Logan's Story: A Sand & Clay Prequel Read Free

warehouse was bustling as his co-workers were loading boxes onto eighteen wheelers for deliveries that day.  Everyone was wearing a brace similar to his, along with hats and gloves, and orange vests with reflector tape.  
    “You’re late, mick.” Joey growled from behind the warehouse counter where he was marking packing slips as he glanced up at Logan.  
    “Sorry, boss.  Gig ran late.” Logan ignored the ethnic slur and grabbed his time card, punching it through the slot, and then replacing it on the rack.  
    “Like I haven’t heard that from your sorry ass before.”  Joey grumbled, not directly calling him out but making it clear he was irritated with Logan’s multitasking lifestyle. Logan just put his head down and walked out of the office and into the larger part of the warehouse, nodding to some of the guys on his way over to the last loading dock.  He hopped into a forklift and shifted the gears, picking up a pallet and taking it toward the truck.  
    The job was tedious and Logan hated it, but the paycheck was good since very few people eagerly worked twelve hour shifts beginning at three in the morning.  He was used to starting his days this early now and then taking an afternoon nap before he headed out for a gig or band practice. On his rare day off, he would sleep longer and then practice on his guitar. It was the only thing that soothed the exhaustion in his body and soul. Music was everything in his life and even as he hauled pallets onto a giant truck, he hummed songs in his head to remind himself of who he was.... or who he was going to be.  
     
     
     
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
     
     
     
    “Dad, wake up.  It’s almost dinner time.” Logan shook his father who was slumped over in his favorite chair in the living room, fast asleep.  Logan didn’t normally see him this tired, but his mother had been having a tough week and it took a serious toll on his father.  
    “Yeah, yeah, I’m up. What’s for dinner? You cooking?”  Mickey Clay asked his son as he yawned and achingly pulled his body out of the chair.  
    “Already made, but I only have a few minutes to eat with you guys before I need to leave for the bar.  We have a scout coming to see us tonight from New York New Music so I want to get there early for sound check.”  Logan said over his shoulder as he walked back into the kitchen and pulled the pasta off the stove.  
    He spilled it into the strainer sitting in the sink and shook off the excess water before pouring the noodles back into the empty pot.  Cracking open a can of diced tomatoes and some pasta sauce, he mixed them all together and threw on a bit of seasoning.  He put it out on the table and then pulled the garlic bread he had made earlier out of the oven where it was staying warm.  He sliced it up and threw some pieces in a bowl, placing it next to the pasta.  A few minutes later, the dinner table was neatly, yet humbly, set for three people and Logan could hear his parents heading out of the bedroom and toward him.  
    He stifled a yawn and decided to add a little caffeine to his meal, pulling a can of soda out of the fridge and cracking it open as his father walked by.  Logan glanced at him as he carried Logan’s mother, Laura Clay, in his arms and sat her gently in a special chair at the table.  It had been exactly twenty years since his mother had been in a car accident and lost all function below her waist.  
    The paralysis was only one of the resulting medical problems that the accident left her with and his father had been forced to quit his job in order to take care of her full time. Trips to dialysis and doctors filled his parent’s days and the doctor bills continued to fill their mailbox. Since there was no insurance or enough money to pay for a nurse, Mickey stayed home to take care of Laura and Logan worked to pay the bills. It wasn’t the average life for a twenty-five year old, but his parents were everything to Logan, he owed it to them.