Out of Play

He sounds concerned when he says, “I’m not trying to be a jerk. We all party. Hell, Chase likes to have a good time almost as much as you, but it’s different. None of us end up in the hospital. We make meetings and don’t get lost in other countries. You scared us, man. If Marya

Yeah, Marya

“That’s because she’s a pill-popping groupie! She wants in your pants because she wants your money and because—”

I don’t know what else he says because I hang up the phone. Screw him. Screw all of them. They don’t know what they’re talking about. Patting my pockets, I look for my cigarettes before I remember I’m out. I shake my hands, hoping it will make the trembling stop. This time, when I pick up my phone, I call Marya

“Hey, Bishop.”

“Did you send it?”

She giggles. “Yep.”

I fall back, not even realizing I’d sat up, already feeling a little better.

…

“I got you a laptop.” Gary walks in front of me and glances over his shoulder.

I suck in a breath of cold air. “You did?”

Gary nods. “It might come in handy. You never know.”

We’re silent for a few minutes as we keep walking. Thank you, tell him thank you. I tense a little as a car passes us. With the snow piled next to the road, and no shoulder, there isn’t a lot of room for walking.

Gary shoves his hands tighter in his pockets. “Do you like working on the car with Gramps?”

“Obviously, man. You know I like cars.”

He glances at me before his gaze shifts back to the icy road. “I did? Hate to break it to you, Bishop, but I didn’t. I’ve never even heard you talk about cars until we got here.”

That’s stupid. Or maybe I just didn’t talk about them with him. “I have a Ranchero at home. I plan to fix her up. I’m thinking I’ll get started if you guys ever let my ass out of here.”

That remark earns me a smile, but I know Gary won’t offer to let me out early. “When I was in college, things were crazy busy. I was working with Don some of the time and you know how much of a slave driver he is. Kind of like with our walks, though, I set out a certain amount of time where I could just do what I wanted—something I loved. Not work, not school, just something that was happy-Gary time.”

Here we go again. With my top lip, I play with my piercing before answering. “That’s not always easy to do on the road.”

We take a few steps in silence, and I like it when this happens. Like he’s actually listening to what I’m saying and taking it in instead of jumping in with some random slogan to help me feel better. “If it’s important, you find time. If you don’t look out for yourself, Bishop, no one else will. I’m not stupid. I know you can’t work on a car on the road, but you can read up on them. Make plans for what you want to work on next. Or cars can be your home thing and you can find something else—something good for you that gives you that same feeling to do on the road.”

Without thinking, I nod. That kind of makes sense. There have been so many times I thought I would go crazy on a plane or in a hotel room. It might be kind of cool to have something pla

At some point, Gary must have slowed down or I sped up because we’re walking together now. “Troy is a pla

Gary pauses, leaving this conversation similar to the one he did about trees. “What keeps you grounded, Bishop Riley?”

I don’t know.

…

Schedules. I have one of those, too. A pill schedule and one with Gramps.

For the fifth morning in a row, I check with Gramps to see if I got any mail. I’ve been holding out, keeping my pills to only take every few days, and it’s working okay. Still, when he tells me no, it freaks me out a little. Mail shouldn’t take this long.

Like every other day, we get to work on the Corvette. He calls me “Rookie” all the time, which I would have thought would be a

I hardly see Pe

Sometimes, Gramps and I are quiet almost the whole day. Other times, he tells me stories about when he was younger, about wars, traveling, and even girls. Gramps likes to talk about girls, which I think is pretty cool. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything and even though I’m quiet most of the time, I have a feeling I could tell him anything.

I kind of think he might know everything already.

Once in a while, he’ll act a little strange, mumbling about weird stuff or something, but the guy is old as dirt. I figure that’s got to be normal. I’d be insane right now if it wasn’t for him and this car, I know that. Twice Gary has taken a break from working and reading to come out and watch us. He gets a kick out of Gramps, and Gramps definitely knows Gary is a little loony. Okay, maybe not loony, but mushy as hell. He got three calls from Troy the other day, and he’d get all smiley each time. Every time Gary turned his back, Gramps would put his finger to his temple, spin it in a circle, and mouth “crazy” at me.

He’s awesome.

The nights are killing me, though. It’s almost like I’m transported back to the stage. Or maybe not even there, but an empty room where I can still hear the people calling for me.

This town is enough to drive anyone crazy. It gets dark too early. I’m stuck inside the cabin with nothing but Gary, two TV cha

After hours of lying awake in the dark, I get up and turn on my laptop and look up the first thing that pops into my mind. It doesn’t take me long to find a couple online car magazine subscriptions to buy. Now what? So, I pull up an empty document to type but my fingers struggle on the keys, a little of the trembling coming back.

I slam the laptop closed and fall back against the couch. What the fuck kind of schedule could I make for myself anyway?

If Marya

…

It’s late one night when I notice Pe

“Hey.” I walk up the stairs. She has her head leaned back, resting on the deck.

Pe

“Nah.”

We’re both quiet for a minute, her staring at the back of her eyelids and me staring at her. There has to have been a reason for me to come out here, only I can’t think of it right now. “So…the mail? I have a package coming. How long does it usually take?”

Finally, she opens her eyes and turns her head a little. “Depends. Priority or regular mail?”