“…I just feel stupid all of the time. Like I can’t do anything right!” Giulia slumped into the couch and hid her face in her hands.
Her friend Juliet sighed sympathetically, “The brain is one of the most complex, most resilient clumps of matter that the universe will and has ever known. It can be an enemy or a friend depending on the habits you feed it.” She rested her hand on her shoulder, “Please love yourself, starting today.”
“911 what’s your emergency?”
“I’ve uh- just found an unconscious woman off of Pine Crest Drive.”
The young man’s voice trembled, "She looks my age, about 20 or so."
“Is she breathing sir?”
“Yes, she is, her stomach is moving up and down,” he took a deep breath, “Um, so- she’s wearing this pink dress that looks like it’s been ripped to shreds by a person or some animal or something. I have no idea how long she’s been here.”
“Is she injured?”
“No. No, I don’t think so. She doesn't have any scratches or bruises or anything like that. She could've gotten run over though! She was laying right in the middle of the road!"
"Where is she now?"
"She's on the side of the road with me, I'm crouched next to her."
“Does she have any ID or personal belongings on her person?”
“No, she doesn’t have a purse or anythi- oh my god. I- she’s waking up!”
The woman's eyes fluttered open and she winced. Her voice was hoarse as she clutched her head, "Où... suis-je? Que se passe-t-il?"
"She's speaking... french? I think? Yeah. It sounds like french."
"Sir, you said you were on Pine Crest Drive?"
"Yes."
"Okay, I just notified an ambulance and police are also on their way, what color is your car"?
"It's bright orange, you can't miss it. Please hurry!"
He hung up his cell phone and felt the woman's head. No fever. He spoke to her gently, "Do you speak English?"
Tears rapidly ran down her face as she began to screech, "Aidez-moi! Je ne comprends pas! Où suis-je?!"
His eyes pleaded with her, "No, no! Please don't cry, don't scream." He gently wrapped his arms around her, and after a minute she stopped screeching.
"Je veux rentrer à la maison..." she quietly cried into his flannel shirt, soaking it with her tears.
He held her tighter, "I don't know you, and you don't know me, but I'm going to help you get through this. Whatever is going on, I'm here to help."
Both of their ears perked up. Suddenly the faint sounds of an ambulance and two police cruisers became louder and louder until they rounded the corner and stopped a few feet away.
A blood-curdling scream echoed across the road and into the forest as the woman now clutched him in a death grip, shaking uncontrollably.
"Shhhhh, shhhh, they are here to help you. It's going to be okay."
They both slowly rose to their feet as two medics and a police officer approached. The young man gently took the woman's hands off of him and motioned her towards the female medic. She offered the woman a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders,
"We can take her from here, we're taking her to the hospital on Jefferson."
The woman had tears streaming down her eyes again. "Wait. I need to go with her."
The police officer spoke up, "Hi, I'm Officer Mark." The two shook hands, "I understand that you're anxious, but before you can go to the hospital I just need to have you answer a series of questions first. It's just protocol, I'm sure you understand." The young man nodded, meeting the woman's eyes as she entered the ambulance.
Officer Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook with a pen and took the pen cap off with his teeth, "Alright son, can I get your first and last name?"
"My name is Peter. Peter Charming."
“No crowds today,” he thought. Perfect. With a cane assisting his limp, Ulrich leisurely strolled down the narrow, hedge-laden path. He hated the hustle, bustle, and overabundance of new noises that modern living brought with it in recent decades. Ping. Ding. Brrrang. Level 4! Call from John. Ear-drum-shatteringly loud music from crackly car radios. He missed a slower-paced way of life back in his younger years, but fearing ridicule and of being labeled a ‘Boomer’, he kept his ideologies mostly to himself.
It was abnormally hushed, save for two small sparrows and the slight rustle of the wind through the trees. A light cardigan was perfect for his last interview with his new employers this afternoon. After a few minutes, Ulrich rounded the corner to see two men in black suits and ties standing side-by-side by the rustic water fountain.
