Dukka:

The Cost of Dreams



"What are we doing here?"


She lays on her back as the faerie ring spins her slowly about, daffodils lighting her skin in yellow tones as I hover above, suspended by nothingness. Gray clouds shift shape above and I reach down, cupping her bare ribs to bring goosebumps up from below the skin. I kiss one breast, then the other.


"We're living. Just drifting here, alone, together."


"No, Steven." She puts a hand behind my neck, pulls me down, eye to eye. "You're living. You're barely living. When's the last time you ate? You sleep so much, now. I wish you didn't insist on dreaming so much." She wraps a leg around me, pulls me into a kiss, pulls me into reality.


I awake, sunlight streaming in to illuminate motes of dust that drift about the empty room. " I don't want to go on like this, though. Broken and alone."


Sitting up, I look at the closet, her dresses and blouses still hanging like drapes around one empty hanger.


She's there, stretching in the golden light, singing to herself as she slips into her favorite dress, a green one, light and gentle. She looks back over her shoulder, a twinkle in her eye and a soft, crooked smile.


"I love you. You can't stay here forever, time has to move on."


I don't want to.


She walks out the door and a few moments later, it's just me and the room again. This hollowness reverberates and eats at me, even now. I still hear it, the sound of a semi-truck slamming into her car at the end of our driveway, the shrieking rubber and the explosion as I ran screaming at the sheer realization that she was gone.


The phone rings: It's Miguel, I don't even have to look to know. It's always Miguel. I answer, like I usually do. "Hello?"


"Steven, my man, it's Miguel." He always tries to sound happy and bright, even if the worry comes seeping through the undertones. "How are you holding up, man? Think you can make it in? You know I wouldn't be asking but Paul's been starting to say that maybe you've quit. We miss you, man. It’s nearly been a month."


Kiara smiles from across the room.


"You should go, you can't dream in this room forever."


She's right and I know it.


"You know what, Miguel, you give me a few minutes and I'll head in. I can't hide in this room forever."


After a full minute or two of silence, Miguel cautiously asks "Are you sure, Steven? Think you're ready?"


"Yeah, Miguel, I'm sure. It'll be tough getting back into the swing of things but I'll manage."


Thirty minutes later and I'm at 'Paul's Mini-mall', staring down the all too familiar aisles, so-workers and regular customers watching as though seeing an alien life-form in front of their very eyes.


"It's okay." She smiles, nods, and places her hand on the small of my back, giving me the slightest push forward. My feet move of their own accord.


"You've been here before."


"Steven! When Miguel said you were coming in, I couldn't keep from getting excited! It hasn't been the same without you! What have you been eating? You're having lunch with me, no excuses." Paul's rotund figure bounces slightly as he talks, his red cheeks tightened by his smile.


"Well, it doesn't sound like I've much of a choice, now, does it, Paul? Where do you have me, today?"


"Where would you like to work?"


"In the back, if that's alright by you. I'm not so certain that I'm ready to be around a lot of people just yet."


Paul gives a somber, slow and knowing nod. "Of course, Steven. You can run inventory with the new girl, Erma. She really knows what she's doing, so you'll have a lot of your work cut out for you. I'm glad you're back."


With a friendly pat on the back, Paul leaves me to head back to the stockroom, an area I know intimately.


The store still smells and looks the same, with very little changing. The same brown boxes sit on cream colored shelves, a rainbow of fresh produce is visible against a backdrop of meat-stacked coolers that line the walls. The plastic double doors rattle, letting a sudden warmth and the smell of dust hit my nose as they swing open. The backrooms, somewhere I can simply get lost, are a maze that never ends and always shifts, leaving. Its explorers eventually get accustomed to the low lighting, the constant low hum of hidden machinery and fluorescent bulbs. Tall shelves that are ten, twenty feet high line these aisles. There are old dusty products that never sold, some of it desiccated, shrunken heads in boxes, left untouched for decades, abandoned by their caretakers, waiting for someone to come, touch them and swap places for something else.


"You're slipping again."


I know.


It's not easy, you know, going on alone after ten years with you. You don't have to face this. You don't have to deal with it.


"It was contained with my last breath. The breath that I held until I saw you one more time."


I didn't consider that. I'm sorry.


"You didn't know. It's alright."


"Are you alright, Steven?" A young girl, two or three years younger than me, if I'm honest, with disheveled hair and brown eyes is looking at me with obvious concern on her face.


"Uhh... Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, why do you ask?"


"You've been staring at that box of tissues for the past five minutes, mumbling to yourself."


"Oh, right. Am I to assume that you're Erma?"


"Yeah, I started last week, so you and I haven't had the chance to meet. I'd been told you were on indefinite leave due to family issues... I'm Erma Vandermerton. It's a mouthful, I know, though you should have heard it whenever I got into trouble. 'Erma Susanna Vandermerton, you get over here right this instant!' It was sort of funny, even back then. Anyhow, you're Steven Moore, I know it because you're on the employee of the month board like... six times in a row."


"Five, though it honestly doesn't matter. You'll see, it doesn't take much to succeed here, you just have to work."


"That sounds easy enough, when you put it like that. Paul told me that we'd be working together today, so I went ahead and got the pick list right here. We'll start in hygienics and work our way up."


"Sounds good to me. I guess Paul was right about you. Said you've got it together back here."


The next few hours weren't half as bad as expected and Erma proved herself to be more enjoyable company than I'd prepared myself for. Paul bought us burgers and fries from a local restaurant for lunch and we went back to running inventory.


"Well, it's time to head home. I'll see you tomorrow, Steve."


"Yeah... I'll see you tomorrow, too." The thought of going home brought a quiet, lonesome emptiness to mind. "I needed this. I needed a reason to get out of the house. Out of my head."


"You did good, Steven. You quit dreaming, if only for a little while. You made a new friend. Now, go home and work on learning to keep living after everything you dreamed of died." Kiara again, smiling sadly, a hand on my shoulder.


She's right, I know. I'm keeping myself miserable.


I get home with a quiet sigh and empty my pockets onto the table beside the front door.


"It's time."


I take her dresses and blouses down, putting them into bags to bring to the women's and children's shelter.


"I'll donate these later."


I clean all of her things, the hygienic, the knick-knacks, all of it. In the drawer in the bathroom, I find a diary and flip to the last entry.


March 8th:


We've been living together for two months now. It's been a major change for both of us. While not everything has been great(has he ever actually cleaned up after himself?), that's to be expected. It's so nice to see him every day, to sleep beside him and to just exist... together. We've so much to do together, so much of a life to share. Last night, we danced in the kitchen, laughing and how his smile shone. Feeling his arms around me, his hands on me. This is what I wanted from love.


March 8th... The Friday before my world snapped in two. I close the journal and stuff it into a bag with half a stick of deodorant and a new bottle of her shampoo. It feels unceremonious but I know if I don't throw it out, I'll sit there, obsessing over every little line written in it.


"I wish that I could help you." Her gentle eyes locked on mine as a hand brushes my cheek without feeling... without warmth to be found in the motion. She's not there and I know it, just a cruel trick being played out by my mind.


"I wish you could, too... I'm alone here now. I'm just another guy, standing around and dreaming up desires." How I'd loved the idea, for so much of my life, of losing the mundane aspect of living and for a few years, a single decade, I'd lived it. I'd seen my dreams come true for so short a time. The past few weeks in memory were a blurry stain, I'd get up and exist, turning on the television and staring at it. Tonight, I do the same, I pick a movie, a comedy and sit. The night rolls quietly by until, finally, I lay in the bed, my sheets and blankets a twisted mess.


The alarm clock is a violent cacophony of noise, startling my mind into overdrive as I try to deal with suddenly navigating toward it. Another day, dust motes drifting in the golden light. This is where I imagine you. It's when, half-conscious, I see you smile, dancing about, sparkles in your eyes. You laugh and flip your hair, looking over your shoulders. This morning, however, daydreaming doesn't feel quite as real as it did before. Reality's heavy weights are sinking in.


Throwing off the tangled mess of blankets, I get up and get dressed. Another day, another fight for my own mind. What day of the week is it?


"Vexer, what's today's date?"


"Today is Tuesday, April the second. The current temperature is 60 degrees. Have a good day, Steven."


Satisfied, I go to the kitchen and get coffee. Two spoons of sugar and enough creamer to just lighten the color. I go out, get into my car and head to Paul's. Paul is, as usual, at the front door, saying good morning to everyone coming into work. If anyone made a habit of showing appreciation, it was Paul. "Steven, two days in a row? Where do you want to be today? It's up to you." Paul's smile is as big as ever.


"I think I'll work stocking shelves with Miguel, as long as that's reasonable to you, Paul."


He pats my shoulder fondly. "That's alright by me, Steven. Just don't get too caught up in gawking at the girls with Mr. Rodriguez. He's a damn fine worker but easily distracted."


"I'll be sure to pass the message to Miguel and try to keep him in line, at least for today." Paul chuckles whole-heartedly. "With that attitude, you just might take my place one day."


"Maybe, Paul, just maybe." I head in, grab a tablet and get started on pulling items from the shelves for re-stocking.


"Hey, bro. Heard you're working with me, today. Get tired of working with the mouse that fast?"


"The mouse? Do you mean Erma? She's a sweetheart, man, don't give her mean names."


"Nah, Cabron, nothing mean about it. Don't you know that old story about the lion and the mouse? She's quiet, a bit shy but if you piss her off, it's hasta luego, muchacho."


"Hey, guys, I heard you decided to work the aisles today, Steven. Still trying to find your place?" Erma's come up behind us, her sudden interjection making Miguel and I jump an inch.


"Yeah, you know how it is, try one thing and head to the next."


"Well, I personally prefer it back here. I like the quiet. Whatever you do, I hope Miguel doesn't rub off on you... one way or another." With a grin and a giggle, she disappears into the next aisle, leaving Miguel stunned. He stares, dumbfounded.


"Damn, man, she got me good with that one. Dunno if I'll recover." He laughs, shaking his head slowly. "Come on, we'd better get to it. We can't have anyone saying we don't do nothing, eh?"


The shift went by peacefully enough, Miguel slowing to eye out a particularly attractive woman every so often. I met Kiara while working register four here.


It had been an autumn afternoon, the sun streaming in through windows facing a near empty parking lot. Her green eyes looked into and pierced mine, leaving my mind lost and begging for direction.


"Are you alright?"


Her teeth were coffee and nicotine stained, close and crooked behind lips with the smallest scar crossing them. Her pores were varied, open and clean. Thin, slightly crooked nose. At that moment, I was enraptured by her presence, her entire existence.


"Do I need to do something? Did I do something?" Her voice snaps me out of my trance.


"No, I'm sorry, it's been a long day, is all. Did you find everything you needed?"


