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‘How would you or why would you even…’ He stared at that same stain on the ceiling every morning. He shifted his head one way then the next as if that would somehow give him some insight on what could have possible made that mark. He saw it but didn’t ask about it when he was looking at the apartment in the first place. Living in this city for this price made questions like that just disappear.

“Dude get up.” Gene said with a look of what Steve assumed was boredom on his face.

“Yeah, yeah I am. Man this lack of motivation thing is hitting hard today.” Steve said sitting up on the edge of his bed. One of the problems of a studio apartment is when you are in full slob mode there’s no way to hide it, “Oh, my god this place is a mess.”

“Uh, yeah that’s an understatement.” Gene mocked, “But you can take care of that later. You need to get up and get some fresh air. Something that will help you revitalize yourself.”

Steve looked at the dishes that were piling up and then at his desk with ideas and papers strewn about. “Yeah alright,” he wiped the sleep from his eyes and reached his arms in the air only to get a sudden stitch in his side. “Ow! Christ what the fuck is that about?” he said quickly righting himself and rubbing his midsection.

“Well you’re not a spring chicken anymore.” Steve could hear the apathetic tone in Genes voice.

“Do you ever have anything constructive to say?” Steve asked.

“Come on, you know me.” Gene said. Steve just shook his head knowing that was going to be his reply.

“Ok, so what was my plan today…?” Steve rubbed his face wildly as though he could simply erase it and replace with someone who wasn’t struggling to be themselves.

“You said you wanted to check out that lady that was making bagels near the lake.” Gene chimed in.

“Oh yeah, right.” The sudden thought of a dense doughy bagel cheered him up a little. “It is hard to find a good bagel these days.” Steve said going through his closet that was hanging over a nearby chair.

“Uh, yeah bagels, but you said that the area would be a good spot for us as well, right?.” Steve heard the slight worry and anticipation in Genes voice.

“Oh yeah yeah of course,” he replied quickly tucking an old t-shirt into his jeans. “I’ll definitely take down some notes while I’m there, don’t worry.” Steve grabbed his little notebook, tucked into his back pocket and searched his counter for any left over edible food. He paused for a moment as he came across the end of a piece of toast with jam on it trying to remember when he actually made it. With a shrug he tossed it in his mouth, grabbed his button down from the back of the door and headed out the door, “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Gene was worried of course. Steven’s path had veered drastically recently. He wasn’t sure what it was. He would just catch mutterings here and there when Steven would talk to himself around the apartment. Was it work? He would complain about that from time to time but who didn’t, it seemed like the goal for most people like him was to just find a job that would give him the means to not need that job anymore.

Then Gene thought that maybe it was about a partner, maybe someone that he was interested in? Like some heartbreak story that had gotten him out of sorts, but Steve was so guarded that he very rarely let anyone in anyways. Those trust issues stemmed from the past but that was another story altogether.

What ever it may be it was definitely affecting his motivation, but isn’t it always best to give someone a chance to work things out on their own before intervening? Gene didn’t want to pester him in case it put a strain on their own relationship. He didn’t want to be sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong. If Steve really wanted him to know he would definitely find a way to work it in right?

A few hours later Steve came in carrying a brown paper bag that he placed on the counter. He took his button down off, tossed it back on the door and with a feverish look on his face pulled out a sesame bagel from the bag. He unplugged the microwave and plugged in the toaster, “My god, these bagel are to die for! I had one while I was there of course but I had to buy some more.”

Gene was wondering if the notebook even saw the light of day.

“Not many places boil their bagels,” Steve continued practically salivating over the metal box now heating up his treasure. “She has worked out the perfect amount of time to boil then bake, so good!”

Gene put on his best voice of feigned interest, “Oh cool, so what does the boiling actually do?”

Steve was well aware that Gene probably didn’t care but went on to explain it anyways, “Well, when you boil the bagel first, it gives that crusty chewy outside and helps keep the moisture in so it comes out dense and chewy on the inside.”

“Ah, I see. And how was the spot? It was nice outside right? Must have made for a nice little place to hang out with some friends or whatnot?”

Steve was aware at what he was getting at so he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket wagged it in the air. “Yeah I jotted down a few things, and yes it was a nice little spot.”

Gene was a little relieved as Steve put the notebook down beside the toaster and began buttering his bagel, making sure that no edges were ignored.

