Dust Trail Blues character interviews and a sale...

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Do you like drifters? Do you enjoy seeing what can be made out of gears and springs and other scrap parts? Do you like blackberry ice cream, angst and a hint of mystery. If so, this might be the book for you.

https://www.amazon.com/Dust-Trail-Blues-Layla-Dorine-ebook/dp/B0BKGWF38D?ref_=ast_sto_dp

Good evening Jude. I’m sorry to intrude on your down time but I thought it might be best to catch you now rather than first thing in the morning the way I caught your brother, which he was none too pleased about, might I add.

Heh, yeah, that’s Justice for you. He’ll be the first one to suggest an early opening time and in the same breath express his annoyance with anyone who asks him for anything before ten. If you ask me, it would have been far easier to shift our operating houses from 10-6 than to subject the public to Justice’s grumpy moods first thing in the morning.

So, it wasn’t just me.

Nope, though you probably struck a nerve with that final question you asked him.

Hey, inquiring minds and all that. Now lets shift gears a moment and talk about Nash and finding him on the road the day his bike broke down.

Oh man, it scared the hell outta me, to be honest. I thought he was dead. The way he was slumped over against the rock, I really figured I was about to run up on a corpse. When he lifted his head and looked at me, I was equal parts relieved and shocked that anyone could be that flushed and yet not be sweating up a storm, but I’d later learn that was all part of the condition he suffers from.

So, you offer him water, which he guzzles and promptly throws back up, and you help him into your tow truck which very well could have left you both stranded on the road the way it was running, and you head down the road. What I’m wondering is why not take him to town or directly to the hospital rather than taking him home, knowing how your brother feels about strangers.

His bike was busted and we run a salvage yard, it just seemed logical to take him home, let him cool off and hydrate, and then help him find the parts he needed for his bike. I didn’t realize at the time that it was a UK made bike and an older model to boot which would make the parts extra difficult to find, especially in the twisted mess of our salvage yard, though he did manage to find a few.

I take it you’re not a motorcycle guy.

Nope, not a car guy either. As long as a vehicle gets me from point A to point B without leaving me on the side of the road to hitchhike my way back home again, then I don’t need to know anything more about it.

Something tells me that if your brother knew about the whole hitchhiking thing he’d go through the roof.

Yeah and bury me under the back porch when he came back down which is why I never told him. Besides, it only happened twice and both times I got picked up by someone we knew, so no harm, no foul.

Until he sees this interview.

There is that, can we maybe, leave the whole hitchhiking part out.

Nope, can’t do it, I’m kind of like a traffic cop with a parking ticket, once I start writing there’s no undoing it.

Joy. He was right, you are a cruel and merciless creator.

Maybe. But at least I amuse myself. 

Good morning, Justice and thank you for agreeing to sit down with me today.

I’d have loved to do this interview a little later in the day.

I’m sure. Well there is a freshly brewed pot of coffee if you’d like some.

Why didn’t you say that in the first place?

For someone used to getting up early in the morning, you’re far grouchier about it than I expected.

Shouldn’t I be? You’re grouchy in the morning, everyone you live with is grouchy in the morning, hell, everyone you know is grouchy in the morning. Don’t you always tell people that you base all of us characters on people you know?

Yes, but…

Well then you can’t really expect any of us to be balls of sunshine in the morning, now can you?

Point taken. Shall we move on?”

Yeah, we can do that. This is good coffee by the way.

Thanks. So tell me about your reaction when Jude pulled up in the two truck with a motorcycle on the back and a perfect stranger in the cab beside him. Looking back, do you think that maybe you were a bit harsh under the circumstances?

No.

Care to elaborate?

Yeah, as long as you don’t mind me answering a question with a question. How would feel if one of your kids showed up on your doorstep with a dusty stranger and a busted up old motorcycle?

Curious, but then, I love old bikes and would jump at the opportunity to help work on one. As for the stranger, well, considering he looked about as lively as a wrung out dish rag, I’d like to think I’d have been cautious, but welcoming.

