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fifty-six Mercedes 300 SL Gullwing,” he explained patiently.
    â€œCool. A buddy o’ mine, actually his brother, has a Gullwing. But, it’s, like, a cycle.”
    â€œThat’s a Goldwing. A Honda Goldwing,” said Ty as he made eye contact, trying hard to be nice. “Hey, I left my wallet at home. Could you spot me the coffee? I’ll come back and pay for it later.”
    He waited as the kid pondered for a solid ten seconds in blank concentration. Finally Ty repeated, “I’ll pay you back.” Then, trying to clinch it, “I’m good for it.”
    â€œUh, yeah, okay,” said Todd. “But you gotta do it before my shift ends.”
    â€œSure. Thanks,” said Ty.
    Todd consulted his black plastic Timex. “Uh, I’m off at eight.”
    Suddenly Ty’s stomach failed him. “Bathroom?” he croaked.
    â€œUh, it’s just an employee lavatory, but—”
    Ty couldn’t wait and leaned over the tall Rubbermaid garbage can adjacent to the Slim Jims and herbal energy drink display and vomited up a jaundiced, ninety-two-proof Scottish barf. Feeling better instantly, he wiped the spittle from his mouth and chin and focused on Todd’s grimace.
    â€œSorry,” said Ty. “I don’t feel too good. I’ll tell you what…,” as his eyes dropped to the name badge, “Todd. I don’t think I can make it home and back that fast, so I’ll bring it back tomorrow with a tip for you. How’s that?”
    Todd narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Uh, yeah, okay.”
    Ty poured a jumbo coffee and as he turned to walk outside, the same news headline that captured Todd’s attention caught his eye:
    Weyerhaeuser Man Missing
    Sheriff Acknowledges Few Clues
    A longtime Weyerhaeuser employee, Joseph D.Wylie, disappeared Tuesday morning while working his shift eight miles northeast of Index. Wylie, 47, a timber steward for the company, was investigating a report of a large number of broken trees on Weyerhaeuser land when he vanished. According to police sources, his truck was found on a company-maintained access road, out of gas, with the ignition key in the “on” position. Wylie’s supervisor, Jack Kelleher, said that Wylie had been with the company for more than 20 years and was a good employee. “Joe wouldn’t just take off like that. There’s got to be something wrong,” said Kelleher. Weyerhaeuser officials were working with the Snohomish County Sheriff’s Department in investigating the matter. A sheriff’s spokesman acknowledged the agency had no solid leads in Wylie’s disappearance. The police report also mentioned the presence of alcoholic beverages found in Wylie’s vehicle. A resident of Monroe, Wylie has a wife and two children.
    Ty was riveted by two words: broken trees. Badly hungover, he focused hard, reading and rereading the short article, slowing each time to savor those two significant words. Ty wondered if the article was a cruel joke, perpetrated by the gods to tease him at his lowest ebb. But Ty also felt there was something to fate or coincidence and that maybe he was supposed to see this story at this exact point in time.
    â€œHey, uh, Todd, mind if I take a copy? There’s something in here I need.”
    Since unsold copies of the Snohomish Daily News got shitcanned anyway, Todd didn’t really care. “Yeah, okay,” he shrugged, “just add that on.”
    This news of the possible misfortune of another had given Ty a reason to live a little longer.

    While Jack Remsbecker hated the first five hundred yards of the trail, since it only pointed out how he needed to quit smoking, his hiking partner loved it. Mitch saw it as a metaphor for his career, his life. Things had been grueling in his twenties but then the trail of life smoothed out and now he could manage whatever fate handed him. He enjoyed his life and felt pity for Jack’s