8th of November, FRT, Empire Records
Title:8th of November
Author:Joe Reaves
Fandom:Empire Records
Pairing:Joe/Lucas
Claim: Joe Reaves
Prompt:8th of November
Word Count:4683
Rating: FRT
Warnings: Subject matter may be upsetting to some people (read the song lyrics if you're unsure).
Disclaimer: Empire Records and its characters don't belong to me. The song used is 8th of November by Big and Rich
Author's Notes: I blame ajewels and lockheeddragon for inspiring this.
Link to table: Here
Joe carefully packed his bag and put it into the trunk of his car; the last thing he put in before zipping it up was his uniform. He'd pressed it the previous night and he folded it carefully so it wouldn't get creased during the three hour journey. Closing the trunk firmly, he looked around. The sky was just starting to get grey at the edges; by the time he was out of town and onto the freeway it should be getting light. That was good. He didn't like trying to make a long drive in the dark.
He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door, turning the ignition on and smoothly putting the car into drive. He pulled out of his drive and headed south without ever noticing the motorbike parked further down the street, which moved to follow him as soon as he started moving.
*****
AJ, Gina, Corey and Berko were loitering in the back room of the store, waiting for Lucas to arrive for work. When he did they pulled him aside, casting furtive glances back at Joe's office, which was closed up tight. The sound of drumming could be heard coming from inside it.
“What's the deal with Joe?” AJ asked.
“What do you mean?” Lucas said, putting his helmet and goggles on one of the shelves and running his fingers through his hair, trying to put it back in some kind of order.
“He's been locked in his office, beating the hell out of his drums ever since we opened,” Gina said. “Even for Joe it's a bit early to be that stressed.”
“And he's taking the whole day off tomorrow,” Berko added. “He did this last year too and the year before. We figured since you've known him the longest, you'd know what's wrong.”
“No idea,” Lucas said. “He's been disappearing off on his own one day a year ever since I've known him. He used to pack me off to stay overnight with a friend on the 7th and pick me up again two days later.”
“Well, don't you think you should find out?” Corey insisted.
“No, it's Joe's business,” Lucas said. “If he wanted us to know, he'd tell us.”
“He might not want to tell us,” Gina said. “But he might need to tell someone. Whatever it is, it obviously upsets him or he wouldn't hide away and drum for the day before he vanishes. You should try and make him tell you.”
Lucas sighed but admitted to himself that they might have a point. He looked at the door of Joe's office. “I'll talk to him tonight after we close,” he said. “There's no point interrupting him now; it will just make him yell at me.”
“That's never stopped you before,” AJ joked.
Lucas glared at him and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He needed time to think about how to approach Joe without the others around distracting him.
*****
“Hey, Joe,” Lucas started as he washed up after their late dinner. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Joe said with a smile. “Whether I answer or not is a different matter.”
Lucas sighed. “I'm serious.”
“All right,” Joe said. “What is it you wanted?”
“Where are you going tomorrow?” he asked in a rush. “You disappear every year and you never tell anyone where you're going. Just that you won't be back until the 9th.”
“It's nothing to do with you, Lucas,” Joe told him. “It's just something I have to do. Don't worry about it.”
“But I do worry,” Lucas said, laying his hand on Joe's arm. “I worry about you. It's part of my job description,” he added with a small smile.
Joe laughed and kissed him softly. “There's nothing to worry about, love. I promise. Now why don't you finish those dishes while I lock up and we can go to bed.”
Lucas leaned against him briefly, enjoying the feel of Joe's body under his cheek. “All right. I won't ask any more,” he promised. “But I think I'll sleep in my own bed tonight. You always leave really early and I don't want you to wake me up. AJ's opening tomorrow so I don't have to get up at dawn.”
Joe pouted at him. “I'll miss you.”
Lucas laughed. “I'll be right down the hall and if you're going to leave before the sun comes up you need your sleep.”
Joe sighed. “OK, you have a point. I don't want to drive off the road. I'll see you when I get home, Lucas. Try not to get into any trouble in the mean time.”
“I'll try,” Lucas said with a wink. “But I'm making no promises.”
*****
At 5:30 the next morning he crept out of the house, through the window in his room so that Joe wouldn't wonder why the front door was unlocked and wheeled his bike down the street and in between two parked cars so that he could watch the drive without being seen.
Half an hour later he saw Joe leave the house, a bag in one hand and something in a suit hanger in the other. He carefully put them in the trunk and pulled out of the drive. Lucas followed him south, out of the city and onto the freeway. Even this early in the morning there was plenty of traffic around on the main road so he could hang back and follow Joe without it being too obvious that he was there.
They drove steadily south for the next two hours and Lucas was beginning to crave a chance to just get off the bike and stretch his legs for a bit when Joe finally pulled into a gas station. He sent up a brief prayer of thanks to whichever god watches over music store clerks and pulled in after him.
Joe disappeared into the cafe at the truck stop and Lucas didn't dare follow him, but he got off the bike and walked around a little, filling the bike up while he was there and picking himself up a bottle of Coke when he paid. He opened it on the way back to the bike and drank about half of it before looking around and realising Joe's car was no longer in the parking lot. He tossed the bottle in the trash and hurriedly jumped back on his bike, peeling out of the station like a bat out of hell, praying he'd be able to spot the car on the freeway somewhere before Joe got to wherever it was he was going and turned off.
