Chapter 4

4

J.J. POST

Several months later…

"All right, kiddo," Mr. Murray was nodding and pointing at the onslaught of tagged animals in the refrigerator. "Nothing like jumping into the deep-end, eh? I've tried to take it easy on you the last week or so, but hunting season is upon us, and I need some younger muscle to help with the load. Let me show you the first few steps, and we can tackle this together."

J.J. jerked his oiled leather apron over his head and wrapped it around his waist, already smelling the salty scent combined with animal musk in the air as he stared in disbelief at the sheer volume of carcasses before them both.

"I know it's a little late to ask, but you aren't squeamish – are you?"

"No, sir."

"Back in my day, when I first started working for my family, it wasn't much different. I remember yacking up my breakfast for a few days until I toughened up a little bit, so don't be surprised if you do the same. Wooo, my grandpa laughed and laughed at me."

"Really?"

"Yup. Became a vegetarian for about four years too…"

J.J.'s eyes nearly popped out of his head at the revelation casually tossed in his direction as he looked around the room once more – and swallowed the faint taste of bile in his mouth as Mr. Murray used a massive hook to drag the first animal toward the doorway. Hunters fieldstripped the animals in the field, but there was no hiding the fact that this was going to be a massive amount of work.

"Let's go," the man said openly, waving him forward. "Don't think, just do and listen. Sometimes, the men take the horns, but other times, they leave it for us. This order, he wants the rack mounted, so grab the saw, and let's get started."

"I'll be right back," J.J. whispered, feeling his breakfast coming up as he turned and made a beeline for the bathroom. Five minutes later, he walked back into the rear of the butcher shop and saw Mr. Murray's knowing smile.

"Feel better?"

"Yes."

"It's downhill from here, kiddo. You'll be fine. Let's drag this beast onto the table. I've already got the meat grinder mounted because they want as much ground meat as possible this year with a few roasts. We'll part this one out, remove the sinew, and any stray hairs. You want to use anything that is considered tougher parts of the animal, the neck, the shank, and so on. Watch me, and then you can take over. "

"I'm fine," he said hoarsely, realizing that this was a part of his life now.

"We're going to use everything – the cold fat, the heart, the stomach lining and…"

"Don't tell me," J.J. grimaced. "I like to eat the stuff; let's just get to work."

"You got it, kiddo."

Eight hours later, J.J. had never been so horribly exhausted. He had cut, wrapped, processed, and tied so many steaks, roasts, packaged ground meat, made summer sausage, and so on. It was grueling work that was done behind the scenes. He had no clue how much spice, cheese, additives, and extras Mr. Murray went through. It wasn't a ‘dash of oregano' for the recipe – it was ‘add one container and mix well. They weren't dealing with a half-pound of meat; it was pounds .

As they were processing the animals, more were being dropped off. Mr. Murray was taking orders, giving prices, and quoting approximate time frames that seemed crazy quick considering how many they still had to go through – and he understood why Mr. Murray needed an apprentice.

This wasn't as simple as visiting the grocery store. He was the grocery store for some families. They would eat on what he prepared for months at a time, which meant that things had to slow down at some point. Today had been eye-opening as he discovered how the seasons changing applied to him. There would be smoking of salmon after the fishing season, duck hunting, quail and pheasant, before they went through this nightmarish ‘cash-cow' of carcasses… literally.

It was staggering to see how much money was coming into the butcher shop – and they had barely touched on the taxidermy portion so far. The crazy thing was that people supplied the meat, and he charged them to clean it up and make it look like what you found at the supermarket. They paid hundreds to get their meat neatly cut, cleaned, and processed, tied into neat little brown paper packages to be tossed in the freezer – and Mr. Murray had a relationship with each of them, introducing him proudly, almost like he was a son.

Heading home, J.J. looked down to see that his sneakers were covered in gore, and so were the lower leg of his jeans. Dialing his mother, who had a sensitive stomach, he realized that he was truly becoming his own man, his own person, who needed some space – and how would Chloe react to this new line of work? Would she be disgusted?

"Mom? Hey, it's me…"

"What's wrong, sweetie? Did your truck break down or…"

"Can you open the back door for me – and go wait in the living room?"

"Why? Are you hurt or…"

"Mom, trust me on this one. I need a shower before I enter the house and since that isn't going to happen," he chuckled and let her draw her own conclusions from his words.

"Ohhh. Yup. I'm on it. How far are you from the house?"

"About three minutes."

"Sounds good."

Sure enough, he was pulling up a few minutes later and saw his mother opening the back door to the house and unlocking the screen. She waved at him in the truck, where he remained in the driver's seat until she was out of sight, and then he got out, wincing as his shoes made a weird squishing sound from the water hose used to wash down the floors and tables at the end of the day.

