The Wizard's Herbarium: The Wolf Child

Part 30

Atticus gave Colt a walking stick. He could move around without the same level of exhaustion as before, but he wasn't sure how he'd do on a longer walk back into town.

"Manage the pain with human medicine," Atticus advised. "As long as you remember to change the dressing, you shouldn't have any problems."

Colt nodded. He tried to remind himself to pay attention, but his mind wasn't on the present. Instead, he found himself only able to focus on the future.

As he began to walk, the mismatched stones that made up the pathway through Atticus' garden forced him to concentrate. If Colt didn't place his walking stick in the correct position on the uneven stones, he'd fall when he put his weight onto the stick. At first, he didn't need it much anyway, but he found the stairs difficult. After pushing open the short wooden gate at the bottom of the stone steps, Colt rested for a moment.

He found himself along the wide path that snaked beside the river. It was the same one he'd walked along several times now. Behind him were gigantic rows of raspberry bushes, but when he turned, Colt didn't see the gate that he'd just come through, or the stone steps he'd just walked down. It was as though Atticus' cottage at the top of the hill, the stone pathway, or the garden beyond had never existed.

The walk back into town hadn't seemed that long when he'd been healthy, but now it seemed to take forever. Colt had to stop frequently for breaks and to sit on the side of the path. People passed him. Some were on foot, on bikes or even on horses. They smiled at him and waved as they went along.

The parking lot in front of the restaurant was empty as usual. The cook, Grant, sat out front with a smoke in hand, and the white of his apron stained with something yellow. His gaze followed Colt as he approached, the frown on his lips unflinching.

By this time, the pain was creeping back into Colt's body, and he was grateful for the stick Atticus had given him as he stood in front of the cook, leaning his weight onto it.

"I'm not going to pretend to know what this town needs," Colt said. "I'm new here after all, but every community has its own unique problems. In a small town, a local shop has a different job than the city. Businesses become a part of the community too. You don't have to sell the restaurant to me, Grant. If you don't, I'll find another place to open, maybe down the road or something. If you did decide to sell to me, I think that I can do more than just make a living. I think that I can benefit this community."

As Colt spoke, Grant's expression remained blank, not giving away any thought that might have been ticking behind his eyes.

"Well, that's all I got, man," Colt continued. "If you'll excuse me, I'm exhausted as fuck and need to lie down."

"If I sell to you, you'll keep your word?" Grant grunted. Now, he wasn't even looking at Colt, as though it physically hurt. Despite where he was now and the state of the restaurant, Colt would bet that Grant's intentions when he'd first opened weren't that far from what Colt was intending now. "I don't need some piss-ass coming into this town and tryin' to make money off us. We got enough of that already. Do good for the town, an' I'll consider givin' up my restaurant."

It was going to take some time to put the sale through. Colt had savings so he could afford the down payment on the mortgage, but there wasn't going to be much left over after that. That was what Colt told himself anyway. It was easier to say that 'there wasn't much left' or 'it was going to be tight' because it was less scary than telling the truth. The truth was that after the down payment, there was nothing. He didn't allow himself to think about how he was going to feed himself, or where he was going to stay.

He'd been told once that the secret to owning your own business was courage, as in the courage to stop accepting a steady salary for something more unstable and potentially more lucrative. From owning his own restaurant before, Colt thought that the real trick was to have too have stupidity or blind faith. Colt wasn't sure which he had.

He went back to Chuck's house to pick up his stuff, resolving himself not to stay, no matter how friendly and welcoming they were. He'd imposed too much on them already.

He had no idea how much time he'd spent at Atticus'. Chuck's huge logging truck that sat in front of the house was gone, indicating that it was probably a weekday.

Lorayne answered the door when he knocked. As soon as the door opened, Colt watched as she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," she said. "We didn't know where you'd gone, or if you'd gone back home or what. Come in, and you can tell me where you've been."

Lorayne moved into the house and then paused. When she turned back to him, it was as though she were noticing the state of him for the first time. Her expression drew Colt's attention to himself too and he looked down. He was a wreck and Lorayne echoed his thoughts a moment later, using more colourful language. His clothes were filthy, the shirt he wore being cleaner than his pants on account that it wasn't his. At first he thought that the sweatshirt that was several sizes too large for him was Atticus', but he'd never seen the other wear anything like it. It wasn't Colt's, he knew that much. His old shirt was probably torn and covered in blood from the large hole in his stomach, so at least he should be thankful he wasn't wearing that.

"Let me sit down?" he suggested. "Then I'll tell you, it's a long story."

Colt tried to make sure that the story he gave Lorayne was as close to the truth as he could, without mentioning any of the magical aspects of his experience. Atticus' hints of the things that could be done to him if word got out were enough to make Colt keep things to himself. He had no desire to test if Atticus were telling the truth. So, he told Lorayne about the trip he'd taken to the hospital the day of the storm, although he did downplay the seriousness of the injury to take into account the help he'd had healing.

"Jesus. You're lucky you aren't worse," Lorayne said. "You say that Grant finally agreed to sell the restaurant to you. That is quite the feat in itself. You're welcome to stay here if you like."

"I think I've overstayed enough already," Colt explained. "Chuck's a good guy and I want him as a friend if this is to be my new home. I feel like he's been short with me lately."

"He's just a fuss who likes his space a particular way. He's never done well with house guests, but the offer is still there if you need it."

"Thanks Lorayne. The two of you have been a huge help."