*nervous neighbor

WHY WOULDN’T HE LEAVE? Joel was already apologizing in his head for what he would have to do. This was for his family. He picks up the trowel in his hand and squeezes the handle, feeling around for a good grip. Maybe the other guy was genuinely curious about foraging? The uncertainty was setting his nerves off. “ A morel is like a mushroom; it grows around the treeline. And sage … well, you burn it and wave it around and it’s supposed to ward off bad spirits. ”

“No offense?” She laughs nervously. She’s distracted by the crossword puzzle in her lap. It’s full of cultural reference she can’t, doesn’t, won’t understand. She’s in a chair, waiting for the car wash employees to finish detailing her car while other people vacuum their own vehicles.

“ NOT AT ALL. ” That came out too stern and he swallows hard; lowering his voice and softening his tone, he says , “ I mean, once I clean up I’m probably going to take my sage and morels home. No reason to keep you up here. ” He calmly zips the bag back up and gets up. HE KNEW. But Joel was willing to give him one more out before he had to commit to doing something terrible. Was that for the other’s benefit or himself? “ Thanks for the offer though, man. ”

“ … YES. These are the southern californian woods. It’s synonymous with desert though. Just a … local joke. ” A tumbleweed stumbles by and over his duffel that was apparently LEAKING. “ You know, I was like that when I was younger. Then I found such purpose in fixing things. Junior carpentry is more of my hobby. ” Too candid. He doesn’t notice the blood until the other noticed it. Joel tries not to panic as he shuffles backwards and turns to hide the bag with his body. He unzips and notices that he’d been taking too long, the blood had soaked through the linens. All sixteen of them. “ OH, shit yeah.  That’s just Gatorade. You know, the sun and heat stroke and electrolytes. Thanks for the heads up, I’ll clean that right up. ” 

There was definitely a dead body in his bag. He’d piled a few old towels from the back of the linens closet to make sure it didn’t drip. Joel squeezes his arms together as he folds them across his chest and looks around the guy’s shoulders. Just him. Maybe he COULD take him on with his trowel. “ Hm, that’s what a rival forager would say. Or even a follower of Wiccan Magic. There’s a full moon coming along, but I’m sure you already knew that. Wench of the woods. ” He mutters softly, digging his hands now into his pockets to look for something to occupy them with. “ Very fun. You should try it, if you’re being honest. But not here and not now. ”

“ YOU should not be here, ” he stammers, the words stuck to his mouth as though he’d swallowed a spoonful of peanut butter after going to the bathroom at 2am. @apexadapted​ ‘s presence startled the shit out of him and he dropped his shovel; well, TROWEL, by definition it WAS one handed and under two feet… but that wasn’t as threatening as saying ‘shovel’. His only weapon and means of self-defence. His trowel. “ I mean, it’s … ” he waves his hands around, blocking sight of the rest of his equipment stashed in his bag. “ MY TERRITORY. I am verbally declaring, right now, that this is my foraging spot and if you want some wild white sage, better luck in another zone, buddy. I’m sure you could snag a few wood sorrel down the hill, so … ” he tries shooing the other away. “ You can make some salad dressing. ”