It had been downpouring for what seemed like a whole day straight, and the heavy clouds the wind carried over Weaver Parish throughout that weekend weren’t holding back. Monday was off to a strange start by the moment Ivan had decided to finally call Hank and try to get a hold of whatever his side of the story was.

The phonebook was on the top drawer, and sure enough, Hank’s number and address were written on the first page along with Lou’s, as well as what seemed like four others entirely hidden behind scribbles. Ivan had no recollection of how long ago he had written those down, much less of when he had written them off. Still, being conscious of just how he knew exactly who those people were bothered him more than he was ready to remember when he picked up that phonebook after so long.

Hank’s number had never changed, and although he tried to get in touch with his family on more than one occasion, Ivan knew that was the number to call. As he dialed while half expecting to be directed to a disconnected number notice, he was almost startled by the realization that the phone had actually just rang once.

Three or four rings later, someone picked up. A female voice.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon”, Ivan replied, trying to sound as natural as he could. “I’m looking for Mister Henry Osterman, I believe this was his number.”

After a brief silence, the woman just said:

“Who is this?”

Ivan paused for a second as well. He had realized by now he didn’t recognize this woman’s voice, whoever she was.

“My name is Ivan, I’m a friend of Henry’s.”

No answer. However uncomfortable, he pressed on.

“I heard he was in town.”

“Please stop calling us”, the woman immediately said back in a single breath.

“Excuse me?”

“I already told you people, please leave us alone”, she continued. Her monotone voice had a strange sense of finality to it. “We don’t want anything to do with any of this. Don’t call this number again.”

“Ma’am, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.”

The woman hung up. It wasn’t even immediately, she still lingered a second or two in complete silence before the line went dead.

The muffled sound of the rain pouring against the old roof became much louder all of a sudden. Utterly confused and even a bit concerned by now, Ivan just stood there in front of the phone after resting the receiver. A blurry succession of shuffled thoughts spinned inside his head as he tried to piece together everything he had seen or heard about Hank’s return so far.

For some reason, whatever it was that was happening to Hank just kept unravelling into more concerning news. Between his sudden disappearance, his erratic approach at the gas station, his even more erratic approach toward Louis and the story he told about his time in the Institute, nothing so far seemed like good news except for the fact he was still alive. Maybe not even that was inherently positive in itself, Ivan concluded, which made him much more uncomfortable.

At any rate, having gone through the experience of actually calling his house and being greeted by this bizarre interaction definitely managed to unsettle Ivan to a degree he wasn’t quite ready to rationalize on the spot. There were many unsettling news crawling out of the woodwork recently, but something as close to home as Hank’s sudden return being wrapped in uneasiness to this degree could be the hardest to deal with so far.

As he stood there in silence, almost hypnotized by the sound of the rain and the falling waterdrops that poured in from the ceiling and into the overflowing pots and pans, Ivan could feel himself being taken aback the moment he heard a knock on the door. Unsure of who it could possibly be in a weather like this, he just stepped toward it and was surprised by the familiar sight of Bill across the smoky shade of the screen door.

“Ivan, hey”, he said, somehow excitedly, but with a visibly worried look on his face. “How’s it going?”

“Bill”, Ivan said in his usual monotone, a trademark of any interaction these two ever had.

“Are you busy right now?” he promptly asked.

Ivan took a moment to really get a good look at what Bill was even wearing at that moment. He was dressed in a heavy yellow raincoat, with his wide umbrella still open while resting on his shoulder. His thick glasses were sprinkled with water drops and foggy from the heat of his face. Something about this attire made it look like Bill was desperate enough to be out in this weather, and that was never a good sign.

“I’m kinda in the middle of something”, Ivan mumbled half-heartedly, not quite lying but not being quite sincere either.

“Oh, I see”, Bill said, trying to sound polite. “Well, can I talk to you about something? It’ll be just a minute.”

“You see, now’s really not a good time…”

“I understand, Ivan, but this is pretty important”, Bill quickly followed up. “Something showed up, I need you to take a look at it.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“Look, I don’t want you worrying about this any more than you have to, but… Maybe I should just show you.”

Ivan gave Bill a puzzled look of annoyance after taking a good look behind him and being reminded of how bad the weather was.