I'm learning, he mused silently, walking inside and darting toward the bathroom so he could shower.

A few hours later, J.J. called Chloe. He was lying in bed, completely exhausted, and knew it was late there. Hoping he didn't wake her, he almost hung up the phone but then heard her pick up.

"Hello?"

"Hey," he began quietly. "How's it going?"

"Overwhelmed," Chloe admitted, sighing heavily. "I've never done so much studying in my life, nor felt like a human centrifuge. I'm pretty sure my toenails wanted to throw up today after the second spin."

"I bet," he chuckled softly. "Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I wanted to hear your voice. Why aren't you?"

"Same reason."

"How was it today with Mr. Murray?"

"Disgusting – and enlightening."

"Both?"

"Oh yeah," he laughed again. "I will never look at sausage the same…"

"Don't tell me. I like sausage."

"Right?" he smiled and then hesitated. "Chloe, it's not a glamorous job, and I was covered in filth when I got home this evening. In fact, it was so bad I told my mom to unlock the back door and clear a path to the bathroom. Is something like this going to bother you? I looked like Hannibal Lechter. "

"As long as you are calling me ‘Chloe' and not ‘Clarice' – we're fine," she laughed easily, and he let out his breath.

"And I'm thinking of finding a place to rent up here."

"Then I better get orders to Juneau," she replied quietly.

"Are you disappointed?"

"Never. I'm just tired of our paths not intersecting, so I'm going to make a right turn and head in your direction."

"I miss you so much."

"I miss you too."

"It's hard to believe we've come this far, and things still seem so distant."

"Oh, I know. It's like we ‘ weren't' – and suddenly, now we ‘ are.' The key thing is I don't ever want to go back to the ‘ weren't' status where we were stuck for the longest time. I don't care if this is not what people expect or think is proper. I found my best friend, and I'm lucky enough to be crazy about him."

"I feel the same, Chloe."

"Then find us a place to call home, Hannibal," she whispered tenderly, making him chuckle nervously at the obviously intended endearment. "And prepare yourself because I'm headed in your direction."

"I can't wait."

Seven months later, J.J. was up to his eyeballs in salmon, roe, and salt when his cell phone rang. He'd put it on the counter nearby because he knew Chloe was getting orders this week. He held his breath every day – and not because of the influx of fish.

Peering at his phone, he hurriedly wiped the slurry of whatever onto his apron and answered the phone, putting it on his shoulder and wincing as he got a taste of ‘Alaskan Sushi' – trying not to gag.

"Chloe?"

"Juneau," she breathed before letting out a wildly happy scream nearly piercing his eardrum. "I GOT JUNEAU, J.J.!"

"Oh my gosh! Are you kidding? Tell me you aren't kidding! You're serious? You're coming here?"

"I'm serious as a heart attack. Are you free Saturday night, Mr. Post?"

"I'm free any night you ever decide to ask me out."

"Well, I'm asking you out now, Hannibal."

"Oh gosh," he chuckled tearfully. "Don't call me that. Do you want me to pick you up at the base, or should I…"

"Pick me up," she interrupted excitedly. "I'm dropping my rucksack in my room and will be ready to go the moment you arrive. Just call me when you get out of work, and I'll be ready."

"How about you call me the second you get settled, and I'll be there."

"Deal."

"Deal," he parroted in excitement. "I cannot wait to see you."

"Oh my goodness, J.J. – I cannot wait to be seen, hon."

Swallowing at the affection in her voice, he hesitated, feeling himself get emotional at the understanding that all of their waiting, their lives running opposite of each other, all of it was coming to an end – and they were finally getting their chance.

"I'll see you soon."

Hanging up the phone, J.J.'s hands were trembling at the overwhelming relief tearing through him. He was almost in tears, realizing that he wanted to really impress her, make her feel welcome and had so much to do.

"Is everything okay?" Mr. Murray asked quietly, looking at him with a worried expression. "Your girl got assigned to the base here, right?"

"She'll be here Saturday."

"That's good, right?"

"That's the best news I've ever gotten," he admitted openly, feeling joy course through his veins – as well as worry.

There was so much to do, and he was still setting up a home slowly. He moved in three weeks ago and is still painting the walls. Buying a house wasn't on his radar, especially without Chloe's say. When the little two-bedroom house came up for sale just down the street, he had spotted the sign on his way to see an apartment. The payment would be almost the same – and he made a U-turn in his life once more.

He signed the papers, shocking his parents.

This time, he wanted them to know how serious he was about this coming change to his life once more. He'd done as they asked, put Chloe's career first, and gave everyone their moments and the space they needed between the two of them. That time was over now - and this feeling growing inside him was more powerful than he ever realized. Holding back the love he felt for her was impossible.

Texting his parents, he smiled.

Chloe is being stationed here. Can we talk over dinner?