Goody for you. I’ve been looking out for Jude since we were kids. I’ve seen all of the impulsive shit he’s gotten into and the aftermath too. In that instance, I couldn’t help but feel like he was being gullible and we were about to be taken advantage of. You watch true crime shows, you’ve seen how it works. The good Samaritan who pulls over to help a stranded motorist and ends up getting car jacked, beaten, robbed or killed. The concerned individual who, out of the goodness of their heart, invites the down on their luck drifter to stay with them for a couple days, and ends up murdered in their bed. There’s a lot of good people in the world, I know this. But there are plenty of bad, too, and I for one would like to make it through the rest of this lifetime without becoming a statistic.

Fair enough, but if you felt so strongly about it, why not have Jude drive him into town, drop him off somewhere and be done with it. Or do it yourself if you were so worried about your brother? In the end, you let him in and offered him the couch to sleep on and you were the one, not 24 hours later, who made the decision to let him stay with you guys until he could get that bike back on the road.

I’m also the one who went ahead and did a background check too, don’t forget.

True.

Look, by the time he got done cooling off in the shower and getting dressed, he was shaking, bad, so I sat him on the couch and went to prep some sides for dinner. By the time Jude came home with the food, he’d passed out. He was pale, and when I tried to wake him so he could get some food in him, he didn’t even twitch not one little bit. Now, I can’t say that I slept so soundly that night. I spent half of it listening for signs of him moving around downstairs, poking into things, and there wasn’t a peep. Not even a creek of floorboards to suggest that he got up to use the bathroom, and that backpack of his that I brought in for him, well, you can be damn sure I searched it for weapons before I left it in the bathroom for him.

Kind of figured. So are you implying that getting a peek at some of his ink had nothing to do with your change of heart.

Did I say that?

No.

Then don’t imply things I didn’t say. The ink had me curious, no doubt, but the conversation we had in the office that following day helped a great deal too. So did all the things I learned about him through the background check. The things he didn’t say.

Understandable. He does tend to play his cards a bit close to the vest.

As outdated as that saying is, it’s especially true of him when we’re playing cards. Not only that but I’ve yet to figure out any of his tells and he can bluff with the best of them. I enjoy the challenge of playing with him and he’s added a new dynamic to the game.

So, if I was to paraphrase a line from one of my favorite novels, which would he be. Someone who goes, or someone who stays?

The jury is still out on that.

And you?

What? Going or staying? A year ago that would be easy to answer. Staying. Always.

And now?

At the very least my eyes have been opened to the possibility that there might be things away from here that I would enjoy seeing or doing. But this will always be home. I’m just coming to see that I don’t have to live in it fore the rest of my days for that to be the case. I don’t have any plans at the moment to go any further than Virginia, but my mind is more open to the possibility than ever before, and I’ve even begun poking around the internet, looking at photos and checking places out.

I’d be curious to see what comes of it.

You and me both.  

Now that some time has passed since Nash’s arrival and a few things in your life have settled down as much as they can in a small town like yours, what’s next?

No clue, but there won’t be a dull moment, that’s for certain. Honestly though, the possibilities are limited only by the imagination.  There’s a salvage yards full of parts and pieces and a stream of ideas that some days more closely resembles a flood. I’ve been getting better at writing them down when they come and it makes for some good conversation around the supper table each night.

That’s always good to hear.

So are we all set?

Just one more, question, if you don’t mind.  

Fine, but let me refill my coffee cup first.

Better?

Much.

What’s the deal with you and that challenger? You came up with some pretty intriguing ideas involving it and a particular someone in various stages of undress.  How did that all work out for you?

And on that note, you can consider this interview over.

Good morning, Nash, please tell me you’re a morning person ort this conversation is about to get off to a really rough start.

Naa, it’s all good, I don’t mind morning’s as much as some people I know. *snickers*

Yeah, I’ve already gotten an earful and a half from him about starting the interview so early and not telling him the moment he arrived that there was coffee ready.

It’s okay, he kind of needs to cut down on caffeine anyway. His blood pressure is high enough.

You should try slipping him some decaf. Just pour out most of the coffee grinds in the can and replace them with decaf, give the can a good shake to mix them all together and slowly wean him off the high octane stuff that way.

And when he figures it out, and you know he will, who’s going to keep him from burying me under the shop.

