Aftershocks ➳ Philkas/Eyewitness

07

Episode 07: Enjoying the View

Lukas is helping Bo feed the turkeys when he decides to bring it up. The large birds surround the blond as he sets down a bucket full of dry, brown pellets. He's secretly named most of the turkeys even though they have numbered tags strapped to their ankles. His favorite one is called Nemo, number 294, because his left wing is slightly smaller than the other.

Bo refills one of the plastic watering founts with a green hose, sweat forming on his forehead. Afterwards, he shuts off the valve and wipes his face with a handkerchief.

Lukas hesitates before saying, "Hey, Dad?"

Bo grunts in response, busy unscrewing the hose from the spout. It squeaks audibly over the gobbling turkeys.

"So, it's Jacob's birthday this Saturday," he lies, watching the large birds peck at the food pellets competitively.

Lukas is pretty sure his dad doesn't know the names of half his friends, nor does he care about his social life, but Bo would never consent to allowing Lukas to go camping with Philip alone. At this point, he's pretty much an expert at lying. He pretended to be straight for his entire life and kept the triple homicide a secret for several weeks; he's pretty sure he can handle a little fib about his weekend plans.

"Is it?" Bo says distractedly.

"Yeah," Lukas answers with a nod. "He invited a me to go camping up at Kaaterskill with a few of our friends to celebrate. I know there's a lot of work to be done around the farm, but—"

"That's fine, Son," he replies, surprisingly eager.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm actually relieved to see you hanging out with..." he says, voice fading into silence. His posture turns tense as he shakes his head to himself and starts coiling the hose around the hook in the wall.

Lukas raises an eyebrow. "With?"

His dad clears his throat uncomfortably. "Y'know, your friends from school," he grumbles.

Lukas huffs annoyingly. "You mean someone other than Philip?"

Bo's lips flatten. "That's not what I meant, Son."

"Sure, Dad," he murmurs before grabbing another heavy bag of turkey feed. He cuts it open with his pocket knife and begins to fill one of the feeders.

And that's the end of the conversation.

°°°

Philip has the window rolled down with his arm outstretched, feeling the warm air and sunlight against his skin as they drive on the county road. Lukas grips the steering wheel with one hand and keeps his other arm arm draped across Philip's shoulders. Through the speakers, their playlist plays on repeat from a burned CD, which Philip kindly labeled "Us" with a black permanent marker.

Outside, the world flashes by in a blur of green pine trees and blue skies. The road is a bit bumpy, the yellow lines are faded, and they haven't seen another car in nearly a mile. It's peaceful and, after all they've been through, exactly what they need— little bit of calm after the storm.

Philip can see his own reflection in the plastic lenses of Lukas's sunglasses. He smiles at him softly and watches his blond hair rustle in the wind. He hums along to Cage The Elephant's "Trouble" and bobs his head to the lyrics, eyes focused on the road.

"I can't believe your dad lent you his truck," Philip muses, scoffing with skepticism.

"He has three of them." Lukas says it like it's no big deal.