Both on the thinner side but strong, they had kept their physiques well for men in their late thirties. Most would be intimidated by two towering muscular men in such official attire, but they were different. A quiet sense of deep gratitude and humility seemed to emanate from them like warm sunshine, unlike one of stereotypical stoicism.
“Hello Mr. Lamb, I’m Agent Maffei One and this is Maffei Two.” The three men exchanged firm handshakes as Ulrich replied, “Greetings Gentlemen! Quiet today isn’t it?” They nodded nonchalantly. “Ah!” He gave a knowing smile, “So you both are the reason.” “You see Mr. Lamb,” Two began, “Considering the sensitive nature of our subject topics, we thought it best for our meeting to be carried out this way.” Ulrich chuckled, “I understand.” Two adjusted his dark shades and continued, “We were wondering if you had any questions before we continued to the second phase.”
“Yes.” “Hmm?” “You said that my family would be compensated financially?” “Yes, Mr. Lamb. Due to the immense and most gratuitous nature of your contribution to this project- your wife, child, and grandchildren will be financially taken care of for the rest of their lives and will not see another day of work if they so wish.” “And the faking of my death?” “The fabrication will be handled in a fashion that will draw the least amount of shock and grief possible for those closest to you. I’m sure this aspect will be especially difficult for you, but please believe that it resides in trustworthy hands.”
Ulrich nodded and sniffed as he wiped a lone tear away from his eye. Melancholy began to well up from the agent's faces as they looked upon the older gentleman wiping yet more tears from his eyes. One spoke sympathetically, “Mr. Lamb, it isn’t uncommon for some to withdraw themselves from the project at this stage. Are you sure you would like to proceed?”
He began to nod furiously as he wiped his last tear, “I know this is the right thing for me to do.” Determination and endurance suddenly seemed to seep into his being. “Boys, I don’t have a lot of years left in these old and tired bones. I’ve served in two wars, lost several family members to various illnesses and accidents, and have memories so heinous that I do not wish to recount them. I am needed. If I can both secure the future of my family and make the world a better place to live for all, then the way I see it- I have a duty that must be fulfilled. There’s just no other way around it for me.”
They were thoroughly impressed and shook his hand once again. One smiled gently, “With that being the case then, we happily welcome you to our branch of over 500 participants. We’ll be your testing supervisors, so we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other in the years to come. Your contribution to this project will further segue our opportunity to educate the global public about bettering both themselves and future generations.” “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Two reached into his suit pocket and extended his hand to reveal a circular lavender pill which seemed to gleam and sparkle underneath the fading afternoon sun.
Ulrich stared uncertainly at the pill for a moment, then back to the agent. Seeing the older gentleman slightly unsettled, he looked to him reassuringly, “It won’t cause harm. It was specifically designed to give the recipient a calming effect before being gradually rendered unconscious. We deeply appreciate your trust in us to hold your life in our hands.”
Ulrich gently took the lavender pill and examined it up close, then observed its shimmering effect from the sun by moving it back and forth.
“By the time you wake, we will be on a boat en route to Antarctica, where you’ll meet a small fraction of other recruits from your branch.”
He only stared at the pill now, “A new start,” he thought. “A new life, or at least what’s left of it. Goodbye Barbara.” Ulrich gently placed it in his mouth and began to chew the pill, sealing his fate. Just like its lavender color, it seemed to have a- hmm?- a presumably lavender taste? It was pleasant and mild whatever it was.
Expecting something instantaneously he looked at his legs, arms, then raised an eyebrow at the agents. “I don’t feel anything yet.” “You will Mr. Lamb,” One said adjusting his watch.
“Hey um- are the rest of them like you?” They both stared at him curiously. “Out there, in that big expanse that we call the universe; the rest of them, are they like you?” One gave a somber sigh, “I wish I could confidently say they are. Sadly they are not. But- that is one of the many reasons why our race is considered the teachers of the universe, and why the universe itself has asked us to intervene in its behalf. We are here to help you, as well as ‘the rest’ come into peace and harmony.”
