Chapter 14 - Life After Death

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"Piss off, man! I'm trying to drive here!" Vince swatted Eyeball's hand away as Eyeball laughed and had another go at putting his finger in Vince's ear.

Eyeball had been at it the whole way back to Ace's, annoying Vince from the back seat by covering his eyes or sticking his fingers in his ears or up his nose. I rolled my eyes at their childish antics but had to laugh. Eyeball sure is inventive when it comes to finding new ways to irritate his buddy. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought they were brothers. There was always this sense of sibling rivalry between them.

I wondered if Eyeball ever annoyed Chris like that.

We pulled up at Ace's at around two in the morning. I climbed out of Vince's Studebaker cold, tired and starving. Vince would be taking Eyeball home, and he offered to drop me home as well, but I didn't trust him. I thought he was more likely to drop me out in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully, Ace saved me by saying he'd take me.

"Which car are we taking?" I asked Ace as Vince and Eyeball turned out of the drive. I looked between the '49 and his '52 pickup, both parked on the front lawn.

"I'll take you later." He stepped up onto his porch and booted his front door open before going inside.

"But..." I rolled my eyes and growled, thinking nothing could be more urgent at this hour than dropping me home so I could eat and sleep.

Still, I followed him inside to see him rummaging through the fridge and stacking his arms with all sorts of produce.

"You like mushrooms?" he asked.

"Yeah..." I replied curiously.

He stacked a punnet of button mushrooms on top of his armload and then walked across the kitchen to dump it all on the bench. Out came a frying pan and a sharp knife, and soon bits of food were being thrown onto the heat.

I stood next to him, watching, slightly amazed at what I was seeing.

"You're cooking..."

"Don't be so surprised."

His knife skills were actually better than mine. He sure could dice an onion fast.

"Sorry, I just never... imagined you... doing all this."

He shrugged. "I've always cooked. It's not like I ever had a mother around to do it for me."

He tossed the pan a couple of times and soon dumped a perfect omelet onto a plate and handed it to me. "Forks in there," he pointed.

I grabbed some cutlery from the draws and then sat at his table to shovel the food into my mouth, not caring if I ate like a half-starved, feral animal. The omelet smelled amazing and tasted even better. The egg was slightly runny in the center, creating a sauce to accompany the vast number of vegetables that were swimming around my taste buds.

"You look like you're enjoying it," he said, sliding his plate onto the table before taking a seat.

"It's delicious." I finished and politely belched into my hand. "And filling. Thank you."

As I watched him eat, I kept thinking back to what he'd said about his mother. I wanted to ask – I really, badly did. I'd been curious about her since the last time she came up in conversation when Ace drove me to my old place in Hutt. But he had seemed so reluctant to talk about her that I didn't know if I should dare to ask.

"So why..." The words had been sitting so close to the end of my tongue that they fell out without my meaning to. "Sorry... don't worry."

Ace stared at me as another fork load of food disappeared into his mouth. I was sure he knew exactly what my question would have been, and I blushed, feeling embarrassed about intruding into his personal business.

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