“Looks can be deceiving,” he teased, guiding a smile from her.
“No, I’m serious. I felt that way the first time we met at Gus’s. I guess that’s why I felt so comfortable coming here to give you a present. You seemed friendly enough.” She shrugged. “I’m a good judge of character. Well,” she beamed, “at least I believe so. Life taught me that I better be, or it could be my last day.”
“Why do you think I’m an interesting person?”
“You don’t match where you live, how you speak and move. Nothing about you is predictable. I find that interesting. They say stereotypes have a bit of truth in them. That’s what makes them stereotypes – that kernel of truth.” He nodded, as if intrigued by her theory. “My instinct tells me you’re not a weirdo, as you say, and you don’t just go around hurting people. At least not without being provoked.”
“I seem like an interesting person…” He softly repeated her words. “That’s probably the closest thing I’ve gotten to a compliment in months.” He laughed dismally. “You’ve heard some things about me.”
“You already know I have.” She looked sleepily at the fire, which felt like it was putting her in a trance. “Strangely enough, I still know nothing about you. People talk about you in code, you know? Like it’s top secret. It’s bizarre.”
“I’m sure these people that talked about me to you used some noteworthy adjectives to describe me, and I am certain some of those adjectives mean the same thing. No code translating needed. Some of the things you heard about me might be true.” He looked rather indifferent about the whole thing. “You never know.”
“What do you think I’ve heard about you?”
She studied his profile as he kept his eye on the flames. Every time she took a gander at him, she noticed something new… something different. This time, it was a small scar that cut into the tail of his eyebrow.
“I don’t think the particulars matter, but I can tell you this much: some of them I can promise you aren’t true, too.” He slowly turned back in her direction. “Add to all of those rumors the fact that I’ve lived here by myself, out in the middle of nowhere, for a while. All that does is stoke the flames – keeps the stories and gossip comin’. So, it wouldn’t be hard to conclude that either I’m some hermit, or a crazy lunatic who thinks he’s Paul Bunyan.”
“I take it that you’ve thought about how you come across to people around here?”
“I don’t care how I come across to people around here. That’s the problem… Most of these people can’t stand that. I don’t give a shit what they are doing or saying. It doesn’t affect me in the morning, in the afternoon, or at night.” He waved his hand lazily about.
“I haven’t heard the name Paul Bunyan mentioned in a long time.” She crossed her legs and lay back on the couch, getting comfortable. “It brings back funny childhood memories.”
“You know, it’s amazing how a man with the last name Bunyan can command so much respect. I mean, I know it’s not spelled like the actual foot bunion, but it’s pronounced the exact same way.”
She giggled then nodded in agreement.
“It is funny. You make a good point.”
“Paul Fungus… Paul Wart…Paul Hemorrhoid… Makes you wonder if that would be okay, too?”
She burst out laughing, her cheeks warming, and then, her body relaxed even more as he laughed right along with her. Such a beautiful sound…
“So, you do have a silly side after all. The natives were wrong about Jack.”
His brow rose as he smirked. “You were told I’m too serious?”
“Pretty much. Serious as a heart attack.”
“Yeah, well they’d be serious too, if somethin’ bad happened, and the town didn’t do a damn thing to help until it was far too late.”
“What exactly happened that—”
“After everything I’ve done for these folks over the years, it was really something how they turned around and stabbed me in the back without blinking an eye. Spineless. This place is full of pussies. Excuse my language… cowards. The majority of ’em can go to hell. I’m not going to smile in the face of my enemy.” The room seemed to draw colder then. “How’s that for interesting?” He huffed and rolled his eyes. Sickened.
“You’re different. You’re still interesting. More so, now. A little unusual, too. Does that come across as rude? To call someone unusual?”
“No. If that’s what you think, then that’s what you think.” He tossed up his hands. “We live in such a butthurt society now,” people get bent out of shape about opinions. Unusual, to me, is someone who tells the truth in this day and age. That’s rare. Anyway, thank you for the basket. I’m sure the food in there is tasty. That was really nice of you.”