On the Town [for someyoungpup, because their friendship transcends time and space]

[alan_shore]

Alan owns one tie. His mother chose it-it’s the blue of a baby’s bedroom wall, a color that supposedly matches his eyes. He keeps it-sometimes folded, sometimes wound into a spiral-in his sock drawer, and it’s seen use as blindfold, snare trap, and almost kite tail

Comments

[someyoungpup]

Jeff wasn't sure what to expect, but then again, he hardly ever did. He enjoyed living spontaneously, and since the school where he worked was still on Christmas break, he didn't have anywhere pressing that he had to be. It was as good of a time as any for his newest excursion. Jeff wondered if what he was doing was creepy, and if Alan was with a parent, would they shove him right back on the train as soon as he stepped out?

When the train jerked to a stop, all second guessing left Jeff's mind. He was in Boston now, and he was damn sure that his time wasn't going to be wasted. After gathering his things and putting on his coat, Jeff followed the line of people out the train and into the station.

With a loose grip on his duffel, Jeff pursed his lips to the side in thought, looking through the people for any sign of Alan. Halfway shoving his way through the people, Jeff approached what he assumed had to be Alan, judging from what he remembered of his picture. He grinned. "Shouldn't you be out operating a wheat thresher?"

[alan_shore]

Alan was no idiot. For all that he liked Jeff, for all that he wanted to be liked by Jeff, he knew better than to entrust his fate to the dubitable good nature of an adult. He had therefore taken the precaution of committing the relevant details of the meeting--time, place, parties involved--to a piece of paper he had then concealed under his pillow. That way, it wouldn't give his parents unnecessary cause for concern (or admonishment or grounding) but could be easily discovered if something were to go awry.

(Not that it would--"according to plan" was practically Alan's middle name.)

So it was an excited, somewhat awestruck Alan, untroubled by thoughts of kidnapping or dismemberment, who hopped off the train and waded into the crowd, searching for a man he'd never actually met.

Jeff found him first, caught him gawking at a chocolate shop (why would you put a chocolate shop inside a train station? did it sell train-shaped chocolate?). For an instant Jeff was just another adult--tall, muscular, with a scraggly patch of facial hair

[someyoungpup]

"I didn't know what conducting a train looked like." Jeff replied, shrugging his shoulders. He slipped his free hand into his front pocket, hooking the thumb around the outside of his jeans.

"Something else I don't know shit about..." he paused, shifting his weight to his back foot. "I can say "shit" around you, right? Is Boston. I've never been here, so I'm pretty much counting on you to play tour guide."

Alan looked pretty much the same as his picture, but was still younger than the eighth graders Jeff dealt with on a daily basis and felt a little out of his element. Strange cities were easily conquered, that was no problem. Kids on the other hand, well, that took more work.

[alan_shore]

"Yeah," Alan said, grin spreading over his face even as he chided himself to play it cool. "You can say 'shit.' Me and my friends curse all the time."

He suddenly wanted to stub his toe on something, slam his hand in a door just so he could hiss out a "Son of a bitch!" or bark "Chriiiiist" like an umpire calling a strike.

"Okay, this"--he stretched his arms wide as if preparing to embrace the building rather than describe it--"is the train station. South Station, to be precise. It was built in 1882 by General Rufus H. South, who used tamed monkeys to sand almost all of the wood and polish the metal. There's an eagle on top with a wingspan of eight feet. Not a real eagle, obviously, a stone eagle."

Some of these facts are even true!

"Do you have questions?"