She turns her head ever so slightly, so the sun sparks in her dark hair. "Actually, there's one thing I didn't get." She holds out a piece of paper and pen. "Your phone number isn't on any of the shelves, could you help me with that?"


Bewildered, I wrote my name and number down for her.


"Oh, Steven, I didn't need your name." A small grin, a nod to my name-tag, she pays and heads out, my eyes stuck focusing on the long, green skirt that billows in the gentle breeze. A skirt I'd come to know just as well as I came to know her.


"Anyway, we're about done here, Hombre, how about we grab some grub, eh, like old times?" Miguel's never been too great at hiding his concern and the situation's no different here. "I heard there's this new place in town, they got some of the best wings you've ever had."


Considering it, I stop and ask myself what else have I got going on? "You know, man, as good as that sounds, I think I'll take a rain-check. I'm sorry, bro, I just don't think I'm ready for all of that just yet."


"Aye, that's alright, amigo, no shame in doing your own thing." Miguel clocks out and with a "catch you later, bro" heads out and on his way.


"Why'd you pass? You're not going to just go home and be miserable, are you?" Erma, once again, had crept up on us and apparently had caught the exchange. "It's not healthy to sit around alone at home, I can guarantee that. So, what do you have planned?"


I can't let her know I don't have any plans but I find it difficult to give excuses. "Oh, I... I figured I could cook a pizza and play a shooter, you know? Something... quiet. I'm not ready for so much public interaction, yet."


"Not ready for public interaction?" Kiara pokes at my head, not making contact for obvious reasons. "What are you, daft? You work with the public, you goof!"


"I know, I know, I just want to be left alone for a little while and this is the easiest way."


"It won't work with this one."


"How about a movie, instead? I got this one called 'Lance of the Dragon's Heart', it's supposed to be really good. Lots of action in it." Erma's eyes shine with a particular determination. I'm not getting away with a "no" in this case, that much is obvious.


"Hell, I don't suppose it could hurt. Bring the movie, I'll get some pizza and sodas." I grab a pen and paper, write down my name, number and address. "Here, let me know when you're on the way."


"Steven, I didn't need your name." Erma laughs and I freeze.


"I... I'm sorry, old habits die hard, I guess."


"It's alright. I'd better get going, I need to get into more comfortable clothes, you know?" Erma nearly runs out of the backroom after clocking out, excitement clearly driving her with veritable force. I grab three pizzas and two 2-liters on my way out.


"I overheard your conversation with Erma, Steven." Paul's smile appears to be pasted onto his face still, masking any feelings that might be hiding beneath his ruddy, thick skin. "It'll be good for both of you. You need support and if I'm honest, her lack of friends has had me a bit concerned. Don't mind paying for the sodas. Can't give you everything for free but... I'll do what I can, you know that."


"I know, Paul. I can't express enough just how much I appreciate your patience and support." I meant it, too. Paul had been all but a father to me over the years.


He rests a hand on my shoulder. "It's good to have you back, Steve. It just wasn't the same... I was starting to worry I might have to make Miguel the store manager when I retire." He chuckles lightly.


"Well, you don't have to worry about that. I don't think Miguel would have taken it, anyway. You're right, though, it's not the same... but is it ever?" I give Paul a hug, tell him good-bye and head home. I clean the evidence of my laziness off the living room table and get changed into more comfortable clothes after a quick shower. My phone buzzes and checking it lets me know Erma will be over in about 25 minutes, so I start preheating the oven to 425F.


Once it's done preheating, I put the pizza in and sit back down, turn on the news and zone off. A knock at the door wakes me from an unexpected nap. "...if anyone knows of its whereabouts, don't-" I turn off the TV and check the door. It's Erma... in a skirt with her hair down. Opening the door, I look her up and down.


"Well, now, I didn't know this was a date."


Erma scowls playfully. "Look, I just wanted to feel cute for once, okay? Don't go getting any funny ideas."


"No worries, there." I chuckle. "Come on in and make yourself comfortable. I've got to get the pizza out before it burns."


Erma sits on the couch as I pull out the pizza. I hear the TV cut back on and a commercial plays for yet something else that no one actually needs. "You've got a really nice setup here, big couch and TV, nice sound system. Do you have guests over often?"


For a split second, I freeze. The lights shimmer and laughter comes from the living room. "That's how we met. He was just... right, so when he proposed, I knew the answer months ahead of the occasion." Kiara's laughter chimes, bouncing along the walls as I pull a few beers from the fridge.


"Not anymore. When Kiara, my late wife, died and I became reclusive, everyone sort of... stopped coming around after a while."


"Oh..." Erma's voice is sad... quieter, even. "I suppose I can understand that. Do you think they'll ever come back around?"


"I honestly doubt it. They were more her friends, than mine. Before she came around, I'd mostly stuck to myself. I don't hold any hard feelings about it or anything." I sit on the couch. "Where's that movie?"


Erma pulls the case out of her purse, handing it to me. The cover featured a handsome knight, a princess and a low-budget CGI dragon.


"Should be interesting" I thought to myself, putting the disc in. I grab our plates, bring them in and we watch an hour and a forty-five minutes of low budget acting, drama and gratuitous scenes.


"Well, that was fun, to say the least. We should do it again!" Erma's eyes light up at the idea as she suggests it.


"You know, honestly, I needed this, so I guess I'll say 'why not?'."


"Awesome! I'll try to bring some popcorn next time!" She gets her things together. "Well, I'd better get home. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Thanks for not making it weird!"


A quick hug and a good-bye later, I stood in my living room, conflicted.


"What's wrong?"


"This was our space. We made plans together, we had a future mapped out. Despite the company, I still felt so alone tonight."


"That's okay. You can't rush your healing, Steven. I'm proud of you. You're trying and that's all that you really can do in this situation."


"I know..." I put the plates in the sink, turn off the lights and head to my room. "It's just that.... we had some good times, you know?"


"I know, honey. You should make some more... Just without me, this time."


"As much as I don't want to, it looks like I don't have much of a choice."


"No, my love, no you don't."


Sleep comes easily enough, a gentle embrace I haven't felt in far too long. My dreams ebb and flow, quiet, peaceful meadows, myself alone. Eventually, my alarm interrupts the peace and another day begins.


"It's Wednesday, Steven." Kiara's voice comes calmly as I stop my alarms and sit up. "How do you feel?"


Better... I am... better. Still, you're here, so I guess I'm still unwell. I go through my usual routine and head to Paul's.


"What's it today, Steven, the register?"


"No, no, I doubt I'm even close to ready for that. The very thought brings your smile, Kiara, to mind like an anvil on my chest."


"I get it. The weight of loss never really leaves, though, you know? You just... keep going and growing. You hold the good memories and learn from the worst."


"I'm trying..."


"I know."


I pull into the parking lot at Paul's and take a deep breath. the anxiety of still living suddenly setting back in. Should I run?


"Aye, Holmes! coming back again? You'd best be careful, people might start to think that you actually work here!" Miguel's laugh is infectious as he walks into the store. I go ahead and get out of the car, into a crisp breeze and bright sunlight. I'll stock again, I'm sure that Miguel already has questions to ask about my evening with "the mouse". Word has a tendency to move pretty quickly at Paul's and Miguel tends to make assumptions toward the worst. As expected, Paul's smiling face greets me at the door, a little more twinkle in his eyes than usual.


"Well, Steven, I'd say that I hope you behaved yourself but I think that might imply I thought less of you." Paul gives a loud belly laugh. "I take it you'll be working with Miguel today, yes?"


"You certainly know the ins and outs of the place, don't you, Paul?" I chuckle "I'll be with Miguel, stocking today. Don't need any rumors flying about Erma and I."


"Neither do I, Steven. Rumors are a nasty business and they make for distracted workers."


I clock in, grab a tablet and get to work.


“Where's Miguel?” I ask myself. The day dragged on quietly. Once or twice, I had a customer ask for help. There was no rush, no chaos.


"Did you want chaos? I thought you wanted, that you dreamed of, a calm, peaceful life?" Kiara again, always the voice of my subconscious, it would seem.


"Is anything happening, anything important, if there's nothing happening at all? Living day to day feels stagnant and empty. There's no puzzle to be unlocked, no noise to break the monotony."


"There is change, though, Steven. Positive change is rarely, if ever, explosive or violent in its execution. Have patience... you'll heal eventually, given time."


"I hope so, Kiara, I certainly do."


Stocking vegetable cans, I look up to see Miguel. "Hey, bud. How was that restaurant last night?"


"Pretty good, man. There was some fine dining for my stomach and my eyes, if you catch my drift." He gives a sly wink and moves closer, working beside me. "Speaking of which, how'd the date with the mouse go? Did the hawk get himself a meal?"


"Miguel, is that all you think about? Machismo doesn't drive me, we had pizza, watched a movie and she went home alone."


"Ah, I know you aren't like that, bro but I've gotta get you fired up, right?" He laughs, setting a can down before turning to face me. "What are you up to tonight, anyway? Think you'd be up for a late night stroll through the park?"


"Is that a euphemism or are you up to something sneaky?"


"Neither, bro! I just figured we three could just hang out, you know? Been thinking about when we were kids, just going out and forgetting what had us worried."


"It sounds like it would be nice, Miguel. You say three, I'm guessing you want me to invite Erma?"


"Well, you know h-"


"Invite me? Where? To what?"


"Oh!" Miguel jumps half a foot, clearly started and nervous. "I had no idea you were nearby! I was just trying to get Steven to invite you to the park with us. I figured it would be better if he asked you..."


A sly smile takes over Erma's face. "Are you saying that the ladies man is having trouble going up to a girl?"


"What?! Now! I-I didn't mean it like that, Amiga! I just figur-"


"Relax, Miguel." Erma's laughter threatens to catch itself in my own throat. "I knew what you meant. I just saw a golden opportunity and took it."


Miguel chuckles, rubbing the nape of his neck, cheeks still red. "Yeah, yeah, alright, you got me there, mouse."


"Hey guys, there's a mess over on aisle six, they need you for once." Alyssa winks at Erma, her blonde hair bouncing as Miguel huffs and we both head to clean the spill. While walking away, Alyssa's voice can be heard, the gossip queen ever eager, asking Erma "So, how'd it go..."


"Alyssa, I've already told you, there's nothing here, he just needs friends. He needs support."


Aisle six is baking materials, flour, sugar, pre-mixes and apparently, someone's kid has found that flour is fun for them to throwaround. An entire bag has been emptied out onto the floor and several more are strewn about the place.


"Ah, kids, man. Go get a broom, I'll get the bags back up on the shelves." Miguel's taking the harder part of this, so I go for a broom and dustpan. "She's right, you know. You need your friends more than you'd like to think. Not in the modern, social media infused, distanced sort of way, either. That's just as good as isolation, isn't it?"


