Jared grabbed his neck in reflex. “You mean, it was planned—you made it bring us here? Why didn’t you just take us straight to the beach?”
“That would be because of the inception of a disturbance paradigm. This was the best I could do. We’re good that we pulled through where we did.” Banch gave an ahem and rolled her hand for him to continue opening the door.
“That sounds like a risk you shouldn’t have taken then.”
“Had I not used the Cosmic Scream, you would be in the Assembly’s possession and I would likely be facing punishment in the lowest dungeon in their fortress.”
“What about—”
“Jared!” Banch seethed. “Open the frigging door!”
He hummed discordantly, but obeyed. As he pulled open the door a rush went through Banch; she’d lingered on the fringes of Jared’s personal space since his birth, but the rooms he dwelled within, observed from her own dimensional axis, were only shadows within shadows. Such a familiar territory brought her a smile, despite not having had an actual presence in this place. A familiar warmth spread through her, a homecoming, even if she’d frequented many homes in this world. Still, there wasn’t time to get nostalgic. There wasn’t time for much of anything now that the Assembly had arrived. She would have to find a way to keep them from heading them off at the beach. A slight detour might be necessary.
“Do you think Eun Sun can spare a box of detergent?” she asked Jared. “We’ll need an entire box.”
Jared turned to her, brow softly furrowed. It was apparently still difficult for him to grasp how she knew everything about his life, including his neighbors, the Kangjun family, who fed him and did his laundry.
“Uh… we can ask her,” he finally said. “I think she’s home.”
“No,” Banch said, rethinking the idea. “On second thought, let’s not involve anybody else. We can buy some detergent on the way to the beach.”
“So why are we here then?”
“To finish what we started with that dirt. Now we need to get you into some blue clothes.”
“Blue?”
“Do I have a speech impediment?”
“I… don’t… think so?”
She rolled her eyes. “Can you find it inside yourself to just let some things go unquestioned? We really need to move quicker than we have.”
“Sure. Blue clothes. All of them?”
“Underwear, shirt—uh, those jeans aren’t blue enough—pants then, and socks. Oh, and wear your old Nikes under your bed, they’re mostly blue.”
“This is so crazy… that you know so much.” Shaking his head, he went through the living room, past the kitchenette and into the hall. “Why do I need to wear blue?”
Banch groaned. “Oh great shit, fine, I’ll explain while you search.”
The bedroom was plastered in movie posters from the 80s and 90s, with some abstract art prints he’d taken a liking to when he’d briefly attended art school. Over the single window was a stop sign he and Kaitlin had stolen from that very same time period.
He rounded the unmade bed and opened the top dresser drawer. “Okay… Blue.”
“Some of these things aren’t easily explained, Jared. In my world the senses are unified and transferred interchangeably at times. The color blue will further distort your scent with the green color of the soil perking beneath your skin. It adds another layer over the scent of the Gift and will make it more difficult for them to sniff you out.”
“Makes sense.”
“Does it now?”
“Not even remotely. But very little does make sense today.” Jared tossed some blue boxers on the top of the dresser.
“The ones without the stripes,” Banch noted.
He glanced over his shoulder.
She snapped her fingers. “Today, guy, today.”
He went back through the drawers and found the blue boxers, some navy dress socks, and a sky blue t-shirt. It would have been better if every article was a similar tone of blue, but it would work almost as well.
“I have some blue sweatpants next door in the laundry, but that’s it for my pants options. I guess we can go buy something.”
Banch shook her head. Too many detours. They really needed to get out in front of the Assembly; the farther, the better. “We have to get you clothed quickly or the blue won’t grasp the green as well.”
Jared snorted. “Well that sucks.”
“Oh hush.”
“I can run over there to the Kangjuns,” he said, shutting the drawer and standing up from the dresser. “You can wait here. I’ll be fast.”
“I can’t leave your side.”
“Not even for five minutes?”
