by Lex Chase
He took one slow breath and then another, his chest rising and falling, trying to steady his hammering heart. He closed his eyes and let himself accept the moment.
His yellow employee shirt, the very symbol of his purgatorial prison bled away into a soft, faded black Nine Inch Nails T-shirt, the white screen-printing of the distinct NIN logo cracked and ragged from the many years of wear and tear. The fabric of his skinny jeans shifted and shortened into baggy camouflage cargo shorts, the frayed hem brushing like spider webs against his knees. His toes curled and then eased into his well-loved black and red Air Jordans.
They were the last set of clothes he had wanted to see when he had first come to CASA. The reminder that he was once human. The reminder he had a heart.
Now he never wanted to take them off.
“Hey,” he said as Benji kept his attention fully on the doors.
Benji spun on his heel and then stumbled back. He tilted his head and pursed his lips.
“That’s you?” Benji asked softly. He arched a brow, and Patrick watched him puzzle through it.
Patrick nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He blinked as a piece of crumpled cardstock brushed his fingers. Pulling out the piece of trash, he smirked and held it up for Benji’s examination. “Aeon Flux,” he said, reading the print on the ticket stub. He chuckled. “That was such a shit movie.”
Benji latched on to his worn-out T-shirt and hauled him close. Their mouths met. Patrick scrabbled for a handhold on Benji. Crushing him close, Patrick would force them to be one person if he could. Benji had coaxed him into being gentle last night, but there was nothing gentle about how they clung to each other. Shivering from their auras igniting, and the deep love that would endure, they breathed the same breath. Overhead, the electrical systems hummed to life around them. The auxiliary lights flicked on in marching rows, and the ventilation hissed and sucked the airflow.
The doors parted, flooding them with the blazing morning light. Construction crews flowed through the doors and around them like water over stones. Men clicked on their flashlights and gathered by the umbrella stands as they considered the floor plans. Fire marshals confirmed orders into their walkie-talkies. Harried employees followed next, leading work crews to the most affected areas. Patrick caught a glimpse of Tommy out of the corner of his eye. The poor kid seemed to notice him too. Patrick winked at him, and Tommy jolted like he was about to swallow his tongue.
Sighing, Patrick pressed his forehead to Benji’s, and they listened to the chattering wave flow around them. He ran his thumb over Benji’s bottom lip. “You’re making me late for work, cupcake,” he whispered. “We’re going to stop playing this ‘I love you, I love you more’ shit.”
Benji took Patrick’s thumb in his mouth and nodded. He let go of Patrick and then took a hesitant step toward the entrance as repair crews slid past them.
“It’s beautiful,” Benji said in awe.
Patrick blinked through the spots in his eyes. When his vision adjusted to the consuming light, he choked. “Would you look at that?”
Benji turned to him, his brows drawn in question. “You’ve seen it all along, haven’t you?”
Patrick shrugged. “It was faint, but yeah. I couldn’t make out what it was, exactly. But it hasn’t opened onto the abyss for me in a very long time.”
Benji looked out the doors and turned back to Patrick questioningly. “And now?”
Puffy white clouds drifted across the crystalline blue skies. The manicured trees lining the sidewalks seemed to glow green from within. Birds cooed to one another as they fluttered along. Patrick’s beloved robins zipped across his line of sight, heading away from CASA, across the shiny black parking lot leading into the horizon. A resplendent big box store monolith rose in the distance. The iconic red circular signage called them forth like a heavenly voice.
Patrick smiled faintly. “It’s a Scope.”
Benji beamed. “Not just any Scope. It’s a Super Scope. Bet it has a Queequeg Coffee inside.”
“Is that the frou-frou coffee place thing where people order shit with too many words and you pay six bucks for it?”
Benji gasped in mock affront. “Heathen.” He tilted his head and flicked a glance over Patrick’s outdated clothes. “Holy shit, you’ve actually never been to a Queequeg Coffee, have you?”
Patrick shook his head.
“Oh, man. I can’t wait to see your face the first time you take a sip.”
