《Countdown》


 Chapter One

    Charlie sat up in bed and looked at the clock at his side. It wasn''t ticking, modern clocks didn''t tick. However... that didn''t change the fact that he heard ticking.


    "One more day." He said to himself, and touched his forehead. There wasn''t any sweat yet, but there would be. He lay limp, like the freshly dead.


    "How much time is left? A day, a week, an hour, a month?" He asked the empty room, the four walls surrounded him. They were naked, like his body, and they said nothing, offering no answer. He found no answer in himself anymore than he found his answer anywhere else.


    "Tick."


    "Tock."


    "Tick."


    "Tock."


    The clock continued the countdown, not to the weekend, not to a holiday or birthday. It counted down to the end of the world.


    "It''s all my fault." He muttered as he slid his legs over the side of the bed and set his feet down on the cool wooden floor. ¡®How many times have I thought those exact words for the last few days?¡¯


    He didn¡¯t really have an answer, he could have counted the days, every morning since the first day after¡­ and that would have been only a fraction of the total times that he¡¯d rightly blamed himself for the coming doom.


    He trudged across the floor, kicking aside the scattered clothing, empty cans of soda, plastic containers with dried food still stuck to the inside, and made his way to the fridge. His path was cleared by bare feet that hadn¡¯t really been washed in days. Cans rattled as they clattered over the floor, and clinked off a glass bottle that rolled to a stop at the far wall.


    He flung open the fridge and searched for something. Condiments, old mustard. A ketchup bottle upside down for easy pouring, traces of ketchup on the mostly empty sides, that one was running low. Mayonnaise, he reached for that and opened it up, then took a sniff. The foul odor hit him all at once. ¡®That¡¯s no good.¡¯ He thought, then put the cap back on with a slow twisting motion and put it back into the fridge. He searched further, a few bits of rotted fruit, some grapes were rapidly turning into raisins in the crisper.


    He slammed it shut and held it there, ¡®I like raisins anyway.¡¯ He told himself, and kept hunting, the light inside flickered on and off, and the refrigerator wasn¡¯t as cold as it should have been anymore. A blue bowl caught his eye, a silver spoon sticking out of it, he reached up and brought it down below eye level. Soggy cereal with milk that demanded that he eat it before it became yogurt, stared back up at him.


    ¡°Fine. You¡¯ll do.¡± He said as if the food would talk back to him.


    He set it on the counter and took out a two liter of Sunny Dew that hadn¡¯t been opened yet. The yellow carbonated liquid sloshed around near the top of the cap and caught a glimmer of light from the sun outside, it flashed brightly for a moment before a cloud passed by and the sound of thunder rolled in.


    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t go out today even if there were a point to it.¡± He muttered and slammed the fridge shut. He snatched up the cereal, sloshing some stale milk onto the floor and putting his back to it all a moment later.


    He trudged toward the room with his bed and television and flopped down. A little more of the not quite cold enough milk splashed onto his bare arm. He licked the unwashed arm to clear the milk, and set the soda down to reach for the remote.


    The television came off of the power save mode from whenever he fell asleep watching, and he guided it to his Netflix account. [Please enter payment information, your bill is past due] He sighed and turned to his laptop. He went online and applied for another credit card. [Approved] He saw a moment later. The card number and expiration date came up and he plugged those into the screen, his bill paid, Netflix¡¯s telltale red screen came up the way it should.


    His thumb moved mindlessly over the choices he wasn¡¯t really paying attention to. He hit the button on the little black remote and set it to something that had ¡®continue watching¡¯ under it.


    ¡®Only slightly lesser known is this! Never make a bet with a Sicilian when ¡®death¡¯ is on the line!¡¯ And the cackling laughter of one of the early villains of the movie, ¡®The Princess Bride¡¯ hit his ears at the same moment he began to slurp from the bowl.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Bits of cereal caught in his unshaven beard, and the bowl was empty otherwise. None of it tasted any different than ashes, nothing had any flavor at all. He dropped the bowl on the bed and continued to watch without paying much attention.


    His hand wrapped around the two liter of soda, the hiss and pop of the bottle was the only sound other than the movie, then the sound was gone, and was replaced by a steady, constant gulp.


    Charlie held the two liter in one hand and just kept drinking.


    The bowl began to slip toward the edge of the bed, drawn toward the edge by the weight of his body on the mattress that created a slope, he paid no real attention to it. He just kept his head craned back and continued to pour the cheap eighty-nine cent knockoff brand soda down his throat. He squeezed the bottle, crackling the plastic bottle in on itself as the contents slowly drained into his belly.


    The sweet, sugary flavor was so overpowering that even he couldn¡¯t help but notice it, but it meant nothing, it brought no pleasure. In under a minute it was drained, a few drops caught in his beard, he tossed the bottle down on the floor, it bounced away into the path he¡¯d cleared only a few minutes before, and Charlie didn¡¯t notice.


    The bowl gave way to gravity and tumbled off the bed, it happened so quickly that all he could do was watch as gravity took it to its logical conclusion. It fell to the floor and shattered into seven pieces which scattered over the floor in an instant, faster and farther than his bleary, weary eyes could follow. Even so, it might not have been a problem, but they slid under the mounds of trash that scattered over the floor like a thick carpet.


    ¡°That was my last bowl.¡± He mumbled, and picked up one piece of glass that stayed where it had struck the ground and held it up, he stared at the little blue fragment that was roughly the length of one finger and the width of two.


    The calculation was done in an instant, ¡®Based on the angle struck and the manner in which it broke, there should be seven pieces like this scattered around¡­¡¯ His mind rushed to the conclusion¡­ then stopped.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter. Nothing matters.¡± He said, and dropped the piece on the floor, it didn¡¯t break, it just lay there wobbling back and forth on its curve. ¡®Eight wobbles before the momentum gives out and it stops.¡¯


    He unconsciously counted the wobble cycles, and as he usually was in such things, he was right.


    It stopped.


    But he wasn¡¯t watching any longer.


    He slowly lay himself back down to sink into the mattress and turned his head toward the television.


    Occasionally he looked at the clock at his bedside and wondered why he bothered. ¡®The whole damn world is going to end¡­ what does it matter what bloody time it is?¡¯ he didn¡¯t really have the energy to care, the trip to the refrigerator and back again took what little he had for the day.


    So the minutes drifted past, Wesley kissed the girl on screen, the music began to play.


    ¡®What next?¡¯ Charlie asked and scratched an itch on his growing belly.


    He hadn¡¯t really caught much of anything from the film, and choosing something else? ¡®So hard¡­ no¡­ just again.¡¯ He moved his hand with the speed of molasses and took up the sticky black remote and hit the back button.


    Everything rewound. Turning the story from an adventure in which a young man became the hero that saved his beloved, into the story of a hero who became an angry bitch¡¯s house servant.


    He then took his hand off the button and began to play the movie again. He saw little, he heard less, it was just ¡®there¡¯ in the background.


    The screen flickered on, and on, and on.


    The credits rolled again.


    He hit the back button, the story was told in reverse again as it rewound.


    ¡®I should pay my light bill¡­ I have a new credit card.¡¯


    ¡®I should take a shower, I haven¡¯t bathed in at least two weeks.¡¯


    ¡®I should go get food¡­¡¯


    The many ¡®I shoulds¡¯ ran through Charlie¡¯s mind like wild horses, but they ran away from him, and he felt no energy or will.


    His hand worked well enough, he reached for the remote, and rewound the movie again while rain began to pour down outside.


    Thunder rumbled, and the sound of rain began to beat against his window, the light that streamed into his apartment began to fade away, day was slowly turning into night again.


    ¡®Did I eat anything else today?¡¯ He suddenly wondered, there was no appetite, but he did feel the urge to piss.


    He slung his leg over the side and set his feet down, a sharp pain suddenly lanced through his foot, he lifted it and reached down to find that the triangular glass piece from that morning had stabbed his heel.


    He pried it out with a wind and trudged to the kitchen, he turned on the sink, hung his dick over the rim, and let loose into the noisy stream watching it wash down the drain. ¡®Unclog the toilet¡¯ was added to Charlie¡¯s list of ¡®I shoulds¡¯ that he didn¡¯t do.


    He grunted when he finished, and set the bloody tipped glass triangle down on the counter.


    He grabbed a paper towel, wet it under the faucet, and wiped the bottom of his heel, then trudged back to his bed, kicking the plastic bottle of Sunny Dew out of his way to land somewhere in the carpet of trash that covered up his wood floor.


    ¡®Will it be over tomorrow?¡¯ Charlie wondered when he lay back down on the bed again. The credits to ¡®The Princess Bride¡¯ were playing again, he rewound it and rested his head on the warm unwashed pillow.


    He stared up at the white ceiling, his eyes seeing none of it really as the darkness set in and left only the movie to light the room.


    ¡®What do I say to everyone¡­ do I tell them? How do you tell people you killed them all, that you are the one to end the world¡­ and even if you do, what then? Ask for forgiveness? Even if they believe you, what about it? Yes, they¡¯re free to live however they like in the last days, but then they have to live with the same horror you do? Ignorance is the only kindness I can offer. But still¡­ maybe I should tell them all¡­¡¯ Charlie had the argument with himself.


    But Charlie said nothing.


    Charlie did nothing.


    Charlie let the movie play on, and on, and on, and was asleep before the credits rolled, while the rain continued to pour down on the doomed world outside, and Charlie¡¯s clock ticked off another minute in time, and kept doing so in the darkness long after the television shut itself off in a pointless effort to save power.


    But he saw none of it, and had no will to feel any way about it even if he were awake.


    Alone in the darkness, the man to end the world, began to snore.

 Chapter Two

    Charlie woke up to the buzzing of the alarm.  Buzz, buzz, buzz, over and over, time after time, noise upon noise.  He turned his head to one side, looking at the cheap ten dollar clock with its little glow in the dark off-white numbers.  It was cheap black plastic and had small raised buttons at the surface that were different shapes to let a person know what they were hitting.


    ¡®Just the product for the layabout who can¡¯t even be bothered to sit up to hit the buttons.¡¯  Charlie thought and slapped it several times with artless indifference to how many times it took to hit the right one.


    The buzzing finally stopped, proof that he had done it right on the last time.  ¡®I did something right.  Yay me.¡¯  He said and ran his fingers through his sandy colored hair, then grabbed a pillow and laid it over top of his head.


    Outside, the sun had not yet risen, and despite the alarm, neither did Charlie.  ¡®I should go out for a run today.  My friends are going to be meeting up in about fifteen minutes.  I wonder if they¡¯ve stopped looking for me yet?¡¯  Despite the pillow over his head, a small crack existed there and by the light of the clock face he could see the stained remnants of his blue tracksuit and a pair of stained shoes.  ¡®There¡¯s probably enough mold in those shoes to grow a mushroom farm by now.¡¯  The tracksuit was still neatly folded, but it was under a pile of garbage, old pizza boxes and chinese takeout.  The white styrofoam containers lay open and torn, and the sweet smell of stale sauce drying into a crust was still detectable from his bed.


    Charlie¡¯s eye lingered on the tiny bits of visible clothing from days not long passed, then he shut them again.  A few minutes later, he caught sight of a glow from the floor and looked over the edge of the bed.


    The screen of his iPhone glowed, messages were coming in.  A buzzing noise began to rattle the phone, moving it a few finger widths over the floor.


    His arm came over the edge of the bed and hung there, dangling, fingers wiggling, he drew the phone within reach and picked it up.


    His soft brown eyes lingered on the face of the phone.  ¡®How many now?¡¯  He wondered.  [Seven Missed Calls].  ¡®One fewer.  There were eight yesterday and twelve the week before.¡¯  He realized, and with an indifferent shrug, he put the phone on the floor face down so that the glow wouldn¡¯t disturb him while he lay there under covers which he suspected were probably foul smelling by now.


    ¡®I probably stink too¡­¡¯  Charlie thought, but everything was just¡­ too heavy.  He touched his head, it just felt¡­ big but not like there was an ache.


    There was no pain, just¡­ nothing.


    If the phone vibrated at all after that, he didn¡¯t notice.  The sun slowly peeked over the horizon to illuminate the ¡®nest¡¯ of rubbish.  He reached for the remote and found that it too had fallen in the night.


    Charlie¡¯s arm extended even though it was clearly well out of reach, and as he did so, a fly landed on his arm, rubbing its forelegs together for several seconds, and then taking off again.  It landed on his greasy hair, he didn¡¯t bother to brush it away.


    ¡®Probably more anyway.  There¡¯s no point to killing it.¡¯  He thought, and let his arm go slack, he stared at the black screen while light slowly flooded the room.  Last night¡¯s rain had abated, and outside the window birds chirped their mating calls, out of the corner of his eye he caught the first robin of spring¡­ as far as he was concerned, going past his window.  ¡®Nest there, like every year.¡¯  He told himself, and just kept staring at the black, empty screen on power save as if it were the best channel available.


    Only the rumbling of both stomach and bowels at once compelled him to move at last.


    ¡®I killed them.¡¯  The thought hit him as he slung himself out of bed as if iron balls and chains were attached to all four limbs.  He lumbered over the path between himself and the kitchen.  ¡®Toilet still broken¡­¡¯  He recalled when his eye caught the closed door of the bathroom.  He sat on the trashcan and let nature take its course, the foul smell wasn¡¯t unfamiliar, and between ¡®that¡¯ and the rest of the garbage, it was getting perilously close to the edge.  He reached for the last of his paper towels, tore a few off, wiped his ass, and tossed them into the waist high silver can.  He then pulled the yellow plastic strands at the side, sealed the bag, and after removing the bag, he tossed it into a pile with the others.  ¡®The White Mountain has been growing.¡¯  He looked at the pile of bags in the corner.


    And didn¡¯t care.


    He opened the refrigerator and sorted through the array of condiments and dwindling supplies of any actual sustenance.  A can of whipped cream caught his eye, he reached for it and trudged back to bed.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    He fell ¡®toward¡¯ the mattress more than he sat, scooping up the remote along the way, he turned on his television and slowly flipped through ¡®continue watching¡¯.  Charlie wasn¡¯t sure what he selected, nor did he care.


    The phone buzzed again.  ¡®Not work, they stopped calling.  I¡¯m probably fired.  If they knew what I¡¯d done, I¡¯m sure I wouldn¡¯t be here.  I¡¯d be locked up somewhere.¡¯  Charlie ignored the buzz that told him a call was incoming and instead pressed the nozzle on the whipped cream can while holding it up to his open mouth.


    The sloshing-like hiss of the gas propellent within prompted a spray of white to sail into his mouth.  He kept his jaw wide open until his mouth was full, then he closed his lips, swallowed, and repeated the process.


    Six times he did it, then on the seventh time¡­ just a futile hiss and there was no more.


    He dropped the can from his hand and let it roll over the floor, ¡®How did it come to this?¡¯  Charlie asked as he thought back to the moment when everything went wrong.  ¡®How did ¡®I¡¯ become the man to ruin everything?  I didn¡¯t want that.  I just wanted to study, I just wanted to learn, I just wanted¡­ well, I didn¡¯t want to be this either, did I?¡¯  He touched his growing belly that was increasingly going to fat, then ran a hand through the unshaven, uncared for beard on his face.


    Everything was wrong.  The only thing he felt, if anything, was wrong.  His clammy, sticky, and unwashed skin was a prison from which there was no escape.


    ¡®I wonder if my family called.¡¯  The thought wasn¡¯t a question, a question might have led to picking up the phone, but Charlie didn¡¯t feel like doing that.


    He wanted to cry, thinking about those he knew who had no idea he had destroyed their lives, but even that comfort, that catharsis, was denied to him.  Charlie Manning was a lump, and knew it.


    The memory stirred of watching a man reach out to fix a propeller.  A workman, he was large, strong, broad shouldered and wearing green coveralls.  Laughing and joking with the others, he stuck his hand inside without realizing the machine wasn¡¯t unplugged¡­


    Then his hand was gone and the worker held only a bloody stump at the end of his arm, and yet, what Charlie remembered more than the blood on that clear summer¡¯s day was that the one to lose a hand just ¡®stared¡¯ at the stump.  As if confused about just where his hand had gone and why it was missing.


    Spectators screamed, one fainted, but the now one handed man waited with quiet calm while the industrial strength machine was unplugged again and stopped.  He then grabbed the fallen hand from just beyond the blades and said, ¡®I¡¯m going to the infirmary.¡¯


    ¡®I thought he was the toughest man I¡¯d ever seen¡­ how do you not scream at that?¡¯  Charlie asked rhetorically, recalling the answer learned later.  ¡®Shock.  He¡¯d gone into shock and so he wasn¡¯t brave in the face of pain, he simply felt none at all.¡¯  A few weeks later the worker was back on the job and his coworkers were making ¡®handyman¡¯ puns without stopping.


    ¡®Is that it?  Am I still in shock?¡¯  Charlie wondered, he caught a glimpse of his freckled face in the reflection of the television when the screen went dark for the rolling of the credits from a movie he hadn¡¯t paid attention to.  His face had certainly lost color and everything seemed unreal.  ¡®Maybe?¡¯  He wondered.


    His stomach growled at him.  ¡®Order in.¡¯  He told himself, and reached down for his phone.


    ¡®Two missed calls since last time.¡¯  He read, and ignored it, swiping his phone he went to the keypad and began scrolling through the names of various establishments.  He called Dominos¡­ the phone rang.  ¡®Closed for the holiday.¡¯  The machine voice told him before rattling off a list of menu items and specials.


    Charlie hung up.  ¡®General Tso¡¯s¡¯ was another on the list.  ¡®Closed for the holiday¡¯ was said to him with a slightly Chinese accent in the voice of the aged immigrant owner.  ¡®The extra spring rolls are always welcome¡­¡¯  The thought came and went while he scrolled through other establishments.


    All closed for Easter.


    ¡°Great.  I have to go out.¡±  Charlie murmured and moved his legs off of the bed again.


    His body was sore from the long time laying still, he stretched and tried not to notice how bad he looked.


    Charlie kicked off the pile of trash from his tracksuit and pulled it on, he didn¡¯t bother with underwear, and when he put on his running shoes, he paid no attention to the socks.


    His wallet was still in the pocket, and he trudged toward the door, forging a new path among the carpet of garbage by kicking it out of the way.  ¡®When was my last time outside of here?¡¯  He asked as he stumbled over a trash bag and fell face first into a stack of plastic bottles and twenty-four pack boxes of soda.  The crash and thud might have disturbed a downstairs neighbor if he had one, as it was, with nobody above or below or on either side of him, Charlie lived more alone than most in the city.  Not even an immediate neighbor in any direction.


    With agonizing slowness he pushed himself up out of the pile, stumbling and flailing a bit until he cleared space for his hands and scattered the pile on either side of himself and stood up.


    On his feet again, Charlie reached the doorway without further instances and put a hand on the brass knob.  Breathing began to come hard and labored as if he were running again, as if he were in a marathon or a tight race, and yet there was no one.  ¡®Just me.  It¡¯s just outside, it¡¯s just outside¡­ I ¡®have¡¯ to go¡­ I have to¡­¡¯  The bed seemed so appealing, and a weight settled over him like a dozen anvils, if he¡¯d been beneath the blanket before, he doubted he could have lifted it.


    But now here was the door.


    The way outside.


    ¡®C¡¯mon¡­ just one turn.¡¯  he told himself.


    ¡®One turn of the knob.¡¯  He begged.


    ¡®Do it.¡¯  He pleaded.


    ¡®Now.¡¯  He prayed, he begged¡­


    His hand slowly turned the knob.


    The telltale click reached his ears as the inner latch went back into its hole.


    ¡®Pull!¡¯  he told himself, recalling a childhood story about ¡®Blue¡¯ the ox of Paul Bunyon and the giant lumberjack¡¯s determined order to test himself against the train.


    ¡®I¡¯m no ¡®Blue¡¯ nor am I Paul Bunyon¡­ but it works here.  Pull, damn you!  Pull!¡¯  He cried out and drew the door back from the frame.  The rattling and crackling of the door against the wall of trash pushed back the tide and opened up the view into the dimly lit hallway with its cheap red carpet and bright red glowing emergency exit sign.


    The stairs were close, Charlie took a deep breath.


    ¡°Just one step.  You can do this.¡±  He told himself, and then with heaving breaths¡­ Charlie Manning stepped beyond the doorframe of his apartment, and out into the hall.

 Chapter Three

    Charlie descended the stairs like a zombie out of one of the movies he used to watch.  What¡¯s more, he knew what he looked like.  His reflection in the glass door at the base of the stairs slowly came into view, like a camera panning upward, he saw his feet, his legs, then, his growing gut and finally his pale, hopeless face.  His disheveled beard and hollow, empty eyes with their constant glassy eyed stare.


    Enough sense remained to check his mail, it was stuffed with bills, the envelopes had been stuffed in for so long that even drawing them out took several tugs, and when he did it was obvious the white papers had permanent crinkles on them.


    One envelope however, did catch his eye.  He flipped the stack over, ¡®Oh right, the credit card¡­ wait, I ordered that¡­ yesterday.  Already?  Wait was that yesterday?  It shouldn¡¯t be here already.¡¯  Charlie reached up and touched his forehead, like a pitcher with too much water, everything felt just overflowing, like things were running away from him as water down the sides.


    With slow, ponderous effort, he tore open the envelope with the little blue card and slipped the plastic into his wallet.  The rest of the mail didn¡¯t matter.  He pressed his hand to the warm glass of the building door and walked outside.  The rest of his mail was thrown immediately into a covered green garbage can, the lid of it flapping back and forth for several seconds behind him.  Without thinking, his mind immediately went to work, ¡®Eight swing cycles before it stops.¡¯


    Charlie didn¡¯t have to look to know he was right.


    The street wasn¡¯t very busy, few cars were ever out at this time of the day except the ones parked.  A few people boarded buses, a few people walked the sidewalk with him.


    ¡®No.¡¯  Charlie said to himself.  ¡®Not with me.  ¡®As¡¯ me.¡¯


    The way they crossed the street when they saw him coming, the doubletakes he got, the leary looks, the whispers he caught from groups that did neither of the other two things told him plenty.  ¡®I¡¯m among them, but I¡¯m not one of them.¡¯


    ¡®They don¡¯t want me here.  Nobody wants me here.  I¡¯m not part of their city that they want to think of.¡¯  It was an unspoken truth that Charlie understood, but largely tried to ignore.


    A bird chirped overhead, he stopped to look up, red crest, as he expected.  And a mate alit beside it, a nest was well under construction.  Twigs were shaping up in a crude circle, and again his calculating mind went to work.  ¡®At current pace assuming they continue to struggle to find materials it will take another five days to finish.¡¯  Past the birds he saw the clouds overhead, ¡®Another rainstorm, typical max construction for a structure of that sort is six days, bad weather and high winds will make it harder.  They¡¯ll be homeless longer.¡¯


    His hand was moving before he thought about it, he reached out to a little branch that grew off of another branch, and snapped it off.  He began breaking it down into smaller twigs that were roughly the same size as the ones chosen by the birds overhead.


    Passersby watched him the way he used to watch crazy homeless people ranting on the street.  ¡®I make no sense.¡¯  Charlie knew it, he could feel it in their eyes.  He ignored it, reached up, and broke off another small branch which he then broke down into tiny twigs the same as the first.


    He then dropped the twigs at the base of the tree, waved to the birds, and went on his way.


    His shuffling gait away from where the birds perched was ignored when he stopped doing what Charlie knew they considered to be just pointlessly crazy.  ¡®They didn¡¯t know what that was for, they didn¡¯t see the birds, they didn¡¯t make the link between my actions and what it would mean for the ones above.  Of course it seemed crazy.¡¯


    His thoughtless walk carried him to the corner store, a once familiar place where he used to buy off-brand versions of Gatorade for his group¡¯s morning runs.  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The Get-n-Go corner store was a fixture in the neighborhood.  The original owner having started it in the years prior to the second world war, it still kept much of the post prohibition and pre-war look.  Now retired, as was the owner¡¯s son, their grandson Josef now ran the place and still worked behind the counter.


    Megacenters, and large grocers moved in years earlier, but nothing could unseat the little corner store with its unusual family and genuinely welcoming atmosphere.  Charlie came through the glass doors and the same bell that had rung for almost a hundred years, rang again.


    Josef looked up from behind the counter.  ¡°Charlie?¡±  Joseph asked with wide azure eyes.  ¡°Charlie?!¡±  He repeated with shock.  ¡°My god man, what happened to you¡­?¡±


    Josef immediately left his spot behind the long counter, flipping up the board that led to the employee side and coming out to greet him.  Josef¡¯s eyes were filled with worry.  ¡°You haven¡¯t been by in weeks or I guess¡­ months now.  What happened, are you alright?¡±  Josef approached and put a hand on Charlie¡¯s shoulder.


    He looked down at Charlie¡¯s haggard face, and Charlie raised his head to meet the eyes of the towering owner.  Big as a bear, cuddly as the teddy variety, Josef¡¯s love of his neighborhood and everyone in it made him a popular man.


    Charlie however, found it all the more unbearable to hear an expression of concern out of an old friend.


    ¡°I figured you had gone off on another one of your trips, doing¡­ whatever you guys do at those institutions¡­ don¡¯t try to explain it to me, I¡¯m too dumb.¡±  Josef flashed pearl white teeth as he mocked himself.


    Charlie snorted, he knew it was the opposite.  ¡®No, you¡¯re the only one I¡¯ve ever met who is smarter than I¡­ you just love your family and neighborhood and legacy more than you like your mind.¡¯  The praise he¡¯d given verbally many times leapt unbidden to the front of his tongue, but he couldn¡¯t pry open his mouth to say it.


    ¡°Sh-Shop.  I need to shop.¡±  Charlie got the words out, and with agonizing slowness he used the back of his hand to brush off Josef¡¯s concerns.  ¡°Just, I need a few things¡­ that¡¯s all.  I.  Won¡¯t.  Be long.¡±  Charlie muttered and went past the big shopkeeper.


    Charlie began going up and down the aisles after snagging a small basket.  Anytime he saw the aisle had people in it, he went to the next one.  Such a ponderous process made his earlier statement about not being long turn into a lie even though all he needed was a few things.


    Cheap chili.


    Cheap trash bags.


    Sugary cereal.


    Crackers.


    If it was cheap and it was slop, Charlie bought it, his only trip past the fruits or vegetables in the back, where the sound of water spraying over the produce and the chill breeze of the air conditioning that kept the product fresh for longer wafted over him, was to avoid people.


    As an added measure, he snagged a few off brand two liters of soda.  It all weighed heavily in the basket, sliding back and forth until he wedged a few cream filled cookie packages into one part of it, sealing the gap and keeping the contents from sliding.


    Every now and again he could feel Josef¡¯s eyes on him, the soft azure irises were as bear-like as the rest of the man, but he couldn¡¯t just stand away from the counter forever.


    Charlie saw a white haired, stooped over, little old lady approach the counter with a few items, and Josef had to leave the spot where he stood and return behind the register.


    With his shopping completed, Charlie made his way in a slow, hopeless shuffle toward the counter.  A few customers began to emerge from their aisles, some of them he recognized, none of them knew him.  Their shocked, disgusted stares were followed by some of them turning their carts around and walking away.  Others simply stepped back, giving him a wide berth.


    ¡®It¡¯s okay that they don¡¯t know me.¡¯  Charlie told himself, ¡®Even I don¡¯t know me.¡¯


    He went on, standing well behind the old woman who shifted about on her feet, whether she saw his reflection in the microwave on the rear wall behind Josef or whether she simply smelled him or felt Charlie¡¯s eyes behind her, she wasn¡¯t comfortable.  She paid without chatting, and left as fast as she could.


    ¡°Sorry, register¡¯s down.¡±  Josef said when Charlie stepped forward.


    ¡°What¡­?¡±  Charlie¡¯s red, cracked eyes tried to grasp what he just heard.


    ¡°I said, sorry, the register is down.¡±  Josef replied.  He tapped the machine connected to the card reader.


    ¡°But-¡±  Charlie pointed to the old woman that was almost out of view, ¡°she paid¡­¡±


    ¡°Yeah, cash, you got cash, Charlie?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡°No¡­ credit card.¡±  Charlie said and hung his head.


    ¡°You are Charlie Manning, right?  You don¡¯t use credit cards¡­ since when¡­?¡±  Josef asked, but Charlie only shrugged.


    ¡°Okay, go on.¡±  Josef said, and Charlie stepped away, leaving the basket behind.


    ¡°Wait, Charlie!¡±  Josef exclaimed, and Charlie stopped to slowly turn around and face the grocer.


    ¡°You forgot your stuff, man.¡±  Josef said with a glowing, warm smile.


    ¡°But¡­ you said¡­¡±  Charlie trailed off when Josef put a broad hand over the edge of the basket and pushed it toward him.  ¡°Just take it, man, and use the basket.  I¡¯ll come by your place with a smartphone and the Square reader attached, you can pay me then.  You¡¯re always good for it.¡±


    Pain like a knife to the gut ran through Charlie¡¯s whole body at his friend¡¯s words.  Charlie shut his eyes tight so as to reveal none of what he felt, and took the basket, hefting it in one hand, he murmured, ¡°Thanks, Josef.¡±  Then slowly took himself out.


    Josef watched as Charlie headed back the way he came.


    When Charlie was gone, another customer stepped up, a man in a crisp three piece suit.  ¡°Sorry, did I hear you say your credit reader was down?¡±  The slender businessman asked.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s fine, let me see your card.¡±  Josef replied and the telltale noise of the receipt being printed off rang out a moment later.  ¡°Thank you, and come again.¡±  He gave a smile and a wave to the customer, then went on about the rest of his day.

 Chapter Four

    On the way back home, Charlie heard the first rumblings of another rainstorm ahead, ¡®Maybe I should walk slower, get a shower without having to ¡®do¡¯ anything.¡¯  He told himself, it was as close to a joke and laughter as he¡¯d come to in weeks.


    Up ahead, Charlie saw what he hoped.  The robin was going up and down from the pile of twigs that Charlie had made earlier and the nest was rapidly taking shape.  ¡®Previous estimate, two days beyond common maximum, present based on presence of large quantities of materials and preexisting progress, completion by end of day.  They might just beat the storm if it holds off a few more hours.¡¯


    It was enough for Charlie to stop at a red brick wall a few feet from the tree and simply watch while the bird worked.  ¡®It has no idea I¡¯ve probably killed it too.  It¡¯s just going about its business, living its life, building a nest and ready to mate and have eggs and has no idea what¡¯s happening.  I can¡¯t tell people the truth.  If I could tell that bird, what would I do but deprive it of its happiness.  Look at what knowing the truth has done to me.¡¯


    ¡®Bad enough I had to ruin everything, I have to ruin the last days too?¡¯  Charlie asked himself, his eyes drifting up and down from the ground to the growing nest, watching it like it was a timelapse photography show.


    The rumbling of the sky drew closer, and Charlie took his eyes off the birds to look up at the sky, the clouds were coming faster, or so it seemed.  But he knew that was just an optical illusion.  ¡®The wind hasn¡¯t sped up, that means the pace is the same, just perspective making it seem faster as it draws closer.¡¯


    He swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat when the bird nest was nearly complete and the chirping began in earnest.


    ¡®My tree.  My tree.  My tree.¡¯  He knew that was more or less what the bird was indicating, hardly a song of love and devotion as the poets once insisted, but it was beautiful to the ear anyway.


    Too much so.


    So much so it hurt to listen to, knowing it would end.


    And as if it was a scourge on his back, it forced Charlie to walk on, carrying a basket that seemed heavier with every step until he trudged up the two flights of stairs again.  His footfalls rang off the hollow walkway in a steady, constant slapping sound, his hand on the rail pulling Charlie farther and farther along until he reached the floor on which he lived.


    He shoved the key into the lock by reflex and found it wouldn¡¯t turn.  He frowned, he tried again.  It wouldn¡¯t turn.


    He tried the knob.


    It turned.


    ¡°Oh.  Right.  I didn¡¯t lock it.¡±  Charlie muttered and swung the door open.


    He entered the room and trudged toward his bed, the door slowly swung shut behind him, the basket slapped the floor hard when it slipped from his fingers, and at the same moment he allowed himself to fall into his bed.  ¡®I should put the groceries away.¡¯


    Charlie told himself, but didn¡¯t.


    His stomach told him he should eat.


    If the basket hadn¡¯t been within reach, he would have ignored that too.


    His fumbling fingers found a can of chili with a pop-top, he peeled away the tin lid and threw it ¡®somewhere¡¯ into the carpet of garbage and then tilted the can toward his mouth.


    The substance wasn¡¯t a liquid, and so didn¡¯t pour, and it was also tightly packed to the point where it sealed itself into place, almost ¡®congealed¡¯.  The red and white can held promise of a hearty meal, but the brown mush with brown beans was more like a paste than a meal.


    Charlie stuck his tongue out, poking, licking at the contents to try to dislodge them.


    His free hand was working the remote without looking, and a few seconds later he was listening to a terrible movie about a boy who bent air.  ¡®What a stupid movie.  He could end any fight instantly just by removing air from the lungs, there¡¯s just no fight to be had there.¡¯  Still, he dropped the remote and poked a dirty finger into the mush within the can.


    He caught sight of dark lines just beneath his fingernails, and those were now very long, uncut, and uncleaned since the day of his disaster.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    But the nails were useful, he scraped some of the room temperature mush out onto a finger and stuck it into his mouth.


    After Charlie did this a few times, the chili began to dislodge and slide out of the can when he tilted it toward his mouth again, bits of bean and chunks of preserved meat fell over his tongue and was quickly swallowed.


    The single serving can dropped bits and pieces into his beard, some of which bounced away onto his blanket and bare mattress.  Outside, the storm began to pour again, and when he was done, Charlie tossed the can aside.


    His thoughts turned back to Josef, to the coming end, to the birds, and to their end, to those who looked at him with disgust¡­ for all the wrong reasons, and their ends.


    Charlie could no longer rise or move, he simply lay staring at nothing, his whole body weighed down, the sound of rain began to strike the walls and window outside.


    He saw nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing, for a long time after the rains began.


    It was the feel of a hand shaking his shoulder that finally caused him to stir.


    ¡°Hey!  Charlie!  Charlie, man are you alright?!¡±  The voice shouted.


    ¡®I know that voice.¡¯  Charlie thought and his eyes began to flit open.


    ¡°Oh¡­ sorry¡­ ah, yes, I¡¯m alright.¡±  Charlie said when he saw the sharp featured tan face of Josef.  ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I fell asleep, I forgot you were coming by tonight to get your money¡­ here, let me get my wallet out and I¡¯ll pay you.¡±


    ¡°Charlie¡­ my man, buddy¡­ guy¡­ it¡¯s not evening anymore, it¡¯s not even the same day.¡±  Josef said and crouched down beside the bed where Charlie lay with his hand wiggling through his pocket for the brown leather wallet.


    ¡°Oh, sorry, I must have slept through the night¡­ I hope I didn¡¯t take you from your shop during work hours¡­¡±  Charlie muttered.


    ¡°Charlie,¡± Josef said and shook his head, his hand hadn¡¯t left Charlie¡¯s shoulder, and it squeezed enough to get the shell of a human¡¯s attention more clearly.


    ¡°I¡¯ve come by every day for the last week.  It¡¯s Sunday now.  Get-n-Go isn¡¯t going to be open until this afternoon.¡±  Josef replied, and Charlie stared dumbly at him.


    ¡°Then how come¡­¡±  Charlie started to deny it, but then the way the soft brown eyes looked at him at the same level, struck something in his soul.  He looked down, the basket was where he left it, but it was all but empty.


    The soda bottles were scattered in the path he had previously made to the kitchen, and adding to that, so were most of the cheap slop canned materials Charlie vaguely recalled buying.


    ¡°I- no, I didn¡¯t sleep¡­ I must have eaten¡­¡±  Charlie muttered and lay back down, putting his hand on his forehead, ¡°It¡¯s really been a week, Josef?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, Charlie.  A whole damn week¡­ I kept coming by, I¡¯d knock, but you didn¡¯t answer.  I didn¡¯t notice at first but then I saw your key was in the lock, I figured you just went out for a bit, but today I-¡± Josef stopped and pulled the key out of his back pocket and set it on the corner square of the bed frame.


    ¡®Josef is lying.  Or, not exactly, lying by omission.  He says he came by every day, I¡¯ll bet he came by a few times per day.¡¯  Charlie thought and asked, ¡°Truth time.  How many visits?¡±


    ¡°Three or four¡­ per day.  If you include the times I had Nate stop by when he didn¡¯t have anything to do.¡±  Josef replied.


    ¡°Nate¡­ oh, the stock boy.¡±  Charlie muttered under his breath.


    ¡°Stock ¡®man¡¯ now, he turned eighteen this year.¡±  Josef¡¯s warm smile was like a punch in the gut.  As was the memory of Nate.


    ¡®Poor kid, jumped by some never-do-wells, left with the mind of a child¡­¡¯  Charlie recalled the story, one of the many people in the neighborhood Josef always watched out for, the never-do-wells were long gone, dead for years, Nate¡¯s condition was their only legacy.


    ¡®What does that make me?¡¯  Charlie asked himself.


    ¡°Listen, Josef¡­ I¡¯m sorry I didn¡¯t pay you when I said¡­ take some extra on the card and call it even, okay?  Let me pay you for your trouble.¡±  Charlie asked when he got his wallet out of his pocket.


    ¡°Screw the money, Charlie.¡±  Josef said and cast his eyes about the ruin of the apartment.  ¡°It¡¯s only money that can be replaced, let me help you.  Tell me what¡¯s going on with you.  The last thing I heard was that you were gone off on some kind of project in the Canary Islands, you disappeared, and now I see you¡¯re back for¡­ how long, when did you return?¡±


    Charlie shrugged, ¡°I- I don¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re back for some amount of time and the next time I see you, you look like an extra from a movie about homeless vampire serial killers or some other god awful Netflix or Hulu original that¡¯ll get cancelled just when it starts to get good.¡±  Josef¡¯s tortured analogy was just enough to make Charlie smile, if not laugh.


    Their contradictory opinions on original shows from streaming services was once a popular argument between the two men.


    ¡°I look that bad, do I?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Oh god no.  You look worse.  When was the last time you bathed?  What happened to your apartment?  You used to be fastidious, I swear, I remember when I tried to set a beer down and you tossed a coaster under it with such perfect timing that my beer glass stopped it on the table.  I¡¯ve never given anybody as many cool points as that¡­ especially after that nerdy cleanliness obsession!¡±


    ¡°Just a matter of calculating the rate of descent versus the necessary force for the toss and the- well, you know.¡±  Charlie said with a shrug.


    ¡°Yeah but I¡¯ve never done it on the fly that way, that was pretty cool, Charlie¡­ pretty damn cool.  So¡­ now explain this?¡±  Josef stood up and held his arms wide out in front of himself as if to encompass the entire apartment.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t the Charlie Manning I grew up with, went to University with, drank with, went on double dates with.  This isn¡¯t¡­ any of the man I know¡­¡±  Josef added, ¡°This just¡­ man this stinks.  You¡¯re funky, your place is funky¡­ where am I supposed to bring girls when I¡¯m not ready for them to meet my old man?¡±


    Charlie could feel the teasing smile beneath the bitter truths.  ¡°Hotel, like a normal person¡­ like you¡¯ve had a date in the last year.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s cold, Charlie, that¡¯s really cold¡­ true.  But¡­ really.¡±  Josef¡¯s whimsical tone vanished and the bear of a man turned around and knelt down beside the bed again.  ¡°Come on, tell me what¡¯s happening, let me help you.¡±


    Charlie took a deep breath through his nose, and the stench of his home and himself hit him like a metric ton of bricks.  ¡®Noses go dead to self smell and environments very quickly, if I¡¯m smelling me now, and this¡­ how can Josef even stand to be here¡­ god, is that why my neighbors left?!¡¯


    It was the first time that question occurred to Charlie, he held his shimmering brown eyes toward the deep set eyes of his oldest friend, a man Charlie knew he¡¯d already killed, even if Josef didn¡¯t know it yet.


    And out of nowhere, before he even realized it was about to happen, Charlie broke down.


    He let out a heartbroken wail, pounding his fist against the stained, ruined mattress that squeaked against every blow, his mourning, grief stricken cries alarmed a bird beyond the window and caused it to take to the air to escape.


    In some ways, Charlie thought, it would have been easier if Josef had simply left him to cry, but the bear of a man did not move from where he knelt, as for what felt like hour upon endless hour, Charlie cried.

 Chapter Five

    For just a moment, Josef thought that Charlie was having a seizure.  But the tears, the heart rending wail¡­ he knew otherwise a fraction of a moment into Charlie¡¯s mournful outcry.  ¡®Oh no¡­ someone died¡­ someone important.¡¯  Josef recognized the state of the man, recalling when his own mother had been killed by a drunk driver because she¡¯d been crossing the street to get medicine for him.


    Josef wanted to tell his friend to calm down, he wanted to give him shit, make a joke, do anything to stop the outpouring of emotion that seemed to have no end.  But instead, he grabbed a chair and batted the old fast food wrappers from the table and just sat down beside Charlie near the head of the bed.


    He waited.


    He waited while Charlie¡¯s screams of loss tore through a throat never meant to make those sounds.


    He waited.


    The pain in Charlie¡¯s throat finally forced a halt to his cries, but the flailing limbs, kicking feet, if it had been a child, it would have been a tantrum.  Charlie flung himself back over and over again.


    But Josef only waited.  ¡®Charlie really let himself go¡­ man if he was at his peak, he could have kept that up for a while.¡¯  Josef thought, recalling the way Charlie pushed himself in college.  The iron jaws clenched in determination, the sweat of his brow, the untiring, fixed look that never wavered from his goal.  ¡®Who did you lose out there¡­?¡¯  It defied explanation, but as things were, he couldn¡¯t ask.  ¡®He¡¯s not ready.¡¯  Josef could tell.


    Charlie felt his breathing begin to slow, though it was still deep gulps of air, a steady choking sort of noise, it was gradually coming back under control.


    ¡°S-Sorry about that, Josef.¡±  Charlie said, wiping his eyes with the back of his arm.  His eyes stung and were still blurry, but he saw Josef stand up.


    ¡°Nah man, don¡¯t worry about it, ah¡­ stay there, let me grab you something to wipe that off with.¡±  Josef remarked, seeing Charlie¡¯s flushed red face and the bit of snot and tears that threatened to run into his unkempt facial hair.


    ¡°Uh huh.¡±  Charlie said and snorted, hard.


    Josef stepped over the piles that were gradually reclaiming the path to the kitchen.  Tipped over cereal boxes were scattered about, as were empty cans, bottles, and so on.  He reached for the light and flipped it on, immediately he saw scores of roaches run for cover when the lights flickered on.  It remained somewhat dim, he glanced up to see why.  ¡®Lightbulbs, half of them are dead.¡¯  He confirmed, then reached up and tapped the bulb of the overhead fan, nothing happened.  Clearly it was blown out.


    He glanced in the direction of a squeak and saw only the spindly glimpse of a rat¡¯s tail rushing out of sight.


