The Haven

Chapter 6

The poppies looked so happy.

Against the dull grey of the post-snow skies and the crumbling headstones and the bare trees, the red petals adorning his mother's hippie van looked so openly, almost offensively glad.

Nikolai smiled.

Just for a second.

Even rusted and crumpled as it was, here the van looked happy. The cemetery was empty now, only silence and wind rolled over the expanse of grass and graves. Rectangles of green sod awkwardly covered his parents final resting place, like putting back the grass could cover up the gaping holes that had opened up in his life.

Nikolai turned his back on the graves and the happy poppies. Today, he didn't need their infectious charm. Today, he didn't need to be happy.

He just needed to walk.

He knew he'd be back. And he knew that here, on the quiet road, deep in a cemetery that no one ever visited in the town that no one ever came to, nobody would care about a poppy-painted van sitting beside a few graves. So Nikolai left it beside the rows and rows of graves and walked back towards civilization.

It wasn't far.

Nathaniel was small. The town's center was the outskirts' close neighbor, and the walk from one to the other didn't give Nikolai much time to think. Not that his thoughts made much sense anyway. Only a few blocks down from the cemetery, Nikolai looked up from his unhelpful steps. A neon pink Diner sign stuck up into the sky, a flashy scar against the grey clouds, its glow clashing awkwardly with the dull orange of a fading sun. Nikolai looked through the window under the sign as his footsteps slowed. Chrome booths huddled together inside. Steam curled up from hot coffee on the tables. Bits of fried fish and burgers some fire-red chicken wings slid across counters on dull white plates.

Nikolai's footsteps stopped.

If he kept moving, his feet would take him home too soon. Waaay too soon. This town was too goddamn small and he needed more time to think! The way home wasn't long enough for a long walk and a good think. Plus, Nikolai really didn't feel like the thought of facing bare cupboards. The half-eaten case of Ramen he'd turned to while his parents were away was no longer appealing.

So he stepped off the sidewalk and headed towards the diner's door until–

His pocket chimed.

Nikolai twitched. His feet stopped.

One hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He poked at it. Then he stared. For a long moment, he stared at the screen.

He smiled.

Again, it was just for a second. A reflexive grin. It quickly faded.

Nikolai put the phone back into his pocket, reached for the handle of the diner's door, and went inside. A few minutes later, over a plate of mozzarella sticks and a cup of hot chocolate, he pulled the phone out again and flicked back to his mail.