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Spring days were usually nice, if a bit cold. It was unfortunate that the weather station had said it would be cloudy for the day with no signs of it clearing up. Jodi was looking forward to celebrating her husband’s birthday. It was the first birthday they could celebrate together in years. As she began preparing his celebration, she found him under the same tree he stood at every day.
“Dear, it’s your birthday! Don’t you want to come inside and celebrate?”
“Why should I celebrate when there are so many good men I knew who will never age again.”His eyes were as clouded as the sky, his voice flat with sorrow. Jodi couldn’t understand why he wasn’t happy, he was home! When she voiced this, he looked towards the ground.
“I can’t Jodi. Not today. Maybe not ever again.” At these words, Jodi stepped towards him angrily.
“I planned this day for you! To celebrate you coming back! And now you tell me I shouldn’t have bothered doing something nice!” At this Kent just shook his head.
“That’s not what I meant. Clearly, we can’t be having this conversation now. I’m going for a walk.” Jodi glared, before turning on her heel, marching back into the house, and slamming the door. Kent felt his heart drop even further as he watched her go, before turning and walking along the river.
Gus was enjoying the gentle murmuring of the rain on the roof of his saloon as he finished opening. He was still waiting for Emily to arrive, and he didn’t expect anyone else to visit for at least another hour. The farmer hadn’t come to raid his kitchen already, so they likely wouldn’t come by at all. So he was rather startled when Kent came in before Emily. In his humble opinion, Kent seemed miserable. Almost like a Junimo whose raisins had been stolen from out of their hut. He groaned and rested his arms on the bar.
“Hello Gus. I need a beer. Maybe more than one.” Gus glanced once more at his dripping hair and clothes, and quickly steered him to the barstool closest to the fire.
“My job may be to sell beer, but I can tell you’re in need of something a little warmer today,” as Kent began to protest, he quickly added, “Lucky for you, I happen to have a new recipe I’ve been experimenting with.”
As Gus heated the new dish on the menu, he reflected on Kent’s stature. While it was rude to judge someone’s weight, he appeared to be more muscle than substance. Maybe he had been skipping meals? He doubted Jodi would ever encourage this, as Sam and Vincent were always a healthy weight. A meal would most certainly do him good.
“I hope you’re ready to give me some feedback on my new Fiddlehead Fern Risotto.” Kent’s head jerked up from where he’d rested it on the bar top, looking at Gus like he’d cast a spell of some sort.
“The original recipe was a tad bland, so I used some of my favorite spices, like some rosemary and thyme, that would work well with the unique taste the ferns provide. I also switched the Parmesan cheese out for some nicely matured Gruyère.” As Gus continued to ramble about his recipe, Kent slowly brought a bite to his mouth. His eyes widened upon tasting it. The flavor brought back a cloudy memory of his mother comforting him with the same risotto after he scraped his knee biking. Gus startled, quieting as he realized with some concern that Kent looked like he was about to start crying.
“Hey Kent,” he started gently, ”you okay over there? Is the risotto that bad?” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. Kent suddenly blinked and looked up at Gus.
“Oh… Mom used to give me this when I was a young boy. It brings back wonderful memories,” as Kent spoke, tears began to trickle down his face, ”Thank you Gus.” Gus rested his arms on the counter, giving Kent a gentle smile.
“It’s no problem. Would you like a hug Kent?” Kent nodded sadly.
”I would like that.”
Gus lifted up the bar flap, stepping next to Kent and placing an arm around his shoulders. Kent melted into it, wrapping his arms around Gus, who returned the hug. After several minutes, Kent slowly withdrew from Gus’s warmth. He offered a small, tired smile.
“Thank you Gus. I’ve been having a rough day.”
“I’m here to help. If you need a willing ear, I’m always here.” Gus pulled over a stool and sat down.
“It’s so difficult to believe I’m really here. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to being back home. The peacefulness of the town feels like a mask. That’s probably just me though.” Gus rested his hand back on Kent’s shoulder and shook his head.
“I’m sorry Kent. I bet it’s difficult that you have to deal with this. Do you know why you feel this way?”
“There’s so little noise here, everything is loud by comparison. Hell’s sake, I snapped at Jodi for making popcorn because the noise reminded me of the gunshots. Sometimes I still hear the screams of the men I was supposed to take care of. They were tortured in front of me. Poisoned, starved, beaten, killed. Even with my eyes closed I can still see the blood. But the noise is worse, it’s everywhere. I can still hear them.” As Kent continued, he slowly leaned into Gus’s side, who simply wrapped an arm around him, running his hand up and down his back. Gus realized that Kent was starting to sag more against his side, and gently offered to take him to the couch in the arcade. Kent nodded, and allowed Gus to support him as they walked over to the couch, where Gus lovingly settled him down. Kent felt tired, yet hoped telling his tale had gained his friends some peace. As Gus gently patted his side, he was finally able to sleep. Everything was quiet.