"You wanna go see you, BabyJoe!"
Before Joe could finish what he was saying, he heard his name in a way he hadn't heard in so long, and like an immense flood, his memory of the only person who could be calling him came to mind, and as a hallucination from the high heat of the first day of summer, he thought he was looking at a mirage,
"Oh, come up here; the little staircase is on this side," Joe spoke up as he pointed to the side of the structure.
Before he could speak again, he was being pulled up and embraced, and then he returned to his sitting position.
"What is up, my man? Where have you been hiding?" Joe giggled at the accosting before he answered,
"Dude, I've been here; I should be asking you that."
When he didn't get a response, he looked up and saw he had turned away; maybe he didn't hear him. Looking over at his friend, who had been quiet for quite some time, he was still consumed by the contents of his bag as it sat on his lap, nudging him,
"Ben, this is one of my oldest friends. I've known him as long as I've known you. It's probably the same amount. This is Ken, Kentrell, but Ken is to me." Joe spoke up, and as he did, the namesake man turned back around, the two now making eye contact, for less than a minute as Ben resumed stuffing his face and hiding it in the big black bag in his lap.
Ken wasn't offended by the gesture; he just nodded, and the three sat quietly. Well, the two already sitting did as the newcomer stood, trying his best to avoid the thumping of his heart as it pressed against his chest, shaking the thin shirt he wore.