    There were no paper towels to be found.  He cast his eyes around, there were dishtowels in the sink, he reached for one, then stopped and drew his hand back.  The foul smell of piss hit his nose.  ¡®He hasn¡¯t¡­¡¯  Josef told himself, then glanced around the kitchen while he tried to recall where the door should be.  The apartment bathroom allowed access from both sides, but the other side on Charlie¡¯s end was blocked up by a carpet of trash that had obviously grown up over weeks.


    His eyes followed the line of garbage toward the door, and true to his horror¡­ ¡®White trash bags just¡­ all over the place.  By god man where have you¡­ been¡­¡¯  Josef swallowed, and the stench of urine was joined by the newly noticed scent of human waste, it ¡®lingered¡¯ in his mouth as the sense of smell and taste blended.  ¡®I can taste the stink¡­¡¯  The trash can was empty, the sink smelled like piss, the toilet access blocked.  ¡®I will not ask, I can¡¯t handle the truth, I don¡¯t want to know how long he¡¯s been shitting in the trash can.¡¯  Josef promised and, despite his sense of growing dread, made his way toward the room.


    He grabbed tied off white bags and shoved them away, stepping gingerly through the debris, he shuddered when his hand closed on the bag and something ¡®squished¡¯ like wet clay under his grip within the plastic.


    Clearing the door was thankfully easy, if nasty, and he pulled it open, the metallic clink of soda cans and single serving meal cans resounded against one another and scraped over the tile kitchen floor until he reached in and swept his hand up and down the wall for the lightswitch.


    A ¡®click¡¯ noise later and a light came on.  This did nothing to hearten him, ¡®It¡¯s gone unused.¡¯  The smell practically knocked Joseph back just as the thought came to his head, he opened the door wider, then rushed to the kitchen, opened up a series of windows, and watched several birds fly away almost immediately.  He pitied them for the exposure to the stench, and envied their ability to escape it so easily.  ¡®Lucky birds.¡¯  He thought and stuck his head out the window.  He leaned out, allowing stench to wash past him, ¡®I¡¯m burning these clothes after I¡¯m done.¡¯  Josef promised himself.


    ¡°The bathroom is a bit of a mess, it¡¯s been¡­ broken, for¡­ I don¡¯t know how long.  Maybe the day I got back, I guess?¡±  Charlie said from the other room.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    ¡°Right!  Thanks man!¡±  Josef said, looking back of his shoulder and calling out with as much sincerity as he could muster while trying to suppress the urge to vomit.


    He took long, deep breaths before pushing off the window sill and standing back upright again.  The bathroom was a challenge.  The challenge awaited.  ¡®I do not back down from challenges¡­¡¯  It was the sheer absurdity of the thought that helped drive Josef to take the step forward, back towards the stench and foulness within.


    ¡®Josef is a goddamn saint.  How the hell did I get a friend like that¡­?¡¯  Charlie asked himself, minutes later the fermented smell of the open bathroom reached where Charlie lay on his bed, and the sound of rummaging, hasty, almost desperate like someone searching for a first aid kit, reached Charlie¡¯s ears.


    The slamming doors of the cabinet beneath the sink, the opening and closing of the mirror up over it that Charlie hadn¡¯t seen in¡­ ¡®Has it really been months?  How many times have I just ¡®zoned out¡¯ for a week?  What day is it even now?¡¯  He no longer knew, it was the first moment that he realized that he had not noticed the date since his flight home.


    He fell back, pinching his nose shut and breathing through his mouth as little as possible while he tried to recall what he could.


    His heart still ached, it was tight in his chest, throbbing in pain as if it were struggling to endure a fresh stab wound, the weeks and weeks of numbness punctuated with quiet despair left him forced to catch up on everything he¡¯d been unable to feel fully in all that time.


    Charlie squeezed his eyes shut tight against the roiling battle between his guts and his heart, then forced his face to something more neutral, turning his face to the wall as Josef returned to the room.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯re in luck, I found one unopened box in the back corner under your sink.¡±  Josef said and peeled away the top of the box.  The perforated cardboard tore in a series of pops and Josef reached in to pull the ghost white tissues out through the thin plastic lined hole.  ¡°Here, blow, wipe your face, tell me what¡¯s going on buddy.¡±  Josef said in a hushed sort of voice that stirred a vague memory of Charlie¡¯s venture into painting in high school.  The soothing voice of Bob Ross describing how he was putting a tree into place or creating ripples in the water by an old wooden mill on canvas.


    Charlie took the tissue and blew his nose a few times, then casually tossed the tissue away without thinking, indifferent to where it landed in the pile.


    Josef was about to speak, his mouth opened, then closed.


    Silence except for the sound of a rustling in the kitchen.


    ¡°I think you¡¯ve got a rat, or a mouse, or something.¡±  Josef said.


    ¡°Mhmm.¡±  Charlie shrugged.


    ¡°Charlie¡­ let me help you?  This isn¡¯t you man.  Something is going on¡­ are you depressed or something?  Is work going alright?  What happened with your project¡­ are you sick, did somebody die?¡±  Josef ran through the options until Charlie shut his eyes again.


    Even facing away from him, Josef could feel the tension in Charlie¡¯s body.


    ¡®If only I could say¡­¡¯  Charlie thought.


    Instead he said, ¡°Hey¡­ Josef, tell me something.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, man?¡±  Josef asked, leaning forward a little and resting his forearm on his knee.


    ¡°If you had only one day left to live, how would you spend it?¡±  Charlie asked, slowly rolling over on his side so that he was looking up at the gentle giant again.


    Josef thought that over, ¡®I didn¡¯t expect that¡­¡¯  He thought of the question, but then reached up and stroked his chin for a moment.  ¡°I don¡¯t know.  I guess¡­ if I knew I was going to die the next day, I¡¯d call everybody I loved that I couldn¡¯t be with and tell them that I loved them.  Then I¡¯d try to be with the friends I¡¯ve got here in the neighborhood and maybe play another game of football or basketball.¡±


    ¡°Join the rest of the world¡­ and your grandfather, and learn to like soccer.¡±  Charlie forced the tease and Josef gave a big toothy grin and a shake of his head.


    ¡°Nope.¡±  Was the big grocer¡¯s succinct reply, along with defiantly crossed arms.


    Charlie laughed at him, and it ached, but he sat up, then stood and stepped around the chair, he winced almost immediately.


    ¡°Gah!¡±  He cursed and yanked his foot back.


    ¡°What happened?¡±  Josef asked when he saw Charlie¡¯s hand go down and his foot come up.


    ¡°I stepped on something sharp and pointy while trying to get around you, big oaf.¡±  Charlie said and bent down, he was careful when reaching under the trash and pulled out another thick piece of blue glass.  ¡°It¡¯s this¡­¡±  He said, holding up the finger length curved, thick painted fragment of a bowl.


    ¡°Need help?¡±  Josef asked, and Charlie shook his head.


    ¡°I can¡­ yeah I can do this.¡±  He replied and took the bowl fragment into the kitchen, he set it down by its mate where it landed with a delicate ¡®think¡¯ noise.  Then he ran some water into the foul smelling sink and began to clean his foot.  The rushing noise of water echoed off the silver colored metal, and with nothing else for it, he wet the sleeve of his tracksuit to wipe down the blood.


    ¡°If you say so.  But I don¡¯t mind as long as you¡¯re not expecting another foot massage.¡±  Josef replied from the main room without looking over his shoulder.


    ¡°That was college, it was to get into the frat, and you volunteered.  Plus there was a lot of alcohol and I was blindfolded.¡±  Charlie excused it¡­ again, prompting another mocking laugh.


    When Josef¡¯s deep rich laughter began to fade, Charlie spoke again from the other room.


    ¡°So¡­ what if it wasn¡¯t you?¡±  Charlie pressed.


    ¡°What do you mean?¡±  Josef furrowed his brow.


    ¡°What if it was someone you knew, what if you knew someone was dying, but maybe¡­ maybe they didn¡¯t know.  Maybe they thought they were going to get better.  Or maybe they didn¡¯t even know they were sick, but you knew there was nothing you could do for them, nothing anyone could do, would you tell them?¡±  Charlie asked, wiping away the blood from his foot using the sleeve of his tracksuit.


    ¡®I should probably find something cleaner¡­¡¯  He told himself, but instead he waited to listen to his friend¡¯s answer.


    From the other room, the sound of Josef¡¯s hand scratching his scalp through the thick head of hair reached Charlie¡¯s ears.  ¡°That¡¯s a thinker.  I guess¡­ I guess it would depend, I don¡¯t know.  I mean I think I probably ¡®should¡¯ tell them so they can choose what to do with their remaining time.  But on the other hand maybe they¡¯re better off with comfort.  I saw a show once where a woman was dying in a hospital after a fire, she thought the rest of her family made it out, but actually she was just the last one to die.  The ones talking to her told her that her family was outside waiting for her.  She died, happy that they were alright.  What good would telling her the truth have done?¡±


    ¡®That¡¯s true¡­¡¯  Charlie thought, ¡°What good would it do¡­?¡±  He asked rhetorically, and at least temporarily made a decision.  ¡®I know I have to think this through further but¡­ for now¡­ he¡¯s right.¡¯  Charlie answered the agonizing question, and as he returned to the main room, Josef renewed the question.


    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s with all that and¡­ all this?  Come on¡­ look, if you don¡¯t want to talk to me, let me get you to somebody who can help you.  This isn¡¯t healthy-¡±  Josef¡¯s worried words were cut off when Charlie answered him.


    ¡°Josef, I¡¯m dying.¡±  Charlie said in blunt terms, leaving off the words, ¡®So are you, and so is the rest of the goddamned world.¡¯

 Chapter Six

    ¡°Charlie¡­¡±  Josef said and slowly trailed off, ¡°I¡¯m so- I¡¯m so sorry¡­ what- what can I say er- can I, should I not¡­ ask what?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d rather not talk about it¡­ some bad things happened, I lost- I lost somebody, then, well now I¡¯m dying.¡±  Charlie replied and sat up in his bed.  ¡°I made a mistake, death¡­ it¡¯s all over, and on top of that I¡¯m dying, dying, going to die and there¡¯s nothing that can be done about it.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±  Josef replied again, his hands falling limp at his sides, he looked down at his friend.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I didn¡¯t want to say anything¡­ about anything.¡±  Charlie hung his head and ran his hand through his sandy hair, he rubbed so rapidly that it scratched at his scalp beneath the unkempt mop that his hair had become.


    Tears sprang to Charlie¡¯s eyes, ¡°I didn¡¯t want anyone to get hurt, I didn¡¯t.  Nothing was supposed to go wrong, it was just¡­ and then¡­¡±


    ¡°Charlie¡­ listen, whatever happened, I mean, they were important to you, I guess, huh?¡±  Josef asked and took a step closer.


    ¡°You have no idea how much so¡­ it feels like I¡¯ve lost everything¡­ or nearly everything, and what¡¯s left I¡¯m going to lose.¡±  Charlie looked up at Josef.  ¡°I shouldn¡¯t lay all this on you.¡±  He said, hung his head, the quiet hung between them, stillness within the room such that even the rat hiding somewhere in the kitchen seemed to have quieted down.


    ¡°But it¡¯s not supposed to be this way!¡±  Charlie roared and slammed his fist back behind him into the plaster wall.  It cracked and a small hole gave way under his angry blow, bits of dirty white and gray dust came down to add to the filth of the already filthy bed.


    Charlie stood up and kicked his foot into a pile, the memory returned to him, a boy, at the beach, kicking into the still waters of a calm sea, a spray of water alight into the air to land with many small splashes in answer to his big one.  The warm sun and swift air the way it grazed his skin, and all the world seemed right and perfect.


    Now, here, his kick at the garbage sea over his apartment floor seemed a mockery of the life he knew, bottles, cans, broken and torn bits of wrappers and little boxes that once held cheap food.  All flew out into the air and landed with little clattering and smacking noises amidst the sea of it all, and came to a standstill.


    ¡°If I had never been born¡­ if I¡­¡±  Charlie muttered, but didn¡¯t finish the sentence.


    ¡°Charlie¡­ none of that.  It was an accident.  You¡¯d never hurt a fly.¡±  Josef said and put a beefy hand on Charlie¡¯s shoulder.


    Charlie quickly spat out a response, ¡°That doesn¡¯t make the dead less dead now, does it Josef?¡±


    ¡°No.  No I guess it doesn¡¯t.  But if you¡¯d known what would happen, then you wouldn¡¯t have done it, would you have?¡±  Josef asked as reasonably as he could.


    ¡°Of course not!¡±  Charlie shouted and brushed off the hand by slapping away the wrist.  ¡°Of course not!  I¡¯m not a monster!  I never meant for any of that to happen!  Any of this!  Anything!  Nothing!  None of it, I swear!¡±  Charlie balled up his hands into angry fists, ¡°How can you even ask me that?!¡±


    ¡°Rhetorically.¡±  Josef said with a blank face.  ¡°I asked because I already knew the answer, and I was reminding you of that.¡±  Josef didn¡¯t resist when Charlie batted his hand away, though he made a mental note to wash the wrist later as Charlie¡¯s hand was¡­ sticky.


    ¡°Accidents are¡­ look, it¡¯s like getting bitten by a stray dog.¡±  Josef said and scratched the back of his head.


    ¡°What the hell does that mean?¡±  Charlie groused and looked away, his fingers tensed into a fist so tight his knuckles were whitening.


    ¡°You know¡­ you don¡¯t plan for it, can¡¯t predict it, it isn¡¯t really anyone¡¯s fault, but it happens.  Sure the bite still hurts, but there¡¯s really nobody to blame.  It¡¯s just bad luck.¡±  Josef said with a shrug.


    ¡°Right, stray dog¡­¡±  Charlie rolled his eyes, ¡®One hell of a damn dog¡­¡¯  He thought with dry humor in spite of himself.


    ¡°Yeah, like that.¡±  Josef nodded.


    ¡°Remember that girl in college who cheated on you, the one you liked, she met a guy, had a few and hooked up with him?¡±  Charlie asked.


    Josef sighed, ¡°Darlene.  Yeah, what about her?¡±


    ¡°Do you think she felt it was like getting bitten by a stray dog when she had the drink, hooked up with the guy, or did you feel that way when you caught her?¡±  Charlie asked.  He turned his eye up to the face of his friend, and winced mentally when he saw the bright azure eyes briefly glass over from the long ago pain.Stolen novel; please report.


    Josef¡¯s shoulders slumped.


    ¡°Sorry, I shouldn¡¯t have lashed out at you that way, you¡¯re just trying to help.  Here¡­¡±  Charlie finally took out his wallet and handed over the credit card from within.  ¡°Charge me whatever is fair and we¡¯ll call it a day¡­ I need¡­ I need to be alone.¡±


    Josef pursed his lips, he took the card in his right hand and drew out his smartphone with his left, swiped the card, then gave it back.


    ¡°Do I need to tip you anything, do I need to sign anything?¡±  Charlie asked, putting away his card and his wallet.


    ¡°No, we¡¯re good.  Why don¡¯t you let me bring you something tomorrow, something decent to eat, you can¡¯t keep eating garbage.¡±  Josef suggested,


    ¡°Or living in it?¡±  Charlie asked when he saw the way Josef looked around the apartment.


    ¡°Right.  Or living in it.¡±  Josef said, ¡°Are you sure you won¡¯t let me just stay and help you get some of this cleaned up?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°I really, really just want to be alone right now.¡±


    ¡°OK¡­ Ok.  If that¡¯s what you want, but I¡¯ll be by tomorrow.¡±  Josef promised, and Charlie nodded with slow reluctance.


    Josef was gone a moment later after stepping carefully to avoid any scattered or toppled waste.


    It felt good to smash things.  That was what Charlie realized very quickly, kicking the trash had been cathartic in a strange sort of way, it incited him to do more.  He kicked some more, his legs weren¡¯t as strong as they had been in the past, but they were good enough.  Bottles, cans, empty lemon pudding cups hurtled toward the wall as if they were siege weapons assaulting a castle wall.


    They bounced away, tumbling down to form new little piles where they landed.  Charlie brought his foot up and spied a bucket from a chicken place, the old man on the front had a smile on his face.  ¡®Mocking me.¡¯  He thought, it was absurd, he knew it was absurd.


    But that didn¡¯t change Charlie Manning¡¯s desire to smash it, break it, and he did.  His foot came down toward the bucket of crumbs and dried grease soaked cardboard that had miraculously survived intact until that moment.


    His foot caught the edge over the old man¡¯s face and the bucket snapped down like a catapult, leaving Charlie¡¯s foot halfway in and the logo face down.  He bared his teeth hatefully at it, then brought his foot up again and began to stomp on it.


    ¡°Stupid¡­ piece¡­ of¡­ garbage!  Stupid!  Worthless!  Stupid trash!¡±  Charlie yelled at nothing, secure in his empty existence, he picked things up and threw them against the wall, a chicken bone cracked audibly, and he felt better for hearing it.


    His blood boiled and rushed through his veins, his pulse raced like he was running again the way he used to, sweat ran from his brow with the effort he was putting into just¡­ even he didn¡¯t know.  ¡®It doesn¡¯t matter!  There¡¯s no point!  None!¡¯  He howled alone in his head, furious at himself, furious at his employers for hiring him and putting him on that project.  Furious at¡­ just everything.  Outside he heard a car horn honk, someone was yelling, tires screeched, and somebody screamed and there was the distant sound of crumpling metal.


    A woman¡¯s voice, high pitched, terrified, then wailing.  ¡®Dead.¡¯  He didn¡¯t know how he knew, but somebody out there was dead.


    ¡®If they only knew.¡¯  He thought, and glanced out the window, he didn¡¯t look toward the noise and sound to see the accident that was already drawing a crowd.  He looked toward the sky.  ¡®Will that survive us, at least?¡¯  He had no idea.


    Charlie lingered there at the window, guilt and impotent frustration gnawed at him, his fingers twitched until he grabbed his arms and dug his uncut nails so tightly into his skin that he felt the wet, sticky warmth of his own blood.


    The hopeless guilt of his whirlwind of destruction wasn¡¯t gone, not after so little¡­ but the recent numbness in a way, it was desirable now.  ¡®At least then I didn¡¯t notice time passing at all¡­¡¯  Charlie mournfully thought while the sound of a blaring siren in the distance began to grow closer.


    He looked toward the accident at last, bobbing heads, lookie loos, were close by, a four door sedan, gold, was smashed into a street light over the sidewalk.  A child, a girl from what he could tell from her long dress, probably about nine, was holding a woman¡¯s leg.


    ¡®Her mother?¡¯  Charlie wondered in a detached fashion.  ¡®No.¡¯  He realized, the child was white, the woman she was holding was black, and a few feet away, bleeding on the street, was the unmoving body of a woman that was, even from where he stood looking out the window, an older mirror of the girl.  ¡®Even dressed the same.  One of those parents, the ones who like to dress their children like miniature versions of themselves.¡¯  Charlie never liked those types, and seeing a dead one didn¡¯t change that.  Though a sickening sense of pity roiled in his gut and an ache hit his chest that didn¡¯t lightly fade.


    It however, was drowned out immediately by his mind, ¡®Based on the skid marks from here the car was going fifty to fifty-five in a thirty mile per hour zone, the woman crossed with her child.  The driver saw them too late, she yanked her child back but was hit herself.  The driver then swerved, far too late, then went across the street, jumped the sidewalk and hit the telephone pole having only slowed down by ten miles per hour.  Alive or dead?  Alive or dead?¡¯


    ¡®Ninety percent odds of death if they got it down to forty, unless they¡¯re drunk, then their bodies will be relaxed enough to increase the odds of survival.¡¯  Charlie did the math in a moment.


    ¡°Drunk.¡±  He said it out loud.  ¡°Now ¡®that¡¯ sounds like a good idea.¡±


    He left the window, left his apartment after a single reticent moment at the door, ¡®I did it¡­ okay it was a week ago, not that I noticed, but still, I did it.  Fuck this place.¡¯  Charlie¡¯s desperate sorrow burned, tearing into the tear ducts of his eyes and threatening to start the infantile bawling all over again.  He covered it by rapid, hasty long steps that weren¡¯t quite a run as he descended, almost stomping his way outside.  He put his back to the chaotic accident, going the opposite direction of Josef¡¯s place, he instead hit the nearest liquor store.  ¡®I doubt Josef would sell me anything now anyway.¡¯


    The clear glass windows of the liquor store showed off the high end brands they had available, along with a mix of middle grade brands in bright clear glass bottles that caught the light just right to shine through the liquid and make it almost translucent.


    Clean and orderly, ¡®Good Thymes¡¯ was another neighborhood fixture, started fifty years ago when the father of the current owner closed his restaurant and retired to Florida, the son opened a small private club in the back and set up a liquor store in the front.  One of the only places to get dual licencing, it was a point of pride to get in the back.


    But for now, Charlie only wanted what was out front.  The bell rang and a young college girl looked up with a smile, only to immediately look down.  Charlie looked away himself.  He walked up and down the aisles until he found a bottle of aged Four Roses.  He darted out his hand, snatched it up, and went to the cashier.


    He slapped both the credit card and the bottle down at once.  ¡°Make it quick!¡±  He snapped, and she stepped back with wide eyed shock.  ¡®She¡¯s a pretty, young thing.¡¯  Which only made it more tragic in his eyes, ¡®She¡¯ll never be old.¡¯  Was the kindest thought he could offer, pale skin, and there was a book beside her, a textbook.


    He read it upside down, ¡°Astrophysics: Theory & Practice¡± and his name below, ¡°Charlie Manning¡±.  She was studying his textbook.  Professional pride lingered, she took up the card, looking at him with her best effort to suppress her disgust at his stench and disheveled appearance, and fear that he might be an actual criminal.


    She ran the card, and he couldn¡¯t resist the urge to say something.  ¡°Astrophysics¡­ dangerous subject, that one.¡±


    She gave a numb little nod and slid the card back over to him across the counter rather than simply handing it back.


    He took it, avoiding her touch, then with his bottle in a brown paper bag that crumpled when he grabbed the upper half, he left to go back home, as eager for numbness as a child on Christmas Eve.

 Chapter Seven

    Charlie was back at his apartment again before he really noticed the passage of time, but he concluded it must have been a fair bit at least.  He based this off of the accident scene he was slowly approaching before he reached his home.  A tow truck was already on site, the debris was cut away, police were directing traffic and taking statements from witnesses.


    The little girl was gone, nearby on a white gurney were three people, another sat on the curb, slumped forward with his hands cuffed behind his back.


    The passenger side door had been cut open by the Jaws of Life.  It hadn¡¯t done any good except for body retrieval.  ¡®Unfortunate.¡¯  Charlie thought with dispassion, distant more in mind than he was in body before he ascended the stairs of his building again.


    He turned the knob on his door and then kicked the door near the base, hard enough that it flew in, carrying a whoosh of air that Charlie felt the force of.  It might have smacked and damaged the wall, but the carpet of rubbish was thick enough that it stopped the momentum and the door rebounded.


    Charlie didn¡¯t put up a hand to stop it, without even thinking about it, he knew that there was insufficient momentum to allow the door to come close enough to hit him.


    He stepped past, turned around, kicked the door again, ¡®thus adding energy to the closed system¡¯ as he put it, and slamming it shut with a thunderous clap before returning to his bed.


    He removed the liquor from the bag, balled up the paper, threw it somewhere into some pile without looking, and then peeled off the wrap around the black cap.


    The crinkled noise was silenced from the practiced peeling and he tossed it somewhere amidst the rubbish, flopped himself down on the mattress, letting it squeak and bounce him a few times before removing the cap.


    ¡°Fuck everything.  Fuck me.  Fuck this world.  Maybe the universe is better off if we¡¯re all fucking dead.  Maybe I should be credited instead of blamed.¡±  Charlie griped, tossed the cap away at random and brought the smooth clear glass to his lips.  He then tilted his head back and let the smooth familiar liquid flow over his tongue and down his throat to burn in his gut.


    ¡®When was the last time I drank like this?¡¯  Charlie asked himself on his sixth gulp.


    The burn was like an old friend that had been away from home and came back unexpectedly.  The cool smoothness of the unyielding glass bottle in his grip, the silky softness of the flowing fiery stuff with its subtle undertones and the nuances of flavor that only a true bourbon connoisseur could properly appreciate.  It was a favorite brand for a reason.


    He set the bottle down on the small table that held his laptop, the etched roses were still colored with the liquid behind it.  ¡°Ahhhh!¡±  Charlie sighed and wiped his lips while the warmth ran through his body.  ¡°I¡¯ll drink past the roses soon enough¡­¡±  He said, looking at the clear glass etching.


    He smacked his lips and grabbed the bottle again, for several moments the gulping was the only noise in the apartment other than the whirring of his computer¡¯s hard drive.


    When he slapped the bottle down again, he didn¡¯t let go.  ¡°How the fuck did this happen?  How the fuck was it me?!¡±  The sirens kicked up outside.  ¡®I wonder if they took the little girl?¡¯


    It was a passing thought of pity before his own burning anger flared up again, and every time it flared, every time it burned, every time it yelled at him like an angry parent¡­ Charlie drank again, until the bottle slipped from his fingers with only one brown drop remaining to testify to the contents.


    The sturdy glass didn¡¯t shatter, it hit the corner and wobbled a few times before coming to a quiet stop.


    Charlie however, heard none of it.  He fell back, the world spun around him.  It was like being on the roundabout as a child again.  ¡°Faster¡­ faster¡­ faster¡­¡±  Charlie muttered his fumbling hand grabbed the headboard of the bed.  ¡°Come on dad¡­ faster¡­¡±  He mumbled, and then finally he passed out completely.


    He woke up with someone pounding on his back, the heavy thudding blows came hard, the noise of the blows were like the pounding of a steady wardrum, but not as loud or as bad as the pounding in his head.


    Then it hit.  The dreaded ¡®gulp¡¯ noise that came with briefly puffed out chipmunk cheeks.  The one sign that foretold vomiting and warned anyone in front to get the hell out of the way.


    ¡°Bleuegh!¡±  It wasn¡¯t a word, it wasn¡¯t spoken to the person pounding on his back, it was a violent expulsion of remaining liquor and bits of undigested and partially digested brown slop.


    Drool and spittle dripped down Charlie¡¯s lips as he leaned forward staring down at the now vomit stained shoes of himself and whoever was with him at the moment.


    His unkempt beard caught some of the chunks and some of the spittle, and Charlie let out little ¡®pew¡¯ noises of half spitting, half just ¡®blowing¡¯ to get rid of the spittle.


    ¡°Gwah¡­¡±  He mumbled and looked down at the vomit covered shoes of both himself and the person in front of him.  ¡°Sorry¡­ really.¡±  Charlie mumbled.


    ¡°Meh, they¡¯ll wash clean.¡±  Josef said with a good natured shrug that Charlie couldn¡¯t see, but definitely felt when it changed the pace of the hand slapping his back.


    ¡°Drinking again, yeah?¡±  Josef asked, looking down at the bottle.


    ¡°No.  I finished the bottle.¡±  Charlie replied with a bitter smile.


    Josef gave a very mild, ¡°Heh¡­ good one¡­¡±


    ¡°So was the bottle.¡±  Charlie said, resting his forearms on his knees and still looking down.


    ¡°You always did have good taste.  But you shouldn¡¯t drink so much, you¡¯re not twenty-three anymore.¡±  Josef replied in an even voice that, had it been a different tone, might have sparked an angry outburst.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Instead Charlie only felt the burning in his gut.  Anger at everything.  Anger at nothing, anger at what was coming, anger at himself.  Anger that death was a thing at all.


    Anger at the universe he used to love.


    It was night outside, he realized when he looked at the window out of the corner of his eye, ¡°You didn¡¯t have to come by this late.¡±  Charlie said to break the silence.


    ¡°What time do you think it is?¡±  Josef asked and Charlie answered immediately.


    ¡°It¡¯s eleven at night, the clock is right there.¡±  Charlie raised a hand and pointed to the end table close by.


    ¡°Right¡­ Well, I just finished work, it took some time to work out those numbers.¡±  Josef muttered.  ¡°Anyway, I brought some food, you need to eat something.  And you can¡¯t keep living in this filth or this will kill you before any disease does.¡±


    ¡°I know.  God damn it, Josef!  I know.  I know, alright?  I just¡­ I don¡¯t care.  What¡¯s the point?!  I¡¯m dead, what I¡­ lost, what I did¡­ it didn¡¯t have to go the way it did and now it has and there¡¯s no undoing it!¡±  Charlie brought his hands up and slammed his head down into his palms, the stinging tears and frustration tore at him without any hint of mercy for the soul of the man.


    ¡°What am I supposed to do?!  Just¡­ keep on?!  This sucks.  I hate it¡­ I¡¯m not just going to get over this¡­ that isn¡¯t how this works.  So what if it kills me to live in filth?!¡±  Charlie shouted, and the massive hand of the gentle giant drew away.


    ¡°You can¡¯t punish yourself forever¡­ whatever happened, happened, man.  Do you think you¡¯re going to make anything any better doing,¡± Josef stopped, then bent over and picked up the bottle of Four Roses where it lay on its side, then brought the lip of the bottle to his mouth and tilted it toward himself, pantomiming drinking, ¡°this?¡±


    ¡°Do you think that¡¯s going to help?¡±  Josef asked and tossed the bottle away from them both with the last drop dripping down into an old brown pizza box.


    ¡°No.¡±  Charlie grumbled.  ¡°But I don¡¯t feel any guilt when I¡¯m passed out.  I don¡¯t feel sad when I¡¯m dreaming.  I don¡¯t feel anything.  And that¡¯s something.¡±


    Josef¡¯s shoulders slumped a bit, ¡°I guess not, I guess that¡¯s true.  But¡­ that¡¯s not getting any better.¡±


    ¡°Josef¡­ if I¡­ if I did something to hurt you, like if I accidentally poisoned you and you knew you were going to die¡­ What would you want to happen to me?  What should happen to me?¡±  Charlie asked and craned his neck to look up at the gentle azure eyes that briefly blinked in confusion.


    ¡°I¡¯d probably be kinda pissed off, I guess.¡±  Josef said with a laugh, ¡°But if I was screwed, if I was going to die and there wasn¡¯t a damn thing I could do about it, I¡¯d ask you to tell me a joke or something.  Who wants to die miserable, afraid, and angry.  You¡¯re my oldest friend, and you¡¯d be there¡­ Okay, yeah.  Its your fault, but not many people get to say goodbye to their best friends when they die.  And not many people know they¡¯ve got a chance to die laughing.  I guess if you poisoned me, it was in the food.  So I¡¯d probably praise your cooking too.¡±


    ¡°I cook pretty well, so I expect so.¡±  Charlie gave a weak smile up at Josef.


    ¡°So¡­ yeah.  I¡¯d thank you for the good meal, good times, and ask for a joke on my way out so I can die laughing the way I wanted.  I might not get old, but hey, nobody knows when they¡¯re going to die, and I¡¯ve had a good run.¡±  Josef replied and looked out the window, ¡°I saw that accident out there, you know.¡±  He jerked his thumb toward the window.


    ¡°Oh, you did?  What happened.¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°The lady came into my shop, she¡¯s not a regular like you were, abandoner,¡± Josef winked at Charlie with a playful smile to show he was teasing, prompting a ¡°hmpf¡± noise before Josef went on, ¡°but she came in a lot.  She bought a few of our specialty items, some of the candies we make on site, including one for her kid.  She said she had some big party coming up.  Something important.  I just happened to glance out the window of the shop in time to see her yank her kid back.  I called emergency services of course.  But you know¡­ don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, if you saw it, you did the math before she hit the ground, didn¡¯t you?¡±  Charlie asked.


    Josef nodded, ¡°Everything going her way, then she was gone.  The girl stayed in my shop for a little while before her father came and picked her up.  It¡¯s a shame, she didn¡¯t get to say goodbye or anything, neither of them did.¡±


    ¡°I guess what I¡¯m saying, I don¡¯t have a perfect answer, I honestly don¡¯t know how I¡¯d react, but I know how I¡¯d want to react.  I don¡¯t want to die, but if I¡¯ve got to, I want it to be while laughing and with the people I like most.  I don¡¯t have a wife, no kids, that¡¯s not going to happen while my dad is still living with me, and that¡¯s okay.  So¡­ a good meal, a full stomach, a warm house, a last joke¡­ and no old age to bother me, every problem over¡­ that¡¯s how I want it to be.  The only downside is that it would be earlier than I want it to be.  That make any sense, Charlie?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah it does.¡±  Charlie squeezed his eyes shut tight again, and Josef took the moment to go to the kitchen and hold up a white plastic bag from his shop.


    ¡°I brought you this, and enough for me.  I guess it¡¯s a little late to start cleaning up now¡­ unfortunately.¡±  Josef crinkled his pudgy wide nose, ¡°But at least let¡¯s get some food in you that doesn¡¯t come out of a can.¡±  Josef said and turned on the sink.  ¡°Where are your bowls?¡±  He asked and opened the cabinet beside the refrigerator and found it bare.


    ¡°Ah, dishwasher¡­ but I wouldn¡¯t open that if I were you.¡±  Charlie replied while looking through the wide entry that led into the kitchen.  Though the dishwasher and sink were out of view from where he sat, he knew Josef well enough to be certain that the man probably wouldn¡¯t listen.


    A moment later Charlie was proven right.  ¡°Yeagh!¡±  Josef¡¯s voice of shock and the sound of the dishwasher slamming closed carried clear into the other room.


    ¡°I told you not to do that.¡±  Charlie called out.


    ¡°No you didn¡¯t!¡±  Josef shouted back good naturedly.


    ¡°I definitely did!¡±  Charlie shouted back.


    ¡°Nope!¡±  Josef started shouting in return while the sink ran on, ¡°I heard you loud and clear.  You said, and I quote, ¡®I wouldn¡¯t open that if I were you.¡¯ however, I am not you and you are not me.  So if you were me and I were you, I¡¯d use your body to open the dishwasher.  You can¡¯t stop me no matter who you are!¡±


    ¡°Alright, Ace Ventura¡­ Jesus, always with the movie references.¡±  Charlie shouted back.  In spite of himself, he had to smile a little.  A little.


    ¡°Okay, I¡¯ve handled worse, much worse.¡±  Josef said from the kitchen, ¡°just stay there.¡±


    Charlie didn¡¯t say anything, he reached down to the floor and picked up his phone, off the charger for as long as it was, the damn thing was quite dead, so he fumbled around for the little white cable and plugged it in.


    He then turned on the computer when the little lightning symbol came on the screen to show that the phone was charging.  The computer was on power save mode, so it came up almost immediately.


    He immediately hit google and started searching for various terms.


    ¡°The world is doomed¡±


    ¡°We are all fucked¡±


    ¡°End of the World?¡±


    ¡°Countdown to doomsday¡±


    And so on.  ¡®Other than some edgelord teenagers, incel groups, and the usual apocalyptic religious stuff, nothing.  So nobody knows.¡¯  Charlie thought and closed the laptop after a few minutes searching.


    Just as the little latch clicked into the closed position, Josef emerged from the kitchen holding a bowl.


    ¡°Seriously, you washed one of those?¡±  Charlie looked at the bowl in askance, as if Josef was quite insane to have touched it.


    ¡°No, you can eat the filth.¡±  Josef rolled his eyes, ¡°Of course I washed it, you remember how to wash dishes, don¡¯t you?  We worked in the same kitchen, it can¡¯t have been that long.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, it has kinda been that long but¡­ fine.  Thank you.¡±  Charlie said and took the bowl, the contents were simple, just a salad of fresh greens, bacon bits, croutons, and some garlic vinaigrette dressing, along with black and green olives.  Hardly a meal except that it was piled high.


    A fork stuck out from the bowl and Charlie picked it up, it was plastic.


    ¡°You had some unopened plasticware lying around¡­ everywhere, kind of.¡±  Josef acknowledged, ¡°I¡¯ll wash a dish but¡­ c¡¯mon, really?¡±


    Charlie flushed in the face, ¡°Fair enough, I¡¯d be a dick to even expect that you do this much, really, thanks man.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to thank me, if the positions were reversed, what would you do?¡±  Josef asked.


    At that question, Charlie was quiet, pensive, ¡®I don¡¯t even know what I¡¯d want, let alone what I¡¯d do.¡¯  He thought, and ate in silence with Josef standing by as the salad slowly vanished from the bowl to fill an empty stomach.  The only sound was the tines of the fork against the glass bowl and the tearing of the points through the lettuce leaves.  They crunched between his teeth and the flavor ¡®popped¡¯ on his tongue before he swallowed each steady bite.


    When it was finally nearly finished, Charlie wasn¡¯t sure if it was the company, the food, or something else but, ¡®At least this time,¡¯ he realized, ¡®the meal doesn¡¯t taste like ashes.¡¯

 Chapter Eight

    When Josef left after the meal was finished, Charlie went into the kitchen and set his bowl into the sink.  ¡°Only one bowl¡­ he didn¡¯t have anything?¡±  Charlie asked the dimly lit kitchen as if the empty room would answer.  The plastic bag lay on the little ¡®island¡¯ in the kitchen and it clearly had a few more things in it.  He took a look, rustling the bag, and found a small bag of banana chips and trail mix.


    Charlie snorted, ¡°Left me a snack, did you?  What a guy.¡±  He muttered and went back to fall into bed.


    The next few days came and went like that, with Charlie slapping the alarm and checking his phone.  Every other day, it seemed, there were fewer and fewer missed calls, then fewer and fewer new unread texts.  Voicemail filled up some time before and he never cleared it out.  But the truth was obvious.


    ¡®I¡¯m fading from their lives.  They¡¯re giving up on me.  Charlie thought with neither a tear shed nor a curse uttered.


    Each evening, Josef came by with a little something to eat, and ate nothing himself while the two traded stories of their time growing up.


    On and on, Josef let him talk.  Sometimes Charlie hung his head.  Sometimes Charlie raised it to look outside and up at the stars that he¡¯d watched since they¡¯d been kids.


    ¡°Josef¡­ say you did something¡­ bad.  Accidental, but bad, I don¡¯t know¡­ maybe you put on the Infinity Gauntlet, had a good idea, and snapped your fingers¡­ but it has a delayed effect, and everybody in the city is going to die.  Do you tell them?¡±  Charlie asked, and Josef gave it a moment¡¯s thought.


    ¡°That¡¯s a¡­ very¡­ oddly specific example there, Charlie.¡±  Josef thought it over, running his hands through his thick head of hair, ¡°I guess¡­ I wouldn¡¯t.  I mean if there¡¯s no getting away from it, what¡¯s the point?  If I can¡¯t just snap my fingers again and undo it, well what would happen?  Say they¡¯ve got a few hours, there¡¯s no time to do much and a lot of people would just kill themselves.  Say it was more, a few days, weeks, or months¡­ stuff still needs to happen, you know?  I mean the city still needs power, mail still needs to be delivered, people still have a life¡­ ¡®life¡¯ get me?  If they¡¯ve got that right around the corner they¡¯ll probably just give up right then.  Take away tomorrow, and to some people they¡¯re dead that same day.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, but¡­ wouldn¡¯t some people like the chance to live life to the fullest, maybe make amends for anything they did wrong?¡±  Charlie asked, and then asked himself, ¡®Why am I even asking¡­ if I want to tell them, if I want to tell ¡®him¡¯ I can.¡¯


    ¡°Nah,¡± Josef said with a smirk, ¡°Most big life plans take you away from wherever you are, if they don¡¯t, you¡¯re already living em, or you might as well not have em because you¡¯re not working at it anyway.  What¡¯s the point?  Any sorries to be said should be said when you know you¡¯ve got em to say.  What¡¯s the point of waiting until you¡¯re all going to die except to avoid feeling bad about it.  That¡¯s just compiling one bad on top of another.¡±


    Charlie thought that over.  ¡°You¡¯re right.  I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry, Josef, really.  About dragging you out here every day, about keeping you up this late when you¡¯ve got to work¡­ about,¡± Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat, ¡®about killing you, I¡¯m sorry I¡¯ve killed you and you don¡¯t know it.  I¡¯m sorry I¡¯m such a goddamn coward, sorry I made a big goddamn mistake,¡¯  he thought, but said instead, ¡°I¡¯m just, I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Josef stood up ¡°You really want to apologize, do me a favor.  Take a shower.  Brush your teeth, and maybe at ¡®least¡¯ clean up the space around where my chair is.  Do that for me, and we¡¯ll call it even.¡±


    ¡°Sure but,¡± Charlie reached for his wallet, ¡°what do I owe you for today¡¯s delivery, and the last¡­ whatever it¡¯s been since you started coming by?¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t bring my phone or the app to charge you, just throw out the garbage bags that you¡¯ve been shitting in, leave a window open, and again, we¡¯ll call it even.¡±  Josef promised and held out his hand.


    Charlie grabbed it in a firm shake, he almost winced, Josef¡¯s grip was powerful, but clearly restrained, the handshake fell away, and Charlie added, ¡°I¡¯ll get on it tomorrow, I¡¯m worn out right now.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing, and if you need help¡­¡±  Josef didn¡¯t finish the sentence, he didn¡¯t need to.


    He ducked under the doorframe and shut it behind him, leaving Charlie alone but for the dim light of the lamp a few feet away.


    Despite what he¡¯d said to Josef a moment ago, Charlie¡¯s mood was in fact, rankled.  He began to scowl.  ¡®A good man like that shouldn¡¯t die like this¡­  How the hell does this happen?!¡¯


    Charlie went and opened up each of the windows, then poked his head out of the one close to his bed, as luck would have it, the dumpster outside was open and empty.  It wasn¡¯t much, but he picked up what he promised.  Three bags went out the window and crashed in the quiet darkness, thudding into the wide green dumpster that was only slightly illuminated by the streetlight nearby.


    It wasn¡¯t much.  But there was a small space from his bed to the chair where Josef sat a little while ago, and then he went into the kitchen, took two bags in each hand, and hauled them to the same window.  He dropped them outside one by one,  and then returned to get four more.  Charlie made seven trips back and forth before everything that might have contained human waste was removed.


    Every time he tossed a bag outside however¡­ he only got madder.  Every time Charlie thought about the impending end for the man who sat with him in this stink, filth and trash, who took pity on a friend he thought was dying¡­ resentment grew toward others who had a hand in the world¡¯s destruction.


    His scowl got deeper, his pulse raced faster.  When he finally finished and the last white bag landed with a brittle crash that could only have been bottles of who knew what, all Charlie wanted was to let loose ¡®something¡¯.


    He took off his shoes, but looking at the bed, just as he touched the tracksuit zipper, he changed his mind.  Then a flash of anger, white hot and painful hit his mind all at once and he brought his bare foot up to stomp the floor the way he¡¯d stomped the fried chicken bucket the day before¡­ and howled as pain lanced through the sole of his foot.


    ¡°Goddamnit!¡±  Charlie yowled and hopped up and down, his other foot thudding and thumping on the floor until he fell backwards cursing up a storm.  ¡°Motherfucker¡­ that hurt!¡±  He hissed and brought his foot up.  He set it on one knee, which ached a little as his weight and recent inactivity was leading him to get fat, and looked down at the place the dim lamplight illuminated for him.


    A blue shard stuck out a little.  ¡°Another one?!¡±  He cursed, and with a trembling hand, he took hold of it.  ¡°One.¡±  He hissed.  ¡°Two.¡±  He spoke through clenched teeth.  ¡°Three!¡±  He growled with his muscles and body heaving, and yanked the glass out.  A stream of expletives followed as the glass came free, and with it out, he then hobbled to the kitchen with the bloody tipped piece still in his left hand.