Just as he was about to give up and head back to Fieldsboro in defeat he saw the gold car pulling onto the off ramp just ahead of him. He swerved across three lanes of traffic and onto the ramp catching up with it just as Joe turned off towards Washington. Lucas narrowed his eyes. He couldn't think of a single reason Joe would need to go to Washington, let alone go every year.
It was much more difficult to follow Joe without getting too close once they actually got into Washington. Fortunately, Joe seemed to be preoccupied and wasn't watching his mirrors too well. Eventually they pulled up in front of the Park Hyatt and Lucas drove past until he could find somewhere to stop and watch the entrance. He really hoped Joe wasn't meeting someone because then he'd be sat outside all day and still wouldn't know anything about what Joe was up to.
Mentally he tried to work out how much money he had to spare and came up well short of whatever a room at the Hyatt was going to cost. He hoped he could make his presence known to Joe at some point without getting yelled at and convince him to let him share his room; otherwise he was going to be sitting on the bike all night and sleeping on it.
When Joe did emerge from the hotel just over an hour later he almost didn't recognise him. The man who he had watched go into the hotel had been dressed in jeans and a sweater with his leather jacket over the top; the man who came out was wearing military uniform, his hair neatly tied back and under a hat and his shoes shines to within an inch of their life. If he hadn't collected the car from the valet Lucas might not have even realised it was Joe.
Lucas was even more curious now and determined to find out what was going on. He hadn't even known Joe had been in the army. Joe didn't talk much about his past, other than the occasional joking reference to his ex wife and to the live in girlfriend who had moved out as Lucas moved in.
Joe parked the car near the Lincoln Memorial and got out, heading into the park. Lucas cursed; it was going to be even harder to follow Joe in here, but he was going to have to try. He parked a little way away from Joe's car, hoping that he wouldn't see the bike and recognise it when he came back. Trying to keep a few people between him and Joe, he followed him along the paths, flanked by trees that looked stark against the grey, overcast sky, until they reached the Vietnam Memorial Wall. Backing off a little, he watched as Joe walked over to the wall, not hesitating as he headed directly for a specific panel, and stared at it for a moment, taking his hat off and standing there silently.
As he watched other men in uniform came into the area of the Memorial and stood next to Joe. They shared a moment of silent reflection, looking at the names on the wall, and then greeted one another, shaking hands and clapping one another on the back. Obviously Joe knew these people and Lucas assumed that it was them he had come here to meet, that he met every year on this day. One by one they stepped back and saluted the wall, bowing their heads respectfully, before turning away and putting their hats back on.
*****
“I think that kid is staring at us,” Jack remarked.
Joe turned to look, but there was no one there. “Which kid?”
The others turned too but they couldn't see anyone.
“Huh, well what do you know?” Jack said. “He's gone. I'm sure he was watching us though.”
“Forget about it,” Anthony said. “Time to go and visit them and then we can go and remember them properly.”
The others nodded and together they started to walk back through the park towards the memorial. When they got to the parking lot they stopped.
“We're not going to have this argument again, Joe,” Chris told him. “Get your stick. Every year you say you don't need it and every year you need one of us to help you back to the car.”
“Then what makes you think I'm going to take it this time?” Joe asked. “I can manage without it.”
“Well I was hoping you'd suddenly become smarter in the last twelve months,” Chris said dryly. “Apparently not.”
“Just get the damn stick,” Anthony insisted. “I want to get this over with and then go and get stinking drunk.”
Joe sighed. “Fine, I'll take it, but I don't need it.”
“Of course not,” Jack agreed. “You're just doing it to humour us.”
Joe stomped over to his car and pulled his cane out of the trunk. He brought it back and waved it at them. “I have it, so let's go now. I want to see the guys.”
“Me too,” Chris said.
They walked in silence across the bridge and over to the cemetery. The route to the graves was well known to them now and so they headed right there. At each familiar gravestone they stopped and bowed their heads again, remembering the man it commemorated.
Finally they reached the last stone and Joe crouched down, brushing it gently with his fingertips. “I miss you, kid,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”
The others pretended not to notice as he brushed tears away, mainly because they had done the same thing at other graves. He looked up and smiled sadly at them. “Let's go. There's a bar calling my name.”
*****
Lucas stopped following Joe and his friends when they reached Arlington Cemetery. He felt that he would be intruding on something very private if he spied on them at a graveside and besides they'd be bound to spot him and then Joe would shout at him. A lot.
He went back to the parking lot and lurked amongst the trees, waiting for them to return. He was learning a lot about Joe today and he didn't know if it was stuff he wanted to know. This was obviously an important day for Joe and he was choosing to share it with people who probably understood a lot more than Lucas did about what was going on. Joe had, apparently, been in the army at some point and, Lucas assumed, had served in Vietnam. The visit to the cemetery implied that he'd lost at least one person close enough to him that he wanted to remember them on this day every year.
