NaNoWriMo, Part 22: Further ~Character Development~

Today's word count: 1,686 words
Running total: 36,722 words
Summary: I explore Brian's character.

Also, Jake Waters makes a cameo.

     And then someone else comes out of the kitchen, carrying the compost bin from lunch.  I record some notes about his appearance in the appropriate column in my book—he looks to be in his mid to late twenties, although I’m bad with ages.  I can’t really see his hair color or style because it’s hidden in a tweed newsboy cap.  Which isn’t really a big kind of hat at all, so he must have really short hair.  I make note of that.  As he turns away from us, I note that his hair is blond, but indeed very short.
    “Hey, uh… excuse me,” I call.  The man stops and looks at me expectantly.  “Can I have your name?  I’m conducting a… research project for school, and I need to survey the staff of Sandstone for it.”
    He sighs.  “This compost is really heavy.  If you’re going to ask me questions, can you wait for me to dump this first?”
    I nod and smile at him, and he smiles back.  “Thanks.”  As he walks away, I ponder the way that people smile after I smile at them.  They must feel my aura of happiness, but, you know, I didn’t think it was that strong.  You learn something new every day!
    Eventually the man comes back and wipes his hands on his apron.  “All right… my name first?”
    “Yeah, if you don’t—“
    “I’m Jake.  Jake Waters.”
    “O… kay…” I record his name next to his physical description, then look back at him and ask, “Okay, Jake, have you ever heard about the legend of Grindstone?”
    He looks a bit startled.  He opens his mouth, thinks again, closes his mouth, and thinks deeply about something.  Finally, he opens his mouth again, and this time he says something.  “We’re not supposed to talk to visitors about it.  But yeah, I know about the legend.  No use hiding it from you, since you already know about it… you know?”  He smiles.  You know, I kind of like this guy.
    “Thanks, Jake.  We already know a lot about the myth, but we’ve hit a rut at his cottage—“
    “The Sugar Shack,” Jake nods knowingly.
    “The whaaa?”
    Ashley butts in.  “They converted his house into a granary recently,” she says.  “They call it the sugar shack because they tried milling their own sugar in there… it didn’t work too well, so now they only mill wheat and the like.”
    “That’s right,” Jake confirms.  “Woah, you guys do know a lot about Grindstone.”
    “Yeah, well—we need a key to get in.”
    “Mm-hmmm.  You want to take a look around, I guess?”
    “That’s the idea,” I smile.
    He looks around wildly.  I guess he’s making sure no one’s eavesdropping, although a look around when we first started this taboo conversation probably would have been better.  Oh well.  When he confirms that no rogue ears are listening, he whispers, “I get off today at 8:00 P.M.  You know where the solar panels are?”
    I nod.
    “Meet me at the solar panels at… oh, about  8:15.  And… just come in a small group, like one person, two or three if you have to.  Don’t want to attract attention. I have a key, we can all go in there together.”
    I grin.  “Thank you so much, Jake.”
    “No problem.  I’m just as curious about the legends as you are.”
    As Jake heads back inside, I feel quite victorious.  I almost do a little dance, but I don’t want to look too suspicious—don’t want to get Jake in trouble for revealing the information to me.  I tell Ashley to call Kenneth with the good news and set out interview a couple more kitchen staff members before leaving.  After interviewing one more tight-lipped staff member, Ashley taps my shoulder.
    “What is it, Ash?”
    “My cell phone doesn’t get any service out here.”
    …Right.  I knew that.

~~~

    “You sure you know where you’re going, man?”
    “Yes.  I’ve walked this path many times myself.”
    It was my responsibility to go grab Jake for tonight.  Unfortunately, it was not my responsibility to know the way to the Sugar Shack, and I didn’t take the time to figure that out.  I really should have, but I didn’t.  Jake says he knows the way, but I can’t help but get the feeling that  he hasn’t a clue where we’re going.
    To take my mind off the current situation, I try and strike up some idle conversation.  “So, Jake… how old are you, anyway?”  He doesn’t look much older than me.
    “I turned nineteen in February.”  And he isn’t.  I am smart!
    “Happy very belated birthday, then.”
    “Thanks,” he laughs.
    We walk around in silence for a little longer.  He comes to a complete stop at one point, holds his hands out like he’s trying to feel the aura of the shack or something, and then points in a direction.  He starts walking in that direction and I follow.
    “So… is this, like, a summer job you’re doing?”
    “You could say that,” he responds.  I hear the hesitation in his voice.  He looks back at me and I can see him trying to make some sort of mental decision.  Eventually he sighs and says, “I didn’t go to college.  I didn’t see the point.”
    “…Oh.”
