Kindred Spirits Read online

  Nate was so astounded at the reaction that he was speechless. He turned, went straight to his desk and wrote a letter of resignation that began with ‘Effective immediately’.

  He finished the letter, emailed it to Shepherd and HR, gathered up his few personal belongings and left the office behind. No one spoke to him at all but he could hear Shepherd laughing loudly.

  Out on the sidewalk, he wasn’t sure how he should be feeling at this moment. He had just quit his job on short notice without the assurance of another one. That would be bound to go against him if he applied for another job at the Sentinel. Or maybe any other newspaper in town. However, on the other hand he was strangely relieved and walked to his car feeling as if a great weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

  His first instinct was to call Creed. That would make it real. In the car, he tapped Creed’s number and listened to the ringing on the other end.

  “Nate,” Creed said. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again so soon.”

  “Well, there’s a reason for that,” Nate said, his confidence growing. Yes, he’d made the right decision. He could feel it in his heart and soul.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you still willing to help me clean out the house?” Nate asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Can you meet me there this afternoon, say around three?” Nate asked.

  There was a brief silence and then Creed said, “Sure, I can do that”

  And then Nate said something he never dreamed he would say. “Looks like I’m coming back to Lost Creek.”

  Eight: Down and Out

  Creed was thrilled to see Nate’s number show up in his Caller ID so early on a Monday morning. With shaking fingers he tapped the screen and said, “Nate. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you again so soon.”

  “Well, there’s a reason for that,” Nate said.

  “Okay.”

  “Are you still willing to help me clean out the house?” Nate asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Can you meet me there this afternoon, say around three?” Nate asked.

  Creed’s knees grew weak. He sank into a nearby chair and reached for his camera to assure himself that he was not dreaming. Nate was coming back to town and wanted his help. This couldn’t really be happening.

  Finally, struggling to control the excitement in his voice, Creed said, “Sure, I can do that.’

  “Looks like I’m coming back to Lost Creek,” Nate said with finality.

  Creed was speechless for a moment. He had no idea if Nate was coming back for good or for a day or a week. He just knew he was going to spend as much time with Nate as possible.

  When the call ended, he was suddenly buzzing with energy. Three that afternoon seemed eons away and he had no idea what to do with himself until then. He paced his small apartment and then ran downstairs to try and talk to the super again. Again, it appeared that no one was home so he ran back upstairs, grabbed change out of the bowl on the table and his camera and headed out to his car. He’d been in contact with Amtrak’s public relations department after hearing that sometimes they bought pictures taken of their trains for their yearly calendar. It was something he’d been meaning to try and right now, this moment, was the only thing he could think of to do to get his emotions under control.

  At the small train station, which was practically right in the center of town, he checked the schedule. Two trains were scheduled to arrive during the next hour. He grabbed a coffee from the little café next door, took a seat on one of the benches outside and waited.

  And tried not to think about Nate.

  That was impossible. He imagined them working together, both of them tired and covered with dust and grime. Nate would give him that big, easy smile and reach for him. Over the past twenty-four hours, he’d dreamed about their first kiss, that first intimate moment. And now, just maybe, there was a chance it might come true.

  As usual, both trains were late but when they did arrive, Creed was able to get some wonderful photos of the sleek blue and silver beauties. Ignoring his grumbling stomach reminding him he had not had breakfast, he returned to his car. He checked his cell to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from Nate or the real estate office and then drove home.

  Creed was still excited but somehow oddly at ease at the same time as he drove through the small town where he’d grown up. The future didn’t look nearly as bleak as it had the day before. Because of the possibilities that Nate promised? He wasn’t sure but that was surely a part of it.

  Creed smiled. He’d spend the next couple of hours lost in editing software to make these pictures the best he could produce and then he would send them to his contact at Amtrak’s public relations department. Then he’d run by the real estate office to see if he could talk to Ricky about an advance on his pay.

  Yes, things were looking up.

  Locking his car, he went inside the building, pausing to check his mail. He scooped the stack of envelopes out of his little box and glanced at them quickly. All bills. Bills he couldn’t pay at that moment but he had high hopes that Rick would be able to help him out. He’d emailed the pictures he’d taken of the Palmer House to Rick the night before so Rick would have looked at them already that morning.

  Just as he closed the little door and locked it, he thought he heard the super’s door close softly. Creed didn’t see anyone in sight but he stepped over to the door and knocked softly.

  No one answered.

  “Mr. Rogers,” Creed called out and knocked again.

  No response.

  Maybe he’d just imagined it. Fueled by the ideas floating around in his head, he gave up and headed upstairs. When he reached the top of the stairs, and pushed through the door into the hallway, he came to an abrupt halt. Something was very, very wrong. Standing very still, hardly daring to breathe, Creed stared down the dimly lit hall. In front of his apartment door was a neat stack of boxes and black garbage bags.

  When he was finally able to move, he approached them carefully, as if something might jump out and grab him. Upon closer inspection he found that they were all labeled with his name. Curious, he opened the top box and found it full of what looked like clothing. His clothing. While he was standing there trying to figure out what this was all about, his gaze strayed to the door.