    ¡°Sonofabitch¡­ sonofabitch¡­ sonofabitch that hurt!¡±  He hissed, he didn¡¯t touch the floor with the bottom of his foot, instead thudding the heel along step by step until he reached the kitchen, dropped the fragment of blue, and now bloodstained glass, onto the counter and looked around for something to clean his foot with.


    Under the sink, he got lucky, a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a few cotton balls.  ¡°Why did I put these here in the first place¡­ for that matter, why do I even have cotton balls?  When have I ever in my life said to myself, ¡®Charlie, don¡¯t forget to buy cotton balls at the store¡­¡¯ ugh, whatever¡­ at least I¡¯ve got something.¡±  He griped at nothing and cracked the cap on the rubbing alcohol, slapped a cotton ball over the opaque gray bottle and tipped it upside down.


    He then set the bottle down, held his hand up, braced himself with every muscle tense, and slammed the cotton ball down over the little stab wound.


    Fiery pain shot through from the bottom of his foot all the way up to his brain.  ¡°Gahhh¡­¡±  He hissed and clenched his jaw.  ¡°This is worse than stepping on a damn¡­ whatever they call those plastic toy blocks¡­¡±


    When Charlie¡¯s wound was cleared, he went back to his bed, the basket Josef had intended to take had been left behind¡­ several times now.  In it there was still a set of paper towels, or as Charlie had come to think of them, ¡®big toilet paper¡¯.


    And now¡­ bandages.  He tore off the plastic and threw it into the shadowy depths of his dimly lit hovel, then the perforated lines were shredded and he quickly folded the paper towel strip over a few times to make a long, ropelike strip and tied it around his foot.  He then shoved a few cotton balls underneath to soak up the blood, before finally lying down.


    ¡°This sucks.¡±  he muttered resentfully, folding his hands over his chest as he stretched out after turning off the light.  He stared into the darkness, wondering what to do, and was still wondering when he finally fell into a painless, fearless, dreamless sleep.

 Chapter Nine

    ¡®This shouldn¡¯t be.¡¯  Charlie said when he woke up, he slammed his feet down so hard on the floor that the entire flat rattled from floors to walls.  ¡®If I had neighbors, they¡¯d complain.¡¯  He thought, then kicked at the garbage nearest to him.


    His alarm was blaring, the constant ¡®buzz...buzz...buzz¡¯ a flash of white hot hatred and anger flared up for the noise by which he¡¯d lived his life, and Charlie darted his hand out.  He grabbed the cheap black plastic device, yanked it from the outlet and threw it at the wall with a shout.  It flew from his hand, the power cord fluttering wildly in the air wild as the tail of a kite in the wind and long as the tail of a comet, the alarm shattered into pieces with heavy clatter like a child¡¯s tower of blocks falling apart when it was stacked too high.


    The pieces disappeared amidst the debris, and when he saw them fall and vanish amidst the garbage, his hatred turned inward.  ¡°God, what the hell have I¡­¡±  He muttered but didn¡¯t finish the sentence.


    The ruin of his life around him burned like the bourbon he¡¯d downed the other day.  Then as he glanced around, Charlie frowned.  ¡®Where did these come from?¡¯  And his stomach snarled at him while he wondered where those other liquor bottles came from.


    The growling of his stomach proved more and more desperate, so Charlie ventured to the kitchen, his foot came out and he viciously kicked a bottle across the room where it struck a half upright box, tipped end over end, and shattered against the wall near the door, scattering glass around.


    A moment later, Charlie shouted with alarm, ¡°What the fuck?!¡± his lips parted with a dumbfounded expression.  Down below his eyes, looking at the foot that had just kicked the bottle away, he saw that the bandage he¡¯d placed on his foot with improvised paper towels and cotton balls was gone.  In its place was a proper wrapping of white gauze.


    More than that, his foot didn¡¯t hurt nearly as much.  Charlie picked up the pace, taking long strides the rest of the way into the kitchen, he went to a chair and shoved things out of the way to fall into the debris on the floor.  Charlie reached down, grabbed his ankle, and pulled his foot up with a grunt to set it on his knee.  He snatched the tucked in part of the bandage and yanked it loose, his hands ran around his foot, without even noticing, he began to mutter¡­


    ¡°Round and round the mulberry bush, around and round we go, where we stop, when we stop, nobody can know.¡±  When he realized he¡¯d spoken, he rolled his eyes at himself.  ¡°I can¡¯t believe I still remember that old rhyme.¡±  He tilted his foot back until the pain stung the extremity.


    There, over the injury, was a medically taped antiseptic patch.  ¡°Josef¡­ you sonofabitch¡­¡±  Charlie sighed.  But that still left the question of the bottles.  ¡°Have I been drinking that much?  How long was I in that stupor¡­?¡±


    No answer came to mind for Charlie Manning, and before he could ask again, his stomach reasserted itself with a growl like a starving lion.


    Charlie rewrapped the bandage and tucked it back into place the same way, and thought of what to do next.  ¡®Have I not been eating¡­ that doesn¡¯t sound like me.¡¯


    His stomach growled again, arguing the contrary point.


    A bag sat on the table by the chair in the kitchen, white cheap plastic, the sort from Josef¡¯s store, Charlie reached in, there inside were a few clear plastic containers.  One containing grapes that had become room temperature, still on the little clumping vines and stems, cut away from a larger whole.


    Under that was a little clear plastic container holding lettuce, and another with a few croutons, and another holding some dressing packets, olives, and bacon bits¡­ and a plastic fork still in its sealed plastic wrap.


    Charlie Manning had never counted himself a religious man, but¡­ at that moment, all he could think was, ¡®Josef is a god- damn- angel.¡¯


    And that just intensified his desperation.  With nothing else that he could think of, Charlie went to the bathroom, he pinched his nose and turned his face up, the path to the bathroom remained as clear as it was the last time Josef had gone into it.


    However, the bathroom was not as Charlie remembered.  The sink was clear, the mirror wiped down, the floor with its wet, foul overflow¡­ mopped up.  The toilet itself was even unclogged.


    The shower had been rinsed clean¡­ in short, it was¡­ ¡®Useable, I can ¡®use¡¯ this¡­¡¯  Charlie thought with wonder, there was even a cheap toothbrush still in its plastic/cardboard combination container, and an unopened tube of toothpaste sitting in a clean disposable plastic cup beside the faucet.


    On the inside of the shower on the cream colored soapdish was an unopened box with familiar green soap.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    ¡°Damn¡­ how the hell does he know?!¡±  Charlie asked the empty room with tears in his eyes, he peeled off the blue tracksuit and dropped it to the floor before reaching in, taking the green box and tearing the cardboard top open.


    The strong spring like smell was a welcome one to his previously dead nose.


    He turned the nozzle and after a few seconds of dreadful thudding from the showerhead as if the water were fighting internal blockage, a steady stream came down like spring rains over the great outdoors.


    Charlie kept a hand in while the water went from ice cold, to luke warm, to warm, to hot and the steam began to rise.  The gentle steady roar was a long missed comfort, and into it he stepped.


    As soon as his feet splashed into the water around the drain a part of Charlie Manning began to return to life, to return to his humanity.


    He gave long, deep sighs, breathing in the hot steam, his head bent forward, his filthy, disgusting hand caked with unwashed filth resting against the creamy wall, he could watch the caked on grime fall away from the places on his body that the water touched.


    His body was a crusted mountain of foulness from the unwashed filth of just being a living person in a dirty world, to simply doing a shoddy job wiping his own ass when he shit into the trash can.


    ¡°There¡¯s got to be some way out of this¡­ there¡¯s got to be.¡±  Charlie told himself as the dirt and crusted grime ran down the drain.  He began to rub the soap over his body, working a firm lather over his flesh when he¡¯d dampened it, then stepping into the water to let it wash away.


    He turned his face to the water like sunflowers followed the sun, various bits of crumbs that were hoarded by his thick and unwashed beard began to fall away to join the fate of the grime, grease, and whatever else even less pleasant than that, which had been clinging to his body.


    As his hands ran over his body with the bar of soap, he noticed more clearly than before how out of shape he¡¯d become.  ¡®Not much will fit anymore¡­ and even if it did¡­ do I want to wear that?!¡¯  He let out a grim shudder.  The prospect of wearing any of the clothes he now had was enough to make someone shiver in the midst of an inferno.  ¡®No, I doubt any amount of washing will take the filth out of that stuff.¡¯


    He continued to wash himself clean, spending the longest time with his head tilted directly beneath the shower head and washing the greasy mop clear, and when every square inch from the tip of his toes to the top of his head was clean, Charlie simply sat down on the shower floor and rocked back and forth.


    ¡®I¡¯ve got to do something, I¡¯ve got to do anything¡­ there has to be some way to stop the horror from happening.  I don¡¯t want to be the man who destroyed the world.  Even if there¡¯s nobody around to know¡­ even if¡­¡¯  Charlie stopped and bit his tongue.


    He winced at the pain, and felt better for having done that much.  He put his tongue between his teeth again, then slowly increased the pressure until it became a steady, dull pain, and then began to sharpen.


    How many seconds it took before the pain was too much, that he couldn¡¯t say.  But to Charlie, it felt like hours in the shower.  It might have been, because slowly, steadily, he felt the water begin to cool off.


    Very slowly, his muscles aching like he¡¯d been seated for too long, everything stiff and awkward, he uncrossed his legs, reached up with one hand to grab the metal grip bar on the shower wall, then hauled himself to his feet with a strangled grunt.


    Charlie slapped the shower nozzle to the off position, it spun to a dead stop, and he opened the glass door to exit.


    Then it hit him.  ¡®An angel, but not a perfect one.¡¯  Charlie chuckled at the thought, ¡°Looks like he forgot the towels.  It was the closest thing to a real joke in a while, though the laughter was bitter, it was present.  So, naked as the day he was born, Charlie went, walking on tiptoes to touch as little of himself to the floor as he could, back to where his laptop sat.


    He waved his hands up and down several times before getting too close, air drying his hands and fingers before he opened up a shopping website and browsed for clothes.


    He looked down at his body, his precious ¡®medium¡¯ was gone, and what remained was a large if he was being generous.  ¡®God¡­ I really went to hell, didn¡¯t I?¡¯


    He snagged a few articles of generic clothing, put in his address and apartment number, ordered it Fedex to ensure it arrived fast and was delivered to his door, then ordered a few more items.  ¡®New bed sheets, new blanket¡­ some towels¡­¡¯  He then checked out with his credit card and waited.


    Seconds later he had a confirmation code and a few simple items were on the way.


    His stomach growled again¡­ ¡®Right, food¡­¡¯  The phone lay on the floor still attached to the charger.


    He picked it up, the unread texts stopped the day prior, the missed calls also stopped the day prior.  ¡®So that¡¯s it then.  Josef is the only one left.¡¯  Charlie realized, but felt none of the sorrow he thought he would.  ¡°I did it myself, what else could I expect?¡±


    His stomach growled at him again, ¡°I can¡¯t very well order in, naked, that may work in porn, but I¡¯m not attractive enough for that to not result in a call to the police and an indecent exposure charge anymore.¡±


    With nothing else to do, he returned to the kitchen and prepared the meal Josef left for him.  It was dry, it was simple, but it was filling.  The sweet flavor of grapes burst over his tongue as he ate them one by one, then the tangy flavor of the dressing and the little noise of crunching bacon bits¡­ as meals went, it was the healthiest, if plainest, meal he¡¯d had in awhile.


    The sort of thing he ate when he thought about tomorrow as if he had it.


    When the last bite was swallowed and the plastic thrown back into the bag, Charlie thought about what to do next.


    ¡°Alright¡­ I can¡¯t very well go anywhere buck naked other than a nudist colony or a fraternity rush¡­ and I¡¯m about twenty years too late for the latter¡­ and¡­¡±  He looked down his front and could no longer see his penis.  ¡°I don¡¯t have the body for that anymore, how long have I been-¡±  He shook his head, casting off small droplets of water around the room.


    ¡°Don¡¯t think about it.¡±  Charlie told himself, ¡°When your things arrive tomorrow,¡± he said, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, ¡°you can go ask god himself for help.  For now¡­ I have to do this on my own¡­ even if just a little, to thank him for putting up with my worthless ass¡­¡±  He then reached down, plucked up a bottle, and dropped it out the window to shatter into pieces in the dumpster down below.


    ¡®The Lord helps those who help themselves¡­¡¯  He recited the statement from memory despite it having not been uttered or thought in decades, then reached down, picked up another bottle, and dropped it after the first one until the space around his bed was empty.


    ¡°It isn¡¯t much¡­ but it¡¯s a start.¡±  He said with a grimace at the filth, and reached for an old greasy pizza box, he dropped it out the window and watched the way it caught the air with it¡¯s wide open frame.  It didn¡¯t fall like a brick, but it made it in the bin.  ¡®Another step in the right direction, if I prove myself¡­ maybe¡­ maybe I can do something.¡¯


    Or so Charlie hoped, desperately¡­ and fervently, with all that he had¡­ he hoped.

 Chapter Ten

    Charlie woke up in the morning, though he wasn¡¯t sure quite what time, the buzzing of his alarm wasn¡¯t there, and as there was no schedule to be kept, he had no reason to care.  He got out of the bed, went into the shower like a man on autopilot and turned the water on.  The room he left behind was still a ruin, but when Josef comes back, ¡®At least he¡¯ll have a place to sit without being in garbage.  At least he won¡¯t smell me, at least I won¡¯t look like a homeless bum.¡¯


    A dozen or more ¡®at leasts¡¯ ran through his mind as the hot water beat down and the steam clouded up around him.  Sleeping on that mattress left Charlie feeling frankly as dirty as he¡¯d felt before his most recent shower.  ¡®I should get a new one of those too.  God, just the thought of what might grow in the grime crushed into that¡­ if I could fit it out the window¡­¡¯  It was a shudder of dread at the thought of being on it again.


    The sound of the falling water bouncing off of him and echoing over the floor, the roar of it from his high pressure shower head, it was all a profoundly pleasant experience¡­


    And it left Charlie with a despairing kind of desperation.  ¡®I¡¯ve got to do something¡­ I can¡¯t think of anything else to do¡­ but I can¡¯t make things worse than I already have!¡¯


    His aching fear was like ice in his veins that wouldn¡¯t melt despite the heat that surrounded him in the little four by six space.


    But at least he could take his time, the sheer weight of it all began to press him down, and so Charlie sat, naked beneath the pounding water, and brought his knees up close to his chest, he wrapped his arms around his legs and grasped one hand to the other, and hung his head.


    ¡°God¡­ I don¡¯t know what the hell I¡¯m even thinking¡­¡±  He muttered and then looked up, the blast of water hit him full in the face, water ran through his still scruffy, if clean, light brown beard.  The water hit so hard that Charlie couldn¡¯t even see the shower head itself, it was as if he were standing an inch away from a wall through which he couldn¡¯t see.


    He didn¡¯t turn his face away, even though the sensitive facial skin stung with every drop, ¡®This is the least of the pain I deserve for what I¡¯ve done¡­¡¯  He told himself, but almost like he wanted to defy that thought, he unwrapped the now soaked gauze bandage and rubbed soap over the injured space.


    Josef had left enough materials behind to change it a few times, so Charlie felt no worries there.


    But his heart was pounding with a different kind of anxiety when he finished cleaning his injury.  Charlie could only sit in dull silence, ¡®I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know what I¡¯m doing¡­ I guess this is the second time in my life for that¡­¡¯  He turned his mind back to his former work, one wrong act¡­ just one more piece of knowledge grasped for.


    ¡®Why?  Why did I have to know one more damn thing?¡¯  He asked himself, hating the curiosity that drove his life to its current state.


    ¡®There¡¯s nothing worse than being right, sometimes.¡¯  He thought while his despair washed over him like the water overhead, ¡®God damn¡­ I¡¯m whining, aren¡¯t I?  What the hell good is that going to do me?!  Or anyone?!  At least anger kind of feels good¡­¡¯


    Charlie¡¯s train of thought was thrown off the track when there was a pounding at his door.


    The heavy thud of a meaty fist.  ¡®Are they early?  How long have I been in here?¡¯  Charlie asked himself, but had no answer¡­ his frustratingly normal state of affairs lately, and turning off the water, leaving only a few small drops to fall steady and slow to the shower floor, he got out.


    Droplets cast off behind him as he emerged, ¡°I¡¯m just getting out of the shower!  Just leave my stuff at the door!  I¡¯ll be there in a minute!¡±  Charlie shouted.


    ¡°You got it!¡±  Someone just beyond the door shouted back.  ¡°Have a nice day!¡±


    ¡°Yeah.  Yeah¡­ right.¡±  Charlie murmured and stepped with care around the carpet of waste to ensure his clean body touched none of it, and he reached the door.


    Charlie put his hand out to the knob and almost grasped it, but then stopped.  ¡®Still nude, better¡­ Yeah, don¡¯t want the embarrassment.¡¯  It was an absurd thought on its face.  ¡®Everybody who would care is going to die anyway.  What does it matter if they see one naked fat guy before the end?¡¯


    It was a derisive thought, but it wasn¡¯t enough to make him fling open the door, he put his ear to it instead, listened, there was the distant sound of feet slapping against the steps and echoing off the walls that led down to the exit.


    When the sound faded, Charlie unlocked the door and turned the knob.  There were a series of boxes stacked on top of one another at his feet.  The familiar white packaging was a welcome relief, and Charlie snatched them off the ground all at once, holding a stack six boxes high that almost obscured his vision, and carefully brought them inside.  He gave the door a solid kick with the back of his foot causing a loud slam to ring out over the apartment a moment later.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    When he dropped the boxes on his bed it let out a crude squeak in response and the packages bounced up and down several times.  ¡®Six bounces.¡¯  He thought and didn¡¯t bother to count the reflexive prediction¡¯s results.


    He took the box off the top and peeled away the perforated portion, wedging his finger under one part to gain some leverage and it slowly tore open.


    When it opened, he found a few sets of underwear in plastic bags.


    He tore it open and pulled up the boxer-briefs.  The elastic fabric felt smooth and cozy against his skin, the little ¡®snap¡¯ when he let go was something of a relief.  ¡®I¡¯d forgotten how good it feels to wear something ¡®clean¡¯.¡¯  Charlie realized in the same instant of the snap.


    Like the moment in childhood between when a child sees the presents beneath a Christmas tree, and the moment he runs to tear them open, Charlie went to work, rushing through the tearing open and throwing things on, pants, clean socks, a shirt that didn¡¯t stink and had all its buttons in place.  His fingers flew up the center length of the shirt, slipping button into button hole faster than a rabbit dove into its home to escape a hungry fox.


    Then it was done, Charlie was dressed.  Simple blue jeans, a button down red collared shirt, and some clean white socks.  He slipped on his shoes and went back to the door.


    This time he didn¡¯t hesitate to take a step, Charlie barely noticed that he¡¯d even left the disaster at his back, with more packages to go, but none of them were needed at the moment, so he went down the hall and practically jogged down the stairs and out of the building.


    Traffic was relatively light.  The sun was out, the rain had passed away, the gray above from the day before was receding into the distance and it was a cloudless and calm day, warm to the point of almost being hot.  As Charlie walked, he glanced up at the tree where the robin nest sat.  It was empty as near as Charlie could tell.  The brown twigs and other debris used to make the nest were starting to collapse, but above that branch he saw something else.


    A sparrow coming back and forth building a nest of its own.  It tweeted and chirped periodically, ¡®New tenant.¡¯  Charlie thought with a little amusement and pity at the bird, and cast a thought to the robins that were there before.  ¡®I hope their nestlings made it.¡¯


    No sooner than the thought came to mind than he cursed it.  ¡®Of course they¡¯re not going to make it!  We¡¯re all dead!¡¯


    Charlie did the best he could to walk like a ¡®normal¡¯ person, his eyes forward and conscious of the world around him.  Cars drove past, people sold goods, not far away he saw a homeless man wearing a hat made out of tinfoil.  The sun glinted off the bright silver color with such focus that passers by turned their heads away or held their hands up beside their eyes to block it out.


    Nobody listened to him, of course.  ¡®The poor guy, he¡¯s delusional, but he¡¯s also right, and he just doesn¡¯t know how right he is or why, and if he did, would he really waste his time like this trying to tell everyone?¡¯


    Rough voiced, unshaven, holding a sign that promised doom, anyone who came too close was treated to having it shoved into their faces.


    ¡°The end of the world is coming!¡±  The wild man shouted and gesticulated around, whenever nobody was close enough to force his sign too close to read even if they wanted to.


    ¡®I¡¯ve always avoided that guy before¡­ crossed the street¡­ but¡­¡¯  Charlie thought, the crosswalk that led to his destination was to his right.  At his left, a few feet ahead shouting from the way into the alley where the crazed man also slept at night.  Looking ahead to his left and over to his right where the crosswalk stood, Charlie made a choice.


    He walked to the homeless man, and waited.  It took only seconds before the cardboard sign made from the torn up piece of a cast off package was shoved to within an inch of Charlie¡¯s face.


    ¡°The end is near!  Do you understand!  Do you?!  The world is ending!¡±  Even being unable to see the bedraggled rags of dirty clothing or the wild bleary, red cracked eyes of a man who rarely slept or had to sleep with one eye open at night, Charlie felt the raw intensity of his conviction.


    Unlike the rest who passed them by, Charlie didn¡¯t step back on his heel or rush past.


    ¡°So what?¡±  He asked, and the homeless man went silent.


    ¡°What?¡±  It was a voice hoarse from yelling for hours, but it was the first break in his prophetic words of doom in... nobody could have said how long.


    The sign slowly came down to chest level, giving Charlie his first true close up look at the homeless man.  His cheeks were smeared with sewer grease and filth, his clothing had the same stuff caked on it, his eyes were bright blue which stood out all the more, centered amidst dark bags under his eyes and red cracks in the whites.


    ¡°I said, ¡®So what?¡¯¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°The world is going to end, we¡¯re all going to die, you¡¯ve been saying that over here for years.  A lot of people died before it ever happened, three people died just up the street,¡± Charlie jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward the intersection where the accident happened, ¡°what should they have done differently if they believed you?¡±


    Dirty, pinkish lips closed, ¡°So you¡¯re right, so what?  Why are you telling everybody, is that how you want to waste your remaining days, like the end is already here?¡±  Charlie asked, his hands clenched into fists, he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans to hide his impotent anger.


    ¡°They have to know so they can save themselves!  I¡¯m trying to help people to the truth!  The world is doomed!  I¡¯ll spend my last days leading people to the truth!¡±  The spittle flew into Charlie¡¯s face and beard, the wet stickiness of it bothered him less than he expected.


    ¡°So this is how you want to spend your days, this is how you want to help?¡±  Charlie asked, noticing the streaks of whitish gray in the once black hair of the homeless occupant of the alley.


    ¡°Yes!¡±  The homeless man cried out with happiness as if Charlie had stumbled on the truth.


    It was enough that Charlie had to sigh, he grabbed his wallet and drew it out.  He opened it up and flipped through various receipts until he spied the bit of green.


    As luck would have it, there was still an unused fifty inside.  Charlie held it out to him.  ¡°Well, at least don¡¯t die thirsty or hungry.  Go get yourself something from the ¡®Get-n-Go¡¯.  It¡¯s on me.¡±


    The homeless man immediately snatched the green out of Charlie¡¯s palm, and briefly looked at Charlie as if ¡®he¡¯ were the crazy one.


    ¡°It¡¯s fine, I don¡¯t need it.¡±  Charlie said with a shrug.


    ¡°Th-Thank you.¡±  The aging man muttered, he set aside his sign, propping it up just inside the alley, and headed off down the street.


    Charlie watched him go for a full minute, standing at the crosswalk as pedestrians and cars went on their way with the same indifference that life there always had about it.


    Nobody really paid any mind to Charlie, they walked around him, some brushed against him, others straight past, but Charlie only had eyes for the filthy retreating back of the man carrying the fifty.


    Only when that one was out of sight did Charlie cross the street, and walk across the paved stone path that led to a set of stone steps.  They were six in number and carved out of a solid piece of granite that was in turn inserted into the little grassy hill, from them there was another small brick walkway that led to another set of wide steps.  Those wide steps ended in a set of double doors, which in turn led into a large church.


    He reached the double doors, there were two brass bars that jutted out, each one as long as his arm, and the doors were of dark wood, with crosses finely cut and towering in the center of both.


    ¡®Okay¡­ god, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re listening, I don¡¯t know if you¡¯re real, I don¡¯t know if this is what you want even if you are¡­ but¡­ here goes¡­ I don¡¯t know?  Something?  Nothing?  I guess we¡¯ll see.¡¯  Charlie thought toward the heavens, pulled the door open, and stepped inside.

 Chapter Eleven

    The church was everything Charlie would have expected it to be, a long double row of dark wooden pews that stretched to the far end where a pulpit sat empty.  To the left sat a series of small levels with chairs for a choir to sing.  On a long path between the door and the rear was a strip of red carpet over the hardwood floor, and colored patterns every dozen feet or so from the stained glass windows that had various saints on display.


    Charlie closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ¡°Okay.  You¡¯re doing this.¡±  He told himself and began to walk in, the building appeared empty, though there was a door that led to the back beside a table with a series of candles, their light danced on, reflecting off of a large cross that appeared golden in the light but was in fact likely just bronze.


    The beams of light that shone through the windows of the otherwise dimly lit building illuminated the many little motes of dust that floated in the light.  It made Charlie think of something one of his few idols once said.  ¡®That¡¯s here.  That¡¯s home.  That¡¯s us.  On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives.  The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines.  Every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ¡°superstar¡±, every ¡°supreme leader,¡± every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there, -on a mote dust suspended in a sunbeam.¡¯


    As Charlie passed through the beam of light and the dust scattered with the force of his passing, he put his hand out, the little motes of dust were there, orbiting around his hand, over his palm, responding to every tremor of his body.  The light cast through the window warmed his skin, and the warmth traveled up the length of his arm beneath his sleeves.  ¡®Is there any point to even asking?¡¯  Charlie wondered, and then asked himself, ¡®Is there any point to ¡®not¡¯ asking?¡¯


    He broke away from the beam of sunlight that shone through, ignoring the shadow his body cast on the floor, and went to his knees in front of the cross.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to do it.  I swear.  I beg you, don¡¯t make Josef, or anyone else, pay for my mistakes.  I never wanted to be the villain¡­ I never wanted to be the bad guy.  I just¡­ I saw a chance to learn what nobody ever had¡­ I had to take it.  I didn¡¯t know anyone would get hurt because of me!  That¡¯s not fair!  He shouted at the cross, it hung there in silence, his own face reflected back at him from where he knelt.  ¡°Aren¡¯t you supposed to be just?!  Can¡¯t you stop this?!  Do something?!  Give me a sign that it¡¯ll be alright!  Talk to me!¡±  He clasped his hands and kept staring up at the silent cross on the wall.


    ¡°Is this how I¡¯m being punished for not believing?!  Is this what you want?!  I¡¯m down on my knees asking for your help¡­ I¡¯ll do anything to make this right again!  I¡¯ll never drink again!  I¡¯ll get a job again and donate everything I have to helping the poor!  I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll come to church every week!  I¡¯ll become a minister like my great grandfather!  I¡¯ll¡­ I¡¯ll do anything!  Just please¡­ save my friends¡­ save my world¡­  Maybe we are just a mote of dust caught in a sunbeam in a Universe too vast for our minds to even comprehend¡­ but this is my mote of dust!  I don¡¯t want anything to happen to it!¡±


    Still, he saw only his own reflection cast back at him from the polished cross, and heard no words but his own within the sacred place of worship.


    He saw no lips move but his own, no care but his own.  The cross was silent, the room was silent.


    ¡°Please¡­ tell me something¡­ tell me it¡¯ll be alright¡­¡±  Charlie said and sniffled, he broke the prayer posture to wipe his nose, and caught the feel of tears on the back of his hand which he hadn¡¯t even noticed shedding.


    ¡°I¡¯m a man of science¡­ I never believed in much of anything¡­ and I never believed in you, no more than I believed in Thor or Allah or anything else¡­ but I can¡¯t do anything now, and I¡¯m desperate.  Will you hear the prayers of an apostate?  Or am I already dead to you?  A man once told me¡­ ¡®God doesn¡¯t love you¡¯ when I told him I didn¡¯t believe, and¡­ I could see why.  I¡¯m not a perfect man, but I¡¯m not that bad either.  I care for my friends, my family, my neighbors¡­ I want this world to endure beyond my lifetime and I don¡¯t want anyone to get hurt.  If I have the power to help¡­ I¡¯ll do it.  So fine, if you don¡¯t love me¡­ don¡¯t.  If you won¡¯t hear my prayer for my sake, hear it for theirs!¡±


    Charlie turned his eyes from the cross when a noise at his back caught his ears.


    Flapping wings.  A bird flew through the open door.  ¡®Didn¡¯t that shut?¡¯  Charlie wondered as he tried to recall.


    The bird continued to flutter around, landing on a beam that went across the high ceiling.  It looked down at him with seeming curiosity, cocking its head, bobbing up and down, strutting around occasionally.


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s look at the logic.  You create everything, and then make me¡­ at some point, and decide I should be the one to destroy it all?  If this is part of some divine plan¡­ I don¡¯t like it.  What about what we want?  You gave us free will didn¡¯t you?!  Aren¡¯t you letting me take away everybody¡¯s free will!  They want to live out their lives!  Shouldn¡¯t they matter more than the will of one apostate!  How can you be called just if you let injustice pass!  How can you be merciful if you let me get everybody hurt without stopping it?!  Please¡­ do something.  I need a miracle¡­ we need a miracle.  Tell me what to do¡­ I don¡¯t know.  I¡¯m lost, utterly lost¡­¡±  Charlie said, his hands clasped together again the way he¡¯d been taught as a child.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    But there was only silence from the bronze cross, and no voice was in the air but Charlie¡¯s own, no sound but the prayers that became desperate mutterings.


    Then word by word, they faded away until, from down on his knees, he rocked back and forth without using any real words.  Charlie¡¯s hands remained so tightly clasped, that his knuckles turned white and his fingers ached.  His words had long since become mere noises, and as he knelt there in prayer before the altar he hadn¡¯t seen since childhood, the hours began to slip past.


    Behind him, people came and went, some sitting in pews and hanging their heads, their own prayers sometimes whispered loud enough that he could hear them.  ¡®...Find a job¡­¡¯


    ¡®...Come back to me¡­¡¯


    ¡®...Save my marriage¡­¡¯


    ¡®...Don¡¯t let it be cancer¡­¡¯


    ¡®...Let me have this promotion¡­¡¯


    ¡®...I could do a lot of good if you¡¯d just let me win the lottery¡­¡¯


    It went on, and on, and on, and on, and on.


    Sometimes people came to pray beside him, it wasn¡¯t hard to realize they were the most desperate, an old woman knelt down, her face an oval, and crisscrossed with lines of age, Charlie noticed her because she took so long to get down to her knees, she wore a shawl of blue and white over her head, and had a striking presence that might have meant she was quite the looker when she was young.  She gave Charlie a little smile, which let him notice that she was missing most of her teeth, and when the light from the window caught her, he noticed she was far from the cleanest.


    ¡°Something bad¡­ huh?¡±  She asked as she clasped her hands together.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah it is.  I did¡­ I did something awful, it was an accident, but that doesn¡¯t change that it was awful.¡±  Charlie paused his prayers to answer.


    ¡°Well you came to the right place¡­ I always feel better.  He¡¯s always listening, you know.¡±  She said in her creaky, weary voice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ but I¡¯ll try anything.¡±  Charlie replied, then, about to resume, he stopped to ask her instead, ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    Her stomach rumbled.  ¡°Asking for help¡­ shelter ran out today, and with the weather raining a lot, people don¡¯t stop like they sometimes do¡­ so¡­ I come here.¡±


    ¡°Oh.¡±  Charlie answered,  ¡°The church helps you?  I don¡¯t know if the priest or anyone who works here is around¡­¡±


    The old woman cracked a smile and pointed up, ¡°He works here, he always works here¡­¡±


    Charlie shifted his weight a little with discomfort where he knelt, and silence passed between them.


    How much time passed by, Charlie didn¡¯t know, but when he saw the old woman start to move, he stood up and held out a hand to her.  Her spindly hand went reflexively to his, and he put a hand on her back and helped her to stand up again as gently as he could.


    If the divine had chosen to answer Charlie¡¯s prayer, Charlie couldn¡¯t tell.  The warning of his father and mother rang in his head, ¡®Sometimes the answer is no.¡¯


    He ignored the memory, but couldn¡¯t ignore the silence.  If it had been a whisper, the whisper too soft to hear, if it had been a sign, he didn¡¯t see it.  ¡°Th-Thank you, young man.¡±  She said when she pulled up the long faded blue and white dress she wore and brushed her hands over the dirty old thing to smooth it out a little.


    ¡°N-No problem, you¡¯re welcome.¡±  Charlie answered, ¡°Listen, I have a little time,¡± he gave her an uncomfortable little trace of a smile, ¡®That¡¯s a lie,¡¯ he told himself, ¡®I have lots of time right now.¡¯  he thought, but continued on to say, ¡°why don¡¯t you walk with me for a little ways, I¡¯ll get you a sandwich or something by the Get-n-Go.  The guy who runs it is a friend of mine, I can get you a gift card good for a few meals to use whenever the shelter runs short.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ nice of you, thank you.¡±  She said, and they began to walk back toward the entrance.


    Charlie heard the flapping wings again, and saw the bird struggling against a low window, unable to comprehend the curious forcefield humans had erected, it battered itself against the glass in a struggle it could never win.  ¡°Just one second.¡±  Charlie said, and moving around the pews, sliding slowly between them, he waited until the bird was in a low corner of the window, and then he darted forward and snatched it up, closing both his hands around the sparrow.


    He carried the bird in front of him with both hands while the old woman watched with a cockeyed look in her brown eyes.  ¡°I¡¯m a lot older than you can probably guess, young man, and I¡¯ve never seen somebody snatch up a bird on the wing that way.¡±


    Charlie shrugged as he came closer.  ¡°A sparrow beats its wings about fifteen times per second, and flies about thirty miles an hour, that means it can move one mile in two minutes or two thousand six hundred and forty feet in one minute, or forty-four feet per second if it gets a chance to take off.  All I had to do was catch it in a corner going in the wrong direction to avoid me, and I cut that advantage down to a fraction of itself.  I¡¯m not as athletic as I used to be, but a basketball is typically shot at about eighteen miles per hour and I can intercept that, or could.  Or¡­ can, I guess.¡±  Charlie grinned as she began to look befuddled.


    ¡°You¡¯re one of those smart types, eh?¡±  She asked with a laugh.


    Charlie gave a sheepish red flushed expression, ¡°I guess about that too, yeah.¡±


    ¡°My son is smart too.¡±  She said with pride that briefly seemed to restore something of her youth.


    ¡°That¡¯s nice, what does he do?¡±  Charlie asked as they left the church.  He stepped aside to ensure the bird wouldn¡¯t fly back inside again, and then holding his hands up overhead, he released the sparrow and watched it fly away until it was far out of sight.  ¡®I¡¯ll have to wash my hands after that.¡¯  He made a mental note as they watched the bird become a dot and then disappear.


    ¡°Oh, he was a doctor¡­ but I¡¯m afraid he passed away, he was murdered by a patient.¡±  She said, her head hung, and Charlie impulsively put an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against his side.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±  Charlie said, ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    She gave a weak smile up toward him, ¡°No, you wouldn¡¯t, but don¡¯t apologize, I¡¯ve learned to live with it.¡±  She said before her stomach rumbled again.


    ¡°Is that so¡­¡±  Charlie asked, ¡°Well, I¡¯m still sorry, now, how about that sandwich?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯d like that,¡± the old woman said, and let Charlie help her down the stairs and across the street.


    By reflex, Charlie looked toward the alley, the bum he gave the fifty to was sitting down in the shadowy part between two buildings, his lips wrapped around something in a brown paper bag.


    They went the other way, leaving both the church and the homeless man behind.

 Chapter Twelve

    The trip to Josef¡¯s shop was a short one even though he noted when he looked down, that the old woman could not take very long steps. ¡®Chalk it up to the company I¡¯m keeping.¡¯ It was hard not to like her, she chatted incessantly and told old jokes as if they were fresh. This carried on all the way into the building, the bell overhead rang out and a young hispanic boy in his teenage years with the dark wisps of hair which promised to one day become a grand mustache gave out a friendly wave.


    ¡°Dr. Manning! Long time no see!¡± The boy said with a broad smile, he was a spindly lad, long limbed, gangly and lean. At sixteen though, he still wasn¡¯t filled out, though it appeared to Charlie that he¡¯d become quite tall if given time.


    ¡®He won¡¯t grow up.¡¯ The voice in Charlie¡¯s head promised him, ¡®You killed this one too.¡¯ Charlie squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then covered his distress with a brief coughing fit before waving off the looks of concern from those around him.


    When Charlie was sure he¡¯d successfully won the fight for self control again, he straightened up and waved his hand in a dismissive fashion. ¡°I¡¯m fine, just fine. It was just a¡­¡±


    ¡®...a fly flew down my throat.¡¯


    ¡®...I swallowed wrong.¡¯


    ¡®...I was engulfed in sorrow and self pity for a moment and didn¡¯t want you to see it.¡¯


    Each thought ran through his head and none of them were good reasons or ones he intended to use.


    Instead Charlie finished with an awkward, ¡°...nothing, it was just nothing, I¡¯ll take your sandwich of the day, Eduardo, and fifty bucks on a gift card.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing!¡± Eduardo said from behind the counter. It was lined with things to sell, all of them inexpensive, all of them at least ¡®slightly¡¯ desirable.


    ¡®Impulse buys are dangerous things to the wallet. Josef may be a good man, but he¡¯s also one helluva ¡®businessman¡¯.¡¯


    The triple layers of shelves were full of bright colors and even small, somewhat more expensive toys. A few feet away, a young woman with a toddler in hand began howling about a stuffed animal. A little stuffed rabbit with the same color of russet red as herself. Her tiny arm flailed and her legs kicked, though no more than knee height, her mother, an older clone of her freckle faced daughter, was clearly worn out. Bags under her green eyes, face drawn, ¡°No I¡¯m not getting you a rabbit,¡± she said as soon as she saw the nine dollar and ninety nine cent price tag, ¡°but if you¡¯ll be quiet you can pick out two pieces of candy.¡±


    ¡°Free!¡± The little girl said, holding up three fingers.


    Her mother gave out a long sigh, and Charlie could read her mind. ¡®Don¡¯t bribe the kid, don¡¯t bribe the kid¡­ but also don¡¯t ¡®strangle¡¯ the kid¡­ and I¡¯m going to have to do one of the two if I want to make it through the day.¡¯


    ¡°Fine, three, but you don¡¯t get the third until we¡¯re home and you have to be quiet the whole way there!¡± Her mother said, and the girl picked out four dollars worth of candy.


    ¡®Rabbit trick works again.¡¯ Charlie couldn¡¯t help but praise his friend as the woman got into line and Charlie swiped his credit card, paying for the sandwich and the gift card.


    He stepped aside while Josef wrangled a few more dollars from the woman¡¯s pocket. Charlie then handed the little blue plastic card over to his companion, along with the sandwich. When she had them both in hand, she looked down at them, then looked up at him, then back down at the card and sandwich again. She seemed to turn that over in her head when he said, ¡°Have a nice day. I hope your prayers were answered.¡±


    She blinked away glassy eyes, ¡°They were¡­ thank you.¡± She said, and embraced him, ¡°I hope you get what you asked for too.¡±


    ¡®So would everybody else if they knew what it was.¡¯ Charlie cursed the thought, her frail arms were like dried twigs, so when his hands went behind her, he touched her as gently as he would have the gossamer like wings of a butterfly on a flower petal, before they let go.


    ¡°Good luck to you.¡± Charlie said, then waved to Eduardo, ¡°Have a good one, and stay in school, then one day you can take over this place when Josef retires!¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Eduardo laughed, ¡°Sure thing Dr. Manning, and then I charge you twice what he does.¡±


    Charlie couldn¡¯t help but return the fresh faced enthusiasm of the young man behind the counter, and then pulled on the door and walked out, leaving the old woman behind.


    When he left the store, his first thought was to go back to his flat but... the need to go home wasn¡¯t really on him yet. The area of town in which he lived was¡­ unique in a word. A city within a city, a town within a town. The university where he went to school, the church, Josef¡¯s store, his set of apartments¡­ really everything someone might want to go to was within walking distance of everything else. As long as you had thirty minutes at a leisurely pace, you could be anywhere you needed to be and on your way home again in short order.


    Now, at this moment, clad in clean clothing, and no less desperate than before, Charlie turned an eye in the direction of the university. Not intending to visit it, there was something else he wanted. ¡®A park. Just¡­ a place to relax. I guess I could do that at home but¡­ I don¡¯t really want to.¡¯


    The light breeze wafted over his skin, caressing the fine hairs as if the world itself wanted to reassure him. But as good as that felt, when he left the company of both friend and stranger alike, his own sense of despair and urgent desperation slowly began to reassert itself.


    ¡®They¡¯re counting on you to make it right, you have to fix this.¡¯ He told himself, and wondered if it was himself or whether he was hearing the very voice of God.


    ¡®Fool.¡¯ He told himself as he took the first steps onto the grass and began to walk across the broad open campus. The buildings were in a staggered horseshoe design with a wide open field in the center and paths between each one that allowed access to the rear areas, an easy path to the public parks.


    He wasn¡¯t the only one out there, the days of rain had come and gone, leaving only a growing heat in its place, students were outside sitting under various trees planted all over the place, and everyday residents were visible even from the edge of campus, moving into or out of the public parks. Cars were few there, it was an unwritten rule that if you could walk to the park, you did.


    So Charlie crossed the few small streets in his path without incident, and made his way to the place he thought of as the entrance. The overall park area was well maintained, a few metal bins for rubbish, a small playground with rubber chips beneath slides, monkeybars, and a swingset for various ages.


    A good stone¡¯s throw from where he stood he could hear the babbling waters of a creek, a tributary to the river which cut through the city.


    A wide stone bridge with a sidewalk large enough for three men to walk abreast led to the other side, but the crystal clear water and the haphazard layout of large ancient rocks that were scattered about created a natural ¡®dare¡¯.


    ¡®Cross me! Cross me!¡¯ The waters seemed to plead like sirens to the city residents, who ignored the bridge made by men, and instead went straight for the possibility of tumbling into the water over staying dry. Out of the corner of his right eye Charlie saw that a few adults chose the bridge, but they were the exception.


    Of those who chose to risk the leap from stone to stone while water babbled endlessly around them, those who found themselves in wet shoes did not complain. Some laughed and stood there for a moment, the cool water running over their skin, some got back on the rock that failed them and tried to get across the rest of the way, and a few simply slogged their way through the water to the other side sending splashing waves of water out from their legs, sometimes soaking children who squealed with excitement and pretended to run away.


    For Dr. Charlie Manning however, everything was somewhat more detached. His heartbeat raced and though he could smile at their antics, he found no way he could share in their pleasures.