“Oookay I need the bench, I feel my eyes getting heavy now.” The two agents aided an unsteady Ulrich over to the bench in front of the fountain, and Two tucked the cane under it proudly proclaiming, “You won’t need this anymore!” “I’ve been looking forward to that!” Ulrich laughed boisterously and smiled wide. The agents also laughed and smiled as they watched their recruit close his eyes.
Warmth gradually spread throughout his limbs and with it came abnormal heaviness, and he could no longer move even if he so desired. This surprisingly did not scare him in the slightest, as a peace unlike anything he had ever felt had pervaded his body.
“Can you still hear us, Mr. Lamb?” One inquired. “Mmhmm.” “When you wake up, do not be frightened. We will look quite different to you and you will not be familiar with our native forms. This is how it will be from this point forward.”
The wind, the tweeting sparrows, and the agent's voices faded, being replaced by a ringing in his ears that grew louder and louder- stiflingly loud- until suddenly there was silence. Ulrich was unconscious.
One gazed at the old man the way a father would gaze fondly upon his sleeping child. “Thank you for your sacrifice, Mr. Lamb.”
I hate that I’m going to have to pretend. I abhor pretending. I took a deep breath as I saw the two of them round the brick building corner from the parking lot, staring into each other's eyes and hand-in-hand like a stupid Disney sitcom.
“Charlotte!” Sam skipped up and swung her arms around me in a strong squeeze. I haven’t known her too long, but we’ve already become so close.
She beamed all wide-eyed and pretty next to her skyscraper boyfriend. At 5’10” and 6’6”, they were quite a sight to behold. Literally Abercrombie models. I’m pencil-thin too, but not in a pretty way.
“This is-“
“Benjamin?” I mustered up the most bewildered look I could.
“Charlotte!” He grinned. “Charlotte is one of my best employees.”
She beamed so hard now she was practically a lighthouse. Being mildly amused he nodded to her.
“I didn’t know this Benjamin was your boss!”
“Sure is. What Benjamin could run Armitage Insurance better than Benjamin Armitage?”
They both laughed, though his was a smidge weaker. Still hand-in-hand, she swung his a bit. “We’ve been dating for a couple of weeks now. I wanted to put some time into it before I told you. You understand, right?” Her country accent twanged as she gave me her famous puppy-dog eyes.
Chuckling I nodded, “Of course friend. I understand.”
“I hope this won’t be too awkward for you Charlotte.”
Oh, you have no idea you insolent fool. Or maybe you do, whatever.
I put on my best Hollywood actress face, “Nah boss, it’s all good! Just treat my friend right and everything’s cool!”
He coughed and pushed up his tortoiseshell frames then motioned towards the front doors, “Shall we go in then?”
Dinner was great I mean- I ate all my garlic bread for one thing, but even still, most of my fettuccine remained in the bowl. My stomach was just not having it tonight for some reason; like it knew something bad was going to happen.
Thoughts flooded my head all night. How on Earth was I going to tell Sam that something just isn’t right with her ‘Mr. Right?’ I found out they got together after they’d been only dating for about a few days. Freddie in accounting has a mouth big enough to make a mahjong group blush, bless him. I had been working for two years under Benjamin’s father-a strict, scary gentleman in his own right, but who left me alone for the most part because I was one of his most valued and high-performing employees-then he acquired the business after his father retired. Harold was scary, but Benjamin was unsettling. Every girl in the office fell to his feet and worshipped him, but I just rolled my eyes and tried to keep a low profile.
