Angus was a reclusive man and wasn’t seen much around the Farm. He had cleared out a work area in one corner of the cluttered metal barn and set up a workshop inside, and would once in a great while run his saws and sanders to create the illusion of production. Every so often he was seen galloping in a panic from his rustic off-the-grid cabin with no indoor plumbing to George’s house three hundred yards away, pants already unbuckled when he burst into the downstairs bathroom. He was always invited to join the community bonfire every evening, everybody was, but Angus usually declined and stayed off by himself in his cabin.
Due to all of this, it was a hot topic one night when Angus was suddenly seen in the kitchen at the house, and not just that, but he was wearing what appeared to be clean clothes without holes in them and he smelled like soap. Geoffrey saw him sliding a tray of frozen pizza bites in the oven while he had stumbled inside to grab a second jug of wine to share with the gang outside at that evening’s bonfire. “What’s going on, big guy?” he asked.
“Got a date at my cabin, she’ll be here any minute,” Angus mumbled quietly.
“Want some wine?” came Geoffrey’s most-asked question that summer, holding up the jug as an offering. “I know what women like.”
Angus said no, that he was treating the lady to some beer, which he said would pair nicely with the hot pizza bites. “And fuckin’ keep it quiet, man,” Angus warned him sternly. Geoffrey made the motion of zipping his lips shut as he stumbled back outside.
“ANGUS HAS A HOT DATE!” Geoffrey hissed to the group outside before he even reached his chair, signaling silence by putting a finger to his lips.Everyone looked up at him, then away. There was very little interest in the announcement and folks fell back into whatever they’d been talking about.
Copyright © 2020 J.J. West. Campfire Tales.
All Rights Reserved.