    It seems like a prerequisite in this world: go to college or be a loser.  I’m honestly having second thoughts about the situation, so it’s good to hear this.  I wonder what it’s like?
    “I wasn’t very good in school.  Like, numbers and stuff?”  He laughs nervously.  I can tell he feels bad about this situation and doesn’t want to explain it to me, but it’s one of those things where once you start, it just all comes spilling out.  “I’m bad with numbers.  And I wanted to be a bartender, anyway, so what do I need school for?  You don’t need any sort of degree to know how to put two drinks together to make one good drink.”
    Bartender?  Man, that’s pretty sweet.  “Wait, do you make drinks now?”
    “Not at a camp like this, no.  We don’t serve any alcohol here.  But when I get a chance… wait a minute.”  He does that weird ‘feel the shack and point in a random direction’ ritual again before continuing.  “When I get a chance otherwise, I mix drinks.  I learn what I can from professional bartenders and get whatever work I can.”
    We walk in silence a little more.  There’s a question I want to ask, but I don’t know how to word it so it won’t be super-offensive or anything.  Eventually I just say screw it to myself and ask the question outright.
    “Do you… enjoy your life?  The way you live, what you do, I mean?”
    Jake thinks about my question deeply for a while.  I’m glad he’s not offended.  “Well…” he begins.  He doesn’t finish that thought before a few more minutes and another random directional point.  “It’s not easy.  My brother went to film school a while back, and while I’m sure making movies has its fair share of hard things to do, you still have a schedule in school.  You know what you’re going to do tomorrow.  Me—when I get out of here I’ll be living on some savings until someone else wants to take a kid with no college degree.”  He laughs—it’s a hollow, sad laugh.  I feel bad for asking now.
    “But I’m going to follow my dream, and I’m not going to be impeded by classes.  I think—I enjoy working towards that goal.  Of course… if I can’t succeed, then I’ll be pretty miserable, but…”
    “But until then you don’t regret your decisions?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Thanks for answering that question, Jake.”
    “No problem.”  Only about half a minute passes before he stops and says, “All right, um… what’s your name again?”
    “Brian.”
    “Brian.  I’ll admit it.  We’re completely lost right now.”
    He leans up against one of the trees, still smiling playfully as if nothing is wrong.  I stare upwards at the trees, maybe at God, I don’t know—and then I sigh.  All the trees look exactly the same, and it’s getting pretty dark.  We both brought flashlights, but I still don’t like it.
    “Well, we need to get un-lost,” I mumble.
    “All right… that shouldn’t be too hard.  There aren’t many paths through Sandstone… if we can find one of those, we’ll be able to get back on track.”
    I look around, turning on my flashlight and poking it through the trees.  Eventually I find something that looks like a clear-cut dirt trail.  I motion to Jake and he follows.
    It’s his turn to ask questions now.  “So how old are you, Brian?”
    “I’m sixteen.  I’ll be seventeen this fall.”
    “Not much younger than I am,” Jake says.  I sense the essence of laugher in his voice, although I’m not quite sure why.  As I pick a direction on the path, he asks, “So why were you so curious about my schooling?”
    I sigh, thinking over my answer.  I’m not sure if I want to go over this information with a total stranger, but I eventually justify it.  After all, he just gave me a piece of his life story, and I’ve told my life story to strangers before.  Granted, they were angels, and they were angels I only met while tripping on acid, but I still felt comfortable sharing my stories with them.
    “I’m not sure if I want to go to college or not.  You know what?  I’m definitely sure I don’t want to go to college.”  I laugh.
    “And why not?”
    “I mean—I don’t know, man.  You only live once, you know?  Unless you’re James Bond, maybe, but I’m not James Bond.  I might die tomorrow.  And I don’t want to spend four years not living.”
    “…Deep,” Jake mumbles.  He doesn’t really say anything else.
    “I’m an artist,” I continue.  “I work with paints and stuff.  Acrylic on canvas.  I’ve entered in some local competitions and stuff, too… I’ve never won anything, but my name’s been thrown out there.  Friends and angels and other people who have seen my artwork tell me they really like the movement in my pieces, but I think they’re too abstract to get much recognition right now.”  I sigh.  “I’ve tried all those basic drawing classes and stuff, but I just can’t get into it.”
    “I see…”  Jake leaves that hanging just long enough that there’s an awkward silence, but not long enough for me to actually reply or continue.  “That’s cool, that you’ve at least taken some classes.  Trust me, if you can find a good teacher, they’ll be invaluable to your growth.  I’d still be in the little league of drink mixing if it wasn’t for the people I’ve met.  Maybe you