You can see the desperation in his eyes.
The hunger and want. The pure undying need for something he'd never be able to reach.
The simple and primal craving that can be so easily recognized, speak and spread across languages and barriers, channels.
The day is clear and bright, the sun is hot and steady, high in the sky.
Sweat drips down his brow, his face is pressed to the picnic table's surface.
His eyes are wide, open and unseeing. Too dry from too many tears to cry anymore.
"Hello," the man says. Standing before him.
Jonathan stares right on through, as if he isn't there.
"My name is Theo." He slouches so naturally, his spine must be soft and made of fabric.
There is only silence from the table, sweat drips down Jonathan's brow and he slowly blinks, carefully, as if his eyes are stuck open.
"I saw you here this morning," Theo starts, and slips his hands in his pockets. "Me and the wife were taking my daughter to the zoo. She loves looking at the otters, and they have the best one upstate here but.."
He leans down a little, so close he is standing in arms length beside the table but, he is still too far away. His hands move inside his pockets but he dare not bring them out.
(To far away to have his breath to stir a lock of Jonathan's hair, remind him he's still alive. Slip an arm around his back like his shoulders keep aching for. To be a familiar touch.)
"Are you hungry? Do you need a ride somewhere? Do you want some help?"
The shadows are creeping in from the forest, from the woods surrounding the rest stop. The day is so close to ending all it needs is just a bit more.
But Jonathan is still warm, still filled to the brim with all that's made him feel alive so far.
Still hot with sunshine.
Theo licks his lips and looks back across the lawn to the rest rooms where his little girl and his wife are coming out from, giggling and holding each other's hands.
"I don't know what's going on," he says, watching them. "And I can't begin to imagine whatever happened to bring you here like this but."
He looks back, down, at the table. "Somebody misses you, I bet. Even if you don't think so, even if you don't really believe it. Somebody, somewhere, misses you."
He shuffles closer to the table, clenches his hands in his pockets and tries to find the right words.
"I .. don't know what you're running from or where you're running to but.." Theo sighs, and pulls out his wallet. "I have a business card. Here, that's my number at the bottom. If you need a ride back home, or anywhere."
He slides the card across the table, gently, until it rests just under Jonathan's nose.
The boy looks at it cross-eyed, and blinks again, slowly. As if he's not quite processing anything right now.
"I have.. I have seventeen dollars too, here." He pulls the money out of his wallet quickly, the sound of his daughter screaming with laughter as his wife giggles and chases her is a beacon he can't ignore.
"Take this," he worries, and lightly touches Jonathan's limp wrist. "Take this and get something to eat, call someone if you need them."
He slips the money under Jon's hand and whispers, "Go home."
Then turns and walks away.
.
[___Theodore Beur___]
[_____391-8618_____]
[_Lumber Specialist__]
.
"Who was that," she asks if him once he finally gets inside the car. "Do you know him, Teddy?"
"No," Theo answers. "But he looked.." He glances back, just once more, hand still on the door handle as he stares at the boy still laying sprawled across the table, unmoving and unresponsive as the night begins crawl over him.
"He looks like he needs someone."
The girl is already buckled up in the back seat, all bright smiles and laughter, and the wife pauses in the action of buckling her own belt.
"Did you give him anything?" She asks. "Did he say anything?"
"Teddy," she starts when her husband just shakes his head. "It's going to get cold. Go give him your jacket at least."
"I.." He nods. "Yeah." And reaches over the back seat to where the coat was bundled up and left in the heat of the day.
Grabs it, and heads back to the picnic table.
Jonathan hasn't moved an inch.
Teddy stops just in front of him and holds the coat out, it's thin but oversized, much too big for Jonathan.
He carefully drapes the jacket over Jon's still shoulders, and hesitates.
He doesn't know what to do, how to help. But he's just one man, just a stranger, and his wife and child are waiting for him in the car.
".. Take care." Teddy says, and walks away.
.
Tyler wakes up, with his face stuck fast to the mattress, and the awful morning aftertaste in his mouth.
He is laying across the end of his bed, he is kneeling on the ground and his suitcase open beside him, half-packed with six pairs of underwear (two which haven't fit for a year but he just didn't get around to throwing out yet) and one t-shirt.
His head is throbbing in his skull and he squeezes his eyes shut trying to dim the pain, but his phone keeps buzzing and it won't shut up so he finally sits up a little, slides down the end of the bed, and unlocks the screen.
The instant onslaught of brightness makes him nauseous, so he holds his stomach and drops his head to his chest as he tries to breathe the hangover away.
It's midmorning, the blinds are still shut in his room and the lighting is muted and soft. His room is still dark, dark enough that closing his eyes and breathing slowly brings him back to his senses.
There are too damn many missed calls and text messages and he doesn't really remember what the hell happened last night to get him this much attention but it must have been good.
He starts scrolling through them, head pounding like a bag of rocks, his stomach keeps trying to walk right out of him and nothing really makes sense.
Why do the guys keep asking him about Delirious?
.