“I am not paying fucking six bucks for coffee with a name I can’t pronounce.”
It was a joke, but Patrick’s stomach lurched. Benji was talking like they had a future together. Like he’d be there with him. Like they’d be there together.
For the first time ever, standing in front of the doors didn’t make Patrick’s heart race and his palms sweat. He felt peaceful. At home. Right. He looked down at his outfit and snorted. At least at Scope he wouldn’t need to rely on Lost and Found.
Benji reached out for his hand. He nodded toward Scope. “Coffee date?”
There were a thousand reasons to say no. Maybe more. The unknown wasn’t any more defined today than it had been yesterday. But somehow it didn’t look as bleak with Benji by his side.
Slapping his hand into Benji’s, Patrick took the lead. “Race you.”
Epilogue: CIALDA
Agnes stepped lightly through the empty aisles. Silent serenity reigned over the affordable furniture.
She smiled, full of such pride the lighting flickered over her head. Patrick had finally taken the chance to leave. All it took was Benji’s gentle coaxing and infectious innocence to make Patrick realize he could breathe again.
Agnes wrinkled her nose. Gentle coaxing couldn’t be further from the truth. They had all dragged Patrick kicking and screaming like a child throwing the most irrational of tantrums in the middle of a department store.
She glanced around her. The store hummed with sleeping energy. She snorted at the irony. Stubborn shit though he was, Agnes understood the torture he had hidden in the deepest parts of himself. At last he knew peace.
Wherever he and Benji had gone—Scope, or even that cute new bistro on the corner—Agnes knew they’d found their little slice of heaven.
Patrick would finally experience fatherhood with Benji. They’d have the white picket fence, two cats and a dog, and the love Patrick was convinced he never deserved.
Agnes loved him like a son, and now she regretted not telling him more.
As she stood in the silence, she didn’t realize the void Patrick and Benji had left behind. Their laugher was a fleeting memory, as were their stolen kisses in inappropriate places. Patrick had said he never cared as a defense mechanism against ever getting attached. But with Benji at his side, he didn’t have a care in the world.
Drifting into the bedding showroom, she found Patrick’s beloved MILAN bed. It had been remade with a new MODENA mattress and colorful feminine sheets with a coordinating duvet. The shiny plastic price tag proclaimed the bed was on final clearance.
Agnes chuckled and slowly passed her hand over the tag, altering the lettering to read:
For Display Only
It was the least she could do in his memory. Patrick would have been over the moon if he knew the best-selling line in all of the CASA corporation was the worst seller in their store. He had been adamant about protecting his sacred space, and it was a duty that Agnes would proudly uphold.
“I thought they’d never leave,” Karin said from behind Agnes. There was a smile in her tone. “I hate to say it, but I’m going to miss them.”
Agnes turned toward her and frowned with firm disapproval. “If I had to listen to Patrick’s incessant whining for one more day, I would have fed him to Jabba myself.” She straightened her cardigan primly.
Karin smirked, and reached out to pat her shoulder. “It’s okay to miss them.” Her lips pulled into a hungry grin. “How about some meatballs? Henry is pitching one hell of a fit.”
Agnes pinched
the bridge of her nose, trying to ease away a headache. “I owe that man everything. He has the patience of a saint.”
“Look who’s talking,” Karin said as she stood straighter, beaming with pride.
Agnes took the lead to the café, only walking two steps away from Patrick’s MILAN and then dispersing into sparks of light. She winked back into existence in the darkened café at the head of the lunch counter. The various dishes and desserts were prepped and ready for service once CASA opened for the day. The frozen tiramisu slowly thawed in the refrigeration case. A sheen of condensation glistened across the dusting of cocoa powder.
Agnes wrinkled her nose in amusement. Tiramisu. Patrick’s favorite thing. As much as he insisted he couldn’t eat them anymore, Agnes knew he must have snuck a few once in a while. She laughed behind her fingers. That boy.
