AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He was literally sleeping under your chair.”
“Because he was full of pretzels and he’d worked so hard!”
Auggie’s smile grew, but it felt borrowed, and it faded quickly.
Jem seemed to notice; his gaze sharpened on Auggie, and he asked, “Eggs ok?”
“Eggs would be great. Have you seen Theo?”
Jem and Tean traded a look.
“He went out to work in the yard,” Tean said.
Something about the tone caught Auggie. He looked at Tean.
After a moment, Tean picked up one of the fillies, turning her in his hands. “That was a while ago. He, um, didn’t sleep very long.”
“He didn’t sleep at all,” Jem said. “And he looks like shit.”
“Jem!”
“He does. All haggard and red eyed.”
“He was tired.”
Jem shrugged. “He looked dead.”
Giving Lana another kiss, Auggie set her down. She dropped down next to Tean, already talking to him about the fillies again—insisting, Auggie was aware at the corner of his mind, that now the unicorns had to fight each other for some reason.
“Why don’t you sit down—” Tean tried.
“I’ll be right back,” Auggie said. He touched Lana’s head, her hair silky under his fingers, and let himself out onto the deck. The sun struck him, and the angle felt wrong, already too late in the day for having just woken up. The afternoon was sweltering, the air still. Even the silver maples seemed to feel it; they hung listlessly over the creek, where the water was barely a trickle. On good days, Auggie thought, when a breeze lifted the leaves, they caught the light like foil.
Theo was digging a trench along the side of the house. He had, to Auggie’s count, eight different shovels in a heap, all different sizes, with blades of different shapes. He had the mattock, too—Auggie knew the word because he’d called it a pickaxe one too many times, and Theo, ever so gentle, had finally, quietly, said,It’s called a mattock.
As Auggie approached, Theo rose up. He was wearing a black t-shirt in spite of the heat—the Eagles one, the one with the sleeves cut off. As Theo reared back, the mattock coming up and over his head, the muscles in his arms lengthened, his arms long and corded, glistening with sweat. The way the shirt clung to his back showed the muscles there too, the powerful vee of his torso. He shifted his weight, one leg coming back, a strong, thick thigh exposed as the terry shorts rode up. And then the mattock came down. Theo breathed out harshly—an explosion of breath. He did it again. And again. And again. Chunks of earth flew up as he yanked the mattock free. His breathing became uneven, labored, and he lost his balance. His shoulder checked the side of the house, and the mattock rested between his legs, and he trembled, like the wall was the only thing holding him up.
Auggie wasn’t sure what gave him away, but Theo said, “You’re up.”
“Hey.”
Theo turned around slowly. Dirt speckled his face and neck and arms, and sweat ran so thickly that at first, Auggie mistook it for tears, running in muddy paths down his cheeks. He ran his forearm over his face. “How are you doing this morning?”
“Afternoon.” Auggie’s mouth moved mechanically into a smile. “I’m all right. I could use some more sleep.”
“Stick around a couple of hours.”
“How are you?”
“All right.”
“Hot out here.”
Theo wiped his face again.
“Why don’t you come inside?” Auggie asked. “It’s too hot for this kind of work; you’ll make yourself sick.”
Theo nodded. “Sure. Give me a few more minutes.”