"It is, I have to get used to socializing, spending time around other people, though. How long's it been since I went into the fray alone, without you by my side? Have I ever? No, we met soon after my graduation and that was that."


"Yet, you were always the most vibrant bit of our time together. You kept everything easy and put together. You can do this, Steven."


The rest of the day rolls by with minor incident. Miguel and I get tex-mex for lunch.


"You know, my parents hate this stuff, man. I don't get it, there's no more purity in tradition than in adaptation, you know?"


"Whoa, there, Miguel, you okay? Seems like you're getting a bit serious there."


"No, man, I'm serious. I'm frustrated watching people I love and care about as they just cling onto doing things, living, in their old ways, frustrated as over and over again, the old ways fail them. The world is always changing, so why do so many people fight against changing themselves?"


"You know, you've got a good point there, Miguel. I think it's because people want comfort. You can only really get comfortable if you can make the same decisions over and over with similar results. Have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"


"Yeah, I've tried but they're stubborn and refuse to listen. I guess you're right, it just feels detrimental. Complacency, the more I consider it, seems to result in stagnation. It feels like losing. I've never felt comfortable, nor complacent, whenever I've found myself fighting for my biggest wins."


"You know, I've never really thought about it that way, Miguel. Unfortunately, it's about time that we head back to Paul's."


So, the day went on its own, slow way until 5 O'clock.


"I'll see you guys at the park!" Erma waves on her way out to her car, the day just beginning to fade along the horizon.


"Ay, bro, I'll see you at the park, yeah? Don't skip out." Miguel looks a little more nervous than usual.


"I'll make it, bud. After all, what else have I got going on?"


I head home, shower and get changed into something casual. "I wonder what Miguel's really up to?"


Kiara comes around the corner grinning. "You know what he's up to. He might talk a big game but he's scared to try getting to know Erma alone. He finds her interesting and her support for you seems to have opened him up, if only a little. It's easier for him this way. He trusts you enough to involve you."


"Well, why not? She seems good enough and I've never known him to have the best of luck in love."


"That's the spirit, Steven."


We all meet at the park as the setting sun paints a sky of pastels, green trees a welcome reprieve from the neutrality of the surrounding city's buildings. Miguel and Erma obviously tried too hard to casually make themselves look nice, having dressed up just enough to catch the eye.


"Alright, Miguel, so you've got us both here, now what's the plan?" I try my best not to laugh as Miguel's face gives it away: he hadn't made any plan beyond getting the three of us together at the park.


Erma, apparently catching on, steps in: "Why don't we start with a walk?"


The evening moves on and as it does, Erma and Miguel's steps fall into sync, the space between them closing. Eventually, I decide to give them some space and head home.


"I'll see you guys tomorrow!" They smile, wave and say good-bye. I walk toward the dimly lit parking lot before sitting at a park bench.


"There's certainly something nice about seeing your friends happy, isn't there?" Movement in the corner of my eye and Kiara's there again. Always somewhere in the background, it would seem. "I'd ask how you're feeling but, seeing as I'm a subconscious manifestation, that seems a bit redundant, doesn't it?"


"It certainly is nice. It sort of makes me hopeful for my own future." I look about, watching the dimly lit trees above gently sway, melding shapes and shadows distinct, yet surreal. "Despite my fear of doing so, I know I've got no choice in moving forward with my life. I just wish it was easier to do."


"The difficulty depends on your mindset, Steven. You always took life so easily that when you finally came up to the hurdle, you faltered. Let's face it, life's not going to wait around just so that you can try again."


"I just don't know what to do from here. I get up, I go to work and go home. I feel better, yet I'm still lost."


"You're lost because you're too focused on trying to be happy. Find something you enjoy and invest yourself in it. You made work your identity, then you made me your existence."


"Well, I like... I like movies? I don't have any hobbies... no special skills... you're right, I've been letting myself down."


"Get some sleep, Steven. You'll feel better in the morning. You usually do."


I get up from the bench and as I do, my foot bumps into something. With a loud thump, it falls with a hollow sound. I turn on my phone's flashlight to find a brown leather suitcase. two combination dials, brass. I look around, the empty parking lot and whatever unseen ghosts that live here staring back. Guess I can't go home just yet, can I? Putting the suitcase into my trunk, I wonder to myself  "What's in it?"


The drive to the police station is a short, quiet trip. A bored officer comes out to meet me at the door. "What do you want, coming up this late?"


"I found this suitcase at the park and figured I should probably bring it up to you guys."


"What? Why would we need some random suitcase? Go home, put an ad online, make a social media post, whatever. This is a police station, not a lost and found desk."


Back home, I sit on the couch and stare at the case as it sits, a small monolith on my table. "Maybe something's in it that would tell us who the owner is."


"Usually, suitcases are used to keep things private, Steven… Do you really think it’s a good idea to violate the owner’s privacy?."


"Well, what am I supposed to do? Putting it up online does nothing to guarantee that it goes home to the rightful owner..."


"Get some sleep, Steven. You're tired and not thinking clearly. In the morning light, you'll know what to do."


A yawn rises up from my throat and forces my jaw open for its escape. I head to bed and lay down without my usual ritual. Dreams come as swirls of grays and blacks, branches and rivers, my mind too confused and restless to form shapes any which way discernible.


The morning sun rises and my alarm clock rings loudly, a violent amount of noise shaking me awake. Another day. Thursday. I get ready, get dressed, eat, everything I usually do, on the way out I grab the briefcase. Maybe something can come of this.


"Good morning, Steven. I hope you're ready for another great day!" Paul's smile is just as large as ever, even as he shakes my hand. "Stocking again?"


"Actually, Paul, I think I'll work inventory, if that's alright with you?"


"Interesting, it's not often that I'm caught by surprise by my employees, Steven. I suppose that's your prerogative and I see no problem with it." Paul, for the first time since my return, looks concerned. "Just be certain to let me know if there's any sort of issue. I don't like the idea of you avoiding people."


"Ah, no, Paul, it's nothing like that, there's nothing to worry about. I just have to speak with Erma about something."


"Alright, Steven, just be sure to come to me if you need anything."


"I will, Paul. No worries, we're going to have a great day!"


I go to the back, clock in and get started on inventory. The aisles feel smaller, emptier and less inviting than before. Reality doesn't have quite the same effect as waking dreams but it's got a warm familiarity that I've so desperately needed. I wonder to myself if this is what recovery from addiction feels like.


"It's harder." Kiara drifts into the aisle, her hair flowing the way it did underwater, her eyes sad. "I had a friend, long before I met you, who fought and eventually lost to addiction. It's something that consumes you from the inside." She looks away, her head hung in sadness.


"Isn't that the same as hanging onto lost memories?"


"Not quite. Internally, yes, it can be. Chemicals consume more than just the mind, though. They make the body rot. I suppose, for what it means, that you're getting the right idea, though, Steven. Just remember that trading one thing for another isn't truly the way to cure a problem."


"I just want to feel better. It comes and goes, now, it isn't easy. IS this depression?"


"Of a sort."


"I want to dance and laugh with you, again. I want to feel your warmth again. Summer is coming, it's so warm outside, yet I feel physically cold. None of this makes sense and even though I don't want to die anymore, I'm having trouble seeing a future that I care for."


"Hey, Steven! Are you alright? You look a bit down."


"Hey, Erma. Yeah, I'm okay, I just got a little lost in my thoughts."


"Be honest with Erma, Steven. You've got friends, now, they care and lying does no one any good."


"I'm scared, Kiara. You're suggesting I open up, become vulnerable when I'm already hurting. What if she ridicules me? What if it weirds her out that I'm so stuck in the past?"


"She won't. You'll be amazed by how supportive and accepting a true friend can be."


"Actually, Erma, I'm still having trouble processing everything. I've never lost anyone before. It still hurts."


"I... I entirely understand, Steven. Have I ever told you about my brother, Kevin?"


"No. You have a brother?"


Kiara whispers in my ear. "Kevin was an old friend of mine."


"Not anymore. We got along great. He was six years older than I was. I looked up to him like he was a superhero, he taught me a lot of things, a lot of lessons, showed me many wonderful things. He also introduced me to heroin. Heroin, boi, tar, whatever you want to call it, was his best friend and eventually, he let me, of my own volition, learn why.


Have you ever felt the wind on your face while on a joyride in the middle of nowhere, so high that the worries, the thoughts, the fears, couldn't reach you?


Later, after his death, I learned why Kevin had loved heroin so much that he couldn't even run from it, no matter how hard he tried and even though i can't blame him, it hurts years later. He did his best to protect me from the things that had broken him. I still blamed myself for a long, long time."


"Oh, man... I'm so, so sorry, Erma. I don't know what to say."


"I think you're missing the point, Steven. There's nothing to say. These things happen and even though they hurt, it's the job of us survivors to make some sense of the pain and carry on. We never get over it, we carry our pain on our shoulder until eventually, it erodes away with time."


"That seems so... upsetting, almost as though our lives are meaningless, as though nothing we do lasts, let alone matters."


"That might be true, Steven. If it is, doesn't that mean we should feel free to follow our dreams? If nothing you do matters, why lead a life that makes you miserable?"


"You might have a point there, Erma."


"That's why I want so badly to get out of this one-shot town, to see the world that Kevin never got to explore. I don't know how it'll happen but I know I'll never be happy if it doesn't."


"One-shot town?"


"Oh, right. I say that, rather than one-horse town. Same thing, really, just a matter of preference. There's a bigger world out there and this town is far too small for my dreams and ideas."


"Aye, guys, got a lady up front looking for some chips. They aren't on the shelf, can you help me out?"


"Of course, Miguel." Erma's demeanor seems suddenly brighter, bouncier. "What chips, exactly?"


If they become an item, what happens to her dreams? Will she give them up just to stay here with him?


"Steven... you don't honestly expect Miguel to stay in this town forever, do you? You're not the only dreamer."


I... hadn't really considered it, to be honest.


"Nothing's forever, Steven."


"Pim's barbecue pickle chips. Says she comes and buys a bag every Thursday."


I search the name on my tablet and get one result: canceled product.


"Hey, bud, I've got bad news for you." I turn the tablet around and show Miguel.


"Ah, crap, man. I really don't want to deal with her losing her mind over some chips."


"Would it help if I went with you?" I've had my fair share of unreasonable customers in the past and found that when there's two employees, it's less likely that the person becomes abusive.


"Yeah, man, if you don't mind. Just in case, you know?"


We go out to the snack aisle and I see her: angry faced, short cut hair, arms crossed. "I don't see my chips. You get lost back there?" She looks me up and down. "Who's this?"


Paul rounds the corner. "Excuse me, is everything alright?"


