Man with the Mustache

Man with the Mustache

Part 1

Theodore Raymond. What can be said about Theodore? He is a man in his early forties, divorced, with no children. But what does that say about him? Nothing, really. Perhaps we would know more about Theodore if there was more to know. But there just wasn’t much to know about the guy. He had no hobbies, no memorabilia, no photos of his childhood or family, no art, no sense of style, and worst of all, no fire in his eyes. When he was married his wife decorated their home in all these things (except it was her childhood and family photos), but since she left, she took all these things, leaving only the weddings photos on the otherwise barren walls. To this day those photos were still hanging.

Theodore had pale skin, but his cheeks were often flushed rosy red, which was the most characteristic thing about him. His straight black hair was grown-out, shaggy, and unkempt. The only mirrors he looked at were the ones in the bathrooms of his home, while he brushed his teeth. Throughout the day his hair did a lot of moving around. Think Albert Einstein. For the last seven months Theodore let his beard and mustache grow out too, partly out of curiosity, but mostly out of neglect. They were for the most part, unkempt. It was plain to see Theodore had given up on himself. Even his belly was stretching out his tucked-in, buttoned down shirts, and his pants were substituted for sweats with elastic waist bands. Theodore did not see the divorce coming; it was to his complete, yet dull surprise. The day he came home to the news he thought it was an April fool’s joke, since it was in fact the first of April. (Sometimes things just happen that way.)

“Theodore, do you remember last month when you asked me if I was happy? And you remember what I said? Well, I lied to you. I’m not happy, not with you, at least. And I can’t keep doing this to us. It’s not right to continue this way. I gave you six unimaginably glorious years of my life… of my youth! Would I do it again? I don’t think so. Except! If it were not for being married to you and being dragged up here in the middle of nowhere, I wouldn't have finally met someone who really makes my heartbeat with fire again. Someone I actually desire! I think we both know what I’m talking about.”

Theodore’s wife, Anisha, was a beautiful and passionate foreign woman who gained her citizenship by marrying Theodore. Getting married was a means to an end for her, and she had secretly been on birth control during their marriage. She always knew she would one day divorce Theodore and did not want the trouble of having his children. Theodore always did appreciate her sense of humor, though, and after a long pause while he processed all that was just said to him, he burst out in an awkward laughter.

“Ah, haa, haa! April fools, right! Oh, that was funny dear! I never see those coming, especially from you!” Theodor exclaimed. Theodore was an honest man and had been a provider their entire marriage, so Anisha did not want to hurt him too much. But seeing how he was not believing her, she had to confess she had been having an affair with their across-the-street neighbor for months, who just-so-happened to prefer to go by the name “Chaz”, instead of his official name, Charlie. Often, during his therapy sessions, Theodore would digress on this fact.

“I mean… really! My wife leaves me for a man named Chaz? Fucking Chaz! That’s the stupidest name I can think of! And he happens to be the biggest tool in the whole neighborhood! Always calling people “boss” or “bud”. When he shakes your hand, I think he makes it a point to grab your fingers. I mean, who doesn’t grab your hand for a handshake? That’s something we learn as kids, right? Shaking hands is common sense! It’s shaking hands! Or, if you manage to make it to his hand, he’ll twist your arm over until his hand is on top of yours, as some kind of… I don’t know… pathetic display of superiority, I guess? I really didn’t know what was happening the first time we introduced. I thought we were having an arm wrestle! I mean the guy actually puts his college fraternity letters on his mailbox. He’s in his 30s! He calls his house the “frat-house” of the neighborhood. It really makes me wonder, what came first, the name, or the stupid personality? And then, if being his neighbor isn’t enough, my wife goes and moves in with him across the street from me, so now I have to see her in the mornings as she goes out to get the paper, sometimes only wearing his old college t-shirts, and I’m going off to work to pay off the divorce settlement so I don't lose my business! It’s as if this isn’t even real! I couldn’t think up a worst scenario for myself. I really thought I loved her! But I know I didn’t. I couldn’t understand why she even wanted to marry me. Truthfully, I don’t even miss her. I never knew how much I didn’t care about her until she left. But still, I have to see her every day… you know what that feels like? Like my life is just out of my control, and God, or whatever, is just putting me through all of this because I never believed in him before. And now I’m just the butt of his joke! Like, oh, do you see that guy Theodore down there? He’s a good guy, never hurt anybody, I think I’ll make his life hell!”

To which his therapist, a small balding man who wore a bowtie and small square rim glasses, would reply, “Very interesting Theodore, what an abstract way to see the world! Let us explore this idea of your life being out of your control. Are there other specific things in your life that you perceive to be out of your control? How do they make you feel, and who would this author-of-your-life be? Who do you think God is? What do you think he has in store for your future?”

Theodore was never prepared to talk about life in a deeper context whenever he was asked these kinds of questions. He was never able to grasp life’s circumstances beyond the moment. In the end he always just summed it up as a series of random experiences that had no meaning whatsoever. Purpose, for Theodore, was to exist, for better or worse. Deep down, he never really understood what it was to be in love with another human being. He gave up on that concept as a child. Theodore never liked attention; he was a severe introvert. He learned early on that if he only stayed quiet and did nothing to bring attention to himself, he could sail through life unnoticed. He became so good at avoiding anything undesirable that he hardly felt anything at all, excerpt unbearable loneliness and disconnect. Now he just felt numb all the time.

Theodore lived in Bushwack, a small, secluded town in the mountains. It was a quaint community with a handful of businesses, and one elementary school (k-8). The nearest high school was 20 miles away in a different town. Bushwhack was self-sufficient for the most part but might not survive were it not for the tourists who passed through. The main road running through it was an old highway that made the town a small “stop-and-go” for tourists driving from the big city of Torres to the large summer-and-winter getaway of Lake Gorganon. Highway 77 was a narrow but well-kept single lane highway. It winded through the mountain forests and hills, with hidden neighborhoods and several lone houses tucked away in wilderness.

The people who lived in Bushwack were not inclined to be sociable. They did not necessarily like all the tourists driving through their town throughout the year. Tourists sped through the stop signs, played loud music, and tossed trash out their car windows. But because they brought so much business into town the locals tolerated them. The most popular spot in town was the “world famous ‘77 burger.” It was a popular stop-and-go and was even featured in a traveling magazine as a tourist tradition.

It was no secret the locals dreaded the idea of one of these tourists happening to like Bushwack and deciding to move there. They were not mean people, the locals. They were just... anti-social. They did not understand the city-dwellers' tendency to turn everything into the same things; like business, restaurants, and even whole communities. And they did not find them to be genuine in character. Similarly, the “city-dwellers” did not think the locals of Bushwack to be cultured or even intelligent, and so they always spoke down to them, in a condescending way.

A small population of city-dwellers had been growing in Bushwack after a property developer cleared out 100 acres for a modern suburban neighborhood. “Commuters” is how the locals referred to those who lived in Bushwack but drove an hour and a half to Torres each day for work and most of their social gatherings. There was an interesting dynamic that arose between these commuters and the locals. A disconnect wedged between them, which was growing more and more uncomfortable over the years and therefore more irreparable. The locals were homegrown people who didn’t have much in terms of money and exposure. They rarely travelled and bartered between themselves for goods and services as much as they purchased anything at the store. They had a closeness and understanding about life and their community that the commuters secretly wondered about. The commuters came in couples, either married or unmarried, usually having no children, a lot more money, and a lot more opinions on current events and world affairs. Naturally they were more “hip” with the current times, and it showed in their fashion and the way they spoke. Whether they meant to or not they looked down on the locals as backcountry, uneducated hicks. They didn’t see it as their fault, though, only something the locals were choosing not to change about themselves.

Most of the commuters came to share a vision of Bushwack as being an investment opportunity for their future. The small town had massive potential for further corporate and residential development. They all held in their hearts the idea of being among the first living there when all of this would happen, thus in a way making themselves the new locals; a prestige they could not purchase. They were eager to hold it over the heads of all the new tourists they expected would flock to their new forest haven. They saw those currently living in Bushwack as one day just… dying off.

Lately, with the commuters becoming more adamant about inviting more name-brand businesses and scouting land for more conventional suburban neighborhoods in town, a hot tension started brewing beneath the surface of Bushwack between the commuters and the locals. The locals felt threatened, seeing their quiet and simple way of life in jeopardy. They did not want to give up their simple lifestyle for the common cultural values of the cities and suburbs that surrounded them. They did not want the poverty, drugs, noise, crime, and other riffraff that was associated with those places. In turn, the commuters perceived this resistance as futile. To them, their own vision for Bushwack was an inevitable changing of the times that could not be stopped.

Theodore was somewhere in between, both in ideology and residency. He was from the city of Torres, but never liked the busy hustle and bustle of city life. He sought out a quiet and peaceful place to live. After passing through Bushwack a couple times, he decided he’d found it. So, he rented a small office space on the main street of Bushwhack (highway 77) that was amongst a few other businesses, like the pharmacy and post office. He was a website developer. After building websites for all the local business and clientele in Bushwack he branched out to offer his services in Torres. He took only a few trips a month to Torres, for business, therapy, and shopping. He used to work strictly from home until his wife convinced him that a more conventional “work-life structure” would be beneficial to their overall marriage. She took on the role as the stay-at-home wife, who quickly began having an affair with their neighbor Chaz, who happened to work from home.

Theodore quickly liked having his own office space. It was across the street from the Famous ‘77 Burger and he enjoyed watching the tourists coming in and out of town and stopping for a burger. The restaurant had a giant sign of a hamburger atop it and received the most customers of any business in town. It was an average sized restaurant, with a large patio space for customers outside. It was now owned by a woman named Wanda, who inherited it from her mother, Mary, when she passed away.

