Slack: A Day in the Life of Ford Aston
Page 22
How I love to make this girl happy. I’ve never wanted someone to be happy so much in my life. “It’s called Sirius. It’s the brightest star in the sky and it’s prominent in the winter. An educated guess, that’s all.”
She’s silent for a few seconds. “I wished on that star, Ford. I asked Santa Claus or God or someone, it didn’t matter to me who it was. I just wished on that star and I asked it to make my life change. Because I couldn’t live like that anymore, Ford. I was thinking bad things last Christmas. It was a very dark time for me. But I wished on that star that my life would change. It didn’t even have to be a good change, but it just couldn’t stay the same. And it did. I took a lot of chances. I accepted a lot of risk to get here, but here I am. I feel like I’m home now.”
I nod, but inside I’m devastated. “I understand, Rook, I do.”
Ronin’s voice calls out to her from a distance. He must be in the doorway to the studio.
“Well, that ball and chain is barking at me to come inside and go to bed. Will I see you tomorrow, Ford?
There is nothing I want more than to see you tomorrow. I want you every day. These words try to come out, but I hold them back with great difficulty. “No, I think I have plans tomorrow. With a girl up in Wyoming.”
“Would that be Sasha?” she chuckles.
“Yeah—” I want to tell Rook everything. Every single thing that happened to me today from Merc to Sasha, to Veronica and Spencer, and my mom and her new boyfriend. So much happened today and I have no one to share it with. No one. I just want someone to listen to me for once.
“You’ll be at the New Year’s Party for sure, though, right? Exit interviews for Shrike Bikes Season One? You know how I hate those…”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I know. And for sure I’ll be there.”
“OK, Ford. Merry Christmas. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
The phone beeps that the call has ended and I’m alone again. I look up at Rook’s Christmas star and make my own wish. I need something new. I need someone new. I need change, good or bad, like Rook said. I just need this life to stop being mine.
I take a deep breath and go back inside to my totally empty, ultra-modern, sterile, cold and lonely condo.
The knife I bought from Sasha is still wrapped up in pretty Christmas bows and paper, so I pick it up and sit on the couch to open it. I untie the gold ribbon and then carefully peel back the red paper. It’s stupid to be excited, I know what the gift is, I bought it for myself. But even so, Sasha made it special.
Inside the case is the Snubby CQC . But that’s not all that’s in there. I smile as I pick up the silver flash drive all decorated up with mini stickers. Snowflakes, Santa faces, reindeer, and a few guns.
Fucking Nikita.
I grab my computer from the office and set it on the coffee table so I can plug the drive in and see what’s on it. It can’t be anything personal, she didn’t have time. But the curiosity is killing me.
It’s got an autorun program that pulls up a welcome screen. It’s bobbleheads with transposed pictures of Sasha and her father’s faces on them, bobbing their heads to Jingle Bells.
The menu almost breaks my heart. This must be a photo CD of trips Sasha and her dad took. I click a link and it cycles through a series of images set to Christmas music.
I bet that little girl is kicking herself for giving me this drive. I get up and go to my closet safe and get out the external drive I keep here with my scripts on it and run a Wyoming DMV crawl for the name Cherlin. There’s a few of them, one in Cheyenne, obviously Sasha’s father. A few in Laramie, obviously not cattle ranchers since they are within city limits on the satellite map. And one family up in Big Horn, just south of Sheridan. I memorize the address and blow out a long breath of air.
Sasha will never have another happy Christmas. She will never live through this day without thinking of how her father was killed, how she was left in a cabin to wait out some f**ked up black-ops job, how she ended up in the hospital—orphaned.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be this guy, I can’t live this life, I can’t stay here tonight. I walk into my bedroom and stuff a backpack full of clothes. I grab my toothbrush and some toiletries, shoving them inside as well. And then I pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, shrug myself into my boots and leather jacket, and walk out the door.
I can’t change the fact that Sasha got her dad taken away from her on Christmas Eve, but I can be the guy who shows up on Christmas Day, trying his best to make this f**ked up shit just a little bit easier.
Epilogue - New Year's Eve
The Chaput New Year’s Eve party is famous in Denver. I’m not a party person and for me New Year’s Eve is a time to be alone, so I’ve only ever been once besides this year. I wouldn’t even be here tonight if we weren’t filming for the season finale of Shrike Bikes, but Rook disappeared almost the entire month of December with Ronin. First the GIDGET runway show in LA, then a week in Cancun, then Christmas.
So, here I am, trying to pin her ass down and get this over with.
I’d rather be anywhere but here. I’d rather talk to anyone but her.
The entire studio has been cleared of equipment and replaced with tables and a dance floor. The band is playing, the lighting is moody and atmospheric, and there are almost three hundred people here all dressed in black. I’ve finished the exit interviews for everyone except Rook, but she’s conveniently made herself scarce.
