Page 63 of Something Like Hail

Harold shrugged. “I’m always up for a goodroad trip. Moms love me. Wait and see. I’ll have her eating out ofmy hand. Literally. It’s going to be disgusting. You’ll loveit.”

The image made Noah laugh, and even thoughHarold’s eyes were twinkling, he remained serious.

“I mean it. Let’s dothis!”

The idea of being shut in a car with him forten hours, roundtrip, had its own appeal. “Maybe someday,” Noahconceded.

“Not someday.Today.”

Noah was very glad he had stopped eating orHarold’s face would be covered in egg and toast right now. “Today?”he spluttered.

Harold’s shoulders rose and fell again. “Whynot?”

“We have clients.” Althoughno assignment had come yet. Marcello had probably assumed theywould be too lost in the afterglow.

“I can get us another twodays off. If money’s tight for you, don’t worry about it. I’ll payfor everything, and I’ll make sure Marcello gives you a generoustipper for your next date. At the very least, it would be cool tosee where you come from.”

How could he resist that? Noah consideredthe quickly cooling eggs on his plate. Then he lifted his fork tofinish them off, but before doing so, he gave his answer.

“Okay.”

* * * * *

Heaven couldn’t be a very large place,because somehow they had managed to squeeze it all into a maroonChrysler Sebring. The route wasn’t scenic. In fact, the landscapeseemed to grow more desolate the farther west they traveled, but itdidn’t matter because they were together. Even the radio stayed offfor most of the trip. Instead they talked, telling stories fromtheir respective pasts, such as the time Harold had lost all butone of his front teeth, just in time for school photos. The otherkids had called him Fang for months and months, and when his teethfinally grew back and the nickname was all but forgotten, theyearbook came out and reminded everyone.

“Istillrun into people who call meFang,” Harold said. “This was grade school! Ages ago. I wouldn’tmind if it was a sexier nickname like Muscles or PoundCake.”

Noah snorted. “Pound Cake?”

“Sure! It’s sort of likeCherry Pie but manlier.”

“Meaning your cake getspounded a lot.”

“No, more like I have areputation for doing the pounding!”

Noah shook his head ruefully. “Yeah, I can’timagine why a bunch of first graders hadn’t thought of that. Iguess they didn’t realize what a stud you were.”

“Must be it,” Harold saidapprovingly. Then he smiled, which he did a lot, not that Noah evergot sick of it. He still reacted like it was the first time. Infact, he decided his goal was to make Harold smile as often aspossible, so he told the story of when he had tried to keep a wildanimal as a pet.

“I was bored out of my mindone day,” he said, “walking around the farm when I found a hornytoad.”

“Horny toad?” Haroldsnorted. “Is this going to be a Marcello-style story?”

Noah rolled his eyes. “You know what Imean.”

“I reallydon’t.”

“A horny toad? Oh fine. Iget it. You want the proper name. I found a horned lizard.” Noahscoffed when Harold still looked blank. “City boy. Horny toadsaren’t toads at all. They look like little dinosaurs. Here.” He dida search on his phone and held up a photo for him tosee.

“Wow! It’s like aprehistoric iguana!”

“Exactly. I named mine Mr.Snickers. He lived in our barn.”

“Is that how you lured himthere?” Harold asked. “With a pile of Snickers?”

“No. I simply picked him upand carried him. They aren’t very big. I did have to feed himthough, so I transplanted a colony of fire ants to the barn.Obviously! I called him Mr. Snickers because I used to practice mystandup routine with him and, in my imagination at least, he wasalways laughing at my jokes.”

“I didn’t realize thatyou’re into comedy. I mean, you’re funny but, uh—”