"No, Paul, it's not alright! I couldn't find my chips, so I asked this boy" She gestures to Miguel with a quick jerk "to find some in the back and instead, he shows up with someone else!"


"Well, miss Kovac, after being here for six years, Miguel knows and followed through with protocol by bringing Steven, our assistant manager. You usually get Pim's barbecue pickle chips, if I'm not mistaken?"


"Yes, although clearly, I'm not getting them this time."


Paul nods in my direction and I take over. "Miss Kovac, Miguel and I checked over our inventory system and it appears that those particular chips have been discontinued. If you'd like, we can try to find you a suitable replacement."


"I suppose that would be alright, although I doubt it'll be as good as Pim's."


"Fantastic. Steven and I need to talk over a few things. I have full confidence that Miguel will be able to help you from here. Have a wonderful day, Ms. Kovac and thank you for your business." As Paul walks with me to his office, it becomes obvious that he had something on his mind.


"Is everything alright, Paul?"


"I suppose so, Steven. I've got a question for you. I need you to answer honestly. Are you happy here?"


"Of course, Paul! I just have a lot going on right now, what with losing Kiara and trying to reintegrate, you know?"


"I know, Steven. I'm just concerned about it. You've worked here for several years now, you met Kiara here and now that she's gone, I'm worried that maybe being here could be upsetting."


"Paul, even if that were the case, which it isn't, where would I go? What would I do?"


"I suppose you have a point, Steven. It's just that I'd expected you to have left town by now, come back later with a big name for yourself. I had to ask before I decided to do this... I was serious when I said you were the assistant manager. If you're going to be here for a while, I may as well make it worth your time." Paul shrugs in a matter-of-fact way as I do my best to avoid looking too surprised.


"I'm not sure what to say, Paul. Are you sure this won't cause internal problems? You don't think anyone will say you're playing favorites, do you?"


Paul chuckles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "No, Steven, I don't think anyone is going to be in the least bit surprised besides you." He checks the clock quickly. "Why don't you go catch up with Miguel and Erma for lunch?"


"Oh, of course!" I look back before making my way back to Miguel. "Thank you, Paul."


As I enter the snacks aisle, I see Ms. Kovac leaving, a smile on her face.


Miguel turns and sees me. "Man, what was all that about with Paul? I'm not fired, am I? When'd you get a promotion and not tell me?"


"Just now, apparently. That's what the talk was about. if anything, your job just got a bit more secure, Miguel."


"Well, it's about time, Steven. No joke, hombre, I'd been expecting it sooner, if I'm honest."


"Hey, guys, what's up? You got plans for lunch?"


Erma comes up, nearly running. "I was thinking about going to this tex-mex place that just opened up called 'El Salsa Verde'."


"You know, Erma, if Miguel's up for it, we can take my car. My treat, too." I give him a quick nudge.


"Uh, yeah, yeah, of course. I'm not one to pass up free food."


"Great! It's settled, then."


They both get into the backseat, my passenger seat too cluttered for use. I don't bother to clear the mess, figuring they'll enjoy the closeness.


"Hey, man, what's with the briefcase? Did you turn into a secret agent on us?" Miguel holds it up, eying the brown rectangle with suspicion.


"Oh, yeah, I was going to mention that but the news sort of made me forget, you know? I found it last night on the way home. I tried to turn it in to the police but they turned me away, said it wasn't worth their time."


"What's the news?" Erma now holds the case in her lap, her hands working at the top of it.


"Well, Paul pulled me to the side today and offered me... well, actually gave me a promotion to assistant manager."


Something audibly clicks twice.


"Oh, no surprise there. The only real surprise is that it didn't happen sooner." Erma opens the case and quietly stares at the contents.


"Hey, that's what I said! How'd you do that, Amiga?" He looks inside along with Erma. "Well, that's just weird, man."


"What? What is it? I'm with Miguel, how'd you do that, Erma? Breaking into things isn't exactly a skill most people have."


"It's a camera, bro." Miguel holds it up for me to see, then hands it back to Erma.


"My uncle's a locksmith. He taught me a few tricks that happened to stick around. Who locks a camera in a suitcase?" She holds it up, a gray camcorder, swiveling side-screen and a black nylon strap. "Bet there's something freaky on it."


"What, like a home movie or something?" Miguel takes the camcorder from Erma and examines it, pressing buttons. "Wanna check?"
He finds and tries the power button with no results. "Ah, man, it's dead."


"Hey, I've got an idea. I could charge it tonight and we could get together tomorrow night to watch it."


"Steven. Are you making plans now? So soon?"


"What else do I have to do, Kiara? You yourself have been pushing for me to work on this sort of thing."


"I know, Steven. I'm not criticizing you for it. Far from it. You should be careful, though. This is the sort of thing that can change your life." Sunlight shines through her smirk, her hair drifting about.


"Sounds like a great plan, man! I'll bring some food, seeing as you've got us this time around and it's your place." Miguel's eyes light up as he puts the camera back into the briefcase.


Erma, just as excited, closes the briefcase. "I'll bring drinks and a movie, just in case it turns out to be nothing."


"You've arrived at your destination" We pull into the parking lot of 'El Salsa Verde' as my GPS makes its announcement. The place is stylized to look almost like a Spanish villa, accented by plenty of color and flowers.


"Looks interesting enough."


We get out and walk inside to an open alcove, a hostess standing behind a podium.


"Bienvenido. Interior or al aire libre?"


"It's a beautiful day. I vote we eat outside."


Erma and I agree with Miguel and the three of us find ourselves led to a table in a small courtyard. We order, eating chips and watching as other patrons drink oversized margaritas while we wait for our food.


"So, what do you guys see yourselves doing? In the future, I mean."


I find myself thinking about earlier, Erma talking about getting out and my realization that I'd never really asked Miguel about what he wanted to do.


"Well, I figured I'd like to be an actress or a singer, though I know that's pretty cliche. Whatever I end up doing, I want it to be big and far from here, something that will let me help other people. Of course, knowing my luck, I'll just be stuck here forever."


"Nah, if my plan works out, I'll get you both out of here. It's not much but I want to start my own restaurant, putting food in the mouths of hungry people. I'll use it to fund a way to feed the homeless and the needy. I've known too much struggle of my own not to help other people."


"What about you, Steven? Isn't there some big dream for you out there?" Erma leans forward , the slight smell of lavender drifting up to me, mingling with vanilla as Miguel follows suit.


"You know, I haven't really thought much about it."


"Yes you have. You'd tell me all the time that you were going to write and direct a hit movie one day! 'we'll use the money it makes to make another and we'll live modestly, even if we get rich!'" Miguel chuckles. "Come on, man, you can't be serious. No one just goes on without any sort of aspirations. Dreams are what drive a person."


The waitress brings our drinks and leaves.


"Fine, fine. I, at one point, wanted to make a movie. I love movies and always felt I could do a decent one."


"Really? What's stopping you? With the internet, anyone can do that, man."


"Motivation, resources and time, I guess. I don't have actors or a camera, to start. No script either. Nothing, really."


"You know, I'd be honored to act in your movie, if you have a need for an actress." Erma looks at the table as she says this, the situation's reality slowly settling in for me.


"Hey, man, so long as I get a cut, I'm in. It might be the key to my own dream."


"We don't have our own camera, though, it would be wrong to use the one we just found."


"Of course but that doesn't mean that we can't buy one. Would you be willing to help, Miguel?"


"Why wouldn't I? If nothing else, it'll be fun! At least one of us can, in the end, follow our dreams."


"What if it fails? What if, in the end, the movie is so absolutely terrible that we hate it?"


"Even if that's the case, we'll have made a movie."


Our waitress brings our food, steam rising from the plates, almost glowing in the midday sun. We eat quietly, our thoughts wandering about the warming spring day. Once we finish, with smiles, we get back into the car and head back to Paul's to finish our shifts.


Unsurprisingly, Paul is waiting for us at the side entrance. "Steven, I'd like you to finish your day where you started. Tomorrow, we'll start your training as assistant manager. it wouldn't make any sense starting you halfway through a day and Fridays are days where I could use the help."


"Sounds good to me, Paul."


"Is it just me or does he seem a bit nervous? Of course, he's probably just worried. Well, you did just come back from an extended hiatus fueled by depression and dreams. It's a lot to take in."


"I think he might be tired, Kiara. Look at his eyes. None of us are getting any younger and he's been doing this alone a long time. I remember when his wife died. It didn't matter how good things may have been, she just couldn't go on anymore. I can't imagine how he felt."


"You lost me, didn't you?"


"You didn't do it to yourself. My torment didn't involve self-blame or guilt." I know she’s right. "'What if I'd kept her, held her just a little longer?'"


"I hope this isn't too much, too soon, Steven. It's just that..." Paul's smile fades just a little, the lines of age and exhaustion settling in. "I've come to realize that I should be taking better care of myself. My kids still need me." All at once, Paul's age shows itself and I realize just how hard he's really been pushing himself. "Don't do like I've done, don't use your work as an escape, Steven, accept help where it's offered."


"I'll... I'll keep that in mind, Paul. Hopefully, this will make things easier for you."


"I'm confident in my choice, Steven. Now, let's get today over with." Paul pats my shoulder before heading inside.

I stand outside for a few minutes, taking everything in. I feel a bit like this might be another dream. In a week, I've made a new friend, gone out, socialized, gotten a promotion and I feel... Better? Almost as though Kiara's death is both decades ago and only yesterday.


"You're getting there, honey. We're not done yet, though. Not by a long shot." Her voice whispers softly.


I get back to work, finishing my day out peacefully. At the end, I clock out, say my good-byes and head home. The camcorder charges using a USB cable, something that I have plenty of. I plug it in and cook a microwaveable meal before turning on the news.


"Tyler Campbell, well known filmmaker, died today of complications resulting from a heretofore unmentioned pancreatic cancer. His film, 'Fourteen Wise Men', will be in theaters next Friday."


I've always found it unsettling to watch as the newscaster delivers this sort of news with a smile on their face, a pleasant voice to accompany it, as though it's happy news. I change the channel to some sort of supernatural mystery show before eventually going to bed. My dreams are a muddy mess, diving into nightmares only to resurface into pleasant places.


With sunrise, my alarm goes off and I wake feeling well-rested and ready for the coming day.


"Rise and shine, my love. It's Friday." Kiara stands at the foot of the bed, bare-breasted as she puts on her bra, the sun streaming in lines on and through her. "Big day, today. Sure, it's a leap but you and I both know that you can and will handle it with ease."


"Didn't I give you a similar speech when you got your promotion?"


"The same, actually. Word for word." She laughs. "Come on, get up. There's a world out there waiting for you." She crawls onto the bed, sinks downward and I get up as she fades away.