Well, when you put it that way, perhaps it isn’t the best way to insure one’s personal safety.

Exactly. So, why are you dragging us all back out, anyway. Stories over, fade to black and all that dramatic shit. Notebook neatly tucked away in a box with the others and out storyboard taken down. You didn’t decide to write a sequel, did you?

And if I did?

Makes no difference to me, I’ll come out and play whenever, but um, wanna do me a favor this time?

Depends.

Okay, well, if there are anymore scary shit to be found, wanna let someone else find it?

I’ll think about, now can you stop sidetracking the interview and let me actually ask a question?

You still haven’t told me why you dragged us all back out here to play.

I thought it would be fun to talk to you each one on one and introduce you to the public, ya snarky brat.

Oh, well, in that case, hello reader-verse, I’m Nash, the character Layla took great pleasure in tormenting through a large chunk of Dust Trail Blues.

To be fair, you did sort of bring a lot of it on yourself.

Hey, isn’t this breaking the forth wall.

No, it’s blowing it up, now can we get on with it?

Okay, okay, sheesh, ask what you’re going to ask so we can get this over with, I haven’t even had breakfast yet.

Don’t you start too, or I swear, not only will I write a sequel, but I will set it during a record heat wave and make sure the air conditioner in the shop dies three pages in.

Are you seriously trying to kill me?

At the moment, no, but it can be arranged if you keep on pushing your luck.

Fine, I’ll behave, alright, see this is me behaving, ask me anything you’d like.

Okay, have you been keeping a journal of your overheating incidents like Luke asked or did it go in one ear and out the other again.

Okay, anything but that.

Uh-huh, pretty sure you can expect a phone call from him the moment this goes live.

Gee, thanks.

Well, learn to listen and you wouldn’t have these issues.

Question…please.

Okay, were you seriously contemplating heading up to Alaska, or was that all just the melodrama and woe is me mess kicking in.

I still want to see Alaska. Maybe it’ll be a vacation trip or something. I just think it would be nice to be able to spend time outdoors without having to limit myself to particular hours or weather conditions, you know. And yeah, if things hadn’t worked out the way they had, then maybe. Or at least Maine. I hear it’s beautiful up there too, and mercifully cold a good chunk of the year.

What’s the coldest place you’ve lived since leaving Virginia?

Pennsylvania and Ohio. Holy crap it was awesome up there in the winter. Snow, ice, I could go hiking or wonder down a trail for three out of the four seasons.

So why leave?

Cost of living, mostly, I moved out of two different places in the same year because the landlords there raised the rent.

You know the secret to getting around that, right?

Yeah, yeah, my Gram has said the same things about a billion times. Get a better job, one where I can put my talents to good use and get paid top dollar for the things I create.

Exactly.

There’s more to life than money you know.

An argument that’s difficult to make when you’re strapping your stuff to the back of your Triumph in late November so you can move it into your new apartment before the snowstorm hits.

Good point. Moving on now.

Okay, tell me about the goats.

What about them?

Do you get along with them better now or are you still worried about one of them launching you into the next county.

The goats and I have reached a tentative truce. I give them a wide berth and refrain from discussing the ingredients in Mediterranean Goat Casserole in their presence and they grant me safe passage through the salvage yard.

Uh-huh, so, if you give them such a wide berth, why were you brushing goat feed dust off your jeans when you first came in? Admit it, they’ve grown on you.

Nope.

I’m pretty sure those are brown, tan and black goat hairs clinging to your right t-shirt.

Okay, so the kids are cute. But once they get their horns, forget it. I’ve got no interest in being turned into shish kabobs by one of the ornery things.

Well I see one thing hasn’t changed.

Yeah, and what’s that?

You’re unwillingness to admit you were wrong about something. The goats are awesome, aren’t they, come on, you can say it, the goats are awesome, which was why you were rolling a soccer ball to some of them early this morning when you went out to help Justice with their feed. And I could swear I saw you sitting in the shade of a magnolia just last night, one of the new kids sleeping across you where you were doodling away in that sketchbook of yours.

Okay, okay, you win! The goats are adorable. Even the ones with massive horns. There. I said it. Happy now.

Very.