Something was off with him though, even if I was the only one who saw it. The girls would go on and on about his ‘dreamy eyes’, while all I saw were two holes in his head and a clown mask plastered over his face. He was… “too” kind, “too” sweet, “too” dumb and innocent. He laughed too much. He smiled too much. Everything about him silently spoke to me just above a whisper, “Avoid him. He is dangerous.” Despite the several employee of the month awards, commendation, occasional treats- just no. I wouldn’t trust him with my stamp collection, let alone my wallet. He also had questionable friendships with the outwardly unsavory characters around the office. “Oh, he’s just friends with everyone. Give him a break will you?” George from maintenance groaned. “He can’t help that he’s well-liked by everyone and you’re not. Put yourself out there like he does and warm up a little will ya sunshine?” Geez, George.
Sam rose from her chair, “Good heavens, I need the bathroom. I’ll be back.” She sashayed away swinging her ponytail back and forth.
I was moving my fettuccine from side to side with my fork when suddenly I felt very cold. My stomach’s prophecy was about to come true. I lifted my head and saw a completely different man glaring at me. His voice was icy, low, and flat; a way of speaking that everyone could never believe belonged to ‘Good Ol’ Benjamin.’ “I love Sam. I love her very much, and I know she loves me too,” he paused and took a sip of his wine, he looked at the glass, “Sam and her lovely family, as I hear it, also has quite the small fortune.” He set his glass down and abruptly leaned in from across the table; staring at me with those dead holes for eyes and lingering for a bit. Breath reeking of garlic he sputters as he puts a death grip on my wrist while scratching it in the process, “If you even think- about changing her mind about me for just a moment,” our noses were almost touching now, “I will- end your life. Maybe just your career. We’ll see.”
I’m shaking violently. My wrist is throbbing. Tears are falling. I feel violated, weak, empty, and sick. I’m whimpering loudly now. He lets go of me and smacks the table loud enough to draw attention from nearby patrons. “Stop it,” he hissed. He leans back to a normal sitting position and rests his elbows on the table yawning as if he does this every Tuesday night. A slightly warmer voice returns, “You’re going to be a good girl and cover the tab for us. Got it?” He smiled wryly. I nodded, and with what composure I could muster, I dug into my purse and put my credit card at the far end of the table with the check. “Good.”
I need to get out of here, I need to run. What am I going to do? Can I even help Sam now?
Stiletto heels began to click-clack furiously on the tile floors as Sam rushed over to our table. “Oh my god! What happened?! Are you okay?!” Her eyes shined with concern and shock as she gently rubbed my back and took her cloth napkin to my tears. She turned to Benjamin, “Baby, what in the world happened?! I was only gone for like five minutes!”
Plastic Benjamin was now back, better than ever, full throttle. High-toned melodramatic fakery almost squeaked out of him, “Just as Charlotte paid for our meal, she got some very upsetting news over the phone!” At that moment the waitress came and took the check from the table. Sam got on her knees and put her hands on my shoulders, then gently turned me to face her and spoke softly like a song, “Char? Is this all true? What happened? How can I help? Is there anything I can do to make whatever is going on better?” She wiped away more tears.
All I can do is shake like a leaf, whimper, and leak fluid from my eyes. Run. Run. Run. It’s all I have on my mind. I have to go. I’m in danger.
I instantly rose from my chair, “I have to go now Sam-“ my voice cracks, “I’m so sorry.” Cries bellowed from my body as I dashed out the door, completely abandoning my credit card because at this point that’s the least of my problems.
I ran and I ran and I ran until I reached the end of the parking lot seeking shelter in my rusty old Honda.
What do I do now? How do I save Sam? Or can I only save myself?
“Oh that poor woman!” “She never found love in life.” “How could she go on?” “There’s no way I could do that.” “What a lonely, awful life.”
They made false judgements Some days, silence was comfort Others it was death But Tess never felt lacking As much love surrounded her
Friends close and friends far Family here and family there A congregation A farm full of animals And warm-hearted workers too
The casket lowers Inside her wrinkled face beams Just as when alive So don’t feel sorry for her She lived life to the fullest
“Marlboro Reds. Two.” The older gentleman grunted, reaching into his jeans pocket for a torn and faded wallet which had long seen better days.
