Chapter 8

Roll me a fatty

"You've gotten out of practice if you're passing this over here to me," River commented as Haven shoved the tray of bud and rolling papers his way, fingers on his free hand tapping a nervous beat against the seam of his jeans.

"No shit," Haven growled, shooting him the bird. "Now roll me a fatty, will ya, I need to stop jumping every time someone drives over the manhole cover outside and makes it rattle."

"I have been complaining about the noise that thing makes for the past two months and now it's to the point where when I raise my hand at the Town Hall meeting, someone instantly asks if it's about the racket from the cover and if so to put my hand back down. If they tell me one more time that it's on the scheduled repairs list, I will personally go out there with the tow truck, attach the hook to the handle, and drag that fuckin' thing so far out of town they'll never find it."

"And do so much damage to the street in the process that your property taxes will be sky high the next time you go to pay them," Haven couldn't resist pointing out.

In his head, he was picturing the incident from Cars , when Lightning McQueen fucked up the main street of Radiator Springs and was forced to pull the paver full of hot asphalt over the mess he'd made until he'd fixed it.

"Our," River said, shocking him out of the memory of a most beloved movie.

Even as a teenager, he'd popped it and the sequels in from time to time, always when Archer couldn't give him shit about still watching kid's movies. He'd have loved to sprawl on his bed and watch them now, since sleeping still wasn't the easiest for him. It was too quiet. There was never silence in prison, even after lights out. Especially after lights out. Snoring, farting, cussing, the occasional whispered threat, there were times when the nights were worse than the noise and chaos of the days, maybe because of the press of darkness around them.

"Just tell me what my share is when the time comes," Haven muttered as he watched his brother roll.

"As long as you promise to start taking an interest in more than just the cars," River remarked, his pointed tone a direct contrast to his bright, fun-loving personality.

Sounded like he was the older brother there for a second.

A flash of regret hit at the way he'd abandoned River to the assholes and idiots who'd loved to pick on him. Another reason to hate his choices. Another mistake he couldn't take back. He had to remember to be more careful and not get snarly with the cops like he'd done with the detective earlier in the day. His nerves were still fucked from that, and it was never far from his thoughts. Even a second visit from Maddox hadn't settled him down all the way, which was why he hadn't been able to roll for shit when River had given him the tray.

"Let me get comfortable just being there and I promise I'll be ready to toss in my two cents the next time we have a shop meeting," Haven remarked after a span of silence stretched between them.

It was the least he could do and with the hours he wasn't sleeping, he'd have plenty of time to jot things down in his notebook, right under the Wi-Fi password. He really needed to ask if River had any streaming services, though he hadn't wanted to before he'd had money to contribute to the bill. It was enough that River had furnished a room for him and brought over all his stuff from his old bedroom at their parents' house.

That they'd updated all the equipment in Pops' old shop was something he doubted he'd ever be able to repay them for, but it was awesome to be able to hook something up to the proper diagnostics and get the codes he needed in order to solve the problem.

"I'm going to hold you to it," River remarked as he finished rolling and passed it over for Haven to spark.

Rather than acknowledging, Haven looked him dead in the eyes. "Did you know Archer was in Acacia City?"

Haven didn't even pause, he just nodded and muttered, "Yeah."

"For how long?"

Now his brother was getting antsy and drawing circles in the green dust on the tray. "How long did I know, or how long was he there?"

"I know how long he was there, or at least, I know how long he worked for Maddox, five years, but when did you know about it?"

"When Mom and Pop passed away," River admitted. "He came to the funeral with Mr. Balfour and after that we started hearing from him regularly. They've come for the last two Thanksgivings and Arch came and ran the shop for me when Freddie Ferret and I went to Tahiti."

Haven choked on smoke and took a moment to catch his breath before requesting answers. "Who the fuck is Freddie Ferret and please don't tell me you took an actual ferret on a tropical vacation? I need a few weeks to settle in before I can properly start worrying about you."

"Freddie Ferret was not an actual ferret but how cool would that be? We could have color coordinated harnesses and matching outfits for when we went for walks."

