Chase had been working almost around the clock for the last week. It wasn't very fair for Voo, he knew. These days she rarely saw him but there wasn't much he could do about it except quit his job. She always could have stepped outside their RV and met and talked with some of the members there, but she seemed... hesitant. Maybe she knew and felt that he was hesitant, too. He didn't like the idea of seeing an 80 year-old recluse in his sister who hadn't even become twenty. He wanted her happy. He wanted her outgoing and to have a lot of friends and maybe a boyfriend that made her smile more than not. Voo never seemed much interested in those things.
He was tip toeing around the subject of "new friends" with her always.
The factory at the outskirts of RhyDin was a forty minute bus ride in the morning. He walked to the stop, sat on the bench and waited. Most of the time he jammed the speakers that lead to his phone in his ears and listened to music. If it was a tough day he flipped through old pictures. He didn't know why he did that. Seemed like at times he needed something to make him feel better that he indulged in the thing that would make him feel worse. Pictures of old friends who were calling less and less. Images of past girlfriends who might have still been sweet on him. Maybe they could have worked things out or at least had a little bit more fun until they figured out they couldn't.
A massive order from out of town prompted him to work fourteen hour shifts. He basically picked up food on the way home and left it in the fridge with a note in sharpie that said "Eat This Voo" on the styrofoam lid. Either she was doing that, or pretending to. Hell, maybe she was feeding the stray cats in the neighborhood he had tried to warn her off of with it. She had a habit of helping out and connecting to the non-people.
Chase, of course, was unaware of her wanderings. Voodoo had spent so much time in the RV and it had been like pulling teeth to get her to get the job. Now that she had one? There was something in life other than him getting her out of the house and around people. He didn't like the idea of her sitting "alone" all the time.
Work left him tired. They poured molten steel into molds and once the times cooled they shipped the finished products off in wooden crates stuffed with padding. It left him reeking of sweat, the outline of his welding goggles still drawn dimly on his skin even when he got home later with food. He put up the food when he got home and mumbled something, checking for signs of life in the RV. Then Chase showered and slept. Rinse and repeat.
Before he left for work that morning he left her a note saying, "The job is only going to be two more weeks and after that I get a week off. We'll take that cooking class then."
He was tip toeing around the subject of "new friends" with her always.
The factory at the outskirts of RhyDin was a forty minute bus ride in the morning. He walked to the stop, sat on the bench and waited. Most of the time he jammed the speakers that lead to his phone in his ears and listened to music. If it was a tough day he flipped through old pictures. He didn't know why he did that. Seemed like at times he needed something to make him feel better that he indulged in the thing that would make him feel worse. Pictures of old friends who were calling less and less. Images of past girlfriends who might have still been sweet on him. Maybe they could have worked things out or at least had a little bit more fun until they figured out they couldn't.
A massive order from out of town prompted him to work fourteen hour shifts. He basically picked up food on the way home and left it in the fridge with a note in sharpie that said "Eat This Voo" on the styrofoam lid. Either she was doing that, or pretending to. Hell, maybe she was feeding the stray cats in the neighborhood he had tried to warn her off of with it. She had a habit of helping out and connecting to the non-people.
Chase, of course, was unaware of her wanderings. Voodoo had spent so much time in the RV and it had been like pulling teeth to get her to get the job. Now that she had one? There was something in life other than him getting her out of the house and around people. He didn't like the idea of her sitting "alone" all the time.
Work left him tired. They poured molten steel into molds and once the times cooled they shipped the finished products off in wooden crates stuffed with padding. It left him reeking of sweat, the outline of his welding goggles still drawn dimly on his skin even when he got home later with food. He put up the food when he got home and mumbled something, checking for signs of life in the RV. Then Chase showered and slept. Rinse and repeat.
Before he left for work that morning he left her a note saying, "The job is only going to be two more weeks and after that I get a week off. We'll take that cooking class then."