Fridays at Paul's tend to be a little chaotic, deliveries and paperwork overshadowing the rest of the week's duties in preparation for Paul's absence. My new position likely means that I'll be absent certain days, handling things while Paul's away. My mind fumbles with itself as I shower. What could be on the camera? Should I screen it first?


"You agreed to watch it together. Don't go breaking your word, Steven." Rivulets of soapy water run down her back, droplets going through her as green eyes watch me over one shoulder.


"What if it's something terrible, Kiara? A video of someone dying, someone killing?" I imagine the horror on my friends' faces, the disgust and petrifying terror that they turn on me.


"I didn't know." I'd say.

"You should have checked it first." Their reply.


"Quit doing this to yourself, Steven. They're your friends and you're in this together." I cut off the water and grab a towel.


"I know. I'm just terrified of being alone again. I don't have family, you're gone. I don't exactly have a lot to lose."


"Wasn't it you who'd regularly quote 'the blood of the covenant-"


"Is thicker than the water of the womb. Yeah, I get what you mean." I get dressed, eat and head out. The sun feels warm on my face, a clear sky and gentle breeze hanging in the air. This morning feels hopeful and clean as I get into the car and drive to Paul's.


"Good morning, Steven. I'm glad you're usually here so early. I'd like you to stay by my side today. That means that you'll join me in greeting each employee on arrival. There's a number of reasons that I do this, the most obvious two reasons are to make certain that everyone arrives safely and to make sure that they understand I... excuse me, we care. Another less obvious reason is to see each person's face. The way someone looks and acts on arriving at their workplace tells you a lot about how you're doing and whether or not they enjoy working for you."


Erma and Miguel arrive at the same time and on seeing one another, smile, greet one another and walk up to Paul and I, close but not too close.


"Good morning Paul, good morning, Steven." Erma's hair bounces. She's started putting more effort into her appearance, as has Miguel, his clothes obviously much better taken care of.


"How's it on the other side, Amigo?"


"Good morning to both of you. It's Friday, so you know what that means." They both groan.


"Truck day. Heavy lifting." Miguel looks to me hopefully.


"I'll be with Paul today, bud, so I'll be there, no worries."


"I want you to assist Erma today, Miguel. No floor work." Paul's voice barely gives him away. "I'll have Alyssa and Sarah working the aisles."


The two look at one another, sharing a look of excitement and surprise. "Aren't you worried that we might distract one another?"


"Honestly, I think you might be more distracted by one another's absence." Erma stifles a small giggle and Miguel stiffens, then shrugs.


"If you say so, Paul." They head in and Paul looks at me.


"It's important to know the people who work for you but it's more important that you help foster a happy, healthy future for them. You never know who they might become or how they might help you later down the road. Those two were practically made for one another and working together will only strengthen the bond they'd built. They remind me of my wife and I when we started dating."


Alyssa's hair shines like gold, bouncing pertly as she walks up to the doors. "Finally got that big step in, Steven? It's a wonderful morning, isn't it, Paul?" She flashes a white smile, offsetting her pink lip-gloss, if only for a moment.


"It certainly is, Alyssa. I want you to assist Sarah on the floor today, as Miguel is Erma's new assistant."


"Getting serious, is it?" She giggles in a way that sounds like tinkling bells. "This should be an interesting day."


Sarah walks up, her raven hair laying gently over her shoulders, tired bags under her eyes. "Did I hear you correctly? No register duty? It's going to be a long Friday, isn't it?"


"I think that the two of you could use a change of pace."


"You might be right."


The two head inside, whispers following them alongside giggles. Paul and I greet the rest of the team before heading in, ourselves.


"Every morning, it's important to walk the aisles, ensuring that everything is clean and in order. While it's a policy that all employees assist in cleaning and organizing the store before closing time, we as humans are fallible, so it's generally good practice to do an opening once-over." As we walk, Paul adjusts items, pulling them forward, facing them outward. I catch on and follow suit, the process taking about an hour. "After zoning, we focus on paperwork: pricing, hours, scheduling and on Fridays, manifests. Most of this is done in the managerial office, although the manifests, once printed, are handled at the unloading roller. When I started, this was all done by pen and paper. I hated it and when I could afford it, I got a computer, making all of this much easier."


Paul leads me to his office and pulls a seat beside his own, in front of his computer. We spend several hours going over the process of checking hours and schedule, printing and confirming incoming manifest logs alongside pricing changes and new inventory orders. Surprisingly, I find it easier than I'd expected and eventually, the truck arrives.


"Time for the hard part, Steven." We head to the loading dock to find Erma and Miguel setting up pallets and the roller-line. Bill greases the wheels of the line lightly to ensure there's no hang-ups and we begin the process of unloading, sorting as the new inventory comes down the line. Paul and I confirm items and their amounts as we assist. Erma giggles as Miguel jokes, the two of them making their work seem effortless as they move faster than I've ever seen Miguel move. Before I know it, the work is done. "Once you've helped put up the cold and frozen items, take lunch. I'm going to walk the floor and provide assistance where it may be needed. You're doing good, Steven. I appreciate you."


"Alright, thank you Paul."


"No, thank you, Steven." Paul heads to the sales-floor and I go to help my friends put away stock. "How's it feel?"


"I wish you were here for this."


Kiara chuckles, a small sparkle in her eye. "So do I but we can't have everything we want, can we? Besides, you're doing fine. You're not alone and that's what really matters here, isn't it?"


"Hey man, how's it treating you? You think you've got this? Is Paul actually as nice a guy as he pretends?"


"Oh, stop it, Miguel. Steven's got it in the bag and you know it just as well as I do. Besides, Paul's a sweetheart." The two of them chuckle and the air feels just a little bit warmer.


"It's interesting to see just how much Paul cares about the people around him, honestly. Maybe if other business owners took a few notes from him, the rest of the world would be a great deal easier."


We work the pallet to its bones and take a quick break before heading to lunch. "So, what do you want to eat?"


"I'm feeling like having a big, greasy burger." Erma's enthusiasm comes out heavy enough to knock Miguel and I over.


"Sounds like we're going to Herman's Burgers. You ain't watched what's on the camera without us, have you, Hombre?"


"No, I'd considered it but it didn't feel right. We planned to watch it together, it's not my place to change that."


"Ah, man, it's good you're the one holding it and not me. I'd have definitely checked it out."


"Same here. Even if I'm a bit worried about what might be on it." Erma giggles nervously.


We pile into my car and eat lunch at Herman's burgers, Erma and Miguel flirting in the back seat on the way there. I feel light-hearted on the ride. The way back is very much the same, albeit with much fuller bellies, the warmth of the afternoon sun making me feel as though a nap wouldn't be too bad of an idea. When we get back, Paul is waiting for me. Erma and Miguel head back to their posts and Paul leads me to the office.


"The last half of Fridays is much easier, mostly doing paperwork. I've been thinking long and hard about how I should schedule you up. It needs to be consistent and it needs to give you time to enjoy life. I'm going to put you on the same schedule as you friends, every other weekend, starting this weekend. The weeks you don't work weekends, you'll be off Mondays and the weeks that you do work weekends, you'll be off on Wednesdays and Thursdays. It should give you plenty of time, what do you think?"


"That sounds great, Paul. What'll I do with that time, though?"


"I'm sure you'll figure that one out." He walks me through the process of scheduling, PTO, approvals, all of it. It's a good amount of information to take, but before I know it, we're done.


"Well, that's it for today, Steven. I'll see you tomorrow, for the first half, at least."


"The first half? You're that confident?"


"Weekends are easy. You come in, greet everyone and patrol the floor, assisting when and where it's needed. There's no paperwork, no truck. You'll see."


Still unsure, I shrug. "I guess it'll just be another day."


"Right. Just don't forget: Tomorrow, you'll be the last to leave. The manager is expected to cut off all the lights, lock the doors and ensure there are no stragglers. The store is your charge." We get up and leave the office. Paul stops and faces me, extending a hand. "Again, thank you, Steven."


"Thank you, Paul. I mean it." We shake hands and I head into the parking lot, an orange and pink sky reflecting like waves along the tops of the few remaining cars. A feeling of light-hearted hope lifts my feet before I head home. I get a quick shower, change into more comfortable clothes and Miguel arrives, Erma in tow. True to their word, they've brought food, snacks and a movie.


"You haven't changed the place much, have you, bro?" Miguel looks around before sitting on the couch beside Tiffany and Calvin, music drifting through the air, briefly cut out by a joke followed by Tiffany's high-pitched laughter. A clatter in the kitchen pulls my attention only for me to find Josh being helped up from the floor, Sarah's hand in his.


"Those were the days, weren't they, Steven? Loud, exciting and messy. Youth was like trying to find our own shapes and just when we did..." The sound of a block tower falling, followed by a cheer. "Now you've found a quieter place to grow. The camera and your friends are waiting outside of these dreams."


"So, did you find a way to hook it up to the TV?"


"Yeah, turns out the charging cable and a USB to HDMI cable were in one of the briefcase pockets." I take the cable, plug it into the TV, then the camera. "You guys want to eat, first?"


Miguel opens up a bag, pulling chips and a hot cheese sauce out before setting them on the table. "Nachos, man. I figured I'd go for something easy. Never met anyone who didn't like nachos."


Erma's eyes light up. "Oh, wow, Miguel. That sounds great! Finger food all the way!"


I turn on the TV, then the camera and press play. A sunrise appears on the screen.


"If you're watching this, then it means that you very likely found my briefcase right where I left it: beside my favorite park bench. Assuming you were kind enough to bring it to the police, you were turned away, as they were already informed of my intentions. I, after all, intend no harm. There's more than enough harm and pain in this world."


The scene cuts from a sunset to a man, aged, balding and tired, sitting in front of a bay window at a small, round table.


"My name, if it holds some importance to you, is Emmett McGarrot. As I record this, sitting at a small dining table, cancer counts down the few remaining days that I've left in this life. Death isn't something I fear, nor is life something I regret. What I do regret is not living enough. I hope that luck has it, you're young enough not to be of the same mind." He clears his throat, looks out the window and continues.


"It was my dream to make a movie, to write a story worth remembering. Over the course of time, I made too many excuses, put it off and now... Now, I've run out of time. It's my hope that you've found this camera and have, somewhere within you, the same dream: to make something beautiful. If so, the camera is yours. If not, pass it on to someone who fits the description and watch what happens. Watch a flower bloom."


The scene changes again, the sun setting, sinking slowly into a distant treeline.


"My time is up. By the moment this suitcase is found, I'll be gone. I've taken great lengths to make certain of this."


The video cuts off and the three of us sit in silence for a few moments.


"Is this some sort of joke, Steven? If so, it's impressive."