Wanda’s daughter Courtney was raised in Bushwack and now operated the business with her husband, Greg, who was from Torres and always wanted the people of Bushwack to know it. His air of superiority over the locals was said to be just his personality. “Oh, that’s just how he is, it’s not personal. He’s really quite nice once you get to know him.” Courtney must have said that dozen times a year. Greg never tried to get close to the locals or even get to know them, even while his wife was still so connected with all of them. “He’s a smug son-of-bitch, isn’t he?” The locals would comment. With the tourists, Greg always appeared relieved to speak with “civilized folk.” Theodore learned a lot from his observations across the street. Whenever Lake Gorgandas had a classic car show, a concert, a motorcycle club meeting, or any other occasion for mass tourist travel, Theodore spent much of his day watching them all stop by for a Famous ‘77 burger.

What made Bushwack special to the townspeople was its small-town feel and location. It was close enough to the city of Torres to still have access to the modern luxuries and healthcare services, but far enough away to keep its own culture and pace. Each winter it snowed anywhere from one to three feet. The schools and businesses would close for a day or two until the roads were cleared by John’s Tree Service. John owned four trucks for cutting trees in the summertime and clearing roads in the winter. John had three employees, all of them his sons. His two eldest sons, Alexander and Anderson, took after John and were reliable and diligent when it came to work. His youngest son, 26-year-old Darrell, was less so. He did not enjoy his life cutting trees and clearing snowy roads. He was shorter than his bearded and burly older brothers and father, but much easier on the eyes. His mother, Susan, had passed away of pneumonia shortly after his birth. She was one of the elementary teachers in Bushwack. It was a dark time for the locals. Nearly all of them came to the funeral service. Susan was never around to defend Darrell growing up. Though his father was not an abusive man, he was also not an affectionate one. Darrell was partial to drinking and mild drug use, and could be considered a functioning alcoholic, though on numerous occasions he was found passed out behind the pharmacy. Whenever it took longer than usual to clear the snowy roads, the whole town assumed it was because of Darrell’s ineptness. He was an outcast in Bushwack, and were it not for his anxiety and fear of crowds he may have moved to Torres. With his vulnerable personality and experimental tendencies, it was a good thing he did not.

Darrell found a refuge in Theodore, who welcomed Darrell into his life shortly after he was divorced and alone. On the office couch Darrell would sit and complain about the harshness his brothers and father showed him. Theodore would listen; sometimes he would reiterate what his own counselor told him, and sometimes he too complained about his ex-wife and general mundane life. The two shared bouts of daytime drunkenness in his office, and from there they would stumble to the Famous ‘77 Burger for lunch. It was the only time Theodore had the courage to do so, as the hamburger shop was the most popular place in town, and he too was anxious of social interactions.

Being seen with Darrell gave Theodore a mixed reputation. On one hand he was known as one of the smartest people in town, mostly by the locals, for his education and computer know-how. They liked him because he lived and worked in Bushwack. On the other hand, he was seen as a loser and cuck who’s only friend was the town alcoholic. This view was primarily held by the commuters. Had Theodore been more sociable with the townsfolk he would have known about these rumors and reputations about him. But as it was he simply was not aware of such things. He was, as he always had been, a loner in life, consumed by his work and obligation to his clients. He was content with living his life this way, since it was the only way he’d ever known how to live it.

The commuters relied on John’s Tree Service more than the locals each winter season. They needed him to clear the highway to Torres so they could get to work. John was a born and raised Bushwacker who was hired by the town hall members at a modest cost for his seasonal services. He was much obliged to do it, as he saw it his responsibility to his hometown. He cleared all 50 miles out of Piner County until he reached Oak County, where Torres was. Sometimes he would clear more if the other county hadn’t made it that far yet. He and his sons would wake up early, plow all day and sometimes even into the evening if it were storming.

You could say the commuters were unwise to live in a place so far away from their work. When the commuters saw John in town they put on big, condescending smiles. But John was aware of the way they spoke about him behind his back. He did not trust their kindness, since they were so unkind to the other locals. Were it not for John, his good health and ability to provide his services, the commuters would all most likely lose their jobs, since it often snowed heavily during the winter months and lasted for weeks. But to the commuters, it was a service he was well compensated for. To the commuters, it was his only source of income. To the commuters, it was the only job he was qualified to do. They did not fully appreciate John, and even for his service they did not completely respect him. Behind his back they mocked him. Strangely enough, most of them slowly started to withhold their courtesy and respect from the locals. They took the roads being cleared for granted, believing it always was and always would be done, somehow.

The truth of the matter was the entire town would be completely isolated in the wintertime were the roads not clear of the snow. Food and supplies traveled into Bushwack from Torres on highway 77. The other route was by Interstate 12, which connected onto highway 77 near Lake Gorgandas. But it was 120 miles through a winding mountain road. Were the passage from Torres to Bushwack inaccessible, the whole town would suffer, which is why the commuters often disregarded John’s service as a mere necessity and obligation to the survival of Bushwack itself. Therefore, they never considered how hard living it really could be, were it not for the comforts they imported daily from the city, or the locals who tended to the town like a community garden. Bushwack did not offer the commuters much of the luxuries they desired. Which was why they were constantly advocating for more business to come into town. It was the beautiful scenery, lower home prices, and general peace and safety of Bushwack that brought them there in the first place. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of a more thriving and appealing, small-town community? But this lightbulb moment was a dark cloud for the locals.

Part 2

Bushwack was bustling with tourists who were stopping in from their leisurely drive to Lake Gorgandas. All the rooftops and trees were blanketed with a fresh coat of snow. It was the beginning of the winter season and the first snow transformed the town into a cozy, post-card scene. The tourists from Torres and its suburbs were heading up to the ski and snow parks of Lake Gorgandas for the holiday weekend. It was one of the busiest times of year for Bushwack and its novelty shops. The town only had a couple motels; the Bushwhack Lodge and the 77’ Inn. Neither had vacancy in their combined 50 rooms. They were all reserved by tourists earlier that year.

Theodore was in his office staring across at the Famous ‘77 Burger. Through the crowds of tourists he was watching Courtney with unshakable focus. Her glowing red hair stood out like a rose amongst the green leaves of its bush. She worked everywhere she was needed, from taking orders at the cash register to serving burgers to customers. Nobody would have known she was the owner of the most profitable business in town. She had the charm of a small-town girl with the beauty of a billboard model. Ever since the divorce, Theodore spent more time looking out of his window and subsequently more time staring at Courtney. He had helplessly fallen in love, although his only interactions with her were the times he got day-drunk with Darrell and stumbled over for a burger.

Theodore’s daydream was popped when the flashy, city-boy Greg, pulled into the Famous ’77 parking lot and parked in a “no-park zone”. It was well known that he hardly lifted a finger in work at the restaurant, yet he wore the success of the Famous ‘77 in every way he could. The most obvious being the red sports car he parked in front of the shop each time he went there (which wasn’t all that often.) He got out of the car and waltzed into the shop like a beloved owner. He spoke with all the customers he passed like he knew them personally. He walked into the restaurant from the back door. Theodore rolled his eyes and tuned his attention toward Courtney again, who was laughing with an elderly couple after she brought their food. He loved how honest her face was with people. It is as if you could know exactly what she was feeling just by looking at her. She was trustworthy,

Theodore glanced back at his computer screen. Currently he was working on an advertisement campaign for a real-estate company from Torres that wanted to begin developing neighborhoods in Bushwack. The campaign would begin with marketing, finding the investors, then the property, then taking a survey to ask how the locals of the Bushwack felt about it (which was the least necessary process in the minds of the realtors.) He was looking over his work. On the homepage was the snooty smiling face of the handsome but greasy real-estate agent. There was nothing honest about his face. But Theodore never turned away a client based on morals or ethics.

Aside from the townspeople his company, Connect Bushwhack, had a good reputation for being consistent and punctual. Theodore knew one day he would have to hire another web designer. He laughed at the idea of someone commuting from Torres into Bushwack. “The locals are going to love that,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes yet again. He had been trying to teach Darrell what he could, knowing he was smart enough to do it, if only he could focus. But so far he had no luck convincing the man-child of pursuing a life of honest and productive work. Darrell would always kindly dismiss the idea. “If I wanted to work I’d go out and cut trees with my old man,” he’d say.

After a few minutes of pondering Theodore looked again to see Courtney. Only now her face was unusually distorted with sadness. He got out of his seat and walked to the front window to get a closer look. She walked to an empty table on the patio where customers had just left and put her head into her hands. She was visibly crying, right in public, as if she could not help it. It was a depressing sight, not to mention for Theodore, who was deeply empathetic towards her. Then he caught a glimpse of Greg walking out of the shop and towards his red sports car, waving and smiling at the customers he passed. He quickly got into his car and sped out of the parking lot, screeching his tires and showering off, just as some of the more annoying tourists tended to do.

Theodore’s usual envy of Greg suddenly turned into anger. He couldn’t know why, but he was certain Greg was the reason for Courtney’s sudden change of character. Seeing her had become the best part of his day. Her radiating smile uplifted his mood more than the bland coffee he made each morning. He never liked, nor trusted Greg, even if he had never met him. He was popular with the commuters, who had seen him as a local hot shot and pioneer in their grand scheme of taking Bushwack over. But none of the locals liked him. He was pretentious and condescending, calling people “bud” and “pal” without the slightest intention of getting to know them or having any respect for them. He was equivalent to Chaz as far as Theodore knew.

Something inside him changed in that moment. Rather than be a secret admirer forever, he now felt he had to help Courtney, and protect her. After a quick examination, everything in his brain now told him the only way he could help her was to marry her. This thought ignited a burning inside his chest that was as strange as it was intense. When was the last time he felt that? He feared this feeling at first. He wondered if he was going to be alright or if he was becoming sick. But after several minutes of feeling this unusual and frightening sensation, he began to be empowered by it. A fire had started in his heart that would not be quenched by simple thought. It would require action. His eyes glowed with wonder and anticipation.