She took his hand and pulled him close. His eyes didn’t leave hers. His whole life, all in those eyes, and now in his death… She didn’t want to think of it. Even without the Assembly involved, the news of her favorite project’s early demise had twisted her heart. Death wasn’t fair. She knew that better than most, but why him? Why so early? Why couldn’t he have more time to grow into himself? Many special people had been taken and she was weary of it. So unbelievably weary. With the right guidance, Jared could evolve into greatness; the universe needed more like him. He just needed a chance. And now, he would never have one. All she could try to do was prevent the agony that the Assembly promised for him. It was the one way to show him how much he meant to her.
As they lingered, she drew even closer to him, thinking these thoughts, feeling the warmth of this apartment and of him. His lips approached hers. “This really is real,” he said. “Isn’t it?”
“Do you want it to be a dream instead?” she asked with a grin. “Would it be mine, or yours?”
He swallowed loudly. “Mine, of course.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
Suddenly she got hold of herself, took in a deep breath, and pulled away. Awkwardly, she patted his shoulder and squeezed it.
He nodded. “Right, yeah, we should...”
“Go,” she added. “Yes.”
With a shy signal to the hall, he led her out of his bedroom. “Since we’re seeing Eun Sun, we can ask if she has that detergent we need. As strange of a request as that is, I have left that part of this unquestioned. Proud of me?”
“Always, honey. Always.”
Jared blushed and looked away.
Banch really needed to focus on why she was here. This wasn’t wish fulfillment. This was saving Jared from an afterlife of endless pain and spiritual torment. Then doing what she needed to do for herself. The one selfish part in all of this, but it would be her reward if they made it to the beach.
* * *
Banch could feel the Assembly’s unease. They were regrouping and she’d have to be ready for their next move. As Eun Sun answered the door, Banch went through some of those moves in her head and tried not to flinch when the woman’s eyes moved from Jared’s to hers. It was strange to realize people in this place couldn’t taste your thoughts. After that bracing realization came over her, Banch’s heart brightened. Meeting Eun Sun in person was an honor she’d not expected. The woman and her husband Bae had been so gracious for Jared helping them with their English. They’d treated him like a son for years. Since Jared couldn’t cook—or was afraid to try—Eun Sun prepared his breakfast and his dinner. Before the Kangjuns had moved in, he’d always eaten out, three meals a day. He was saving money now, losing weight, and no longer had his friend Kaitlin coming over to help with the coin-op laundry down the street, a chore which she’d been giving him a hard time about for years.
“This is?” asked Eun Sun, extending her hand for Banch.
Banch returned her soft, sincere handshake. “It’s not Betty, that’s for sure.”
“Eun Sun, this is my new friend, Banch. We were just, well, I needed to find my sweatpants in the laundry.”
“Not washed yet.” Eun Sun’s eyebrows lifted with grim concern. Laundry was a source of dignity to the woman. She’d often make Jared strip off wrinkled shirts at th
e table and flee the table to iron them rather than finish her own breakfast.
“It’s good that it’s dirty,” said Banch. “More of your scent.”
“That’s fine, Eun Sun,” Jared insisted. “Really.”
“Please, come.” The older woman beckoned them inside.
“Oh, do you have another box of detergent? I’ll buy you a new one. We need one right now.”
Eun Sun looked positively startled. “You want… clothes washed… someone else?”
“No no, this is for my friend Banch. We are… uh, testing out her new washing machine.”
After a moment’s thought, Eun Sun nodded. “I see, you, and you, want to eat? Too early? For dinner—no, lunch?”
“Oh thanks, but we’re in a hurry. We have to go soon.”
A quick nod and Eun Sun shuffled down the hall.
“She’s come a long way. You’ve tutored them so well,” said Banch.
“They’ve taught me a lot too.”
“You’re a good teacher. I’ve always wondered why you didn’t teach kids. Isn’t there good money in that?”
Jared shrugged one shoulder. “Not really. And besides, I’m not much of a kid person.”
“Got to make peace with kids.”
“What?”
