Reunion

Hank has always had sensitive hearing. When he was young and serving time in jail after stealing some booze from a convenience store, his fellow inmates would always count on him to signal when the guards left their vicinity at night so they could sneak out. He would cup his ear against the metal bars and listen for their footsteps until they stepped out of the department. When he grew older, Hank grew a strange affinity for guitar, using his hearing to his advantage as his solos captured the attention of his audiences at house parties. Hank heaved a sigh as he remembered his life experiences. But now, his exceptional hearing has become a burden to him. Every night before he goes to sleep he contemplates supergluing ear plugs straight into his head. Whether it’s the shuffle of his clothes against the bed or his dog Patchy scratching his face, long claws tapping against the wooden floor in torturing monotony, Hank continues to wonder why his almost supernatural senses never bothered him before. Maybe it’s because he grew out of his party animal phase. Either way, he’s one more night from developing insomnia.

He’d spent the last week with a grogginess that made him envy early birds like no other, and today was no exception. Hank forced himself to spend the day at the mall. He’s been wanting new pairs of socks, the only other pair having been soiled by Patchy’s new designated bathroom near his potted plant, and he did not want to have to go to the laundry every other day. Maybe he could find some noise cancelling headphones too. He parked his car and strided through the sliding doors, tilting his head up towards the upper floors decorated with shops and restaurants that filled his pale blue eyes with wonderful color. How long has it been since he’s been in a mall? He discretely looked down at his grease stained shirt that lasted him over 10 years and wore a face of mild disgust. He mentally added t-shirts to his shopping list. Hank spent the next few hours looking for new clothes, ones that fit him and don’t smell like a week old unrefrigerated pie.

He found a unique delight in sifting through the graphic t-shirts of his favorite bands, plastered with a cheeky grin as he swayed a bag full of Metallica shirts when he heard a distant rattling. Hank stopped dead in his steps as he tried to discern what the sound was, speed-walking out into the food court as the stores around him began pulling down their shutters. The overhead chandeliers scattered throughout the mall flickered off one by one until Hank was left in a darkness that shook his frail bones. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out the fuzzy shapes that filled his view until at last he saw a security guard walking in the distance with a flashlight. Hank pressed forward, waving his hands in the air with a loud “Hey! I need help! I’m stuck here!”

The security guard hastily walked closer to him, jerking his flashlight in Hank’s eyes with keen precision. Hank quickly turned away at the brightness when he saw the guard stop a good 20 feet away before he made a quick u-turn in the opposite direction. Hank couldn’t be more confused as he continued to call after him, picking up the pace as the guard began to sprint away. “Don’t ignore me, I just want to leave! Hey!” Hank yelled with increasing frustration. The guard swiftly turned down another hallway as Hank was beginning to catch up, but as Hank turned the same corner, he was gone. He let out an incredulous laugh as he shook his head. “This is getting ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re pulling, but it’s really starting to piss me off.” Hank stared down the dim hallway. No answer. He held his arms out hoping he didn’t run into anything, almost tip-toeing down the hallway in discrete caution. That’s when he heard a rustle to his right, twisting his head towards the noise. Gotcha. He speedwalked towards the noise, nearly stumbling over a bench when he tackled the guard to the ground. The guard struggled to escape from the older man’s grasp as Hank grabbed the flashlight and turned it on him, revealing a familiar face.

Hank’s eyes widened in surprise as he took in the guard’s features, gruff and troubled and all too reminiscent of a fellow inmate back in jail. “Steve!” Hank exclaimed. “What the hell have you been doing all this time? Now as a damn guard, no less?” Steve pushed Hank off him as he stood up and immediately began combing his hair with his fingers. He slipped on and adjusted his cap before brushing off any dust that had possibly accumulated on his uniform. Hank watched in delight as he saw that his old friend is still as grumpy and organized as ever. “After I was released from jail, I was left without a cent in my pocket,” Steve sighed. “I dabbled with some sketchy part time jobs in order to make ends meet, but I settled on being a mall cop instead. It pays well and I’m strapped for cash right now.” Hank placed his hand behind his head as he gave Steve an awkward look. “Wow. I had no idea you were struggling this much. Well, that still doesn’t explain why you ran away the moment you saw me.” Steve looked away as his cheeks flushed. “I… didn’t want you to see me become the type of guy I used to run away from.”

Hank stared for a long moment before erupting into laughter. “I could care less about that, Steve! Listen. I know how easily prison can become a personal hell for someone. But, it looks like you came out pretty okay. That’s all that matters,” Hank says, putting a stern hand on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve felt his face turn beet red as he pinched his nose. He couldn’t help but grin at Hank’s heartfelt comment. Hank always knew how to make Steve feel at ease. At prison Hank would be the only person able to deal with Steve’s extreme tidiness, and the only one capable of calming him down from his fits of rage. Steve would never tell Hank this, but he feels relieved having him at his side again. “Thanks,” Steve mumbled.

Hank gave a light chuckle. “Hey, why don’t you crash at my place tonight? It’d be nice having company other than Patchy, and we could catch up on things. How’s that sound?”

Steve examined Hank’s expression once more. How he missed that stupid grin of his. “Sounds great,” Steve said as they walked out the mall, a fire rekindling in both their hearts.