Theodore shut down his computer and packed his things as quickly as he could. He grabbed his keys off the hanger and walked out the backdoor. While he was locking it, behind him he heard Darrell. “Hey, I was just coming over. Do you want to get drunk?” he asked, holding up a six pack of beer and wearing his baggy clothes and guilty smile.

Theodore finished locking the door and looked at Darrell. Usually, Theodore would be pleased at the sight and would oblige Darrell. He always appreciated a distraction from work. Few things had been more pleasurable in his dreary state of being than day drinking and eating a Famous ‘77 burger. He usually finished all his work by this time anyway, and since he knew it was a tradition that could not last, he honored it while it did. But today he had a different thing on his mind. He had discovered purpose.

“Sorry, Darrell. I’m off work already. I’m going home.” He replied. Darrell stopped from dragging his feet and looked around at the ground, visibly saddened and confused at what he’d do next. Theodore was helpless to the pathetic sight. “Umm.. do you want to come over?” He asked.

Darrell looked up with hope in his eyes. He had never been invited to Theodore’s home before. “Can I?” Darrell asked liked a child. Theodore rolled his eyes.

“I just invited you, didn’t I? Now hurry up and get in. I have something important to tell you.” The two got inside Theodore’s green 4x4. It was old but kept in pristine, collectors’ condition. He turned the ignition and let the bulky engine warm up. He glanced at Darrell, who was holding the booze in his lap.

“How do you keep your car so clean?” Darrell asked.

“Usually by not bringing dirty things inside,” Theodore replied, staring at Darrell, who was still looking in the backseats. Suddenly he turned quickly with a stern expression. “Are you calling me trash?”

Theodore smirked.

“You know, I don’t need this. I can always take my whisky somewhere else if you’re going to call me trash. Good luck telling your important shit to someone else who cares.” Theodore quickly put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking lot.

“Don’t be so sensitive Darrell, besides, you know it’s true!” Theodore said.

Darrell stared at Theodore, waiting for an apology.

“Alright. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m just excited. I feel so…alive! It’s like… I’m pissed off, but I’m happy about it. I can’t explain. But we’re going to celebrate! Oh yeah!” Theodore said.

“Oh yeah? Did you really just say that? This is weird. You’re usually never excited. What are we celebrating? Wait, did you take drugs earlier?” Darrell asked, scratching his bushy chin and studying Theodore.

“I felt something today for the first time since the divorce,” Theodore stated.

“You serious?” Darrell asked.

Theodore nodded, glancing over to make serious eye contact. Darrell nodded along. “Woah, that’s cool. Well alright then! Cheers!” He cracked open a beer and started drinking.

“Not in here you idiot! Not in my car! What did I say about bringing trash inside? See! You’re going to spill it all over my seats!” Theodore barked. Darrell kept chugging until it was finished. Drips of beer spilt out of his cheeks. He wiped it with his sleeve. Afterward he rolled the window down and threw the can outside, then wiped his face again. Theodore glanced over in disbelief, careful to stay on the road.

“You know, you’re the only one in town who would do that. You can’t even get away with it anymore.” Theodore said.

“Whatever, everyone’s going to think a tourist did it. Besides, I'll pick it up later. I pick up cans all the time when I see them on the streets. I care about Bushwhack. This is my hometown; I don’t want to see it littered up.” Darrell said in seriousness. There was a pause.

“I don’t know how to address that statement you just made. It’s so… unbelievably stupid, on so many levels. You collect cans because you need the money! And if you cared about Bushwack you wouldn’t be contributing to the litter! And, you could have saved yourself time by not throwing the can out the window in the first place, which for you is like throwing away money! Do you not see this? This is severe stupidity Darrell. I’m concerned.” Theodore said. Darrell’s eyes looked around as he thought about it. “Shit,” he said under his breath.

Theodore lived in the most modern neighborhood in Bushwack. It resembled the typical layout of a suburb, with all the houses nearly identical to each other. Each had a small front yard and backyard, and shrubs and greenery that were not local to the area. The houses, being among the nicest and newest in all Bushwack, were all populated by the commuters, aside from Theodore. They enjoyed the traditional suburban neighborhood lifestyle, even if it was a bubble within a bubble. Theodore drove through the neighborhood quickly to get home as soon as possible. He didn’t want to risk being seen bringing the town drunk into the neighborhood. The HOA had a case pending against him already for an untamed front lawn, late night noise, and association with undesirables.

“Last time I was in these parts I had the sheriff’s called on me and went to jail for the night,” Darrell said. Theodore shot his eyes toward him. “Why, what’d you do?” He asked. Darrell shrugged his shoulders, “just… drunk in public I guess. That’s what the deputy said. But I wasn’t drunk at all, just hung over. I was just taking a walk; I’d never seen this neighborhood before and finally wanted to.” Theodore knew he was probably telling the truth. He believed the commuters would treat the cops like their personal muscle, and he believed the cops would assume Darrell was drunk and take him to jail for the night. Theodore might have been from the city, but he was not like the rest of the commuters. He hated his neighbors and only bought a house in the same neighborhood because his wife wouldn’t have moved to Bushwack otherwise. Personally, he’d rather maintain a small cabin further away in the woods.

Theodore slowed down and pulled into his driveway. The garage door opened slowly and he parked inside. Once it was closed behind him he told Darrell it was okay to get out. “If my neighbors know I brought you over here it would be the last straw for me.”

“So what? You said yourself you hate seeing your ex-wife every morning. I thought you wanted to move out anyway. Let them see me. I’ll pull my pants down and shit on their lawn. We’ll make a spectacle of it. It’ll be worth it.” Darrell said, opening another beer.

“I’ll leave when I’m damn well ready too. Not sooner! I’m not going to let those jackasses dictate my life.” Theodore barked again. Darrell thought about it.

“Aren’t they already doing that if you have to hide me?” He asked.

Theodore tilted his head down and stared at Darrell.

“Shut up. You wouldn't understand. You never give your enemies ammunition. Besides, when I get kicked out it means they win. Right now, I’m a thorn in their side. I just keep pricking them. If I get kicked out, I can’t prick them anymore, can I? You see what I’m saying? It’s bigger than you know.” Theodore said in wild eyed and crazy spurt. Darrell squinted in doubt.

“Sure it is,” he said.

The house was two-stories and still had the decor his ex-wife picked out when they moved in. The two men walked through the laundry room, down the hallway, through the living room and straight into the dining room. Theodore finally grabbed a beer and sat down at the table, gesturing for Darrell to do the same. They drank in silence for a few minutes until it started getting awkward for them both. “So, quite the celebration,” Darrell said, unscrewing the whiskey bottle. Theodore looked at Darrell, wondering if he should really share his idea. He remembered Darrell didn’t have any other friends besides himself, so there was no risk of him telling anybody else. It was something they had in common—they only had each other. “Okay, are you ready to hear it?” Theodore asked. Darrell nodded; doubtful it would even be interesting.

“I’m going to marry Courtney, from the Famous ‘77 Burger.”

Darrell’s eyebrows raised in suspicion, then intrigue, then excitement as he thought about it. He took his beer and held it up as if to cheers, but then realized something. “Wait, she’s already married, isn’t she? To that weird guy, Clark? Wait…Chad? What’s his name?” Theodore’s eyes closed and he rubbed his head, as if to block out the sight of Darrell thinking from his vision.

“Yeah. She’s already married... to Greg. But that guy is a total wannabe. He’s like Chaz, only I hate to admit it, I think he’s even worse. He doesn’t work at the 77’, he doesn’t work in town… he doesn’t work at all as far as I know! All he does is flaunt their money to the rest of the town and tourists. That’s not Courtney’s style. That’s not Bushwack’s style. He doesn’t fit in here, and he doesn’t even try. He’s basically a gold digger… and Courtney doesn’t love him. How can she? So what, they met in college? Small town girl in the big city… she just didn’t know any better! She was just… infatuated by him. By the idea of him! But that's about to change. All I have to do is make her see that, and then I’ll marry her. I mean, I’m in love with her. I don’t even miss my ex-wife anymore. So, there’s nothing holding me back.” Theodore said with certainty.

Darrell nodded his head. “Yeah, well, one thing is holding you back. The fact that she is married. And you haven’t even officially introduced yourself to her. And you look like a nerdy lumberjack. And your only friend is the town deadbeat. And… I hate to say it bud, but Greg’s got that aura that women are attracted to, you know? He’s hip with the times. He has style. He plucks his eyebrows. And he’s confident of himself. And you… well, you pretty much go unnoticed in most social encounters. But if you can work around those things, then yeah, she’s practically yours.”

There was a long pause as Darrell took another drink from his beer, still appearing to think of more reasons to tell Theodore, but apparently not being able to.

“Any more positive encouragement?” Theodore asked. Darrell tried to think of more things but became distracted instead.

“Is this really your place? It doesn’t feel like you. It feels like we’re in someone else’s home. Wait… are we?” Darrell asked, looking around suspiciously.

“Are you sure you didn’t take any drugs today?” Theodore asked.

“Just the usual ones,” Darrell replied.

Theodore took a moment to understand what Darrell was saying before he replied. He realized it was because his home looked nothing like his office. In his office Theodore didn't have floral wallpaper and weird abstract art hanging around. He didn’t have a slight obsession with the color yellow that was neatly arranged in the decor everywhere you looked. Now that Theodore finally noticed what was obvious to Darrell, he realized he’d never really taken control of his own house since his ex-wife moved out.

