Chapter 8, Something to Say, but Very Little to Speak
Around him is black, alone, and empty. It's as if he's Floating, bobbing in an inky black sea. His limbs are tight to himself, desperate for a feeling, any feeling to communicate with himself that he is still, in fact, present. He knows he's alive. He can hear his heartbeat. Beating so rapidly that it causes static tremors that glide from his body and ripple on the thick slick surface. All his weight is pressed down, compressing himself, hoping to sink to the bottom, if there even is one. But he is buoyant. There is still life in this body of his. And when he holds his breath and feels himself slip away, he can't help but feel at peace. It is tempting. Every time it grows more and more tempting. Content that he is floating, and it scares him. It scares him to be in peace with this darkness.
Everett's eyes flickered open. He was staring down at his weathered little desk; it was tiny and awkwardly square. His knees pressed up against the top and rattled it slightly. On top was a small post-it note, a garish fluorescent yellow. "Meet me at 5," was haphazardly scribbled courtesy of Thomas. Everett had been eyeing the message all afternoon, ever since it appeared on his desk after lunch. It seemed to bring him back to the truth of his situation. Everett was enjoying pretending he never existed previous to coming to Logwood.
It had been a few days since Ash and himself were on that hiking trail. Life seemed new. His little room felt like home. The barren walls were comforting and the empty corners clean. He was even happy with work. It was repetitive, making the days short. Life had made a routine, and Everett wanted nothing more but to stay with it. Ash and Everett even grab coffee at lunch. Life seems good.
Everett looked down at the pile of papers that were neatly stacked beside him. He had finished sorting the second batch of documents and must have blanked out. Luckily it didn't look like Laura had noticed. She was still clattering away on her keyboard. There was another woman here today, one of the women he had seen previously. She was at a desk beside Laura, a little further back. She hadn't said much all day, but she seemed kind, greeting Everett when he came into work. She was younger than Laura, maybe in her early thirties, and appeared to be another humble resident of this little town.
At that moment, Laura stopped typing. She paused before spinning her big puffy chair around to greet the other two.
"It's 4:15; I've finished everything. How about you two?" Laura glared up at the young woman, who smiled and nodded her head. She seemed above Laura's scare tactics. Laura nodded before darting over to Everett. Who, on the other hand, was not over Her scare tactics. She didn't even have to say anything to see that Everett had finished his daily work and some. She stood up, wiping her rattling keys and pushing in her chair with the side of her thin black high heel. Laura came into work today wearing a black wrap dress, fancier than she usually wears, along with her hair done and neat makeup. So it didn't shock Everett that they were leaving early. It was clear she had somewhere to be, and it was written all over her promptly puffy hair-sprayed hair.
All three made their way outside, and Laura wasted no time, clattering down the steps and sauntering to her car. Everett and the other woman stood by the door, watching as Laura speeded away.
"Let's hope this date goes well," the other woman chuckled. Everett turned to her, "you should have seen her after the divorce. Maybe this new guy will knock some sense into her." She added with a cheeky grin. She slipped her way down the steps, Everett still following her with his eyes. Till she turned completely around, flinging her hand up to wave goodbye before she made her way up the windy slope.
Everett let out a smile, feeling the cool summer air, it was windy today, and a few clouds lay puffed in the soft blue sky. He made his way to the gravel, swishing his feet a few times to hear the crunching sound. He watched as his stained shoes swished, frayed at the laces, and in all honesty, should have been tossed a while ago. He was making his way to his car when a pair of sleek black trainers with bright blue socks entered his vision. Everett lifted his gaze, following the shoes to a couple of thin, tan legs up to their light washed short denim overalls and a baseball tee. Everett finally made his way to the face. Oval and a soft ivory color, bright rosy honey cheeks framed by long chocolate brown hair.
"Good afternoon, Amanda." Everett smiled. She didn't return the gesture.
She stood awkwardly, looking up and staring at Everett with upturned eyebrows.
"Am I bothering you?" She softly asked, her hands tucked behind her back. Everett shook his head, and she let off a faint smile. She was pretty. Everett thought so the first time he saw her. The problem was She was upstaged continuously by her friend. Jennifer was the kind of girl who made anyone look ten-times uglier than they were. The type of beautiful that scared Everett. On the other hand, Amanda was the kind of pretty that was subtle, and maybe that came down to how she presented herself. She had less confidence than Everett, and that was saying something.
