Chapter 11

Timmy never woke for dinner. He kept right on sleeping, all through the day, and all through the night. He had gone to bed hearing guitars, and he woke hearing Will's amazing playing the next morning. He lay there listening, and while he listened, he took stock of how he felt.

He realized his bug was slightly better, if not yet gone, although his hearing was still not up to par. He had two days of antibiotics under his belt, and a good amount of rest to help him knock the illness. On the other hand, he felt a little heartsick. Will was, in a word, gorgeous, but he was really messed up with this Jesus stuff. Timmy told himself that he should stay away from Will, but his heart told him to go for it. He pushed his conflicting emotions away, and got up.

He stumbled into the kitchen area. One end of the room, the interior end, held the kitchen sink and drain board, the stove and refrigerator, and the doorway. The other end was faced with huge windows, and contained a small round table with four chairs. That end was divided from the adjoining living room by a wall with a large waist high opening for about half the wall. The opening was lined with a wide wooden shelf as its sill, creating a counter. Will, playing his guitar, was perched on a tall wooden stool, with his sheet music propped open before him on the counter.

When Timmy came into the kitchen, Will stumbled in his playing, then recovered. Timmy was careful to ignore Will. He put some water on to boil, planning to make coffee, and noticed Will glance at his actions. When he pulled out the can of grounds, Will stopped playing mid-stream.

"No, no coffee," Will said.

"What?" Timmy asked, dumbfounded.

"You can't make coffee," Will declared.

"Why not?" Timmy asked, peeved.

"We went over that yesterday," reminded Will.

"You said you didn't drink coffee," argued Timmy. "You didn't say anything about me having coffee."

"Yeah, well, I'm saying it now," Will stated. "No coffee."

"But ... but ... I live here, too, it's my place, too," whined Timmy.

"Damn it!" Will caught himself, looked guilty. "I mean, darn it. Ok, ok, just don't drink it when I'm here." He slammed the sheet music closed, and jumped off the stool. He went out of the kitchen and into his room, shutting his door firmly behind him.

"Fuck!" thought Timmy to himself. Not only had he messed up with Will, he would also have to find the money to buy a cup of coffee somewhere else. Here he was with his own place, and he couldn't even make a simple cup of coffee. He wished Will would go to church or something so he could drink his coffee in peace. Not knowing if Will would leave, and not daring to ask him if he was going out anywhere, Timmy went into the living room and started looking for loose change. He figured Will had brought on Timmy's minor thievery because of his weird beliefs. Timmy looked down through the couch and chair cushions, and on the floor. He found 85¢. That brought his total funds to a dollar. Will had a container on the coffee table that held some change, but Timmy hated taking any money from such an obvious source. However, thinking a cup of coffee in this small town might cost more than what he had, he went ahead and took two quarters from Will's change. He rationalized Will wouldn't even notice it being gone.

Timmy found a tiny little diner about a half block away from the apartment. To his delight, coffee was only 75¢ with free refills. Donuts were a quarter. Taking his time, he dawdled over the meal that was, for him, a huge breakfast. He even had enough to leave two bits change for a tip.

Somewhat nervous, he went back to the apartment after eating to find Will's door still closed. He didn't know if Will was in there. Timmy showered and put on fresh clothing, then washed his dirty laundry in the sink using his bar of bath soap. He found some hangers in the hall closet, and used them to dangle his wet things in the shower. Afterwards, it was still too early to do anything, so he decided to zone out by watching some television. Timmy changed his mind when he found only religious programming. Still no sign of Will. There were a few books on the shelves next to Will's records. Picking one more or less at random, Timmy tried reading. He loved reading, actually, but this book turned out to be a religious tract cloaked as a silly romance. Throwing it down on the couch in disgust, Timmy looked at the clock.

Shew! It was late enough that by the time he hitched to the main town, Carrie Nation's should be open. He always knew how to get some scheme going at Nation's. He jumped up and bounded down the stairs without further thought, not even locking the door.