“Yeah, well, I figure I’ll just keep it this way and sell the whole house, furnished as is. Whoever wants to move in this house, into this neighborhood, will like all this stupid yuppie stuff, you know?” Theodore said.

“I didn’t say it was stupid. It’s actually… kind of nice. It’s like clean, you know. It just doesn’t feel like you.” Darrell reiterated. “Anyway, do you think you’re really in her league?”

That was something Theodore never thought of before now. He only knew he loved her. He never wondered if he deserved her. He looked down at his shoes and then his clothes, until his worried eyes fell back onto Darrell.

“I guess I do have to think about that,” Theodore admitted. There was silence.

“Well, look. It’s not that hard to fix you up. I may be a slob and an alcoholic, but I have an eye for style. I was quite popular in high school.” Darrell said.

“Oh yeah, well in a class of 50 that wouldn’t be that hard. So whatever happened to you, popular guy?” Theodore asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darrell said, “but like I said, it won’t be that hard to make you presentable. First thing we’ll need to do is cut your hair so it doesn’t look like you’re constantly rubbing balloons on your head. Next thing, we have to shave that stray cat off your face that you seem to be feeding every day because it gets bushier each time I see you. And there’s also crumbs in it, a lot of the time… I don’t really tell you because I don’t want to be annoying. But yeah, you need to look into a mirror more often.”

Theodore nodded his head in approval. “Yeah, I can do that. I guess it’s time. And Greg’s always clean shaven, so Courtney must like that.”

“Yes, let’s make you into Greg,” Darrell said, rolling his eyes. “So, do you want me to give you a haircut? I cut my dad and brother’s hair all the time. My rate is a flat 25$.” Theodore looked intrigued at Darrell. His mind wondered at what he meant. Was he being serious?

“Hold on. Do you mean it? You’ve been giving your family haircuts all this time?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve been doing it for them ever since I was a kid. Mom used to do it for them before she passed… I guess I just fell into it.” Darrell replied.

“Wow. I always thought they had nice…fresh haircuts. But I thought they went to Torres to get them done. Do you style it for them too?” Theodore asked.

“Duh! I’m a full-service stop. I show them how to do it and what product to use. I don’t know why I’m so good at it, I’m just a natural.” Darrell said. Theodore quickly got an idea.

“Man! There’s only one other barber in town, why don’t you open your own shop and cut hair all day? You could make the locals look as hip as those people from the city,” Theodore said.

“I don’t know the first thing about running a shop… besides, that would mean I’d have to quit drinking. And that’s the only thing I like doing.” Darrell said.

“Not necessarily. If you can still cut hair, who cares if you're drunk while doing it? I can even help you run the business side of it! I’ll even get you into the small shop next to mine! It’s some kind of… repair shop now. But I’ve never seen anybody go in or out of it. I bet we can—.”

“HOLD YOUR HORSES!” Darrell exclaimed. “Are you talking about old man Reno’s Musical Instrument Repair Shop? No way! He’s been there since I was a kid. He used to let us play with his guitars after school. I’m not kicking him out.”

“So that’s old man Reno’s shop, huh? I was wondering where the music shop was when I was reading his eulogy a couple months ago. Wow, so that space is literally unoccupied. I know exactly who to talk to. And if you don’t want it… well I’m already thinking about expanding my own business.” Theodore pondered.

“Old man Reno passed away?” Darrell asked, shocked by the news.

Theodore looked at Darrell from the corner of his eye. “You really need to stay current with the times. I read that two months ago. Whatever. Let’s just see what you can do with my hair, and we’ll talk about opening a shop for you later on. Consider this your audition.”

Theodore moved his chair into the kitchen. He searched his closet and brought Darrell his clippers and scissors. He brought in a white bed sheet and wrapped it around his body and sat down.

Darrell studied Theodore’s head. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Whatever’s going to make Courtney finally notice me,” Theodore said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh brother, why don’t I just give you a big mohawk then?” Darrell replied. Without saying another word, he started cutting, taking large pieces of hair off at a time. The pieces floated down onto the kitchen floor.

“You know, this is the longest I’ve ever let my hair grow out,” Theodore said. He felt uncommonly sad seeing it discarded on the white kitchen floor.

After twenty minutes it was finished. Darrell looked approvingly at his work. “Alright Teddy, are you ready for the big reveal?” He encouraged Theodore to get out of his chair and walk to the bathroom mirror. He himself stayed in the kitchen in anticipation of Theodores reaction.

“WOW! This is incredible Darrell! I look like Brad fucking Pitt!!” Theodore said. Darrell blushed and smiled. He walked inside the bathroom with Theodore to admire his work. But then he tilted his head to the side as he kept studying the reflection.

“Yeah, well maybe…without that big overgrown badger on your face.” Darrell said.

Theodore nodded and agreed. Darrell brought him the scissors, and Theodore began to cut his beard away. Once Darrell noticed how much Theodores looks were changing so rapidly, he got an idea.

“Wait! Before you cut it all off. Let’s have some fun!” He said.

Theodore was intrigued. He began trimming down the sides of his beard but left a long goatee hanging down. He said in a hillbilly voice.

“In the covenant, all the males have these long beards. Only the chosen one can be clean shaven. It’s ‘cuz all our wives don’t like kissing a man with facial hair. Mmhmm.” He said.

Next he trimmed and shaved his cheeks, but left bushy sideburns, a mustache and goatee.

“‘Ey there, lil missy. You wanna’ take a ride with a fine gentleman like myself, I know you’ve never seen sideburns, as immaculate as ‘des?” Theodore said in a smooth voice.

“Oooo you remind me of my uncle Leroy who used to hug me for too long,” Darrell said, imitating a teenage girl.

Theodore shaved himself down to only a goatee and swirly mustache.

“Now this ain’t actually half bad. Maybe I’ll just keep this.” Theodore said, striking a pose as if he had guns hanging from his waste. “I'm your huckleberry,” he said slyly. But Darrell shook his head.

“Dude, I admit it’s cool. But Greg is clean shaven. Courtney likes clean shaven men. Trust me. I know what she likes. I went to high school with her. She was a senior my freshman year. I had her in ceramics class. She’s obsessed with pretty boys. As naive as she may be, she knows what she likes. Now take the rest off.”

Theodore nodded. “Well, what should I take off first, the goatee or the mustache?”

“Take off the beard! Let’s see what you look like with just that big bushy ‘stache on your lip!” Darrell replied eagerly.

Theodore trimmed and shaved his goatee off. He stared deeply into the mirror when he was finished. He had never seen himself with only a mustache before. He instantly wished he hadn’t.

“How does anybody pull off a mustache? It’s so… grotesque.” He said, still astonished at himself.

“You… you look like somebody even I would call the cops on. Like a pedophile! Haha! Or a creepy 70’s pornstar! Haha! Dude I would not be seen in public with you! Ahaha!” Darrell laughed.

The two laughed together out loud, making their way into the kitchen to have another beer and more whiskey.

“Oh my God, I could never imagine having this mustache out in public. Nobody’s ever going to see this!” Theodore said.

“Wait! You have to let me take a picture!” Darrell said.

“Absolutely not! This never happened! I would never live it down. I feel disgusting just having it. I literally feel like I’m melting right now.” Theodore said.

The two continued laughing, seemingly unable to control themselves. They turned on music, drank more beer, and laughed and danced playfully in the kitchen.

“Dude, once you shave that hideous thing, Courtney’s definitely going to check you out. I didn’t know you were decent looking underneath all that scraggly hair!” Darrell said.

“What if I just leave it on? Could you imagine? ‘Hey Courtney, are you free this weekend because I know this nice little restaurant in the city we could try out...’” Theodore said in a silly voice, imitating a goofy character with his hands on his hips.

“The city!” Darrell laughed. “Yeah, take that mustache to the city. They’ll chase you out with pitchforks and torches!! Unless you go to the gay district! They’ll call you Freddy Mercury! If you can get Courtney to go on a date with you with that thing on your face, I’ll open a barber shop tomorrow!” The two laughed and drank more.

“What should I name it?” Theodore asked.

“Name it the Gregger!” Darrell replied.

They howled in more laughter.

But then something happened that neither man could have expected. The walls shook. The sounds of rumbling rolled upon them. Their hearts stopped momentarily. The lights flicked off and on before eventually blacking out. The two men stumbled around, falling onto their knees as they struggled to stay afoot. Beer cans fell from the counters and clanked onto the floor. Pictures fell off the walls, glass shattered everywhere. When the power went out they both found a doorway to cling onto. They eventually gave up on trying to stand anymore.

“It’s an earthquake! Stay down!” Theodore yelled.

“I can’t see what’s happening!” Darrell replied.

“No shit! Neither can I. Just stay, still.” Theodore said.

It lasted for 20 seconds, but felt like minutes. All of Theodore's household things had fallen over or broke. The power stayed out even after everything calmed down.

“Hold on! Stay where you are. I’ll get a flashlight.” Theodore said, wide-eyed and still in shock. He crept blindly along the side of the wall, hesitant and cautious. He thought quickly where his flashlights were. He got onto his knees and scrambled to the kitchen sink on all fours. There was a flashlight in the cabinet underneath.

“Hurry dude, I think something terrible happened.” Darrell said.

When Theodore turned on the flashlight he saw his house in disarray. Even the wallpaper was torn off the walls. He shined the beam of light onto Darrell, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, still closing his eyes and clinching the door frame.

“Dude, that thing is bright!” he replied, putting his hand up to block the beam. Theodore shined it away.

“Crap. My place is destroyed. Are you hurt?” Theodore said, examining his kitchen and dining room.

“No. I’m okay.” Darrell replied.

