The Cover Age, Chapter 4

We walked for a while in silence. There’s still plenty of traffic on the roads. There are pictures in major cities of empty streets, but where I live the lockdown does not seem to have significantly impacted commutes, although a friend told me uptown the difference is noticeable. I guess local activity becomes more local in something like this. I want to compare it to vultures, but that sounds needlessly grim.

“Ah, this...ex of yours,” Clive said, he began. After a moment I realized he didn’t know how to continue.

“Yes, my evil ex,” I said. “Joking. Mostly. He’s my ex. He’s supposed to sound bad. But the thing about Oliver, the thing I loved so much and hated so much about him, was that stupid air of mystery he always projected. I used to think it was deliberate, or that he thought he was protecting me, or that he thought it made him more attractive, but...Now I wonder if it even crossed his mind. I mean, I know he felt bad about it, when he saw how it was affecting our relationship...”

“I, uh, I don’t really want to talk about your, about your relationship,” Clive said. “If that’s okay.”

“Ha,” I said. “Sure, yeah. I get it. Not really relevant, in the grand scheme.”

“Oh, it probably is,” Clive said. “I just don’t want to hear about it.”

“You know, you’re absolutely right,” I said. “There’s food trucks around town. Sounds pretty random, but that is apparently a quarantine thing. Want to stop at one?”

“Really?” Clive said.

“There’s donut trucks, pretzel trucks,” I said.

“People are getting desperate,” Clive said.

“Is that a no?” I asked.

“Hell yeah,” Clive said. “I mean, yes. Hell yes.”

Clive turned out to be charming, in the awkward kind of way. It was nice to discover.

“He lives somewhere in town?” Clive asked, while we approached a pretzel truck, after spotting a guy holding a sign across the street for it.

“Busses are free at the moment,” I said. “He lives on the north end.”

“No salt, please,” Clive said to the vendor.

“This is going to get weird, you know,” I said.

“It’s already weird,” Clive said. “All, all of it.”

“But,” I said. “It’s going to get weirder. I need you to trust me.”

“You or your evil ex?” Clive said, getting bolder, eating his unsalted pretzel.

“Both,” I said. “Probably both.”

“But mostly the evil ex,” Clive suggested.

“I regret calling him evil,” I said.

“But he is evil,” Clive said. “This isn’t going to be a cult thing, is it? I’m not into cults. I’m telling you that right now.”

“It’s not a cult thing,” I said. “Mostly. Not in the way you’re thinking, anyway. Not like that crazy church in town, defying the social distancing order. Putting our town on the map for all the wrong reasons.”

“Well, there’s also the whole Tiger King thing,” Clive said.

“People aren’t even going to remember that in ten years,” I said.

“Helps pass the time,” Clive said.

“And there’s the bus,” I said. Headed toward it, I realized I’d of course forgotten to order my own pretzel. Clive didn’t seem to have noticed. He was throwing away his wrapper as he approached. Oliver had better have a good reason for dragging him into this...