"I..umm…ipp, umm, err…hold up." Haven said, feeling his brain start to hurt despite the smoke coiling through it. "Do they even make clothing for ferrets?"

"I bet they do," River said, pausing his efforts to separate a bud to snatch up his phone and tap away on the screen. "They make clothing for everything else. They even make neckties and top hats for pet snakes."

"Neck…bullshit," Haven said. "I cry bullshit on that one!"

"Oh really?" River replied, fingers flying over the screen.

The next thing Haven knew, River had turned the phone around and Haven found himself staring at the image of a gold and black snake with a white underbelly, the stripes across its face making it look like it was wearing a robber's eye mask, which wasn't even the craziest part about the whole thing. That distinction went to the black top hat perched on the snake's head and the red and white striped tie around its neck. The fact that it was lounging half sprawled on a book rounded out the surreal image and left him narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"That shit's fake!" Haven declared. "It's…it's that AI shit where someone fed a bunch of images into the computer and then the program compiled and spit that picture out.

"Nope," River said, nearly landing in his lap as he hopped into the wide chair beside him.

Haven scooched over so they could fit as comfortably as they had the last time they'd sat that way. From there his brother proceeded to show him several other snakes, in different colors and combinations of little outfits, until Haven finally threw up his hands, conceded defeat, and went back to smoking the seriously mellow blunt his brother had rolled for him.

"I bet we could set up a whole ferret habitat and playground along the wall in front of the windows," River suggested. "We can connect it with some of those colorful, spiraling tubes, and set up a few hammocks for him to lounge in. Ohhh, maybe we should both get one, then they'd have someone to chill with when we were downstairs working. Do you think they have those balls for them, like the kind you can put a hamster in and let them run all over the floor?"

"If they do and we get them, I hope broken legs and busted asses are covered under the shop's insurance plan or we'll owe a fortune in hospital bills to go along with the skyrocketing property taxes after your manhole cover stunt."

River raised an eyebrow at him, and Haven could see him trying think up the perfect argument only to come up blank. "Okay, that could suck, especially when I'm saving up to go back to Tahiti this spring, without Ferret Faced Freddie tagging along."

Haven tapped the tip of his nose with his index finger, trying to work out just which pressing question he wanted to ask first.

"Friend or boyfriend?" was what he finally went with.

"Weasel in hot guy's clothing," River admitted.

"Still doesn't answer the question."

"I thought we were friends. We decided to go away together to explore the possibility of dating, but the only thing Freddy explored was every thirsty fuckboy who threw himself across his path."

"What were you doing trying to date a guy who looked like a ferret in the first place?" Haven blurted, the cartoonish imagine taking root in Haven's head certainly not one he'd want to date.

"'Cause being a brightly adorned queer kid in a small town primarily full of normies makes it difficult to find someone to do more than hook up with," River admitted. "There's plenty of us around, don't get me wrong, but I can't tell you how many variations of I like you but it's really hard to date you when you stand out like that I've heard from the people I've gone out with. Freddie Ferret was as colorful as I was and even more opinionated, if you can believe that."

"I can't," Haven admitted. "I'd almost need a demonstration. Does he live in town? If so, I think I need to get a look at this guy, if only to see how closely he resembles a weasel."

"Extraordinarily so," River said. "If they were holding auditions for Ferrets the Musical or Ferrets on Ice , he'd be cast in the lead role of head ferret."

"I'm gonna dream of ferrets now, thank you very much. I just want you to know that all I am going to see when I close my eyes is a ferret twirling around on one skate. I hope you're proud of yourself for that," Haven said. "The image is already gliding around in the back of my head. There is a tan and brown ferret in a full-on figure skating costume bathed in blue spotlights spinning in circles with a top hat on his head."

River froze with the blunt halfway to his lips. "Could you imagine a swirling slick of snow as the base and the ferret at the end with his top hat designed to hold cone incense?

Now Haven paused, because it would be amazing if River could craft it from the polymer clay he loved to work with. "Think you can make one into a pipe too, with the metal on the inside and your clay on the outside to form the image?"

"I mean…it's not the most off the wall thing I've ever done," River muttered, looking thoughtful now.