It was already nighttime, so no light was coming in from outside. It was pitch dark. Theodore walked over to Darrell and nudged him to follow. They quickly walked to the living room and sat on the couch. There was a long moment of silence as they adjusted.

“What do you think happened?” Darrell asked.

“It was an earthquake, for sure. I’ve never been in one before. Have you?” asked Theodore.

“No. Wow. I wonder how my dad is…Do you have another flashlight?” Darrell asked.

“Yeah, I have one in the bathroom, under the sink. You know where it is. Here take this and get it.” Theodore gave Darrell the flashlight. The beam of light shined a path leading him away.

As he returned, he briefly shined the light in Theodores’s face before sitting back down. He handed the flashlight back.

“You want to know the worst thing about all of this?” Darrell asked.

“What, did you see something?” Theodore asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I saw something really, really disturbing. I don’t know if you’re ready for this. I’m glad you’re sitting down.” Darrell said, seriously.

“Uh oh! What is it?” Theodore asked, worried.

Silence.

“Tell me! What is it man?” Theodore asked impatiently.

“Dude, you still have that big, freaking mustache on your lip,” Darrell said.

Theodore’s gut dropped. The two friends sat in silence on the couch, anxious at the possibility of a second earthquake. But it was only a matter of minutes before they fell asleep. Both slept as stones through the night.

Part 3

The dull morning light shined through the curtains, waking the men up from their shivering slumber. A freeze had taken over the home, the men had thin slivers of ice around their eyes that they broke upon opening them.

“I’m cold man!” Darrell screamed.

Theodore was already on his way getting blankets and jackets for them. They wrapped themselves up, contemplating why things felt so cruel in that moment. After realizing this was their fate, with no power and therefore no central heating, they stepped outside to see what else had transpired. Upon view they saw the streets, trees, and houses were completely covered in a fresh blanket of snow. It measured just over 2 feet, and it was still snowing. Other neighbors were also outside to witness the scene.

“When did all of this happen?” Darrell asked.

“It's unreal.” Theodore added, processing it all. Nobody was expecting a blizzard. The forecast had not called for it. As they stood there shaking cold, gazing at the neighborhood, they heard a noise. A low rumbling was growing louder. They were fearfully possessed that it could be another earthquake and could only wait and see what would happen next. What they saw confused them at first. A cloud of snow powder began to emerge at the end of the street. Then they could see the snow on the street being pushed away from the road. Behind it was a large white truck with a yellow snowplow attached to the front. Two similar trucks followed close behind. Everybody watched as they slowly parked in front of Theodore's house. On the side of the trucks was printed “John’s Tree Service” in dark green letters.

A tall, stout older man stepped out of the lead truck. He had a black, graying beard, wore blue jeans, a blue flannel shirt, and a thick orange jacket. His stern furrowed eyebrows had become a permanent resting face. Two other stout and similar sized men from the other trucks also got out and followed. They too wore blue jeans, flannel shirts (one was green and the other was brown), and thick orange jackets as well. One was wearing earmuffs. They all walked through the snow up to Theodore and Darrell.

“Why are you so much shorter than your dad and brothers?” Theodore asked discreetly as they were approaching.

“I guess I couldn’t be tall and good-looking,” Darrell replied. The men stopped about arm lengths away and stared at them in silence.

“Oh! Well! I’m glad you’re safe, boy. We’ve been searching for you. Went under the bridge, behind the pharmacy, even stopped by the recycling center. Shit, you had us worried son!” John said. Darrell’s eyes shot to the ground. He felt guilty.

Theodore noticed Darrell’s brothers both resembled their father. The brother who wore the earmuffs and the green flannel was Alexander. He had blond frosted tips atop his brown spiky hair. The other brother, Anderson, had a high-fade and classic hair style, parted to the side. John had a short faux hawk. They were the freshest haircuts in town, Theodore thought. John took a stern look at Theodore. He didn’t recognize him, but knew it was him. After he studied him for a moment, he nodded his head in approval.

“You have a generator, right Ted?” John asked. Nobody had ever called Theodore “Ted” before. Theodore shook his head. “Ah, thought you’d know better than that. You’ve been here long ‘nuff.” John said.

“There’s an HOA ordinance against them, because of the noise they make, and because they burn fossil fuels.” Theodore replied.

John looked at his sons next to him, they all made a face, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Come on Ted,” John began in an unusually warm and friendly jest, “you’re going to tell me these city… yuppies! don’t have the common sense it takes to survive a blizzard in the mountains, because it would disturb their teatime?” John replied. He hit his son next to him on the chest with the back of his hand. They all laughed. “These solar panels on all these homes ain’t doing nobody good now, are they? It’s about time you start looking for a new neighborhood, Ted. Put some distance between you and these commuters. Yain’t like them. And soon, it’ll turn into Lord of the Flies around here. IF you know what I mean.” John finished.

There it was again. Ted. Theodore had met John before, but he was always cold and distant. Even Darrell noticed how familiar his father was toward a practical stranger. He squinted to wonder why. Nonetheless, Theodore enjoyed the respect he was getting.

“Anyways, we can use all the help we can get. Come on Darrell, we’ve got work to do. That earthquake knocked down about a hundred trees across the highway. Powerlines are knocked over too. Can’t nobody get in or out of town. Come along with us Ted, you look like a man who can lift a few logs out the road.” John insisted, spitting his tobacco onto the snow.

Theodore winced at the sight of it sinking into the snow. But he nodded his head. “Yeah, sure. I can help.” He had never helped with anything like this before in his life. He never had an opportunity too. An excitement sparked inside him. His hands were soft from only working on his keyboard all day. But now they would be calloused and rough. And then what would Courtney think of him?

Another man who lived at the end of the street had been walking toward the group and finally reached them. He was a frail man, middle aged, wearing round glasses, his pajama bottoms, and a great big fluffy jacket with a fur lined hood.

“Excuse me, are you John? It’s John right? I mean I saw ‘John’s Tree Service’ on the side of those trucks there, and I’m just assuming your John. Uhm, are you going to finish clearing the street anytime soon? I really need to get to the store and buy some things.” He asked quickly, then grinned cheekily. John looked at him with annoyance, withholding himself from speaking anything bold.

“Sure. Getting right to it,” he said, gritting his teeth.

The neighbor smiled and nodded his head, as if giving his grace toward John for not having done it already. Then he looked at Theodore and dropped the act.

“And who the hell are you?” he asked.

“I live here, Corbin,” Theodore replied frankly.

“Theodore?” The neighbor asked. Theodore nodded.

“Well, you’re starting to blend right in with the locals these days, aren’t you? Probably from hanging out with them so much. Can’t wait for the rest of the neighborhood to see your… new look. Huh huh. I wonder what the HOA board will think about the kind of company you’re bringing around here.” Corbin said smartly, nodding to Darrell. He quickly turned around and started awkwardly walking through the deep snow, back to his house.

The men looked between themselves, wondering who was going to speak first. They all felt burned by Corbins insults, but eventually they just shrugged, seeming to come to an unspoken agreement between themselves. They overcame their anger by knowing the best way to respond was to not respond and let Corbin dig his own way out of the neighborhood.

“Let me go change real fast, John, then I’ll be right out.” Theodore said.

“You’d better borrow some clothes, Darrell, we don't have time to take you back home.” John said.

The two men withdrew into the home and got dressed while John and his sons got into their trucks and started them up. After a few minutes Theodore and Darrell came out and got into the lead truck with John. The trucks drove slowly, turning around where they were without finishing plowing the rest of the street. The inside of the truck smelt like dirt and fresh pine. It was surprisingly clean, Theodore thought. They passed many streets they would have normally started to plow but had a much more important engagement to attend first. Breakfast. They got into town and cleared a path straight to the Famous ‘77 Burger. There was one snowmobile parked next to the front door. The parking lot was completely covered in snow. The trucks pushed themselves inside and began plowing all the snow to the edges of the parking lot.

Courtney stepped outside and greeted them with a wave. John pulled aside her and rolled his window down.

“Thank you John! I knew you guys would come by for breakfast. Crazy weather huh? And that earthquake? These are some interesting times, who would have thought? Well, you and your crew can have breakfast on me, for all your trouble. I know you guys have a lot of work ahead of you today,” Courtney said.

“Nonsense. We may be the only customers you get all day! I’ll be treating the boys here to the meal. It’ll be the only compensation they get for all the hard work we’re about to do. Big job ahead of us. I saw the damage earlier. This is a big, big job.” John said. Courtney obliged and walked back inside.

“I can’t believe that girl is here. And came in her snowmobile of all things. It’s probably the only way she could make it! Ha! She’s too good for Greg,” John wondered aloud.

“She loves this place. Nothing will keep her from it if she can help it.” Theodore blurted out. He looked around nervously hoping nobody would respond.

The group walked into the restaurant and sat down at the largest table. The restaurant was up and running like any other day. Most people in town owned a 4x4 and had tire chains. In Courtney’s experience, she’d get at least a couple customers by the end of the day. Her family's motto was that if the customers stayed loyal to them, they’d stay loyal to the customers. And that meant being open every day for them, except holidays, of course. Courtney came to the table with 5 menus. She recognized everybody easily, except for Theodore. She studied him for some time, wondering who he was. Theodore felt nervous with her curious eyes on him. The truth was they hardly knew each other in the first place, even though Theodore felt they were much closer.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around here before, stranger,” Courtney said in her warm and familiar manner.

“Oh you’ve seen him before,” Darrell remarked, looking away at the others and holding back his smile. Theodore side-eyed Darrell. It was all happening so fast! This was the first time in his sober state of mind that he would meet the woman of his dreams. His eyes looked down to get a glimpse of his bushy mustache. If she didn’t recognize him, that meant he had a chance for a new start!

