Change of heart, p.6
Change of Heart, page 6
I yelped pitifully as the hand fell on my bony shoulder. Heavy and strong, it could pick me up easily. There was no way to fight. It was going to happen; the best thing was to just wait for it to be over.
The hand fell away, setting me free. Dropping to my knees with relief I looked to see the face of my hero.
He looked so stoic. Not seeming to notice the others trying to pull him off. Nate continued to hold the quarterback in an iron clad sleeper hold. Refusing to let go until I was safe. And slowly, Nate leaned closer until his lips were just inches from mine…
The alarm screamed like the legions of Hell. Ripping the earbuds out of position, I damn near threw my phone across the room, just to get it away from me, coming to my senses at the last possible second.
Taking the phone to its usual place on my desk, it beeped its happy bing as the charger clicked into place, the lightning bolt returning to the battery icon.
The office chair did a half turn of sheer momentum as I fell back into it. It was so real, even if my mental archives held no instance of such a thing happening. The way I remembered it; Nate had been part of the gang, as much a part of the teasing as the others.
Not the bullying though. He never stuffed me in a locker or played keep away with my backpack. Still, what was that about last night? Did he really love Terry Gilliam flicks? Or was there something else to it?
He’d been perfectly polite at dinner, which was easily put down to our parents being there. Except there was no tension. At least not for long. Far less than I’d expected, that was for damn sure.
We had one big thing in common for sure. We’d both had a parent die. It wasn’t quite the basis for a friendship, but certainly helped in understanding him better and, if I was honest, it was nice to have someone to watch with.
Mom was always too busy and kind of went off movies after what happened to Dad. Brenda and I would have film festivals in our dorm when we both had time, but that wasn’t going to be happening any time soon. The hate for Nate began to shrink, until there was almost nothing there at all.
I wasn’t exactly looking to form the relationship with him that our parents clearly wanted, no matter how sexy he was, but we could at least be friends. Keep each other company until school started again.
“Hey, Honey, good sleep?” Mom asked as I trudged into the kitchen.
“Satisfactory.”
“Glad to hear it.”
Filling up her travel mug with coffee, Mom headed to the closet-sized guest room she’d converted into an office, kissing me on the cheek as she passed. Even though she was working at home, Mom tried to keep up her usual schedule. It made things easier in all sorts of ways. I couldn’t help but feel a little lonely, left to my own devices, but knew she was doing what was for the best.
The stairs creaked under me as I returned to my room, taking my coffee with me. I didn’t have a safety mug but figured I would be okay if I were careful. Draining the cup like someone meant business, I put on my best, outdoor clothes, taking care to stuff a mask into my pocket, and headed out to see what I could see, without breaking the lockdown provisions.
Everything had its limits. The government was very clear about people going out in public. Something less well-defined was what exactly was meant but ‘public.’ Surely, they couldn’t stop people from going out into their own yards. As it turned out, the duplex, for all its issues, had a big one. Resolutely unmown, but pleasantly green just the same.
I would have stopped there. Satisfied with my small patch of nature, even if I did have to stay on our side, not that it was easy to tell the two halves apart. I would have stayed where I was, but something urged me to go further. A drive as mysterious as it was undeniable.
The duplex stood more or less by itself, in an area well clear of the urban bustle. Too ramshackle to be the suburbs, but too far out of downtown to be properly considered a ghetto. There were fences along both ends and around the back of the duplex. What remained a mystery was on the other side.
Scanning the spread of chipped white paint, constituting the back fence, I found a latch, set on the inside. One of the slide bolt things, painted over the last time the fence had been done, which, by the looks of it, was probably at least a good ten years ago.
The lock held fast, stiffened by time and dry paint. Giving it a bit of a wiggle, I managed to work it loose enough to snap it open, the gate, cunningly built into the fence, creaking open an inch from sheer inertia. Inching the gate even further, I stepped through into the unknown.
A thousand analogies hit at once. Mostly from fantasy stories, both literary and cinematic, The Secret Garden and The Chronicles of Narnia primary among them. Although no lions or snow queens were immediately apparent as I started away from the duplex, into the lush, green woods hidden behind it.
My boots fell rhythmically on the earth, coming into synch with the thrum of the dark and an ancient land. It looked like no one had been there in years, not a single branch broken, or signs warning against trespassing nailed into the tree trunks. As though anyone can actually own nature. It was here before us and would remain long after the last human was dead. Largely ending up the better for it.
It really did make me laugh sometimes, what arrogant monkeys we could be. Some, like Thorne, objected to being called an animal. I was intrigued to find out what he thought humans were. Animal, vegetable, and mineral the only options allowed by natural science. My dad was always well aware of what he was, his spot-on monkey impression making me laugh well into my teens.
Getting deeper into the woods, idly wishing I’d brought some breadcrumbs, I came to a pond that seemed a bit too deep to cross. Looking each way, it. Soon concluding going around wasn’t really an option either. Not on the first time out. Still not wanting to leave, I found a fallen log free of frost and took a seat, breathing in the scene.
