Free 8-Track by L.J.Lahage Page A

to the hall and went inside, the foul stench of cigarette smoke making him sneeze. 
    “God bless you,” said an older man wearing glasses, he was sitting on a chair, hunched over reading the
Boston Globe.
    “Thanks,” Bill replied.
    “Are you Bill Powers,” the person asked sitting up, extending his arm.
    “Yes,” Bill replied shaking the man’s hand.
    “Good to finally meet you. Name’s Buddy, friends call me Bud. I knew your dad years back, how’s Ben doing?”
    “He’s good, slowing down a bit, but healthy.”
    “Good to hear that, you’ll have to tell him I said hello.”
    “I will,” Bill replied.
    “All your paperwork got sent up from Middletown, so you’re good to go for work. Things are slow right now, typical with the summer coming. When September comes a knocking, things will pick back up. Just check the board regularly for posts.” Bud removed his glasses to rub his eyes. “Everybody just kinda comes and goes here, I leave the doors unlocked so you’re free to come and go as you please. There’s a kitchen down back, look around and help yourself. Good to meet you and please say hi to your father for me.”
    Bill nodded. “All right then, thanks.”
    The hall was L-shaped, plastic circular tables and folding metal chairs were scattered throughout. Bill walked around them to find The Price Is Right running on a twelve inch black and white Zenith TV in the kitchen. The air conditioning by the back door kicked in, giving him goose bumps. Noticing a fresh box of donuts on the counter, he took a moment to look over the choices before settling on a coconut sprinkle. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and watched the tube. A warm breeze blew in with the two men entering through the back door, they sat down at one of the tables.
    “Who owns the Lincoln outside?” Bill asked before biting into his donut.
    “It’s mine,” said the man removing a cigarette from the front pocket of his blue denim vest. He appeared to be in his late forties, wore a goatee, and long dark hair pulled back neatly into a ponytail.
    “Far out looking car,” Bill sipped his coffee.
    “Thanks,” he replied pulling out a Zippo from his jeans. Bill noticed how the man lit his cigarette, he flipped the silver lid and ran the thumbwheel over his thigh before bringing it up in one rapid motion. Finishing his donut Bill picked up his coffee and walked over.
    “My name’s Bill Powers.”
    The man smoking the cigarette reached out to shake Bill’s hand. It took Bill a moment to make out the tattoo on his right arm. Running from his wrist to just below his elbow was a cluster of finely drawn human skulls, maybe fifty or more. They were drawn in various sizes, from different angles, each one perfectly detailing the individual bones in fine black ink.
    “Names Eli, you’re the new guy right?”
    “Yep, just got up here on Friday,” Bill replied shaking his hand. The other man was broad and very muscular. He extended his thick veiny arm. Bill shook his hand which looked more like a pitcher’s mitt. 
    “Sig,” he said with a firm shake. 
    “Sit down man,” Eli said taking a drag off his cigarette. Bill threw his leg over the chair and sat down.
    “Why’d ya move to New Hampshire, why not some place warm like Florida?” Sig asked sitting back.
    “I happen to be fond of this state. Growing up I spent my summers here, thought it would be a good change.”
    Both men laughed, Eli took a long drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out. He ran his thumb and index finger down the sides of his close cut goatee before replying.
    “Good change huh, it’s fucking quiet up here man,” he said with a grin.
    Bill took a sip of his coffee and shrugged before speaking. “It’s quiet in Rhode Island as well.” 
    “You got any family up here?” Sig asked with his thick eyebrows raised. Bill shook his head.
    “No, it’s just me.” 
    “Married?” Eli asked.
    “I was. She died.”
    “Sorry,” both men