    He ignored both the man-made and the not-quite bridges and instead walked toward a different place in the path of water near a bend, this one was shallow enough that you could cross it in high boots and not get your skin wet, though as Charlie wore sneakers, his feet were good as drenched.


    He didn¡¯t mind, the water was at its lowest point where he crossed, and though he splashed a bit and quickly felt the water pierce the shoes, soak his socks¡­ not to mention his feet, and the bottoms of his jeans of course, he was at the other side in seconds.


    The cool water and the sound of the squish and squee of his feet in his shoes wasn¡¯t unpleasant, and as such he waved to those he saw in the deeper area. A massive rock lay in water almost six feet deep, on top of it several shirtless boys were doing cannonballs into the water, splashing those who swam nearby.


    Charlie looked up, the rock¡¯s layers matched perfectly with a series of layers some thirty feet up, and the jagged outline of the stone matched the layers like pieces from the same jigsaw puzzle set. Millions of years was represented there, millions of years, and then ¡®something¡¯ brought the stone tumbling down where it continued to sit for perhaps millions of years more, where it now served as part of a place for children to play.


    ¡®Will it survive the cataclysm I¡¯ve brought down upon us all?¡¯ Charlie had his doubts, the raw destructive power of the universe never ceased to amaze anyone who studied the stars in the infinite void, or the celestial bodies that lived around them.


    The ache in his heart forced him to move on, what he truly wanted was a reflective place, a place he could sit in the world instead of alone in his quarters. Part of him said, ¡®Silly sentiment.¡¯ To himself, but it was what Charlie wanted, so he made his way past them until he could break from the path, climbing down a small embankment, crossing the water again, and up to the other side.


    From there, a short walk into a wooded area, an old stone that fit nowhere around the place where it lay, sat where he¡¯d left it many years before. Around it, a sea of green plants with a soft, rubbery feel to the touch, and amidst this vast carpet bloomed bright yellow flowers creating wild, vivid patterns amidst the trees of gray bark.


    Having found what he wanted, Charlie sat where he¡¯d sat for many nights over the passing years, crossing his legs when he put his back to the stone and sat down. He then took a deep breath, and began to beg the universe itself for help.


    Charlie¡¯s body was completely relaxed where he sat, here among all the places he knew, this was where he was happiest, the great boughs of trees that were saplings when his grandfather and grandmother first met as young children, despite all his despair and longing to find an answer, even for all that¡­ he could not be unhappy where he was in that moment.


    It was probably ¡®because¡¯ of his state of total relaxation, that the snake ignored him as if he were just part of the forest. Though when Charlie heard it hiss, and a desperate crying from a little bird, his eyes flew open to search for the sound.

 Chapter Thirteen

    Charlie looked around briefly, setting his back against the stone felt good, the gray old rock was shaded by the boughs of an old tree.  The shadows it cast down kept the warmth of the day from heating the rock very much, keeping it cool despite the warmth around them.  The grass and other plants had a rubbery flexibility to them that gave in like a natural bed.  His hands squeezed one of the little strands as the snake he saw, slithered on.  Its forked tongue tasting the air over and over, it was a long, black creature whose scales reflected the light of the day.


    In a way, it was bizarre to be so alone where he was.  Even his looming sense of despair was able to fade a little.  ¡®Like I¡¯m the only man in the world, like I¡¯m all there is.  Nobody else but me and the trees and¡­ if it all comes to an end, I¡¯m the only one who suffers.  God, universe, someone, if you are out there¡­ do something, I¡¯m asking you.  If there¡¯s anything I can offer, anything I can do to correct my mistake¡­ any bargain that will have you speak to me¡­ tell me what it is and I¡¯ll offer it!¡¯


    Pleading for help even if he didn¡¯t believe in it, was as panic-inducing as it was cathartic in a strange way that Charlie couldn¡¯t quite grasp.  He felt the racing of his heart amidst the emptiness of the forest, the voices of others who stuck to the well worn trails of dirt, stone, and pavement were well out of range from here.


    ¡®What would they think if they saw me where I am now?  Would they think I¡¯m meditating?  Or wonder if I¡¯m well?¡¯  The questions came to mind out of the blue, and then fell away like an object secured to a surface with cheap glue.  Charlie just¡­ didn¡¯t care.  So little mattered in the moment that all he could do was continue to beg and plead for some nameless force to come to the rescue.


    His eyes were squeezed tight as he sat alone there, he sat so long that his muscles ached, and he forgot the hissing snake from earlier, it had clearly found a spot to sun itself not far from him, a tiny spot with a rounded old rock that lay there in a break in the woods.  The light of the sun poured its rays down onto the rock for the serpent to enjoy, which it did, for hours.


    Hours and hours.


    While Charlie begged and bargained with powers he was unsure were even there, let alone listening.


    It was not until the sun took its light away from the rock that Charlie was snapped out of his reverie by the hissing again.  He watched the snake with care.  ¡®What kind is it, what does it eat?  Where is it going?  I hope I¡¯m not sitting on the hole going into its lair.¡¯


    That was a disturbing thought that sent Charlie¡¯s brown eyes flying open and made him shoot to his feet and step away before looking down.


    Nothing.


    No hole.


    No lair.


    No little baby snakes to bite him in the ass.


    Charlie touched a hand to his chest, his heart racing for a different reason for once as he took deep, gasping breaths and almost laughed at his panicked response.


    But that still left the snake he could see, and now he couldn¡¯t help but watch it.


    The slow and steady undulations of its long slender body from side to side smoothly over the grass.  Guided by its predatory senses, it began to wind its way around a tree, scaling it with ease toward an increasingly desperate tweeting noise from a high up bird¡¯s nest.  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Charlie watched, spellbound as it drew ever closer to the frantic noise of the desperate chicks who went on and on in terror.  Immediately, without thinking, he crouched down and sifted his hands through the grass.  ¡®A rock, a stick¡­ something¡¯


    The chirping of the nestlings however had not been for nothing, while Charlie¡¯s hand swept through the sun warmed and shade cooled patches of grass for something to use to protect them, and suddenly he heard a louder set of bird calls.  The parents of the nestlings heeded the cries of their hatchlings and descended on the snake.  Amidst the wood, among the shade, the green, and trees a thousand times older than the birds who lived there or the snake that sought their lives, unseen by any eyes but Charlie Manning¡¯s, a life and death struggle ensued in which he became a bystander.


    The birds bobbed and weaved with the skill of an experienced boxer dodging a flurry of blows.  He recalled a fight where Muhammed Ali, trapped in the corner of a ring, moved so fast that even from not a foot away, George Foreman couldn¡¯t land any of a flurry of more than twenty punches.  The birds dove in, pecked at the flesh of the serpent while their babies cried out in fear.


    Down below, Charlie found nothing to help, and could only continue to stare as the fight went on.  The birds drew blood, and a drop fell from high above and struck Charlie on the forehead.  He wiped it off and watched as they sailed in circles around the snake, every attempt it made to draw close to the nest, they attacked another part of its body, forcing it to turn back or snap its jaws.


    Even from where he stood, Charlie could see the great white fangs of the snake when it opened its maw and attempted to snap it down on one of the birds, only for them to dexterously avoid it all.  ¡®They¡¯re going to win¡­ they¡¯re winning, they¡¯re driving it back.¡¯  Charlie realized as the wounds continued to increase on the body of the snake.


    Of course, Dr. Manning¡¯s scientific mind was never far away, ¡®The snake isn¡¯t evil, he¡¯s only doing what he has to in order to stay alive.  He eats birds, birds don¡¯t want to be eaten¡­ nature doing what nature does¡­ survival of the fittest.¡¯


    Today, it seemed the snake was not the fittest, bit by bit it was nibbled at, poked to death by sharp little beaks, and despite his scientific understanding that what he was seeing was neither good nor evil, only amoral nature that cared nothing for either the snake, the parent birds, or the hatchlings, heartache tugged at him at the terrified little cries.


    Then as misfortune would have it, the brighter colored bird avoided a blow by the snake, only for a nut to drop from a branch above and fall towards its head.  The bird avoided the nut¡­ only to find itself dodging into the path of the jaws of the snake.  The mouth snapped shut, the shrieking in the nest redoubled, and as if it were driven by panic or a desperation to save its mate, the other of the pair attacked with reckless abandon, pecking like mad at the scales of the snake, it acted with wild courage, oblivious to danger, and the snake turned its jaws on the mate, and caught that one as well.


    From where he stood, Charlie could not hear whether or not the bones crunched, but he could see the faint bulge in the snake¡¯s body as it turned on the screeching baby birds, now with no one to save them.  He couldn¡¯t see the moment of their ends, though he caught momentary glimpses of their gray feathers as they shuffled about the nest, likely flapping useless wings.


    The snake slithered over the nest, first one, then another perished, and then the last of them entered the belly of the serpent where they would be digested alive.


    ¡®So that¡¯s it then.¡¯  Charlie thought, though he watched and waited while the snake relaxed, wounded but content with its meal for quite some time.  ¡®Move on, there¡¯s no reason to watch any longer, there¡¯s no point¡­ it¡¯s all over.  I asked for a sign, so maybe this is it?  Maybe this was God giving me a cosmic middle finger, giving me a sound ¡®fuck you¡¯ in my direction.¡¯


    His feet though, they remained rooted to the ground until the snake descended from the tree to slither, branches creaked and swayed in the breeze, the hairs stood up on Charlie¡¯s arms as he saw the snake on the ground again and moved to a hole not far away.  Given the time of year, even outside of his area of expertise he knew, ¡®Baby snakes.  A parent dining on a family and children, before returning to children of her own¡­¡¯  He looked around, the beauty of nature that he had always loved without thinking of it, became a grim and shadowy battlefield.  The trees continued to grow, the wind continued to blow, the grass continued to sway.  The twisted horror of the battle above where mother and father died fighting to protect their babies was memorialized only by a few scattered blood stains that would be washed away in the rain.


    The nest above would decay to nothing or be taken by another family of birds which may very well fall victim to the snake, or even the snake¡¯s own children, next time.


    ¡®And God said not a word¡­¡¯  The silence of the beings to which he prayed in futility would lift his broken soul out of the depths of despair and desperation, that they did nothing, that what happened was just what one expected in nature a billion times per day from mountain tops to deep beneath the sea, from megafauna to microbial life, for billions of years.  ¡®Why did I think I could get help¡­?¡¯  Charlie asked, and no longer wanting to speak to any gods or the uncaring Universe, left alone, Charlie began to trudge home.


    ¡®If I had any sign at all, it was that neither gods nor the void care that we are here.¡¯  He thought and while the sun set behind him, Charlie left the woods, went back onto the dirt path, then headed for the exit of the park to find his way home.

 Chapter Fourteen

    Charlie¡¯s return to his home was uneventful, but every step seemed slower, like he was trying to wade from shore to shore through deep water that didn¡¯t want him to pass.  The current of his hopeless thoughts threatened to carry him away, and nobody saw a thing.


    He passed among his fellow men like a ghost, unseen by anyone while they went about their business absorbed in whatever was most urgent in their lives at the moment.  A child in white tugged on her mother¡¯s arm, her golden hair hung loose and bounced around with her frantic little hopping.


    ¡°Balloon!  I want a balloon!¡±  She shouted and pointed with her free hand to a mobile cart where a very ¡®round¡¯ seller in a bright red vest and white button down shirt with a long handlebar mustache was selling them.  He had a little green tank of helium on hand, and traded red, blue, and white balloons for a dollar, his sign said ¡®three for two¡¯.


    Clearly feeling indulgent, the little girl¡¯s mother, clad in a blue sundress and carrying an expensive brown designer handbag, approached the seller and slipped him two dollars.


    They were walking away with three balloons and one smiling girl in tow, but just as Charlie turned his back, a howl of despair hit his ear and he whirled around to watch as she began to bawl as all three of her balloons shot up into the air and straight toward the sky.


    The girl¡¯s mother was doing her very best to comfort her, ¡°I¡¯ll buy you more balloons!¡±  She exclaimed while stroking the long blonde hair and hugging her, but the child would have none of it.


    ¡°But I want those!¡±  She shouted, and Charlie left them behind.


    ¡®I wonder how that will play out.¡¯  He thought, but the matter was forgotten before he reached the door of his apartment.


    He slipped his key into the lock, turned it until he heard the telltale click, then turned the smooth cool metal knob and opened the door.


    The way in and out had been somewhat cleared, but the smell of the place hit Charlie full in the face before he took even one step inside.  ¡°God¡­ even with the shit bags thrown out¡­¡±


    He went into the kitchen, wading through the waste, kicking it aside until a pizza box got stuck to his shoe.  ¡°Oh¡­ gross!¡±  Charlie shouted as he hopped around and tried to peel it off his foot, the cheese was dried, but some sticky, sour smelling stuff had seeped onto it and turned it into a foul sort of glue that stuck to the bottom of his shoe and would not let go.


    ¡°Everything sucks, everything is awful¡­¡±  Charlie groused when he dropped the pizza box back into the pile.


    ¡®Trying to talk to god didn¡¯t work out¡­ were those ¡®signs¡¯?  Was that it?  How the hell am I supposed to work with that?  Maybe¡­ maybe if I tried again!  Maybe I didn¡¯t offer enough!¡¯  He thought, it was desperate, it was foolish, it was¡­ the only thing he could think of.


    The first thing he did however, was find his phone and send a text to Josef.  ¡°Going to be gone for a few days.  We can talk later.  Thank you for everything.¡±


    There was no answer for several hours, which Charlie didn¡¯t find surprising, but then the little ¡®ding¡¯ of a message struck his ear.  Charlie plugged in the passcode for his phone and slid to the new message, predictably, it was a response from Josef.  ¡°It¡¯s all good, just take care, I¡¯ll stop by again soon.¡±


    ¡°Good man, damn good man.¡±  Charlie mumbled, and the next few days were spent in a frenzy.


    On Sunday he attended a Catholic mass.


    On Monday he visited a Mosque.


    On Tuesday he visited a Hindu temple.


    On Wednesday he visited a Presbyterian service.


    Church after church, service after service, temple, mosque.  Charlie got up day after day, morning after morning, and after quick google searches, he sought the nearest religious center or service.


    At every stop, it was the same.  Each time he sought to commune, to meditate, to pray¡­ his skin would sweat, his voice would crack, he lifted up his voice in prayer seeking answers to his only wish.


    The chirping nestlings and their despairing cries, the lumps they made in the belly of the snake¡­ ¡®Why can¡¯t I escape that?!¡¯  He cried out in his head as he lay himself down in bed again after¡­ ¡®How many services has it been?!¡¯This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    The answer was lost unless he cared enough to search his Google history.  And he didn¡¯t.


    Each night, his eyes closed and the weightless, floating feeling came over Charlie again.  Wandering through the fog, crossing a deep river that struggled to keep him back, but unable to stop or retreat.


    The battle of the nest was fought over and over, the birds attacked, sweeping with the grace of angels against a demon, their beaks like flaming swords, wounding the monster again and again.  Charlie wanted to cheer, but his mouth wouldn¡¯t move.  He sought a weapon, but there was no grass, only blackness beneath, even the body of the tree was gone.


    All there was, was the branch and the nest and the combatants fighting for all their lives while the hatchlings cried for help.


    From above, chance would take a turn, and the first bird would die, and in frenzied rage or despair, the other would act rashly, and the unhinged jaw of the snake would reunite the mates again.  Sometimes¡­


    Charlie awakened in a cold sweat, breathing hard as if he had been the birds on the wing, or the snake, or the despairing chicks, his hand touched his chest, he could feel his heart thudding inside his body as if he¡¯d just run for miles on end without stopping, his soft brown eyes staring up into the darkness of his home.


    His last order from Amazon had included a clock with an alarm, but he reached beside him, grasped the long plastic surface, and turned the face of it away. ¡®What does it matter what time it is now?¡¯


    Charlie¡¯s staring up into the darkness would endure for as long as it did, as long as it could.  Little noises from the outside world, sometimes a heavy rain that pattered on the window.  Other times it was the noise of the outside world from those who lived and worked in the twilight hours apart from those who did their work during the day.


    When those noises hit his ear, Charlie lied.  ¡®They¡¯re keeping me awake.¡¯  He told himself, and lay with his arms and legs spread out on a mattress he knew he should have thrown away.


    He wiped the sweat from his brow with an arm that was no less sweaty than the brow he¡¯d just wiped, and so accomplished nothing but smearing the sweat around.


    The dawn would come, and he got up¡­ and again he sought to bargain with whatever gods people said existed.  ¡®My soul is yours if you¡¯ll just do this one thing¡­¡¯


    Offering what he wasn¡¯t even sure he had, always left him feeling strange.  But one thing they agreed upon¡­ their gods desired that the souls of men come and join them in the afterlife.


    Unable to sleep well at night, and wandering through the day like a fog as he begged for help from god after god, it was, bizarrely enough, an ungodly amount of time before he noticed that the homeless man screaming about the end of the world was no longer in his usual place.


    Charlie stopped and stared at the spot and scratched his head, even coming to a proper reason was a struggle for his sleep deprived mind.  So when he stopped to stare at the empty space, he stopped for far too long, drawing dubious and curious looks from those who passed by around him.


    A sinking feeling took Charlie over, and he stepped toward the alley.  The coolness of the space between buildings was notably different from the open world, the constant shade of the unmoving brick structures kept the space there distinctly ¡®moist¡¯.  A bit of moss grew on the sides and a fair amount of uncleaned grime lay on the concrete path between the two businesses.


    Breathing heavier, Charlie suppressed the chill, or tried to¡­ the shudder took him over anyway.  But that did not stop him from taking another step forward, his foot splashed in a small puddle which hadn¡¯t evaporated away thanks to being hidden from the sun so completely.


    He took another step, ignoring the grime, ignoring the stale taste of the air of a lingering stink, he went farther, there ahead lay a wider space in the alley where an old dumpster sat.  The big green thing had gone unemptied for a long time, it was easy to see why.  When Charlie looked farther, a newer building on the other side had been built years before that narrowed the alley again on the other end, the path to the dumpster was easily passable for a person, but no truck was going to get in.


    ¡®No wonder he¡­¡¯  Charlie began to think, then realized, ¡®what was his name?  I¡¯ve seen him almost every day for years, other than times I was gone for work¡­ but I never even knew his name.¡¯  Charlie realized and scratched his head.


    He looked around the wider area of the alley, the debris was plentiful, old cans that blew in, a few wrappers from old food, including one with a bright sun that had a happy smile painting on it.  ¡®Sunshine Burgers¡­ damn, that place closed down when I was a kid.¡¯


    Other than that however, it was obvious that ¡®someone¡¯ had essentially made camp in this spot.


    There were layers of cardboard laid out end to end to make a kind of mattress, and a shopping cart with bottles not yet taken in for recycling.  A tattered blue tarp lay crumpled nearby to serve as protection from the weather, but the space where it would have been erected, if the old rebar poles were any clue, lay unused.  Instead the tarp was crumpled in the corner where the big green dumpster met the back wall.


    ¡°Ah¡­ homeless guy, guy¡­ man¡­ anyone here¡­?¡±  Charlie asked, then cursed.  ¡®Stupid, you can see there¡¯s nobody here.¡¯


    While he continued to walk around the space, looking at various things, as if some of them could offer a clue, he felt a crunch beneath his shoe.


    He moved his foot and looked down, a very large broken liquor bottle lay where his shoe had just been.  Charlie¡¯s brow furrowed.  ¡°I¡¯ve never seen Homeless Guy drink before¡­¡±


    ¡°Hey!  Get outta here!  This¡¯s my space!¡±  Charlie heard the gruff, angry voice and turned around to see a scruffy bearded man in a tattered old camouflage army coat and pants.


    A half smoked cigarette was in his hand, and dirt was smeared over most of his face.


    ¡°Ah¡­ sorry but¡­ I was¡­ for a moment I thought you were someone else.¡±  Charlie stammered, and the homeless man glowered at him.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ who?¡±  The gruff voice demanded with suspicion and mistrust filling the eight feet of space between them both.


    ¡°I-I don¡¯t know his name.¡±  Charlie said, ¡°He, well he used to hang out over there.¡±  Charlie then pointed past the homeless man toward the alley entrance near the church.


    The newcomer relaxed a little, ¡°Oh him?  That¡¯s why this¡¯s my space.  Joey got hauled off, he had a brain sickness kinda thing, schizo or somethin, anyway he got drunk a few weeks ago and hauled off.¡±  A shrug followed the statement and Charlie relaxed.


    ¡°So, he¡¯s alright, he¡¯s getting help.  That¡¯s good.¡±  Charlie replied and shut his eyes slowly while he exhaled.


    ¡°What¡¯re you, stupid, man?  Joey got hauled off to be buried, he died.  Got all liquored up to quiet the voices, and he didn¡¯t wake back up after that.  Guess they quiet now, an I was next up to get his space¡­ now unless you¡¯re goin to gimmie some money or somethin¡­ git.  Got a dollar for a down on their luck vet?¡±


    The tattered gloved hand of the homeless man was thrust out¡­


    Charlie shot upright in his bed, breathing hard as if he¡¯d run a marathon, it was pitch black outside, his body soaked with sweat, and rain pattering against the window, a roll of thunder went over the sky.  His mouth was open, allowing him to pant freely until he lay back down spread eagle on the bed.


    ¡°That¡¯s going to keep me awake.¡±  Charlie said, watching the rain come down and listening to the thunder roll, as he lied to himself again.

 Chapter Fifteen

    Charlie reached up and touched his face, a beard was there that wasn¡¯t present before.  He couldn¡¯t see anything of his own body until the lightning flashed again and he caught a look at himself in the mirror.  ¡°Wow¡­ I was sure I¡¯d shaved¡­¡±  He flopped back onto the mattress and stared up into the darkness and lay there while the storm outside continued to rage on and on.


    His limbs were like lead, just laying there, heavy and unmoving.  The temperature was nominally comfortable at least.  Though the cold sweat of his nightmares remained.  ¡°Medicating with alcohol¡­¡±  He muttered and turned his head to face the wall.  His soft, fluffy pillow gave beneath the weight of his head, creating a valley of white cotton beneath and a hill above that obscured his view of the wall he faced.


    ¡°Alright, it killed him, and I don¡¯t like the idea anyway but¡­ medication.  Take something¡­¡±  He muttered on.  That made him think of the ¡®new¡¯ homeless guy.  ¡®Is he out there¡­?¡¯  The crack of thunder and white of lightning filled the night outside again as the rain beat down on his building and his window to the outside world like the world was besieging his home.


    ¡°I can¡¯t do much but¡­ I can at least do this.  In the morning¡­ medication¡­ and call Josef...yeah¡­ service?  What about a service?¡±  Charlie asked himself and closed his eyes against the flashes of light outside.


    The devouring of the birds came back to him.  The little tweeting screams as the family was eaten.


    ¡®No.  No.  No.¡¯  He thought, recalling a hymn, ¡°His eye is on the sparrow¡­¡±  He mumbled and slurred the line, and almost spat into his pillow, ¡°look what good it did for them.¡±


    Charlie¡¯s body was numb to anything and everything, even rolling himself toward the edge was difficult, the energy that snapped him in terror to a seated position was gone.


    His legs rolled out of the bed first, albeit with difficulty and his feet stomped on the floor.  ¡°Fuck!¡±  He shouted and a surge of stabbing pain hit him.  He sucked air in through his teeth, hissing as the stabbing pain began to throb.  ¡°How did¡­¡±  he stopped when the lightning flashed and he saw the little blue piece of glass sticking out of his foot.  ¡°Right¡­ a few more pieces around¡­ how did it get over here¡­?¡±


    He looked around the room at the scattered garbage¡­ ¡°Right, it must have been in the pizza box my shoe got stuck in¡­ I must have flicked that over¡­ serves me right. But what doesn¡¯t for the world¡¯s destroyer?¡±


    Whether it served him right or not, Charlie reached down, gripped the glass with two fingers, and yanked the glass out and threw it into the kitchen, he heard it tink off the wall and land on the counter.


    ¡°Hurts¡­ hurts¡­ hurts¡­¡±  Charlie gasped and hissed as he hobbled to the bathroom, his hand reached out and fumbled in the dark until he found and flicked the light on, the pain giving him the energy to move to sit on the toilet.


    He brought his injured foot up, lay it over his knee and then leaned over to snag the first aid kit out of the cabinet under the sink, the door closed without any effort on his part as soon as he yanked the little red box with the white cross out for use.


    He took the white opaque isopropyl alcohol bottle out, unscrewed the cap, dabbed some on the wound.  ¡°Pain!  All the pain¡­ oh god!  Oh god!  That hurtsssss!  Why did it have to be the other foot?!¡±  Charlie asked himself as he tended the wound, wiping away the blood, then wrapping his foot with gauze a dozen times around until he was satisfied and brought the tail of the gauze around his ankle and secured the gauze to itself with a little metal clip at the end.


    When he was done, he left the light on in the bathroom and slowly stood by pushing himself up by bracing himself off of both the wall and the sink before hobbling back toward the dark open room.


    The light of the bathroom wasn¡¯t perfect, but it revealed the utter garbage pile that was his residence all over again.  ¡®Clean it up.¡¯  He told himself.


    But the prospect was just¡­ exhausting.  The spirit was willing, but it was as weak as his body.  ¡°Later.  Maybe.¡±  Charlie promised himself and felt it was a lie even before the words had fully left his tongue.


    He hobbled over to his bed, slipped on socks, pants, shoes, and shirt, then hobbled his way toward the door.  The weight of one foot pressed down at the heel, Charlie snatched up an umbrella, then made his way out of his apartment again.  As he was descending the steps the sound of the storm outside grew even louder from the empty and echo filled stairwell.  If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    The rumbling was longer and louder, the light was brighter with more glass to see it through, and it was heavy enough that Charlie couldn¡¯t really tell if there was even any traffic on the roads or if they were empty.


    He opened the door and the driving wind that carried the heavy rains smacked him in the face, the door flew outward from the force until the heavy hinge and the metal closing spanners at the top snapped it taut and kept the door from being ripped away from the entrance.


    Rain battered the side of Charlie¡¯s face, soaking him immediately, for a moment he almost opened up the umbrella to protect himself, and then thought the better of it.  ¡®I won¡¯t be long, and the water isn¡¯t freezing, nothing that a hot shower can¡¯t take care of.¡¯  He told himself and held the short umbrella at his side.


    The street was empty, the only traffic was raindrops, the honking of horns was gone and replaced by the clatter of signs clinging to chains and waving back and forth, their creaking drowned out intermittently by the sound of the sky, overhead, even that couldn¡¯t stop the noise when the loose hanging signs pounded on the buildings to which they were attached.


    The site of the accident where a life had ended was no longer evident, everything from the curb to the light pole had been either fixed or replaced.  ¡®You¡¯d never know somebody had died there.¡¯  Charlie thought as the rain battered at his back when he headed in the direction of Josef¡¯s shop.


    The wind howled onward and battered at his jacket.  ¡®Wait¡­ did I put on a jacket?¡¯  Charlie touched the raincoat he wore, standard bright yellow, and a hood over his head.  Lightning split the space between earth and sky ahead and when it did Charlie realized he¡¯d gone farther than he intended.  ¡®How the devil did I walk past the church without noticing on this bum foot?¡¯


    It was then that he noticed the lack of pain.  He picked his foot up, and stepped gingerly down onto the sidewalk, the water splashed a little, but there was no pain.  He raised it up, and stomped down again.  Again there was no pain.


    Charlie whirled around to head back toward his destination, the rain that had been battering his back was now battering his face, he leaned toward the wind that had been carrying him along, and began to walk against it.  The roar around threatened to drown the whole world, or so it felt to him at the time.


    He held the hood down while he walked on the water flowing over the sidewalk that seemed determined, like the wind, to push him back.  But forward he went, leaning into the wind, holding the red hood of his raincoat down with one hand while he made his way to the alley where the old vet had made his home.


    Charlie was unsure just how much farther he¡¯d gone then he¡¯d intended, but it took forever, or so it felt, just to come within sight of the church and then another forever to actually reach it.


    When he did, he pressed himself against the red brick wall and quickly did the math.  ¡®A sudden sharp gust of wind if it increased at the proper angle could blow me into the wall, a head injury on top of everything else¡­ no thanks.¡¯  Charlie thought, utterly drained of all energy, he slid his way in, and was out of the high winds, free of injury.  Rain still made its way into the alley, the double arm interval he had in the space between one building and the next was not perfect, but it was at least not as bad as it was out in the wider open street.


    A little glow ahead caught his eyes through the sheet of falling water, even without his gift for mathematics he recognized from the size relative to himself it had to be close by, and lay in the wider opening area between the two buildings.


    When he reached the area, he found more than the one he expected.  There was a large old metal barrel emitting a bright orange flame, around it stood several figures holding their hands up, an improvised awning over their heads was made from a tattered blue tarp secured with military grade green five-fifty cord at each corner that then ran to some screws embedded into the concrete that held the bricks together at a the buildings themselves. Two of the three there wore raincoats.  One yellow, one red, and two had umbrellas held out as additional protection.


    When they saw him approach as a shadow in the dark, they grew immediately defensive, their haggard, bearded faces, worn out military coats and pants faded to almost white from their once concrete like gray.  Their hands were grimy and their eyes haunted,  when Charlie stepped close enough that he could smell the foul stench of burning rubber and gasoline coming out of the barrel where they warmed themselves their faces lit up.


    ¡°I thought you might be¡­ you know¡­ in trouble.¡±  Charlie stammered out, half yelling and nervous, three were unexpected.


    ¡°See, told you.¡±  The one in the green raincoat said with a mostly toothless smile.


    ¡°Here.¡±  Charlie said and removed the red raincoat and handed it over to the one without one, the bedraggled middle aged man took it in a hand cleaned at all only by the downpour he couldn¡¯t properly escape, and put it on with the eagerness of a girl putting on her dress before prom.  He lit up like the sun and for a moment Charlie forgot the rain that hit him and the wind that howled down the street.


    He then handed over the blue umbrella in his hand, and then stood there awkwardly.  ¡°Thanks man¡­ ah¡­ I don¡¯t have much here but¡­ lemme give you something¡­ you came out here and¡­¡± the old soldier said and rifled through his pants pockets.


    ¡°No.¡±  Charlie stepped a little closer so that he was almost leaning over the toxic smelling burning barrel, the blue tarp wafting in the wind rattled and ruffled, adding to the noise he had to speak over.  ¡°Tell you what¡­ go.. Go to the Get-n-Go run by Josef, if the big guy is behind the counter¡­ tell him Charlie said he could charge the black card for some meals¡­ I can¡¯t feed the city¡­ but three people?  I can do three.¡±


    The homeless men¡¯s eyes widened enough to catch the reflection of the orange flames licking the air between the four of them, ¡°Are you serious?¡±  The only familiar one replied with a question as if Charlie told them the sun was shining at the moment.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ why not?  What the hell, doesn¡¯t matter.  Go ahead when they open tomorrow.¡±  Charlie said with a shrug.


    ¡°It¡­ it matters a lot to us¡­ thanks¡­¡±  One of the trio said over the driving rain.


    ¡°I better, yeah, better get back now.¡±  Charlie answered, lightning flashed again, the darkness hit again like lights had switched off and the flames crackled on, providing the only light in the darkness.


    Then he shot up in bed, breathing hard and staring at a bright light of day outside his window, and the sound of a fist pounding on his door.

 Chapter Sixteen

    Charlie heard the steady pounding on the door but only reluctantly paid any mind to it.  He looked for his clock to check the time, however it wasn¡¯t there.  Instead he saw only bits of plastic scattered about.  He flopped down and didn¡¯t get up, but the knocking persisted like the thunder of the previous day.


    ¡®Unlike the thunder, I guess I can at least do something about the knocking!¡¯  Charlie reasoned and shouted, ¡°Yes, who¡¯s there?!¡±  He came out a bit more harsh than he wanted to when he said it, but when he heard the familiar voice on the other side, he knew no offense had been taken.


    ¡°It¡¯s me, Josef!¡±  The big booming voice of the gentle giant was jovial as always, ¡°You haven¡¯t been answering your phone!¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right, I have a phone!¡±  Charlie exclaimed and put a hand on his forehead, ¡°When was the last time I checked that?  What was the point, there¡¯d be no messages now, at least nothing new that wasn¡¯t already so outdated it would be pointless to even read them.¡±  He muttered so softly that Josef wouldn¡¯t have heard it, but then it occurred to him.


    ¡®Josef has been calling me?  Wait where was it he was going¡­ when even was that?¡¯  Charlie asked himself both questions in rapid succession after the realization, but all that took time.


    ¡°You still there, man?¡±  Josef asked.


    Charlie gave his head a vigorous shake, ¡°Yeah!  Yeah I am!  Sorry¡­ I just drifted off, I was thinking about something¡­¡±


    ¡°Sure, so can I come in or¡­ we¡¯re doing this like I¡¯m a jilted lover or something and just talk through the door, because I like you, man¡­ but I¡¯m pretty sure my wife would mind.  Pretty sure¡­ anyway.¡±  Josef said and laughed through the door.


    ¡°Right your¡­¡±  Charlie stopped, ¡®Did he just mention his wife¡­ when did¡­ what the¡­¡¯  Charlie clutched at his head, it felt so large all of a sudden, like it was a boulder crushing his body.


    But¡­ Charlie did his best.  ¡°Yeah ah¡­ give me a minute.¡±  Charlie said and sluggishly moved his legs over the side of his bed, he set his bare feet on the cool floor.


    When he did, and stood up, he glanced at the window and caught a glimpse of his face, the beard was back and as untended as it had been before.  Charlie touched the cactus like hairs that were largely unwashed and not even lightly trimmed.  The smell from his apartment hit him full in the face a moment later as awareness came back to him¡­


    ¡°Oh god¡­¡±  He muttered and covered his mouth and nose.


    ¡°You okay in there, guy?¡±  Josef asked with some concern.


    ¡°Yeah just, ah¡­ listen why don¡¯t you wait for me downstairs, give me a minute¡­¡±  Charlie groaned, ¡®Where¡¯s the time gone¡­ why¡­¡¯  He wasn¡¯t sure what it was he was about to ask himself before Josef interrupted.


    ¡°Yeah, sure thing, Charlie.¡±  Josef said and a moment later the very faint sound of feet on descending stairs came from under the door.


    While Josef left, Charlie entered the bathroom and turned on the hot water.  It began battering the white walls full blast, shooting out like water from the hoses he played with as a boy.


    His hand was soaked in an instant after he stuck it inside and waited while it began to heat up.  Within seconds the steam began to rise, and Charlie cast off his clothing, then stepped inside.  The wet thump of his foot on the shower floor, to his surprise, didn¡¯t hurt.


    The bandage was gone as if it had never been there, and while the water beat down on his body, he sat down and moved his foot to check the injury site.


    ¡®Healed clean.¡¯  Charlie furrowed his brow, then moved the other foot over his other thigh and checked that one as well.  ¡®Also healed clean¡­ it¡¯s like the injury never happened.¡¯  He snorted, but a welling concern was growing in him.


    ¡®I know I was though¡­ I know that happened¡­¡¯  Charlie looked up from the place the injury should have been and the hot water hit him full in the face blinding him completely.


    He reached for the soap and shampoo and began to lather himself up with first one, then the other, sliding himself away from the water and directly under the showerhead above him.  When he was ready, he stood up and set his back to the water, leaning forward with his arm straight as a long bar, holding himself up against the far wall of the shower.


    The white lather carried grime away from his body, and though it felt good on the surface, beneath all that he felt nothing but¡­ tired.  His limbs moved slower than if they¡¯d been weighted down with lead.


    ¡®I just want things to be okay¡­¡¯  Dr. Manning thought with despair as he finally shut the water off, it was a half assed effort to clean himself.  Any doubt about that was only turned to, ¡®This isn¡¯t even a quarter assed effort.¡¯ when he looked in the mirror and saw that there were still traces of white soap lather on some parts of his body.


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    There just wasn¡¯t enough energy for Charlie to both care about that and get dressed¡­ so, he reached for a long green towel hanging on a steel rack, yanked it away and dried it off.  ¡®I don¡¯t have the energy to do a decent job at that either¡­ do I?¡¯


    He did not.


    So he shambled over to his dresser, tore out some cleanish clothes and got dressed.  A checkered black and white shirt, a pair of jeans that could probably have done with a wash but which didn¡¯t stink yet, and shoes without socks.


    He found Josef downstairs waiting on him as promised, the sun was out but the air was much cooler than Charlie expected.  He looked up at his friend and saw that the big oaf was munching on a hotdog.


    Charlie smirked and raised one eyebrow, ¡°Really?¡±


    Josef grinned and jerked a thumb over his shoulder to where a hotdog cart sat across the street.  ¡°Yep.¡±  he said and shoved the last of it into his mouth and chewed.


    ¡°Ghot yough won!¡±  Josef said with a mouthful of hotdog and tossed it a little silver paper wrapped hotdog over to him.


    Charlie¡¯s stomach growled like an angry dog, so he immediately tore open the paper and yanked it out.  Chili, with mustard.  ¡®My favorite.¡¯  He thought,  It was warm in his hand, but not for long as he devoured it in four quick bites.


    ¡°So, what¡¯s up?¡±  Josef asked, and Charlie slowed his chewing down as much as possible, unsure of what to say.


    They stood there, awkward, uncomfortable, and unable or unwilling to look up into the concerned eyes of, ¡®Wow, he¡¯s the last friend I¡¯ve got¡­ huh¡­¡¯  Charlie realized, but that made it no easier to look up at him.  Instead, Charlie scanned the street, people were going about their daily business, mostly wearing light coats, and there were more cars than usual.


    ¡°Ah, not much so¡­ where¡¯ve you been?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Getting married, don¡¯t you remember?¡±  Josef asked, ¡°I invited you to the wedding, but you didn¡¯t show, after my dad passed away I¡­ well it was hard.¡±


    ¡°Wait, your father died¡­ when was this?!¡±  Charlie exclaimed in sudden shock.


    Josef stared down at him, ¡°Dude¡­ that was months ago¡­ what¡¯s going on, I know I told you about this¡­ I went to his funeral, met a girl and¡­ look a lot¡¯s been happening.  I sent you an invitation to the wedding, I tried calling you¡­ I even sent Isaac over to check on you, but you never answered.  Hell the landlord got involved but when they went in, you weren¡¯t there.¡±


    Charlie put a hand on his own forehead and sucked in air through his teeth.  ¡°God damn¡­ I don¡¯t know¡­  I honestly don¡¯t¡­¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°I¡¯m sorry¡­ really man¡­ Josef¡­ I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡±


    ¡°Not going to lie to you, Charlie¡­ it stung, you not even coming to the wedding.  We¡¯ve been friends for how long?  I know you¡¯ve got your own stuff going on but¡­¡±  Josef paused and put a massive, beefy hand on Charlie¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°Look I¡¯m always here for you, just like you were there for me when my mom died, it''s just¡­ I could have really used your help when dad passed.  And not having you around to make a toast as my best man, or give one of your speeches¡­¡±


    Charlie looked down at the concrete beneath their feet, ¡°Yeah¡­ nobody gives a speech like me¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.  Really.¡±


    ¡°Yeah well¡­ look¡­ water under the bridge, right?¡±  Josef said, forcing a smile and letting his hand fall away, ¡°The wedding has come and gone, the honeymoon is over and we¡¯re back to work again, speaking of¡­ you¡­ you going back to work?¡±


    Charlie felt a rush of gratitude at the change of subject, and went to lean against the red brick side of the apartment building.  ¡°I can¡¯t.  Even if I could, would they want me?  I walked off the job, walked away from everything, stopped taking calls, haven¡¯t spoken to any of them since then.¡±


    But privately, Charlie had questions.  ¡®Who is she, how did you meet, where did you marry, when¡­ what¡­ who¡­ where¡­ why¡­¡¯  All the questions¡­ all the questions went through his mind, but he lacked the will to ask them, ashamed as he was of what he¡¯d missed already.  So he let Josef turn the subject onto him instead.


    ¡°Oh come on, ¡®Dr. Manning¡¯, you know better.¡±  Josef leaned on the wall with one thick arm straight as a bar and crossed one foot over the other.


    ¡°I do?¡±  Charlie asked and spat with disgust onto the sidewalk.  ¡°Would you hire back somebody who walked off the job and just never came back?¡±


    ¡°For servicing the hotdog cooker or the register or stocking the bread and freezer, hell no.  But how many people do you think are out there who literally wrote the book on theoretical physics and its practical applications for electron spin reversal driven communications?  We¡¯re on the verge of a networked quantum computing revolution thanks to you.¡±  Josef pointed out, more than a little pride in his voice.  ¡°You could walk off the job a hundred times and walk right back in like you owned the place¡­ a dozen times over.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, maybe¡­ but I just¡­ I¡¯m not ready.¡±  Charlie admitted, his eyes suddenly wet.


    Josef¡¯s smile ran away from his face, ¡°Charlie¡­ for god¡¯s sake man, what happened¡­ please?  Tell me.  None of this is like you, you quit running, you quit work, your formerly neat apartment became a biohazard, you¡¯ve been up and down in and out, cut off all your friends and family except me, and even with me ¡®I¡¯ have to come to you.  If I didn¡¯t, would we even be speaking now?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ no we probably¡­ sorry, no, we definitely wouldn¡¯t¡­¡±  Charlie said, and he saw the square jawed head of his friend flinch at the admission.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry, it¡¯s not about you¡­ this is all me¡­¡±  Charlie trailed off.


    ¡°Come on, Charlie¡­ talk to me.¡±  Josef urged.


    ¡°You really want to know?¡±  Charlie asked, finally meeting the soft eyes of his old friend again, though Josef¡¯s face was blurred through shimmering pools Charlie couldn¡¯t really let go of yet.


    ¡°Yeah, course.  Whatever it is is really bothering you, you¡¯ve been acting strange, not taking care of yourself, asking oddball questions, I¡¯d be the odd one if I didn¡¯t want to know what was going on.  You can tell me.¡±  Josef answered, and Charlie gave a series of tiny nods in rapid succession.


    ¡°Alright¡­ alright I¡¯ll tell you.¡±  Charlie answered.  ¡®I owe him that much, I do¡­ he¡¯s married, he might want kids¡­ I can¡¯t let him make a decision like that without knowing the truth¡­ and if he hates me, if he turns on me¡­ for fucks sake if he kills me over it¡­ well that last part might even be a favor.  But no¡­ not now¡­ just one more day¡­¡¯


    ¡°So¡­?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you what¡­ let me¡­ meet your wife, you know, let me apologize for not coming to the wedding.  I¡¯m sure she had some choice words about me when I didn¡¯t show.¡±  Charlie gave a sardonic grin up at his friend.


    Josef looked away and rubbed the back of his head, ¡°Yeah no¡­ no she said nothing bad about you for not showing, nothing at all¡­ she was just fine with it¡­¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a bad liar, Josef.¡±  Charlie said with a dry tone and steady look.


