Gravy Patterson's Arc

Chapter 11 of 11

Gravy walked back from the shed with Henry's voice still scratching at him. The fire was lower now. One log left, glowing orange at the heart. The boys hadn't moved. Preston sat under the cedar with an empty plate balanced on his knee, watching the flames like they owed him something. Nobody was checking their phone. Nobody was standing up to leave. Derek had dragged a karaoke machine out of his truck at some point. It sat by the fire ring, lights pulsing pink and blue against the dark. One of the boys was butchering a country song. Two others were laughing too hard to sing along. Preston cracked half a smile under the cedar. Gravy stood at the edge of the firelight and just looked. Coworkers, cousin, old enemy, a crowd of neighbors who'd wandered in from the road and stayed. A vibrant huddle of people who had no plan to go anywhere. Preston stood up slow and walked over. He pulled a thick brown wallet out of his back pocket, fat with crumpled bills. He pressed it into Gravy's hand. "For the food. So. Hah. For everything." He shrugged inside his own sentence. "That is it. That is the whole apology." Gravy looked down at the wallet, then back at Preston, and pushed it gently against his chest. "Keep it. Sing something." Preston huffed a laugh. He took the machine instead. The last log cracked and fell into coals. Nobody got up. Somebody threw a folding chair leg on. Somebody else dragged a busted pallet over from the fence. The fire kept going on scraps and stubbornness. Preston sang something off-key into the night and the boys howled. Gravy sat down on the cold ground beside the ring and let the heat hit his face. May 24. People here. Nobody leaving early. He thought about the couch. The cold poutine. The year of waiting for an answer that never mattered as much as he'd built it up to. That memory was still in him. It just wasn't on top anymore. This was on top now — a karaoke machine, a fat wallet refused, his cousin half-drunk, Preston singing badly, the boys staying. He had what he came here to make. Gravy closed his eyes for one second. When he opened them, the coals were still red and his people were still there. That was the whole dream. He had it.