How many times had they problem solved like this? As children they'd come up with some amazingly cool cardboard boats, using duct tape and floor sealant to try and waterproof them and driving their old man crazy. He'd torn up half the kitchen and the utility closet looking for all the tape he'd bought. By the time they were teenagers, it was bullies and dating and how the hell to keep the ‘rents from finding out about the latest test they'd put off studying for.

To be fair, it wouldn't have landed them in that much hot water to be caught procrastinating, but by the time Haven had gotten sent away, the few classes he had been passing were through less than honest methods. He'd been more than ready for his birthday to roll around, so he'd be old enough to drop out. Their folks hadn't been on the whole you have to stay in school until you graduate trend , they were more concerned about encouraging the things he and his siblings had been passionate about.

And not having the authorities show up harassing them about why they weren't sending their kids to school.

As long as they weren't lying around doing nothing all the time or causing a disruption to the gentle chaos that was their active home, they were good to follow whatever path captured their attention. Unfortunately, getting called up to the school several times a quarter, sometimes more than once in the same week, was considered a disruption, as was the threat the school had made to get the state involved if Haven and his siblings didn't start showing up on a consistent basis.

Of course, that little decree had just led to his becoming a master in ditchology, a practice in which he'd created a rotating schedule of classes to skip so his randomly spaced absences didn't raise red flags and create bigger issues.

Haven felt something nudge his knee and glanced over to see River watching him with a little grin.

"You fell off the planet," River declared.

"Was thinking about how many times we sat bullshitting and one or both of us wound up with a terrifyingly amazing idea," Haven admitted.

River snorted at that and shook his head. "We could have done a little less in the way of terrifying."

"Now you sound just like Pops."

"He only said it to us a hundred times."

Leaning back in the chair, Haven got as comfortable as he could while Haven lounged against his shoulder. "At least."

A silence only broken by the soft hiss of paper on every inhale descended over them while the Pixies' song Where is My Mind played low in the background.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here when the folks passed," Haven said once he was stoned enough that tears wouldn't leak from the corners of his eyes just thinking about them lying in that double casket.

"I know. You don't have to keep saying it," River said as he squished him with a floppy hug that led to River winding up sprawled across him. "I believe you and I forgave you years ago. Just promise that one day you'll tell me what really happened to get you sent away, ‘cause I know it wasn't what you admitted to."

"Riv…"

"No," River interrupted, pulling away so he could look down into Haven's eyes. "I'm tired of you insisting that I accept it when I know it's bullshit. You need to tell me who the fuck you took the rap for because if they're still around, they'll have to drive over the mountain for whatever the fuck they need because they won't be able to purchase so much as a drop of gas when Meadow gets wind of it."

"Exactly how do you expect them to go over the mountain for anything if they don't have the gas to get there?" Haven pointed out, snickering when River narrowed his eyes and waved a hand between them as if to clear away the question.

"That's their problem," River declared. "Now tell me who the fuck it was!"

"It was me, bro, I'm sorry. I fucked up."

"And you are still a bad liar, but that's not the point right now, I want the truth."

"You have the truth."

River glared and Haven squirmed like that first night when Maddox had been staring at him across the table and he'd been slowly dissecting his sandwich until Maddox had dragged it away from him, reassembled it, then slid it back in front of him with a stern look Haven took to mean eat it the right way .

He had absolutely, one hundred percent, complied and finished every bite, which had earned him a chocolate-peanut butter cupcake that had tasted like a sweetly fluffy bit of heaven. And if he'd sat there licking chocolate from his fingers like he was three, oh fuckin' well, it was too good not to lap up every trace.

"No, I don't, but I will, eventually. Mark my words, I will find out who got you snatched away from us. I just hope they were worth it."

Haven sighed, thinking back to everything he'd learned since coming face to face with Archer.

Six miles.

Six motherfuckin' miles.

That's all the distance that had separated his big brother from him.

And in all the years he'd been there, Archer had never once, not once, driven the short stretch of road to come see him. Which just left Haven feeling like a foolishly stupid sonofabitch.