Doing this exercise almost made Danny feel as though he had traveled back in time. He could recall the look of the old coffee pot on the grill . . . the smell of the coffee in the chilly air . . . the homeless woman who displayed tinfoil woven in her hair and muttered about being tracked by aliens . . . and Josh’s smile. Even now, prompted by memory, he felt himself smile in return. Then Stephen lifted up the pot to offer fresh coffee. He said the Loon Town Café was open again. Maybe that was the moment his friends decided to restart the restaurant in Los Angeles.
The exercise relaxed Danny. Strange that such a moment would stay with him after all these years. But at that time he had friends. He had a lover. He was part of a community of experience he valued. And now it was gone.
A rap at his hotel room door broke him out of his reverie. It must be room service delivering the quick breakfast that he planned to eat before departing for Logan Airport. Danny walked over to let the server in. When he opened the door, he saw a breakfast tray on the floor that had apparently been delivered earlier. His eyes moved up to see a person standing outside the door, but it wasn’t a hotel employee. It was Josh.
Josh walked in and closed the door. “I don’t have much time,” he said.
“What? How?” Danny stammered. There was no way this was happening. Josh was dead. He had killed him and left him to drown in the cold waters of Wisconsin.
Josh handed him a set of car keys and a Hertz envelope. “There’s a rental car waiting with the valet. I want you to take your bag, go down to the lobby, get in that car, and drive back to Wisconsin. Now.”
“Why would I do that?” There was no way Danny would listen to Josh. He had a non-stop flight to catch to Los Angeles.
“Just do it. Get on Interstate 90. Stay on it all the way to Rockford, Illinois. Then turn onto U.S. Highway 51 and drive north into Wisconsin until you can branch off on 17 to go back to Thread. You’ll be safe in Thread.”
“What are you talking about? What are you involved with now? Why are you even here? Why aren’t you dead?”
Josh seemed different—calmer, sadder, and maybe even crazier. “I couldn’t help myself. I can’t let anything go, so when I saw that someone was talking about my old projects at BLINK, I had to sneak back and hear what was said. I wondered what survived and what didn’t. Interesting, but so sad that the best parts were abandoned. By some. But not by me. I’ve kept track in my own way of everything and everyone from those days. And then I saw you in the audience. And I knew there was something I had to do.
“That’s why I’m here now. To keep you alive.
Danny didn’t know what to say, so he stood there silent.
“In my own way, and you have to believe this. I love you. Back at the lake, I found out what I wanted to know, so now I promise that I‘m going to let you live your life however you want. But first you need to listen to me. You need to change your plans. Drive home. Whatever I’ve done in the past, forget it. Trust me when I tell you to take this car and leave Boston.”
Danny eyed him. Perhaps his willingness to listen was due to a remnant of the flush of good memories churned up by the just completed exercise, or maybe he decided it was safer to escape by just following the commands of a person he considered crazy. In the years that would follow, Danny never understood exactly why he listened to Josh, or why he didn’t demand answers to all the questions in his mind. He just did what he was told.
He called down to the front desk to check out of the hotel, picked up his bag, and walked with Josh to the elevator. They rode down in silence. As they approached the valet station, Josh stayed at his side until they reached the car, and then he held the door as Danny got in.
He handed over the rental agreement and keys, “Follow Fremont until you see entrance signs for the Massachusetts Turnpike. That’s Interstate 90 and it heads straight west. Drive safe. And don’t forget me.”
With that, Josh turned and disappeared into the foot traffic of downtown Boston. The valet closed the door. Danny started the engine, pulled out into the street, and drove through the narrow streets until he reached the turnpike to head west, away from the East Coast, back toward Wisconsin, returning home.
It was a beautiful morning. The sky was deep blue. The clouds were picture perfect. It would have been a wonderful day for flying. He could see contrails of jets in the sky above. Maybe one of those was the plane he should have been on. Would he listen to Josh and drive as promised, or would he detour and head toward a city to buy a new ticket and catch a different flight to L.A.? He still didn’t know.
He thought back to his memory of the morning of the earthquake. When he opened the door to the person who showed up this morning, he saw something of the Josh he recalled in that memory. Danny decided to honor his promise to that memory. He would drive to Thread.
Danny laughed. Josh thought he had forced Danny to change, but the man was wrong. He hadn’t changed at all. Nothing that God could throw his way would ever alter who he was. He was his own man, and now he was free to chart his own course, wherever he wanted, to whatever might lie in his future.
When he entered the car, he had thrown his sports coat on the passenger seat and he noticed that the boarding pass had fallen out of his inner pocket. It was resting on the seat. American Airlines flight 11, leaving Boston just before 8:00 am, headed toward the City of Angels. Some frequent flyer probably got upgraded to first class when Danny didn’t show up to claim his seat. September 11 was going to be that person’s lucky day.
Danny didn’t care. He was in a car driving, leaving Josh behind forever, about to return home. He was ready to live life again. Alone and unentangled. Free of Josh. Free to be whatever he cared to be.
Author’s Notes
This book completes the trio of novels that make up my Thread series—three works that interweave a related cast of characters and their same small hometown in northern Wisconsin. While each is written in a different genre—Tales From the Loon Town Cafe is a humorous novel about an oddball set of characters; The Finnish Girl is a dark family saga; and The Devil’s Analyst is a more traditional mystery thriller—together, I hope they create a believable and compelling set of characters.
I would like to thank several people who helped me complete this title. My thanks to Betty Cary who diligently provided a copy edit of the draft and made sure I was consistent with so many details. Tina Masiak and Chris Storey were equally assiduous in making certain that I kept my timeline and my geographical references accurate. I also appreciate an early reading by Dixie Walker who warned me so often when I got carried away. Thanks also to the many readers who have ever sent me a comment or posted a review. Above all, I would like to thank my husband Robert Tieman who has been my rock of support and best of critics ever since I decided to chuck corporate life early and pursue writing in my retirement.
Finally, I salute the talents of Dena Kuhn at AzureFire who has done a masterful job at designing the current covers for all three titles in the Thread series.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Dennis Frahmann grew up in Wisconsin, trained in journalism, and spent most of his adult life in New York, Minneapolis, and Los Angeles. Today he resides with his husband, Robert Tieman, in the seaside village of Cambria, California. This is his third novel.
To learn more, visit www.loontown.com or follow the author at www.facebook.com/loontowncafe
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