"Are you looking for Ash? I don't think he's done work yet?" Everett expressed. Amanda shook her head, her soft straight hair tossing back and forth over her shoulders.
"I know; I'm here to talk to you." She responded. she had a kind and sweet voice. It sounded like she sang when she talked, but it wasn't so high-pitched that it was nauseating. Everett was a slight bit confused, offering to sit, but she denied the proposal.
"Would you date me?" She interjected.
"What?" Everett's eyes went large. He fumbled a little, swaying back and forth on what to say.
"not actually, like hypothetically, would you date me?" She corrected herself. Everett let out a tiny breath, still lost and unsure what to say. "like if you were a boy, and you knew me, would you like me." She added.
"I am a boy?"
"you didn't answer the question," she pouted.
Everett crossed his arms, the question felt like a trick one, and her desperate tone made him feel uncomfortable. All he could really tell her was that it was too personal. She seemed unpleased with this response, as her face went back to that soft expression. She kicked her foot in the gravel a little.
"has he ever talked about me or even mentioned me," she sheepishly asked. Everett pursed his lips, blinking a few times.
"Who?"
Amanda's face went red as she stared up at Everett, her eyes wide and her mouth tightly together. A look that made Everett feel embarrassed. He thought for a moment, Amanda's eyes still locked on him.
"Ash?"
"Yes?" A distant voice answered.
The two turned their head quickly to the side; standing about a meter or two away was Ash, cigarette in hand. He looked beat, messy hair that was up in a bun, and cold dead eyes. Amanda straightened up, her whole attitude changed, that sweet smile returned. It was short-lived, with Amanda's and Ash's dull conversation about work ending. Amanda let out a quick goodbye as she said she was running late. What for? That was a mystery to all. She left quickly. Leaving Everett still somewhat confused.
Ash let out a huff, the smoke exiting his nose and mouth. The pale sun shining ribbons of gold on his sleek dark hair. He sunk deep into the gravel. His posture was loose and his shoulders down. He took a few steps closer, a distinct smell of salt, sweat, and fish. They made Ash clean the boats today without any heads up, and he'll be doing it all day tomorrow as well. Everett gave Ash a sympathy smile.
"Don't pity me, or I'll find a way to have you help tomorrow." Ash glared. Everett let out a chuckle at Ash's coldness. But he looked less interested in talking about his shitty day and instead about the scene that just took place. Everett filled the silent air with talk about the young fresh face girl. Ash didn't have too much to say about her that he hadn't already said. Amanda was a good friend if that's what it means to be good friends. She came by often to say hello. She talked about her day. He didn't mind, then Jennifer came around. Ash was kind of excited that Amanda had made friends, especially because she seemed alone. He was expecting her to stop hanging around, but instead, she would invite him to hang with them, Amanda, Jennifer, and a few others, that is. But just because they were her friends didn't mean they were his. He didn't like them. That's what he admitted. They don't see him as anything but the rumors that spread about him when he first showed up to Logwood.
Everett felt like he was holding onto a secret. Ash took one last puff of his cigarette, chuckling, telling Everett that he's happy he went with Him instead of the bonfire. Explaining how last time Jennifer's boyfriend, Dave wanted to fight him after getting too drunk, Ash refused, and they made it all the way back to Logwood, Dave still egging him on,
Ash was drunk but not that drunk to know he couldn't win against a big guy like Dave. Dave was so pissed that he decided to punch a hole in the door.
Ash dropped his cigarette on the gravel, crunching it with his boot.
"The dumbest part is I had to patch the hole up," Ash shook his head. Everett perked up.
"you know how to do that?" He leaned in towards Ash, who nodded his head.
"What if it was a fare-sized hole," he added.
"The dude's fist went through," Ash bluntly explained.
Everett nodded while Ash squinted his eyes,
"did you punch a hole through your door?"
Everett turned to Ash quickly, a slight gasp, as he shook his head, fanning his hand back and forth. Ash let out a sigh.
"Ok, let's see it." Ash trudged over to Everett's car, his hand resting in the door handle, waiting to be let inside. Everett blushed, explaining that it wasn't the door or his fist, Ash just nodded. The two slipped into the car, Everett turning to Ash one last time, explaining that he didn't have to come to look at it right now, but Ash already had his seat buckle on.