"It's not. I just looked him up. He died about a week ago." Erma holds up her phone and accompanying an obituary, Emmett's face sits, smiling in a much younger time. He had a family, a job... a life.


"We all have to go sometime, Steven." Kiara sits on the floor, cross-legged. "Some leave earlier, some later but eventually, we all stop for the inevitable."


"What a strange way to go. He’d left his hope of a dream in the hands of someone he'd never met."


"He left a seed of potential, rather than letting it die."


"So... I guess we need to think of something to make a movie about?"


"What kind of movie? Horror? fantasy? Science-fiction?" I look up. "A romance. Something simple, engaging and relatable. I already have my main actors. I just need to write the story."


"Are you sure?"


"Absolutely." A small wave of terror washes over my bones. Can I do this without hurting?


"Does it matter if it hurts, my love? Creating and healing tend to go hand in hand with pain. Healing and growing require pain." Kiara still sits on the floor, legs crossed. "Take your time with it and don't spoil the ending with misery."


"I'll have to write it, though. The two of you should edit what I've written, just to make certain it's what we all want."


"Well, if that's the plan I like it. I brought this movie, so... who wants to watch it?"


"I'm down if the two of you are." Miguel leans back. "I'm beat after today and this couch is too comfortable."


I nod my own head in agreement. It sounds as good of an idea as any to me. I pull out my phone and set an alarm for the morning, just in case I forget as Erma puts the movie in.


Aye, mouse, what's with you and the physical media, anyway? No one introduced you to streaming, yet?"


"Oh, right. That's something I haven't told you. I don't have internet except for what's on my phone. I feel it's too much of a distraction for me."


"Wait... so, what do you do when you're bored?" Erma looks at Miguel amused and presses play on the remote.


"Oh... right."


The movie opens with a shaky camera sequence, someone running through the woods. The person running breathes heavily, a dark horizon guiding them. The stars twinkle as an inhuman roar is heard off-screen.


"How would you start it, Steven? Is the protagonist a hero? A villain? How does he find love?" Kiara plays with her hair as she questions me, a dreamy smile crossing her face.


"Brian's a nobody. An only child, his parents are no longer around. He goes day by day, living without considering his own loneliness until one day, he dreams of someone. She tells him to meet her at a park on the other side of town."


"Interesting... so, something easily done with minimal post-processing? Smart and slightly different from what you might find today. Will it start where you found the camera?"


"That's where they'll meet. At night, as well. A bright enough moon should help with the dream's feel."


"Just... don't let too much of me bleed into it. I don't think that would be the best thing to do."


"I think you might be right there. The best thing I could do would be to let Miguel and Erma figure their characters out for themselves."


"What if it makes them fall in love?" I look at my friends as they watch the movie, Erma's head on Miguel's chest, his hand on her back.


"Would it really be so bad? Besides, I get the feeling they're already halfway there."


Eventually, the movie ends and after a short discussion about what we'd just watched, the two head out and I head to bed, nervous about the coming work day. I dream that I'm walking through the park, watching a bright moon, not quite full. A woman in a charcoal dress waits for me at the end of my path, her face fuzzy, blurred like a bad photograph, long blonde hair draping over delicate shoulder. Silently, she beckons me before leading my uneasy being to Erma, who sits at a bus stop, eyes wide and staring into a black hole.


The alarm rings loudly and I open my eyes to a steady golden light. My eyelids are heavy and anxiety weighs heavily on my chest. That dream unnerved me, leaving me feeling as though something big, something bad, is coming.


"Come on, sleepyhead. Today's the day you shine."


I don't want to shine. I want to glow, to radiate but... shining seems like too much trouble this morning. There's this noise, an almost buzzing crowd in my head distracting me from my usual schedule. I get up and practically crawl into the shower. As I shower, I think over a potential story for the movie.


Tio Melendez gets up, throws some clothes on from the pile that sits at the foot of his bed and, grabbing his truck keys on his way out, leaves his house. The yard is overgrown, surrounded by a chain-link fence. The dog across the street, a doberman, won't shut up.


"Callate Perro!" Tio shouts out, practically throwing himself into his truck in frustration. The engine roars to life and Tio tears out of the drive.


I grab breakfast, an apple this morning, and leave for work, myself. Half the day running the store by myself. Could I really be ready?


"There's only really one way to find out, isn't there?" Her smile shines. "What's with Tio? He seems so unfriendly, especially for a main character."


"All he knows is work. His family died in an accident years ago and ever since, he's sunk himself into his job, working construction."


"How's he expected to find what's-her-name that way?"


"Jane. Entirely by accident. his truck starts to overheat on his way home and he pulls into a gas station where she's the clerk. There's no instant spark, rather, there's a curiosity, mutually felt. The next day, he stops for a soda."


"That sounds like an interesting premise. Do you think Erma and Miguel will like it?"


"I'm not sure. There's only one way to find out, I suppose." I pull into the parking lot, get out and join Paul at the front doors.


"Good morning, Steven. Did you sleep well?"


"I suppose so, despite a very strange dream. It felt almost foreboding."


"Never ignore a gut feeling, Steven, especially when it comes to dreams. I'm glad that you slept well, all things considered." Paul looks to the parking lot, a massive wall of gray clouds overshadowing it. "Looks like it might rain today. Rainy days always seem to go one of two ways..."


"Too slow or far too busy?"


"Right. Let's hope for the best."


"And prepare for the worst." Paul's laughter rumbles. "You've certainly got the idea, Steven." We stand and greet everyone as they arrive before heading in to rearrange the store. "Steven, I want to make sure that you know not to be afraid to call me if something goes wrong. Saturdays can be a bit messy at times. I want you to feel comfortable."


"Thank you, Paul. Hopefully, it won't come to that."


"My sentiments, exactly. Now, I have a few things to clear up, if you wouldn't mind, could you assist at the registers for a little while?"


"Sounds good to me, Paul."


We part ways and I head toward the registers up front, long shadows languidly shortening with the rising sun.


"Is everything alright up here, ladies?" Sarah and Alyssa look up, perking up ever so slightly at the obviously unexpected company.


"The new boss coming up here to help?" Alyssa giggles at her own joke as Sarah rolls her eyes.


"I could use a restock on my impulse stock, if you don't mind." I look over Sarah's inventory, noting what she needs more of and quietly agree with her.


"Give me a few minutes and I'll be back with fresh stock." Sarah's face lightens up just a little.


"Thank you, Steven."


"Of course." I quickly head to the back and grab what she needs for restock.


"Hey, amigo! Have you come up with any ideas for the movie yet?"


"Yeah, I might have one or two but..." I point at the small basket I've loaded Sarah's stock into. "I've got to take care of this, first."


"Oh, yeah, of course, man! I've gotta run back to Erma, myself!" Miguel gives a small shrug. "I guess we're starting to get steady, yeah?"


"That's great, bud. I'm happy for both of you." Miguel heads back to inventory and I bring my stock back up front.


"I just don't see how he's handling it so well. I mean, really, they were practically made for one another."


"You didn't know her like we did, Alyssa... Kiara would be pissed if we gave up just because we'd lost her. Especially if he gave up. She'd tell me each and every chance she got that Steven was going places, that he'd be big."


"Oh, hey, Steven! You're back already, huh?" Alyssa flashes a quick smile, glancing over to Sarah. "Did you miss us?"


I chuckle quietly, noting Sarah's small smile. "I suppose I did, just a little. How's today going for you two?"


"Well, it did just start." The front doors slide open, a splatter of rain following clodding footsteps can be heard as a family of three walk in. "Now, it would seem, the day speeds up." I finish re-stocking Sarah's impulse shelves and look over Alyssa's. "What do you two plan on doing for lunch?"


"Probably barbe-cue. Why, planning to join?"


"Maybe. Would that be okay with you?" Alyssa laughs. "It's up to Sarah. I can't make all the decisions."


"I don't see why not. Bring Miguel and Erma while you're at it, it could be fun."


"Sounds like a plan to me." The family walks up, a bit sooner than expected, pushing their basket with a few items in it. I go to the end of Sarah's aisle, ready to bag.


"Mom, mom, I want candy!"


The little boy, maybe 6, points to the shelves I'd just finished stocking, pointing at nothing in particular while tugging on his mom's arm. She yanks her hand away and starts putting items from the cart onto the belt.


"How many times do I have to tell you? We can't spend money on things like that, we have a tight budget."


"Mommy, what's a ‘budget’?" The dad, clearly holding back his own frustration, intervenes.


"A budget tells you how much money you can spend."


"Oh." The boy looks down quietly.


Boop.


Boop.


Sarah starts scanning items and as they come my way, I bag them up quickly. The boy watches dejectly, hanging loosely onto the basket. Once everything is bagged up, the father pays with his card. As the family starts toward the exit, Sarah steps away from the register and stops them. She pulls a lollipop from her apron pocket and holds it out.


"It's on the house."


The little boy smiles, runs over and takes it.


"Thank you!"


His mother smiles and thanks Sarah before they leave, heading back into the downpour.


"That was... unexpected."


Alyssa chuckles. "It's not unusual. believe it or not, beneath all that sour acting exterior is an absolute sweetheart."


Sarah grimaces. "I just like kids, that's all."


"Well, whatever the reason, you probably made that kid's day."


I check the time, then look outside. "I'm going to walk the aisles and make sure everything's in order."


"Whatever you say, boss." more giggling from the two girls.


I make a round, finding that almost everything is still where it should be. Sarah and Kiara had been best friends. When Kiara wasn't with me, she could be found with Sarah. I hadn't thought, through my own depression, to consider how Sarah might be taking Kiara's death. I can feel a weight steadily settle on my shoulders. I should check on her.


"Steven! Before I go, I wanted to cover lunch-time. I realized only a few minutes ago that I haven't covered how I usually handle it. There's a sign in my office that I hang on the front door once I'm certain the store is clear, just before locking up." Paul shrugs. "I know it's a move that many customers find 'inconvenient' but it just makes sense to me."


"Thank you, Paul. I don't know why but I'd never really considered how lunch worked. I should have, considering everyone goes at the same time..."


"Why would you?" He chuckles loudly before suddenly dropping back into a serious tone, his face showing signs of being very, very tired. "Do you have it from here? I think I may need to head home, there's a fattoush calling my name."


"So far, so good, Paul. Go home and get yourself some rest." Paul smiles, resting a hand on my shoulder. "I'm glad you're back, Steven. These old bones are starting to complain." He heads outside, the rain still coming down heavily. "See you later, ladies. Don't give Steven too much grief, alright?"


The girls laugh cheerfully. "I can't promise much but I'll try to keep Sarah from breaking him."


Paul chuckles and continues to his car, the torrential downpour making him appear almost a shadow as he gives a quick glance back toward the quiet store. Sarah and Alyssa sit in front of their registers, busying themselves with their phones as I head to the back, finally ready to give Miguel and Erma my ideas.


