?Running With Scissors ?

?c h a p t e r 02?

The man moves in a way that I interpret as a nod and Larry gets to work.

I bring him to what looks like the sturdier of all the tables and take a seat. He looks at me skeptically, like he's waiting for me to laugh at him but when I don't he slides in the bench across from me. We sit awkwardly without speaking for a few painful minutes. I hate that I can't come up with a conversation starter. I mean, I do it for a living but right now I'm drawing a blank.

He doesn't smile or talk and I have yet see him blink. Maybe he's a robot!

Stop being dramatic.

"So." I mumble. He looks at me but doesn't move or talk; he might not even speak English.

Then it won't matter what you say.

"I'm sorry about what my client said. She doesn't know anything about you and had no right to judge but I guess people are like that sometimes." I say honestly.

Silence.

"I'm Constance by the way. What's your name?"

More silence.

So I ask him in Spanish and then again in American Sign Language just for kicks and giggles.

Still nothing.

Well this is fun. I wish I could communicate with him to apologize about the girl and me and just the whole situation but if he doesn't speak English then maybe he doesn't know that he was insulted. He still deserves an apology but maybe lunch will do.

Thankfully, Larry brings out our colossal burgers and I instantly forget about trying to communicate with the statue in front of me. It's overflowing with carbs, fat, meat and everything bad in this world and I live for it! I push the bun down so I can fit the whole thing in at once. With each bite, I moan into the bun like it's the best thing in the world and in all honesty, it might be. Being half starved, I basically unhinge my jaw and swallow my food in six bites.

Just like everyday, it's perfect.

I lick my fingers, nibbling off every last morsel when I hear a grunt from my otherwise silent companion. When I look at my new friend, his face is priceless. His eyebrows are so high, they might as well be dangling above his hat.

"What?" I shrug. "I have a healthy appetite."

No response.

His face goes back to its neutral look as he takes his first bite. He eats much slower than I do and has no emotional response. I half expected him to moan like I did but I guess he's not as into food as me.

I take this time to look him over.

There's a black smudge across his cheek, probably oil. It's possible that he got that from laying with his head on the dirty concrete. His hands are large and manly but his nails are over grown and have a good amount of something under them. Besides being knotted, his beard is curling right at the collar bone and his long dark hair is even longer than his beard. I'm not sure if his skin is tan from the sun or just that dirty- probably both.

I want to help him the way I always hoped someone would have helped me. I want to clean him up if he will let me and then maybe he'll crack a smile. The only problem is we both have to trust each other because I can't take him back to the salon with Mindy stalking the place.