She went through the motions of preparing herself a plate. Agnes gave a shifty glance around the café as Henry chowed down on his meatballs with a broody frown. She took her chance and pilfered extra POLPETTA meatballs, but went light on the gnocchi, yet heavy on the sweet tomato jam. No one ever knew of her vices.
She said nothing as she joined Henry at his usual table. He chewed angrily on his meatballs as he glared at his crossword puzzle like the page had called him a string of profanities.
“It’s not going to run away, dearest,” Agnes cooed as she gently speared a steaming meatball.
Henry grumbled and then took another mouthful of gnocchi. “You know how long I’ve been starving?” he mumbled around a full mouth.
“Long enough,” Karin said as she materialized in the chair next to him. She rubbed her hands and smiled gleefully at her plate of CIALDA waffles topped with an overload of whipped cream.
“There was only so much pushing a meatball around my plate and meaningfully staring off into space I could take before I wanted to smack the shit out of that arrogant man,” Henry rumbled and then shoved another meatball in his mouth. “He took my crosswords. They were mine.”
Agnes gave him a comforting pat on the back of his hand. “You made a noble sacrifice, my love.”
“You try next time and see how long you last,” Henry pouted. His distinguished brow furrowed in that petulant way. “You couldn’t go a minute without correcting them.”
Agnes huffed. Henry had a way of getting under her skin. “Everyone has their own methods,” she said and then adjusted her glasses. “But mine are better.”
They laughed together, the CASA filling with a new kind of joy. Patrick and Benji were gone, and they wouldn’t remember their time as spirits here.
Henry laced his fingers with hers, and Agnes blushed.
Karin blinked owlishly. “All right, you lovebirds,” she warned them as she wiped a dab of whipped cream from the corner of her mouth.
Agnes snorted. “One day, you will learn the joy of finding your missing piece.”
Karin crunched on one of her waffles and glowered at Agnes. It was her attempt at silencing her jabs, but Agnes reveled in the fact that she’d won.
“Um…. Excuse me…?” A young man’s voice carried over the café.
The three of them were shocked to attention and turned toward the sound.
With a carefree smile, the young man brushed away the dark curly mop of hair hanging in his eyes. He shuffled his feet, his cowboy boots clicking across the floor. He wore the trendy worn jeans that all of the modern young men seemed to favor these days, and a slim-fitting tee printed with the words I’m A Pepper Too!
Agnes narrowed her eyes, perplexed by the oddity that somehow this new Impression seemed to be a perfect mix of Benji and Patrick’s traits in one man. She glanced at Karin and then back at the young man. Karin held her fork to her lips, but her cheeks flushed an impossible-to-miss pink.
Henry smirked at Agnes and gave a conspiratorial nod. He ruffled his crossword puzzle page and pretended to ponder the next clue. “Looks like someone has a new job to do,” he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
Karin puffed out her cheeks in annoyance. She glared at Henry like a teenager humiliated for gawking at a rock star. Agnes held her tongue and fought every urge not to burst into cackles.
The young man stepped further into the café, and Karin shot to her feet.
“I didn’t think they let customers in before opening,” he said somewhat sheepishly. He smiled apologetically to them. “I’m really not sure how I got here, come to think of it.”
“I can help with that,” Karin said with a polite nod.
Agnes pretended to make herself busy as she stole a glance at Karin wringing her hands behind her back.
Standing straighter, Karin held her head high like a proper young lady. “What’s your name?”
The Impression rubbed at the back of his head, his dark curls fluffing around his face. He seemed at a loss for words as he tried to recall.
Henry glanced at Agnes, and Agnes waved him off. Together they waited for the Impression to gain clarity.
“Adam,” he said and nodded as if it had just come to him. “It’s Adam.”
Karin sucked in a slow breath, seeming bewildered.
“I’m Karin,” she said extending a hand and casting a radiating smile. “Welcome to CASA.”
Agnes smiled broadly as Karin excitedly elaborated on the finer points of employment. She giggled to herself.
Henry arched a brow. “You old meddler.”
She winked at Henry. “Life is a lot like CASA furniture. It comes in pieces, and some assembly is required.”