"Can I suggest a bit of a change, guey?"


"Of course."


"First of all, Tio’s not really a hispanic name. It means ‘uncle’. We can call him ‘Teo’, short for ‘Matteo’, if you really feel stuck on it, though. He's got to have somebody, Steven. A man doesn't work like that without someone. I say he's taking care of his abuela, that's what keeps him going, even though they both know she's on her last leg, yeah? An angry man's less likely to see beauty in the world, even when it's staring him down. A man in pain, even less so. Jane's kindness sticks out to him, though."


"I feel Miguel's right, Steven. I think Jane needs to come from a rough life, inner city tragedy. Something to offset Tio's more rural character, yet compliment his own experiences." She pauses for a moment, lost in thought. "I'll try to make a character profile tonight. Miguel, you should do the same."


"Honestly, if you guys do that, it'll likely make my job considerably easier."


"It should make it easier to play our parts, too." A small weight lifts off my shoulder hearing him say that. "You don't have to do everything on your own, Steven."


"You're still here?"


Kiara gives me a sad smile. "Of course. I'm part of you." She touches my chest. "I'm still here."


"Steven, we've got a problem up front." Alyssa comes out from a nearby aisle. "It's Miss Kovac. She's ranting and yelling at Sarah about some chips that we don't have."


"Right. Pim's potato chips. Alright, I'm on my way." With an apologetic shrug to Miguel and Erma, I follow Alyssa up front to handle Miss Kovac's situation. Lunchtime comes soon after, eventually calming Miss Kovac, gently reminding her that the chips have been discontinued.


"Oh, right... I'm sorry... I don't know why I forgot about that."


We make sure that the store is empty before closing, locking up and hanging the sign up at the entrance.


"Want to ride together?" Sarah gestures to her SUV. "I have plenty of space and it seems as though it'd be easier." Alyssa grins mischievously. "Only if Steven sits by you."


"Oh, you want to join us, eh?" Miguel laughs as Erma gives him a sour look. "No worries, I dont' think I'm either of your type."


I notice Sarah watching me, waiting for a response on my end. "I don't mind riding up front. Especially if it means I'm not in the middle of all that action."


"Great! It's settled, then. Let's go!" As we pile into Sarah's vehicle, I notice the light smell of vanilla mingling with burnt tobacco. Besides a few cigarette butts sticking out of an empty soda can, the inside is clean.


"Have any of you ever had 'Big John's meats'?" Despite the storm outside, there's a twinkle in her eye as she asks.


"I'm... I'm not sure I know 'Big John' but I'm pretty sure he's not my type, amiga."


Erma giggles, kissing his cheek and Alyssa rolls her eyes.


"Is there something special about it?"


"Not really, besides that being where we're going."


The road rolls by, pedestrians scattered here and there, running as though they think they might outrun the rain. Looking at Sarah, I realize that I find her pleasant to look at, her soft face seeming to glow, her hair more an accent than a full feature. A darkness washes over me.


"Hey, do you guys think there might be something wrong with Miss Kovac?"


"You're talking about her memory, right? It does seem strange that she completely forgot the chips had been discontinued."


"Yeah, think there's something we could do to help her?"


"Maybe, I think my sister goes to church with her son. Maybe she could say something."


"You've got a sister, Miguel?"


"Yeah but trust me, she's not your type."


"Well, she does go to church..."


We laugh and go back to watching the deluge outside, lulled by the warmth inside.


"Here we are!" Sarah's announcement breaks my trance and I look up to see we're in front of a small restaurant, the inside glowing warmly, despite its dim lighting. The smell of barbecued pork permeates the air, smoke billowing out into the wind from a metal pipe stack and my stomach growls.


"Oh, man. this place smells like heaven!" Erma grabs Miguel's hand and practically drags him through the front doors as Alyssa, running to keep up, follows after a quick "See you inside!"


Sarah and I exchange a brief look and walk to the front door.


"You know, I've always loved the rain. Sure, it's cold and soaks everything but... It has a tendency to feel like it's washing away at least a little bit of the dirt, you know?"


"I get it. There's been a lot of pain lately. I've only recently figured out how to tread the surface." She looks at me, mascara trickling in spiderwebs down her cheeks.


"You're not alone, you know... She was my best friend. I might have Alyssa still but... Kiara understood where I came from."


"If I've learned anything from the past week, it's that I'm not alone. Neither are you, Sarah."


She gives a weak smile, says thanks, wraps an arm around mine and I open the door to a warm, dry haven, a small din of noise coming from the crowd of other refugees. Erma, Miguel and Alyssa sit at the booth smiling as they wave us in, the scene, holding a dream-like feeling. "Wouldn't this be an ideal way to end a romantic movie? The lovers walking in from the rain to join their friends?"


"I don't feel that's particularly appropriate, Kiara."


"Hey now, I'm just helping with the movie." She winks twice, too fast for it to appear natural. "Sarah needs a friend. Just don't mistake caring for her to be a romantic draw. That's when you start thinking that you might be able to fix someone."


"I know better than to think I can fix a broken heart."


"Are you sure?" She puts a hand to my chest. "You've been trying awful hard lately to fix your own..."


"But..."


"Just let go, Steven. Learn to accept things as they come."


"What about you, hon? What can I get ya to drink?" The waitress is blonde, frizzy-haired, chomping gum with three top buttons clearly missing.


"Water sounds fine to me.


"Alright, well, I'll be right back with your drinks and take your orders."


I look the menu over... pulled pork, barbecued chicken, the menu is pretty standard, so I decide I should go with my usual choice at this kind of place, the loaded potato. The booth feels unusually cramped, Sarah sits close enough to make me feel slightly uncomfortable, a small nervousness overtaking me.


"I think I'll get a pulled pork sandwich, what about you, Mouse?


"Barbecued chicken sandwich for me." Alyssa's gaze falls on Sarah pointedly. "What about you?" she gets a frustrated look back. "A caesar salad. I'm not really all that hungry, though.


Allright, y'all! I'll be right back with some butter biscuits for you while you wait.


So, about our characters...specifically Tio..." Miguel's fingers fidget about. "He's angry because he resents his life and resents that he feels that way." His eyes trail off as he continues, his normally cheery disposition becoming overcast. "I had a friend growing up, Tom, who was in a similar situation though high school, except with his dad. I remember him breaking down to me one day and the thing that really stuck with me the most is that he hated his resentment for his situation. I think that's important to convey." Erma's hand finds its way to Miguel's. "No one can be entirely selfless.


I know. It just hurt to see my friend so upset with himself over wanting his own life. His dad died pretty soon after his graduation and Tom left town.


I think that would work, Miguel. It seems to bring focus to an important topic. Erma, when Jane learns about Tio's situation, how does she feel? How does Jane react?


She feels... sad, sympathetic. She lost her mother to cancer years ago and never knew her father.


You guys are working on a movie?" Alyssa leans in, her curiosity uncontained, excitement making her eyes shimmer. "I could help, you know... My dad's a realtor.


I could help with costumes, well... outfits? I can help make clothes and do make-up." Sarah, though nervous, looks excited to be part of something. "We could use all the help we can get but before you go into this, you need to know that we don't have a budget. It's not something that pays... unless, somehow, it generates money.


I didn't figure it did.


I don't have anything else going on." Sarah's foot brushes mine as she says this, looking in my eyes. "She's lonely.


I see that. Your death didn't just affect me...


Of course, not. We're all connected in some way or another, love. Are you afraid?


To move on? A little.


Well, don't think about it." Our food arrives and besides a number of well-deserved compliments, we eat in silence. The bill is split and we head back to the vehicle, futilely struggling to avoid the downpour. "Back to the grind, I suppose." The parking lot is still empty when we arrive, the rain a torrential downpour. We go in and open the store. I put the sign back in Paul's office and look over the schedule. Two more days. What will I do when that's done, though? "Isn't that a silly question?


I suppose it is... I'm just afraid. I don't want to fall back into the confines of depression yet again.


Sink into your project, then. Let it drive you. Art has always been an effective escape.


Isn't escapism running away? The coward's way of ignoring, potentially worsening a problem?


Not if it's done productively. Creating in any fashion can be meditative and help you clear your head. So write, Steven.


What if I can't?


What if you never try?"


"Steven! If you're not too busy, we could use your help up front. Both registers are backed up.


I'll be right there." With a quick look back, I head up front. The store is packed to an unusual degree with both registers overrun at least four customers deep. Moving quickly, I get on the third, backup register, login and call out. "this register's open, I'll take the next person in line!" An older woman comes up and her husband, getting ahead of her, begins unloading their groceries. boop Flour boop sugar... A few minutes later and the customers are all happily emptying carts into the trunks of their vehicles. "Thank you, Steven. Seems like Paul made the right decision when he chose to promote you." Alyssa gives a heartfelt smile. "Looks like it's almost time to start cleaning up for the day." I check the time and, of course, find that she's right. Closing time is in an hour. "I'll hold my register while you and Sarah clean." She gives a quick wink, eliciting an annoyed look from her friend. Sarah and I get cleaning supplies before heading down each aisle, mopping and organizing the shelves. Thunder rumbles in the distance, a threatening reminder of ominous weather, the potential of further depression to come down heavier than the rain. Sarah's eyes meet mine. "Any plans tonight?"


"Not really, although... Maybe I should write? I'm just not particularly feeling it.


Well, why force yourself? Do you still have that entertainment system?


Of course. I don't see myself getting rid of that any time soon.


Feel like having some company? There's a movie that Alyssa and I have been talking about watching.


Hey, did someone say movie night?" Erma elbows Miguel quickly, giving a brief shake of her head. "Well... I shouldn't invite myself, I suppose." 'Honestly, it sounds fun. You wouldn't mind, would you, Sarah?" She seems taken by surprise at my answer. "Of course, not. Alyssa can bring Josh and we'll make it a party.


Are you bringing someone, Sarah?" Erma asks timidly, her face saying that she already knows the answer. "No, I don't exactly have anyone else to bring..." she looks down, shifting, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "That's alright! I just needed to know how much food we're going to need.


Oh! Should I bring anything?


Nah, comadre, just bring yourself and a movie, yeah? I think you might need a break.


Ok..." Sarah looks in my direction. "I guess we'll see you later?


I hope so.


Are you sure about this, Steven? I have no problem with it. After all, I'm gone but you... you'd better not go feeling guilty.


No worries, Kiara. She just needs company with her friends.


It'll grow to be something more.


Could I stop it?


