So –
It’s been a quiet week in Kitaree. Real quiet.
Tony’s disappearance had us all rattled. Seriously: Nate, Howie, ‘Nacio and I waited for hours at that stupid house. Howie and ‘Nacio went to work on the portion of the tree out on the lawn, all of the roots and a good length of trunk, but it was half-hearted. After the first half-hour, Howie made a call, I guess to the guys who handed out hard hats and assignments every morning.
Another half-hour after that, another team showed, this time with flashlights. The Asian guy was with them, the one from the antiques shop. The big boss. He stayed outside while the rest went in.
We… we just stood there, hands down our metaphorical pants. Howie and ‘Nacio chopped. Nate smoked. I tried to crack a joke to the boss, something about how losing a guy out of the gate meant we were all fired.
“No, I’ve got more work in mind for you.” I don’t know. He said it normally, but I could practically hear a musical sting.
They never found Tony. The guys spent a couple of hours in that house, I guess going room to room. Said he must’ve hit a back door and just done a runner. Why not? We were all transients, really, glorified day laborers on the state’s dime. Tony probably figured the work was bullshit and saw a way to get down the road.
I almost lit out after that. Who cares about homecomings, right? I lived without Kitaree for years, and I could do it again.
I didn’t. Nate did. He didn’t show up for our assignment the next morning.
So, like I said, quiet week. The remaining three of us got the rest of our time off, and next week we get to go straight to HQ (in this case, Christianson’s Antiques) instead of talking to some clipboard guy in a pickup.
I don’t know why, but it feels like y’all should wish me luck. Something’s coming.
