In Hell We Dance

Trying

I've asked him twice already, but as we pull up out front a post office on Newhaven, I turn to Aiden, resting my arms on my lap, trying one last time, though I know it's futile.

"But seriously, dude. Any more concrete plan than just hoping he'll be in the same spot you left him... What, two-three hours ago?"

Aiden bows his head, considering, before meeting me with a steely resolve.

"I know I probably won't find what I'm looking for, but I have to check anyway. For him."

I sigh, but it's one of resignation. I get it.

"Besides," he continues with a slanted smile. "when it comes to what your heart says, you put your brain into sleep mode and follow blindly."

I nod, glancing at Isaac in the rearview mirror. His legs are rocking and he's tapping his fingers along them, itching to do something. He doesn't see me, but is focused outside, no doubt wanting to run through the snow. Seriously, he loves that stuff.

Aiden hops out and we follow as he jogs ahead, entering through a gap in the metal fencing that blocks off the train tracks. The tracks themselves are bordered on both sides by steep snowy hills, and sunlight filters through the leaves above, bouncing off the gleaming white.

Aiden stops, looking at me intensely. I still think this is a waste of time, but I like this kid. He knows what he wants, and I find that so darn adorable. I nod, my approval now that last push. He hurries off ahead, following the path of the tracks.

Isaac, skipping through the snow behind me, tries to give chase but I press him back with my fist, and he glares at me. I grin, then turn to watch Aiden go.

"Let him go," I murmur. "We'll give him enough space then follow along. We'll be close enough if he needs us.

The tracks curve to the left and once Aiden disappears around the bend, I start walking, Isaac staying close. We walk in silence for a little while, but all this stuff with Aiden is weighing too heavily on me. Look at him: chasing his love, despite how messy and hopeless it felt at that moment. Things between Isaac and I have been getting better, but we're still stagnant. If I even so much as mention the future of Hell, he shuts down, presses his fingers in his ears, and does everything a child in tantrum would do.

"Isaac," I sigh, trying anyway. "I want to talk about—"

"Save it."

"You don't know—"

He snorts, and I bristle. I steady myself, however, and try a different tactic.

"Have you ever thought, you know, about what you'd like to be. Your dream job, or whatever."

It looks like he won't say anything, but then, wrinkling his nose, he shrugs and speaks to the ground.

"You know me, Connor. That kind of foresight ain't me."

"Not once? Even as a little kid you didn't entertain ideas about the future? You know, an artist, or accountant—or—"

"Hold up." He looks at me now, pausing on the spot. "What kid dreams of being a fricking accountant?"

I smile, then start walking, and he joins me.

"It's not that rare. I mean, someone has to be one, right?"

He shivers and then lapses into silence. The tracks are straight now, and the trees surrounding us hunch together ever thicker. Cars growl to our right, but to our left it's just open snow-fields. Ahead, Aiden has slowed, but about a hundred metres ahead is a large tunnel.