The rest of the gang had assumed that whatever Joe was doing once a year, he was doing it alone, and, if he had been, then Lucas would have wanted to be there with him, to support him. But Joe wasn't alone; he had his other army friends with him and Lucas felt like an intruder, but he couldn't quite bring himself to turn around and go back to New Jersey, so he waited in the parking lot for Joe and his friends to return so he could see what they were going to do next.
It seemed like forever before he saw them returning. Joe's limp was much more pronounced than it usually was, probably because of the walk, and he was leaning on his cane. Lucas was glad he'd thought to take it with him. Usually he had a hell of a job persuading Joe to use it even when it was obvious that he was in pain. He thought it made him look like an old man and that, combined with a healthy dose of pride, meant that he tried not to use it if he could help it.
Joe limped back to his car and he and his friends pulled out of the lot in a kind of convoy. Lucas let them get a little ahead of him, but he didn't know Washington very well and he couldn't afford to let too big a gap open up in case he lost them. A couple of turns later he realised they were heading back to the hotel and passed them, hoping Joe wouldn't notice him, planning to get there first so he could sit in the lobby somewhere and watch as they came past. That way he'd see them when they left, if they left again, without having to sit on his bike for too long. His ass was going numb after all this riding and waiting.
*****
Joe and his friends arrived back at the hotel in quick succession and handed their cars over to the valet for parking. They always stayed at the same place and they could have driven to the memorial together, but the solitary drive there gave him time to think and remember. He could talk about the men they'd lost with his friends later in the evening, but the morning was the time he could relive his own memories without anyone else interfering or distracting him.
They parted at the elevators, all heading for different floors. Jack and Anthony would take the stairs. Jack because he hated enclosed spaces, something that they were probably the only three people in the world to know about, and Anthony because he'd just got married for the third time to a young lady several years younger than him and he was starting to get worried about his expanding waistline. Joe knew how he felt. He wasn't young any more himself and he wondered what Lucas saw in him. Not that he could tell the guys that. They claimed to have no secrets but he wasn't about to let them know he preferred his dancing partners to have less curves and more angles these days. They wouldn't understand. Although, given their perpetual teasing about his taste in women they might be a little relieved on some level that he wouldn't be attaching himself to any more women who would end up hating him.
He pressed the up button and rode the elevator to his room, leaning heavily on his cane. Every year the walk seemed a little longer and a little harder. He had to admit, if only to himself, that soon he would need to use the cane most of the time. He hated that, it made him look weak, vulnerable, but he couldn't fight his own body or the foreign body still lodged in his thigh that was too difficult for surgeons to remove but he could feel every time the weather changed.
Limping along the corridor to his room, he forced himself to stand up straighter. He wouldn't slouch while in uniform, no matter how much he ached. He changed out of the uniform and carefully packed it back in his bag for another year. He never discussed his past with any of his strays, even with Lucas, and he couldn't wear it on Memorial day for the ceremonies without raising questions he didn't want to answer, so it only came out on the 8th of November when he remembered the friends and comrades he lost fifteen years ago.
He changed back into his jeans and dug out a t-shirt and a longer sleeved shirt to go over it. He knew from experience the bar was too hot to wear a sweater in, no matter how cold it was outside. He slipped his wallet into his pocket and reluctantly picked up the cane again. Even if he did hate it, he had to admit it came in handy after an afternoon of drinking with his friends, and at least then he had an excuse for needing it.
Lucas hid behind a newspaper as one of Joe's friends wandered into the lobby and dropped down into one of the chairs to wait for the others. He was barely even breathing as he prayed no one would see him there. The seconds seemed to drag by like hours but eventually the other two men joined him and then finally he heard Joe's cane clicking across the stone floor in the lobby. He didn't dare look up from behind his paper until he was sure they'd left. When the sound of the cane paused near him his heart was in his throat but then the clicking started up again and he realised Joe had just been waiting for the other three to get up.
He slipped out of the front door, coming far too close to them for comfort as they waited for a cab, but they didn't see him and he managed to get to his bike before the cab pulled off. Yet another nervous journey through Washington DC traffic followed with him trying not to lose sight of the cab. It pulled up in front of a nice looking bar and the men started to climb out, one of them leaning back through the window, obviously paying the driver. Lucas swerved into a side street to avoid being seen and chained his bike up. He didn't want to have to explain to Joe exactly where he was and what he'd been doing if it got stolen.
Getting into the bar was more difficult since Joe was already in there by the time Lucas got back to the door. It was just past lunchtime and the place was almost empty, but by some miracle he managed to get to a booth right at the back without being seen. He slumped into the seat with a sigh of relief. This was definitely one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. He should have gone home after he saw Joe and his friends visiting Arlington, but his stupid curiosity had insisted he stayed and now he was trapped here in a dark corner of a bar in a strange city, hoping that Joe wouldn't see him. And worse he had no idea how long they'd be in the bar and how long he'd be stuck here, too scared to move in case he was spotted.
*****
When they got into the bar, the four of them staked out their usual table. Even though they only came in once a year the staff knew them by now. Once a year for fifteen years was enough to earn them a 'usual' table and to get the barmaid rushing over with four longnecks as soon as they sat down. She pulled out her notepad and smiled at them.
