by J M Thomas
So, who wants it to succeed? Why?
I was so distracted, I nearly walked out of there without grabbing Fluffy to bring back to Aeron’s place with me. I had to turn on my heels and march my way back up four flights of stairs to my office. Carefully, I grabbed the cactus by the base of its painted terracotta pot.
I wrapped the pot in an extra sweater and set it in my passenger seat when I got back out to the car. I checked my bank account, grimacing at how little there was left to live on for the next two weeks. If I wasn’t going to be using my campsite, it hurt to have the money to pay for it coming out of my meagre earnings.
After this, I’ll have a real paycheck. This is the last two weeks I’ll spend flat broke. I’m almost free and clear. It’s so close I can almost taste it. My gaze found the ceiling.
Bad metaphor. My stomach complained that it was dinnertime. I had a decision to make, and it felt like two sides of me were still warring over where to go next. To Aeron’s for more answers and one more night to make things right… or to get some distance before I get more involved?
No, I’m going to leave him better off than when I first shook his hand, too. At least, I’ll try my best with one more day. After that, it’s water under the bridge. I promised myself to make good use of the time preparing some extra food to make it over this last hump in my journey to real stability. We’d finish the conversation we started earlier, then part ways on as good of terms as I could manage. I owed that, not to him, but to myself.
Besides, a stop at the grocery store on the way to Aeron’s would give him a little more time to calm down before I showed up. I picked up some dried goods, planning to make that tide me over for a while. The first month I’d lived at the campsite, I’d learned how little I could spend and still survive. This was hopefully the last grocery run I’d have to make counting pennies.
Since taking this assignment, I’d spent a lot of time getting to know my customer base on a first-name basis. It was a necessary part of getting my mind primed to create something that would connect with the consumer, but I was quickly getting in far over my head.
Maybe Aeron was right. Maybe at the first glance down the rabbit hole of being closely-involved in this gaggle of necromancers, I’d decide I wasn’t cut out for the level of intensity. I’d already been sort of shot at, pinned to the ground, followed, and begged for blood.
But, on the other hand, in a matter of a couple days, I’d had more excitement than I’d had in months combined. I found myself deeply intrigued—almost enough to override my common sense saying I needed to get out of dodge before I got even more entangled.
With Aeron, I could see myself becoming deeply entangled. Despite his startling outburst earlier, I was one good explanation away from being ready to go with him anywhere all over again. Whether that was a good thing, or even an okay thing… I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to that question just yet.
I had to get some distance to figure out if, like he’d said, I just had no good sense of what was danger warning and what was just a person being human. I wasn’t sure if I knew the best way to figure that out, but staying at Aeron’s long-term couldn’t possibly be the solution.
Could I even do the busywork to run a server if I keep this pace up? Could I maintain immersion and all the valuable things I was learning without paying the price of getting my heart even more involved with all these people?
I had a couple bags in one hand and a cactus in the other when I knocked on Aeron’s apartment door. There didn’t appear to be anyone home, so I set my stuff on the landing and squatted on the narrow walkway, wondering what to do next. I didn’t have to wait long, as a loping gait brought a familiar form closer to me.
“Hey, he had some meetings come up. Said for me to let you in.” Don curled his lip a little in distaste. “This isn’t good form at all. I’ll have him get you a key.”
“No need,” I said with a soft smile, scooping my things up while he surveyed the door. “I’m only staying here tonight, then I’m going to look for somewhere else to crash. I’m bothering you guys’ guild work that clearly means a lot to you. I think it’ll be best for me to give you guys the space you need for that.”
Don slid a credit card between the doorknob and the jamb. When it stopped, he wiggled it until he had the corner where he wanted it. A firm shove, and the door swung open. “If that’s the way you feel about it…”
“It is.” I smiled in his direction again, this time finding myself pushing it a bit to get it to stick. I got the feeling he didn’t care how I felt about it—that he’d be keeping an eye on me regardless. “I’m going to wash up my clothes, make some food, tidy up real nice as a thank you for letting me crash here…” Don’t close over, throat. You can do this. “...and be out in the morning.” It came out as a squeak, but I got it out.