I got off the stool and opened the cigarette cabinet with the cluster of keys that hung off my khakis. I slid him the boxes and he slid me the money, as if it were some kind of a strange, western stand-off.
“Thank you, have a great day,” I yawned.
He stopped in his tracks before he reached for the front door, “You’re too young to be tired, son!” He laughed, mocking me. I rolled my eyes as the door banged shut behind him.
This guy came in every couple of days. I’m pretty sure he’s homeless and lives in a cardboard box somewhere a few blocks away, so I have no idea where he’s getting the money to buy these pricey cigarettes. His name is Hank, I think? That’s what Skip told me anyway. They both seem to get along well for whatever reason.
He actually left about 15 minutes ago, so now I’m left to fend for this glorified convenience store all by myself. “Oh- so uh, I’ve got a hot date tonight, so I’m headin’ out early! Don’t tell Frank,” he winked and grinned widely, in his usual fashion. Sure buddy. Sure thing. You’ve got about as much skill with the ladies as I do trying to putt a golf ball with a zucchini. But sure.
An hour passed. Then another. One more and I’ll be out of here and can finally pass out on my cousin’s couch and be ready for another pointless day. Can I even make it until then?
The bell above the front door loudly jingled and jolted me out of a dream where I was riding a taco like a mechanical bull. I loudly snorted and righted myself to see an exceptionally tall girl staring strangely at me. She had to be at least 6’2” and around my age. As a 19 year-old 6-footer I’ve never met a girl that was taller than me before.
I looked down to see a puddle of drool where I was sleeping and sheepishly wiped the rest off my cheek.
She was completely unfazed, “Do you guys sell cakes here? Like big ones?”
This isn’t a bakery.
“Uh- sometimes we have a couple, but we normally just sell them by the slice.”
“Oh okay.”
She wore a gold necklace with the letter D. Darcy? Daisy? Dana? Her baggy jeans dragged across the floor as she made her way to the back in search of cake. I wonder what the occasion is, I mean- it is almost midnight. I think there’s only a large chocolate and a medium strawberry cream back there; we ran out of individual slices yesterday.
She happily hollered from the back, “I didn’t know you guys had decorating stuff too! Sweet!”
She sure is cheerful. Is she always like this? Or did something really good happen to her? I can’t tell.
She plopped the strawberry cream cake, decorating supplies, a jar of pickles, a pack of Reese’s cups, and a watermelon vitamin water on the counter and smiled excitedly.
“You sure have quite the goods there, what’s the occasion?”
She slapped the counter dramatically and looked off by the hot dog warmer that was still slowly rotating. “Well, it’s like this ya see-” she looked back over at me.
“In my opinion, I don’t think we celebrate enough of the little things. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“I don’t know if you really do though.”
“If you explain I’ll listen.”
She took the hood off of her head and loose red curls fell out.
Her cartoonishly big blue eyes seemed to drift off into a space that wasn’t quite here but wasn’t quite over there either, “In my opinion, as a people, most of us celebrate things like birthdays, anniversaries, graduations, stuff like that, but that’s all outward stuff. Nobody celebrates the inner stuff that we accomplish.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Things like- finally becoming fluent in a language, overcoming social anxiety, putting together your first set of IKEA furniture without help, stuff like that.”
“I see, I see.”
“Also for example, guess what I did literally a few hours ago?”
“What?”
“I left all four of my ‘best friends’- including my boyfriend who cheated on me with one of them-“ she sprung up three fingers, “THREE TIMES by the way!” She gently lowered her hand. “ -now I’m completely alone. With no friends or boyfriend to be had. Making that decision to leave them was one of the easiest yet hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life. I deserve something at least, ya know?”
I had a feeling she wasn’t quite done, so I motioned for her to continue.
“Do I get a cake for waking up? Realizing my kindness was being abused and that this is not how real friends are supposed to be? How about one for standing up to the people who bullied me, talked behind my back, and pretended to care about me and throwing them out of my life?
Dang. She was onto something here. I wish I got a cake for standing up to my abusive, alcoholic parents and moving out to brave the world with my cousin.