She’s silent for a few seconds. “I wished on that star, Ford. I asked Santa Claus or God or someone, it didn’t matter to me who it was. I just wished on that star and I asked it to make my life change. Because I couldn’t live like that anymore, Ford. I was thinking bad things last Christmas. It was a very dark time for me. But I wished on that star that my life would change. It didn’t even have to be a good change, but it just couldn’t stay the same. And it did. I took a lot of chances. I accepted a lot of risk to get here, but here I am. I feel like I’m home now.”
I nod, but inside I’m devastated. “I understand, Rook, I do.”
Ronin’s voice calls out to her from a distance. He must be in the doorway to the studio.
“Well, that ball and chain is barking at me to come inside and go to bed. Will I see you tomorrow, Ford?
There is nothing I want more than to see you tomorrow. I want you every day. These words try to come out, but I hold them back with great difficulty. “No, I think I have plans tomorrow. With a girl up in Wyoming.”
“Would that be Sasha?” she chuckles.
“Yeah—” I want to tell Rook everything. Every single thing that happened to me today from Merc to Sasha, to Veronica and Spencer, and my mom and her new boyfriend. So much happened today and I have no one to share it with. No one. I just want someone to listen to me for once.
“You’ll be at the New Year’s Party for sure, though, right? Exit interviews for Shrike Bikes Season One? You know how I hate those…”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I know. And for sure I’ll be there.”
“OK, Ford. Merry Christmas. I’ll see you soon. Bye.”
The phone beeps that the call has ended and I’m alone again. I look up at Rook’s Christmas star and make my own wish. I need something new. I need someone new. I need change, good or bad, like Rook said. I just need this life to stop being mine.
I take a deep breath and go back inside to my totally empty, ultra-modern, sterile, cold and lonely condo.
The knife I bought from Sasha is still wrapped up in pretty Christmas bows and paper, so I pick it up and sit on the couch to open it. I untie the gold ribbon and then carefully peel back the red paper. It’s stupid to be excited, I know what the gift is, I bought it for myself. But even so, Sasha made it special.
Inside the case is the Snubby CQC . But that’s not all that’s in there. I smile as I pick up the silver flash drive all decorated up with mini stickers. Snowflakes, Santa faces, reindeer, and a few guns.
Fucking Nikita.
I grab my computer from the office and set it on the coffee table so I can plug the drive in and see what’s on it. It can’t be anything personal, she didn’t have time. But the curiosity is killing me.
It’s got an autorun program that pulls up a welcome screen. It’s bobbleheads with transposed pictures of Sasha and her father’s faces on them, bobbing their heads to Jingle Bells.
The menu almost breaks my heart. This must be a photo CD of trips Sasha and her dad took. I click a link and it cycles through a series of images set to Christmas music.
I bet that little girl is kicking herself for giving me this drive. I get up and go to my closet safe and get out the external drive I keep here with my scripts on it and run a Wyoming DMV crawl for the name Cherlin. There’s a few of them, one in Cheyenne, obviously Sasha’s father. A few in Laramie, obviously not cattle ranchers since they are within city limits on the satellite map. And one family up in Big Horn, just south of Sheridan. I memorize the address and blow out a long breath of air.
Sasha will never have another happy Christmas. She will never live through this day without thinking of how her father was killed, how she was left in a cabin to wait out some f**ked up black-ops job, how she ended up in the hospital—orphaned.
I can’t do this anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t be this guy, I can’t live this life, I can’t stay here tonight. I walk into my bedroom and stuff a backpack full of clothes. I grab my toothbrush and some toiletries, shoving them inside as well. And then I pull on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, shrug myself into my boots and leather jacket, and walk out the door.
I can’t change the fact that Sasha got her dad taken away from her on Christmas Eve, but I can be the guy who shows up on Christmas Day, trying his best to make this f**ked up shit just a little bit easier.
Epilogue - New Year's Eve
The Chaput New Year’s Eve party is famous in Denver. I’m not a party person and for me New Year’s Eve is a time to be alone, so I’ve only ever been once besides this year. I wouldn’t even be here tonight if we weren’t filming for the season finale of Shrike Bikes, but Rook disappeared almost the entire month of December with Ronin. First the GIDGET runway show in LA, then a week in Cancun, then Christmas.
So, here I am, trying to pin her ass down and get this over with.
I’d rather be anywhere but here. I’d rather talk to anyone but her.
The entire studio has been cleared of equipment and replaced with tables and a dance floor. The band is playing, the lighting is moody and atmospheric, and there are almost three hundred people here all dressed in black. I’ve finished the exit interviews for everyone except Rook, but she’s conveniently made herself scarce.
