Chapter 4
Brody woke from a fitful sleep soaked in sweat with a dream still liquid in his head, backed by bits of more song lyrics and melody. In his mind’s eye were rows and rows of corn, rows and rows of green, with tufts of yellow silk catching the breeze as it drifted over the plains. Had he ever been to the Midwest? Maybe as a kid? Was this a dream or a memory? Whatever it was had him in a back of pickup truck sitting on bales of hay, chewing on a stalk of it, the taste if it still in his mouth as he woke.
As he grew more awake, his lucid mind rationalized the scenario to fill in the blanks. There were other kids around him in the back of that pickup. Maybe it was a hayride for Halloween? A tarp thrown over them when it got too dark and cold. And teenagers taking advantage of the cover to do what teenagers do. The wandering hands and hot breath under that tarp lead to other morning thoughts that Brody quickly pushed away.
“In a room by myself
Looks like I’m here with the guy that I judge worse than anyone else
So I pace, and I pray, and I repeat the mantras that might keep me clean for the day.”