He gave a terse nod, gaze flitting around every which way. “Look, if this has anything to do with what happened earlier…”
“No, Don. You guys have been wonderful.” I swallowed hard. “I just realized I have a few things to work out on my own.”
Don nodded like he understood. “Take care of yourself, then. If you need anything…”
I laughed, stepping through the door with him on the outside. “If I need your services, I’ll be sure to send folks who need killin’ your way.”
Don didn’t seem to take it as lightheartedly as I’d meant it, but he didn’t push back either. With a jerky wave of his hand, he headed off. I looked out the window to see where he’d gone, but lost sight of him as soon as he disappeared into the parking lot of the motel across the street.
There was something disconcerting about knowing I was being watched over, even though I had no doubt Don only meant to do his job well. From the past few days’ encroaching darkness, I could see why breaking into the magical undercurrent of the world might’ve been a bad idea. I’m sure somebody’d tried to tell me so, and I’d given him sass for it without truly understanding.
I still had no idea whose bad idea it was that’d put me in this situation in the first place. But I’d gone along with it, fearing to disappoint some nebulous “they” who decided things at HarmonE.
Whoever “they” were, I had to put a cost prospectus together tonight for them, one that took into account projected income from future subscribers to my server. Happy couples, satisfied customers… a wave of doubt washed over me. Why would any necromancer want to pay my company money to find like minds and affection?
Shaking off the added weight, I busied myself doing everything but my looming paperwork. Aeron had only tiny pots and pans, so I got the rice soaking in one while I heated the beans to speed up the rehydration process. I washed the few dishes piled in the narrow sink, then dried and put them away.
At home, I’d never been the one who could take a rag and some baking soda and make the whole world glisten, but I desperately wanted to leave Aeron’s life better off than when I hopped into it. I didn’t have much thanks to give, but this I could do.
It was perfect thinking work—getting water spots off the sink for no discernible reason. Such good work, I procrastinated for a whole hour sweeping, mopping, wiping man scent off the bathroom fixtures, and running my laundry. I even washed the futon cover, since I had room in my load. Then I wiped down the washer and dryer, too, for good measure.
Now I had to figure out where I was going to lay low after tonight. I didn’t even want to go outside to shake the rug, because the thought of Don’s sniper scope listening in on my thoughts sent shivers down my spine.
The last item on my list of things to do was getting the little windowsill cleared off for Fluffy to inhabit. As I moved things to dust, the oddest ornament caught my eye: an empty Scotch bottle with an unused cigar stuffed down the neck of it. Aeron didn’t exactly have the distinctive tar smell of a smoker, so I wondered if it meant something else to him.
His particular leatheriness seemed more like time spent in the sun, with a possible side o
f years drinking a little more than might strictly be considered healthy. I wiped the bottle down, clearing away the dust before setting it back in place. I’d have to ask him later what the story was behind it.
I’d gotten the beans on to cook, and the rice started in the pot, and was just measuring out my seasonings when a key scraping the tumblers in the lock startled me to attention.
“Oi, Lessie!” Aeron called to me with a wave as the setting sun streamed in through the open door. He backed from the door toward the bathroom as he closed it, a sheepish look on his face.
“Hey, I was just getting dinner going.” I waved at him with the spatula I was using in lieu of a decent spoon.
“Mhmm, jolly.”
What was that all about? I wondered as he darted into the bathroom. A stream of cursing at a colorful array of volumes emanated from behind the closed door. Apparently, his time to calm down hadn’t exactly gone the way I’d hoped.
While I waited for Aeron to stop swearing, probably at his reflection in the now-clean bathroom mirror like a betta fish, I got some low-fi hip hop music going on my laptop. I popped in my earbuds and started navigating the nightmare that was the company’s data files on our dedicated server. Somewhere in this mess was cost prospectus documents from other projects that I could riff on and tweak. Somewhere…
The bathroom door creaked open. “Don’t look!” called Aeron as he darted behind me.
