Fall into the Break

Chapter One

Chase Gibson slammed the empty Red Bull can down on the vintage table. After belching loudly, he wiped his mouth with the back of this hand.

He got up from the table and brushed his hands together until all the pastry crumbs flew off. A huff sounded from the living room.

“You’ll never find a woman if you keep behaving like an animal!” The voice was unsteady.

Chase stretched. His six-foot three-inch frame filled the small dining room and made the furniture look as if it were designed for a doll house. He smiled slightly at the comment, brushed past the table and made his way to the recliner in the far corner of the living room.

“I’m off, Gran,” he said. He leaned down and kissed the top of the old woman’s head. Her hair was silver-white and wispy, like bleached cotton candy.

“You better be after a display like that!” She went to playfully smack his arm, but her crooked hand only delivered two awkward pats that ended in a lingering grip. Chase was convinced she would have bruised him if she had the full strength of her youth, but the balance of power had shifted and now all she could do was hold onto his neon green sweatshirt as she said her usual goodbye.

“You come home in one piece. I’ll have some dinner fixed. I love you.”

Chase kissed her head once more before he grabbed his keys off the hook and left the house.

***
 

The morning glistened and chirped. Low sunlight pierced through the evergreen trees that lined the highway as Chase made his way to work.

Modern housing developments littered the countryside with their rows of large white driveways, all decorated with some variation of Land Rover. This signaled his departure from the bustling city, where driveways were sparse and either cracked, overgrown, or smaller than the average golf cart. Chase rolled down his window and draped his arm outside.

The wind caused his sweatshirt to rustle. The air smelled better out here. The radio encouraged his fingers to tap and his head to move up and down to the beats of Guns N’ Roses. He took two more quick swigs of his second Red Bull and pulled off the road at exit 89. This trip was automatic.

Chase arrived at the jobsite ten minutes early. He parked his truck parallel to the administration portable, in the spot he had claimed earlier that year.

Through the window he could see Trish, his supervisor. She was a solid woman with a hearty constitution. She couldn’t have been much older than Chase, but never once in their two years of working together did she offer her age, and Chase never asked. It was obvious the many years of hard labor had left their mark on her. She was deep in discussion with a couple workers, but when she saw him arrive, she motioned for him.

Chase pulled the key out of the ignition and opened the door. Several Snickers wrappers fell to the ground as he swung his legs out of the truck. He quickly flung them back inside and slammed the door.

“Cold morning, huh?” a familiar voice called out.

Chase turned and smiled when he saw who the voice belonged to. He approached Ben and gave him a quick hug. “Hey, man! Back from paradise so soon?”

Ben laughed. “I knew you missed me.”

Chase nodded his head in the direction of the portable. “You headed in?”

“Yeah. I guess we’re getting a new guy.”

Chase scoffed softly, and Ben chuckled. The two walked up the steps together. Chase opened the door and Ben walked through. Obnoxious whoops and cheers erupted in the small room as soon as the others saw them.