  And that beautiful, shiny, new lock that stood out like a sore thumb.

  He’d been evicted.

  The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. He simply stood there with one hand on his belongings and blinked at the battered green door.

  With that shiny, new lock.

  Even though he knew, in his heart, it wouldn’t work, he gathered up his courage and tried the key. It slid in easily enough but would not turn.

  Yeah, he’d been evicted and he had no idea what to do next. The first thought that came to mind was to call Nate but he rejected that immediately. The last thing he wanted to do was look like a loser.

  And he wasn’t a loser. Not by a long shot. This was merely a bump in the road.

  The next thought was to call his sister but she already had her hands full. She didn’t need the worry of her down and out brother added to her stressful life. He thought of going downstairs and trying to reason with his landlord but it looked like that was already too late. In the end, the only thing he could be thankful for was that they had not locked up his belongings. And they would have been well within their rights to do that. He looked through the boxes carefully and, much to his relief, found his extra camera, equipment and his laptop carefully packed in among the clothing.

  Using the rickety old elevator, he loaded the boxes and bags on it, climbed on board and hit the button for the main floor. Once the doors opened there, he found a cart, provided for the tenants to use while moving in and used it to move all of his things out to the car.

  He returned the cart to the lobby and went back to his car. There he sat for a few moments, wondering what to do next. He might have just enough in his ch
ecking account to stay at the old hotel in town. But he hated to use his last few dollars just to keep a roof over his head for one night. He could spend the night with Julia and her family but there would be a lot of questions to answer. He just wasn’t up to that. And he was going to have to eat at some point during the day or pass out.

  Creed drove slowly through town looking to see if anyone was hiring. At this point, he’d work at Dairy Rite if he had to. Not a help wanted sign in sight. He was tempted to check with the paper to see if they needed any help there but the last time he’d been in there, they hadn’t seemed at all receptive to even talking to him.

  There was a very small ad agency in town, run by one man. Creed had some layout and design training so he drove by there to see if he needed any help at all. The door was locked even though it was almost noon. Not even a CLOSED sign in the window.

  And, when he got back to his car, he found a parking ticket tucked under his windshield wiper. “That’s exactly what I needed,” Creed muttered as he dropped it on the passenger seat next to him.

  His last hope was Ricky Silver.

  Prepared to beg if necessary, Creed drove to the real-estate office and was relieved to find Rick’s office door partially open. He knocked on it lightly.

  “Come in,” Rick said.

  “Sir, are you busy?” Creed asked, stepping into the room.

  “Never too busy to talk to you,” Rick said, dropping his pen on the desk and stretching his long arms over his head. “Hey, I just looked at the exterior pictures of the Palmer house. They’re just about perfect. No interior pics yet?”

  “Thank you,” Creed said, relieved that at least one thing was going in the right direction. “Um, it’s going to be a while before we can get pictures of the inside.”

  “That bad, huh,” Rick said, nodding.

  Creed nodded. “That bad. The good news is Nate is coming back down and we’re going to tackle it together.”

  “That is good news,” Rick said with a big smile. “And you seem pretty happy about that yourself.”

  “It shows?” Creed asked.

  “Looked like a fireworks display when you two shook hands,” Rick said with a laugh.

  Creed felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

  Rick cocked his head to one side and gave him a level look. “Something else is going on,” he guessed.

  Creed cleared his throat. “Rick, I hate to ask but—” Creed hesitated and took a deep breath. Saying it aloud would make it real but he had to talk to someone.

  “What is it?” Rick asked. “You know you can talk to me.”

  “I’ve been evicted from my apartment,” Creed finally said.

  “Wow,” Rick asked. “I knew you were having a tough time since you lost your job at the newspaper but I didn’t think it was that bad.”

  All Creed could do was swallow hard and try to put on a good front. “If I could get an advance on my pay—”

  “Absolutely,” Rick said immediately, reaching for his check book. “It’s not going to be enough to put a roof over your head, though.”

  Relief flooded through Creed. “Right now anything would help. Luckily, it’s warm weather so I can sleep in my car if I have to.”

  “What about your sister?” Rick asked.

  “I’m saving that as a last resort,” Creed said. “She doesn’t need one more person depending on her, not with mom-,” Creed ended in a shrug.

  “I get it,” Rick said.

  Notorious for being an out of the box problem solver, Rick began tapping the edge of his desk with his pen, frowning in concentration. “I have an idea,” Rick finally said.

  “At this point, I’m up for anything,” Creed told him, trying to keep his emotions in check.

  “Nate Palmer,” Rick said.

  “I’m supposed to meet him at the house this afternoon at three,” Creed said, somewhat confused.

  Rick began to grin and rubbed both of his big hands together. “Okay. Maybe he could help you out,” Rick suggested. “I mean, that’s a big old house and if he’d let you stay there temporarily, you could get even more work done.”

