“Really? I didn’t know that, Howard.” I had responded. Howard looked up at the stars.

“Yes, they’re all out there, somewhere.” He said. Then Howard turned to me, wearing a dreamy expression. “Do you want to know something, Lucas?” He asked.

“Sure. What?” I answered, interested to hear what Howard had to say.

My cousin stared back up at the sky.

“There’s one exoplanet… it’s part of a planetary system that revolves around a large, orange coloured star… a star that is much larger than our sun… ten times bigger, easily. Do you know what a ‘habitable zone’ is, Lucas?” Howard asked me. I shook my head. “Well, a ‘habitable zone’ is a location… an area… of a solar system where the conditions are just right for life to exist. Our Earth is in such a zone… and possibly Mars, too, though that appears to be a dead world, now. Anyway, the orange coloured star that I was telling you about… it has three planets circling it that all fall into a habitable zone. One of those planets, just like Mars, is dead. There’s nothing on it. But the other two… they’re both thriving with life, Lucas. Intelligent life. Life like you wouldn’t believe.” Howard told me. I looked at him skeptically.

“How do you know all of that?” I asked. Howard continued to gaze upwards.

“Oh, there’s a lot of things that I know, Lucas, a lot of things. It doesn’t matter how I know… I just do.” He responded. Howard stared at me, and for the first, and only, time, I actually saw some real passion in his eyes. Then Howard patted me on the shoulder, smiled, and left me in the back yard, all on my own. We never talked about the subject again.

Later that night, I lay in bed, chatting to Kay about Howard. I mentioned what he’d told me earlier, about the two exoplanets with life on them. Kay found it amusing.

“I’m sure that it’s just guesswork on Howard’s part. There’s no way that he could know stuff like that for sure.” She commented.

“Yeah, I know that, but it’s the way that he said it… all deadly serious, and with such conviction.” I replied.

“He’s probably just trying to come across as interesting, mysterious and enigmatic.” Kay said. “Let’s face it, as much as I love Howard… he is pretty dull.”

“Aw, don’t say that. He’s a good kid.” I said, giving Kay a mild ticking-off. “I don’t know… it’s just not really like Howard to talk about something in that manner, with a spark in his eye… with some excitement. Usually, he doesn’t really try to come across as, well, anything… he just tells you things in that flat, matter-of-fact voice of his.” I reflected. Kay’s eyes widened.

“Say, you don’t think he’s been smoking anything weird, do you?” She asked, joking.

“Who? Howard? You’ve got to be kidding. He’s definitely not the type to do drugs… or booze, come to that.” I said to Kay. She snuggled up to me. It felt good being close to her; she made me feel warm and secure.

“Perhaps Howard’s a secret addict. Let’s face it, getting stoned off your face would perfectly compliment that music he likes.” Kay grinned.

“I thought that you quite agreed with Howard’s taste in music?” I commented.

“I do, and that’s how I know that it’s proper stoner stuff… but only for when you’re on a big come-down.” Replied Kay. “A couple of girls that I was at college with, Lindy and Samantha, they were a right pair of drugees… they’d listen to the same music as Howard, but always at the end of the evening, when coming off a high.” She laughed.

“Nah, there’s no way Howard’s getting up to anything like that. He’s too straight-laced for those sort of shenanigans. Actually, I dread to think what he might be like if he ever did get wasted.” I said. Now it was my turn to laugh, thinking about the prospect of a shit-faced Howard Trenton.

***

The bus trundled slowly down Leeton Lane, past Saint Bernadette’s church, and into the town of Coldsleet. Howard Joseph Trenton stared out of the bus window, as a small, disused industrial estate came into view. It was, up until recently, in the process of being demolished, but then the local council had run out of money. Some of the buildings remained, covered with graffiti, whilst others had been reduced to nothing more than rubble. A number of the residents in this part of Coldsleet had started to use the site as a dumping ground for all manner of household and garden waste. Howard gazed at a large pile of torn, black bin bags, that were stacked up against a partially collapsed wire-fence, which surrounded part of the industrial estate. A couple of rats shot out from under the bags. One of them slipped through a hole in the fence, whilst the other hurried away up a grass bank, towards an overturned sofa, away from the sound of the bus. Howard smiled at the sight of the rodents; they represented decay… he liked decay.

Howard Trenton got off the bus at Coldsleet Terminus. He took in a deep breath of cold sea air, tasting the nearby ocean. Instead of heading straight home, Howard walked in the opposite direction, towards a row of shops, all of which were in varying states of disrepair; Godwin’s Launderette, M Turner and Daughter’s Convenience Store and Off-Licence, Angela’s Snips, Coldsleet Books… Howard approached the stores, and spotted the sign of one that he was seeking in particular… ‘Steve’s Vinyl’. Behind Howard, the bus that he’d travelled back to Coldsleet on pulled away from the bus Terminus, beginning a re-tread of its journey to the neighbouring town of Elman. Howard stopped for just a moment and glanced back at the bus, before carrying on towards Steve’s Vinyl music shop. He pushed open the door, and a little bell that sat near the top of it gave a metallic jangle.

Inside the shop, behind a counter that was covered with trays containing compact discs, sat the owner, Steve Rushton, a short, portly man with heavily receded, long black hair, and a chinstrap-style beard. When Howard entered the shop, Steve smiled.

“Ah, Howard. Good to see you, my friend.” He greeted the teenager. Howard smiled back and nodded.

“You too, Steve. How’s business today?” Howard asked. The smile fell away slightly from Steve’s face.

“Same as it always is these days, Howard… not very good.” Replied the shop-owner, with blunt honesty.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Steve… maybe things will pick up in the spring, you know, when the tourists come into town.” Suggested Howard, in a small attempt to offer the record shop a slither of hope for the future. Steve gave a small, cynical laugh.

“In case you haven’t already noticed, Howard, Coldsleet doesn’t get many tourists these days.” Steve pointed out.

“Well, maybe this spring will be different.” Smiled Howard, optimistically.

“Maybe it will.” Responded Steve, with little confidence in Howard’s optimism.

Howard walked over to a series of horizontal, wooden racks, containing hundreds of vinyl albums that were separated out into alphabetical order. His eyes sought out those listed under the letter ‘G’, and then he began to flip through the albums. Steve came out from behind the counter and walked across to Howard.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” He asked.

“Yeah. There’s a new album out by ‘Godjite Puls'. They’re an Albanian band… instrumental. They usually do all of that hardcore techno crap, which I can’t stand, but I was reading in one of the music mags that they’ve released some new ambient, organic stuff… the review I read gave it a nine out of ten… I thought I might have a listen, see what it’s like.” Said Howard. Steve shook his head.

“You’re not gonna find it in there, Howard. I’ve never heard of Godjite Plus…”

“Puls.” Corrected Howard.

“Godjite Puls. I tend to only stock UK and US music.” Continued Steve. Howard stopped flipping through the vinyl, and turned towards the shopkeeper.