horseboykarl: (karl sad)
Éomer: As soon as Théo is on the bike and away, I call for Karl, worried now that it is time for him to come back. I hope that we did not cause difficulties for him. Karl

Karl: Éomer sounds more anxious than usual when he calls me to come back. Karl, Eric was here last night. He saw us. I freeze at that news, my heart hammering. "What happened?"

He was spying on us, and Théo captured him. I curse and he hastens to reassure me. We did not harm him, but I introduced myself to him. I thought it would be all right, knowing that your aunt knows who I am. His mental tone is miserable and I swallow the shout that is gathering in my throat. "Was it?"

I do not know if he believed us, but he was calmer when he left here. I sigh, raking a hand through my hair. This really isn't his fault, he couldn't have known that I still haven't told my lover the truth. Much as I want to blame him for it, I can't.

He eases away and I grab my helmet and keys, running back to get my cell phone. I try to reach him, but he's not picking up. He's probably still at the store at this hour, knowing I wasn't supposed to get back until later. As I lean my bike into the curves, I try to think of a way to explain why I've been lying and to explain what the truth actually is, when I don't understand it half the time. Shit, he's had a whole day to think about it, to get madder at me.

I wish Éomer would have called me last night . . . )
horseboykarl: (Karl loves NZ)
The day dawns slightly overcast, and that is fine with me, the fish always bite better on cloudy days. I got most of my gear together last night, but I double check that I have everything. I was thrilled when Bernard called and proposed this camping trip with him and John. Anytime I can escape away with Bernard is a good time, and well, I haven’t spent that much time with John, but I’m looking forward to the trip with him, cause he’s always seemed like a great guy.

Ire is watching my every move. “What did I forget, boy?” It’s always something, hopefully something minor this time. He wags his tail, he knows something’s up and when I get out the camping gear, he knows he’s invited. “Let’s see . . . sleeping bag . . . tent . . . dog food . . . fishing rod . . . tackle . . . oh, wait, I bought that new spinner bait I planned to try . . . where did I put it?” I locate the lure and resume my catalogue. Lanterns, beer, cooler, food in case we aren’t successful. Oh, yes, dry clothes. Not a real camping trip without at least one rainstorm.

I start loading the truck and as I’m coming back in the house for another pile, I hear the phone ringing. It’s Bernard with bad news.

“No, mate, that’s totally fine, I understand. . . I’ll miss you, but these things can’t be helped . . . the trip? . . . no, it’s alright, we can go when you get back . . . yeah, I don’t mind going with John by myself . . . did you talk to him? . . . all right, I’ll call him when I’m ready to leave . . . take care of yourself, mate.”

I put the phone down, feeling badly for Bernard, feeling bad for myself, and then feeling bad because of that.

You’re a daft bugger, Urban. Just relax, you don’t have to feel the weight of the world.

But I’m glad that the trip isn’t cancelled, I was really looking forward to getting away for a bit.

Last thing I load is Ire’s travel kennel, and with a command, “Up, boy,” he’s in and we’re on our way. I call John on the cell to get directions to his place. )

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horseboykarl

February 2011

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