“It’s like reconciling the past,” Banch told him. “I was never a child so it’s a foreign idea to me, but I think it’s useful to make peace with children. It’s coming to understand life in its rawest form.”
“If you say so. Snotty, loud, and destructive, as far as I care to know.”
Banch laughed. “So they are…” Her eyes lit on a fish bowl and suddenly her mind raced with an idea. She picked up the bowl. Two circling purple fish seemed to be stirring the mixture for her. She sniffed the water. Beyond perfect.
“What are you doing with that?” asked Jared.
That would do nicely. She dipped the bowl on its side and spilled half the water on the carpet near the door. The fish swam around madly as their world lessened.
“Banch! What’s gotten into you?”
“They aren’t fresh water variety,” she explained.
“They’re going to be the no-water variety if you keep holding it that way!”
“My apologies.” She set the bowl back down. Jared looked at the puddle on the floor, awestruck. “Do I need to go fill it up with more water?” she suggested.
“No! Just don’t touch anything else and we’ll be good.”
With slow grace, Banch ran a finger down the side of his smooth arm. “Gonna sue me now?”
Eun Sun emerged with a basket of Jared’s clothes. “Sorry no more—extra? Box of soap, the, the, the…”
“We got it, that’s okay. Thanks for looking.”
Jared bent over and rummaged through his clothes.
Eun Sun looked at him and then Banch, searching for the right word. She smiled. “He… good person. People? Good man.”
A faint smile came to Jared’s lips, but he didn’t look up from his work.
“Geuneun ibnida,” said Banch. “Naneun olae jeon-e geuwa salang-e ppajyeossda.”
He is. I fell in love with him a long time ago.
Eun Sun blushed and sniffed out a little laugh. Jared drew up his sweat pants from inside the basket and regarded them both. “You two up to no good?”
Banch put a hand on her hip. “That’s the best way to be up.”
“Thank you,” Jared said to Eun Sun, and put his sweat pants over his arm. “Say hello to Bae for us.”
“Dinner… tonight?” she asked.
“Not tonight.”
Eun Sun nodded with a sly smile and saw them to the door. She noticed the puddle on the carpet and studied it in confusion.
“Jared neun mulgogi geuleus eul heul lyeoss-eo,” said Banch. Joesonghabnida, geuneun seotuleun.”
Jared spilled your fish bowl. Sorry, he’s such an oaf.
Banch and Eun Sun burst out laughing and Jared watched them both, sensing the joke revolved around him. They left into the hall, and Banch already missed this home. She would have loved to play cards with Jared and Bae at their dinner table and try a large bowl of Eun Sun’s beef soup.
Banch put Eun Sun’s and Bae’s deaths out of her mind, even though she knew the events well. Thinking in the moment always did her heart so much better.
Chapter 6
The Assembly
We wouldn’t lose our prize. The Silent Kings’ promise will be fulfilled to our number. We’ve kept the light and dark from converging and we’ve suffered for it. So it was our due to release the last century from our trembling, scabbed hands onto another. It was our reprieve. It was our right. Sometimes, it was the only reason we believed for our existence, even more than sorting shadows and sunbursts for the glory and health of all the dimensions. After the day was done and we laid on the cold stone floor of the fortress at the elemental hinge, covered in our blood and filth, we dreamed about the next Gift who will release the woe of our lot.
We hated this banshee for taking that away, especially since it is something she would never understand, for whatever reason, out of selfishness or cruelty. She was decidedly both, and craftier than we cared to deal with at the moment. Somehow she had played a move ahead of us again. The scent of the Gift was gone or so faint, it remained undetected now. This was undoubtedly her doing. For all the trouble we went through to acquire the scent, and wasting one of our three grants to claim those lives, she’d suddenly made all that meaningless. How we’d have loved to pull that golden voice box from her neck and share bites while she stared at us, aspirating, hemorrhaging. Relying on fantasy didn’t get us any closer to the Gift however.
“Bring out the scroll,” we growled.