“You all ready to order food yet?” she asked.
“That depends,” Chris said with a smile. “What's good, honey?”
“Everything's good,” she retorted. “You ought to know that by now and I'm still not your honey. Are you going to call me that every time you come in?”
“Maybe,” he said with a smile, raising his beer in a salute to her. “Four steak sandwiches, four orders of fries and some of those chip things with the spicy dip. And get four slices of that home made pie read for when we're done. Your apple pie is the reason we keep coming back,” he assured her. “It's a taste of heaven.”
Joe shook his head and sighed. “You'll have to excuse my friend, miss. He thinks he's Casanova and no matter how many women tell him he's not, he can't seem to grasp the idea. I think he was dropped on his head as a baby.”
She laughed and winked at Joe. “I'll remember that, sugar. Now is there anything else I can get you with your meals? Cook's added onion rings and corn on the cob to the menu since you were last here.”
“Sounds good,” Jack told her. “Corn for each of us and a couple of orders of the onion rings to share.”
She nodded and hurried off to get their food, leaving them alone again. Joe raised his bottle and looked at the others.
“Time for the traditional toast, I think,” he said and they all sat up straighter, their expressions becoming more serious.
“To absent friends,” they said together. “May they rest in peace and may we never forget their sacrifice.”
They took long drinks from their bottles and pretended they weren't having to fight to swallow it around the lumps in their throats. By the time the barmaid made it back with their food, they were joking and talking again, no sign of the tears of the solemn mood that had briefly overtaken them as they drank to the comrades who hadn't come home with them.
The afternoon passed them by without troubling them as they drank and talked and drank some more, until Joe looked up from the table and realised it was dark outside and the lights had been turned on to give the bar a warm, cosy glow, enticing people in from the cold weather outside.
“It's late,” he said, making the others look up and blink at the lights around them. The brief foray back into reality made Joe realise something else as well. He struggled to his feet, leaning on his cane. “I have to piss. Order me another beer if she comes back while I'm gone.”
His route from the table to the bathroom took him past Lucas' table, but he was too focussed on his objective to see him trying to hide in the shadows. Jack wasn't as distracted as Joe though and he saw him.
“Hey,” he said, a little too loudly. “It's the kid from the Memorial.” The other two turned around to see where he was pointing and Lucas winced, hurriedly getting up and running for the door, trying to get out of the bar before Joe came back and saw him.
Anthony was faster though and he grabbed his arm. “Why are you following us, kid?” he asked, shaking him as he spoke.
“Uh, I...” he started.
“Lucas!” Joe said in surprise. He had come out of the bathroom while Lucas was trying to get away from Anthony. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“This is your Lucas?” Chris asked. “He's the kid Jack saw at the Memorial.”
“You're following me?” Joe growled, furious all of a sudden at Lucas.
He flushed and nodded. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. We were worried about you because you disappear every year and never tell anyone where you're going. I should have gone home when I realised that you had friends with you, but ...” He shrugged. “I'd like to say I was just looking out for you, and I was but I was being nosy as well. I'm really sorry, Joe. I shouldn't be here.”
Joe sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it's all right. I probably should have told you where I was going last night. I know what you're like when there's a mystery to solve.”
He put his hand on Lucas' shoulder and smiled at his friends. “I know I've told you about Lucas. This is him. Lucas, these are old friends of mine from Vietnam. Jack, Anthony, and Chris. You can let him go now, Anthony. He didn't mean any harm.”
“I didn't mean to interrupt,” Lucas said again. “I should go.” He looked at Joe. “Um, I don't have anywhere to stay and you don't pay me enough to afford a room at the Hyatt. Can I crash with you?”
Joe started to dig his room key out of his pocket but Jack stopped him. “Go on, Joe. It's late enough. Go with him and tell him about the guys.” He smiled. “I think Pat would have liked him.”
Smiling softly, Joe nodded. “He would. They could have caused immense amounts of trouble together and probably talked their way out of it afterwards.” He looked around at the three of them. “Are you sure? It's only once a year I don't want to cut out on you.”
“Go,” Anthony said. “They deserve to be talked about. Tell Lucas the stories and next year bring him along. The cemetery and Memorial are just for us but it'd be nice to have a new audience for the stories in the bar. Might even tell him a few about you if you're not careful.”
“I have far more of your escapades stored up than you have of mine,” Joe warned. “Just you be careful what tales you tell.” He held out a hand to each man and when they took it pulled them into a hug one by one. “Take care of yourselves until next year,” he admonished.
Supporting himself with his cane on one side and with his arm around Lucas' shoulder on the other, he limped out of the bar and hailed a cab.
“If your bike's somewhere safe we can pick it up tomorrow,” he said, looking at Lucas with a raised eyebrow.
“It's fine,” Lucas assured him. “All chained up and out of sight in an alleyway. Let's get you back to the hotel. I've never seen you drink like that before.”
“I only do it once a year,” Joe said. He took a deep breath. “Let's go back to the hotel. I want to tell you about the 8th of November, 1965, and the men who died that day. It's past time I shared it with you.”
Lucas smiled and hugged him gently, careful to keep it platonic. “I'd be honoured, Joe.”
