Caelan felt an indescribable sadness as they motored away from the decrepit swamp shack. They puttered through the bayou in silence, enjoying the calm after the literal storm. It was a new experience for Caelan. He sat at the head of the boat, watching as various backwater critters crept out of their hiding holes. Beautiful white cranes stood in the shallow edges of the marsh. Crocodiles floated through the water, undoubtedly searching for their next meal. Caelan felt a newfound appreciation for them.<br/><br/>Soon after, Dusty pulled the truck up in front of Caelan’s apartment. He chuckled at Dusty’s parting instruction and patted the hood of the truck with his palm before giving him a single wave. Caelan entered the building and jogged up the staircase. He heard the rumble grow quieter as he stood at the window, feeling an additional wave of sadness as the truck, and Dusty, disappeared from view.<br/><br/>■ ■ ■ ■<br/><br/>Caelan spent the better part of the morning working on household tasks. He scrubbed soap into his comforter until his knuckles were red. He huffed, sitting on the edge of his bed with the bedding draped over his knees. Caelan flopped back on the bed and shoved his fingers through his hair. Why had he told Dusty three weeks? Three days would have been too desperate, but even one week would have been too long. He had hardly made it 24 hours and he was already bored and impatient.<br/><br/>This was worse than waiting for Christmas as a kid.<br/><br/>He stared at the ceiling for the better part of an hour before he forced himself upright. He finished cleaning the comforter and rinsed the soap out with rain water. Caelan laid it over his kitchen island to dry and grabbed his dirt bike keys from the stool beside the door. The apartment suddenly felt tiny and closing in on him with every second that passed. The shack on the water had felt larger than this at the time, and that was saying something. Maybe it was the realization that he was alone.<br/><br/>Caelan rode his bike out of town and to Helene’s house. She reprimanded him for not coming by for the past several weeks and fed him canned chicken and fresh snap peas. Caelan shared his new friendship and explained their time together. He focused on their working relationship - fixing his bike, pulling the boat motor, fishing - and left out the more physical aspect of their time together.<br/><br/>“Come on, sugar. I tink I have some fishin’ poles of Albin’s in da shed. You practice.”<br/><br/>Together, they rifled through the storage shed in Helene’s backyard. They found a couple fishing pools and some wire. Lures and hooks in an old cigar box, some rusted, but probably usable as far as Dusty was concerned. Caelan was excited to show Dusty his haul and prove that he was interested in Dusty’s life, opposite of the point he may have argued. He helped Helene refill her bird feeders and sat on the seat of his bike as Helene passed him the poles and supplies. He balanced them around his person.<br/><br/>“You be careful ‘round dat man, ya hear?” Helene grasped Caelan’s chin in her hand as she spoke. “I hear many stories ‘bout ol’ Dusty, but I ain’t gon’ judge. Just be careful, alright? Don’t want nothin’ happenin’ to you, sugar. Couldn’t bear it.” The blond nodded in agreement and gently squeezed her wrist. Caelan could only imagine what Helene would think if she knew the complete truth about them.<br/><br/>He turned his bike around once the conversation ended and headed back in the direction of home.