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“The pieces didn’t have that much moss on them.”
“Green means unseasoned. Where’d you find it?”
Unseasoned? What the fuck are you supposed to season wood with?
“By the cabin.”
“Seymour’s shack?” Dex asks. “Did you see him?”
“Who?”
“Seymour. The ghost.”
“Someone named the ghost that or that was his name before he died?”
That gets another, “Beats me,” from my friend.
The other guy steers us back on track, asking, “Was the wood uncovered?”
“Yeah.”
“Then it was wet. You have to season wood before burning it, otherwise it gets hella smoky.”
“And to season it, you…”
“Dry it out.”
Of course. How didn’t I know that?
Taking pity on me, the guy launches into a full explanation, not only about how to dry wood but what type of wood is the best to use for certain situations. Even though I feel like a fucking idiot for not knowing any of this shit, he never makes me feel like one, answering each of my questions patiently and thoroughly.
The conversation’s cut short when someone declares, “It’s time!”
Finally. Something. I was beginning to question the exclusivity claim because other than needing to show a QR code to get past the parking attendant, this has been like any other lame Sea Haven party.
“Time for what?” I ask the wood expert.
“7 Minutes in Sea Haven.”
Okay, now that has me confused.
“It’s gonna get crazy in a few minutes, but here…” After fishing a business card out of his wallet, he hands it to me. “This is me.”
I read the card front and back. Pritchard’s Construction, owned and operated by Hollis Pritchard.
“You’re Hollis?”
“Yeah.”
Damn. Dude looks like he’s only a couple years older than me and already has his own company.
“Khaos.”
We shake hands.
He doesn’t blink at my name, probably because his is unique, too.
“Nice to meet you, Khaos. If you think of more questions, hit me up.”