Author:Joe Reaves
Fandom:Empire Records
Pairing:Joe/Lucas
Claim: Joe Reaves
Prompt:8th of November
Word Count:4683
Rating: FRT
Warnings: Subject matter may be upsetting to some people (read the song lyrics if you're unsure).
Disclaimer: Empire Records and its characters don't belong to me. The song used is 8th of November by Big and Rich
Author's Notes: I blame ajewels and lockheeddragon for inspiring this.
Link to table: Here
Joe carefully packed his bag and put it into the trunk of his car; the last thing he put in before zipping it up was his uniform. He'd pressed it the previous night and he folded it carefully so it wouldn't get creased during the three hour journey. Closing the trunk firmly, he looked around. The sky was just starting to get grey at the edges; by the time he was out of town and onto the freeway it should be getting light. That was good. He didn't like trying to make a long drive in the dark.
He slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door, turning the ignition on and smoothly putting the car into drive. He pulled out of his drive and headed south without ever noticing the motorbike parked further down the street, which moved to follow him as soon as he started moving.
*****
AJ, Gina, Corey and Berko were loitering in the back room of the store, waiting for Lucas to arrive for work. When he did they pulled him aside, casting furtive glances back at Joe's office, which was closed up tight. The sound of drumming could be heard coming from inside it.
“What's the deal with Joe?” AJ asked.
“What do you mean?” Lucas said, putting his helmet and goggles on one of the shelves and running his fingers through his hair, trying to put it back in some kind of order.
“He's been locked in his office, beating the hell out of his drums ever since we opened,” Gina said. “Even for Joe it's a bit early to be that stressed.”
“And he's taking the whole day off tomorrow,” Berko added. “He did this last year too and the year before. We figured since you've known him the longest, you'd know what's wrong.”
“No idea,” Lucas said. “He's been disappearing off on his own one day a year ever since I've known him. He used to pack me off to stay overnight with a friend on the 7th and pick me up again two days later.”
“Well, don't you think you should find out?” Corey insisted.
“No, it's Joe's business,” Lucas said. “If he wanted us to know, he'd tell us.”
“He might not want to tell us,” Gina said. “But he might need to tell someone. Whatever it is, it obviously upsets him or he wouldn't hide away and drum for the day before he vanishes. You should try and make him tell you.”
Lucas sighed but admitted to himself that they might have a point. He looked at the door of Joe's office. “I'll talk to him tonight after we close,” he said. “There's no point interrupting him now; it will just make him yell at me.”
“That's never stopped you before,” AJ joked.
Lucas glared at him and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. He needed time to think about how to approach Joe without the others around distracting him.
*****
“Hey, Joe,” Lucas started as he washed up after their late dinner. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Joe said with a smile. “Whether I answer or not is a different matter.”
Lucas sighed. “I'm serious.”
“All right,” Joe said. “What is it you wanted?”
“Where are you going tomorrow?” he asked in a rush. “You disappear every year and you never tell anyone where you're going. Just that you won't be back until the 9th.”
“It's nothing to do with you, Lucas,” Joe told him. “It's just something I have to do. Don't worry about it.”
“But I do worry,” Lucas said, laying his hand on Joe's arm. “I worry about you. It's part of my job description,” he added with a small smile.
Joe laughed and kissed him softly. “There's nothing to worry about, love. I promise. Now why don't you finish those dishes while I lock up and we can go to bed.”
Lucas leaned against him briefly, enjoying the feel of Joe's body under his cheek. “All right. I won't ask any more,” he promised. “But I think I'll sleep in my own bed tonight. You always leave really early and I don't want you to wake me up. AJ's opening tomorrow so I don't have to get up at dawn.”
Joe pouted at him. “I'll miss you.”
Lucas laughed. “I'll be right down the hall and if you're going to leave before the sun comes up you need your sleep.”
Joe sighed. “OK, you have a point. I don't want to drive off the road. I'll see you when I get home, Lucas. Try not to get into any trouble in the mean time.”
“I'll try,” Lucas said with a wink. “But I'm making no promises.”
*****
At 5:30 the next morning he crept out of the house, through the window in his room so that Joe wouldn't wonder why the front door was unlocked and wheeled his bike down the street and in between two parked cars so that he could watch the drive without being seen.
Half an hour later he saw Joe leave the house, a bag in one hand and something in a suit hanger in the other. He carefully put them in the trunk and pulled out of the drive. Lucas followed him south, out of the city and onto the freeway. Even this early in the morning there was plenty of traffic around on the main road so he could hang back and follow Joe without it being too obvious that he was there.
They drove steadily south for the next two hours and Lucas was beginning to crave a chance to just get off the bike and stretch his legs for a bit when Joe finally pulled into a gas station. He sent up a brief prayer of thanks to whichever god watches over music store clerks and pulled in after him.
Joe disappeared into the cafe at the truck stop and Lucas didn't dare follow him, but he got off the bike and walked around a little, filling the bike up while he was there and picking himself up a bottle of Coke when he paid. He opened it on the way back to the bike and drank about half of it before looking around and realising Joe's car was no longer in the parking lot. He tossed the bottle in the trash and hurriedly jumped back on his bike, peeling out of the station like a bat out of hell, praying he'd be able to spot the car on the freeway somewhere before Joe got to wherever it was he was going and turned off.