  “It’s a thought,” Creed said. “I wouldn’t want to do anything that might harm your working relationship with him, though.”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t see how that would be a problem. At least think about it.”

  Creed chewed his bottom lip. He didn’t want to do anything that might make him look weak or helpless in Nate’s eyes.

  “I could talk to him for you if you want,” Rick suggested.

  That would be even worse.

  “Thanks. I’ll let you know,” Creed said, picking up the notes, he’d made for his afternoon assignment. “In the meantime, can I bring my laptop in and some camera equipment inside and store it in one of the offices? I can’t leave it in the car.”

  “Sure thing,” Rick said with a big smile. Coming around the desk, he placed one arm around Creed’s shoulders in a fatherly gesture. “You’re gonna get through this. I promise,” he said. “You’re young and smart and one of the best photographers I’ve ever seen.”

  Those words alone lifted Creed’s spirits more than Rick would have ever guessed.

  The little house he was scheduled to photograph that afternoon was in a quiet neighborhood just outside of town. He unlocked the door and let himself into the empty house and his first thought was that it was in dire need of being updated. This was yet another situation where the last parent had died. The children, with lives of their own, had no interest in keeping the modest home. The house felt sad and lonely.

  Creed walked through the dark house struggling to get the most flattering shots of the small rooms with the dark wood paneled walls. At least that took his mind off of his personal problems for the moment. The outside of the home with the postage stamp sized yard wasn’t much better and he tried not to capture the sadness and neglect in the photographs, the sagging porch, the weedy yard.

  While he worked, he wondered if the people who usually took care of yard work for Rick needed any help and made a mental note to ask. With summer coming on quickly, it was a possibility.

  A glance at his watch told him it was almost time to meet Nate. Just the thought of seeing him again, made Creed smile. He drove by Dairy Rite, grabbed a burger and fries and then went to the Palmer House. Nate had not yet arrived. Not wanting to appear too eager, he parked down the street where he could see the driveway and waited for Nate to show up.

  Three o’clock came and went and Nate was still nowhere in sight. Creed checked his phone to see if he’d missed a call somehow.

  Nothing.

  He told himself not to worry. A million things could have delayed Nate’s arrival. He could have gotten caught up in road construction. He could have hit heavy traffic somewhere.

  A million things.

  Finally, at three-thirty, Nate pulled into the driveway.

  Creed let out a sigh of relief, started his car and drove slowly down the block to make it look like he’d just arrived as well. He couldn’t help but take a moment to admire Nate’s lean physique as he crawled out of his car and stretched. Creed loved the easy, almost graceful way Nate moved. Working side by side with Nate was going to be torture-delicious torture.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Nate said with a smile when Creed pulled into the driveway.

  “No worries,” Creed said, offering his hand. “Good to see you again.”

  Reaching out, Nate shook his hand. Creed experienced that same almost overwhelming feeling of connection when they touched. He wasn’t sure if Nate felt it but he certainly hoped so.

  Nine: Working Together

  “So, what’s the plan?” Creed asked, following Nate up onto the deep porch.

  Two white rockers with a small table between them sat nearby as if expecting someone to come home any moment.

  “Well-,” Nate began as he slid the key into the lock. He turned it and pushed the door open.

  To Creed, everything looked exactly as
it had when they’d been there before. But he was very aware of the same feeling he’d had before in that house. It was stronger now, welcoming them back. He watched closely to see if Nate noticed it. When it appeared that he didn’t, Creed elected to stay quiet.

  “I guess our first order of business is to find out just how much trouble we’re in,” Nate said, finishing his sentence. He smiled at Creed over his shoulder.

  Creed smiled back. The spirit or whatever it was hovered over them, danced alongside as he followed Nate down the narrow hall toward what he remembered to be the kitchen.

  When they reached the cluttered kitchen, Nate stopped and turned. Holding up one hand, he took a deep breath. “We need to talk about something first.”

  “Okay,” Creed said, his anxiety creeping upward again. He just didn’t think he could take any more bad news.

  “I quit my job this morning,” Nate said.

  Creed gasped in surprise. “At the Sentinel?”

  Nate nodded. “I’ll tell you more about that later but I just wanted you to know. Wanted to be up front with you about everything.”

  “So, you’ll be staying here at the house?” Creed asked.

  Again, Nate nodded. “I’ve put a little money aside but I don’t need to be spending it on a motel room when there’s a perfectly good house right here. I brought an air mattress to use for sleeping until we get the place in some sort of order.”

  “Okay,” Creed said, wondering why Nate was telling him all of this.

  Nate took a deep breath, looked away, looked back. “Bottom line is I can’t afford to pay you much for your help.”

  Creed began to grin.

  “What?”

  “How about room and board?” Creed asked.

  “What?”

  Now it was Creed’s turn to come clean, lay it all out on the table. If Nate was going to be completely honest with him, who was he to pretend everything was just fine with his life.

  “I had a pretty eventful morning myself,” Creed began, no hesitation. “I was evicted from my apartment. As of now, I’m homeless.”