Everett slipped the car in reverse, muttering to both himself and Ash that he didn't punch the door. Ash couldn't help but laugh. He reached into his pocket, pulling out another cigarette, lifting it so Everett could see. Everett nodded but barked at him to unroll the window. Ash did so as he lit the end with his lighter. Musty fog filling the car before trailing out the window.
"What did Amanda say to you?" Ash asked softly, the cigarette pressed against his parted lips. Everett let out a sigh, shrugging his shoulders. The smoke puffing out of Ash's nostrils as he sat back.
"What, did she ask you out or something?" Ash mocked. Everett's eyes went large, trying his best to keep his eyes on the road as he sternly denied the question. Everett could tell that Ash was picking up on the tension. He could feel him staring. His hand leaning out of the car window, the cigarette between his two fingers. The car had gotten quiet. The only sound was the rattling of the engine and the faint hiss of the broken stereo.
"What would you have said?" Ash interrupted the silence.
"What?"
"What would you have said if she did ask you out," he repeated more sternly. Ash looked from side to side till he found himself staring straight ahead, forcing a slight chuckle that didn't suit the atmosphere. Everett leaned back, sinking into his seat. His hands loose on the steering wheel. What would he have said? He wasn't too sure. She was pretty, and he was sure she had a good enough personality to hang with Ash of all people. He just didn't know Amanda, so his best guess was no, but what if she asked him later? What if they became friends first? What if he was in Ash's position? The thought made his body feel strange, like gliding down a steep slope.
"No," Everett gently replied. Ash nodded.
They pulled up to the curve, both of them slipping out of the car. Ash looked up at the old building, no sign to the little shop, just 1616 written in bronze. Everett wasted no time, opening the glass door and holding it open for the other teen. They entered. The lights were slightly dim, and the room just as crowded. Everett knew there was a possibility that Miss Whitman was around, and after their first interaction, Everett thought it best to avoid her, which he had successfully done so far. Everett was almost to the back door when he noticed someone wasn't behind him. He peeked back before fully turning around. Ash was bent down, squatting; he was petting the small gray cat. He was close to him, rubbing her cheek against his leg. Everett took a deep breath, slumping over to the two. Karma immediately peered up, her eyes a deep golden buzz that was turning Everett to stone.
Ash ran his hands from Karma's head to her tail, but she was preoccupied with giving death glares. Ash snickered, regurgitating the same thing everyone told him. How ironic that cats don't like him. Like it was Everett's choice, but even though it was annoying, he couldn't help but laugh. A few thuds came from behind the two, down from the stairs' steps till they reached the bottom, tapping to a stop. The two turned around. Standing in front of the back door was Miss Whitman. Small and slender, and wearing a crinkled sneer. Ash lifted himself.
"Karma likes very few, so think yourself lucky," she turned to Everett, "but she hates many less." Everett gulped slightly before letting out a faint hello; Ash was unbothered. Standing with a slight lean as he darted his eyes around the crowded mess of the store floor. Everett stood, hoping to leave, but Ash had left his side by this time, wandering around.
Miss Whitman hobbled over like a creeping ballerina. All her jewelry twinkling together with each step. She had a sour expression that screamed every negative affirmation. She stood relatively close before sweeping down and gently scooping up the gray cat. She sat as she always did, with a regal pose, just this time in the arms of her owner. Karma had never stopped glaring at Everett. Her head seemed to stay in place as Miss Whitman moved around. However, Miss Whitman didn't seem interested in Everett, quickly shifting her body and focus across the room.
There was Ash in the back corner. It was a part of the shop that Everett hadn't noticed very well before. It was more crowded than anywhere else. Large Velvety sheets in deep Merlots and emerald greens hung loosely around. Pillows littered the counters and floors, decorated with large and small stones. Shining and reflecting dazzling light from their sharp surfaces. Mirrors lay upright toward a small table. If you could call it a table, it was more like three stools, with one slightly larger stool in the middle. On top was a giant glass orb, a pale clear colour, shining teal from one angle and pink from the other. Ash was staring down, his focus on the group of crystals around the giant orb.
"Are you a healer?" Ash asked. He was examining a shard of clear quartz. Miss Whitman took a few steps forward, closer to Ash, and Everett did the same, pacing behind her slowly. Karma jumped from the woman's hands to her shoulders, resting like a pelt.