He brought both the bagel and notebook over to his desk and after that first glorious bite he opened up the book to some of his notes:

- The trailer was a truncated airstream. Shiny, rounded corners ‘looked like a mirror’

- She had it parked right at the edge of parking lot. Next to the walkway that ran beside the lake

- Picnic tables, ‘Could anybody use them?’

- A good place for first date? Open, in the public, lots of people around

- No pressure, casual, can get up an leave when ever you wanted.

Gene couldn’t help but notice the lack of detail and decided to say something, “Is that it?”

Steve didn’t take it to seriously at first, chewing his bagel that was obviously the most important thing in the world right now. “What do you mean? It was a really good spot?”

“Yeah, I get that, but you use to have so much more detail,” Gene tried to sound excited, “You know, like, when describing a scene you had so much emotion tied to it. Personifying the buildings and plants and talking about the importance of emotion in simple everyday things.”

Steven sat silent for a moment. ‘Who was he to tell me how to describe things?’ He looked around at the pages on his desk and some of his notes as if that was proof enough that he was well aware of what he was doing.

Gene could sense the vibe changing a little and tried to prove his point so that things wouldn’t get out of hand. “There look at that one there, the one under the coffee thermos.” the notes you made about that farmhouse you took us to.”

Steve reached over a little annoyed that he Gene thought he didn’t remember the farmhouse, I mean they were his notes after all. He slid the paper out from under the thermos and looked at some of the notes he made when he hit up that trail.

-It was like the reeds were waving me in the direction, like ‘Hey we have something to show you’ moving and flowing back and forth, ‘Yes this way, come this way...’

-coming around the corner the farmhouse was like it was hiding, ashamed at it’s rickety worn doors, shattered windows and patchy faded paint. Trying to hide itself amongst the tall grass and bushes.

-It remembered when it was proud and new, in its prime, a destination that people made a point to visit. Strong and virile, a protector from the elements, but now old with time. It’s once strong joints and bones now loose nails and snapped planks. It’s paint job now worn age spots thin and blotchy in so many places.

-but his friend the fence, an old true friend always there with him leading him by the hand. Trying to explain the wisdom and experience they gained with time to the old friend.

-the fence had a different story, welcoming, with its splintered, broken and even burnt beams proud of it’s hidden spot just for adventurers willing to go searching. It was full of stories of youngster sitting on its rails laughing, drinking being rebellious and finding themselves and a place they could call their own if only for that moment.

Steve stopped reading, he remembered the notes all too well. Proud even, of the writing and ideas that he had put down that day. It was obvious that he was in a different place then and he didn’t like the idea that Gene was telling him or proving him otherwise. He chewed slowly now all enjoyment of the bagels pulled out from him. ‘Did Gene really think that telling me this or showing me this would just put me back on the path? How long have I been telling stories that have proved to be of no interest to others? Failed ideas and imagery…’

Gene was recognizing that things might not be going his way, “Uh, listen, I don’t know what I’m talking about. I mean you obviously have those things in your head and know what it is you are going to say.” Gene was definitely feeling a little worried. “I was just pointing out some differences that I saw in one set of notes compared to the others, I mean how can I know what you’re thinking. Just forget I ever said anything.”

How could he? How could he possibly forget someone pointing out his shortcomings? He just went along with it and played it off as nothing for the time being. “No, you’re right. I could have definitely put some more thought into some of these notes.”

Gene was wondering if he should just keep playing it down, “Well, I was just saying I saw a difference is all, nothing any more than that. Honestly just forget it.”

“No I mean if we want people to understand and really get the feel of where we are and the journeys that we are going on I need to be more emotive. We really want people to think that they are there with us.”

“Well I mean, You do that very well in fact you always have, I am just a pawn in this whole scenario. A tool to get you from point A to point B its’ not really my place.” Gene was worried that he might have gone to far.

“Naw, you are right. It really was a nice spot I think I will sit down and maybe flesh it out a bit more. Thanks for keeping me on point.”

“Well like I said I am just here to help with motivation so if that is something I can do then I am always happy to help.” Gene was feeling a bit better he felt like Steve was taking it as good constructive input.

Steve got up and put another bagel into toast. “Yeah I am feeling good now, a good little fire lit under me. I got some ideas to play around with now.”

Steve cleared some space and started writing, Gene was feeling better as every moment passed. Steve was enjoying his second bagel a garlic and onion bagel toasted just enough for the bits of onion on the top to get crispy.