“I’m Theodore. But… you can call me Ted,” he said in a strong, friendly tone. The other men looked around at each other, impressed with his suave. John nodded indiscreetly.

“Okay! Hi there Ted, I’m Courtney. My family owns this restaurant,” Courtney said.

“It’s a great restaurant. Best burger I’ve ever had, I think.” Ted replied. Courtney’s eyes blossomed.

“So you have been here before! There’s something so familiar about you…” She remarked, squinting her eyes and trying to remember.

There was a pause. Theodore noticed the wedding band on her finger.

“So… ugh, do you and your husband run this place together?” he asked.

“Yes. How’d you know I was married?” She asked, pleasantly surprised. Theodore nodded to the ring on her finger. Courtney looked and understood, now holding her hand coyly behind her.

“Oh yes, the ring, huh huh. Well my husband runs the business end. He mostly works from home. I run the people side. Customer service is my specialty. I guess it just comes naturally. Plus, I learned it from the best, my grandma,” Courtney said proudly.

“You mean Lady May? Gosh she was a sweetheart,” John butted in. “I don’t know how many times she let me eat a hamburger here as a kid even when I couldn’t afford it. She’d always say, “your credit’s always good here.” And sure enough, I’d pay her back in full! Or I’d be mopping up the shop after closing. Either way, it was a sweet deal for me.”

“Thank you John.” Courtney said, delighted by John’s words. “Well, I’ll go ahead and start on those orders for you. Sit tight, they’ll be right out.” Courtney smiled at Ted again before walking away.

“That mustache might actually work in your favor. She seemed totally into you!” Darrell said.

“What are you two talking about?” Alexander asked.

“Theodore, I mean Ted, well he’s got his heart set on stealing Courtney away from Greg and marrying her himself.” Darrell said. His brothers laughed. Theodore burned with embarrassment.

“Oh yeah? Well good for you Ted. Her husband is a dipshit. I wish this whole town were rid of him.” John said.

“You know he’s got another girlfriend in the city, right?” Alexander said.

“What? Don’t be startin’ any rumors boy. I raised you better than that!” John barked.

“What! It’s the truth! He spends most his time in the city for a reason, and it ain’t for work. Besides, what else would keep a man away from Courtney’s bed? She must be sleeping alone more than half the week.” Alexander remarked.

“Are you serious?” Theodore asked. Anderson decided to chime in.

“Yes, I hate to say it, but even I know it’s true. At least three nights a week he sleeps in Torres. It’s not really a known thing, because nobody wants to keep a secret like that from Courtney, so most of the townsfolk are in denial about it. But I happen to know because I see his red car heading out of town when I’m sitting on my porch. Sometimes it’s late at night too! You see Ted, I live right by the county line, and I see his car going out, and then the next day or two, coming back in. That jackass drives so fast around here it’s not hard to miss him whenever he drives by. And that car’s so loud there’s no mistaking it. Shit, I know his comings and goings just by sitting on the toilet.” Anderson said.

“And Maggy told me Courtney broke down and cried during their Bible study yesterday evening. Apparently, and this ain’t coming from me, but they may have to sell the burger shop.” Alexander commented.

“Now both you hush up now! I don’t want these rumors spreading any further. Not on my watch! That’s theirbusiness and it ain’t got nothing to do with us! Besides, Wanda would never allow it! The restaurants still in her name, isn’t it?” John said.

“What’s that? You saying it ain’t got nuttin’ to do with us if that jackass sells the ‘77 burger? Is that what you’re suggesting? After all that about Lady May and your childhood…? This is her legacy! Hell, this place is the whole town’s legacy!” said Darrell.

“Apparently Wanda put the ’77 in Courtney’s name as an anniversary present just last year, right before she retired to south Florida.” Anderson said.

There was a tense pause. Until John broke the silence.

“Dammit. Ya’ll are right. I hate to hear about it… but it’s true. I’ve seen him driving in and out of town too. There ain’t no business in it. A guy like Greg, he just don’t know how good he has it. So, Ted, I wish you luck. We’re all behind you. Even if it’s a long shot.” John admitted.

When Courtney brought out their food they couldn’t be happier. Five fresh burgers, with all the works, and sides of golden crispy fries. While he had the chance Theodore thought he’d inquire more about what he just heard from the others.

“So…Courtney, what does your husband think about the ‘77 burger legacy? I bet he’s proud to be part of Bushwhack’s heritage, right?” Theodore asked. Courtney quickly looked away.

“Oh, well… you see the thing about Greg is… he can’t eat our burgers… he’s never had one,” she admitted with shame. There was a curious silence.

“Uhh, what’s that now?” Darrell asked, very confused. “How could he not have had a ‘77 burger by now? Being around the shop so much and smelling these delicious burgers grilling all day long? How does any human being resist?” he asked, almost frustrated.

“Oh, Greg isn’t around the shop much. He’s got so much business in the city that he’s hardly ever in Bushwack. Anyway, if there’s anything else I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to ask.” She said and began to walk away.

“But Courtney!” John called out. “I can’t help but wonder. How is it your husband has never had a ‘77 burger before?” Courtney looked embarrassed but replied.

“Well, he’s a vegetarian.” She said, and then quickly left.

A long silence proceeded for the time it took the men to finish their meals. Only the sounds of their chewing was heard. Nobody said a word, in fear that they’d end up losing their composure and laughing out loud, and nobody wanted to offend Courtney. So they said nothing, nor did they make eye contact with each other. They focused only on eating their meals as fast as they could. It was one of the hardest things any of them ever had to do. John paid for their meals, and then politely walked outside with his sons, where they finally had a rage of laughter out of sight. All of them except for Theodore, who stayed behind to get some more time with Courtney.

“Was Greg out of town last night, before the earthquake?” Theodore asked.

Courtney, who appeared to be reserving more pain than she’d want to let out, simply nodded, fighting back the tears. Theodore could only guess what she was feeling.

“We’re heading up to clear highway 77 right now. I guess there’s a hundred trees laying across it between here and the city. Even power lines are down. It may take a couple days, but we’ll get it clear.” Theodore tried to sound assuring.

“Oh, take your time. Greg went to…. well…” then a tear rolled down her cheek. Theodore was concerned now and stepped closer. “Hey, can I tell you something? I mean I know we just met, but I feel like I know you… or like you know me… anyway, um, do you believe in destiny?” She asked.

Theodore had to admit he liked the direction the conversation was going.

“Yes. But I also think, that sometimes we have to make our own destiny… making hard decisions that might change our life for the better.” Theodore said.

“Greg wants to sell the Famous ‘77 Burger!” She blurted out, and then started to cry.

“Wait what? Why?” Theodore asked.

“He says it’s hemorrhaging money!” Courtney said, crying again.

“Courtney, you have one of the oldest and most successful businesses in town! How the hell could it be hemorrhaging money?” Theodore asked.

“I don’t know, but he wants to sell the location to some corporate yogurt shop! Ugh! I can’t take it anymore. I had to tell somebody!” She replied, seeming to justify herself, and in her anger fight back her tears. Theodore couldn’t help himself.

“If you ask me the only thing hemorrhaging money around here is Greg. He needs to be hemorrhaged. I know all about the Famous ‘77 Burger. I know it’s not called the ‘77 burger because it’s off highway 77, but because your grandparents founded it in 1977. If you let me look at your records I can tell you what’s really going on. I have my own business too; I can help you.” Theodore said.

Courtney let out a few more tears, then smiled. “Thank you, Ted. Hey, there’s a little town hall meeting tonight. It’s nothing serious. Just some of the local business owners getting together with some hot cocoa and hot apple cider. I’d love for you to be there with us. It’ll be nice to have someone so smart and caring around.” Courtney said, and then blew her nose.

Theodore wasn’t aware of the town hall meetings before then.

“Yeah, of course I’ll come,” he replied, “I’ve got to go now. But I’ll see you later tonight!” Theodore said, looking at Courtney as she waved him off.

“By the way,” Courtney added, “I like your mustache, Ted. Nobody really has a mustache like that around here. It reminds me of my uncle's mustache when I was a kid.”

Part 4

As the convoy of trucks headed down the road the men were still laughing about Greg being a vegetarian.

“Women just don’t know better sometimes! I mean imagine that; her family owns the famous ‘77 Burger Shop, and she goes out and marries a vegetarian. I mean, I used to see Courtney as a child, just covered in meat, learning how to make patties! She used to eat the raw meat and make herself sick! Ah hell, Wanda used to laugh about how Courtney just loved to grind the meat herself,” John said.

“‘Anderson and Alexander were right, though. She told me herself that Greg wants to sell the shop. She seems so torn up about it. I knew Greg must have said something devastating to her. I would never have expected it to be this bad, though!” Theodore said.

“Yeah, but why sell the ‘77 burger? Why in the hell would she ever think about doing that? It’s not like they need the money. And what about the rest of the town? We’re just supposed to not eat ‘77 burgers anymore? They can’t do it!” Darrell said.

“I think Greg’s stealing money from them, but somehow he’s making it look like the business is hemorrhaging money. Apparently in a way that’s believable to Courtney, because, I don’t think she has a clue of what’s going on.” Theodore said.

John and his sons had spent the early morning plowing the main roads already. There were a few essential businesses open, and some people roving slowly in their 4x4’s. The roads were still icy though, and snowflakes were still falling, so everybody was being careful.

“Where’s Greg now?” John asked, struggling to keep in his rage from the news.

“He’s in the city,” Theodore replied. John just grunted in reply.

“Maybe we shouldn’t clear the trees after all,” Darrell wondered aloud.

“What’s that you’re talking about?” John remarked.

Darrell looked over, surprised that John even replied to his comment.