“You mean out there?”, he asked. “Right now?”

“It’s just over there, right before the creek, I promise it won’t take more than a minute.”

Ivan didn’t answer. He was half invested in coming up with an excuse, half invested in coming up with an efficient way of telling Bill to annoy him some other time. Bill, however, seemed both halves invested in convincing Ivan to go see whatever it was.

“I can lend you my umbrella, if you need”, he said.

“Fine, let’s go, let me just get my raincoat”, Ivan said. He was about to close the door when Bill added:

“Oh thanks a lot Ivan, I promise it’ll be quick.”

“Whatever you say”, Ivan grunted, going for his coat hanger just beside the door. “I swear to God, Bill, this had better be important.”

“Trust me Ivan, this is huge.”

—

Draped underneath his comically large military cloak-tent that made him look like a tarp thrown over a mannequin, Ivan stared in sheer disbelief as Bill stood beside him in the rain.

In front of them, the chainlink fence by the rear end of the property stood tall beneath the creek’s treeshade as the water poured down the leaves and branches. Except this time, there was a hole at the bottom, with the wires torn out and a muddy patch of excavated earth where the grass should be, at least three feet in width. A beige-colored puddle of rainwater formed in it, hiding its actual depth, but judging from the width it must’ve been at least two feet deep.

Staring at the hole in the fence from underneath his tent-shaped oversized olive hood, seeing his breath against the cold of the rainy afternoon, Ivan’s blank stare slowly slid toward Bill’s yellow-draped figure as his usual monotone let out a single:

“So?”

“It was like that as soon as I walked by this morning”, Bill diligently added, gesturing toward the fence.

Ivan wasn’t entirely sure if he was supposed to say something, so he just added:

“Yes, and?”

“Uh, well”, Bill continued, starting to sound like his usual nerve-wrack of a self. “It wasn’t like that yesterday.”

“So?” Ivan said once again, a notch or two louder. “What do you want me to do, you want me to fix it? Is that why you brought me here in the middle of the rain?”

Confused by Ivan’s anger, Bill couldn’t think of much else to do besides just stare at him.

“Ivan, this is serious”, he’d add soon after. “You and I could be in danger.”

“Why? Because of a hole in a fence?” he said back almost on the same beat. “It’s not even big enough for a person, are you scared someone is gonna crawl through it, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not someone, but… I dunno, maybe?”

“See what I mean? You don’t even know why you’re scared.”

“Of course I do!” Bill protested, clearly starting to look more and more agitated. “Don’t you follow the news?”

“No, Bill, I don’t follow the news”, Ivan lied. “Because I know better than that. I already told you a million times, stop worrying about stuff just because the TV told you to.”

“Ivan, please, let’s be reasonable for a moment” Bill protested once again. “The RBC representative already stated that we could be facing a containment crisis this winter, we’re already on yellow alert because of the ki—”

“I don’t give a shit what the zoo people say because they’re a bunch of bums”, Ivan boomed across the pouring rain, clenching his fits to each side as he shouted. “This country was doing fine before these parasites came along, and now they want to act like they own the place. Bunch of fucking fascists, is what they are.”

Bill wasn’t really sure how to react besides just staring in silence and genuine concern.

“I got enough bullshit to deal with because of these clowns, I don’t need you dragging me out of my house in the pouring rain just because you’re scared of a fucking hole in a fence.”

“Ivan, I just called you here because this concerns you just as much as it concerns me”, Bill tried to explain. “Especially since, well, you know, this part of the fence is on your side of the property, and all…”

“You want me to pay for it, is that it?”, Ivan said, gesturing to himself with both hands. “Fine, get a contractor, ask for a quote, put it on my tab along with last month’s rent, do whatever the fuck you want. It’s your property.”

He started walking the way they came as he continued:

“I don’t care how much they’re charging, if it means you’ll stop hogging me about this shit I’ll pay every single penny, now fuck off.”

As Ivan stomped away across the mud, Bill shouted:

“It’s not about the money, Ivan, you know it.”

“It’s just a hole in a fence”, Ivan shouted over his shoulder, dismissively, over ten paces away at this point, the sound of the rain almost drowning out his voice.

“Ivan, come on!”

“It’s just a hole in a fence.”