Just then there was a knock at the door. “Are you expecting someone?” Gene asked.

“Oh yeah, it was a guy I met today on the bus.” Steve said nonchalantly. “Yeah we got to talking and learned that we had some things in common. You know sharing ideas and stuff why don’t you let him in. I think you’ll like him.”

Gene walked over to the door, looked around at the state of the apartment and then at Steve. But Steve just motioned with his head to got ahead an let him in so Gene opened the door.

This gentleman standing in front of him was definitely a site to behold. The hallway was already badly lit but somehow this man seemed to pull shadows from the surrounding area and make it even darker.

A wide brimmed hat sitting low on his head, just enough to show is narrow eyes. The lines of his face seemed like they were roaming his cheek bones, unsettled and needing a place to rest. His shoulders were pointed and rigid as if forced to always be standing at attention. The coat looked like weathered leather, pitch black, if he didn’t know any better you would think someone had run shoe polish all over it. The trench coat had double buttons down the center that looked dull like pewter and vanished behind a think band of interwoven leather at the waist. But from the waist down the coat had turned into thick half foot wide ribbons that hung heavily to the floor. In the darkness it was nearly impossible to tell if they were swaying of their own accord across his knee high boots and tight black pants.

Gene turned back to Steve with a look that asked, ‘This is your bus friend?’.

“You must be Gene.” The stranger said in a guttural tone without moving his mouth.

Steve suddenly got up from the desk like everything was normal, grabbed his button down and then tossed Gene a light jacket, “Here, come on we are going for a walk.”

Gene just put on the jacket without thinking and followed Steve through the door as the stranger led them down to the street. “Steve, whats happening? Who is this guy and where are we going?”

“I told you, I met him on the bus. We got to chatting and he told me of a wonderful spot that we could use. I know, I know I usually just write them down for you to enjoy but you were right earlier we need more emotion and I thought that if you came along this time you could help me with my wording maybe.”

“Um, ok. But do you know where we’re going?”

“Oh, not at all, But he said it would be a good surprise for both of us if we just follow him.”

Gene was feeling anxious for sure but he trusted Steve. “You know Gene, it’s been a tough run for me for the last year.” Steve started up this topic as if they were already in the middle of a conversation.

“Yeah, you mentioned that before but you always seemed to handle the pressures, and in the end you always took us to great places and on wonderful adventures.” Before Gene knew it they were walking along a familiar river. The stranger up ahead at few steps keeping them to a casual pace.

“Oh good, I am glad you have enjoyed the places I have taken you.” Steve said patting Gene on the shoulder. “I mean you are my ultimate goal right? If you don’t appreciate the stories then no one will.”

“Well yeah, I guess thats true.”

“Right and I don’t want things to get boring or repetitive for you, otherwise everyone will see it. So I thought introducing something new for you would help keep things fresh.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Gene looked back at the river they were tracing. “Hey is this-.”

“Yes!” Steve slapped him on the back again cutting him off. “This is the river that we had planned the picnic with Stacy on.”

Gene tried to recall Stacy but was coming up short. The name seemed very familiar to him but he couldn’t place her face. “What ever happened to her, I can’t seem to remember.”

“Oh, she never turned into anything unfortunately but I have used this river a few times so I am not surprised you remember this.”

The stranger suddenly stopped and hopped down the bank to a muddy clearing and he became aware that the evening had seemingly turned to night. Steve stopped and motioned Gene to follow the stranger.

Gene suddenly felt a fear and compulsion take over him. “You know I was just talking earlier right, it wasn’t based on anything.”

“Yeah, I know. And like I said I would never want you to get bored.”

Gene turned to stranger who was waiting for him then looked back at Steve.

“Just think of it as another adventure.” Steve said as he motioned him towards the river.

Gene moved slowly forward looking back at Steve the whole time. “I’m sorry Steve.” He took a few more slow steps. “I always thought your adventures were amazing, someone is going to read you and see your talent.” Gene slipped on the muddy bank and toppled downwards face covered in grass and dirt. His eyes were glassy, “I would go anywhere with you I hope you know that.”

“This is not a punishment Gene, it’s a gift of life. We all need to have an end to recognize our beginnings right?” Gene struggled to his knees and with a frightened comprehension wiped the mud from his eyes and said, “Yes, I guess you’re right.”