“I’m talking about who cares about the commuters? They’re the only ones who need the highway cleared! The supply trucks can always take Interstate 12 up to Lake Gorgandas, and then use the 77 to come into town. And that’s exactly what they’ll do. We might as well just plow the highway up towards Lake Gorgandas, instead!” Darrell suggested.

There was silence as John thought about it. Theodore couldn’t tell if Darrell was serious. It sounded like a crazy idea. Their truck began approaching a group of people who were standing in the road, just where the roads had finished being plowed to, and where the first tree lay knocked down. All their cars were parked behind them. Theodore could recognize them from his neighborhood, but he didn’t know what they were all gathered there for. Were they going to help? He wanted to be pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, but what about the tourists, they’ll be bypassing Bushwhack completely. How else will these businesses thrive!” John mulled it over, seeing the group ahead of him, already anticipating that they were there to complain.

“They’ll find a way! All I’m saying is we let those commutes figure out their own problems. ‘Cuz this ain’t our problem. Not really. We don’t ever leave Bushwhack! We go to Lake Gorgandas more often than the city. Let them hire some people to clear those trees away, and we can go back home and sit around the fire. Why are we breaking our backs for their benefit? They’re so ungrateful anyway!” Darrell argued.

The trucks came to a stop as they neared the group. They sat inside for a moment to assess what was going on. Then they all stepped out and walked to the front of John’s truck, and stood together, side by side, across from the commuters. Before them was a mob, dressed in their rarely used winter gear, and all of them visibly unhappy. Whether it was a sour face, folded arms, a tapping foot, everything about their body language told Theodore things were about to get ugly.

“Um John! What the Fuck! I had to call in sick today because these roads aren’t cleared yet!” A woman said, breaking the silent standoff.

“Does your truck not say, “John’s Tree Service?” Are those not slow plows on the fronts of your big trucks? Well John, I see a whole lot of snow and trees here that haven’t been taken care of yet!” A man followed.

“These are the days you actually have a job to do! And what do I see? Your entire crew parked at that burger shop eating for an hour! You have a nice meal, John? While the rest of us are missing work! We’ve got places to go, unlike the rest of you!” Another woman added.

All the different complaints slowly combined into one loud and annoying murmur.

“And thanks for plowing the rest of the street while you were there this morning! That was REAL nice of you wasn’t it! Is that what you call a ‘Grade A Job?’. Isn’t that what’s printed on your trucks? Where can I leave a review? Oh yeah, who’d ever read it up here?” Another commuter yelled.

“Hey calm down everybody!” Theodore said.

“Oh shut the fuck up Theodore!” A commuter barked.

“You think you’re one of them now with that fruity, trailer-park mustache of yours! You’re just a faggot! Everybody knows it! That’s why your wife left you! And I happen to support the LGBTQA+ community because they’re legit about it! Not a closet homosexual like you and your friend there!” A woman said.

“Cuck!” A man yelled.

“Fuck you Theodore! Move the hell out of our neighborhood already! After this display the HOA’s going to kick you out anyway!” A commuter said.

Darrell had enough.

“Hey! All of you are completely out of line! You are supposed to be so cultured and tolerant, being from the city and all! But all I see and here are a bunch of stuffy… entitled assholes! We don’t think like that up here! We might be backcountry and prefer small town politics verse your big city communism, but at least we aren’t fucking posers! At least we belong somewhere and know who we are! And yes. Theodore does belong here! But you all don’t!” Darrell added.

“Oh look, now the town drunk is going to lecture us on politics and culture! Give me a break! Why don’t you go pass out under the bridge again with the rest of the trolls.” A commuter added.

“John I make in a year what you make in ten!” A commuter said.

“If I don’t make it to work by tomorrow, it’s your ass John! I’ll be owning ‘John’s Tree Service!’” A woman mocked.

During this time, John, Anderson, and Alexander all stood steady and silent. They listened to the commuters’ remarks, helpless to defend themselves out of mere shock and stage-fright. John kept his mouth closed and let the insults burn him as they landed, which kept him warm in the frigid snow. He wanted to defend himself, but he was never strong in verbal altercations. His brain became flustered. He never spoke to large crowds of people before and did his best to avoid ever being in or around them. He didn’t know any better, and the more he sat there, helpless, the more he began to feel responsible for their anger. He always believed the road to be his responsibility. He took honor in it. He tended the town of Bushwack like its groundskeeper. He loved nothing more than to call it home. But now he was beginning to understand what his son Darrell was talking about. Is this why Darrell never wanted to plow the roads, and why he’d rather waste his life away?

Theodore looked upon his neighbors the same way he always did. This behavior by them did not surprise him. In fact, he expected nothing less. All the bonds that connected him to them and their ways were snapping apart. He imagined himself selling his house and finally moving out of the neighborhood. But why? Why bother when he could just stay there, and spite them forever. As much as he hated these people, it brought him a little joy to imagine spiting them. He always knew this to be true about himself. These people couldn’t hurt him. They weren’t worth the trouble of moving away. But then again, they also weren’t worth the trouble of staying. To be honest, for the first time in his life, he wanted to take his anger out on them, physically.

“We came here to clear the trees from the road, but here you all are standing in our way! Well can’t you see how contradicting you are! You all gather yourselves together in this self-righteous mob, to speak your minds, and all the while you’re stopping any real progress from ever occurring! All you know how to do is take advantage of other people’s humility and treat them like they owe you something! You people never respected Bushwhack or the people who founded it. It wasn’t easy, you know! It takes a lot of wisdom to live in a place like this, without leaving every day to the city for your comforts and necessities. You don’t believe in fitting in at all! You only believe in changing everything to fit in with your own… ridiculous, hypocritical bullshit!” Theodore said, filled with indignation.

“Look who suddenly has a voice since he grew that ridiculous fucking mustache! I never knew Theodore to have any balls before, and neither did his wife, when she was fucking Chaz in the bathroom during the first neighborhood barbeque!” A commuter said.

“We all knew about the affair Theodore! We watched your pretty ex-wife cross as soon as you’d leave for work!” Another commuter followed up.

“Not as many times as he visited your place though! How does it feel knowing he probably had sex in your bed more times than you did! Do you still sleep in that bed?” Yet another commuter remarked.

Theodore never heard people speaking about his divorce and business before. It was disturbing. He didn’t know any of those things and wondered if they could be true. Then he accepted that they probably were true. He suddenly had a flood of shame rush his body, making his entire face visibly red. He became flustered and took some steps backwards. During this time Alexander and Anderson had gone to their trucks and prepped their chainsaws for the work. They walked back to the front with them firmly in their hands.

“If you want this road cleared so badly, y'all better get out of our ways! Or we’ll be sawing apart more than just trees today!” Alexander yelled with a wild look in his eyes. At the end of his oath he and his brother yanked the start chords on their instruments and the chainsaws came alive with a violent growl. They revved up the mighty little engines until their screams drowned out all other sounds.

The commuters were startled and ran back to their cars. There were five cars parked there. They yelled and cursed amongst themselves, stumbling into each other in their panic. Their car engines started and they sped away past John’s trucks. Darrell cursed and waved his hands at them as they drove by, even hitting their cars with his hands. But John and Theodore backed away, sensing the danger of the cars speeding on the icy roads.

Darrell did not seem to care, or even think about it. He stood amongst the cars, mere feet from them, caught up in a hysteria that had been growing for years.

“Darrell, get back!” John ordered.

But Darrell did not listen, feeling mightier than he was, he continued in his rage waving and shouting. The last car lost its grip on the road. The driver appeared frantic and the car started to slide on the road, unable to control itself. Darrell had his back turned to it, still shouting at the car that just passed and almost hit him.

“Darrell, watch out!” Theodore yelled.

Darrell paused and calmly turned around, as if he sensed it, just as the last car came sliding right into him. A loud “clunk” was heard by all. His body was abruptly pushed underneath the car. Those inside the car did not stop. The driver turned the wheel, desperately trying to regain a grip on the slick road, all the way until it was out of sight. Darrell lay motionless on the snowy road. His brothers shut off the chainsaws and rushed over to him. He was unconscious, lying limp on his side.

“Alright! Pack it up! NOW!” John yelled. When he neared his son he collapsed onto his knees and carefully checked him over. After a moment, the four men gently picked him up and carried him into the back seat of John’s truck. Then they all drove away carefully back into town. Bushwhack did not have a hospital, and there was only one physician in town, Dr. Reese. John had his personal number. An hour after the incident they met Dr. Reese and his nurse, Tracy, at his office and carried him into the back room where there was a hospital bed. It was the closest thing to an emergency room in the whole town. Most people who ended up here were eventually air-lifted to a hospital in Torres. The doctor's office used to be a home, and there were some bedrooms inside for the doctor, nurse, and patients' families to sleep in whenever there was an emergency like this.

After he was examined and determined in stable condition, Dr. Reese came out to the waiting area. “His leg is shattered. He has at least five broken ribs. It appears his internal organs are functioning properly, so that’s a good thing. There's no saying how severe his head injury is yet, but if he doesn’t wake up by tomorrow, we may start assuming… that he is in a coma. It can last days, weeks… or sometimes even months. He is stable now. Tracy will be here monitoring him for the rest of the day. You can stay here overnight if you want. But I’m also tending to my wife at home, she’s fallen mighty ill. I’ll return tomorrow morning. There’s no doubt we’ll have to air-lift him out tomorrow. I already put in the call. I’m very sorry John. Don’t worry about payment right now. We’ll figure something out. We’re always grateful for the work you do around here.” Dr. Reese said.

John nodded his head, still processing all he was hearing. He went to the back room and sat down next to Darrell. The heart monitor was the only sound in the room. Theodore was standing next to the bed and looked down at his friend. Anderson and Alexander stood by the door.

“I’m really sorry dad,” Anderson said.

