Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Gus’s was a restaurant that had been around for over a decade. It used to be an old department store in the 1960s and was turned into an arcade on the first floor, with three large apartments on the second floor in the 1980s, then abandoned soon thereafter after a fire ripped through it. After it had sat vacant for years, a guy by the name of Teddy Monroe, from Montana, had moved to Fairbanks, bought it cheap, and opened up the eatery, a little over an hour away from Denali National Park, where he worked. Gus was Teddy’s grandfather’s name, so the guy named the new place after him, claiming many of the recipes came from the old-timer.
Monroe had hired some dickhead named Bob to run the place. Bob, AKA Robert Redford—yeah, that was his real name—had gone to high school with Jack. He’d been a piece of crusty fried chicken shit back then and remained such up to current times. Jack tolerated the guy because the food was so good, it was worth the trouble. Gus’s was a much-welcomed option since his prior go-to had been a bit of a hike from his job, for most people choose to live in the more suburban area of Fairbanks, over two hours away.
He was out in a remote area, on a large plot of land surrounded by forest, located close to Denali Park Road in Kantishna. Typically, this region was off limits to the public, with occasional tourists renting cabins sometimes years in advance and such, or researchers with special permits coming through—living on the land to study and track various animals and wildlife.
But he’d arranged to be there since he worked the land, too, and had lived in the faraway area for a while, in a house he’d designed himself and helped build. For Jack, his home was a paradise. To others, it probably appeared secluded, perhaps even intimidating. For many not used to such terrain, it was indeed overwhelming, but in his mind, it was home sweet home. It allowed him to be at one with nature, but at times, the isolation was sobering. He didn’t mind being alone. In fact, he reveled in it. However, good company was appreciated more so than ever, and it was nice to get out and about and look into the eyes of another human being. One who wasn’t plastered on a television screen or magazine. Although he didn’t trust many, he appreciated good company sometimes.
He grabbed his phone and glanced at what specials Gus was having. The guy liked to post a daily special online, and always encouraged him to check it out.
Pot roast and corned beef sandwiches…
Gus’s had good sandwiches on soft, homemade bread, and every now and again Jack would treat himself to one, along with a coffee or two. He finished his breakfast, the hot broth chased with a days-old roll, then picked up his cigar. Memories filled him like a fog. Francesca had given him that cigar on his birthday long ago. A set of twelve in a dented tin can, along with a gag gift of sardines on the side. He hated sardines.
His ex-wife was a practical joker, and he missed her laugh. Damn you, woman… They’d been buddies, through thick and thin. The flame-haired woman was the mother of their son, Chad. They’d remained friends long after their young love and marriage fizzled. At first, it was a concerted effort, for the sake of their son, but then the friendship came naturally. They grew up together. From a boy and a girl to a man and a woman. They liked one another, and he saw her through two more marriages she took on. One ended in divorce like theirs. Another made her a widow when her husband Gregory got ill.
He brought the cigar to his mouth and took a drag. You had no business leaving here so soon, lady. Just as he showed her appreciation, she stood by his side, too. She’d seen him through a manslaughter case, a hairy situation with some criminal hiding out in the park, and then the blowup he’d had with the police over Chad’s death, which caused him to have to fight for his job after he was unfairly fired, then reinstated as a Denali Park ranger. Before that, he’d worked at other parks, and they were always supporting one another—they did so until the bitter end.
He took another drag of his cigar and fought a smile. He hadn’t been in love often. Only twice, in fact. There was an ‘almost’ third time, but that was more of a close call than anything else. Romantic love, that warm, gushy shit, was for the birds. For Jack, it was a strange feeling with no rhyme or reason – almost foreign. It fit tight and uncomfortable, like a heavy cast on the leg, and when he was struck with it, he detested the way it strangled him, cut off his air.