FO4 | Book 0: The Diaries of Anarchy ✔️

October 5, 2272

Power Noodles just opened up in the middle of the shopping district the day before, and Guy and I had plans to visit it for the first time today. It was still a little crowded when we arrived, but it seemed like it was worth it to wait in line for a bowl of noodles.

The noodle stand was a rounded shed of sorts with a red awning all the way around and a curved bar with stools. A Protectron ran the stand, and according to the owner, all he spoke was one Japanese phrase.

"Nani ni Shimasuka?" is all he knew how to say, and he didn't respond to anything else. Your only choices were to either say "yes" or "no."

Guy and I got a bowl of noodles once the line cleared up and took a seat in two stools around the counter. The noodles were actually really good — probably better than the spaghetti I cooked. The cook in me wanted to figure out how exactly he made these miracle noodles, but the realist in me knew I was too damn lazy for that.

"How's work been?" I asked Guy.

"Same old shit. My apprentice is doin' good though."

"Oh, yeah? Is he as young as you were when you started learning mechanic stuff?"

"Nah, a little older. Full-grown man, actually. Though, he's still younger than me."

I examined Guy's face for a minute. He shaved everything but his mustache now, and there were already flecks of gray there. Guy was thirty-seven years old. His forties were comin' up fast. I felt bad for the guy. He wanted to marry, and he wanted kids, but he just couldn't seem to make that happen.

"So, how's work for you?" asked Guy.

"Good. I'm still not tired of bein' a cook. Randy's gettin' too old to run the bar, though. His legs hurt."

"He should think about sellin' it and retiring. It'd be good for him."

"You know he won't give up that bar. He'll be dead before that happens."

He laughed. "Yeah, you're right, you're right."

"Saw that woman at the shed again yesterday," I mentioned. "Who was that?"

"Uh, just a woman I started talking to. Her name's Doris, and she's... nice."

"You hesitated."

"She's nice, but she doesn't seem as interested as I'd like. She doesn't make time to see me." He sighed. "Maybe I'm just getting too old for this."

Just then a boy sat down on the stool beside Guy. He smiled. "Hi."

"Well, hey, there," I said. I recognized him as the Garveys' little boy, Preston.

"Hi," said Guy.

"What are you doin' over here by yourself?" I asked.

He wouldn't answer me.

"Yeah, what are you doing here alone?" Guy asked this time.

"I'm waiting on Mom and Dad. They told me to wait here while they buy my birthday present."

"Is that so?" asked Guy. "How old will you be, little man?"

"I'll be twelve."

"Wow, you're practically an adult already," I jested.

He gave me an uneasy look.

Guy noticed it. "Is there something wrong?" he asked.

"I... I'm not supposed to talk to him," he said to Guy with a hushed voice.

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I dunno, my parents told me I'm not allowed to talk to him."

Even Guy looked surprised. He shot me a look — the same look that usually said, "what did you do this time?" I just shrugged at him. I haven't done anything lately.

"Preston, come on," said his Dad, James. Rita, his wife, was close behind him with a bag in hand.

"We still have to bake your cake," said Rita.

Preston jumped up from the stool and ran over to his parents.

Guy got up and had a word with them. "Hey, I was just wondering. Your boy here said that he isn't allowed to talk to my brother — specifically my brother. What's that about?"

"Take Preston home, and I'll be there shortly," said James.

Rita guided Preston by his shoulder toward their house.

James whispered somethin' to Guy. After they were done speaking, he turned and left. Guy took a seat on his stool again.

"What did he say?" I asked out of curiosity.

"He said that he believed you had a hand in his father's death. And that you're a junkie that didn't need to be around their son. And that they're getting tired of hearing girls scream from your house at night."

I threw my head back in a laugh. "Are you fuckin' serious?"

"You're not offended?"

"Nah, it's hard to offend me. Let 'em think what they want. I'm at peace with it."

Guy chuckled. "You've really grown up, after all these years."

"Well, I sure fuckin' hope so. I've had thirty years to figure shit out and fix that chip on my shoulder."

Guy went silent as he fumbled with his chopsticks. "... Goddamn it, how the hell do you use these things?"

"You'll get the hang of it," I insisted, takin' another bite.

"How the hell did you learn how to use them so quickly?"

"Let's just say I'm dexterous."

He fumbled with it for a while longer before slamming the chopsticks onto the countertop. "Takahashi, can I get a damn fork over here? I'm going to starve before I learn how to use these things."

"Nani ni Shimasuka?"

"Goddamn it..."