Only if you want to." I watch as Sarah gets into her car and leaves before locking up and heading home, myself. As I walk inside, I start feeling... nervous? I get a shower and change into something more comfortable. Why am I nervous? It's my friends... "You and I both know why..." The door sounds a quick rapping. I open it to find Miguel and Erma, who giggles and lets go of his hand to wave over-enthusiastically. "We brought food! Miguel convinced me to make something and I may have gone just a little overboard. I'll be right back!


A little overboard may be an exaggeration. Are you alright, Steven?" He looks over his shoulder to make sure that Erma's out of earshot. "This isn't too much for you, is it?" A red sedan pulls up, followed by Alyssa's silver SUV and Erma waves happily to its passengers. "If it gets to be too much, say the word. No one's going to blame you for not being able to handle it. If they do, well, fuck 'em, you know?


No, it's nothing like that, Miguel. I'm just in my own head, that's all.


Hey, would you mind holding the door?


No problem, Erma." Josh appears behind her, holding the door as Erma teeters in, carrying a stack of dishes taller than her, far more food than I'd been expecting. Miguel and I quickly relieve her of what we can. "Hopefully I brought enough." Emra quietly giggles as she makes her way to the kitchen. "I certainly hope so, I'm starving!" Alyssa throws herself down on the loveseat dramatically and looks around. "You didn't really change anything, did you?


No, it certainly doesn't look like it." Sarah walks in, looking around, sets her purse and coat down, then looks at me. "You really should redecorate...


I don't think Steven's ever really cared for decorating, amiga. He just lets everyone else do it. What movie did you guys bring, anyway?


'The Timid Planet'," Josh rolls his eyes "It's a romantic Sci-Fi. Plenty of action as well as romantic bits. It's supposed to be really artsy, cinematic, too." Josh sits down beside Alyssa. "A movie night in good company is all I care about right now." He rests his hand on her thigh just before she rolls her eyes. "He tried to get out of it so he could play games online."


"How'd you change his mind?" Erma carries in two plates of food, setting them down in front of the couple. "I might end up needing a few new tricks." Alyssa gives her a sly smile. "He's not exactly a fan of sleeping alone. In some ways, men are just like little boys." Miguel plops down after setting two plates down in front of the second loveseat, my usual spot. "tough break, bro. What game was it?


Armed Duty 8." Josh sulks for show. "Just got it, too." Erma finally sits down, setting a plate in front of Miguel, then another in front of herself. "I'm impressed at how clean the bathroom is, Steven." Sarah comes out from the hallway, sits beside my normal spot and starts eating. "Guys aren't usually too keen on keeping things clean.


Sit down, bro. Eat it before it gets cold. Erma really knows how to make a good chow." Taking his advice, I sit and eat. "How was work today, Josh?


Same old, same old. More people who didn't know how to take care of a car." he looks around the room. "What about you guys? Anything interesting?


No, not really. The rain kept most of the crazies away." Alyssa chuckles at Sarah's comment. "Yeah, but at least the new manager's good to look at." Sarah's face turns beet red as confusion takes over Josh's. "New manager?


Alyssa's being silly, Josh. Paul finally promoted Steven." Erma gives Alyssa an icy look, sobering her quickly. "None too soon, huh?" Josh grins. You might have better luck than Paul seems to in keeping those two handled." He nods with a smile to Miguel and Erma. I laugh. "I doubt that. Those two do what they want and I'd be a fool to fight that.


Ah, he's smart, too!" Sarah giggles quietly at Alyssa's comment. "So, where's the movie?" Sarah grabs her purse and digs in it. "It's right here." She hands me the DVD before sitting back down, a little closer than she was before. Miguel gets the lights as I put the movie in. Credits open to show a blanket of stars behind a massive green and teal colored planet, clouds swirling over its surface, the actors, director, producer and other names overlaid in an off-white font. The scene cuts to a dim room where two figures cloaked, hoods casting shadows over their faces, speak. "You know where she is?" Sarah shifts a little, getting ever so slightly closer to me, her hand resting gently against my thigh, an open invitation. "No one can hide from the order forever. We are inevitable.


Remember that she has information that we need. She knows all there is to know about the insurgency and as such, it's preferred that she's brought in alive. I'd prefer that we don't have to resort to anthropomancy. You remember the last one." My hand finds itself entangled with Sarah's before her head lays against my shoulder. Her hair smells like lavender and I feel my body relax. "Steven, wake up. We're about to go, the movie's over. Seems like you two slept right through it." Blurry vision makes it briefly difficult to re-orientate myself. Alyssa stands by the door, Josh watches from just outside. "We'll see you tomorrow. Miguel and Erma have already left and Sarah's in the bathroom. I had fun, though I don't think I can say the same for Josh. He seems to have plenty of criticism for the movie.


It was just... far too unbelievable and yet, somehow, cliche. Entirely predictable." Alyssa giggles. "Come on, Mr. Serious, let's go home. You can tell me all about it while I make it up to you." She looks back at me. "You'd better be good to her." The door shuts and I check the time. 9 p.m. I should already be in bed. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who fell asleep." Sarah grins, walking into the room "It was a nice change, not sleeping alone. I suppose I should go home now...


Go on, she's waiting for an invitation.


"She was your friend, though. It feels like a betrayal."


"How could it be? She's still here, I'm not. Haven't you grieved long enough? Do you think I'd want you to be alone and miserable? Don't you deserve comfort?"


"Do you want to go home? My bed is big enough to share." She smiles and we eventually lay down, stripped of most of our clothes as we embrace the warmth of one another, hands gently tracing skin that feels soft to the touch. Lips touch and our nature takes over.


Tio's old pickup truck rumbles as he pulls into an old gas station, its age and several years of neglect evident by the dirt and dust coating windows. The hot sun beats down, reflecting off of everything, causing Tio to squint. He pulls up to the gas pump closest to the front door, runs his card and begins filling the truck's tank. He smacks his lips, noting how sticky they are from dehydration, boots coated in drying mud from the construction site. They clop as he makes his way inside, a small bell chiming to announce his presence. Jane watches the man as he walks in, his boots and jeans dirty from a full day's hard work, a scowl holding his face, something she'd noted as being common with people who worked outside around here. He walks to the drink coolers and after a brief look, picks up a bottle of water.


"How's the day going for you, sir?" She scans his water and some chips he'd picked up on his way to the counter.


"Been better. Pack of smokes, too, miss.


"Regulars?"


Yep. If it's going to kill me, I might as well do it right."


She scans the cigarettes and takes a look at his license.


The camera cuts to show it: Teo Guerra, 24.


Teo lays down cash, exact change. His boots stir up the dry dirt outside as he walks, his mind on what's waiting for him back home. He gets into his truck, starts the engine and takes off, only to make it a few feet before being stopped by a loud popping, then grinding noise.


"Meirde..."


The truck stops, Teo puts it into park and gets out to find, as expected, the pump's hose dragging the asphalt, its handle still in his gas tank. He pulls it out, caps hsi tank and brings it in, setting it on the counter. It clatters, dribbling a little bit of fuel.


"What do I owe you?


I'm... not sure. This is a first for me."



Sarah squeezes my hand in the dim theater as she leans into my ear. "They really got the roles downpat, didn't they?


"That they did. I feel a big contributor was their input. I might have been able to write the story but they made the characters in their own right."


Sarah kisses my cheek in response.



"I spoke with the manager, he told me to take down your information and we'll find a way to settle this. Apparently, this isn't his first experience with this." She sighs and slides him a paper. "He said we need your name, address, phone number and driver's license number."


With a sigh of his own, Teo takes the pen she's holding out and writes the information down. "Not really the way I usually give my number to a pretty girl." He laughs half-heartedly.


"Oh, really?" A small giggle "Do you usually give all of this with it?


Well, no. Plus, I usually get dinner plans first." Their eyes lock with a certain intensity as he says this, a smile creeping into both of their faces.


"Where exactly do you have in mind? I'm off in an hour."


When the movie ends and the lights come back on, I feel nervous, shaky with anticipation. Did we do alright? The first title card had acknowledged Emmett McGarrot and what he'd done, something we'd all agreed was a necessity. After a gently rumbling murmur, the room erupts into applause. Miguel and Erma come running over to Sarah and I.


"We did it! We really made a good movie!" Erma jumps up and down excitedly. "Bro, I can't believe that we actually made that!


Quiet, quiet down now, everyone. I know we're all excited after seeing such a wonderful film, even more excited knowing that it was shot in our backyard but it's time to introduce the people behind it!"


Ralphio Julian, the city's mayor, waves us up onto the stage, a glimmering smile bright and wide. We get up onto the stage and, standing there, it hits me just how big the turnout was. Every seat is filled. Erma seems to have noticed as well, sweat pouring down her face.


"Are you alright, Mouse?


Yeah, just a little nervo-" She collapses, Miguel and my hands tangling as we try in vain to catch her, screams and yells from the onlooking crowd, an ugly, loud echoing wave crashing in as time slows.


"Call 911!" phones light up around us as Miguel hovers over Erma, performing CPR after checking for a pulse.


I can't do anything, only watch in horror as the scene plays out, my friend dying.


"We've all got to go sometime, Steven."


Why now? Why is it always at the worst possible time? She'd just caught up with her dream!


"Is it ever the right time?"


I find myself unwilling, unable to answer. EMS rushes in, clearing everyone away, they put Erma on a gurney and quickly wheel her away. Miguel, Sarah and I rush to his vehicle and follow the ambulance, everything a blurry haze. We check in and wait, Miguel pacing up and down like a father waiting for the birth of his first born, my own grip on reality slipping as Sarah tries her hardest to be there for us both.


"Visitors for 'Erma Vandermerton'?"


A nurse in dark-blue scrubs calls out, standing in front of a set of wood doors. Miguel stands and I follow suit.


"The doctor says you saved my life." Her hand brushes Miguel's cheek, her hospital gown reflecting palely beneath the fluorescent lights, giving her a pallid, deathly appearance. "I guess it's not my time, after all.


"What happened? You just... collapsed and your heart stopped."


"Apparently, I had an uncommon anxiety induced heart attack. The doctor said that it can happen but usually only feels like it."


"I'm glad I still have you here, Mouse."


"Same here, Erma. I don't know if I could have handled losing you like that."


"You'd have had to, Steven, you know that. there's no such thing as 'the right time', is there?"


"No, I suppose there isn't."


Erma went on to get past her anxiety with the help of therapy, medication and her eventual husband, Miguel. I've seen a few of her movies and they both visit every chance they get. Sarah enjoys the visits, too, especially on the holidays, when Miguel brings full course meals cooked in his kitchen.


Paul eventually retired and spends his time with his grandchildren, comfortable knowing I'm handling the store, his legacy, with ease.


I figured one movie was enough. I'd found myself comfortable with a simpler life.


After all, I'd seen the price of dreams and watched as others paid the cost.


Copyright: Christopher Wood, 2024-2025 | contact