Tatalov stared at the phone...

Two months, it had been two months since he had left New York. Two months since he had said goodbye to Lyra. Two months since he'd been arrested. She must hate him.

Slowly, Tatalov began dialing. Each number seeming to weigh more on his mind than the pervious one. As he finished and the line began to ring, he wondered what he would say, what could he say? Sorry I vanished on you, I went to San Francisco and got arrested. What sort of situation was that? Before he could think about it any more, the line clicked through.

Silence... Tatalov wondered if maybe the call had gone to voice-mail, but he couldn't leave voice-mails on a call like this so someone had to have picked up. "Hello?..." he asked, hoping, praying that someone was there.

Nothing

He didn't  know what to do. Should he hang up and try again? No, someone had to be there. Lyra had to be there. Steeling his resolve, he took a deep breath and spoke into the phone.

"Look... I'm sorry... if I had known this would happen, I would have said something, I would have told you. I wanted to keep my word, I swear I did, but I...couldn't. Things changed, things out of my control, and I couldn't." Tatalov could feel a sinking feeling in his chest as he kept talking, maybe there was no one there. No, he couldn't think that now, if he stopped now, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to say what he needed to again. "I just was trying to help... like you would. I was trying to be a better person, someone worth trusting, someone who helped people... And I was! I actually helped someone. For the first time in my life, I thought more about someone else than I did myself, because of you." Tatalov paused, hoping for some kind of reply. However he was met with only silence. His mind spun, his speech getting faster as he continued. "...I just wanted to be able to look you in the eyes and not feel like I don't deserve the kindness you've showed me... Like I'm a fraud, pretending to care when all I care about is myself. I..."

"Tatalov..." the voice was quiet, barely even over a whisper, and yet hearing it stopped and train of thought he had.

"Lyra? You don't know how good it is to hear your voice. I wanted to..."

"Tatalov..." Lyra cut him off. Her voice shaky, but firm, "...are you okay?"

"...Yes..." he replied. Taking a moment to calm himself. "...I'm fine. A bit bruised but I'll be okay..." Hearing her voice for the first time in two months felt like a weight he didn't know he was carrying had been lifted off him. Nothing mattered but this moment, this conversation, everything else could be dealt with later. "What about you? How are things in New York?"

Lyra was quiet, but Tatalov could hear some small sounds through the phone, was she... crying? The thought fell on him like a ton of bricks. "Idiot..." came Lyra's answer after a few moments. "...how can you ask me that when you're in prison?! You know Lee came by asking where you were? What was I supposed to tell him? That you were missing? Dead?!" Her voice trembled as she spoke and yet there was a note of happiness and relief in it too. 

"That old man actually was looking for me?!" He exclaimed, unable to keep himself from laughing as a smile spread across his face.

"Yeah... he was," Lyra said, her voice slowly getting overtaken by a shared laughter with Tatalov.

He lost track of time after that, his conversation with Lyra spiraling into different stories about how things were going back in New York. Only stopping when a guard tapped him on the shoulder signaling that Tatalov needed to finish up. Quick words were exchanged between the two of them with promises for more calls when possible before he hung up.

That day, despite being in a small Jail cell, Tatalov slept peacefully, for the first time in a long... long while

Tatalov felt the wind against his face as the truck drove across the Washington Bridge into New York. It had been so long since he'd seen it and yet the New York skyline look just how he remembered it. The skyscrapers reaching up into the sky like metallic talons, reaching for some treasure that was always just barely out of reach. It had been a long journey, 7 long months. He would be happy if he never saw San Francisco again after that. The truck rolled to a stop as they entered the city and Tatalov hopped out, grabbing his bag as he did. He waved to the elderly couple as they drove off. They had given him a lift since Parsippany which had given him some time to get some much needed rest. He picked up his bag and began the last leg of his journey. The walk would normally bore Tatalov to hell, but this time was different. This time, every step was a step closer to home.