“Look at what?” My head craned around before I registered the words, then I cranked it right back around to stare at my screen. The glimpse I caught in the meantime was Aeron wearing only a towel around his hips, tattoos and thick muscle intertwining in a blurred dash for his laundry basket, with a pile of clothes wrapped in a tight wad in the hand that wasn’t occupied keeping the towel on.
It wasn’t an image I planned to soon forget.
“It’s already runnin’,” he commented as he reached the washing machine. “Why’s it runnin’?”
“It’s a washing machine, and I’m washing stuff in it!” I called, trying to keep my eyes anywhere but on him. There was a shuffle of fabric, heavy footsteps headed back toward the bathroom, then a minute later, my left earbud popped out of my ear. Aeron loomed right behind me, his head hanging over the futon as he put the earbud up to his own ear, then bobbed his head in time with my music.
“Nice.” He stuck it back in my ear before I had a chance to give him a glare.
“Am I still not looking?” I asked, squinting the eye nearest him.
“Yup.” He trotted around toward my field of vision, fully clothed in a thin, v-necked white tee and green plaid lounge pants. A crackled maroon streak ran down his bulging tricep toward his elbow.
“You’ve got dried blood there.” I gestured.
“Fuck!” He brought up the offending elbow, twisting it around to look. “So much for that, innit?”
“Ya know, you could’ve just said, ‘don’t ask me why I’m bleeding.’” I suppressed a snicker with my hand. “I’d have been cool with that.”
“What, ‘cool with that’ like you didn’t look when I said? Some lady you are.” His grin offered a playful challenge.
I pulled out my ear buds, pursing my lips in a tease. “And now I’m offended. Good job. See if I give you any rice and beans.”
“Is ‘at what’s taken over my kitchen?” He glanced over me at the stove. “What’re you makin’ with ten pounds of rice and a billion beans, then?”
I snorted. “Dinner, that’s what.”
“We’re gonna explode!” Aeron pantomimed a popping balloon with his hands and air in his cheeks.
“Not all of it tonight. That’s my groceries until my next paycheck; I’ve gotta save some.”
I regretted the words as soon as they registered as shock on his face. His hands dropped in time with his jaw. “You mean to tell me…”
“Forget it! You forget what I said about beans, and I’ll forget about the bloody arm.” I tilted my head in an offer of truce, knowing it’d get slapped down the second I said it. “While I’m at it, why are you bleeding?”
Totally ignoring my question, he went on the offense. “Oh, no, Lessie, we’re about to go ‘round on this one.” A fire had kindled behind Aeron’s eyes, fanned to raging by his bruised sense of justice. “You’re little enough as it is; no need to go starvin’…”
I shook my head. “I’m not doing it on purpose. I like to eat!”
“Then why…”
Instantly on the defensive, I shoved my computer off my lap. “How much do you think HarmonE pays interns? Enough to have a place to live of their own and a full banquet every day? And it’s full-time with work I have to do, so there’s no space for a part-time gig to make the rest of the money.”
“So, you been livin’ since May on scraps, is ‘at it? I saw ‘ow you was sleepin’ in your car. And you almost preferred it to this, which I don’t mind so much.” Aeron’s fists clenched at his side as he spoke through gritted teeth. “But it ain’t no way to live, Lessie!”
My own volume crept up with offense as I rose off the futon. “I’m managing just fine!”
“Oh, you are, are you?” With a mocking huff, Aeron crossed his arms over his puffed-out chest. “Sleepin’ in your car, eatin’ rice and beans when you can scrape a few pennies togevver, rentin’ a picnic bench and a tap for a flat? ‘At’s just fine, is it?”
“Do you think it’s easy for somebody from the middle of nowhere’sville, who lived on a farm for Pete’s sake, with three brothers Mama and Daddy have to feed, to break free of that life?” I put my hands on my hips. “Small towns are like quicksand waiting to suck you back in. When you have no money and no connections and no prospects and a crappy online degree? Normal people don’t get opportunities like this, Aeron!”
