about horses and keep it coming. The show off.]

Yeah, at summer fairs and stuff.

[Which obviously means his experience at horsemanship doesn't count. At all. Puff puff. This cigarette's going down smoother.]

[This subject is far easier to go over rather than the same shit. Freddy is a cop. Set up. They both know. They both can't forget. For now though, can they shoot the shit, make it home and get clean?]

One time....I took a joyride. I didn't get too far but was pretty fun.

[More ash in the street. Larry rubs his forehead then one eye. Somethin' about pretend caravaning wears a man down.]

Wait wait wait. A joyride? As in...

[See this kid pantomiming mounting a horse and making it giddyup.]

On a horse?

[Larry rubs the side of his nose.]

Uh huh. It's name was George Washington. I was...Fuck. Lemme think, your age? Anyway. There he was. The pen didn't have no lock. I thought, why the fuck not? No one's gonna know.

I'm twenty-seven now.

[In case Larry forgot, because hijacking a horse at this age...well, he just expects that to happen at seventeen instead. That's how young Freddy would have been to take that dare. Honestly. But he can't help laughing over this story. A pen. Not even at a racetrack or something, sounds like this happened out in a yard.]

[Elbow.]

I know.

[He's thinking because that still doesn't sound right.]

Wait. That was the second time. First time I didn't leave the yard. Just...got my way through the fence and got caught. The other time, with George, I won a bet with this pal of mine. He didn't think I'd do it.

[Oof he doesn't stumble from the elbowing but it does touch a sore spot, Freddy's quick to cover up his wince. Damn it's fucking cold at this hour too.]

What were the stakes?

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