Just as he was about to give up and head back to Fieldsboro in defeat he saw the gold car pulling onto the off ramp just ahead of him. He swerved across three lanes of traffic and onto the ramp catching up with it just as Joe turned off towards Washington. Lucas narrowed his eyes. He couldn't think of a single reason Joe would need to go to Washington, let alone go every year.
It was much more difficult to follow Joe without getting too close once they actually got into Washington. Fortunately, Joe seemed to be preoccupied and wasn't watching his mirrors too well. Eventually they pulled up in front of the Park Hyatt and Lucas drove past until he could find somewhere to stop and watch the entrance. He really hoped Joe wasn't meeting someone because then he'd be sat outside all day and still wouldn't know anything about what Joe was up to.
Mentally he tried to work out how much money he had to spare and came up well short of whatever a room at the Hyatt was going to cost. He hoped he could make his presence known to Joe at some point without getting yelled at and convince him to let him share his room; otherwise he was going to be sitting on the bike all night and sleeping on it.
When Joe did emerge from the hotel just over an hour later he almost didn't recognise him. The man who he had watched go into the hotel had been dressed in jeans and a sweater with his leather jacket over the top; the man who came out was wearing military uniform, his hair neatly tied back and under a hat and his shoes shines to within an inch of their life. If he hadn't collected the car from the valet Lucas might not have even realised it was Joe.
Lucas was even more curious now and determined to find out what was going on. He hadn't even known Joe had been in the army. Joe didn't talk much about his past, other than the occasional joking reference to his ex wife and to the live in girlfriend who had moved out as Lucas moved in.
Joe parked the car near the Lincoln Memorial and got out, heading into the park. Lucas cursed; it was going to be even harder to follow Joe in here, but he was going to have to try. He parked a little way away from Joe's car, hoping that he wouldn't see the bike and recognise it when he came back. Trying to keep a few people between him and Joe, he followed him along the paths, flanked by trees that looked stark against the grey, overcast sky, until they reached the Vietnam Memorial Wall. Backing off a little, he watched as Joe walked over to the wall, not hesitating as he headed directly for a specific panel, and stared at it for a moment, taking his hat off and standing there silently.
As he watched other men in uniform came into the area of the Memorial and stood next to Joe. They shared a moment of silent reflection, looking at the names on the wall, and then greeted one another, shaking hands and clapping one another on the back. Obviously Joe knew these people and Lucas assumed that it was them he had come here to meet, that he met every year on this day. One by one they stepped back and saluted the wall, bowing their heads respectfully, before turning away and putting their hats back on.
*****
“I think that kid is staring at us,” Jack remarked.
Joe turned to look, but there was no one there. “Which kid?”
The others turned too but they couldn't see anyone.
“Huh, well what do you know?” Jack said. “He's gone. I'm sure he was watching us though.”
“Forget about it,” Anthony said. “Time to go and visit them and then we can go and remember them properly.”
The others nodded and together they started to walk back through the park towards the memorial. When they got to the parking lot they stopped.
“We're not going to have this argument again, Joe,” Chris told him. “Get your stick. Every year you say you don't need it and every year you need one of us to help you back to the car.”
“Then what makes you think I'm going to take it this time?” Joe asked. “I can manage without it.”
“Well I was hoping you'd suddenly become smarter in the last twelve months,” Chris said dryly. “Apparently not.”
“Just get the damn stick,” Anthony insisted. “I want to get this over with and then go and get stinking drunk.”
Joe sighed. “Fine, I'll take it, but I don't need it.”
“Of course not,” Jack agreed. “You're just doing it to humour us.”
Joe stomped over to his car and pulled his cane out of the trunk. He brought it back and waved it at them. “I have it, so let's go now. I want to see the guys.”
“Me too,” Chris said.
They walked in silence across the bridge and over to the cemetery. The route to the graves was well known to them now and so they headed right there. At each familiar gravestone they stopped and bowed their heads again, remembering the man it commemorated.
Finally they reached the last stone and Joe crouched down, brushing it gently with his fingertips. “I miss you, kid,” he said softly. “Sleep well.”
The others pretended not to notice as he brushed tears away, mainly because they had done the same thing at other graves. He looked up and smiled sadly at them. “Let's go. There's a bar calling my name.”
*****
Lucas stopped following Joe and his friends when they reached Arlington Cemetery. He felt that he would be intruding on something very private if he spied on them at a graveside and besides they'd be bound to spot him and then Joe would shout at him. A lot.
He went back to the parking lot and lurked amongst the trees, waiting for them to return. He was learning a lot about Joe today and he didn't know if it was stuff he wanted to know. This was obviously an important day for Joe and he was choosing to share it with people who probably understood a lot more than Lucas did about what was going on. Joe had, apparently, been in the army at some point and, Lucas assumed, had served in Vietnam. The visit to the cemetery implied that he'd lost at least one person close enough to him that he wanted to remember them on this day every year.