My voice took on a hoarse note as I counted off on my fingers. “I might be living like a hobo for now, but I’ve got a regular paycheck, a promising career, and I’m doing what I worked my tushie off at school to do. This is my chance!”
Aeron leaned in toward me, gaze boring through my skull. “And to do this job, you’ve gotta get Darrel to scrounge you up necros in exchange for dates? Puttin’ you in situations you don’t wanna be in, is ‘at it?”
“Yes, that’s exactly it! That’s what I have to do, and I hate that the world has to be this way, but I’m doing it, aren’t I? I haven’t failed… not yet.” An idea sparked in my brain. “Wait, are you saying necros aren’t situations I need to be in?” I fixed him with a hard look.
He burst out laughing, a change so sudden it startled me. “No, I meant dates wiv Darrel, you plonker!” With a wheezing laugh, he sank onto the corner of the coffee table, slapping it with his palm. “I’ve ‘alf a mind to crash it.”
I waved him off, happy enough for a break in his intensity that I didn’t have to create. “You do that.” Hissing from the kitchen reminded me that I was cooking dinner. “My rice!” I jumped up, setting my laptop on the coffee table as I rushed toward the kitchen to turn down the burner. Despite my neglect, the food was coming along nicely.
I took a couple deep breaths, rolling my shoulders and forcing my hands to unclench. Jeez, I hate arguing. And what were we even arguing about? I couldn’t even figure out where we were disagreeing.
While I was working on calming myself down again, I stirred my spice blend into the dish. In my enervated state, I was extra aware of Aeron tromping around the apartment, busying himself doing god-knows-what.
As upset as I was, I wasn’t exactly mad. He’d been arguing against me in my defense. I was more hurt—this really wasn’t what I’d hoped for when I left home. Sometimes you have to make sacrifices to get somewhere… but yeah, I’d be an idiot if I said it wasn’t hard.
How could I be angry that he wanted better for me than I’d pushed for? I could be hurt that it took someone on the outside to tell me that. But what could I even do? Hot tears spilled out of my eyes again, and I didn’t bother to wipe them away. Let him see, for all I care. Let him a
ssume whatever he wants to think.
Tomorrow, I’ll be gone. I’ll find someplace to stay, out of the way of their turf war with whoever the watchlings are. Don will have to respect my need for space, and Aeron will go on doing whatever Aeron’s been doing.
“‘Ey.” He padded lighter on his now-socked feet as he approached the kitchen, head inclined like he was looking around some invisible barrier to see me. He was wearing jeans and his jacket again, not the comfort wear he’d been in a few minutes earlier. “You do all this?” He gestured to the clean spaces in the house.
Here we go again. I nodded, taking a ragged breath to compose myself as I stirred the pots.
“Why?”
“Because I’m leaving, Aeron. I wanted to thank you for all the help you’ve been.” I took a ragged breath. “I didn’t want to… to leave like...” I pressed my lips together, willing my composure to hold.
He took another two steps toward me, evaluating me with a long, hard stare.
I locked my gaze on the rice so I wouldn’t look at him. If I turned, I’d lose my resolve, and I’d never manage to do this.
His thumb brushed my cheek, the rough callus scratching against my salt-raw skin as he collected a tear. “Did I do this?” He showed me the moisture on his finger.
No, everything did this. And yes, you were a big part of everything. I shrugged, then nodded, eyes downcast.
Aeron rocked back on his heels, eyeing me up and down like he was sizing up his contender for a boxing match. “I can fix this.” He pointed a finger at me. “Don’t you go cleanin’ up my messes, Lessie. Leave it to me to do that, eh?”
“I just wanted to leave you better off than I found you.” A hiccup escaped, and I forced my breathing to still. “You did… so much for me.” A dozen half-expressed emotions roiled beneath the surface.
