The harvest would be poor this season, again, and Jacob did not appear surprised in the slightest. Even spying from a distance, Dahlia could tell that it had been years since this once prosperous land returned his efforts. He stood at the derelict barn's entrance, facing the wide expanse of pale, immature wheat. Remnants of Sunday dinner at the main house were barely audible. He leaned on an ornamental hoe planted in the soil that he only used as a cane. A distant voice interrupted the peace.
"I knew you'd be here. And on that cobweb collector again. Come back to the party." Footsteps crunched on the crisp gravel, drawing near.
Jacob turned his head to the approaching man. "In the last 15 minutes, I watched 5 'distant relatives' drive off. Party's over. Time to go home, Aaron. You know we don't have room for a sleepover."
Aaron maintained his approach, covered in tan linen lighter than his pale complexion. "What'd you mean? There's a lush pile of hay right back there calling my name." Aaron nodded to the barn. Dahlia took a glance herself. Its chipping paint piled up like grated parmesan. She felt peckish.
"Ha! You'd be all but asking for a loose ceiling panel to finish you off," Jacob said, fidgeting his bronzed thumbs. "But for you, maybe that's more of a blessing than anything."
Aaron arrived just beside Jacob, joining him in observing the sad bristles that made the field. "Hilarious. Still, maybe next harvest will let you fix her up."
"Doubt it. I figure God will probably make me repent a little while longer."
Aaron turned to Jacob with piercing hazel eyes and a creased brow. "You! Why are you still so stuck in the past? When will—"
"My whole world is falling apart." He pointed the hoe's end to the expanse. "Because all that kept it together–all these years–was either blood or grain, and both have run dry."
He lowered the blade back to his feet, both hands resting atop the handle. They watched the sun's descent, the sky reddening, shadows of wheat shuffling, held captive by the soil, heads held low. Dahlia thought it was quite a picturesque moment. Then a loud thud sounded out behind them from within the barn.
Jacob smirked and squinted at Aaron. "See? That would've been your midnight blanket. But by all means…" He outstretched his palm to the barn's entrance with a small bow.
Aaron stared at him with a disappointed vacancy and pursed lips, until he snorted in an attempt to hold back unexpected laughter, which made Jacob chuckle too. Dahlia couldn't help but also crack a smile tucked away behind the shrubs.
"At least these days we can actually laugh through a bad hand," Jacob said.
"Yeah, fuck that dusty, old warehouse. Gave me grays way too early," said Aaron.
There was a momentary pause. Jacob's eyes fell, and his smile twisted with a heavy blink. "Aaron, do you ever feel guilty? I mean, we never hurt anyone… ourselves." He paused. "But our words sent so many—"
"What did I just say about being stuck in the past?" Aaron interrupted. "You escaped. You never even hurt anyone. And you're not who you once were, either." He gripped Jacob and gave him a light jab on the shoulder. "Let's head back, man. I'll finally get out of your hair."
They started to the main house, and Dahlia was pleased to see Jacob's spirits rise.
"I really gotta get your ass to leave now. Want something on the way out?" Jacob asked.
"A beer?."
Jacob laughed. "Come on, you don't mean that! Don't you still go to those meetings?"
Their voices grew indiscernible as they arrived.
"Clara wants me to keep it up." Aaron responded, "Prays every night, 'Oh Saint Ferdinand, guide my love from his chains at the temple's peak.' Temple? That place? So dramatic. That place is as much a temple as my flat's a confessional."
Bingo. Something useful. Dahlia felt relieved. She stopped peering through the binoculars and began packing up her photographic equipment, but she let the parabolic microphone relay the rest of the conversation in the meantime.
"Hey, but you've been clean for the longest time now, right?" asked Jacob.
"Man, I got over all that myself. I'm thinking next session will be the last time I go. I don't even wanna go to that one either, but I already told the Father I'd attend."
Aaron reached out and opened the front door, holding it open well after Jacob entered. He continued talking to him through the doorway.
"We leave in a month anyways, and I'm not definitely not doing these meetings in the States. Probably cost a fortune for half the time from what I've heard."
He paused for a moment with a glance to the eaves above, door in hand, then pointed upward with a shake.
"Hey, you know, Maybe you and your family should come wi–"
Then Aaron entered the house behind Jacob, and his voice became completely inaudible.
Dahlia turned off the speaker and packed it with the rest of the equipment.
Man, what a waste of skilled men.