Overwhelming Quiet

Chapter Three: Explosions

Anthony and Kenji didn't speak on their whole ride to the city. They walked and browsed and flipped through records. When they finally spoke it was about bands and artists, and songs and albums.

There was a strange wall between them and Kenji wasn't sure which one of them was responsible for building it. At one point during the day, Anthony asked his advice on which Aretha Franklin album he should buy. Kenji responded like a bitter teenager. "Why didn't you bring Leo down here? I'm sure he would've been better at helping you decide."

Anthony looked beyond irritated. "You're seriously acting like a child. Are you really jealous of Leo?"

"I'm not jealous. I just seriously can't believe you hired him. You told me for the past two years that you couldn't afford to let me work for you."

"There are things you don't understand."

Kenji kept his responses short for the rest of the day after that. Anthony rarely treated him like an 18-year-old kid. He wasn't one to talk down to anyone, let alone him.

If there was something Anthony thought he didn't understand, he would explain it thoroughly. He wouldn't give him some bullshit, condescending answer.

When they rode back home, Anthony dropped him off with few words exchanged between them. Kenji muttered an appreciation for inviting him, slipped a ten dollar bill for gas, and then tripped over his own feet, stumbling out of his dirty, 20-year-old white minivan.

It was the Fourth of July the next day. He didn't have any plans. Didn't text anyone or receive a text wishing him a happy Fourth. The town echoed from morning till night with obnoxious, booming fireworks. Weren't half of these old fuckers Veterans? How could they take the noise?

The trailer park was a hellhole every year. Overly energetic kids and drunk middle aged men yelling and setting off screaming fireworks in the gravel. A couple years ago, one of the trailers caught on fire. It belonged to a bakery owner who ended up losing all her clothes. Not to mention her grandma's 100-year-old recipe books were all scorched. But USA all the way, right?

People really care more about the country than the people in it.

It was gonna take him a couple days to want to be around Anthony and the Missing Page again. But it was okay because for the past year, Lin had grown accustomed to spending holidays alone. They weren't so overwhelming that way.

There was only so long he could listen to the uproar of day-drinking patriotic neighbors and country music blasting from poor quality outdoor speakers. He had to refill his fridge anyway.

He liked to keep his head down at the grocery store. Liked to make himself as unnoticeable as possible to avoid those awkward Oh hey, how have you been? conversations with people he didn't care to know past the surface level. He usually shopped at night near close for this very reason.

He was in the freezer aisle when he saw Gunn round the corner with a woman I assumed was his mom. Kenji turned the opposite way and started to walk off—he could buy the frozen curry some other time.

"Oh my god, hey!"

Kenji turned back around to find Gunslinger jogging up to him. His mom hung back, one hand around her shopping cart handle and the other wrapped around a smaller young boy's hand. Gunn's little brother most likely.

"Hey," he replied with a polite smile, hoping that would be that.

"What are you doing here?"

Kenji ignored the fact that it was a pretty dumb question considering he had eyes and it wasn't a big connection to make that he was here buying food.