"I don't care about others misfortune," The older woman huffed. Ash shook his head, still examining the large stone. He had a face that screams "bull shit." An expression that only amplified when he turned to greet the older woman's haunting stare. She cleared her voice, getting relatively close to the dark-haired teen. "I do what the universe tells me." She hissed, her words trailing into the chiming of the stones.
Miss Whitman snapped her hand forward, but not to the gem, instead to Ash's hand. Everett's eyes went wide, fearing that he would need to break up this confrontation. Miss Whitman gripped tight on Ash's hand with the stone in it, and turned it over slightly, till his ring was present. Her eyes trailed around, following the concaves of the tiny green gem in the eye of the delicately designed silver bird.
"Beautiful but how unfortunate," her face was dull, "such a magnificent stone, pure with love and truth, degraded with such a self-serving charm." Ash flicked his hand away, peering up at the woman. She let out a smile. "must be heavy."
The two glared at each other, Ash gently laying down the stone again. Miss Whitman circled around, sitting on one of the stools, her ring fingers trailing around the top of the giant orb.
"it's good to see someone who appreciates crystals; most people just trudge through them without picking them back up." Her glare darted over to Everett.
Everett swung his head down, averting his gaze, his hands resting firmly in the side pockets of his loose corduroy jacket. He was standing a few steps back, watching as Miss Whitman continued to gently caressed the top of the orb. Light flickers of swirling colour were spinning inside, glaring beams that trailed out and into the air. Entrancing Everett, he squeaked forward. Unable to rip his gaze away, as if he was a fish attracted to the hazy green glow of lights laying low in the murky water. Ash didn't seem to impress his face leaning down and more focused on his hand resting on the corner of the small table.
The two stayed quiet, and when Miss Whitman beckoned them to sit, Everett did so without any hesitation. On the other hand, Ash took a few pauses before inching his way down, sitting close to the edge of the stool. His feet were firm on the ground, and his body stiff and forward. Everett shook his head, finally able to pull his eyes away. It felt familiar, but not. He couldn't stop staring, pulling him in and fogging his mind. Manipulation, that's what Ash cursed. Ash accused Miss Whitman of manipulation. She laughed a high crinkly cackle at his accusation, her long wrinkled fingers lifting up before softly gliding down. She reached for something on the table, but the two couldn't see before both of her closed fists wrapped around whatever it was.
Everett was still trapped in the daze of the dim lights and bright flashes. Her grin was cold and didn't suit her sour face.
"Clear your mind, let yourself breathe," her voice hissed; Everett's eyes felt heavy, the room dimmer, and a hazy blue glow crept in his vision. "Only what your mind wants you to see will show."
Ash looked like a smudged, blurry fragment of what he used to be. Everett's hands lifting without even thinking. It just felt right. Ash was mimicking him, but every inch closer meant the world lost focus. His hands softly laying flush on the cold, perfectly smooth surface.
Everett's eyes darted open, everything was black for a moment, before a flood of bright colours rushed past him, speeding as if he was in the car, but it was just him. He was standing in nothing; blackness was above and below him. The colours crackled and popped, hissing past him like vibrant fireworks. They were close to him, not even an arm's length away, but when Everett went to move, he lay still. His body was held in place. A slight panic as he tried to turn himself around, but by doing that, all he felt was something slam against his back, hard and pressing against his spine, then his feet started to slip to a rested position, he felt nothing underneath him. Was he falling? He tightly closed his eyes, his fingers twitching till he gathered enough strength to swing them out and to the side of him, gripping back.
He felt a warm softness flutter his skin, a soft paper texture between his fingers, and tickling his nape. A sensation that couldn't be forgotten. Everett's eyes shot open, above him the most gorgeous sunset, puffy gray clouds in a sea of violet and amber. He lifted himself slightly. He was lying on his back, his hands gripping onto the long blades of grass. A light yellowish-green, gently sun-bleached at the tips. There was still darkness in the air, a navy that smudges across the brilliant horizon, and the realization that Everett was, in fact, wrong. This wasn't a sunset but rather a sunrise.