Focused on the steady, comforting silence, I closed my eyes as the deluge came. A flood of memories, representing every era of my short life. The sort of flash that usually happens before you died. Going camping with my family, playing games in the park with Amber and Thorne, picking up meditation as a way to cope with Dad’s death. Things didn’t seem so bad when you thought you were somewhere else.
Amber had taught me all about perception manipulation and transcendental meditation when she dove into that world for herself. Giving me books on internal realms and the like. I didn’t really believe in it until I gave it a try. One glimpse was enough. Not to make me jump down the rabbit hole with her, but to convince me that things could change depending on how you looked at them.
It hadn’t been planned, but it rarely was. Sometime during the beginning of the deluge and the end, I’d dipped into my internal realm. Things had expanded over the years, as I’d expanded my mind and gotten more skilled with visualization. What had started out as a simple, but peaceful field, of no particular location, expanding into a lush mountain valley, white caps reaching into the clear blue sky. Surrounded on all sides by thick woods straight out of paradise.
It was nice to get away once in a while.
Chapter Ten - Nate
The phantom rooter haunted my dreams, calling me back the world of the conscious. Once again beating my alarm, which I still only set for the sport of it. Even though the digital version was so far behind as to almost be sad.
Seven jumping jacks later, still in nothing by my jockeys, I got into my tracksuit, ready for some training. The first few days home had been relatively calm, my mind still settling down from the transition out of student life. Hiatus was far from retirement though, and I had to keep up a basic level of fitness for when school started again.
“Morning sleepyhead,” Dad teased as I went down for breakfast.
“Morning, Dad.”
It was a mystery for the ages how he routinely managed to be up and at ‘em before me, even while I was in training, but the fact still remained he consistently was. He couldn’t have gotten more than three hours a sleep a night.
“Hungry?”
“Sure.”
“Eat up.”
Dad put a high protein breakfast, drawn from newly bought preserved meats, in front of me. I still missed Mom, but as far as single dads went, I had nothing to complain about. He could be annoying on occasion, but who wasn’t?
Belly full and motivation high, I exited the kitchen and went at a fast walk to the forest gate Elise had told me about. Things had been going pretty well in that respect. We’d both been at the duplex for just over a week, without any major incidents. The worst things had really gotten was that first coffee.
Tensions as high as they’d been when we were at high school before I left for college. Raging and mutual, the animosity hadn’t quelled in the last year or so. Old wounds aching in unison. How things changed so radically was as baffling as when I saw her again for the first time, but there it was.
All it really took for us to break through that seemingly impenetrable wall was to basically give each other a chance. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure how I’d gotten along without her. The girl I’d considered an antagonist, or at least someone I didn’t like, was very rapidly becoming one of my closest friends. Mostly by necessity, granted, but initial desperation had led to something more. Particularly when we discovered how much we had in common.
The gate creaked open, giving access to a different sort of world. I never would have guessed that such a landscape could be hiding behind the duplex, I’d lived there much of my life but had never noticed the gate. It usually helped to have a second pair of eyes; you never knew what you might find.
Taking it slow down the hill, trying not to lose my footing, I set off at a steady jog, swinging off to the right to more easily circumvent the pond Elise warned me about. I had limited time, having landed the job I’d interviewed for on the spot. I only had a little while before my first shift, but I was nothing if not efficient.
Winding through the standing trees, like a wild born thing, getting more in touch with wherever it was existence derived from. The pound of my heart in my ears reminded me that I was alive.
Dad had disappeared when I got back. Returned to the depths of his home office/gym. A unique combination to be sure, but he was always clear that one should work out one’s mind as well as one’s body. His influence was the most likely origin of the notion that going to school on a sports scholarship didn’t mean coasting. It was possible to achieve some sort of balance. Using on to help the other. The old Jocks v. Nerds trope, only really existed in broad, low-budget fiction.
The tap knob shrieked as I turned it. The slumlord had fixed the plumbing, or at least so he had claimed. He probably just clanked around with a wrench for a while, to make a show of it, making it worse if anything. I would undoubtedly have to go back to using the shower on the other side, at least for the foreseeable. A prospect that held much less terror now that we were all on good terms.
It was like the mirror joke used in old TV shows, Elise and I reaching the sizable gap in the wall at the same instant. She had apparently had the shower idea as well, albeit a little earlier, and was still trying to tie the towel around her lovely raven hair. Much to the detriment of the one wrapped around her body, the tuck coming loose, and the towel fluttering to the floor.
There was a time I would have been paralyzed in wonderment. The sight of her beautiful body held me in place, never wanting the moment to end. I wasn’t thought. Difficult as it could be to compartmentalize, Elise was my friend, and she was in a spot of bother.
Eyes on the floor, I sprang into action and hopped through the gap, picking up the towel, wrapping it back around her before she even had time to cover herself with her arms. Without a word, I tucked it in tight, trying to ignore the way my thumb brushed the curve of her breast as I did, and returned to my room until the coast was clear.