The rest of the gang had assumed that whatever Joe was doing once a year, he was doing it alone, and, if he had been, then Lucas would have wanted to be there with him, to support him. But Joe wasn't alone; he had his other army friends with him and Lucas felt like an intruder, but he couldn't quite bring himself to turn around and go back to New Jersey, so he waited in the parking lot for Joe and his friends to return so he could see what they were going to do next.
It seemed like forever before he saw them returning. Joe's limp was much more pronounced than it usually was, probably because of the walk, and he was leaning on his cane. Lucas was glad he'd thought to take it with him. Usually he had a hell of a job persuading Joe to use it even when it was obvious that he was in pain. He thought it made him look like an old man and that, combined with a healthy dose of pride, meant that he tried not to use it if he could help it.
Joe limped back to his car and he and his friends pulled out of the lot in a kind of convoy. Lucas let them get a little ahead of him, but he didn't know Washington very well and he couldn't afford to let too big a gap open up in case he lost them. A couple of turns later he realised they were heading back to the hotel and passed them, hoping Joe wouldn't notice him, planning to get there first so he could sit in the lobby somewhere and watch as they came past. That way he'd see them when they left, if they left again, without having to sit on his bike for too long. His ass was going numb after all this riding and waiting.
*****
Joe and his friends arrived back at the hotel in quick succession and handed their cars over to the valet for parking. They always stayed at the same place and they could have driven to the memorial together, but the solitary drive there gave him time to think and remember. He could talk about the men they'd lost with his friends later in the evening, but the morning was the time he could relive his own memories without anyone else interfering or distracting him.
They parted at the elevators, all heading for different floors. Jack and Anthony would take the stairs. Jack because he hated enclosed spaces, something that they were probably the only three people in the world to know about, and Anthony because he'd just got married for the third time to a young lady several years younger than him and he was starting to get worried about his expanding waistline. Joe knew how he felt. He wasn't young any more himself and he wondered what Lucas saw in him. Not that he could tell the guys that. They claimed to have no secrets but he wasn't about to let them know he preferred his dancing partners to have less curves and more angles these days. They wouldn't understand. Although, given their perpetual teasing about his taste in women they might be a little relieved on some level that he wouldn't be attaching himself to any more women who would end up hating him.
He pressed the up button and rode the elevator to his room, leaning heavily on his cane. Every year the walk seemed a little longer and a little harder. He had to admit, if only to himself, that soon he would need to use the cane most of the time. He hated that, it made him look weak, vulnerable, but he couldn't fight his own body or the foreign body still lodged in his thigh that was too difficult for surgeons to remove but he could feel every time the weather changed.
Limping along the corridor to his room, he forced himself to stand up straighter. He wouldn't slouch while in uniform, no matter how much he ached. He changed out of the uniform and carefully packed it back in his bag for another year. He never discussed his past with any of his strays, even with Lucas, and he couldn't wear it on Memorial day for the ceremonies without raising questions he didn't want to answer, so it only came out on the 8th of November when he remembered the friends and comrades he lost fifteen years ago.
He changed back into his jeans and dug out a t-shirt and a longer sleeved shirt to go over it. He knew from experience the bar was too hot to wear a sweater in, no matter how cold it was outside. He slipped his wallet into his pocket and reluctantly picked up the cane again. Even if he did hate it, he had to admit it came in handy after an afternoon of drinking with his friends, and at least then he had an excuse for needing it.
Lucas hid behind a newspaper as one of Joe's friends wandered into the lobby and dropped down into one of the chairs to wait for the others. He was barely even breathing as he prayed no one would see him there. The seconds seemed to drag by like hours but eventually the other two men joined him and then finally he heard Joe's cane clicking across the stone floor in the lobby. He didn't dare look up from behind his paper until he was sure they'd left. When the sound of the cane paused near him his heart was in his throat but then the clicking started up again and he realised Joe had just been waiting for the other three to get up.
He slipped out of the front door, coming far too close to them for comfort as they waited for a cab, but they didn't see him and he managed to get to his bike before the cab pulled off. Yet another nervous journey through Washington DC traffic followed with him trying not to lose sight of the cab. It pulled up in front of a nice looking bar and the men started to climb out, one of them leaning back through the window, obviously paying the driver. Lucas swerved into a side street to avoid being seen and chained his bike up. He didn't want to have to explain to Joe exactly where he was and what he'd been doing if it got stolen.
Getting into the bar was more difficult since Joe was already in there by the time Lucas got back to the door. It was just past lunchtime and the place was almost empty, but by some miracle he managed to get to a booth right at the back without being seen. He slumped into the seat with a sigh of relief. This was definitely one of the worst ideas he'd ever had. He should have gone home after he saw Joe and his friends visiting Arlington, but his stupid curiosity had insisted he stayed and now he was trapped here in a dark corner of a bar in a strange city, hoping that Joe wouldn't see him. And worse he had no idea how long they'd be in the bar and how long he'd be stuck here, too scared to move in case he was spotted.
*****
When they got into the bar, the four of them staked out their usual table. Even though they only came in once a year the staff knew them by now. Once a year for fifteen years was enough to earn them a 'usual' table and to get the barmaid rushing over with four longnecks as soon as they sat down. She pulled out her notepad and smiled at them.