He lifted himself entirely up, sitting down in the ever-expanding sea of grass. There were no mountains; there was no end, just a soft wash of green that reflected the hazy morning. But something more dazzling was what lay nestled between the blades. Large full blooming peonies. Delicate orange petals flowing like the finest of silk. A precious crown of ribbons, Everett couldn't help but smile. The sweet scent entered his nostrils, trailing down and into a sparkling citrus sting. There was no breeze. The air was cool but not chilly.
When he stood up, he felt the earth, its strength, its safety. He was aware of every part of himself, and he wasn't in pain. He was free. He could jump and scream and twirl. He could run. Run forever. Runaway, and never look back, leave everything that hurts, that sting inside that was a barren void.
He went to leap to soar across the rows of grass when he heard something. Soft at first, like a chime, like something falling and hitting the hard floor. There was a woman's voice, yet Everett couldn't make it out. She had the most mesmerizing voice, sharp but stern. Who was she? he thought. She's apologizing. Why is she apologizing? Yet in the same breath, she's cursing, "a failure," she spits. Everett knew this smell; it smells like blood, a hint of smoke, a touch of sulfur. "A coward," she echoes, "I loved you," she shrieks. It's overlapped with more muffled sounds. It's overtaking. He needs to leave, and he needs to run.
"Everett?"
Everett quickly shot his head over his shoulders, twisting slightly so he could turn behind him. It was Ash, or Everett believed so.
"It's me, if you're wondering," Ash replied as if he could read Everett's mind. His voice was calm but shaky. He looked around, his hands lay limp in his Jean pockets.
"Is this a memory?" He asked, his gaze darted out. Everett shook his head.
"A fantasy, maybe?" Everett smiled.
"better than mine, I'll tell you that," Ash chuckled. Everett darted his gaze back.
"How does Miss Whitman know?"
"She doesn't," Ash quickly replied. "she can escort us here," he added.
Everett turned back, peering into the hazy morning. Looking out at the field that traveled on forever.
"let's go explore," Everett grinned, still watching the still blades of grass and beautiful flowers.
"What about the hole?" Ash curiously asked.
"what about it," Everett responded. Ash said nothing. He was still, and his breaths were amplified by the quietness. "It'll always be there, even when it's patched up, so why does it matter," Everett continued, his voice seemed to trail away.
"do you believe that?" Ash asked softly. Everett bit his lip slightly, his brow furrowed.
"It doesn't matter, just run with me, Ash, let's run" Everett flipped back to meet Ash again. The most enormous smile he had ever made in his life planted on his warm face, his puffy hair bouncing as he twisted around.
Ash stood still, his heart practically beating out of his chest. His eyes were large, glassy, and staring at Everett with a deep intensity that tears virtually formed. His mouth was open slightly, teeth clenched. He was pale, almost colourless. It was a face Everett had never seen before, and as fast as Ash demonstrated it, he also got rid of it, tucking his head down. Everett went to follow his gaze. Below them, the peonies pulsed like a heartbeat, opening, and closing. Everett glanced up.
"Ash?"
"I'm sorry, Everett, I need to go," he spat through his teeth. Everett reached his hand out, but as soon as he did, Ash was gone. Everett was alone. The sky got dull, dark even. All the golden hues vanished. The flowers darted closed. Everett squeezed his eyes shut.
He opened them with a deep breath. The small table's dark wood sat in front of him, a thin purple silk cloth and a plush pillow with the giant orb. Everett peered up to Ash, who was standing. His stool was on the ground, knocked over. He didn't say anything. He quickly darted away, moving swiftly through the clutter.
"Ash?" Everett cried. He quickly jolted up. A deep stinging pain rushing in his upper thigh that had him stumble slightly. Everett leaned down, gripping just above his knee. He bit his tongue hard to not curse. The door slammed closed, and just like that, Ash was gone.
Miss Whitman let out a sigh, opening her palms to reveal two black stones. The one closer to Everett was shattered, while the one in her hand closest to Ash was intact.
"Interesting," she whispered to herself.
The door creaked open, Everett swinging in hopes to see Ash again, but instead, it was the stern, earnest expression of Thomas.
"crap, what time is it?" Everett spat.
"it's just past 5:20," Thomas replied.
Everett apologized, but Thomas lifted his large hand, creased and scuffed from the day's work.
"The truck’s still running, you good to go now?" Everett nodded, lifting himself softly. He took a deep breath before limping his way across the room to meet Thomas.
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