“It’s not your fault… It's nobody’s fault. Ugh. If Darrell wasn’t such a hot head. If those…people, weren’t so dysfunctional… if the gosh-damned snow hadn’t fallen or the earth wouldn’t have quaked… there’s no point in blaming anybody now... I always knew they were different from us, but I didn’t know how nasty they really were. At least I know we’re not clearing that road. We’ll do as Darrell said, and clear the 77 north, all the way to Lake Gorgandas. If the town folk gotta’ go to the city they can take Interstate 12. It adds a few hours, I hope they understand. But we’ll let those city folk figure out their own problems. All I know is we ain’t gonna help them anymore.”

“I like that idea,” Alexander said.

Later that night Theodore and John went to the townhall meeting. It was a small and intimate gathering. Theodore sat next to Courtney and the two talked between themselves almost the entire night. John told all the local business owners about his decision not to clear the road. Many were disappointed, but they accepted it.

“Are you gonna’ get the law involved?” Mr. Tanner, the pharmacy owner, asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t want to keep dealing with these people. If I drag it out in court, they might end up winning. You know how it is. We don’t even have a single lawyer here in Bushwack. But I might still… if Darrell don’t wake up soon.” John replied.

“Well, you should John! That’s a legitimate hit-and-run! That’s a serious offense!” Don exclaimed, the principal of the school.

Theodore convinced Courtney to share her news with the rest of the group about Greg and her restaurant. Once she garnered the courage to do so, she told them.

“That’s the darndest thing I’d ever heard! The Famous ‘77 is going out of business? What will this town come to?” Mr. Gonzales, the owner of the local grocery market, said.

“It’s Greg, isn’t it! He’s spending all your grandmothers’ money on stupid things like that red sports car. Ah, shoot! Darn him, Courtney! He is a dashingly handsome man, I’ll give him that, but he’s an ass!” Mrs. Conner said, who owned the local gift shop.

Courtney had become less inclined to come to Greg’s defense.

“I’ll eat at the Famous ‘77 five days a week if it means you’ll have the business to stay,” Mr. Williams said, who owned the hardware store.

“Me too!” Said Ms. Lewis, from Bushwack Veterinarian.

“Hell, the whole town will eat nothing but ‘77 burgers for a year, if it means you’ll stay Courtney! We’ve all got something to lose if you go!” Added Mrs. Delaney, who ran the thrift store.

With these words of assurance Courtney was encouraged there was still a chance. “Well, truth be told, there ain’t nothing I’d rather do than keep the shop open. Greg went to the city yesterday to talk to the bank. He’s stuck outside of town. He made it sound like we didn’t have a choice. To be honest…. I just believe every word he tells me. He’s so smart, and he knows much about the world and things, I just feel stupid ever disagreeing with him.” She said, fighting back tears. Mrs. Lewis came and stroked her hand. “But the longer he’s away, the clearer I start to think. He is an ass! I can’t believe I put up with so much of his crap all this time! And he wants to put a…a… a god-damned yogurt shop in place of it!”

“Oh I do like yogurt!” Carter, the local firehouse chief, said.

“Maybe Bushwack does need an ice cream shop here, right next to the ‘77 Burger! Locally owned though! None of that corporate yogurt crap!” Regina pondered aloud, whose husband operated the Bushwack landfill.

“Ted, I don’t believe we’ve ever had you here before. Are you a business owner here in Bushwack?” Mr. Gonzales asked.

“Yes, I’m a computer programmer, I make webpages for small and medium sized businesses. I own ‘Connect Bushwhack’. I built all of your websites; don’t you remember?” Theodore said.

They all looked at him curiously, squinting their eyes to try and remember.

“Theodore? Well yeah, that is you, isn’t it? I don’t think any of us recognized you. I’ve been trying to figure out who you was all this time!” Mrs. Conner asked.

“You live up there with those commuters, don’t you, in that ritzy new neighborhood ‘jus got built, right?” Mr. Williams asked.

“Yes. I do. For a few years now. And they all hate me. And I hate them. I don’t think I’ll be living there much longer.” Theodore said.

“Well with that road being blocked off the way it is, you might not have any neighbors left to hate! If they can’t get to work, they’re likely to move out altogether.” Mrs. Lewis said.

“They’re so stubborn. They won’t leave from only missing a couple days of work. No, they’re too proud to let it go that easily. Plus, most of them can work from home.” Theodore said.

“With what electricity? I heard they don’t allow generators up there. All they got are those solar batteries to back them up. There’s no saying how long this weather will keep like this. If you ask me, they’re up shit creek without a paddle.” Remarked Bill, the Pastor of the local church.

“It won’t be a couple days, ‘neither. It could be a month ‘fore all that mess gets cleared away.” John commented.

“Is it really that bad, John?” Don asked. John nodded.

“I’ve been thinking about it. And the first thing they’re going to have to do is call up County Affairs. Now, Bushwack is in Piner County. Ten miles out of town, on the 77, and it turns into Oak County. There’s no saying how many trees have fallen across on that side. So now it’s a two-county affair. Piner County will contract this job out to one of two private companies. Forest Guards tree service, and my own company. Now I know Jim Powers of Forest Guards, and I know for a fact he won’t work with Piner County since they undercut him a few years ago for a job he split with my boys. He thought his 10 men were getting a fair share of a deal, but when they cut it directly in half, me and my three boys on one half, and he and his team on the other, he about had it. And I think it’s safe to assume that ‘quake shook down more trees than just the ones on highway 77. Jim Powers’s will have enough work on his hands as it is. So yeah, it’s gonna’ be a while before those trees get cleaned up. Unless those commuters do it themselves. And we all know that ain’t gonna happen.” John said.

“So you’re really gonna let those trees sit there, out of spite?” Mr. Rosales said, who owned the septic-tank company.

“Hell yeah I am. It might actually be the only way we get rid of those commuters, once and for all.” John replied. “They ain’t like regular city folk, like the tourists. This is a mean batch we got up here. I can’t understand what’s got into them.”

There was silence as everybody pondered what that meant.

When the meeting was adjourned Theodore and Courtney agreed to meet the next morning at the Famous ‘77 for breakfast. When he got home he found his house spray painted and defaced. The word “Cuck” was written largely across his garage door in black spray paint. He watched it disappear as the garage door opened for his jeep to park inside. He went in by flashlight and found the place still a mess from the earthquake. There was nothing he wanted to do less than start to clean it all up. He went into his bathroom and saw himself for the first time since the previous night. In the dim light he saw his mustache. He smiled remembering the night before with Darrell. He looked for his shaving cream and razor. He was going to finish the job and finally shave it off. But then he looked at his face again. Why shave it? Courtney didn’t seem to mind it. She even said she liked it! And now everybody in town already knew him as the man with the mustache. He could always shave it later, but it had somehow become part of his destiny, he believed.

Just as John had predicted, when the commuters from Bushwhack complained about the trees to County Affairs, they immediately reached out to John’s Tree Service, who declined the job, but accepted another offer they had for him, to clear the trees and snow on the other side of the freeway, up toward Lake Gorgandas. Forest Guards also declined the job, already having an offer in Oak County. So, County Affairs were left looking for another company. The only reply they got was an offer to start the job in five weeks and needing another 5 weeks to complete the job!

As John predicted, when it was learned how long it would take to clear the highway to the city, many of the commuters put their homes up for sale and moved out, bitterly waiting for John’s Tree Service to pave the way up to the Interstate 12. But once it was clear it happened almost all overnight. Many of the commuters were disgusted with it all and felt they had more to lose if they stayed. John, his sons, and many locals all ended up buying homes in that neighborhood at a great deal and became Theodores new neighbors. A few commuters decided to stay, who had always wanted to acclimate into Bushwack culture. They also heard about the mad, chainsaw wielding maniacs who drove out all their snobby neighbors, and now both loved and feared John and his sons.

Darrell was airlifted the next afternoon to a hospital in Torres. After a couple of days he awoke from his coma. He stayed at the hospital for a few days after, and Theodore was there to pick him up when he was released. Darrell was in a wheelchair for a month and stayed with Theodore, who took care of him and taught him about running a business. By the time he was back on his feet Darrell had given up day drinking and was eager to start his career cutting hair. With Theodore’s help, he opened his barbershop right next to Connect Bushwhack. It was called, D’s Fresh Cuts.

Courtney received news from the Oak County Sheriff department that her husband Greg had died during the earthquake. His red convertible was found crushed beneath a realty billboard. There was a woman in the car with him, who had died also. Courtney and Theodore became romantic shortly after. They moved into Courtney’s house, which to Theodores’s surprise was nothing short of a mansion tucked away in the woods.

“I would have never guessed a house this big existed in Bushwhack,” Theodore said in amazement.

“My Grandparents started it, and my parents finished it. They live here too, when they’re not at their other home in Florida. Which is pretty much always. It’s not our only house, either. We have a vacation home at the coast, and wait until you see our boat. Do you know how to sail, Ted?” Courtney asked.

Many things changed in Bushwhack. The community grew closer, and the locals “anti-social” behavior began to warm up to the commuters and tourists. A new wave of commuters moved in, but with a warmer welcome from the locals than before. New homes were built throughout the town, and even more new neighborhoods, which were less like the suburbs of Torres and truer to Bushwack’s culture. The town gradually grew with new and thriving businesses, but keeping to the nature of the small-town feel, the businesses all remained locally owned and operated. Courtney and Theodore opened an ice-cream shop next to the 77’ burger. It was called ‘The ‘77 Creamery.” Its logo was a vanilla ice-cream cone driving a red sports-car. Theodore and Courtney grew old together, traveling the world but always coming back to their home in Bushwack. They had four children together and decades later they became grandparents. Their love for each other only became stronger over the years, even as the hairs of Theodores mustache turned white.