Tatalov chuckled to himself, home... Now that's a word that he hadn't thought about in a long time. And yet, it was the most accurate word he could thing. It was where he felt safe, where the world seemed manageable. It was where people who cared about him, the people he cared about were. The sights and sounds of the city began to once again fade into background noise as he got ever closer. As he rounded the bend onto the all too familiar street, he saw a familiar figure standing out front of the lot where Lyra's van should be. The long plaid scarf was instantly recognizable. After all, Tatalov would have passed it thousands of times.

"Jerard?" He called out in surprise. The man turned and waved before jogging over to him.

"Like a bird on the summer winds we return to where we started." He said, coming alongside him and patting him on the shoulder. His usual air of attempted wisdom was just as strange as when he had last heard it and yet now it seemed more of a comfort than an annoyance.

"It's good to see you too Jerard..." Tatalov said as they walked. "and it feels good to finally be back."

Jerard smiled, "it's good to see you back." The two of them rounded into view of the lot as a familiar truck came into view. A set of small tables and chairs had been set up around it and sitting at one of them was Old Man Lee and...

Tatalov nearly broke into a sprint as he rushed over to the table, throwing his arms around Lyra. The two of them didn't say anything to each other for what felt like minutes. Finally, Lyra spoke. "Don't you dare disappear like that again. You had me..." she caught herself, "...us, you had us worried sick. No one could find you and then your first contact in months is from a prison in San Francisco?!" Lyra held him at arm's length, staring at him like she couldn't quite tell who he was. Tatalov didn't know how to respond. He couldn't just tell her about his contracting work, there was too much he stood to lose. All he could do was hang his head in silence, unable to meet her gaze any longer. Lyra nodded and looked over at Lee. "Could you, give us a minute?" Lee nodded, standing and heading over to Jerard. Lyra sat down at the table, motioning for Tatalov to do the same. After making sure Lee was out of earshot, Lyra leaned in, "Did this have something to do with your hand?" she whispered.

"What?" Tatlov responded in shock "what does my hand have anything to do with this?" Lyra glanced away shamefully. "What happened to my hand has nothing to do with..." he paused, realizing that wasn't what she meant. "You mean... from the night we met huh." Lyra nodded slowly

"I... didn't really understand what it was, so I didn't say anything." she said, still not meeting his gaze, "It was only for a minute while I was propping you up after you fainted, but yes, I saw." Tatalov nodded slowly. "I'm not going to pretend like I could understand what sort of life you have. Clearly it is beyond anything I could imagine. All I want to ask is, is what you said when you first called me true? Are you doing this because you want to help people? Not because of hate, not for some selfish reason. Are you trying to do something good?"

Tatalov thought long and hard about his answer. He definitely started contracting for selfish reasons, but after what happened in San Francisco, he wasn't quite sure anymore. Perhaps his motives had changed, perhaps he wasn't the same as when he started. Both the contractors and people he had met had shown him that he was capable of more than just anger and resentment, that he could be more than those things. That was the person he wanted to be now, no... That is the person he would be.

"Yes... yes I am"

Tatalov stapled the last poster to the board, they weren't a miracle of graphic design, but they weren't bad either, guess his work on logo design and advertising could actually come in handy for once. Hopefully these posters would be able to drum up some more business for the food truck. Things had actually been going pretty well for them. They were getting enough customers that they could possibly think about expanding, maybe getting a second truck for a more mobile location, maybe do some pop ups at events or something.

He knew Lyra didn't want to turn the business into some big brand and that was fine with him, the world had enough Ceos, plus she would definitely not like the idea of wearing a suit or attending meetings. Tatalov also didn't really care for such a thing. He was fine staying as far away from the cooperate world as one could in New York. Even so, some extra money wouldn't be bad, it would take some pressure off of Lyra's personal funds and maybe even allow both of them to get some savings.

Either way, Tatalov was happy. He was doing something good for someone he cared about, that was enough. "Maybe, just maybe" he thought looking down at his hand, "maybe things can be normal again"

"Come try the New Yorker's Minute!"

Cheap-Local-Food

"Look for the yellow van somewhere near you!"

"Something new every day!"