A Beautiful Day

Dusty was worn out. He hadn’t worked this many days in a row since he couldn’t remember when. He shut down his excavator for the day and walked back to his truck. He kicked his boots against the running board to knock some mud off. Didn’t work too well. As he climbed in, his foot slid out from under him and he smacked his side on the running board and fell into the mud. 

When he got home he noticed Chad’s truck parked on the street out front. Chad drove semi-truck sometimes, fixed up cars sometimes, cut down and trimmed trees sometimes. A guy that made his living in different ways, but seemed to somehow never be working. He was also Dusty’s best friend. Chad came outside while Dusty was walking up the cracked, uneven sidewalk to his front door. 

“Oh, hey Dusty, how was work?” he said in a suspiciously normal voice. 

Chad should’ve said, “Hey you ugly son of a bitch,” or something like that. Since when did Chad ask him how his day was? It reminded Dusty of something his dad always told him: never tell another man good morning. It makes a guy uncomfortable. 

Chad gave him a forced smile, and it seemed to Dusty that he unintentionally betrayed a slyness. His face flushed under Dusty’s gaze and then he said he’s gotta get going. “Gotta get dinner ready for the kids,” Chad said, and off he went. Dusty didn’t reply, just stood there and watched him get in his truck and drive off. Then he went in to talk to Nadine. 

“Nadine, god dammit, what was Chad doing here?”

“Well, nice to see you too honey. How was work?” 

“Don’t. Answer my question.”

“He was looking for you. But he ended up helping me hang the new drapes. I know that sounds funny but it's the honest to God truth. Look at the drapes.” 

Dusty couldn’t help but laugh. How ridiculous. I guess they did hang the drapes. What a load.

“He came over here looking for you,” she continued, “but you’ve been working so much later than normal lately. He’s used to you being home earlier."

Dusty studied her face.

"Don’t look at me like that.”

“What's for dinner?” Dusty asked, and flashed a grin.

At work the next day he was trying to let it go. He trusted both of them. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. He couldn’t stop thinking about it though. He was behind schedule on this job, digging out the foundation for a new hotel. On top of that he was driving an hour both ways every day, and with the long hours and the commute he knew Nadine was getting fed up. And then there was the damn credit cards. He tried not to bring it up anymore. They always ended up in the damndest fights over that. He liked providing for her, and she did keep a nice house. She was old fashioned and he liked that. But she never learned how to control her spending. Clothes, clothes, clothes. Seemed like she made a trip to goodwill or the consignment store multiple times a week, and there’s still more clothes than she could ever wear. Meanwhile he’s had the same damn overalls for the last five years that are covered in colorful patches and grease and trans fluid and oil. Ah well, he thought. No sense worrying right now. It was too easy to drift off like this while you’re diggin these holes. 

He decided he was gonna go home early today. It was beautiful out, and he’d spent the last two weeks worth of beautiful days sitting in a cab digging up dirt. Besides, being a foreman had to have some privileges, right? This decision got him daydreaming again, pleasantly this time. Thinking about where he was gonna fish when he got off, how he was gonna give Chad a call and see if he’d wanna go along. He tried not to keep checking the time, because boy was it just crawlin today. 

He had the windows down and the radio up on his way home. He decided to cruise by the campus of the local university and indulge in a favorite pastime of his: leering. His truck had a custom horn he was very proud of. It could do ice cream truck music, it could do the General Lee’s Dixie horn, it even had a speaker he could talk through. He saw a young woman on a bike and as he drove by thought it’d be a good idea to say through the speaker “boy, I’d like to be that bike seat.” This induced a wave of second hand embarrassment among the witnesses. It even caused one mild hearted student to give up on venturing into the world that day, and the young man went back to his dorm to contemplate things. 

Dusty swung by the McDonald’s and got a big mac and a chocolate shake. His truck tires were so big and his truck lifted so high that when he used the drive-thru he had to park a little ways out from the building, hop out to pay then climb back in and do the same at the pickup window. He didn’t mind though. He loved the way those tires screamed once you got over fifty mile an hour and you could no longer hear anything else, not the radio, not your thoughts, not the wind if you had the windows down, and not Nadine when she was riding with him. He also loved how loud his exhaust was. He’d cut the muffler off himself years ago when he first bought the truck, just cut it with a sawzall above the catalytic converter then welded a straight pipe on. Every once in awhile somebody’d call him in for a noise complaint if he was doing burnouts late at night, but that was all worth it to him. It was just the price you pay for having a cool truck. 

He stopped off to look at the river and eat. Wanted to see how dirty the water was, if fishin’d be any good. It looked very brown and dirty, still too high, so he decided to wait on calling Chad until he could think of a better place to go. He’d think it over on the drive and call him then. Words came out of the radio and Dusty sang:

I brought it on myself and I guess that I shouldn't complain

Doc said, "Son, you can't do anymore of that cocaine"

But she made me higher than all of those expensive things

He pulled onto his street when he realized he’d forgotten to call Chad. Oh well, he’d do it at home. He pulled in the driveway. Nadine’s car was there, but that was all. He walked through the front door and called out “Honey, I’m home!” She didn’t answer, but he thought he heard shuffling and voices. He walked through the kitchen up to the hallway and looked around the corner, watching and listening. Yeah, he heard something. Well, Dusty knew it was Chad. He must’ve parked in the alley. Dusty stormed back there and Nadine tried to shut the bedroom door as he got to it but he just shouldered right through and knocked her backwards and walked straight up to the closet door and yanked it open. Sure enough. Chad. Dusty grabbed him by the neck and spun and flung him onto the bed. Then Dusty went for the handgun he keeps in the top drawer of his dresser. Chad knew though. By the time Dusty was about to turn around and use it, he felt the blade slip in between ribs just below his right shoulder blade. His hand still gripped the gun. Chad pulled the knife out as Dusty twisted with gun in hand and Chad drove it home again, aiming for the heart this time. Dusty didn't have the strength to raise and aim but he was gonna make damn sure he emptied that gun before he was dead. As he fell backwards he pointed it in Chad's direction and squeezed the trigger as many times as he could. Bullets hit the floor, the window, Chad's stomach. One shattered the light cover on the ceiling fan, which must not have been installed well. This bullet knocked it loose, and when it fell with its jagged glass it came down on Chad, sending him to the floor. They died there, in a pool of each other's blood.