    ¡°Fine, she wasn¡¯t happy about it and she did say some unpleasant things, alright, happy now, enough with the interrogation.¡±  Josef said with an exaggerated sigh.  ¡°Come to dinner, in fact, I¡¯ll do one better, I¡¯ll ¡®collect you¡¯ tomorrow.  Get yourself cleaned up and join me at my apartment.  Ernestine will be happy you¡¯re finally coming to apologize.  Bring a bottle of good wine, and we¡¯ll call it even.  Like the old days, apologize with booze.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah I will, I¡¯ll even do one better and buy it from your shop.¡±  Charlie promised with a growing smile at Josef¡¯s infectious enthusiasm.


    ¡°Charlie¡­ man¡­ I said good wine!¡±  Josef said with a laugh, which Charlie shared, feeling pretty good about that, and he continued feeling pretty good about that for the rest of the day, even after he and Josef parted company.

 Chapter Seventeen

    Charlie¡¯s head was a heavy fog through which he could barely move, Josef¡¯s news of being married, the death of his father¡­ everything was like a blur.  ¡®What¡¯s been going on¡­ why have I¡­ missed all this?¡¯


    The whole day went by like a bird flying past his window, it was there and then it was gone, the moments slipped through his fingers and it was all he could do to rush himself around.


    A visit to the liquor store was in order, and so he went there immediately after he and Josef parted ways.  The storefront was lined with the usual materials behind glass, the bell rang overhead when he pushed his way inside.  Behind the counter was a young woman he vaguely recalled.  ¡®She was here last time¡­¡¯  But she looked somewhat different, her hair was now done in curls, an almost ¡®Greek¡¯ fashion, and much shorter.  He saw a book on the counter that could only be from the University, but not what it was, not yet.


    He ignored that and began to walk the aisle until he reached the section with wine.  ¡°Ah ha!¡±  Charlie said with the lightest bit of enthusiasm.  ¡°Castillo Ygay Gran Reserva Especial Tinto.  Perfect.¡±  Charlie said and smacked his lips, a red wine aged thirteen years and originating from Spain, it had a white label with gold lettering framing above and below a bright crimson name.


    Charlie took the bottle by the neck and walked to the counter where he set it down in front of the student.  He read the title of the textbook, ¡®Theoretical Physics II? Second edition. By Dr. Charlie Manning.¡¯  He laughed, and she frowned at him a little when she saw why he was laughing.


    ¡°What?¡±  She asked while she tried and failed to scan the bottle.


    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just funny to see that book here.¡±  Charlie asked, he could barely restrain the smile on his face in spite of everything else, his friend¡¯s happiness had at least for the present, consumed his earlier dark mood.


    She huffed, ¡°It is a tough subject but¡­ I¡¯ve worked really hard.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll bet, it¡¯s not easy for most people to bridge the gap between the theoretical and the practical even in every day scenarios.¡±  Charlie said with sympathy while she gave up scanning the bottle and began to punch in numbers on the keypad of the register instead, however, he noticed she wasn¡¯t looking at the bottle while she did it.


    It was enough to raise his eyebrow, ¡°Not reading the bottle?¡±  He asked.


    ¡°No need,¡± her answer was clipped and professional, ¡°I saw it when I was scanning it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s twenty-two digits.¡±  He pointed out.  She stopped plugging numbers in.


    ¡°Did you work here at one point?¡±  She asked.


    ¡°No.¡±  Charlie shook his head.


    ¡°Then how did you know how many digits it was?¡±  She asked.


    ¡°I counted them when I picked up the bottle.¡±  He answered, deadpan, and her face brightened.


    ¡°I do that!¡±  She exclaimed.  ¡°My friends think I¡¯m weird because I¡¯m always counting stuff.¡±


    ¡°Mine too, so how¡¯d you end up studying¡­¡±  he put a hand on the top of the book, his palm concealing the drooped clocks of Salvadore Dali that made up the cover art.


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    She put her hand over it in turn, her fingers barely resting on the back of his hand, ¡°Accident.  I got in trouble as a kid for breaking a vase that I didn¡¯t break, I was nine.  To get out of trouble I used math to show that I wasn¡¯t strong enough to have toppled the bookshelf it was on.  My older brother got punished twice for that one.  First for the break, then for blaming me.  Math saved my butt, and I¡¯ve loved it ever since.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s as good a reason as any¡­ so¡­ can I ask your name?¡±  Charlie inquired, and at that she went quiet and pointed to her name tag.


    ¡°I mean your real one.¡±  He winked, ¡°Come on, you¡¯re too smart to put your real name on a name tag in a liquor store walking distance from the University, I attended that school not that many years ago.¡±


    ¡°Alright, then what year am I?¡±  She jabbed.


    ¡°You¡¯re doing your doctoral thesis, and probably in¡­¡±  He raised his hand and poked his pointer finger down on the book cover, ¡°this.¡±


    She frowned a little, ¡°You shouldn¡¯t ask a girl things like that when she¡¯s working, you know, we¡¯re obligated to be nice to you.¡±


    Charlie flushed red a little and rubbed the back of his head, sheepish and a little embarrassed.  ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ I¡¯m sorry, I wasn¡¯t trying to make you uncomfortable.  I¡¯ve always been a little socially awkward and make these kinds of mistakes¡­ probably why I¡¯ve stayed single.¡±


    She chortled a little, ¡°I guess you¡¯re alright, I¡¯ll tell you what, we¡¯ll play a little game, I¡¯ll give you my name¡­ and even my number, but it¡¯ll be the answer to an equation.  Figure it out, and they¡¯re both yours.¡±


    She yanked out a scrap of paper from a loose leaf notebook beneath her textbook and began to scribble, her mechanical pencil¡¯s scraping over the paper was the only noise to be had for several seconds and then she slid it across the counter to him.  She had a cocky little smile that said, ¡®Now what?¡¯  She then placed the mechanical pencil down on the paper and folded her hands one over the other in front of her on the counter.


    Charlie looked down at the paper, then up at her with an equally cocky smile.  ¡°That was easy, Mileva Ricu, five five five, two seven one, zero one two two.¡±


    Her smile vanished as open mouthed astonishment took its place.


    ¡°Look¡­ I already made it kind of awkward with what I asked, and you probably didn¡¯t actually expect me to get it¡­ so I¡¯ll tell you what,¡± Charlie said, then took up the mechanical pencil and scribbled out an equation of his own.  ¡°I won¡¯t use your name or your number, instead¡­ solve mine.  If you can, that is.¡±  He winked to show he was teasing, ¡°Then use it if you like.¡±


    Mileva Ricu blinked several times in rapid succession, her bright blue eyes a mix of uncertainty when he handed her his black credit card and ran it through.  He signed the receipt with a quick illegible scrawl and pocketed his copy, the paper crinkled in his pocket while she bagged his wine.


    ¡°Thank you, ¡®Lola¡¯ or if you prefer, ¡®Mileva¡¯ either way is fine, it was nice talking to you¡­ and if I made that awkward¡­ yeah, I am sorry about that.¡±  He gave a sheepish grin and walked out of the store, leaving the bell ringing behind him.


    When he was gone, Mileva looked down at the equation.  Business was slow, but she still had to stop several times to help customers, each time however, she returned to the math problem.  ¡®I might not call the number¡­ and sure I could just pull up the name from the purchase record¡­ but this is now about principle!¡¯  She thought, and plugged away at it until she had her answer.


    She looked down at the equation, counting out the alphabetical letter placement three times just to be sure when she had the answer correct.  When she did, she looked at the name on her textbook, and back at that, then back to the textbook again.  ¡®No wayyyyy¡­¡¯  She thought, and kept thinking, for the rest of her shift.


    Charlie made his way back home with a little spring in his step, the weight of his despondency had gone away for the moment, buried under the weight of the enjoyable company of the liquor store girl.  ¡®She¡¯d never believe I was the foul smelling homeless looking guy from before¡­ wait¡­ the textbook she had this time, it isn¡¯t the same one from before¡­¡¯


    It was another one of his, but for very different levels.


    Just how long it had been, at a minimum.


    Charlie rushed back to his apartment, set the bottle down in the kitchen after kicking his way through the trash, stripped off his clothes, and began to boil himself in the shower.  It wasn¡¯t filth or disgust that made him step inside, it was a sense of¡­ loss.  ¡®My god¡­ it can¡¯t have been that long¡­ if she calls¡­ I¡¯ll have to ask.  Or¡­ maybe it really isn¡¯t the same girl, maybe it isn¡¯t.  Maybe?  I¡¯ve always been better with numbers than faces¡­¡¯


    The water pounded down over his body and the steam rose up around him, concealing him from everything but his own ever growing disbelief.

 Chapter Eighteen

    ¡°You could just check the clock you twit.¡±  He said as the water continued to pound.  ¡°You could just look at your phone¡­ oh wait, no, the clock is busted again¡­ but what about the phone, that¡¯s still an option.  Check the damn date¡­¡±  Charlie was talking to himself, just pointless muttering and nothing more really.  But it felt good to talk to someone, his eyes glazed over while he stared at the far wall of his shower, it was long enough that when he sat there he could stretch out his legs.  With the showerhead tilted up as far as it was, the water only really pounded the tops of his feet, but his drain was off center, and so at the moment he was sitting on it.


    So, with nowhere to go, the water began to rise.


    ¡°She was pleasant, wasn¡¯t she?¡±  Charlie asked himself, ¡°I wonder if she¡¯ll work out the math problem?¡±


    He threw back his head, bumped it against the shower wall, and didn¡¯t care, he laughed at his stupid question.  ¡°Madness, it¡¯s madness even to ask.  Even if she did, even if she calls it, what was I thinking?!  She doesn¡¯t have a future! We¡¯re all fucked!¡±  He shouted at the empty walls, his voice drowned out by the falling indoor rain.


    Searching for distraction, he began to move his finger over the steamed over glass shower door.  In an abstract sort of way he began to mutter while he performed the calculation that killed everything he loved.  ¡°Siphoning the energy of the electron migration from position to position on the quanta allows the interception of the subspace position allowing transmission of data instantly without regard for time space dependent distance and provides the energy needed to power both the device and with excess enough to provide for the power needs of an entire state for a year¡­¡±  The symbols of his trade went over and over on the door, each time he ran out of space, he swiped his hand over the space and did it again when the steam coated the glass again.


    He didn¡¯t need the past calculations, they were memorized.


    But it was cathartic, it was almost hypnotic.


    And it went on and on as the water rose to the point where it began to seep out from the little gaps of the glass and overflow onto the bathroom door.


    Charlie barely noticed the change until the hot water stopped flowing and became cold, and it wasn¡¯t the cold that did it.


    It was that he had no more space to work because the steam stopped and he couldn¡¯t continue the equation


    He blinked down at the water, it was much higher than he realized, past his waist, but it was draining through the little gaps in the less than airtight glass and when he actually looked ¡®past¡¯ his mathematics and out into the space beyond, he saw a tiny flood underway.


    ¡°Goddamnit!¡±  Charlie swore and reached for the angled chrome brace on the shower wall, he pulled himself up to his feet and yanked the door to the shower open without thinking, unleashing a whooshing noise with the torrent of water that flowed outside faster than the drain in the shower base could take it in.


    ¡°Goddamnit!¡±  He cursed again and stepped out into the flood, his feet splashed about with every step and the water bounced off the far wall while more spread out into the kitchen and into the living area.  ¡°Come on¡­ why me?  I destroy the world and drown the apartment¡­ get it together, Charlie¡­ get- it- together.¡±  He muttered and reached for a towel to dry off with while he reached into the shower and turned off the flow.


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    The sucking noise of the drain which he often described as a ¡®splurt¡¯ came out of the bathroom while he was changing again minutes later.


    He looked back at the floor where his other jeans and shirt lay soaked by the water, ¡°Dryer¡­ fine, whatever¡­¡±


    But when he looked away he caught sight of the bottle of fine red wine waiting on the counter, and he felt his heart skip a beat.  Happiness and dread mixed together, ¡®Josef at least, he has to know¡­ he¡¯s married, he might be thinking of having children¡­ I don¡¯t want to add his son or daughter to the list of lives I¡¯ve ended, I can¡¯t do that¡­ he¡¯s the only friend I¡¯ve got left.  I don¡¯t want to create a life just to destroy it¡­¡¯


    The hours passed for Charlie after that the way minutes passed for ¡®normal¡¯ people.  The mindless work of mopping up the spilled floodwaters of his long shower was, in a word, tranquil.


    Turning his mind off was a luxury and it was more than welcome.  The mop swished back and forth while he hummed the melody of his favorite symphony.  Beethoven¡¯s 9th, he couldn¡¯t understand the lyrics as they were in German, but¡­ it didn¡¯t matter.  He liked the tune and he enjoyed it while he worked.


    He was so lost in all that he did that he barely noticed when he picked up a white hefty bag and threw a bunch of garbage in it and took it to the window.  He poked his head out, down far below was the usual dumpster, he dropped the bag down where it crashed into the open bin and let out a satisfied sigh.


    His feet were a little wet even though he wore shoes, but on the whole, everything seemed genuinely better.


    He went to his kitchen and took up the bottle, his eyes scanned the area till he found what he wanted.  One of his few little indulgences, a black rectangular cube in the back left corner where the counter stopped.  It was raised up to be even with the counter and appeared at first glance to be just a black minifridge.


    However it was something else entirely.  It was his EuroCave Premiere S.  A birthday present to himself, it was indeed a ¡®fridge¡¯ in the same way that a  Bugatti was ¡®a car¡¯.  This had no other purpose but the proper and perfect storage of wine.  Charlie cracked open the door and an array of empty tan fronts of slide out shelves stared back at him.  He opened one, the surface wasn¡¯t flat like a regular shelf, but was instead shaped almost like a shoehorn, in the shape of a bottle with an open oval center outline, each shelf would hold twelve bottles, and for added measure, it had a hydrometer to ensure everything was perfect at all times.


    The shelves were as empty as his fridge had been, ¡®Did I drink all of it?  This used to be full of my favorite wines¡­ this is really all I¡¯ve got?¡±  He looked down at Charlie¡¯s favorite brand, ¡°God¡­ what a waste, I drank it all and don¡¯t even remember it¡­¡±


    He shrugged, put the bottle into place, then closed the storage unit again leaving that one bottle as the star of the show.


    ¡°All of it¡­ all gone¡­ damn- damn- damn-¡±  Charlie muttered and made his way back to the main living area where his bed sat waiting for him.  He glanced down at his phone, it still sat on the charger, untouched, face down.  ¡®Just look, see the date, find out how long it¡¯s really been¡­¡¯


    He crouched down, the solid surface of the phone was solid to the touch, and he slowly stood up straight again.  His heart pounded in his chest.  ¡®Everything is so chaotic¡­ I¡¯m happy, I¡¯m sad, I¡¯m miserable and lost¡­ I called out to gods and got nothing, I flirted with a pretty girl and made dinner plans with my best friend and flooded my own damn apartment¡­ and that¡¯s just what I can remember¡­ just one look, and I¡¯ll¡­¡¯  He swallowed.


    Charlie shot up to a seated position in his bed to the sound of pounding on his door.  ¡°Hey Charlie, are you ready to go yet?  My wife said dinner is in an hour!  You in there?!¡±  Josef¡¯s voice finally reached him, and Charlie cursed.


    ¡°Y-Yeah!  I¡¯m here¡­ give me a minute!  Just¡­ ah¡­ I guess I overslept!  Took a nap, you know!  My alarm is busted!  Sorry Josef!  Listen, I¡¯m just going to take a quick shower I¡¯ll be out in fifteen minutes, okay?!¡±  Charlie shouted and flung himself out of bed.


    He was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, ¡®Fuck!¡¯  He mentally cursed as he rushed from the bed to the bathroom and turned on the shower.


    ¡°Yeah, I figured!  That¡¯s why I lied!  We¡¯ve got an hour and a half!  You¡¯ve gotten predictable again!¡±  Josef shouted with the well known and much loved barrel chested laugh.


    Charlie had to smile at that, his quick steps slowed down, and he began to amble along a little slower.  ¡°Damnit Josef¡­!¡±


    ¡°Damnit Charlie!¡±  Josef mocked, ¡°I¡¯ll wait downstairs, don¡¯t take too long or I¡¯ll come drag you out of there even if you¡¯re in your underwear or less!¡±


    ¡°Want her to see why she should have married me, do you?!¡±  Charlie shouted through the door before stepping into the shower.


    ¡°Har, har, har.  Just hurry up, I¡¯ll wait downstairs!¡±  Josef shouted, and Charlie did as his friend requested, and began to hurry up.


    ¡®Not much time, but it¡¯s enough.¡¯  Charlie said, and doing as his friend requested, he began to hurry up.

 Chapter Nineteen

    Charlie was as good as his word, hastening to prepare, he changed his shirt but kept his jeans after what he swore was the fastest shower in the world, his hair was still wet when he rushed outside the apartment and down the stairs, he put his best smile on his face and slapped his chest twice with open palms, partly to show his readiness, partly just because his hands were damp.  ¡°See, ready to go!  Just like I promised.¡±  Charlie said with a toothy grin on his face.  ¡°See, I even shaved so I no longer look like either a hippy, a hipster, or a homeless guy.¡±


    Josef scratched his head for a moment and looked Charlie over before asking, ¡°When the former two don¡¯t have girlfriends¡­ aren¡¯t they the same as the third one?¡±


    ¡°That depends on whether they have rich parents or not.¡±  Charlie said and they briefly shared a common laugh.


    ¡°Anyway, you look fine,¡± Josef said when the laughter faded, ¡°but weren¡¯t you going to bring some wine?¡±


    ¡°Right, yes I was¡­ sorry, I forgot!¡±  Charlie exclaimed.


    Josef let out a mocking sort of huff, ¡°Seriously, you forgot to buy it?  The liquor store is barely a block or three away.¡±


    ¡°No!  I didn¡¯t!  I went straight over there.  I mean I forgot it upstairs¡­ just ahhh¡­ give me a second.¡±  Charlie flushed with embarrassment and hastened back inside the building, the echo of his feet pounded on the steps as he rushed up, he was huffing and puffing before he reached the door to his apartment.  ¡®So- out- of shape-¡¯  Charlie thought to himself with no small amount of resentment towards his negligence of self care.  His gut bounced when he jogged, and a brief moment of self loathing filled him up like water in a glass, but he shoved it aside to focus on his intended task.


    ¡°Can¡¯t believe I forgot to bring the wine¡­ the hell is wrong with me¡­?¡±  He mumbled and made his way through the path of garbage, kicking things out of the way as he went until he made it to the kitchen.


    He pulled out the key and unlocked it, then opened the door and pulled out the drawer where he stored the wine.  ¡°What the¡­?¡±  He asked nothing around him, the drawer was empty.


    He shoved it shut hard enough to rattle the wine fridge and yanked out another drawer.


    Again, nothing.


    Nothing.


    Not a thing.


    Still nothing.


    He checked each drawer and the wine was gone.


    ¡°I could have sworn¡­¡±  Charlie frowned and checked his other fridge, predictably it was mostly empty, definitely no bottle of wine there when he cracked it open.  He yanked open the crisper even though he could clearly see it wasn¡¯t there.


    He muttered and mumbled and yanked open drawers, a flurry of activity and noise rattling around in the filthy kitchen.  Without thinking, he reached into his pocket and fumbled around for the receipt, ¡®At least I¡¯ll be able to prove I bought it¡­¡¯  He thought when he realized what he was doing.


    But, his fingers fumbled, wiggled and grasped around at nothing but the fabric lining of the interior and the denim of the pocket fold.


    ¡°Shit.¡±  Charlie swore just as the knocking began.


    ¡°Hey, did you go back to sleep in there or something?!¡±  Josef shouted through the door, ¡°My wife is expecting us, you¡¯ve been in there for almost an hour, she¡¯s going to start thinking we¡¯re ¡®both¡¯ skipping out on her.¡±The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    ¡°Yeah it¡¯s just¡­ I can¡¯t find the wine!¡±  Charlie exclaimed with annoyance, ¡°I swear I bought some!¡±  He shouted through the door and, giving up, he headed back toward it to leave.  ¡°I even picked out your favorite¡­ I put it in the unit I got as a graduation present and¡­¡±


    Charlie rubbed his forehead and opened the door, he didn¡¯t look up at his friend, instead he could only look down, ¡°Sorry¡­ I must be mistaken.¡±


    ¡°Meh, don¡¯t worry about it, it¡¯s only wine.  We¡¯ll snag some from the store downstairs on the way up, and you can make it up to me next time.¡±  Josef replied and they walked out of the flat together.


    ¡°Sorry about keeping you waiting, I really didn¡¯t realize I took so long.¡±  Charlie said when he looked over to see the sun slowly setting on the horizon.


    ¡°Yeah no sweat, Charlie.  I told my wife you¡¯ve been ¡®off¡¯ lately and need some extra time, she knows something bad happened, and she¡¯s very understanding.  Still irked at you for missing everything, and for not ever giving her the chance to meet you in person of course but¡­ whoever marries an unforgiving wife, has a very unhappy life.¡±


    ¡°More of your grandfather¡¯s wisdom?¡±  Charlie asked as they walked along beside the quiet street under the orange glow of the setting sun.


    ¡°That guy?  He was married three times before my grandmother, so probably not.¡±  Josef chuckled, but Charlie shook his head.


    ¡°No, actually it sounds right, I mean if his first three wives were very unforgiving and his last one was¡­ it means he learned his lesson, right?¡±  Charlie pointed out with a smug smirk.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ Maybe so.¡±  Josef rubbed his chin as he thought that over and reached the entrance to his store.


    ¡°So, tell me a little about her before we go up.¡±  Charlie asked and Josef began to chatter while he locked the door behind them both.


    ¡°Oh, she used to be a student at our old University, graduated with the same degree you got, we actually got to chatting over a bottle of wine, it was funny, she¡¯s positively brilliant, she plays volleyball for a local team and¡­¡±


    Charlie interrupted when he found the bottle he wanted, ¡°Here!  I¡¯ll buy your most expensive kind.¡±  He raised it up as Josef took his place behind the counter briefly.


    ¡°Cash, check, or charge?¡±  Josef asked at the same moment the register¡¯s ringing noise went off and the drawer popped out toward the gentle giant.


    ¡°Charge.¡±  Charlie replied and took out his wallet, he slid the black card over to Josef, who ran it a moment later and handed it back.


    Josef had the bottle halfway into the noisy brown paper bag before he saw Charlie¡¯s crossed arms and the quiet stare, and Josef¡¯s olive skinned face blushed just a little.


    ¡°Right, force of habit.¡±  Josef set the bag aside and handed the bottle back.


    ¡°Uh huh, you¡¯re just thinking of your wife again, are you sure I¡¯m not interrupting?¡±  Charlie winked.


    Josef¡¯s blush deepened.  ¡°You¡¯re always welcome, man¡­¡±


    Charlie kept staring.


    The blush went bright red.  ¡°Not like that!  Jesus this isn¡¯t college.¡±


    ¡°We didn¡¯t do that in college.  Or at least¡­ I didn¡¯t.¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°Does your wife know about your experimental phase?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t have an experimental phase!¡±  Josef exclaimed, and a soft feminine voice came down from beyond a door leading to a set of stairs.


    ¡°What was that dear, are you back, what did you do in college that you didn¡¯t tell me about?¡±  She had a hint of laughter in her voice, even muffled behind the thick wooden door, and even without meeting her, Charlie had a feeling, ¡®I¡¯m going to like this one.¡¯


    ¡°Charlie¡­ you¡¯re going to get me in trouble¡­¡±  Josef muttered out of the corner of his mouth and headed toward the door.


    ¡°What are friends for?¡±  Charlie retorted.


    ¡°Good god¡­¡±  Josef mumbled, ¡°Nothing dear, nothing at all¡­ just a genius pretending to be a complete and total idiot.¡±


    ¡°Do you mean you, or me?¡±  Charlie asked when Josef¡¯s big hand set on the doorknob and turned it open with a click.


    ¡°I can mean two things.¡±  Josef answered and ascended the stairs, ¡°Get the door behind you, will you?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±  Charlie stopped, closed the door and flipped the latch to lock it at his back before following Josef up the narrow hallway.  The hall was narrow and dimly lit, a single lightbulb hung down with a little white pull string.  Josef¡¯s head smacked the top of it and it swayed back and forth, casting their shadows along the faded yellow walls.  Charlie held the wooden handrail as he went up.


    The door to the apartment was already open, ¡°Hi!¡±  The woman¡¯s voice was now much clearer, though still a bit obscured as she was shouting from the kitchen, ¡°Have a seat at the table, I¡¯ll be out in just a moment.  Josef mentioned you¡¯d be hungry so I thought we could eat first, is that alright?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah thanks!¡±  Charlie said and touched his stomach when it growled.


    Josef sat at the table and Charlie took the opposite place, the table was small, intimate really, round and with only four chairs.  It was a dark wood shade with a smooth polish, the chairs matched the table, and overhead a small fan spun slowly.  Three lights glowed luminous as bright as daylight, the apartment was more or less just as Charlie remembered it, but with a little touch to it that added a distinct feminine flare.


    There were double curtains on the far on either side of the window, and clearly everything had been thoroughly cleaned.


    Before he could comment that the place looked great, Josef¡¯s wife emerged, the swinging door of the kitchen opened and she strode to the table holding a large white pot with a steam clouding the glass cover.


    ¡°Mileva?¡±  Charlie asked with his mouth briefly dropping open before he could make it snap shut.

 Chapter Twenty

    She smiled when she heard Charlie use her name.  ¡°Charlie Manning¡­ or should I say ¡®Doctor¡¯ Charlie Manning?  I have to say, I didn¡¯t expect that Joseph¡¯s best and oldest friend would be the man who literally wrote my textbook¡­ you took me by surprise.¡±


    ¡°Your last name, Ricu¡­?¡±  Charlie asked, ¡°You kept it?¡±


    With the dish set on the table she removed the glass cover allowing steam and warmth to flow outward from the roast in the center of the table.  She then covered her mouth with one hand when she laughed.  ¡°No, my name was Ricu over a year ago, I have to say I was a little disappointed that you never returned my call, but I didn¡¯t forget that the famous Charlie Manning stopped by my store.¡±


    Charlie blinked several times as he struggled to cover his dismay, ¡°Ah, yes so¡­ when did you two meet?¡±


    ¡®A year?!¡¯  Charlie shouted in his head.


    ¡°Yeah, I stopped in a few days before she was going to present her thesis and saw your book on the counter, we got to talking, she mentioned that you came in once and she didn¡¯t know it was you until you¡¯d left.  I told her I knew you, and helped edit your book.¡±  Josef looked a little smug.


    ¡°I called him a liar.¡±  Mileva laughed goodnaturedly and sat down, tugging the chair under her while Josef took the wine from off the table, yanked out his swiss army knife from his pocket and unfolded the corkscrew section to remove the cork from the bottle.


    The cork squeaked while she picked up the story, ¡°He bet me a date that it was true, and I agreed.  He told me to flip to the copyright page and there was his name.  For good measure he even flashed me his identification before he even bought anything.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ wow, that¡¯s quite a story.¡±  Charlie said, then Josef stopped twisting the cork.


    ¡°Oh no, that isn¡¯t the end.¡±  Josef added, ¡°See then she still didn¡¯t believe me¡­ skeptics¡­ am I right?¡±  He rolled his eyes, ¡°It wasn¡¯t until I picked out the same bottle of wine you did and told her what you¡¯d bought, that she believed me.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ wow.¡±  Charlie replied and his confusion only deepened.


    ¡°Yeah, you were my wingman even without being present.¡±  Josef smacked Charlie on the back, knocking the smaller man forward a little bit.


    ¡°Not so rough man, I¡¯m not in the best shape these days.¡±  Charlie said and rubbed his back melodramatically.


    ¡°Heh, sorry.¡±  Josef grinned and then pulled the cork out with a satisfying ¡®pop¡¯.


    ¡°Big oaf.¡±  Mileva said with a smile of affection, ¡°Anyway, on our date, he helped me prepare and revise my presentation and¡­ things went from there.  Before we knew it, we were engaged, then married, you were gone and¡­ then you were back and you were still gone.  My husband was¡­ hurt, by that, and to be honest, even though nothing happened between us, so was I.¡±


    ¡°Dear, could you get the glasses?¡±  He asked, and the blonde woman paused for a moment.


    ¡°Oh, yes of course¡­¡±  She got up in a jerking motion to her feet and went into the kitchen.


    ¡°Josef¡­ I¡¯m really sorry¡­¡±  Charlie said again with sincerity while Josef untwisted the brown mushroom cork and put away his Swiss Army knife.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Charlie¡­ look¡­ we can¡¯t undo that, but you¡¯re like family to me, we¡¯ve known each other for a long time, and for a crazy long time you¡¯ve been¡­ not right.  You know me, man,¡± Josef put his left hand down on the etable with his palm up as if to accept something, ¡°I don¡¯t pry into people¡¯s business.  But that hurt a lot.  And shouldn¡¯t I at least know why?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±  Charlie said and snapped his mouth shut.


    ¡°You should.¡±  He added, then looked up at the big easter island head of his towering old friend.  ¡°But¡­ before that, let¡¯s just pretend none of that happened.  Just let¡¯s enjoy this, I¡¯ll tell you the truth.¡±


    ¡°And Mileva?¡±  Josef asked.


    Charlie¡¯s lips sealed tight for a long reflective moment while his friend only focused his eyes down on him.


    ¡°If I don¡¯t tell her, you¡¯ll tell her whatever I tell you, won¡¯t you?¡±  Charlie asked, and Josef nodded immediately.


    They listened while within the kitchen the noise of things being rearranged came through the closed door.


    ¡°Yes.  Since we¡¯re being honest, early on she worried that you weren¡¯t coming because the two of you flirted once.  She thought you might have been bitter or something.  She wondered if you might be one of those ¡®Nice Guys¡¯.¡±  Josef added extra emphasis on the last two words.


    Charlie shook his head, ¡°Never.¡±


    ¡°No, no, I know.  What kind of dedicated loser gets bent out of shape or bitter because a woman turned him down or went out with a friend of his or¡­ whatever?¡±  Josef and Charlie could both laugh a little at that one.


    ¡°I know you better than that, you¡¯re a good man, not just a nice one who isn¡¯t as nice as he thinks he is.¡±  Josef said with grave seriousness, ¡°I told Mileva as much, but a pretty one like her has always had issues with ¡®nice guys¡¯ so of course she thought-¡±


    Charlie raised a hand to chest height with his palm out, ¡°Say no more,¡± he interrupted, ¡°I get it.  Believe me, I understand.  I owe you both an explanation, and I¡­ yes, she¡¯s impacted too, so maybe I should tell you both¡­¡±  he slumped, ¡°It¡¯s a lot to carry around anyway.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s a lot to carry around?¡±  Mileva asked when she backed into the dining area, pushing through the swinging door while holding three glasses upside down in her hands.


    ¡°My reasons¡­ I owe you both an apology, and an explanation.¡±  Charlie replied and cleared his throat, ¡°I¡¯ll give you both¡­ an apology now, and an explanation later, all I ask is that we¡­ just for now, for this evening until then, pretend none of that happened.  Just have a nice evening.  This isn¡¯t going to be easy for me to talk about, and if it isn¡¯t too much to ask, I¡¯d like to enjoy myself for a little first.  Is that¡­ is that alright?¡±  Charlie asked while Mileva approached and set the glasses down at each seating position.


    Mileva and Josef traded dubious looks, but Josef shrugged, ¡°A few hours more won¡¯t make a difference, is that alright with you, dear?¡±


    She matched the gesture.  Her small, slender shoulders were as casual as his.  Mileva¡¯s clothing was as casual as her attitude, a yellow sundress with thin straps over her pale skin, and short white heels on her feet.  A thread of envy raced through Charlie¡¯s veins that was so strong he almost forgot the bizarre situation with his ¡®lost time¡¯.


    ¡°I guess¡­ sure, that¡¯s fine.  Whatever it is must have been something else.¡±  Mileva pursed her lips for a moment then said, ¡°First we have a good evening, then we get good answers.¡±


    ¡°Then we have a plan, so why don¡¯t I pour the wine, dear, why don¡¯t you handle the food.¡±  Josef suggested.


    ¡°Fine, but I do need some help with a few other things in the kitchen, would you?¡±  Mileva asked, and Josef stood up.


    ¡°You don¡¯t even need to ask.¡±  He said and stood up.  ¡°Charlie, just a moment.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±  Charlie said while his friend stood up and pushed the dark wood chair back under the table.


    As soon as he was alone, Charlie folded his hands into his lap and stared down at them.  His fingers were shaking as if he were caught in a blizzard.  ¡®Can you really do this?  Can you tell him¡­ ¡®them¡¯ the truth?  I could just tell them I was responsible for a death¡­ they don¡¯t have to know¡­¡¯


    Then outside the window he heard it, a group of children running, the city was very much a ¡®college town¡¯ in a lot of ways, but in the way most bustling places were, there was a healthy mix, and lots of young families lived in the area.


    ¡®Josef is Josef¡­ he¡¯ll want a big family¡­ if I just tell the usual lie¡­ but what if Mileva wants children too, what if they¡­ would they bring a child into a doomed world?  Would ¡®anyone¡¯ do that?!¡¯  He asked, and even raged inside his own head.


    ¡®No¡­ nobody would do that, nobody anywhere would ¡®ever¡¯ want to do something so insane¡­¡¯  Loathing surged through him and he closed his fingers into fists.  ¡®I have to tell them¡­ swear them to secrecy, but I have to tell them.  They at least can understand what I¡¯ll say.¡¯


    ¡®Maybe it will even feel good¡­ maybe it will be a relief no matter what happens after that¡­¡¯  Charlie thought, and forced himself to turn his despair into resolve, ¡®I can¡¯t save the world, but I can at least prevent something else from going horribly, horribly wrong.¡¯


    ¡®I owe them that much.¡¯  He admitted, and then his tight clenched fingers unfolded, and his hands lay open, a deep sigh of relief burst from his lungs, like a weight being lifted, or like he¡¯d set down a heavy burden carried for far too long.


    Then Charlie stood, and decided to do his part as the guest, and poured three glasses of good, if not fantastic, red wine for them to share.

 Chapter Twenty-One

    ¡®How long since I¡¯ve done this?  How long since I¡¯ve had dinner with a friend, since I¡¯ve laughed, really ¡®laughed¡¯ without worry?¡¯  Charlie asked himself this question in the middle of a belly aching laugh after the meal was finished.  Mileva had produced a roast so succulent that the meat threatened to melt like butter in his mouth.


    The rich, savory flavor paired well with the wine from the shop downstairs, the potatoes had a buttery flavor enhanced by sour cream and bacon bits, while the air fried vegetable side had bits of bacon stuck to them as well.  ¡®Two out of the three dishes have bacon¡­ what was it he used to say¡­?¡¯  Charlie asked himself for almost a minute before he recalled the first meal he¡¯d eaten with Josef.  ¡®Oh yes¡­¡¯  He recalled the way the then much younger and smaller man had thrust a finger up into the air and declared with righteous certainty that, ¡®Bacon is justice!¡¯.


    ¡®Weeb.¡¯  Charlie still chuckled at the memory, certain it was a reference to something, he¡¯d never asked so as not to ruin the joke.


    The desert consisted of a fresh baked lemon pie with a glaze over the golden brown surface, and that cinched it.  ¡®Everything here¡­ it¡¯s a favorite of mine¡­¡¯  It was humbling enough in that moment that he could have cried as he tried to recall the last time he¡¯d had anything that wasn¡¯t microwaved or cold.


    He did try to protest, ¡°You didn¡¯t have to go through so much trouble for just me¡­ you know I would have been happy just to¡­ you know, I don¡¯t know-¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t know, how should we?¡±  Mileva gave him a little wink of her blue eye to show she was teasing him, and it had been enough for him to blush.


    ¡°I mean you didn¡¯t have to go through all this trouble, good company makes even common meals into feasts.¡±  Charlie protested.


    ¡°Nonsense, I¡¯ll admit I¡¯m still a bit cross with you Doctor Charlie Manning.  But still, you¡¯re Josef¡¯s best friend and he insists you¡¯ve been eating garbage for the longest time.  I¡¯m home all day anyway, and I actually like to cook.  I¡¯m not only an exceptional theoretical physicist,¡± she put her hand on her chest and looked up and away, preening with exaggerated confidence, ¡°I¡¯m also an excellent cook.  Science begins in the kitchen after all.¡±


    ¡°I think that was just chemistry, dear.¡±  Josef interjected with a boyish grin.


    ¡°Josef?¡±  She said without breaking her pose.


    ¡°Yes, dear?¡±  He asked innocently.


    ¡°Hush.¡±  She said.


    ¡°Yes dear.¡±  He made an exaggerated showing of being downcast, but neither could keep their faces straight and they quickly broke down laughing again, and Charlie couldn¡¯t help but enjoy it.


    ¡°So you¡¯re not working in your degree field?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°No, not that I don¡¯t want to, but competition is fierce right now and it¡¯s hard to get a slot anywhere worth working.¡±  Mileva answered with a regretful sigh.


    ¡°After tonight¡­ if you still want to,¡± Charlie said impulsively, ¡°I¡¯ll make a phone call and you¡¯ll have a job within the day.¡±


    ¡°Wait, what?¡±  Josef and Mileva said at the same moment.


    ¡°Sure, I¡¯m Doctor Charlie Manning, damn it!  My name on her recommendation list will get her into any institute in the world, it doesn¡¯t matter if they have a slot open or not, they¡¯ll create one for her.  She solved one of my equations to get my name and number, I know of only two other people who could do that in a matter of hours, me¡­ and you.¡±  He jabbed a finger toward Josef.


    ¡°Thank you!¡±  Mileva squealed with excitement and clapped her hands together, her face lighting up like the sunshine caught in the golden petals of a sunflower.


    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me yet.¡±  Charlie said cryptically, and they dug into the dessert.


    The pie has been as good as it looked, and that led to the present moment.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    ¡°Come on, you know this one!¡±  Josef said as he lumbered back and forth slumped forward with one arm dangling and swaying in front.


    ¡°Who does he mean, which of us knows this one, because I sure as hell don¡¯t.¡±  Charlie said with confidence in his ignorance.


    ¡°Yeah, me neither¡­¡±  Mileva added and scratched the top of her head.


    The timer dinged.


    ¡°Babar!¡±  Josef exclaimed and held his hands out in front of himself, leaning forward toward the guessers.  ¡°Come on¡­ that was a gimmie, dear.  You loved Babar as a girl.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m still a girl, thank you very much.¡±  She taunted him and arched her back to thrust her chest out in a taunt, then crossed her arms and let out a snort, ¡°And your impression of an elephant was terrible, how was I supposed to get that?¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I didn¡¯t really get that either, I mean the hint was ¡®British Imperialism¡¯, how was I supposed to get ¡®Babar the elephant¡¯ from that?¡±  Charlie asked with a snort of his own.


    Josef rolled his eyes, ¡°You both slept through everything but math in college, didn¡¯t you?¡±  He drew one hand over his face in greatly exaggerated faux annoyance at both his wife and his friend, then went over to the counter and poured more wine for all three of them.


    He glanced at the clock, ¡°Should we play another game or¡­?¡±  Josef glanced at Charlie, ¡°Do you want to go on with your explanation?¡±


    Charlie accepted the glass offered to him after Mileva, and slowly swirled the wide glass around in between his fingers, the rich dark liquid slid around the sides of the glass, captured, confined, unable to escape the confines of its container, not one drop flew from the whole, and Charlie brought it up to his lips to take a sip.  It ran over his tongue with a slight tangy taste which contained all the earthy undertones and subtle tastes that he loved.


    ¡°How about if I sleep a little bit longer, and forget all this nonsense?¡±  Charlie murmured, looking down into his glass.


    ¡°What?¡±  The couple asked, and Josef took a seat.


    Charlie shook his head.  ¡°It¡¯s nothing, just a line from a book.  Metamorphosis, by Franz Kafka.¡±


    ¡°Okay¡­ so¡­ what¡¯s the deal, man?¡±  Josef pressed.


    Charlie raised his eyes and looked at the pair, ¡°Alright¡­ I¡¯ll tell you, it¡¯s like stones in my throat.  But I¡¯ll tell you.  God knows I don¡¯t want to, and if you want to know, I wouldn¡¯t.  But I don¡¯t know what decisions you¡¯ll make about your future¡­ such as it is, and what did the professor say about that?¡±  Charlie asked, a long shaking stare was directed at Josef.


    ¡°True information is the ideal basis for decisions because it leads most reliably to predictable and favorable outcomes.¡±  Josef recited from memory.


    ¡°Right¡­ so¡­ here it is.¡±  Charlie said, then brought the wine glass to his lips and drained it down to the last drop with two quick, successive and audible gulps.


    ¡°Ah, but before I say it¡­ listen, Mileva¡­ I¡¯m sorry I never called you back, I don¡¯t remember seeing your call.  But you¡¯re as pleasant as I imagined you would be.  Josef is a lucky man.  And Josef¡­ you¡¯re the best friend anyone could ask for, you¡¯re like the definition of a good friend.  Hell, if they look up ¡®good companion¡¯ in the dictionary, your face will be there and nothing else.¡±


    ¡°Ah, thanks Charlie, really but¡­ why tell us all that first?¡±  Josef asked, clearing his throat and shifting uncomfortably on his wide leather chair.


    ¡°Because once I say this, you¡¯ll probably ask me to go, and if I don¡¯t see you again after this¡­ or if¡­¡±  Charlie coughed uncomfortably,  ¡®if you lose it and kill me,¡¯ the thought came to mind, but he couldn¡¯t say it, ¡°anyway if we don¡¯t speak again, I wanted you to know that much.¡±


    ¡°Charlie¡­ I¡¯ve got to be honest, I thought you were dying, or suffering from depression or¡­ I don¡¯t know, but the way you talk now, that¡¯s not the case, is it?¡±  Josef prodded.


    Charlie nodded.  He glanced over to Mileva, ¡°Do you remember a bedraggled guy buying liquor at some point and telling you that the textbook you were reading was a ¡®dangerous subject¡¯ by chance, Mileva?¡±


    She frowned a little, ¡°Yeah¡­ I assumed it was a schizophrenic homeless man, that was¡­ god that was forever ago.¡±


    ¡°That was me.¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°I looked like shit and probably smelled worse¡­ but that was me.¡±


    She narrowed her brow and gave him a long look, he could see on her oval face that she was trying to put the pieces together, picturing him with a scruffy beard and worse.  ¡°It was you¡­ wasn¡¯t it?¡±


    Charlie bowed his head and set the empty glass down.


    ¡°Yes, yes it was.  I looked a lot different then¡­ I¡¯m only like this now¡­¡± Charlie waved his hand up and down in front of him to encompass his whole body, ¡°because your big oaf of a husband took the time to help me get myself together a little bit.  Honestly without him I¡¯d probably still be like that.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, but¡­ I didn¡¯t really do anything.¡±  Josef replied, ¡°Just a few meals and a little light cleaning.¡±


    ¡°You cleaned?!  Other than the store, I can barely get you to put your socks away.¡±  Mileva accused him and looked with almost dismay at her husband.


    ¡°I just like seeing my wife bend over.¡±  He said with a rakish grin.


    ¡°Pervert.¡±  She muttered without real anger, and for a moment the promise of unfortunate details was almost forgotten.


    Except by Charlie.  He couldn¡¯t forget.


    He wanted to.


    But he couldn¡¯t.


    And when they left the moment of marital humor and teasing, they put their attention on him again.