“You all ready to order food yet?” she asked.
“That depends,” Chris said with a smile. “What's good, honey?”
“Everything's good,” she retorted. “You ought to know that by now and I'm still not your honey. Are you going to call me that every time you come in?”
“Maybe,” he said with a smile, raising his beer in a salute to her. “Four steak sandwiches, four orders of fries and some of those chip things with the spicy dip. And get four slices of that home made pie read for when we're done. Your apple pie is the reason we keep coming back,” he assured her. “It's a taste of heaven.”
Joe shook his head and sighed. “You'll have to excuse my friend, miss. He thinks he's Casanova and no matter how many women tell him he's not, he can't seem to grasp the idea. I think he was dropped on his head as a baby.”
She laughed and winked at Joe. “I'll remember that, sugar. Now is there anything else I can get you with your meals? Cook's added onion rings and corn on the cob to the menu since you were last here.”
“Sounds good,” Jack told her. “Corn for each of us and a couple of orders of the onion rings to share.”
She nodded and hurried off to get their food, leaving them alone again. Joe raised his bottle and looked at the others.
“Time for the traditional toast, I think,” he said and they all sat up straighter, their expressions becoming more serious.
“To absent friends,” they said together. “May they rest in peace and may we never forget their sacrifice.”
They took long drinks from their bottles and pretended they weren't having to fight to swallow it around the lumps in their throats. By the time the barmaid made it back with their food, they were joking and talking again, no sign of the tears of the solemn mood that had briefly overtaken them as they drank to the comrades who hadn't come home with them.
The afternoon passed them by without troubling them as they drank and talked and drank some more, until Joe looked up from the table and realised it was dark outside and the lights had been turned on to give the bar a warm, cosy glow, enticing people in from the cold weather outside.
“It's late,” he said, making the others look up and blink at the lights around them. The brief foray back into reality made Joe realise something else as well. He struggled to his feet, leaning on his cane. “I have to piss. Order me another beer if she comes back while I'm gone.”
His route from the table to the bathroom took him past Lucas' table, but he was too focussed on his objective to see him trying to hide in the shadows. Jack wasn't as distracted as Joe though and he saw him.
“Hey,” he said, a little too loudly. “It's the kid from the Memorial.” The other two turned around to see where he was pointing and Lucas winced, hurriedly getting up and running for the door, trying to get out of the bar before Joe came back and saw him.
Anthony was faster though and he grabbed his arm. “Why are you following us, kid?” he asked, shaking him as he spoke.
“Uh, I...” he started.
“Lucas!” Joe said in surprise. He had come out of the bathroom while Lucas was trying to get away from Anthony. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“This is your Lucas?” Chris asked. “He's the kid Jack saw at the Memorial.”
“You're following me?” Joe growled, furious all of a sudden at Lucas.
He flushed and nodded. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to intrude. We were worried about you because you disappear every year and never tell anyone where you're going. I should have gone home when I realised that you had friends with you, but ...” He shrugged. “I'd like to say I was just looking out for you, and I was but I was being nosy as well. I'm really sorry, Joe. I shouldn't be here.”
Joe sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “No, it's all right. I probably should have told you where I was going last night. I know what you're like when there's a mystery to solve.”
He put his hand on Lucas' shoulder and smiled at his friends. “I know I've told you about Lucas. This is him. Lucas, these are old friends of mine from Vietnam. Jack, Anthony, and Chris. You can let him go now, Anthony. He didn't mean any harm.”
“I didn't mean to interrupt,” Lucas said again. “I should go.” He looked at Joe. “Um, I don't have anywhere to stay and you don't pay me enough to afford a room at the Hyatt. Can I crash with you?”
Joe started to dig his room key out of his pocket but Jack stopped him. “Go on, Joe. It's late enough. Go with him and tell him about the guys.” He smiled. “I think Pat would have liked him.”
Smiling softly, Joe nodded. “He would. They could have caused immense amounts of trouble together and probably talked their way out of it afterwards.” He looked around at the three of them. “Are you sure? It's only once a year I don't want to cut out on you.”
“Go,” Anthony said. “They deserve to be talked about. Tell Lucas the stories and next year bring him along. The cemetery and Memorial are just for us but it'd be nice to have a new audience for the stories in the bar. Might even tell him a few about you if you're not careful.”
“I have far more of your escapades stored up than you have of mine,” Joe warned. “Just you be careful what tales you tell.” He held out a hand to each man and when they took it pulled them into a hug one by one. “Take care of yourselves until next year,” he admonished.
Supporting himself with his cane on one side and with his arm around Lucas' shoulder on the other, he limped out of the bar and hailed a cab.
“If your bike's somewhere safe we can pick it up tomorrow,” he said, looking at Lucas with a raised eyebrow.
“It's fine,” Lucas assured him. “All chained up and out of sight in an alleyway. Let's get you back to the hotel. I've never seen you drink like that before.”
“I only do it once a year,” Joe said. He took a deep breath. “Let's go back to the hotel. I want to tell you about the 8th of November, 1965, and the men who died that day. It's past time I shared it with you.”
Lucas smiled and hugged him gently, careful to keep it platonic. “I'd be honoured, Joe.”