“How about for breaking up with my boyfriend while risking him spreading untrue rumors about me and my past mistakes, knowing I deserve better for myself?”
“I totally agree with everything you’re saying. These kinds of victories and other ‘little’ things like that just aren’t appreciated and celebrated enough honestly.“
She smiled hopefully, like someone finally understood where she was coming from.
“One more thing too!” She pulled out a card and plopped it on the counter. “I just got a gig over at the Blue Mule to play every weekend! My favorite place!” She shook her head. “No cake for that either.”
We both laughed, and it was the first time I had really truly laughed the past couple of days. She’s definitely a breath of fresh air around these parts.
“Now I’m going to go home and decorate my own cake and eat every bite of it. Because me and others deserve to celebrate our inner victories, as you said.”
Oh god. I think I’m blushing. No no no no.
She squinted at my name tag, “Blake.” I pointed finger guns at her awkwardly and she cackled. “I like you Blake. You’re like, a really good listener.”
“So I’ve been told, heh.”
“Most people don’t really take the time to hear me out, so I really appreciate this. You’re a pretty chill guy.”
Most people don’t really say chill, they use the words boring, dull, or traditional usually.
“What’s your name?”
“Dalaena.”
Dalaena. That’s pretty.
I took the card and flipped it over:
BLUE MULE BAR & RESTAURANT DALAENA PERKINS FRI-SAT 8-10pm
“I’ve never been to the Blue Mule, but I’d love to hear you play sometime. I bet you’re great. What kind of music do you play?”
“Folk mostly, though I experiment with piano at times too.”
“Sounds awesome. I’ll see you there tomorrow, I get off at around 7.”
“Sweet!”
She playfully grabbed my hand and shook it, “Thank you so much. Seriously. I didn’t think I’d make a new friend this quickly!”
Wow. Someone actually thanked me and wants to be my friend? Yep, definitely blushing. Aaaand now I’m smiling all big too. Hah.
“I’ll see you then!” Dalaena let the door shut as she began to skip away.
I called out after her behind the glass, “I’ll bring the other cake! Don’t you worry!”
She stopped and guffawed for a few seconds, waved good-bye and then continued to skip away with her brown paper bag.
Who is this smiling, gregarious doofus whose possessed my body? I’m definitely not used to this. But honestly? It feels right. Maybe she can teach me a thing or two about celebrating the small things in life and putting myself out there more.
What do I have to lose?
“I don’t know why. I just couldn’t help myself,” David smiled smugly.
Chocolate-y crumbs and smears lined his entire mouth, “You know Andrea, you need to be more careful next time!” He licked his fingers then wiped his hands on his dinosaur boxers, “Anybody could just easily open your fridge and take something like that.”
My entire devil’s food cake disappeared into the void of a 6 year-old, never again to see the light of day.
My voice was dripping with rage, “That cake was for Michael! What is wrong with you?! I made that from scratch for his graduation tomorrow!”
“Who cares about your stupid boyfriend,” he moaned as he rinsed the dish off in the sink.
“That’s it. I’m calling your parents. Then I’m calling my parents because Mackenzie is in trouble too, she CLEARLY wasn’t watching you and doing her job AGAIN.” He dramatically dropped the plate in the sink. “I don’t care!” He screeched as he stomped away.
David was a monster. This wasn’t the first time he had done something like this, but Mackenzie still babysits for him, and my parents still allow her to volunteer. “It’s good for her and teaches her to be more responsible,” My mother would foolishly always say. Mackenzie likes to believe I can just pick up her slack, and I did for awhile, but this is the last and final straw. Nobody messes with my baked goods.
Suddenly he stops in his tracks. A look of panic rose on his face as he lunged toward the sliding glass door, banging it loudly as it opened. He began to wail like a banshee as he hung over the wooden railing outside. Seconds later his cries turned into gurgles as the chocolate cake gained a grand victory and had it’s revenge.
And so did I.