The Seventh reached into a pocket in his gore-covered slacks and lifted out the dripping sanguine document. He unrolled it with a jerk, spattering blood over the faces of the Second and the Eighth. The blood remained there on their faces in fresh streamers, a history in red. We lived through blood: the scarlet, the pink, the brown, and the blackest of rot.
“Where does Jared die?” we asked.
The Seventh read for a moment and grunted. The new information spread through all of our minds. The Gift would expire at his place of work, an office building a mile or so from here. To the north, with a short turn on Styx Street.
We broke off, a pack of muscular frenzy and need. Some humans in running clothes watched us from across the street. From their dull eyes and gaping mouths it was clear they’d never seen or even thought about anything like us. But that was not such a surprise. A mite cannot lift its ugly head to the sky and understand the approach of a world-ending meteor. It is not fair to ask something like that of nothinglings.
Our pace became a trot, which became a sprint. The air dried some of the blood on our bare backs and in our tangled, ratty hair. New blood would replace it soon. A relished certainty.
Several of our number quit the sidewalk for the street, the connection with this world becoming stronger and less biting to the bones. It was a sensation that our entire number sensed, so all ten followed suit. Yes. The connection was better. We felt stronger and more aware of this place, and the pain of not having complete residence was but a slight tingle in our soles.
We arrived at the office building that was luckily only a single story structure, making this stop much easier. WESTCOAST DATA EXCELLENCE. The double doors slid open without manual operation. We filed into the lobby and stood before a reception desk. A small Japanese fountain bubbled near the wall with a lonesome bamboo shaft poking through the pebbles. Beyond the lobby area, a sea of cubicles stretched to the outer reaches of the building, a blue-gray morass.
“Oh God! What?” A curly haired woman in a blue pantsuit rounded the desk, a cell phone clutched in her hand. She stood away from them, terrified and watching the blood pitter-patter on the floor. “Leave here at once. I’m calling the police.”
“Give us Jared Kare’s address,” we demanded. “Then we will leave you
r building.”
Her eyes widened, stricken by our communal voice.
She retreated further into the hall and glanced at her phone. The Sixth moved to her and caught her wrist.
“The police,” she said with a yelp.
“We don’t care about your blue-coated strongmen and their metal. We bear the fabric of time and its billion fibers tearing across our exposed hearts, flayed open to welcome the falling acid from the universe’s teeth. Now…” we told her. The Sixth tightened his grip and the phone tumbled from her hand and clattered on the beige tile floor. “Give us the address.”
The woman gulped and sealed her eyes shut.
“Rose!” called a bald man, standing stock still at the side of the desk.
“Bill…” she whispered, opening her eyes partway.
“Jared Kare, his address,” we insisted. “Or we will fill her womb with enough darkness to bring a litter of devil dogs.”
The Sixth forced Rose to the wall, ran his hand down his bare stomach until it reached the buckle in his right suspender. He unfastened it and his pants slid sideways, revealing the side of one of his bloodstained buttocks.
“No,” cried Bill. “I can get his personnel file. Just don’t hurt her.”
“Hurry,” we whispered. The Sixth nudged his seeping scarlet lips against Rose’s cheek as he said this with us and the movement left a violent flower of color on her.
Bill almost slipped as he tore away to a file cabinet down the hall. He crashed into the water cooler and it gurgled loudly.
The Sixth grabbed Rose under her knee and hefted up her leg. He brought his hips closer to her and softly nipped at her pale neck. We watched with fascination, enjoying the shared excitement and need surging at the two bodies.
“Here! Jared’s stuff.” Bill waved a paper overhead and charged back to us, his loafers clapping on the tile. “It’s here, please let her go. I’ll… I’ll give this to you.”
The Fourth intercepted him, swiped the page away, and pushed him into the desk so hard he took a seat on top of it.
The Fourth read the Human Resources profile and it filled all of our minds. We’d memorized this city before leaving the fortress, so we knew this particular residence was a few miles east.
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