    ¡°So this is it¡­ it was fun while it lasted.¡±  He said so softly that they couldn¡¯t hear him say it.


    He cleared his throat one more time and began to speak.


    The pair leaned forward intently, his words so quiet that he wasn¡¯t sure they could hear him at all.


    Then he shot up in his bed in a cold sweat, the alarm beside his bed was blaring endlessly, a constant offkey beep of the worst, most obnoxious kind.  There was also a pounding on his door that, loud as it was, was not louder in his head than the pounding of Charlie¡¯s on heartbeat.


    His hand covered his bare chest where the salty sheen of sweat began to run down around his fingers or get caught in the space where they connected to his palm.


    He heard the heavy familiar knocking and knew who it was, calculating height and probable range of motion plus the impact on the door with the most likely noise level, ¡®Josef.¡¯  Charlie knew it before the giant of a man could even announce himself.  But the knocking, the buzzing, all of it was far away, like the sound of rocks cracking together under deep water, muffled and unclear.


    Everything was farther away, and stayed that way, while he struggled to stop his own heart wrenching fear and the hot, heavy breathing that reminded him of the aftermath of a marathon¡­ but without the proud and happy sense of accomplishment that went with it.  ¡®Running¡­ but not.¡¯  He made the shoddy, sloppy analogy, and still hadn¡¯t found a better one before he could, after repeated slaps, at least stopped the stupid alarm, if not the knocking outside that, in its way, was far, far worse.

 Chapter Twenty-Two

    ¡°What the¡­¡±  Charlie stared at the clock.


    ¡°Charlie!  You in there man?¡±  Josef¡¯s voice hit him.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah I am.¡±  Charlie replied with only half the normal strength of his voice.


    ¡°Hey¡­ did I¡­ did I come to your place for dinner last night?¡±  Charlie asked through the door.  He slowly stood up and kicked aside the trash that littered his floor.


    ¡°Did I¡­ Did I say anything?  Anything that sounded crazy?¡±  Charlie asked further and reached for the knob and turned it, swinging the door open and looking up at the man who filled the frame.  He stepped back and allowed Josef to duck his head under the frame and enter the room.


    ¡°Charlie man¡­ what¡¯s going on¡­ are you¡­ seriously, you¡¯re freaking me out, and you know me, I can handle anything.¡±  Josef¡¯s voice was full of concern, his eyes shone with worry, his head bowed down so that he could see his smaller friend.


    ¡°No¡­ nothing¡­ never mind.  Just a¡­ it must have been a dream, just a really vivid dream¡­¡±  Charlie replied and shook his head, afraid to ask more.


    ¡°Come in, sit down¡­ I want to talk¡­ I¡¯m sorry about the smell, and the mess, and just¡­ I¡¯m sorry about everything I¡¯ve put you through¡­ I pushed everyone else away by ignoring them at every step, John, Sarah, Pete, Phil, Mary¡­ everyone I ran with, everyone I worked with¡­ you¡¯re the last one, and I¡¯ve been taking you for granted too.¡±


    ¡°Charlie¡­¡±  Josef said as Charlie turned his back and walked over to the bed, Josef followed, making his way over to the small round table with its lone pair of chairs.


    It hadn¡¯t occurred to Josef before, but the very fact that there were ¡®two¡¯ chairs was a little significant.  ¡®That set can be bought with as many as six chairs, but¡­ he chose to have only two¡­ he never planned on there being more than that here, and so far, he¡¯s right.¡¯  Josef restrained a look of pity and took his seat on the smooth dark wooden surface.


    ¡°Can I¡­ can I get you something to drink?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah sure.¡±  Josef replied with a heavy, weary tone.


    ¡°Great¡­ give me a second.¡±  Charlie replied and glanced out the window, it was late, clearly.  ¡®I must have slept most of the day¡­ damn.¡¯


    He kicked aside more of the garbage in his way to remake the path, sending bottles and boxes and bags bouncing or floating through the air or over the refuse until he reached the little kitchen.


    ¡°What have you got?¡±  Josef raised his voice a little, ¡°I¡¯m not picky, even water is fine.¡±


    Charlie glanced at the wine fridge, his eyes lingered, he glared at it with hatred as strong as the affectionate look he¡¯d given to it the day it had been installed.


    ¡°Ah, one sec.¡±  Charlie shouted and cracked open the refrigerator door.  ¡®Ok, largely empty¡­ no surprise there.¡¯


    ¡®No.¡¯  The thought came to his mind, but even while he denied the thought, he felt his limbs moving of their own accord, his legs carried him over to the corner and then there he was.  He was standing in front of his wine fridge, he pulled the key from his pocket, stuck it into the slot, turned it, opened the fridge and pulled at the tan edge of the sliding drawer.


    ¡®Nothing.¡¯  He thought, almost pleased, almost ¡®satisfied¡¯.  He felt the breath of his lungs release in one great exhale.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Then his left hand, almost as independent as his legs had felt a moment ago, reached out to another drawer and opened it as he had the last, and there it was.


    ¡°Castillo Ygay Gran Reserva Especial Tinto.¡±  Charlie read the label and pulled out the bottle.  ¡°Might as well drink it¡­¡±  He muttered and looked over his shoulder, ¡°How about a bottle of wine!  I got your favorite!¡±


    ¡°Great!¡±  Josef shouted back, ¡°I didn¡¯t drive, so it¡¯s fine.¡±


    Charlie closed the fridge and went over to the counter where the cup and glass cabinet hung on the wall just about head height.


    He opened it up and moved the few blue fragments of glass out of the way, then reached up to the white shelf in the cabinet and pulled out two glasses.


    He set each one down, yanked open the drawer beneath the counter and began to rummage.  ¡°Just a second, I¡¯m just looking for a corkscrew.¡±


    He rattled around amidst an array of useless implements, a pizza cutter, a bottle opener for beer, an ice cream scooper, a peeler for carrots or potatoes, even a goddamn apple slice maker.


    ¡°Ah ha!¡±  Charlie announced loud enough for Josef to hear and he yanked up a little red oval shape with a little white plus sign on it.  ¡°Swiss army knife!¡±  he said and pulled it out.


    ¡°Useful things, aren¡¯t they?¡±  Josef said from the other room while Charlie pried the little corkscrew up.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah they are¡­ but it¡¯s weird if you think about it.¡±  Charlie asserted.


    ¡°Weird?¡±  Josef asked, Charlie didn¡¯t need to be there to know that Josef was canting his head when he asked the question.


    ¡°Yeah, I get the different knives, the tiny scissors, even the nail file.  All those have a practical field use.  The knife can cut small things, the nail file is for hygiene in the field, the tiny tweezers can pluck splinters or even take out a bullet I guess, and even that tiny pair of scissors can cut bandages.  But really?  A corkscrew?  I didn¡¯t know that the Swiss Army was so full of alcoholics that they had to have that feature in the field.¡±  Charlie cleared his throat and did his best impression of a ¡®sort of¡¯ Germanic accent.


    ¡°You may be called upon to drink wine under fire, when you are, you must open your wine with great swiftness, your country depends upon you!¡±


    Josef¡¯s laughter was heartening in spite of everything else, it was a corny joke, but it felt good anyway while he shoved the corkscrew in, twisted the oblong shape until the screw was buried within and then tugged it free with a satisfying ¡®pop¡¯.


    He poured the deep red wine and savored the aroma when it hit his nose.


    Charlie left the bottle on the counter and returned with both glasses, he held one out to Josef who took the glass with a grateful nod, and Charlie went past and sat on the bed.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±  Josef said and raised his glass.


    ¡°For you, anything.¡±  Charlie replied and did the same.


    ¡°To tomorrow?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡°To today.  That¡¯s the only thing I¡¯m sure of.¡±  Charlie replied, Josef shrugged.


    ¡°Compromise, both.¡±  Josef replied.


    ¡°Fine, to today and hopefully tomorrow.¡±  Charlie said, and their glasses went up another inch to signify their mutual acceptance of the compromise, and they drank the first sips out of their glasses.


    ¡°So¡­ Charlie¡­ ah, what you were saying-¡±  Josef began.


    ¡°I meant every word.¡±  Charlie said point blank and with iron finality and a sharp nod.  ¡°I wasn¡¯t exaggerating, I wasn¡¯t kidding, I wasn¡¯t being facetious, I¡¯ve been a shitty friend and a burden and I¡¯m sure I haven¡¯t added anything to your quality of life and you¡¯ve stuck with me.  I¡¯ve just been¡­ I¡¯ve been caught in this fog¡­¡±  He reached up and touched his head, as if it hurt.


    ¡°Everything feels heavy, everything is hard¡­ I don¡¯t have the energy or desire to move most of the time, like my brain is too big for my skull and it¡¯s killing me¡­¡±  Charlie shut his eyes tight.


    ¡°Have you seen a doctor?  What if it¡¯s a tumor?¡±  Josef asked and took another sip.


    ¡°No¡­ it¡¯s not a medical issue, it¡¯s because¡­ it¡¯s because of something else.  Something, some people I¡¯ve lost¡­ it¡¯s just¡­¡±  Charlie drifted off and took another sip.


    ¡®Everything is wrong, that clock was broken sometimes and others not, I ¡®know¡¯ that wine wasn¡¯t there, the dinner happened yesterday, didn¡¯t it¡­ I need to start focusing¡­ I need to think, I need to try to figure this out¡­ could this be because of what I did?¡¯  It seemed unlikely.


    But he couldn''t rule it out.


    ¡°Charlie man, what are friends for?  You were there for me through everything, my grandfather, my father, you were the only one to support me when I wanted to drop out of college to take over the store.  Everybody else was all, ¡®But you can¡¯t waste your brain!  You could do this, that, or the other¡­ you could be rich and famous, it¡¯s a whole new field¡­¡¯ and so on.  It was bad, but you backed my decision.  You even got the third year accounting students to help fix the books, a lawyer to settle things with the IRS and¡­ man not a damn good thing I¡¯ve got today¡­ would be at all if you hadn¡¯t watched out for me¡­¡±  Josef¡¯s eyes welled up and a tear ran away from his face.


    ¡°You saved my family legacy¡­ there¡¯s no thanks I can offer you that¡¯s enough¡­ you¡¯re in a bad way now¡­ I don¡¯t know why, but it doesn¡¯t matter, what matters is you need help.  I¡¯m not a doctor, not of anything, but by god what the fuck is the damn point if we don¡¯t have each other¡¯s backs?!¡±  Josef exclaimed and drained his glass.


    The words poured out of Charlie¡¯s mouth before he could even stop himself.  ¡°Josef I¡¯ve destroyed the world!  The whole fucking world is doomed and it¡¯s all my fault!¡±  It was a shout, it was a roar, it was an exclamation of the utmost despair that had brewed in his gut for Charlie did not even know how long anymore.


    And it was answered with a mute, silent stare, deeper than that of the very grave.

 Chapter Twenty-Three

    Charlie slammed back the wine like it was bourbon and barely tasted a thing.  He flung the glass away from his hand as if it were a serpent ready to bite and didn¡¯t even hear the sound of it shattering.  ¡°I screwed everything up!¡±  He shouted, ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to!  The great Doctor fucked the whole damn world!  Charlie Manning¡­ prodigy.  Charlie Manning¡­ the next Einstein.  Charlie Manning¡­ father of Quantum Conversion and Data Transport Theory.  Charlie Manning¡­ perpetrator of the greatest mass extinction since the Great Dying!  Charlie Manning¡­ I am becoming death, the destroyer of worlds.  Guilty, we shall grow guilty by their deaths¡­.¡±  He whispered the blended verses of an ancient text and let the silence that would one day soon fill the world, fill the space between the two men until he could speak again.


    ¡°It¡¯s funny¡­¡±  Charlie said through a thick and bitter tongue, ¡°Scientists have warned us for years that we¡¯re in the midst of the seventh great mass extinction thanks to our inducement of climate change.  They were probably right¡­ and all their opponents insisted that humans couldn¡¯t destroy the world¡­ and now look?¡±


    He spat a red glob of saliva down to the floor, it was still touched with some of the wine he¡¯d just consumed and it struck the face on a bucket of fried chicken, running down slowly like a bloody tear.


    ¡°One man alone is the cause of the eighth great mass extinction, and I¡¯m outdoing the Permian-Triassic extinction event¡­ well, probably.  It¡¯s hard to say whether or not bacteria will survive, or any animal life, or if it¡¯s just going to be ¡®everything¡¯ down to the last single cell.¡±  Charlie gave his head a slow and disgusted shake, he couldn¡¯t meet Josef¡¯s eyes.


    ¡°What kind of friend am I now?  I¡¯ve killed you.  I¡¯ve killed your wife.  I¡¯ve killed your family legacy and everybody alive¡­ that¡¯s why I¡¯ve been like this.  That¡¯s why I¡¯ve asked those strange questions¡­ that¡¯s why¡­ that¡¯s why I say you¡¯re better than I deserve!¡±  Charlie cried out and wiped his eyes.


    ¡°My parents are gone, you can¡¯t kill the dead, but I¡¯ve killed myself, my future¡­ that¡¯s why I couldn¡¯t really toast to tomorrow, that¡¯s why I¡¯m only barely sure of today.  I don¡¯t know how long we¡¯ve got¡­¡±  Charlie¡¯s lips pursed tight.


    Josef still hadn¡¯t said a thing.  He only sat with his gentle brown eyes, almost cow-like in their passivity and clear as Sherlock Holmes in his focused attention.


    ¡°But I know there¡¯s no hope.  When I¡­ look, when I took that job, it was just supposed to be a year or three of study, measuring the unmeasurable, plumbing the depths of the unplumbed, discovering the unknown and¡­ you know, what was that thing your teacher liked to tell you?¡±


    ¡°Measure what is measurable, what is not measurable¡­ make so.¡±  Josef finally said something at all, but it was like he wasn¡¯t really there, just reciting from memory.


    Charlie nodded along, ¡°Yeah I¡­ I just, I didn¡¯t know what I was going to do!  I was working alone, working alone because¡­¡±


    ¡°Nobody else in the world was competent enough to work with you.¡±  Josef said without hesitation.  ¡°Maybe I would have been¡­ if I hadn¡¯t dropped out when I did.¡±


    ¡°No maybe about it¡­ but yeah¡­ the Great Charlie Manning had no equals, had no peers, there was no ¡®team¡¯ to do what I could, the rest of the damn world barely understood enough of my work to realize I¡¯d changed everything.¡±  He sniffled a bit, ¡°So stupid.  So- damn- stupid.  You know how often I think that about people, or¡­ ¡®thought¡¯ that about people?¡±


    Josef didn¡¯t meet his eyes.


    ¡°There was a cartoonist once, kind of nutty about some things, but he once had an analogy, he proposed a test in which the smartest person in the world was the only one who could do really well.  The ¡®average¡¯ person couldn¡¯t have even understood the material, so they¡¯d more or less ¡®guess¡¯ their way through.  Then imagine that you gave a dog the same test and it would have to guess what it should touch.  The dog and the average person would get roughly the same score within a reasonable approximation of one another.  So to the smartest person in the world, the average person is barely more intelligent than a dog.¡±  Charlie swallowed, a faint taste of wine ran down his throat again.


    ¡°That¡¯s how I spent most of my life thinking of the people around me, barely better than ordinary animals, I¡¯d look at their stupid actions, I¡¯d look at their stupid decisions¡­  There was a cab driver I once read about who was going to die of liver failure, and he couldn¡¯t afford healthcare, said to his interviewer in the book that he voted against universal healthcare because he didn¡¯t want his taxes used for illegals and foreigners or something.  He not only preferred that other people die, he preferred to die just to ensure they did.  He did, or so I read.  Imagine being so stupid you¡¯d die to spite a dollar, imagine being so spiteful over a dollar of your taxes to save a life¡­  How could I not be arrogant around that kind of stupid?  But all he did was kill himself.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Charlie¡¯s fingers shook, as did the rest of his hand, and the rest of his body began to tremble as the pent up emotions, fears, frustrations, and self hatred finally began to shed themselves like sweat out of his pores.


    ¡°I¡¯ve killed everyone, what a genius.  What a God.  Damn.  Genius.  Supervillains in stories always plot for ¡®global destruction¡¯ for some stupid reason, but people always overlook the real villain, the worst villain, the most dangerous villain.  Ignorance.  Ignorance and stupidity are worse enemies than any evil.  Look at me, look at what I¡¯ve done!  I thought it was just a harmless experiment, a little breaking of the quanta for one key experiment that would validate everything in my entire life.¡±


    ¡°Good news though¡­ I was right.  I was right about everything.  Breaking the electron orbit was even more powerful than changing its rotation, the more I could break the more I could build.  Remember what I said in my presentation in our second year?¡±  Charlie asked.


    Josef recited it from memory, ¡°All creation is destruction, you break a mountain to get the ore to make tools, you tear earth from earth and make it into bricks to build homes.  You can¡¯t create or discover without destroying, so destruction with purpose is a moral good because it leads to all the things we have that make life better.¡±


    ¡°Philosophy, right¡­ not my favorite subject, and I was really just trying to tweak the professor at the time.  Pompous windbag.¡±  Charlie recited the old insult at the now deceased professor.


    ¡°I was right though¡­ to a point¡­ and this is that point¡­ and now we¡¯re all screwed.¡±  Charlie said with finality, his body was still shaking.


    ¡°If you want to go¡­ if you¡­ listen¡­ there¡¯s no ¡®crime¡¯ that can account for the extent of what I¡¯ve done, most people wouldn¡¯t even be qualified to sit on the damn jury to understand it.  But you are.  You¡¯ve got every right to judge me¡­ you¡¯ve got every right¡­ to¡­ to walk away from me now.  Every right to take my life if you want¡­ I killed your wife, yourself, your friends, our town¡­ city, state, country, and world.  I don¡¯t have a right to stop you.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ go on.  Do whatever you¡¯re going to do, say whatever you¡¯re going to say, it¡¯s okay to cry, or rage, or hit me, nothing you do in this apartment, will count as wrong.  Not in my eyes¡­ and frankly if there is a god¡­ it won¡¯t be unjust to it either.¡±  Charlie swallowed, and waited.


    ¡°Is that¡­ is that everything?¡±  Josef asked as quietly as he could.  ¡°Can¡¯t you at least tell me¡­ you know, ¡®how¡¯ this is going to end, and how you¡¯re sure there¡¯s nothing that can be done?¡±


    ¡°Because I¡¯m Charlie Manning.  Because there¡¯s only one place in the world that even has the equipment necessary to plumb the depths of the cosmos and the quanta that make it up down to the impossible fields that separate even the closest and most intimate touch of lovers.  Nobody can see what I see¡­ I know what I¡¯ve done¡­ afterward, I tried my hardest to change it, I tried to reverse it, I even changed the equipment, effectively disabling it but¡­ it was too late.  The end is coming, how far away it is in time is hard to tell.  This isn¡¯t exactly time-state dependent, it¡¯s not even necessarily universe-state dependent.  How this interacts with the multiverse is the only thing I¡¯m not one hundred percent sure of, but we¡¯re screwed and that¡¯s that.  Just take my word for it, Josef, this is it.¡±  Charlie confessed.


    ¡°Does anyone else know¡­?¡±  Josef asked gravely, ¡°Institute heads, politicians¡­ anyone?¡±


    ¡°I thought I told someone else but¡­ I guess that was a dream¡­ or maybe a nightmare.¡±  Charlie said as he contemplated the previous night.


    ¡°I see¡­ I want another glass¡­ do- do you mind?¡±  Josef pressed.


    Charlie didn¡¯t move, but he did speak, ¡°Yeah, whatever.¡±


    Josef got up and went to the kitchen, ¡°Hey, I hate to throw in the unimportant but¡­ this is a nice little tool, do you think I could have it?¡±


    Charlie chuckled, ¡°You and your fondness for toys and tools¡­ it¡¯s just a Swiss Army knife, five dollars and change at any store but¡­ why not?  Go ahead and keep it.¡±


    ¡°Thanks.  So¡­ Charlie¡­ just live your life.  If you¡¯re dead anyway, if there¡¯s nothing you can do¡­ then just do things as if you¡¯ve got tomorrow.  I mean you thought this was going to happen a long time ago, right?  So it hasn¡¯t happened yet.  I¡¯m not saying what you did is alright¡­ I don¡¯t want to die¡­ but we¡¯re all going to go out together¡­ and maybe we won¡¯t even know it when it happens¡­ which is kind of how every death is anyway.  You never actually ¡®get¡¯ the final moment, it¡¯s just a lightswitch going off and that¡¯s that.  So¡­¡±  Josef drank from his glass and set it down on the table, then looked down at the Swiss Army knife and folded the corkscrew closed with a little metallic snap.  ¡°Just accept it, you can¡¯t change it, so just live the best you can, make peace with it, not misery with it.¡±


    ¡°Josef¡­¡±  Charlie whispered and finally looked up in time to feel the bear-like hand on his shoulder, ¡°It¡¯ll make me happier, not seeing my best man all shattered to pieces, so¡­ if you don¡¯t mind¡­ would you?¡±


    Josef slipped the little knife into his pocket and Charlie gave a very slow nod of acceptance.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah I¡¯ll- I¡¯ll try.  Accept the things we can¡¯t change eh¡­ what else can I do?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Damn right, Charlie.  That¡¯s Goddamn right.¡±  Josef replied.


    Charlie began to raise his head to the behemoth, fading light came in through the window, orange and descending into the distance, before he could lift his face up to smile, the light hit Charlie square in the retina, briefly sending pain through his head and blinding him completely for an instant.


    Then he shot upright in his bed, a cold sweat on his brow, and fell back again.  He glanced to his right, the clock was gone from its place, and he was alone in his room again.

 Chapter Twenty-Four

    Charlie glanced over the side of the bed and down at the floor to see if it might have fallen at some point.  ¡°This is¡­ no¡­ what was I even going to say?¡±  He asked and rolled onto his back, the sheets rustled under his body when he lay flat and stopped when he became still.  He put his hand over his forehead and stared up at the ceiling.  ¡°What was I thinking¡­ Josef was here, dinner was¡­ no¡­ when was it?¡±


    A bird chirped outside of his window and flitted away out of sight a moment later.


    ¡°Josef was here last night¡­ I told him everything, damn, what he said was smart too¡­  Did that actually happen?  Did it?  Did I imagine everything?  And where¡¯s my fucking clock?¡±  Charlie asked in a rough, weary voice before glancing out of the corner of his eye.  The bottle wasn¡¯t on the table, nor was Josef¡¯s glass.


    To say Charlie felt ¡®good¡¯ would have been a lie.  His body felt limp, weightless almost, his fingers slid easily over sweat slicked skin.  ¡®I stink, don¡¯t I?¡¯


    That never felt good.


    But¡­ he felt different.  The pounding weight of the dying world on his shoulders was no longer present.  His spoken release to his oldest friend, brought about a catharsis that let him move, at least a bit.  The ache, the sense of loss for the world he knew was still with him, but it was like an old war wound.  Something he had to live with, a scar that would not go away, but the wound no longer had to cripple him.


    He swung his legs over the side of his bed and looked out over the sea of waste he¡¯d been living in, not for the first time, Charlie was disgusted.  ¡°God, it¡¯s like I¡¯ve been¡­ no.  No it isn¡¯t ¡®like¡¯ living in a dump.  It is a dump, and I¡¯ve been living in it.¡±


    ¡®Still¡­ I wonder, am I losing my mind?¡¯  The scientist didn¡¯t have the courage to verbalize the question at that moment, but it remained locked inside of his head and demanded his attention.


    But the filth demanded even more.


    Charlie went to the window and opened it up to let some of the foul smelling air out.


    He then went to the shower and turned the water on.  Immediately the clear water jetted out and battered against the lower part of the far wall, as it did so Charlie went to the sink and opened the cabinet underneath.  A blue bucket with a pointed lip at the otherwise round surface caught his eye, he snatched it up and then reached in for bleach and Pine Sol.  ¡°Ahhh, lemon fresh.¡±  He said when he opened the top of the bottle.


    He popped the cap of the white bleach bottle and poured a cap¡¯s worth or two into the bucket, it landed in the empty container with a rain like clatter, reminding him of the sound of rain echoing off the alley.


    ¡®Those guys¡­ the homeless folks¡­ I wonder if they¡¯re still there?  Probably¡­ maybe?¡¯  There were some things that even math couldn¡¯t tell him.  ¡®Well, if I knew more variables like their daily habits¡­ maybe with a high degree of probability I could-¡¯  He stopped.


    ¡°Shut up Charlie.¡±  He told himself and unscrewed the bottle of yellow floor cleaner, he dumped about a quarter cup into the bucket with the bleach, set the bottle aside and reached for the door of the shower.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    He swung the door open, stuck the bucket under the and listened patiently while it began to fill.  He stood and watched as drops raced down, ¡°Approximately two point one gallons of water per minute from the average shower, bucket holds five gallons, just one minute should be enough for now.¡±  Charlie did the math without thinking and started counting down from sixty while he went into the kitchen.


    He crouched down at the sink and opened the doors beneath.  ¡®Yeah, somehow¡­ I figured.¡¯  Charlie thought and withdrew a small unopened box of black hefty bags.  ¡°Hefty hefty hefty¡­¡± he held the orange square box, raising it and lowering it as he spoke in a deep voice, imitating a commercial he hadn¡¯t seen since childhood.  He tore the perforation around the center and yanked the first bag out with a loud crinkling noise.


    ¡°Why do I do that?¡±  He asked and went back into the living area and began to pick up the garbage and while holding the large open mouth of the bag in one hand, he began to bend down and throw refuse into the opening.


    He wasn¡¯t at it for long before he reflexively started counting out loud.


    ¡°Five.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.¡±  He was heading back to the shower before he¡¯d said ¡®three¡¯ not with much speed, when he looked down, he could barely see his toes.  ¡°Wow, you really let yourself go, didn¡¯t you Charlie¡­¡±


    ¡°And¡­ now you¡¯re talking to yourself, well shit¡­ of course you ¡®know¡¯ you¡¯re talking to yourself and so that means you¡¯re not actually crazy.¡±  Charlie said with as much confidence as he could muster while he turned the water off and snatched the bucket out.


    The door swung open and he brought it close to the entryway into the main living area.   He ducked back in and took the microfiber mop out from where it lay against the corner and set it in the bucket.  The amber liquid turned the water a bit darker and the fragrant scent of lemon hit his nose after sloshing the mop around in it for a moment.


    ¡°OK, now to make some space.¡±  He let go of the mop, clapped his hands together and gave them a good rub, and a little grin formed when he remembered one of the first math formulas he¡¯d ever done just to mess with people.  ¡°One hand rub equals twelve joules, human skin is three thousand three hundred and ninety one J/(kg¡¤¡ãC), therefore with a temperature of about thirty-seven degrees celsius and a third degree burn temperature of forty-four degrees celsius I need to raise the temperature by seven degrees celsius.  Avoiding the pitfall of dissipation of heat in the open air and figuring a weight of about zero point five kilograms, if I want to set my hands on fire by rubbing them, then I need roughly one hundred and fifty hand rubs each second for about ten seconds¡­¡±


    Then his inner teenager came out, ¡®So if Superman jerked off in a forest and then touched a tree, would he start a fire?¡¯


    He rolled his eyes at his own juvenile humor, but the bark of laughter came out of its own accord, and it felt good, genuinely good, his chest rose and fell with a constant, steady chuckle while Charlie bent over and began throwing garbage away into the black bag again.


    It was slow going, starting with kicking his way over to the kitchen, ¡®Always more¡­ god¡¯s dice I dumped a lot¡­¡¯  He mouthed the words but didn¡¯t say them while he worked, the rattling bag and foul odor of rotten cheese or moldy soggy chips and bits of bones from a chicken place had become like a monster.  A monster whose weapon was stench.


    As he picked through the refuse with two fingers he couldn¡¯t help but crinkle his nose.  ¡°Ew.  How did I let myself live like this¡­?¡±  He asked and yanked his hand back when a brown roach skittered out of hiding, ran across his hand faster than it could withdraw, and then bury itself under more garbage.


    As his hand yanked back, he caught his finger on something sharp and yanked it back.  ¡°Damnit!¡±  Charlie cursed and had his finger halfway up to his mouth to suck on the wound before he stopped himself.


    He glared at the upright pointer finger like it had personally done him wrong.  A little drop of red just at the tip.  ¡°Nope!  Fuck¡­ you¡­ finger.  You are not going in my mouth after what you¡¯ve touched¡­ I need gloves¡­ god damn I need gloves¡­¡±  Charlie cursed with a shudder.


    ¡°Should have thought of that in the first place, twit.¡±  Charlie snorted in self derision before the cause of his injury caught his eye when it tumbled into the middle of the open space his cleaning had created.  The ¡®open¡¯ space was clearly not the same as ¡®clean¡¯.  A tilted over soda at some point had spilled clear sprite onto the floor and coated that part with a nasty little ¡®sheen¡¯ that caught the light of the day and made it glimmery with its off colored stickiness.


    Sitting in the middle of it was a little blue fragment of glass.  ¡°One more of you, eh.¡±  Charlie reached down and took it in between his thumb and injured forefinger.


    He slowly ¡®peeled¡¯ it away with a disgusting little tearing noise and then carried it into the kitchen.  He set it down beside the others and looked back over his shoulder.  ¡°This¡­ is going to take awhile.¡±  He took a long slow breath then turned around and headed back into the living area to get back to work again.

 Chapter Twenty-Five

    A quick wash of his hands under warm water with a bit of soap, a bandage that Josef had left behind on a visit that Charlie could now no longer pick a date even to guess at, and the cut was clean and protected.


    Then it was back to work, for what felt like forever.


    Three bags.  Three.  Whole.  Bags.  By the time Charlie was done with three bags, he was worn out.  He looked at them all, standing up straight against the wall like soldiers waiting for inspection, the bags as black as a black hole sat ready with their tops open and showing for all the world to see, just how much he¡¯d cleaned up.


    Charlie crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave a sharp nod of satisfaction, ¡®Josef, I couldn¡¯t have done this without you.¡¯  Charlie thought back to Josef¡¯s advice, the man hadn¡¯t cursed him for a killer, or struck him, just looked a little sad.  Like he¡¯d seen a dying puppy trying to survive when it knew it wasn¡¯t going to.


    And yet for all that, it was the best advice Charlie could have asked for, and in front of him stood three bags, each one as high as his waist and bigger around.


    He wiped the sweat from his brow and took an ambling step over to look down at his handiwork, little yellow tabs on the sides of each bag waited for his hands.


    He went to the first.  ¡°Got.  You.¡±  He said yanked the yellow bands that ran within the stitched lining of the industrial strength garbage bags as tight as he could.  The loops pulled out and the mouth snapped ¡®partially¡¯ closed.  Charlie¡¯s foot went up with difficulty, a grunt later and he was stomping on the refuse.  ¡°Ew.  Ew.  Ew.  Nasty.  Nasty.  Nasty.¡±  He said with every stomp of his foot.  ¡°Should.  Have bought.  Boots!¡±  He exclaimed as he stomped it down just enough to pull the string closed the rest of the way after pulling his foot out of the filth.


    The mouth still didn¡¯t close completely, but now it was more like a goldfish¡¯s mouth than that of a great shark¡¯s gaping maw.


    He quickly tied the loops in a bow as tightly as he could, then sidestepped to stand in front of the next one.  Like a drill sergeant inspecting his soldiers and finding errors to be fixed, he stomped the filth down and repeated the process again.


    Finally, with more sweat and filth than he began the process with, he was done.


    ¡°Now the ¡®other¡¯ hard part.  He turned around so that his back was to the three bags and grabbed the trio at the golden bows, leaned forward, and began to pull.


    ¡°C¡¯mon!  Move, damn it!¡±  Charlie ordered, the bags obeyed enough to lean forward¡­ but they barely inched across the floor.  ¡°I don¡¯t remember throwing away neutronium!  Move!¡±  Charlie snarled, ¡°I can¡¯t have gotten this damn weak!  It¡¯s just trash!¡±


    Then he recalled¡­ ¡®Glass.  Some bottles are still with liquid¡­ liquid is very dense¡­ what else¡­ broken things, some metal lumps from¡­ yeah that thing¡­¡¯  He gave up.


    Releasing the hand that grasped two of the bags, he turned around, grabbed one bag with both hands and began to pull.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Now it moved, sliding with the noise of shattered glass, old food, and worse, even some thick, soaked towels that were still dense and dried to a disgusted crusty state.


    He hauled it on, down a now wider path into the living area where he looked longingly at the window.  ¡°Oh gravity,¡± he said in a sing-song voice, ¡°how I love thee, let me count the ways.¡±  Not a chance of getting it hefted up there, he grunted and groaned while hauling the bag to the door.


    He opened it, dragged the bag down the hall, glad for once of his isolation, he hit the stairs.


    ¡°One.¡±  Rattle.


    ¡°Two.¡±  Rattle.


    ¡°Three.¡±  Crackle.


    On and on he went, counting the steps as the many ways he loved ¡®gravity¡¯ the noise echoing over the empty hall of the building until he found the door leading out to the open world and the bustling sidewalk.


    ¡®At least it isn¡¯t raining right now.¡¯  Charlie had that grateful thought to the sky, there were no clouds to stop his eyes from sweeping over the great and endless blue where a bright sun shone down and warmed his already overly warmed body.


    Grunt by grunt, Dr. Charlie Manning hauled the first of three bags over rough and dirty ground around the corner to the side of his building until he reached the dumpster.


    A heavy breath of deep relief was all he could manage when he shoved it up against the side of the big green dumpster.  ¡°Okay¡­ no way I¡¯m getting this in there but¡­ close enough.  One down, two more to go.¡±


    Optimistic and motivational as it was meant to be, and, resolved as Charlie was, it did nothing to strengthen his body.


    So it was more of a trudge that carried him back around the corner and into his building again.  He stopped just inside the door, ¡®Call Josef.¡¯  the thought came to mind right away.  That behemoth and his muscles could move the earth if he had somewhere to stand.


    But a wave of guilt washed over Charlie the moment the thought occurred to him, he barely noticed when the bar on the inside of the door smacked him in the ass.


    ¡°What the hell is wrong with you¡­ Josef has a life, a job, a wife to take care of now, besides¡­¡± He stopped the whispered words to turn the last into an unspoken thought, ¡®you are responsible for his death.¡¯


    The fact that Josef accepted it all so easily was more than awe inspiring, it let Charlie do what he hadn¡¯t done in forever, but the notion of asking his overly forgiving friend for help¡­ it rankled.


    A lot.


    So Charlie shook the thought off and walked up the echoing stairs to his floor again without entertaining the idea for even one moment more.


    He reached his door and found it slightly ajar.  Back to the kitchen again, walking through the path he¡¯d made to snag another.  Down to two bags that seemed full of neutronium, he hooked his arms through them both and tried to pull like a stubborn mule.  His teeth bared and jaw tense, a gritty expression and straining facial muscles matched the rest of his body.


    ¡°Gawd, I¡¯m out of shape!  If my old running group could see me now I¡¯d never hear the end of it.¡±  He mumbled his admission of disgrace, though the thought again haunted him.  ¡®It¡¯d be the end when the world ends.¡¯


    But it didn¡¯t linger long, ephemeral as a dream, the thought came and went, and though the bags began to move, it was slow going.


    ¡°Damn, so it¡¯s faster to do it one at a time after all.  Screw it.¡±  Charlie rolled his eyes and grabbed one bag, he drew it behind him the same as the first.


    Step by step and foot by foot, until a second bag was in place.


    He turned the knob on his door when he returned and entered his home again, took the last bag, and hauled it out without further complaint.  Silence was his companion, determination was his motivation, and his ¡®soldiers¡¯ stood aligned in front of the green garbage bin outside, reflecting the sunlight as white as snow.


    Back to his apartment again, proud, grinning, confident again and feeling at least a little better in general, Charlie reached his door, pushed down on the handle of his door to enter again.  He closed the door behind him and looked over at the sea of trash that still remained.  ¡°Okay¡­ okay Charlie, it wasn¡¯t much, even if it felt like it was¡­ but it was a start.  And there¡¯s a lot more you can do once you get this clear¡­ you¡¯re not dead yet.  Nobody but the dead are dead, so don¡¯t act like you¡¯ve already joined them.¡±  He smirked a bit at his sophistry, bemused by his own self motivating half taunt.


    He bent his leg back at the knee and kicked the door audibly hard enough that it slammed and rattled the floor.  ¡°More vigor left in me than I thought.¡±  He said and stretched his sore arms up over his head, interlocking his fingers and arching his back.


    Whether he was lying or not, even he didn¡¯t know.


    He was still trying to work that out when he heard the familiar rhythmic noise of ¡®buzz¡­. buzz¡­ buzz¡­¡¯ begin again, coming from a black alarm clock, half muffled and buried under some trash at the head of his bed.

 Chapter Twenty-Six

    Charlie listened to the buzzing sound of the alarm, and tried not to.  He picked up the mop and focused on the sound of water falling from the blue and white microfibers back into the bucket and began to push the mop around the segment of the floor he¡¯d cleaned.  Roaches skittered away and filled him with disgust.


    He turned his face a little away from what he was doing, not wanting to see how filthy the mop was, either looking to the side or down at the path ahead¡­ neither of which was pleasant in his mind.


    ¡®I will do this.  I will get this done.  It¡¯s not a big victory, it¡¯s a small one, it¡¯s a nothing one, but it¡¯s mine.¡¯  Charlie reassured himself and pushed down hard on the long white pole to which the strands of cloth were attached.


    Nothing about it felt fantastic, but he zoned out in the moment and ignored the buzzing well enough eventually.  He took the mop up, soaked it in the water, and repeated the process.  His best efforts however, had cleaned up only a bare minimum. He looked again.  A quick calculation in his head based on the known square footage of his apartment and the known length of his foot and the average footfall, ¡®I¡¯ve done one hundred square feet¡­ that¡¯s kind of pathetic.  But it¡¯s one hundred square feet that wasn¡¯t clean yesterday.¡¯


    He picked up the bucket, took it to the bathroom and dumped the water down the toilet where it drained away with a gurgling noise, the filthy gray would have filled him with nausea if it weren¡¯t for the fact that the strong scent of pine kept the smell hidden.  ¡®If it smells clean, it is clean.¡¯  The words came to mind that one of his less clean friends had said when he explained why he febreezed his clothes rather than doing laundry more often.


    Blatantly false as it was, Charlie couldn¡¯t abide by it, and coined his own phrase at just that moment, ¡®If it doesn¡¯t smell, at least it doesn¡¯t stink.¡¯  He snorted at the pointed sophistry and slid the door of the shower open, then turned on the hot water again, the round showerhead sprayed water out on full blast.


    ¡®Wait, when was the last time I did laundry?¡¯  Charlie asked and looked down at his clothes, ¡®Dinner, right?  My dinner with Josef and Mileva¡­ but wasn¡¯t that just a dream?  I mean I had to tell Josef later¡­ maybe I should stop by the liquor store.¡¯  The idea of a drink was pleasant enough to make him smack his lips.


    Then the noise of a heavier waterfall echoed in the rectangular shower and he glanced down.  ¡°Shit!¡±  He cursed, the white bucket was now overflowing, he darted his hand out and tilted it forward, dumping half of the eight gallon bucket out before a grunt of effort had it hefted over the handspand high lip of the shower base.


    He hefted it past the door, splashing his shoes and soaking his feet before swinging the shower door closed and leaving the water running.


    A flurry of activity later the water was now white as snow from additional cleaners and the mop was sweeping over the space of his apartment, his shoulders strained and his body ached.  But determination took over.  ¡®I will not die in filth.  I can¡¯t make it right, but dying in dirt and grim and disgusting hovel like conditions just makes it nastier for everybody else too.¡¯  So he scrubbed.


    The buzzing sound was gone.


    He scrubbed.


    Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    The ¡®floor¡¯ at least part of it, was now completely visible and the tan wooden surface where he¡¯d cleaned was now sparkling enough that it caught the sun through the window and actually created ¡®glare¡¯.


    The rest of the room remained a wreck.


    ¡®But this was a nice start¡­ I think I can reward myself a little.¡¯  It was such a delightful thought, a real ¡®reward¡¯ for himself had been a long time coming.


    He took off his clothing and went to the little closet-like space where his washer and dryer sat and opened up the washer.  The tell tale ¡®thunk¡¯ like noise of the little security latch echoed for a moment when he opened the top.


    Then Charlie took off his clothes and threw them in, overhead there was a small shelf where liquid detergent sat, he plucked the blue bottle from overhead, opened the white cap with a quick slap that spun it up the screw shape and popped it off.  He caught the top, tilted it, and poured the bluish liquid into the measuring cap and poured it over his clothing.


    He put the cap back in place, slapped a good spin the opposite direction to secure it again, closed the washer and turned it on after setting it to a small load and then went back to the shower where the water still ran.


    The water burned a little bit at first, but the reddening of his skin was a small price to pay for the supreme comfort of almost boiling himself in the torrential downpour of the high powered showerhead.


    The tops of his feet began to itch, he reached up and then tilted the showerhead down so that it was aimed at his feet.  The heat scratched that itching sensation.  Charlie sighed in comfort and then raised the head up again.


    He reached for the green bottle of Irish Spring body wash and turned the water of the shower off while he lathered himself up.  ¡°Ugh¡­¡± Charlie shuddered while he looked down at his protruding gut, ¡°I feel gross.  I hate this.¡±  He mumbled and put a hand on his belly, pushing the flesh of his palm to the flesh of his gut, his gut gave easily and jiggled a little.  He grabbed the fat and shook his head.  ¡°Nope.  I don¡¯t have to let myself go farther¡­¡±  He looked down at the lathered flesh and wished it away.


    It went nowhere.


    He turned the water back on and it began to assault his body, carrying away the thick lather he¡¯d worked into his skin and the filth with it.


    He turned around to do his backside and when he was completely clean, he sat and enjoyed the feel of hot water for its own sake.


    The minutes passed quickly for him, sitting beneath the water with his legs crossed and head bowed, it was as serene as possible and there was nothing to distract him from nothingness at all.


    Through his mind ran thoughts of all his past experiments, the delving of the quanta, proving that he could reverse electron spin and how it could be used for limitless long range communication and replace the traditional binary code with electron shift calculations around protons.  The release of the first commercially viable quantum computer and the acceleration of the internet speeds, even the instant control of probes that were leaving the solar system.


    ¡°No more waiting for information to take years to return via radio waves, no more signal loss, no more slow downloads¡­¡±  He chuckled and raised his head with pride in all his accomplishments.


    Charlie impulsively began to laugh uproariously in the water when a favorite memory came to mind.


    ¡°Here, Josef, take a look at this.¡±  He¡¯d said and slid a stack of papers across the coffee shop table to his friend.


    Josef¡¯s eyes, normally soft as that of a cow, became hard and focused and darted over the page, his finger sliding steadily forward to guide his eyes that much faster, the noise of each rustling page shifting as the brilliant mind in a behemoth body tore through the work.


    ¡°What do you think?¡±  Charlie remembered catching his own shit eating smug grin, translucent in the glass window of the campus coffee shop.