Bringing my clothes in with me, I made use of the shower on the Vaughn side, and headed out, bus fare jingling in my pocket like percussion.
The images wouldn’t leave, not matter what I tried. Elise had the sort of body you never forgot once you saw it. I could only hope it wouldn’t affect our friendship too negatively. It could be difficult to get over something like that. Even though it had seemed like a good idea at the time. For the moment, it seemed a good idea to give her space.
I’d grown up in the city, and there was nowhere I couldn’t get on a maximum on two buses. One down into town, and a second wherever I was going. A particularly easy transition back when transfers still existed.
In a show of proper diligence, I arrived in uniform, which didn’t stray that far from what I usually wore, consisting of black slacks and a polo shirt with the company’s logo. Everyone wore basically the same thing, aside from the manager who got to wear short-sleeved dress shirts and I tie. I made a note to actively campaign against promotion, while still keeping my job.
An ironic blast of arctic air struck smack in my face as the doors slid open before me. It felt a little strange, just blowing across my eyes and forehead. I still wasn’t used to the mask over my face.
Hanging a right at the produce, following the directions I’d been given over Skype, I made for the employee area, down the same corridor that led to the bathrooms.
“Gattis?”
“That’s right.”
“Sign in over there.”
The supervisor was direct, but there was no malice. As long as I followed orders, we would have no reason to conflict.
Putting my John Hancock down next to my name, printed on the ledger, my first shift officially commenced, the cart of fruit boxes surprisingly heavy as I pushed it out into the store proper.
Stocking could be very Zen when approached properly. One moment blurring into another into a strand of eternity with no beginning or end. Useful for passing the time until the end of shift.
Lunchtime was growing near, the hands on the wall, visible only to those looking for it, inching along as The Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” played softly from the speakers. Anything could become normalized given enough time.
The pineapples were placed just so in their bin, when trouble on two feet came strolling into the store, like an old west outlaw.
Aside from the copious tattoos and beefy frame, the most noticeable thing about the new arrival was his total lack of mask. My experience with Mike had taught me about judging by appearances, but not wearing a government mandated mask, the signs very clearly displayed on the door, went beyond a fashion choice. The regulations were clear. A staff member had to tell him to wear a mask and, as it happened, I was the only employee around. Straightening up to my full height, I walked over and hoped for the best.
“Please put your mask on, sir.”
“The fuck did you say?” Mr. Beefy demanded.
“You have to put a mask on, sir,” I said, unwavering.
“Fuck you, short-ass. I’m an American, I don’t have to do nothin’. Ever heard of the constitution ya commie fuck?”
“Yes, actually, I’ve read it in fact. All twenty-seven amendments.”
“T-twenty-seven.”
“And I didn’t see anything that said American citizens can do whatever they want. Not even the First Amendment, which really only applies to the government making laws restricting freedom of the media.”
He looked like he was carved out of stone. Not a single muscle moving as he processed the information overload. A momentary stillness instantly replaced by instant and decisive action.
The artificial light struck the nickel-planted Desert Eagle in a way that made it gleam, like a holy icon. It was beautiful in a strange way. “Not so clever now, are ya?”
“No, though I’d probably be more intimidated if the safety was off,” I said, my voice steady and my eyes fixed.
It took a few seconds, but it happened, the barrel of the sizable pistol turning up and slightly to the side as Mr. Beefy checked on my bullshit. Sadly, for him, bullshit was exactly what it was. Plausibly true and masterfully delivered.
The first strike was most important. The butt of the hefty handgun striking the scourge square in the temple, taking him clear of his feet, even if I did have to stretch a bit to reach.
A mini earthquake set off through the immediate area as the giant hit the tiles. Every waft of breath seeming to come out in a single exhalation.
Gripping the barrel like a baseball bat, I made it so Mr. Beefy had no way of getting up as I brought the hammer down. Making sure he thought twice before trying such a stunt again. It took three security guards to get me off him. Mr. Beefy, and the immediate area looking like he’d been beaten with a sock full of ketchup.
Things were kind of a blur until I found myself sitting in the manager’s office, still reeling.
“Coffee?”
“Thanks.”
The Styrofoam cup shook as I took it, the black liquid turning and tossing like a tiny tempest.
“The police have been called, as well as the ambulance service,” the manager said, easing behind her desk.
“He’s, um… alive, right?”
“Barely.”
“Shit.”
“You really let him have it, Nathan.”
“He pulled a gun on me.”
“Hey, I get it, I saw the security tape,” she said, holding her hands up, “A clear case of self-defense. If anything, he’s going down for death threats.”
Seemed about right. Despite what I’d done to his face, the blood smudging the white cup as we spoke. The ache in my hand from gripping the gun barrel was slowly ebbing away.
“The cops weren’t called for me then.”
“Not at all. You should take the rest of the day off, though.”
“Okay.”
Hell of a first day.
“Is there anyone you’d like us to call?”