    Josef set the paper down, took a sip out of the white cup with the green mermaid on it, smacked his lips, sighed, folded his hands with fingers interlocked over the top of the papers and said,


    ¡®Now porn downloads will be instant no matter how large the files are.¡¯


    Charlie laughed enough to turn every head in the busy shop, and it made him laugh again in the moment as water cascaded down his face like a limitless supply of happy tears.


    The buzz hit his ear to interrupt the moment, ¡®Laundry.¡¯  Charlie said and stood up, he turned the handle of the shower and stepped out, sliding the door closed behind himself and then snatching a towel he quickly dried his body off and went out into the main room, then over to the washer.


    The machine was shaking and rattling as it went through the last minutes of the spin cycle.  Charlie reached down to tug lightly on the lid, but the autolock feature was engaged and there was nothing he could do to open the door without stopping the process.


    ¡°Damn it!  I could have sworn¡­¡±  Charlie muttered, it wouldn¡¯t be long.  However, that didn¡¯t make it less annoying.


    Then he heard it again, but it was behind him.


    The buzzing came from the floor at the head of his bed as if it had never stopped.

 Chapter Twenty-Seven

    Charlie faced the white top of his washing machine while it rattled and thudded along in the final stages of the spin cycle, ¡®Things¡­ they¡¯re not right.  Not right, not right, not right, not right, not right, not right, not right¡­¡¯  He spoke in time with the cyclical thudding beneath his eyes, it wasn¡¯t that he felt bad.  Or that he felt insane, his heartbeat was in fact quite peaceful.  He touched one hand to his bare chest just over his heart to confirm the calmness of his present state.


    But that sense of wrongness wasn¡¯t gone.  In its place was academic curiosity, almost idle, detached.


    ¡®If things were wrong, shouldn¡¯t I have noticed before now?¡¯  He asked the question just as the clothing began to finally slow down in the machine.  The rapid spin became slow, the slow became nothing.  ¡®Only the Earth spins now¡­ and the solar system, and the galaxy¡­ all caught in the gravity of¡­ god shut up¡­¡¯  He told himself to stop thinking, for once.  Charlie flipped up the lid and yanked the clothing out, popped open the dryer, and flung the load inside.  He set it for ninety minutes on high heat and mashed the button with his thumb, true to form the machine began the long tumbling cycle.


    ¡°Now¡­ to deal with you.¡±  He said when he spun on his heel to stare at the source of the buzz.  At least his path to the bed was clear, the wood beneath his feet was warm and comfortable, the light gleamed off the beading water on his freshly washed feet, his limbs swung with confidence as if he were a bully about to pick on a poor victim.


    The buzzing was like a bothersome barking dog hiding behind a fence, like a little thing certain of its safety.  ¡°You¡¯re no match for me, Alarm Clock.¡±  He said and when he reached the head of his bed he bent over and began to toss things aside.  The bedside table had to be moved away, but that was no obstacle.


    ¡°Nothing will save you now.¡±  He taunted the soulless device and threw pizza boxes, buckets, chicken nugget containers, paper bags stained dark with old grease and even a few clothes that he had to stop to hold up and look at.  A shirt hung loose between two fingers.


    It was a dark brown now.


    ¡°This¡­ this used to be white.  Dis-gust-ing.¡±  He tossed it off into the ¡®replacement pile¡¯ that was starting to form and smacked aside the roaches that scattered at the approach.  ¡°Flee little bug bastards, hide for now¡­ I will come for you with roach traps and motels you will check into and never check out of.¡±  He pronounced with the mockery of a divine voice thick on his tongue.


    And then there it was, buried deep, absurdly deep, was a little black square about four fingers thick, buzzing away.


    He smacked the top to stop the alarm.


    It kept buzzing.


    ¡°Arguing with me?  Bad move.¡±  Charlie said and picked it up, holding it in the palm of his hand he brought the other hand high overhead and slapped it down on the surface.


    The buzzing kept going.


    ¡°Okay¡­ ah¡­ now that I think about it, why do I even need you?  I¡¯m not ¡®working¡¯ and I haven¡¯t been running in¡­¡± He looked down at his belly, he could no longer see his own penis, ¡°too long.¡±


    ¡°Okay maybe I should start running again, but still, I don¡¯t need ¡®you¡¯ for that.¡±  Charlie told the alarm clock.


    ¡°Nothing to say?¡±  He smirked, it had plenty to say.


    It buzzed on, the buzz, followed by silence, followed by buzzing was almost a mockery of his own mockery.


    ¡°Bye bye then.¡±  He said and grabbing the black cord that kept it connected to the outlet, Charlie gave it a firm yank and went to the window, he held it out with both hands, poked his head outside to look down to ensure it was clear, then dropped it.


    ¡°Thirty-two feet per second.  One.  Two.¡±  Crash.  The thunderous echo of the little clock smacking into the now empty dumpster was satisfying enough to bring a smug look to Charlie¡¯s face.  ¡°That takes care of that.¡±


    Then he noticed something¡­The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He didn¡¯t hear the tumble.


    He looked behind him over to the little space where the dryer sat, and it sat in silence.


    Charlie scratched the top of his head and went over to where it sat, then opened the door to check, his hand went in and touched the clothing.  ¡®Not dry¡­ not completely.¡¯


    He turned it on for another thirty minutes, and with nothing else to do, he waited.


    And waited.


    And then it was done.


    He opened the dryer with a quick tug followed by the click inside the door and pulled out his now dry clothing.


    ¡®Did I really spend that much time on that stupid clock?¡¯  Charlie asked himself while he began to get dressed again.


    He glanced at the pile while he pulled on black and white striped shirt and began to button it up.


    His underwear, pants, socks, and shoes followed, then from there without answering his own question, he turned the handle of his door and exited the room.


    ¡®Good wine awaits.¡¯  Charlie told himself and he descended the steps with almost a jaunty stroll.


    The sky had a morning red to it and a distant sun slowly coming up on the horizon, a welcome sight a thousand times over.  The hazy clouds drifted along and people moved about their oblivious lives, and to each of them he passed, men and women in business suits, young women in dresses with their hair done up or hanging loose, children walking with their parents to school or students from the University trying to stagger toward classes they were probably going to be late for.


    The world went on, and to them all, Charlie did his best to present a happy face.  He¡¯d lost his more chiseled features with the growth of fat and the lack of exercise, giving his smile a cherub like appearance, or so he thought when he caught his own reflection.


    He gave a wave when he passed familiar shops and a smile to strangers, though it troubled him a little that his walk had become closer to a waddle or a shamble.  However, he did his best to appear cheerful.


    ¡®I¡¯m allowed to be happy¡­ at the very least I can do that much, and maybe make the people around me a little more cheerful¡­ whatever we can enjoy before the end, that¡¯s not a bad thing.  Right?¡¯  Charlie asked himself in his own quiet way.


    The bell just inside the liquor store rang when he entered and he immediately looked to see who was behind the counter.  ¡®Did she quit the store when she got married?  Or¡­ wait did I make that phone call for her so she could get a job¡­ or didn¡¯t I?  I¡¯ll have to ask Josef.  Or maybe her, maybe I should stop by their home.  Bring over a bottle of wine for them after I¡¯ve had one for myself.¡¯  It was a pleasant enough thought to make him smile, though behind the counter was not Mileva, but an older man with a gray smattering of hair that showed he wasn¡¯t that great at shaving anymore, having missed half his face.


    He had a head that would be truthfully described as bald, despite his attempt at a combover that wasn¡¯t fooling anyone.  He wore casual clothes, a button down shirt and jeans, and had a bit of an old man paunch to himself and a frown that seemed painted on his face while he stared down at a small book of crossword puzzles folded with the front cover under the back and tapped a pencil impatiently on the paper.


    He looked up, saw Charlie, and then went back to what he was doing.


    Charlie returned the favor and ignored the old man, going to the wine section of the store, he snatched up two expensive bottles and went to the counter where he set both down.  The old man at the register either ignored him still, or just didn¡¯t notice Charlie¡¯s presence.


    ¡°Having a little trouble?¡±  Charlie asked.


    The old man grunted.  ¡°Whatta you care?¡±


    Charlie shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t, but I¡¯d like to make my purchase, but I used to do a lot of crossword puzzles, lay it on me.¡±


    ¡°Six letter word for fate.¡±  The old man spat out without hesitation.


    ¡°Doomed.¡±  Charlie answered immediately.


    The bushy gray eyebrows furrowed.


    ¡°That was fast¡­¡±  The old man said and wrote it out, then gave a satisfied nod.  ¡°Looks right though.  Want another?¡±


    ¡°Sure, why not?¡±  Charlie shrugged, ¡°I don¡¯t have to work so¡­ fire away old man.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not that old.¡±  The old man said, ¡°I¡¯m sixty-eight.¡±


    ¡°Then we have a different idea of what ¡®old¡¯ means.¡±  Charlie teased and the frown slowly faded away.


    ¡°Fine, system of question asking, seven letters.¡±  The old man shot out.


    ¡°Science.¡±  Charlie replied without pause.


    So it went for several minutes until the old man put the pencil down.  ¡°You weren¡¯t kidding¡­ you¡¯ve done a lot of these.¡±  The old man said and marked the page with a slip of paper.  He closed the book and set it aside to scan Charlie¡¯s dark bottles.


    ¡°Five percent discount.  For the help.¡±  The old man said and then held his hand out to accept the black card Charlie handed over to him.


    ¡°Thanks.¡±  Charlie flashed his cherubic grin and the old man swiped the card and handed it back.


    ¡°Hey, is¡­ does Mileva still work here, or did she quit?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Who?¡± The old man asked while he shook open two long brown bags.


    ¡°Slender blonde girl used to work here when she was attending college.  Studied the practical applications of theoretical physics.  I know she got married and graduated, she mentioned spending time at home but¡­ maybe she still worked here part time?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Oh¡­ ah¡­ I think I know the one.  Yeah, she quit a long time ago.¡±  The old man answered, ¡°Before I started, but the owner used to talk about her, don¡¯t know where she is now but¡­ not here and that¡¯s the sum of how much of my business it is.¡±


    ¡°Right, figures.¡±  Charlie said and when the old man put the two brown bags together into one large plastic one with handles, Charlie accepted it.  The bag crinkled a bit and the weight hit all of a sudden when it was removed from the counter.  ¡°See you.¡±  He said with a polite smile and nod of his head and headed for the exit.


    ¡°Now¡­ back home for a drink and¡­ yeah I¡¯ll order in but maybe something better¡­ something ¡®not¡¯ heart attack inducing.¡±  Charlie muttered when he left the building and the old man behind and started to head home.


    The sun¡¯s orange glow was there, just as he¡¯d left it, far in the distance as it began to descend on the world.  It had done this since time immemorial, its fading glow still warming to him as he made his way back home again.


    But the more he thought about it, and the more ¡®off¡¯ that felt to Charlie¡¯s mind, it plagued him all the way home.  It plagued him when he went back up the stairs when he turned the knob on the door to his apartment, and it plagued him when he went inside, where a little buzzing noise greeted him from the bedside table.

 Chapter Twenty-Eight

    Charlie saw the alarm, he heard the alarm, but he did not ¡®believe¡¯ the alarm.  He stood there just past the door to his flat.  ¡°Charlie!¡±  He heard the voice from the kitchen area.


    ¡°Josef?  What are you doing here?¡±  Charlie asked, briefly rustling the bag to bring his hand up and scratch his head.


    ¡°You gave me a key, remember?¡±  Josef said from the other room, ¡°You told me to come by, the shop is closed right now thanks to that accident¡­ poor kid¡­¡±


    Charlie could hear the sympathy, the pity in his friend¡¯s voice.


    ¡°Accident?¡±  Charlie asked, ¡°What accident?¡±  He walked away from the door and then into the kitchen where he found the big bear of a man hunched over a cutting board.


    ¡°Drunk driver, it hit someone, killed a little girl, some of the debris did some damage to the shop.  I¡¯m closed for the next two days while they do repairs¡­ I want to do something nice for her but¡­ times are tight.¡±  Josef said and shrugged it off.


    ¡°Wait¡­ when did I give you a key¡­?¡±  Charlie asked, searching his memory.


    ¡°God, forever ago, man.  I hope you don¡¯t mind that I used it, but you mentioned wanting to lose¡­ well don¡¯t make me say it¡­¡±  Josef turned around and pointed the slender vegetable knife to the gut hanging off of Charlie¡¯s body.


    ¡°Ah¡­ Josef¡­¡±  Charlie pursed his lips when Josef turned his back again and the sound of chopping began again.


    ¡°Yeah, Charlie?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡®I didn¡¯t give you a key?  Did you replace my alarm without telling me?  When did I tell you these things?  Did I have dinner with you and Mileva?  What day is it?¡¯  A lot of questions ran through Charlie¡¯s mind.


    Charlie didn¡¯t say anything.  Josef stopped.


    ¡°Listen, what you told me¡­ I know I didn¡¯t handle it the best¡­  How does anyone deal with the knowledge that the world is going to end?  That their best friend is the one to cause it?  But the best I can do is live all the way to the fullest¡­ to the last hour, whatever it is.  I don¡¯t have to set affairs straight because there won¡¯t be anyone to inherit.  I don¡¯t have to save for retirement because I probably won¡¯t have one.¡±  Josef held a small tupperware container in hand and swept the vegetables he was chopping, off the edge to tumble into the little opaque rectangle.


    That brought Charlie up short.  ¡°Josef¡­ you handled that better than anybody could have asked for, really¡­ I¡­ I¡¯m not okay with what I¡¯ve done.  I¡¯m not okay with killing the people that I love, I¡¯m not okay with the people that I love, dying before they should¡­ no decent person could be okay with that.  But¡­ do you remember what I said about most people being like dogs?¡±


    ¡°Not really¡­ but you told me this awhile ago, if it was then, no.¡±  Josef shook his big head and then opened the fridge to pull out a glass cylinder of black olives.  He popped the cap with a quick twist and nodded, ¡°But go on.¡±


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    ¡°Well, I did.¡±  Charlie replied and said, ¡°I was wrong.  Smart or dumb, we can all do dumb things, dangerous things, reckless things, and the wrong people can pay the price.  The smarter you are, the more you can screw things up when you¡¯re wrong.  In a way, we¡¯re all like dogs¡­ I made a mistake, can¡¯t fix it¡­ I want to do things differently.  I have accepted that much¡­ so¡­ you want to do something nice for that girl?¡±  Charlie asked and set the wine on the counter.


    As Josef nodded and began pouring olive juice and a few olives into what Charlie now recognized as a mixed green salad, the smaller scientist reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet and a black card.  ¡°There is no spending limit on this.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, you can¡¯t be serious.¡±  Josef stared down at the black piece of plastic with a disbelieving gaze.


    ¡°I am, though.  I very much am.  Josef I made more money in personalizing quantum computing through electron-binary coding than Bill Gates did on Windows.  My bills are paid for me.  I¡¯ve had¡­ problems¡­ I know, but unless the financial sector collapsed while I¡¯ve been¡­ lost I guess, then that¡¯s all still going on.  Just take the card, get the girl what you want.  Besides, if you¡¯d stayed with me instead of taking over the store, half this would be yours anyway.¡±


    ¡°Charlie, I did leave.¡±  Josef said, but his hand moved out anyway to accept the card.


    ¡°So what?¡±  Charlie asked, ¡°You didn¡¯t leave me.  You left school.  If you¡¯d stuck through that we¡¯d have been in the same field and I might have developed my innovations in half the time that I actually did.  You did slow me down a bit, big oaf,¡± Charlie smirked up at the square jawed and olive skinned shopkeeper, ¡°but it¡¯s a fair trade.  Besides, I never paid a cent for the textbook editing help.  Just take the card and use it.¡±


    ¡°And¡­ excuse the smell¡­ I have been trying to get this place presentable again, the mess, the garbage¡­¡±  Charlie turned a little red when the credit card slipped out of his hand and into the big sausage fingers of his companion.


    ¡°Nah man, nah, don¡¯t think anything of it, but why don¡¯t you just hire someone?¡±  Josef asked while Charlie walked away into the living area.


    ¡°This is my place, my life, I¡­ I let things come to this.  I should be the one to fix it.  A little elbow grease never hurt anybody.¡±  Charlie said a little louder as he came close to the white alarm clock, he yanked the cord loose and it killed the noise.


    A thousand questions ran through the mind of the greatest mind of his age, and they floated away like autumn leaves on a steady and placidly flowing river.  ¡®None of that matters¡­ none of it.  Whatever it is¡­ I have to just¡­ I have to accept things as they are, not as I wish they were, even if they don¡¯t make sense.¡¯


    His heart swelled a little, ¡®Is that¡­?¡¯  What he was going to ask was interrupted when Josef came out and set a salad on the table.


    ¡°Eat up, listen, again¡­ sorry about catching you off guard but with Mileva gone and the shop closed, there¡¯s really nothing else I can do.  You said I was the only one to stick around but¡­ that goes both ways, doesn¡¯t it?¡±  Josef gave a little smirk down at Charlie, who sat staring down at the bowl of green lettuce, orange carrots, black olives, and bits of tan garlic croutons.


    Charlie shot his eyes up in alarm when he accepted the fork, ¡°Did something happen to her?!  Wait¡­ what¡­¡±  Charlie¡¯s heart raced for an instant, pounding like he¡¯d run for miles.


    ¡°She got a job, obviously, I mean that does count as something happening.¡±  Josef said, ¡°She went off to work with SETI, trying to apply your innovations to long range communications and possibly reaching alien life forms through coded electron spin modification.  That¡¯s if the black hole gravitational slingshot works.  All we need is to get a split in other parts of the Universe and¡­ well we can travel without going anywhere.¡±  Josef fairly preened when he said it.


    ¡°She knows¡­ doesn¡¯t she?  About the- end.¡±  Charlie shut his eyes, trying not to picture the death of the vibrant woman in the flower of youth dying before her time.


    Josef pursed his lips.  ¡°You know the answer to that, Charlie.¡±


    ¡®No I don¡¯t!¡¯  Charlie wanted to scream it, but he couldn¡¯t, instead he started to eat his salad.


    The vegetables crunched under his teeth and the pitted olives squished as soft as spongy mushrooms, the zing flavor wasn¡¯t ashes in his mouth as so many meals had been before.  If anything, despite the almost somber question and his own uncertainty about the world around him¡­ that added to it all, the salad under his fork, the feel of the silver stem, cool in his hand, and the company he kept, all made more precious by the certainty of their end.


    It was, in that moment, the finest salad Charlie had ever had, and with his mouth full, just as he crunched down on a cold carrot, he gave an enthusiastic nod.  ¡°Tish is good!¡±  He said.  Josef¡¯s brief tension began to ease up, and where his lips had been even and pursed for a moment before, a little smile began to form.

 Chapter Twenty-Nine

    ¡°Anyway, the other thing was, I wanted you to be up early tomorrow, do you think you could manage it?¡± Josef asked, ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it.¡±


    ¡®I don¡¯t have an alarm clock.¡¯ Charlie almost said. But he did. He could feel the thing staring into his back somehow. ¡®Quite a glare for an inanimate object.¡¯ He had to admit.


    ¡®I don¡¯t want to.¡¯ he almost said. But at the request, and at the way Josef added his own appreciation, Charlie could not help but nod. ¡°Yeah, yeah sure, what for though? How early?¡±


    ¡°About five in the morning, you know, a little before sunrise.¡± Josef said nonchalantly.


    ¡°A little bit early isn¡¯t it? I mean what about the shop?¡± Charlie asked.


    ¡°Meh, repairs won¡¯t be done today, so it¡¯s no sweat. Even if they are done today, what construction crew do you know that starts building things before sunrise? If you can name em, I want to hire em!¡± Josef said with mocking enthusiasm.


    ¡°Alright, yeah, that¡¯s¡­ fair, no arguing that, but the question remains, what for?¡± Charlie pressed.


    ¡°You don¡¯t answer your phone much, do you?¡± Josef asked rhetorically.


    Charlie glanced backward, the cable it was usually connected to, wasn¡¯t in place. Nor was the phone. ¡°No, no I don¡¯t.¡± Charlie knew he didn¡¯t have to answer, they both already knew, but he said it anyway. ¡°To be frank I don¡¯t even know where it is, everything is missing or misplaced or just ¡®off¡¯ lately, in ways I¡¯m not even noticing half the time I guess¡­ so no, I haven¡¯t really kept track of my phone.¡±


    ¡°Well if you had kept track of your phone, ¡®Doctor Charlie Manning¡¯,¡± Josef¡¯s voice became briefly condescending and nasal, ¡°you¡¯d know that there are people still wanting to hear from you. They¡¯ve kept their distance because you wanted them there, but they still ask about you, they still worry about you. Your friends are still out there waiting for you to come back to them.¡± Josef killed the nasal condescending mockery and when Charlie pushed the now empty salad container away, the big man took it without thinking and returned to the kitchen.


    ¡°Then why didn¡¯t they come see me? Why not stop by? Why not¡­ well I don¡¯t use that toxic cesspool that is social media but¡­ you know, they know my address. Why not just drop by?¡± Charlie pressed, he hadn¡¯t intended to let bitterness touch his tongue, let alone leap off the tip to take flight into the air.


    But he did and it had. ¡°That wasn¡¯t about them.¡± Charlie said as fast as he could, ¡°I had no right, I have no right to expect them to just rush over to dive into whatever my dramatic show happens to be. None at all. But I can¡¯t help wondering why they didn¡¯t, does that make me a hypocrite?¡± He asked.


    ¡°A little bit, yeah, but who isn¡¯t? Who doesn¡¯t really want the people that say they care, to act like they care? Drama or genuine crisis¡­ people who don¡¯t care to help, don¡¯t care at all. So of course it seems like they don¡¯t give a damn if they don¡¯t so much as visit.¡± Josef said reasonably from within the kitchen.


    Charlie heard the water run and the sound of heavy splashes from the rinsing of the tupperware.


    ¡°You¡¯re damn right about that.¡± Charlie tried and failed again at his effort to keep from sounding bitter.


    ¡°But I know those folks, I think they all just don¡¯t know what to say. Can you really blame them? How do you comfort someone who has everything they wanted, that anyone would want, and yet seems miserable? I sure as shit don¡¯t know.¡± Josef said, and Charlie could swear he heard the man shake his head almost hard enough to snap a neck that wasn¡¯t quite as thick.


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    ¡°You did though. You were there.¡± Charlie pointed out.


    ¡°I also kept them up to date, maybe they could have handled it better, been more involved, but they tried the best they knew how without trying to impose¡­¡± Josef pointed out and trailed off.


    Charlie picked up what his friend had put down. ¡°I get it. So basically I¡¯m the raging dick if I don¡¯t forgive them for not fawning over me like Florence fucking Nightingale when I fell into my slump of self hatred and despair?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say that.¡± Josef called out, ¡°I think you can say they could have shown more care or concern¡­ but they did show some, and you¡¯re better off now, what else could they do anyway? One way or another, getting better is up to you no matter what it is. All anyone else can do is kind of poke you a little bit.¡±


    Charlie chose to be grateful that Josef didn¡¯t twist the knife of the fact that their deaths were inevitable too, and slumped in his seat. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go, I¡¯ll say hello, I¡¯ll show off what a double dad bod I¡¯ve developed.¡±


    ¡°A what now?¡± Josef stopped after ducking under the open frame between the living area and the kitchen to rejoin Charlie.


    ¡°You know, like a dad bod, but two of them¡­ god I¡¯m hideous. It¡¯ll actually be a relief to run again just to feel less disgust with what I see in the shower.¡± Charlie replied and leaned back in his seat.


    ¡°Yeah, just set your alarm and don¡¯t be late, see you in the morning, Charlie.¡± Josef said and stood up, ¡°Oh,¡± Josef added when he was on his feet again and Charlie gave him his full attention, ¡°we didn¡¯t use the wine, so save it, we¡¯ll use both bottles when we can get our friends together again. I should get going, I¡¯d rather not be here all the way till dawn.¡±


    ¡°Right, I guess that¡¯s fair.¡± Charlie let out a loud sneeze that was more like a bellow, and barely covered his mouth in time.


    ¡°Bless you¡­ you disease spewer.¡± Josef teased, then stood.


    ¡°Har. Har. Har.¡± Charlie gave the clearly dry, fake laugh when he stood up as well and walked Josef to the door, turned the handle to let him out, and closed the door behind his departing companion


    The door clicked shut¡­ then the sound hit.


    Beethoven¡¯s ninth, ¡®Ode to Joy¡¯ in D. The nature of the sound meant that there could only be one source.


    His eyes opened slowly with the noise, he found himself in his bed again, the blanket over his body, the sheets under him, and pitch darkness outside.


    ¡°I never thought I¡¯d hate the sound of my favorite symphony like I do at this moment.¡± Charlie rolled over to one side and began to look around for the evidence of the glowing face of his smartphone.


    His eyes scanned the darkness until he caught the translucent and ghostlike reflection of the phone through the window. ¡°And¡­ of course it would be out of reach, it¡¯s just like in college. Put the alarm out of reach so you have to get up to turn it off. There are times¡­ when being a little dumber might just be the same as being a little happier.¡± Charlie muttered his annoyance and with his muscles aching as if he¡¯d already run the old route, he slung himself out of the bed and landed with his feet flat on the floor with a thud.


    Charlie went to the far wall to the outlet close by the kitchen entrance where an outlet that still had some sticky stains on the cream colored outer plate, served as the charging station for the smartphone.


    The symphony was just reaching it¡¯s crescendo and Charlie hummed along with it. His brief hatred of the symphony to which he woke up, faded away to nothing in the momentary pleasure of some of the most beautiful musical work in human history.


    It wasn¡¯t until after the crescendo that Charlie crouched down, yanked the little white charger loose from the phone and rose back up to his feet. Upright again, the song nearly finished, he hummed as loud as he could and without realizing it, he moved his free hand as a conductor might have.


    Then the music ended, and Charlie turned off the alarm, sliding the unlock option all the way to one side.


    With that stopped, Charlie¡¯s hand fumbled around in the darkness until he found the little downward pointing switch. ¡°Let there be light.¡± he declared and flicked it up, and light flooded the flat, and it was good.


    Good enough for him to see in at least, though a bulb flickered overhead in defiance, Charlie ignored it to hasten over to a small chest of drawers and begin to yank out the workout clothing he hadn¡¯t worn since before he left on a job he would regret for the rest of his life.


    Black shorts with a yellow stripe, followed by a white tank top that had clearly seen better days, it was nicked and torn a little bit in a spot or two, and it had one or two small mustard stains¡­ but the straps were intact and Charlie didn¡¯t care.


    The shirt was intended to keep back his embarrassing lack of fitness, but when he saw himself in the mirror¡­ ¡°So¡­ Charlie? Do you want to be a fat guy trying to get into shape? Or¡­ do you want to be a really fat guy trying to look like he¡¯s in shape? This¡­¡± He stared at his reflection, everything was a sound ¡®no¡¯ from himself.


    With good reason. The shirt was tight enough that it made his chest look like boobs that needed a bra, it was tight at the belly and showed off his fat and it made him look larger than he was. ¡®I¡¯m not vain, but there are limits¡­¡¯ He peeled the shirt off and set it aside.


    He threw on his shoes and socks, grabbed his key and rushed out the door of the apartment without looking back.


    The air had a gentle warmth to it and there was darkness aplenty, overweight, shirtless as he was, in these conditions nobody would see him anyway. ¡°Charlie!¡± He turned to hear a voice call out from across the street.


    Josef was waiting on the other side of the empty road, and he wasn¡¯t alone. He waved a yellow safety glow stick overhead, the thing was secured to a string meant to be worn around the neck, but being waved as a helicopter propeller at that moment, it was good enough to catch Charlie¡¯s eye too.


    Nor was Josef alone. ¡°Guys?!¡± Charlie shouted with a broad grin.


    ¡°Not all of us¡­ dick.¡± A woman¡¯s voice declared, and Charlie glanced both ways across the dark and empty street, then rushed across as fast as he could to say hello again.

 Chapter Thirty

    ¡®I was away for¡­ god it must have been a long time¡­ a long¡­ long time.  It¡¯s up to me to fix this¡­¡¯  Charlie told himself as he put on the biggest smile he could manage.


    He jogged across the street and when he reached it, he hunched over with his hands on his knees, he wheezed, ¡°H-H-Hey Sarah¡­ yeah, I-I know.  Yo-You look different.¡±


    Charlie huffed and puffed his cheeks flushed from the pathetic excuse for effort that had already drained him of his energy.  ¡°I-I-I¡¯m a little out of shape.¡±


    ¡°Round is a shape.¡±  Charlie heard the voice and raised his head while still being hunched over, he saw Judy standing there with her hands on her hips wearing a blue tracksuit and bright white sneakers.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ yeah it is, but it¡¯s not my preferred shape.¡±  Charlie acknowledged, his cheeks burned with embarrassment and a sense of shame washed over him, the familiar loathing he felt when getting out of bed, came back like it was never gone.  ¡®I shouldn¡¯t be here.  I¡¯ll slow them down.¡¯  He told himself, briefly at a loss at what else to say.


    ¡°I should look different¡­ about twenty times over by now.¡±  Sarah interrupted before Judy could tease the hunched over Charlie any further.  She had a winning smile on her ebony face.  ¡°I¡¯ve changed my hair four times, tried different makeup brands eight times, and I even had these reduced to fix my back pain.¡±  She straightened up and arched her back to show that her chest was now several sizes smaller.


    ¡°Well, it would have been rude to say anything about that but¡­ he-hey as long as you¡¯re happy.¡±  Charlie answered and slowly straightened up.


    ¡°Yeah well, you¡¯re back but¡­ you sure you can handle this?¡±  Mark, a slender former track and field participant and present data scientist looked him up and down.  ¡°You¡¯ve not been exercising and it¡¯s not good to try to handle these distances without training.¡±


    ¡°No¡­ probably not.  I-I wasn¡¯t in a good place.¡±  Charlie admitted, ¡°I¡¯m sorry I ignored you all, stopped running, stopped existing.  It wasn¡¯t about you, I promise¡­ this was on me.¡±  Charlie said with aplomb.  ¡°Everything.¡±  He added with emphasis, though he was still flushed in his cherub face and breathing hard, he said it as strongly as he could, and even the more prickly Judy had nothing to say to that.


    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s been up with you all, what have I missed?¡±  Charlie pressed through the silence and asked the daring question.  ¡®They could dismiss it, they could say nothing¡­ I did abandon them¡­ you can¡¯t just neglect your friends for god knows how long and then start over¡­ I¡­¡¯  The anxiety and worry ran through him though he kept his nervous smile, and was grateful that the darkness kept it mostly concealed and only the dim glow of a nearby streetlight illuminated any of them at all.  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    He waited for the inevitable ¡°Nothing much,¡± from most of them.  Charlie could feel Josef at his back, it was a comforting sort of feeling, knowing one certain friendly face was there, and because of that, the pace of his beating heart began to slow down, little by little.


    ¡°A lot of stuff.¡±  Mark finally said, breaking the silent, awkward moment, ¡°But it¡¯s going to warm up quickly and I¡¯d rather not drop from the heat.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I don¡¯t think I could carry Charlie out of here when he keels over.¡± Judy teased, and Charlie suppressed a flinch.  There were a few chuckles at her barb, but Mark pressed on.


    ¡°Uh huh, listen we can catch up over breakfast.  This is your first run, so I¡¯ve planned out the route to be an easy one, just do what you can, and when you can¡¯t handle it anymore, just walk to the usual place.¡±  Mark said, then stopped, ¡°Wait, you do remember the usual place, right, Charlie?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s the ¡®Seattle¡¯s Best¡¯ coffee shop, isn¡¯t it?¡±  Charlie asked rhetorically.


    ¡°No, no it¡¯s the Starbucks.  C¡¯mon Charlie, I know it¡¯s been awhile, but get with it.¡±  Judy said with a dismissive shake of her head,


    Mark turned and pointed to the northeast, ¡°Northeast corner just off the quad.  You know the one with the outdoor seating.  That place.  We¡¯ll be kind of sweaty, so no indoor place will want us, but the Starbucks lets us order our drinks outside.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ Okay, I could have sworn it was a Seattle¡¯s Best¡­ man it has been awhile.¡±  Charlie said, having finally gotten his breath back.


    ¡°As long as it¡¯s coffee, I¡¯ll even try that stuff that snakes shit out.¡±  Philip remarked, and Charlie looked up at him, almost as tall as Josef, he was darker skinned and of mixed ancestry.  He was also a statistics professor and an avid player of Dungeons & Dragons and consumed caffeine like fish did water.


    ¡°That¡¯s a bit too much information, Phil.¡±  Charlie said to the broad young professor.


    ¡°Well now you know it, and you can never unknow it.¡±  Phil answered, the dim light of the lamp glowed against his toothy grin, ¡°Anyway,¡± he looked over to Mark, ¡°the route?¡±


    ¡°Right, right.¡±  Mark said, ¡°I¡¯ve marked the trail with bits of flour, no big hills or anything, the false trails end with an X, the real ones end with beer.  No hard liquor,¡± he raised a finger, ¡°but¡­ there is only enough beer at each spot for the first three people.  I know some of us are a bit faster than others.¡±  He gave a mocking glare toward Philip that said a great deal, while Philip in answer put his hands behind his back, turned half his body away, and whistled nonchalantly as if he wasn¡¯t being called out.


    ¡°But regardless, pass on one every now and then to let the rest of the group get some.  Since we¡¯re technically in the city, the beer will always be hidden in a bush, and the route will take you to the coffee shop at the end.  Any questions?¡±  Mark asked.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ uh, Charlie, you going to be okay?¡±  Judy asked, and Charlie flushed again.


    ¡°I got him, don¡¯t worry about it.¡±  Josef said from his back.


    ¡°I¡¯ll do my best.¡±  Charlie replied, sheepishly looking away.


    ¡°Alright¡­ then in that case¡­¡±  Mark began and took out a stopwatch from his pocket, ¡°Let the first summer run of the Hash House Harriers¡­¡±  The group took up starting postures, each with a foot back, and Mark took up position among them.


    Charlie did the same, until Judy cleared her throat, ¡°Hey¡­ Charlie, can you move to the back, you¡¯re going to be in the way.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right¡­ sorry.¡±  Charlie straightened up, moved to the rear of the group and struck position again.


    ¡°Begin!¡±  Mark shouted and started the timer.

 Chapter Thirty-One

    Charlie¡¯s love of gravity died after a dozen steps.  His belly jiggled and he felt sweat starting to flow almost immediately.  His friends took off ahead of him, they ran with the grace of gazelles, and Charlie hung his head, running like a bloated french bulldog.


    His feet thudded heavily on the pavement, the bright lights of their flashlights came on, and he reached for his own, only to realize he¡¯d forgotten it.  ¡®Damn¡­¡¯  He cursed, until he felt a light slap on his chest and saw Josef¡¯s meaty hand holding a small glowing flashlight that was already turned on, the light bounced around over and under his feet, a dancing spotlight in the darkness of the early morning.


    Josef remained quiet, he was jogging at barely more of a walk to Charlie¡¯s left.  ¡°Th-Th-Than-anks.¡±  Charlie wheezed and puffed and forced himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.


    ¡®Just keep moving.¡¯  He told himself and leaned forward a bit, his teeth clenched with a definitive sense of anger that became hatred for the very body he inhabited.


    ¡°What-  I-  W-Wouldn¡¯t  tr-trade f-for a mon-montage!¡±  Charlie wheezed out as he continued to huff, puff and struggle to keep his body moving forward.


    Josef laughed as the rest of the drinkers with a running problem continued to disappear into the distance.  Their little dangling glowing safety sticks, reflective belts, or swaying flashlights became as distant as stars.  Then they were all but gone.


    It felt good to get a laugh.


    But seeing them leaving him behind and splitting off to follow the trails to the inevitable hidden beers, Charlie only felt awkward.  His skin crawled like it was trying to get away from him.  ¡®I left them¡­ I shouldn¡¯t be surprised if I get left as well¡­¡¯


    Charlie¡¯s lungs felt like they were about to burst, his jog became a walk.  Josef slowed down in turn.  After several minutes and no sign of the others, Charlie said, ¡°If this were an anime I¡¯d probably find some hidden power about now and race ahead of the pack, then they¡¯d either look on with awe or find me smugly drinking all the beer at the end¡­¡±


    ¡°Then you¡¯d spend the next few episodes winning over various women and the season would end without you ever actually having sex with anyone.¡±  Josef pointed out, and the initial laughter redoubled.


    ¡°And with my luck it would be done by an animation studio that cut it¡¯s animation budget.¡±  Charlie retorted, and the laughter tripled.


    ¡°Man¡­ it¡¯s good to have you back again, Charlie.¡±  Josef said with clear relief in his voice.


    ¡°It doesn¡¯t look like the rest of my¡­ our...your friends, really agree.¡±  Charlie said with a depressed swallow, his genuine laughter devolved into an awkward smile that he couldn¡¯t really remove.


    Josef sighed, ¡°You missed out.  Look¡­ now that I know?  I get it.  But to them, you¡¯re the friend that abandoned them, nobody minded you leaving for a job.  But when you came back, you ignored their calls, messages, Judy even baked you a cake.  Mary wanted to throw you a party.  Mark tried to invite you out¡­ can you blame them?¡±


    ¡°No, I can¡¯t.¡±  Charlie answered, ¡°I didn¡¯t expect Judy to be¡­¡± Charlie inclined his head in the direction he¡¯d seen her take off, ¡°that way, you know?¡±Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    ¡°You did say you wanted to go out with her after you got back.¡±  Josef pointed out.


    ¡°I¡­ did I?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°That¡¯s what she said.¡±  Josef replied with a shrug.


    ¡°Wow¡­¡±  Charlie tried to start jogging again, his feet moved a little bit faster and Josef began to run beside him again.


    ¡°So how far do you think you¡¯ll go?¡±  Josef said, shifting the subject elsewhere.


    ¡°How about¡­ do you think you¡¯d mind if we just went straight to the coffee shop?  Oh and do you have my card on you?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Yeah, sure.¡±  Josef answered.  ¡°One morning without sweating beer out of my pores won¡¯t kill me.¡±


    The sun was just starting to come up on the distant horizon when they reached the coffee shop.  Charlie¡¯s best effort involved a jog that was paced at a fifteen minute mile and a walk that was only a little slower.


    ¡°No shoes, no shirt, no service.¡±  Charlie pointed out, ¡°Do you mind?¡±  He asked with some aplomb, waving his hand up and down to make it painfully obvious that he was shirtless.


    ¡°Sure thing, at least they¡¯re still open, but what do you want?¡±  Josef asked as they reached the set of stone tables and benches in the little fenced in outdoor dining area.


    ¡°Everybody¡¯s favorite for everybody.¡±  Charlie replied, ¡°And¡­ that¡¯s all.  I think this is enough for now.¡±


    ¡°Enough, Charlie you¡¯re not going, are you?¡±  Josef asked, his hand stopped in midgesture on the way to his pocket to pull the wallet out.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah I am.  Thanks¡­ thanks a lot for this.  Really, but I think they¡¯ll need time, and frankly I¡¯m not comfortable being seen in public like this.  I¡¯d like to get back and shower.¡±  He blushed a little bit, then hastily added, ¡°But I promise I¡¯ll come out for another run!  I¡¯ll keep at it¡­ coffee is on me tomorrow too.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t about me reminding you of asking Judy out, is it?¡±  Josef asked with a semi-suspicious lingering look.


    ¡°No¡­ this is about everything.  It¡¯s for the best.  I vanished suddenly¡­ twice if you think about it, if I try to shove my way back in like I never left, I¡¯d be kind of a dick.¡±  Charlie pointed out, and Josef gave a reluctant nod.


    ¡°Maybe so, just don¡¯t let Judy get to you, she¡¯s always been a bit sharp tongued.¡±  Josef pointed out, and with a polite inclining of his head, Charlie turned around and began to jog back home.


    When he was gone, when the coffee shop was at his back, and he didn¡¯t run into any of his friends and was sure that he wouldn¡¯t, a sense of overwhelming relief hit him that was as strong as his previous embarrassment and shyness.  ¡®I made it, I made it through¡­ alright not one whole day of socializing with the old group, but one short run.  Or walk¡­ whatever, you made it Charlie, don¡¯t split hairs!¡¯  He admonished himself as he did his best to hasten back to his apartment building.


    The sun lit up the day with its bright orange morning glow and cars began to appear in greater numbers, they whished along and didn¡¯t notice him.  The people who walked, that was worse.  He felt them linger on his sweaty, overweight and out of shape body.  ¡®Judgement.¡¯  He felt it like knives in his flesh, sharp and painful, some had the good manners to look away, but others stared more openly or made faces of disgust when they saw him.


    They, however, were few.


    But they did make Charlie move faster, his breath came ragged and hard as he jogged in short spurts to reach the building near their starting point.


    It felt like his lungs were on fire, like his veins were pumping battery acid, he gasped and gulped for more air as if he were nearly drowning, and the warmth of the sun made the sweat glisten like some foul shine over his exposed skin.


    He grabbed at the door to the building and flung it open before rushing inside.  His hand darted for the rail and he hauled himself up the steps until he reached the first landing, then out of sight of those beyond the door, he slowed down.  His feet pounded up to the first landing, but his feet audibly slid over each step on his way up to the floor on which he lived.


    Once there, he staggered on until he reached the door, opened the handle, and staggered inside.  His eyes lingered on the bed, but his sense of disgust drew him to stagger toward the shower instead.  He flipped the water on and fell with his back against the wall.  He slid down until he sat on the shower floor and, lacking the energy to even wash himself, he simply let himself soak in the lukewarm water and like a thousand tiny rivers, he let the droplets themselves serve as a standin for his own efforts.


    ¡®About half the group will have reached the shop.  I hope they like my little peace offering¡­¡¯  Charlie contemplated, though his uncertainty caused him to bite his lower lip and worry about it in silence.


    He sat that way until he felt the strength to stand, spinning slowly once in the shower and moving each hand over his skin at least once, it was a ¡®rinse¡¯ more than a proper cleaning.


    ¡®A half assed job is better than a no assed job¡­¡¯  He reassured himself and flipped the water off, he then half stumbled to his bed.  His eyes closed, the springs of the mattress squeaked and the bed rocked a little from the sudden impact of his weight, then he fell immediately into a weary sleep.

 Chapter Thirty-Two

    When Charlie woke up, it wasn¡¯t with a cold sweat, it wasn¡¯t with his eyes flying wide open, and he didn¡¯t shoot upright as if from a nightmare.  He woke up slowly, sprawled out on his bed, with a white blanket strewn about.  He groaned, it was still dark.  He glanced toward the window, no hint of the hour could be found from the darkness beyond.  But one desire did crystalize in his head.


    ¡®I need to get something¡­¡¯  He said to himself and slowly pushed himself up against the soft mattress, his hands sinking into the foul thing.  He groaned again, pain from stiff limbs was steady and throbbing.  ¡°I am outta shape¡­¡±  Charlie mumbled and eased himself over the side of the bed.  His computer sat dusty and unused on the end table that sat at the foot of the bed by the wall.


    He didn¡¯t bother with a chair, he stood up, fumbling in the dark, he popped it open and entered his PIN number to get into the system.  It didn¡¯t take but a moment for him to reach the websites he wanted.  ¡°Treadmill¡­ and¡­ new mattress¡­ bedding¡­. clothing¡­¡±  He verbally ticked off the list of things he would need as he acquired them.


    But when he got to the clothing section and looked down at his own nude body, the girth disgusted him.  ¡®No.  I¡¯ll order clothes that ¡®will¡¯ fit.  And just to get by, I¡¯ll order two or three that ¡®do¡¯ fit.¡¯  His now flabby jowls tensed with determination.


    He ordered two pairs of jeans, a belt, three shirts that would fit ¡®for the present¡¯ and then eight sets of everything he intended to fit into again one day.


    The treadmill and exerbike came last.  With his credit card saved, he plugged in the three digit CVV code, six- six- seven- and upgraded the shipping to overnight.


    He then closed the laptop, ending the glow of the screen that briefly lit up the area around him, and shrouding the room in darkness again.


    For several long moments, Charlie stood there, naked, a little tired but steadily waking up, unsure of whether to go back to bed or go outside or what to do at all.  The television he watched on an endless loop beckoned him again.  But outside, in a few hours, his friends would be gathering for a run.  ¡®Assuming the time on the computer is right, which it must be, it¡¯s a little after midnight¡­¡¯  Charlie¡¯s stomach growled a little, a reminder that he hadn¡¯t eaten at all after the previous day.


    Around him, the garbage was still present, though it was more a patchwork carpet of shadowy debris without the light of the day to reveal what it was composed of.  Despite his best prior effort, only a part of the room had been cleaned, ¡®No more¡­ this may take time, but¡­ what else have I got?  I can at least do some every day¡¯  He thought and flicked on a lightswitch.


    If he had neighbors to think of, he might have hesitated, but as he didn¡¯t, Charlie went to the bathroom, swept the blue curtain aside and turned on the shower.  He reached for the red bucket by the toilet and put it under the water, the sound of water striking plastic echoed over the room and off the shower walls.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    He then crouched down beneath the sink and drew out the bleach and dumped some to slosh inside the bucket, then repeated the process again with Pine Sol.  The fragrant smell of pine spread easily amidst the steam, and then he went into the kitchen.  He paused to yawn, covering his big mouth with a hand before taking out the box of Hefty bags.


    ¡°Just do three.¡±  He told himself, and removed the first one before tossing the box onto the counter.  The loud crinkle of the bag unwrapping from the rolled up whole was quickly followed by the loud snap as he whipped the bag open and went into the living area like he was preparing for a fight.


    He stopped.  ¡°No¡­ not this time.¡±  He mumbled, then returned to the kitchen and found a set of thick rubber gloves under the sink.


    Now ¡®dressed¡¯ for the task, he returned and began to pick up the filth.  A pizza box that he pulled out was covered in grease stains, and, to his horror, and almost vomit inducing, it still had a piece of pizza that stuck to it.


    Only¡­ it was covered in mold.  Foul, black and white ¡®fuzz¡¯ coated the entire surface of the slice except for the baked pale crusty wide ends.  He was about to shove it into the bag when he thought better of it.  Charlie dropped the bag, folded the box several times, grunting with effort until he¡¯d folded it four times.  ¡®So folding it that eight times just¡­ wasn¡¯t going to happen.¡¯  He thought as he recalled the old record for a piece of paper.  He slid the smooth brown box into the bag  and it quickly ¡®partially¡¯ unfolded, but it was good enough.


    More would fit.  He crumpled old chicken buckets into balls and watched with revulsion as roaches scrambled away whenever he disturbed the ¡®nest¡¯ they made.  ¡®It¡¯s a wonder there aren¡¯t rats.¡¯  Charlie thought as he continued the steady progress until the first bag was full.


    It felt like forever, and dragging the bags over to the door one by one and exposing more of the floor was as exhausting as it was satisfying¡­ but it still felt like quite a bit remained.


    ¡®But¡­ I can see more of that filthy, disgusting floor, and these aren¡¯t as heavy as the last ones.¡¯  The thought sounded worse in his head than he really knew it to be, with three bags against the door, each one half the height of his body, it was a milestone.


    The mopping afterward required more vigor than it would have if he¡¯d just cleaned up the first time around.  Still, he tried.  He ground the mop against the floor to dislodge crust remnants that had dried into place and with almost cruel satisfaction, noted the way the roaches fled from him like he was an angry god.


    The white, chemical saturated water splashed back down into the bucket again, and again, and again.  Every time he twisted the mop to wring it of filth after another pass over the floor, until the water turned a disgusting shade of ¡®dust gray¡¯ with debris ranging from crust or caught up bones to roach feces floating in the midst of it.


    The way the bones and fecal matter floated around with bits of stained white crusts reminded Charlie of a movie where a man survived a plane crash.  Bodies, debris, and filth around a ruined machine.  Hair stood on end with a shudder of disgust that was becoming far too familiar.


    Unable to dump bits of bone in the toilet, Charlie set the lip of the bucket on the porcelain rim and holding the red bucket at the base with care, he tilted it forward and then lay one blue gloved hand over the protruding lip of the bucket itself.


    The foul waste water went in, while the larger debris did not, and the gurgling water drained down the toilet on its own when the fill grew too high.


    The weight of the bucket was difficult at first, awkward and uncomfortable, a strain on his now weak arms.  But as he poured it out, it grew easier and easier, until the weight was lifted and there was nothing left but the bones of meals he shouldn¡¯t have eaten in the first place and didn¡¯t remember at all.


    He snatched up the bones and crusts in between his fingers, approached the bags, chucked them into one that he¡¯d left open, then tied it tight.


    ¡°Progress.  Finally¡­ a little progress.¡±  Charlie said and peeled off his gloves before he went to put on some running shorts and meet his friends again.

 Chapter Thirty-Three

    When Charlie descended the dark and empty stairs, it was cave-like, his footfalls echoed in the shadowy blackness.  There was no light at the end of the tunnel, though he knew the world outside was not that far away.  He could see nothing, he only held onto the handrail and took his time.


    He glanced overhead pointlessly.  The lightbulb that should have been in place and lit up at the motion detection seemed not to be working.  He shrugged it off and when he reached the bottom he was finally close enough to see the glass exit.


    Charlie pushed the door open and searched in the predawn dark for his friends, he knew where to look.  The overhead street lamp just off to the right, out of view of the building, it was blinking on and off, but when it lit up, there they were.


    It was easier for him to see into the light than for them to see out of it, and so Charlie didn¡¯t bother waving.  His heart however, ¡®wavered¡¯.  His last visit, ¡®I wasn¡¯t exactly welcomed¡­ not that I blame them, but still.¡¯  He thought, and looked over his shoulder back to his home.  The building was one big common cube, a simple ordinary structure built entirely for function, fitting for its purpose but nothing beautiful about it.


    His eyes lingered on the building, the door that would take him back inside and back to his quarters.  Then he turned again and saw them chattering away under the light.  They had their backs to him while they watched Josef do a series of back flips, each time shouting ¡°Hup¡­ hup¡­ hup¡­¡± as he pushed off the ground.


    Charlie smirked, the big oaf was usually the first to be seen, and the center of attention when he wanted to be, usually just to play around.


    He reached down and touched the gut he had hanging off of him and swallowed his nervousness with an audible gulp before he ambled across the street.


    When he drew closer, Charlie could hear them.


    ¡°...I really don¡¯t think he¡¯ll show.  I mean he didn¡¯t even stick around before.¡±  Judy remarked while tying off her ponytail at the base of her skull.


    ¡°Does or doesn¡¯t, I¡¯m running anyway.¡±  Charlie heard Philip remark.


    Charlie had his hand up when he heard them, then slowly let it droop down to his side.  He forced a smile he didn¡¯t feel and announced louder than he needed to, ¡°I made it!  I hope I didn¡¯t keep you waiting.¡±


    Josef landed on his feet with a final decisive hop with a goofy grin on his face.  ¡°See, ten and I¡¯m not even dizzy.  Coffee is on you, Mary.¡±


    ¡°Nuts.¡±  She snapped her fingers.  ¡°I didn¡¯t think you could even do one.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s always been full of surprises.¡±  Charlie replied while they turned to see him approach.  ¡°Are we doing this or what?¡±  He said as close to his old self as he could.


    Before Judy could say anything, he moved to what would be the back of the line.


    ¡°Same route as yesterday, we¡¯re going to keep it simple for the week¡­¡±  Mark said with a sheepish grin briefly illuminated by the overhead light before it blinked out again and then died completely after one final fizzling pop.Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    ¡°Okay¡­ I worked late and didn¡¯t have time to lay the trail.  Sue me.¡±  Mark chuckled and the rest of his group chuckled with him.


    ¡°Meh, a few repetitions won¡¯t hurt.¡±  Judy pointed out with a casual flip of her hand against her bouncing auburn hair.


    ¡°I bought better beer to make up for it.¡±  Mark said with a bigger grin that was somewhat less sheepish.


    ¡°Our hero.¡±  Charlie sprang into the conversation and opened his mouth to laugh.


    Silence greeted him.


    Josef cleared his throat, ¡°We ready or what?¡±  He covered the awkward moment.


    ¡°Ah, yeah¡­¡±  Mark accepted the cover, lined up with the others.


    ¡°Just don¡¯t die out here, Charlie.¡±  Judy admonished him, but to that, Charlie was silent.


    ¡°Go!¡±  Mark called out and took off.


    Charlie began to jog.


    He ran in silence while he watched the rest of the group take off, some pairing up, others springing ahead.


    Josef however, seemed to be content to pace Charlie.


    ¡°You do-don¡¯t have to le-let me hold y-you back.¡±  Charlie huffed and puffed, his body fat jiggling and bouncing in ways that made him glad it was the earliest hours of the morning before anyone else was around.


    ¡°Nah, it¡¯s no problem.¡±  Josef looked down at him and answered, ¡°I go where I choose and am where I am, and it¡¯s fine.¡±  He said with a steady, easy tone that said he was not even trying.


    Silence stretched out again.


    ¡°I told them you¡¯d be here.¡±  Josef said, ¡°That¡¯s why I didn¡¯t bother to come knocking.  I knew you would make it.¡±


    ¡°H-H-How could you know th-that?¡±  Charlie gasped out.


    ¡°Because you were always stubborn.¡±  Josef replied.


    ¡°Ah-hah-ah,¡± Charlie huffed, ¡°Not e-enough to f-finish yes-yesterday.¡±  He huffed and puffed along, and Josef was quiet again.


    Until they¡¯d gone an eighth of a mile further, and then Josef added, ¡°But now you¡¯re a little farther than you were just the other day.  That¡¯s something.¡±  Josef pointed out, and Charlie, in answer, just kept jogging.


    Unable to concentrate, and in too much pain too soon, Charlie was unable to determine just how far they ran that morning before he was reduced to walking.  But one word came to mind, ¡®Farther.¡¯


    Josef on the surface, seemed to him to be correct, it was farther than before, and they reached the coffee shop just as the sun began to appear on the distant horizon to bring a daylight Charlie still wasn¡¯t comfortable in.


    ¡°You¡¯ve still got my card?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Yeah, and¡­ I did with it what you said¡­ both kids got a nice tombstone and I set up the start of a college fund in their names for their last sibling.¡±  Josef answered.


    ¡°Both...?¡±  Charlie asked, briefly closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before walking through the gate of the outdoor seating area.


    ¡°Yeah, the little boy and little girl, I went to see their mother¡­ horrible mess, turns out she had another son¡­ you covered the medical costs, the funeral, and¡­ well with a little extra, they¡¯ll be taken care of¡­ I didn¡¯t go too far, did I?¡±  He asked and removed the card from his pocket.


    Charlie shook his head, ¡°No¡­ no that¡¯s not it¡­¡±  He bit his lip and Josef extended the black card back to him.


    Charlie held up a soft, sweat covered hand while looking down at the card.  ¡°Keep it, get another round for everyone on me, I¡¯m not¡­ not comfortable right now, you know?  Making them feel at ease in¡­ the time left, that¡¯s fine.  I just¡­¡±  Charlie moved his palm in a sharp wave up and down the surface of his body.  ¡°Not liking this right now¡­¡±


    ¡°Sure man¡­ sure.¡±  Josef answered and with some reluctance, slipped the card back into his pocket, going into the shop, while Charlie thought better of his brief desire to take a seat, went back out the low black metal gate, and jogged back to his apartment.


    When he returned, the big bags were just where he left them, waiting to be thrown out.  They seemed to be staring at him, and over on the table by the head of his bed, a little round black alarm clock had begun to beep.


    The trash and filth of his apartment began to vex him more in that moment than it ever had before, his jaw clenched, his fat fingers tightened into fists, a fog of confusion and loathing for what lay around him held his every sensation hostage and for what felt like minutes but was likely seconds, he could not move.


    ¡°I can¡¯t¡­ fucking¡­ stand it.¡±  He hissed, unsure of what he even truly meant when he darted his over his shoulder to the empty hall and out where the rest of his friends were still running while Josef waited for them at the Starbucks.


    Whatever it was, when Charlie gained the ability to move again, he stormed to his kitchen, yanked up the gloves, grabbed the black bags and began to violently throw things into place, starting with the little alarm clock, and then piling more, and more, and more trash on top of it, and happy to see it gone.

 Chapter Thirty-Four

    The next few days were like that for Charlie.  He went about the room clearing out trash that he looked at with new eyes.  On his third day, he sank to his knees and realized that in some corners, it was eye level.  ¡°How?!  How?!  How did I become this?!  How did it come to this?!  How long was I...gone?!¡±  He asked himself, sometimes in hushed whispers, sometimes in regret, sometimes they were mere thoughts, but when his treadmill arrived, that was his break from cleaning.


    ¡®It¡¯s probably for the best that all that stuff couldn¡¯t be shipped together¡­¡¯  He thought as he grunted with the effort of hauling the waste down the stairs on his fifth trip of that afternoon.  Insects were swept up into the bag with everything else, and he could hear them crawling, scratching, scrambling around, confused while he destroyed their homes and desperate to escape from his indifference.


    Charlie grunted with effort while he pushed the bag into the green bin outside, it landed with a clang and broke a glass bottle which tore open the bag, he lingered just long enough to see the bugs scatter over the dark, dirty, grimy place like they¡¯d found themselves in a paradise.


    Then he returned to his apartment, turning the handle to his door and entered again.  Charlie unboxed the treadmill on his bed, slicing the tape off and sliding it out, he dropped the box out the window to the bin below and looked around the room.  ¡®I need a little more space¡­ but really not much more.  I¡¯m getting there!¡¯


    It was a heady moment that brought a smile to his face that was truly genuine.  ¡®If I keep at it, maybe in a week or so I can actually have people over.¡¯  For a moment he closed his eyes at the potential, a TV properly in place, music playing through speakers, a little playful flirtation, and some good wine.


    ¡°First though, I have to make ¡®friends¡¯ with them again.¡±  Charlie grumbled a little bit at that, rebuilding his life as it was, proved difficult.  They ran each time and left him behind, but each day he got a little better.  He reached down to his gut, it was definitely still there.  ¡®But progress¡­ with time even water can carve a canyon.  Though I don¡¯t exactly have millions of years.¡¯


    His thoughts turned to Judy¡¯s last biting comment, ¡°My turn to run off.¡±  She¡¯d laughed when she said it, but it clearly stung her that he ignored them for so long.  Her comments were usually like that, ¡°Running isn¡¯t hard.  You just ¡®go¡¯, you¡¯re good at that.¡±  or when he¡¯d asked if they minded if he lay a short route that he could manage one day, ¡°Just do what you want, that¡¯s your whole thing, isn¡¯t it?¡±


    The remarks were cutting, frequent, and the more he thought, the more it seemed to mean more collectively than any one of them on their own.


    He was still thinking about it while he worked at prying off the foam packing and other debris and throwing it away out the window and down to the bin below, when a thought came to him. ¡®It¡¯s not like I wanted to be¡­ for things to be like¡­¡¯  He looked around, at the ruins he was trying to clear out ¡®to be like this.¡¯


    ¡®Wait¡­ did I¡­ did I ever make that clear?  I just¡­ I walked up like nothing happened and just expected them to let me back in if I bought them coffee¡­¡¯  Charlie froze in mid-motion, box cutter still halfway through a piece of tape holding the warranty to the black tread material.


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll make it right.¡±  Charlie promised himself.


    ¡°Phone¡­ where¡¯s my phone¡­¡±  rushed over to the wall, kicking aside garbage, his fat fingers flailed and legs kicked like he was trying to stay afloat in the sea, until he caught sight of the little white cable, grabbed it, and followed it with his trembling fingers until he found the device.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    For a moment the phone was a blur through the sheen of water in his eyes, over nine hundred missed calls.


    He hit the code and then held the button for the auto assistant before tossing the phone onto the bed.  ¡°Group call, Hash House Harriers.¡±  Charlie commanded and went back to peeling away the tape which he crinkled into a ball before snatching up the manual and warranty paperwork and crinkling that up as well.


    The ringing noise on speaker went on for several breathless seconds before a friendly voice picked up.


    ¡°Charlie!  What¡¯s up!  You ¡®found¡¯ your phone again did you?!¡±  Josef said in a voice so cheery that Charlie could see the smile even without the video chat.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I kind of did, I thought I¡¯d, ¡®reach out and touch someone¡¯.¡±  he chuckled at the old slogan reference.


    ¡°Ah, sure, first invent that technology, and then you can do that, but what¡¯s up?¡±  Josef asked, and Charlie suppressed a sigh.


    ¡°It¡¯s an old slogan, Josef, I was cracking a joke.¡±  Charlie replied.


    ¡°Uh huh, and you¡¯re bad at that, so¡­ what¡¯s up?¡±  Josef said dryly before repeating the question.


    ¡°Okay, so I called the group, but you¡¯re the only one who picked up¡­ I want¡­ I want to explain, I owe them an explanation, I owe them an apology.  I bailed on them all-¡±


    ¡°Charlie, you can¡¯t tell them the full truth, you know that.¡±  Josef said, suddenly serious.


    ¡°No¡­ but I can give them close to it.   They deserve to know why one of the HHH who started all that, just ran off, I know they¡¯re not mad about me leaving for work.  We¡¯ve all got careers, well¡­ they all have careers.  I don¡¯t anymore.  But what happened after that¡­ I just want to make things as right as I can¡­ I hate to ask you for anything, but can you get them over to my place?¡±


    Charlie asked the question rhetorically, he knew how that would go.


    ¡°You bet.  When?¡±  Josef asked.


    ¡°Are they working today?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Charlie¡­ it¡¯s Friday.  Nobody works on Fridays, you know that.¡±  Josef answered.


    Charlie frowned.  ¡°Ah¡­ if you say so, yeah just today is good, if it¡¯s not too much trouble, can I have them over all at once?  This won¡¯t be easy for me to say and I don¡¯t know if I can do it multiple times.¡±


    ¡°Course.  Just ah¡­ promise me you¡¯ll be showered and dressed, funky won¡¯t fly.¡±  Josef pointed out.


    ¡°You¡¯ve seen my apartment, Josef.¡±  Charlie replied with withering self criticism.


    ¡°Yeah, just¡­ don¡¯t make it worse.¡±  Josef retorted.


    ¡°Point taken.¡±  Charlie replied.


    ¡°I thought it would be.¡±  Josef chuckled a bit and the phone call disconnected.


    Charlie did as Josef suggested, he opened the shower door and stepped inside, turned the water on, cleaned up as quickly as he could.  Every motion of scrubbing and rinsing was accompanied by a composed speech in his head of explanation and apology, until he killed the water, confident that he knew what to say.  Once out, he dried himself with a long thick blue towel and went to the box on his bed and opened up the one that would contain some of his clothing.  He held up the big round waisted underwear and jeans a few minutes later and reluctantly put them on with a hopeful glance at the treadmill before he put on his new shirt.


    Josef was true to his word, an hour later Charlie heard a knock on his door, before he could say anything or walk over to it, he could hear Judy¡¯s caustic voice.


    ¡°This better not be a waste of time, Josef, I wasted enough of my time on him before he took off and forgot that I- we- existed.¡±


    ¡°Judy, c¡¯mon,¡± Josef¡¯s muffled voice had gone up a little, like this wasn¡¯t her first complaint, ¡°just trust me, alright.¡±


    The grumbling that followed his request for trust was not Judy¡¯s alone.


    ¡®You can do this¡­ you can do this, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this¡­ you have to do this, you have to do this, you have to do this!¡¯  Charlie was repeating the words in his head on a loop, keeping his quiet thoughts as loud as he could and shouting at himself to show some balls.  He sucked in his teeth, took a deep, heavy breath, and reached for the knob of his door.


    He turned, it clicked, and he opened the door.


    Their chattering outside went stonily silent as soon as they saw him, before he could even speak to welcome them or say hello.


    The speech he¡¯d been writing and rehearsing in his head, it was gone.


    Instead, devoid of smile, grin, or happy welcome, he stepped aside, ignoring the pile of garbage he was disturbing when he moved to one side to make way for them.


    ¡°Come in¡­ I won¡¯t ask you to stay long, I promise you.¡±  Charlie said as they universally grabbed and pinched their noses shut against the smell.


    ¡°I just have a few things to say¡­ and then¡­ whatever you want to do is fine.¡±  Charlie didn¡¯t meet their eyes, but it was no surprise at all that Josef was the one to take the first step into the room.


    But it was a surprise when Judy was the second.

 Chapter Thirty-Five

    One by one the group of six filtered into the room, they went single file, relying entirely on the one man path that existed amidst the giant dump that his place had become.  When the last of them were in, Charlie closed the door.


    ¡°Leave it open, would you?¡±  Philip asked, ¡°We need the air.¡±


    Charlie swallowed hard and turned the handle, bringing it open again.


    ¡°So¡­ what¡¯s the deal?¡±  Judy demanded, her steely eyes on him as he stood by the door still, without approaching them.


    ¡°I owe you an explanation.  I ignored you all for¡­ I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯s been, I honestly don¡¯t know¡­ I¡¯ve lost track¡­ days run together, everything is¡­ was¡­ a mess, I know what I did.  I¡¯m sorry.¡±  Charlie said and bowed his head.


    That brought them all up short, their uncomfortable looks around the room, their held noses and short breaths all stopped, their bodies tensed, and it was Judy who spoke in her high pitched voice, aggressive and demanding despite his unexpected statement.


    ¡°Are you planning on saying why or just mumbling ¡®I¡¯m sorries¡¯ like that changes anything?  You don¡¯t know what I missed because of you¡­  you think you can just come back in and-¡±


    ¡°People died!¡±  Charlie snapped, and her mouth clamped shut.


    ¡°I was out there, things were fine, things were great¡­ an accident¡­ there was an accident¡­ and some people- look-¡±  Charlie took one step away from the door and held his hands  out with elbows bent near the waist.  ¡°This had nothing to do with you¡­ any of you.  I was part of an accident that hurt people, killed people.  So- So I couldn¡¯t keep it up.  I flew back here and that¡¯s that.  I couldn¡¯t function¡­ I couldn¡¯t live, couldn¡¯t do anything¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ I¡¯m so sorry¡­¡±  Charlie¡¯s lip quivered.  He wanted to tell them the whole truth. ¡°I couldn¡¯t do it!¡±  He finally shouted, ¡°I know I was here but¡­ I wasn¡¯t here! Nothing could be the same and I didn¡¯t know how to keep going!¡±


    At the dismaying display of their usually reserved colleague and friend, they had nothing to say.


    ¡°So I let this,¡±  Charlie swept his arm around the room, ¡°happen and just¡­ I didn¡¯t see it.  For too long I just didn¡¯t see it, any of it, or anyone, or the point in anything¡­¡±


    ¡°So¡­¡± Mark said with a scratch of his dark haired head, ¡°that explains a lot, but what did you do for all this time?¡±


    ¡°I spent a long time just watching loops of movies.  I watched ¡®The Princess Bride¡¯ eleven times in a row one day, I ate, I ordered food, I shit in bags and barely moved¡­ barely existed¡­ and I was so busy with that that I ignored the rest of you¡­ and again¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±  Charlie emphasized.


    ¡°So much for you thinking he was just being a self-indulgent dick, Judy.¡±  A short, slender man in track shorts said somewhat smugly.


    ¡°Shut up, Sye¡­ I can see that.¡±  Judy snapped, then looked back over to Charlie and briefly closed her eyes, ¡°I didn¡¯t know.¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t tell you.  I didn¡¯t tell any of you.¡±  Charlie shook his head hard enough that his jowls flapped a bit.  ¡°I cut myself off, not you, that¡¯s on me¡­ all me¡­ that¡¯s what this is.  That¡¯s why I brought you here¡­ I¡¯m trying¡­ trying to move forward again to whatever happens next.¡±  Charlie turned to one side and gestured toward the door.


    ¡°I asked you here not because I want your sympathy, I don¡¯t deserve your sympathy.¡±  Charlie said, clearing his throat and full of resolve he squared himself off as best as he could with his back straight and his eyes up and on each of their faces in turn, ¡°I asked you here because I owed you this much, if you don¡¯t want me to come running with you, or¡­ or have coffee with you, or to take my calls¡­ I¡¯ll delete your numbers if you say so.  You can go, and know I know this was all my fault.  ¡®All of it!¡¯  He exclaimed and wiped an angry tear away.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    ¡®More than you know¡­¡¯  he thought, but actually said, ¡°But¡­ if it¡¯s OK, if you¡¯re giving me a choice¡­ I know I can¡¯t go back, time travel is impossible, I mean the mechanics of it¡­¡±


    ¡°Charlie¡­¡±  Josef prodded and cleared his throat by coughing into his hand.


    Charlie blushed, ¡°Right¡­ sorry¡­¡±  He mumbled sheepishly, and it actually brought a laugh from the group to see him as he was.


    ¡°What I mean is¡­ I can¡¯t go unfuck what I fucked up.  But if you¡¯ll let me?  I¡¯d rather be around you guys than not.¡±


    ¡°And those of us who are not guys?¡±  Mary said, but without any hostility.  Charlie also could have sworn the curl of her lip was a bemused little smile.


    ¡°Yes, also that.¡±  Charlie chuckled.  ¡°That¡¯s all¡­ if you want to think about it¡­ that¡¯ll be fine.¡±


    Charlie chuckled, ¡°God knows I¡¯ve got a lot of work to do here¡­ the life I let myself slip into¡­ I know, it¡¯s disgusting.  It¡¯ll take me forever to get these heaps cleared off, and then after that I am not looking forward to the mopping.  There¡¯s probably layers of soda caked onto the wood in some spots now, and¡­¡±  A roach skittered into view that made the group inch back in disgust.  ¡°Yeah, then there¡¯s my roommates¡­ I need to evict them all.¡±


    His self effacing criticism was accompanied by a weary rolling of his eyes, ¡°At least the bags with shit are gone and the bathroom is usable now, I¡¯m making progress, look on the bed, there¡¯s even a treadmill.¡±


    He waited for the fat joke.


    None came.


    Instead, they wore serious faces, grave, and traded uncertain silent looks at one another.


    ¡°Whatever you want, I understand, I said what I had to, you don¡¯t have to forgive me and pretend I didn¡¯t just skip out, but¡­ I¡¯ve got work to do, and like I said, this will take forever.¡±


    ¡°Charlie.¡±  Judy said, and picked up his phone.


    ¡°Yeah¡­?¡±  He asked with a furrowed brow.


    ¡°What¡¯s the passcode to your phone?¡±  She asked almost offhandedly while she looked down at it.


    ¡°Five, Eight, Three, Nine.¡±  Charlie said with a deep blush on his face that was brighter than any they¡¯d ever seen.


    It took them seconds to understand it, and where some whistled, others laughed.


    ¡°Bold move, bold move.¡±  Sye said, ¡°Using Judy¡¯s name as your pin code.¡±


    ¡°Sye, man¡­ shut up.¡±  Charlie replied, and that made the slender short man laugh harder than the others.


    Judy neither whistled nor laughed, instead she pushed various buttons with a blush that matched Charlie¡¯s own.


    ¡°There, I¡¯ve deleted my number.¡±  Judy stated.


    Charlie tried not to hide the rising pain in his gut.  ¡°I¡­ I get it.¡±  He said.


    But Judy added, ¡°It changed, I put my new one in.  Use that one, next time.¡±


    Charlie¡¯s face brightened.  He stood a little straighter.  ¡°Great!¡±  He almost ¡®squeaked¡¯ out the unexpected happy word.


    ¡°Yeah, but come on, we¡¯ve got a lot to do.¡±  Mark said, bringing his hand up to rub his temple like his head hurt.


    ¡°Oh¡­ you all have ah, you¡¯re doing something today?¡±  Charlie tried to disguise his envy, and in answer, Mark gave a sharp nod.


    ¡°Yeah, there¡¯s no way you¡¯ve got enough cleaning supplies to unfuck this pigsty and turn it into something liveable again.  For fucks sake, you¡¯re lucky you didn¡¯t die of disease before now.¡±  Mark upbraided him and the others nodded along.


    ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s true but-¡±  Charlie¡¯s protest was cut off.


    ¡°So Josef, do you think you can bring over some cleaning supplies, the rest of us can pick out the beer and snacks¡­ and we can help fix this into something fit for a goddamn human being?¡±  Mark asked.  ¡°You¡¯ve still got Charlie¡¯s black card don¡¯t you?¡±


    ¡°I do, but I don¡¯t have his permission to use it for that.¡±  Josef pointed out.


    Charlie again protested, raising both hands and moving them back and forth at chest height as if to push them away, ¡°Guys¡­ and the rest of you¡­ you don¡¯t have to do this.  This is my mess to clean up, I don¡¯t need help, it¡¯s up to me to-¡±  He was again cut off.


    ¡°Nonsense!  You can be such an ass sometimes Doctor Charlie Manning.¡±  Judy shot back, her arms crossed in front of the ample chest that was hidden by a red t-shirt.  ¡°You could spend weeks on this by yourself and still have feet sticky with soda and syrup and god knows what other fluids from when your toilet didn¡¯t work.¡±  She pinched her nose shut again.  ¡°God just breathing it in¡­ I can taste it¡­¡±


    Judy shook her head.  ¡°What she¡¯s trying to say in her own pig headed way,¡± Mary chimed in, ¡°is that many hands make light work and all of us can get this done faster than you by yourself¡­ you pay for snacks and supplies, and we¡¯ll help you with the rest.  Equivalent exchange, just like that anime you used to like.  Full Metal Panic.¡±


    ¡°Full Metal Alchemist¡­ Mary.  Full Metal Alchemist.¡±  Charlie groaned, then stopped, ¡°You did that on purpose¡­¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±  Mary said and put her hands on her hips and leaned forward a little, ¡°Now shut up, let us help you get rid of this god damn neckbeard nest you¡¯ve got here.¡±


    ¡°And you were trying to be the delicate one?¡±  Charlie shook his head, ¡°Okay¡­ okay, you win, I admit defeat.¡±  He looked over to Josef, ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, that is, run my card at your shop, get enough sandwiches, snacks and drinks for everyone¡­ I¡¯ll¡­¡±


    Charlie swallowed hard again, trying to fight the lump in his throat before he could get out.


    ¡°I¡¯ll let you help me.¡±

 Chapter Thirty-Six

    The lot of them left Charlie behind to continue putting his treadmill together while they picked up various necessary supplies, and that provided him with ample distraction.  ¡®Tiny screws¡­ I ¡®hate¡¯ tiny screws.¡¯  Charlie thought as he dropped one for the fifth time in a row to watch it ping off of the floor and roll around in a circle on the ¡®big¡¯ end of it.  ¡®I should have just paid the guy to put this together.¡¯  He rolled his eyes more than the screw itself as he tried to fit the pieces together that didn¡¯t seem to go together until he actually did succeed.


    As he worked, time went on, but it wasn¡¯t until the knock at his door that he glanced over his shoulder at the orange glow of late afternoon that he realized how much time had really passed.


    ¡°It¡¯s open!¡±  Charlie shouted as he plugged the treadmill into the wall and hit the on switch on the console.


    The knob twisted and they came chattering among one another into his room, they were all holding thin plastic bags that were straining to hold the supplies.  Mark, Philip, and Sye held large boxes full of high bottles.  On the front of all of them was a white demonic figure leaning with its arm resting outside of a circle and holding a large frothing mug in its free hand.  ¡°Arrogant Bastard Ale for the win!¡±  Sye announced, his freckled face tense as he held the brown box at the handles, his arms hung down so that the box was pressed against his thighs making him walk with short, small steps.  He puffed a little and was breathing hard compared to his larger companions.


    ¡°I thought you hated dark beer?¡±  Charlie asked as he took a few tentative steps on the treadmill and it slowly started to move beneath his feet.


    ¡°You¡¯re nuts, I¡¯ve always loved it.¡±  Sye grinned.


    ¡°Well at least you¡¯re sensible.¡±  Charlie said with a wink and turned the treadmill off.


    ¡°You can put them in the kitchen on the counter, but what took you all so long?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Huh?  We¡¯ve been gone for all of thirty odd minutes.¡±  Josef said when he ducked his head under the door frame to enter the room.


    ¡°Okaaaay¡­¡±  Charlie shrugged, ¡°I guess it doesn¡¯t matter, I¡¯m just grateful for the help.¡±  Charlie said as his friends entered the kitchen following the path framed by garbage.


    While the others went in, Josef stopped, set his bag down, and reached into his pocket to pull out a black card which he then held out to Charlie.  ¡°Listen, I don¡¯t like to think of you spending the night here like this, there¡¯s no way we¡¯ll finish and we obviously can¡¯t stay.¡±


    Charlie opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and gave a small, even tiny jerking nod of his head.


    ¡°You always refuse my offers to let you stay at my place-¡±  Josef said, but when he sighed with annoyance all Charlie thought was¡­


    ¡®When did you ever offer that?¡¯


    ¡°But,¡± Josef continued, ¡°if you won¡¯t do that, at least stay in a hotel just for the night, promise me that, and we¡¯ll be happy to help you out tomorrow, we can get this done then.¡±


    Charlie¡¯s shoulders finally slumped forward.  ¡°Fine, fine, fine¡­¡±  he looked up at the giant of a man and closed his fingers over the extended black card.  ¡°I¡¯ll stay at a hotel after we¡¯re done with whatever we can do.¡±


    ¡°Good.¡±  Josef said when Charlie took out his wallet, put the card back in its place, and laid the wallet down on the table.


    ¡°Alright!¡±  Josef exclaimed loudly enough to call the others into the living area and have their full attention.  They looked up at him as they filed back in, and he rubbed his hands together like he¡¯d found a mountain of gold, ¡°It¡¯s been a while since we¡¯ve had a drinking game, so¡­  Here¡¯s what I propose.  Every time we chuck a bag, win a beer¡­ but the trick is, before ¡®anyone¡¯ can drink, we have to have ¡®all¡¯ thrown a bag away.¡±If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    ¡°Well shit.  We¡¯re going to die of alcohol poisoning.¡±  Sarah muttered, briefly drawing a laugh from the rest of their friends while Charlie rubbed the back of his head.


    ¡°There are worse ways to go¡­¡±  He said with a shy sort of glance away from them and out over the sea of refuse.


    ¡°OK!  Let¡¯s get to it!¡±  Judy shouted and grabbed the box of black trash bags like it had tried to nick her wallet.  She yanked a bag out and snapped her wrist sharply to crack open the bag before tossing the box to Charlie.


    He fumbled around, his hands bouncing it back and forth between chest and palms several times, his lower lip curling out and his entire body leaning back while he struggled to get hold of it.  He snorted as he caught it and smiled triumphantly before yanking a bag out and tossing it to Philip.


    Philip did the same and passed it to Sarah, who did the same and tossed it to Sye, who did the same and passed it to Mark, who did the same and finally passed it to Josef by smashing the box aggressively against Josef¡¯s sternum.  Mark then looked up to Josef with his arm still locked out and holding the bag in place and said, ¡°Race you.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re on.¡±  Josef answered with vigor.


    Bags cracked open like rifles ready for inspection, their sharp noise split the air and one of them paused only to turn on their phone, switch on some hard rock, and then they got to work.


    A flurry of activity that was worlds apart from Charlie¡¯s trudging, tired desperation, and the tide of battle turned against the filth and grime and mire of his own existence.  Gloves snapped into place and they took on various areas like a military unit, scavenging the refuse and flinging it into place in the big open mouths of their collective garbage bags.


    ¡°Hey Charlie?¡±  Josef asked as he cinched a bag tightly shut.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±  Charlie asked as he heaved a pile of spoiled crusty pizza ends into his bag.


    ¡°Is the bin outside, and is it open?¡±  Josef asked.


    Charlie got up on tip toe and looked down, ¡°Yeah, yeah it is.¡±


    ¡°Great, we¡¯ll shove the bags out there and save time.


    ¡°Fine, if you say so.¡±  Charlie replied, and Josef did exactly that, strolling over and without any evident effort, he raised his arm up and shoved the bag out the window.  For a moment the bag froze against the side, briefly stuck with its bulk holding it back.


    ¡°Get out.¡±  Josef demanded of the inanimate object as if it was refusing of its own free will, and then he spread his palm over the base of the bag and shoved, it tumbled out, the top of the bag catching the window sill for an instant before it toppled and fell end over end and landed with a crash in the empty bin below.


    ¡°One for me!¡±  Josef answered.


    And so it went for the next few minutes until everyone had thrown out one bag.


    Everyone pulled off their sweat inducing gloves, turned on the water to the sink, and with a sigh of relief they began popping off bottle caps using lighters, counter edges and fists, actual bottle openers, or in Mark¡¯s case, a quarter.


    A sense of ease filled Charlie¡¯s soul as he stood in the circle of the group rather than outside of it, and raised his bottle to the middle with the rest of them.


    ¡°Thanks for the beer!¡±  They said in unison and clinked their bottles together.


    Charlie gave a polite ¡®host-like¡¯ bow.  ¡°I¡¯d say ¡®any time¡¯ but then you¡¯ll drive me to bankruptcy, so instead I¡¯ll just say, you¡¯re welcome, and thank you for the help.¡±


    The rich beer flowed smooth and even ¡®savory¡¯ over his tongue, it mellowed into a sweet sort of butterscotch finish before it reached his throat and the hint of bitterness and little bite was a delight.  ¡®I shouldn¡¯t, not if I want to lose this weight but¡­ better to hold off on that than lose the moment.¡¯  he reasoned, and so he had his first beer with his friends in far, far too long.


    Along the way as they took their first short break, Charlie tried to pick up little details about their lives since his absence.


    As he learned about birthday parties, celebrations, promotions, new nieces and nephews, even a group trip they¡¯d tried and failed to invite him on, the fullness of the lost time began to hit him hard.


    ¡°Damn Judy¡­ I¡¯m sorry¡­ really, I had no idea¡­¡±  Charlie said when she was blinking back tears.


    ¡°Yeah well¡­ thanks.  He wasn¡¯t diagnosed until after you left and I didn¡¯t want your work to suffer for my problems¡­ the rest of them were great.  He passed away peacefully at least.  I did try to tell you¡­ texted you even.  That¡¯s why I ended up changing my number.  After I got nothing from you even though you¡¯d come back, I figured it would be easier to pretend you couldn¡¯t reach me rather than that you didn¡¯t care to.¡±


    ¡°Judy I-¡±  Charlie started to say, stepping closer to her, she put a hand on his flabby bicep.


    ¡°No, if I¡¯d known you were having your own problems, I¡¯d have understood.  If we¡¯d known what you were going through¡­¡±  She glanced over her shoulder where Mark was busy losing an arm wrestling competition with Josef while the others were taunting them both, ¡°we¡¯d have shown up sooner.  We should have checked on you.  I guess we should apologize for that.¡±


    Charlie refused her apology, ¡°No.  I mean if you had¡­ who knows?  But maybe I wasn¡¯t ready.  But thank you anyway for saying it.  Everybody makes mistakes and you¡¯re here now.¡±


    ¡°True.¡±  She said, her tears had vanished and she said, ¡°Maybe after you¡¯re ready, we can do something again.¡±


    ¡°Maybe so.¡±  Charlie said and brought his beer up to his lips to finish it off.  He slapped it down on the counter at the same moment Josef slammed Mark¡¯s hand down on the table.


    ¡°Back to it?!¡±  Mark said before anyone could tease him over the inevitable loss.


    Beer bottles came down on surfaces like soldiers ending a unified march.


    And then Charlie woke up, his eyes cracking open to the sound of chirping outside his window, it was immediately obvious that wherever he was, the bed he was in was not his own.

 Chapter Thirty-Seven

    Charlie¡¯s eyes blinked several times as the light slowly came on, illuminating the room with a dimness that was slowly rising as the minutes ticked by until it was daylight.  ¡°What am I¡­?¡±  Charlie mumbled.  The sheets rustled barely at all underneath him when he rolled over to face the wall.


    The furnishings looked familiar, but the fog of memory from his sleep still hadn¡¯t completely lifted, nor had the bleariness really gone from his eyes for several seconds.


    ¡®Dark wood furniture, arch back chairs¡­ the business desk with the built in blotter¡­ rectangular bedside table with a lamp on it and nothing else but¡­ yep, white phone.  No question about it.  I¡¯m in the Seelbach.¡¯  Charlie realized.


    ¡®Wait¡­¡¯  he realized, ¡®Just ¡®why¡¯ am I in the Seelbach¡­?¡¯  Charlie asked himself and then pushed himself up off one arm and rolled over on his back to rise into a seated position.


    The soft pillow pressed back against the dark cherry wood headboard and his eyes finally adjusted¡­ and his brain caught up, to everything around him.  ¡°Last night¡­ yesterday?¡±  Charlie frowned, the corners of his mouth going deeply down.


    ¡°You woke me up.¡±  He heard the feminine voice and looked down to his right where Judy lay on her side with her cheek on her hands which were closed together like a prayer posture.


    Charlie blinked several times, ¡°Wha- ho- whe- did we¡­¡±  He felt himself turning several shades of red and he snatched up the blanket and sheets over him and yanked them up to see if he was dressed.


    Judy had a big, broad smile on her face that spread from end to end, more the way he remembered her before his travels and work took him away in all the ways that mattered.


    She started laughing as his open mouth hung frozen, and then sat up.  ¡°Relax, idiot.  Nothing happened.¡±  She rolled off the bed and stood up, she was obviously wearing a hotel robe of white silk with the gold lining on the trim.  ¡°We¡¯ve all got rooms here, you said you felt bad about being the only one to get a luxury stay, so you got us all suites.  Nice of you.¡±


    Charlie slid himself over the other side of the bed, ¡°And you got in¡­ how?  And when?¡±


    ¡°You dropped your spare key, I came to return it, saw you asleep, and thought this would be hilarious.  I did ask Sarah or Mary to join me in here and ¡®really¡¯ mess with your head a bit¡­ but they said no.¡±  Judy shrugged it off, ¡°They were always a little shy, I guess.¡±


    ¡°Right¡­ ah, prank well done and I am surprised.¡±  Charlie answered as Judy reached into her robe and extended the key to him.


    He took it a little faster from her hand than he needed to.


    ¡°So, about my apartment¡­¡±  Charlie said, but stopped when she tilted her chin up a little with no small sense of cockiness about her.


    ¡°I know, right?  Can you believe we finished all that, it¡¯s a good thing we got started early every day, it¡¯s looking a lot better now, one more good mopping and it¡¯s liveable again.  Of course ¡®I¡¯ did the most work.¡±


    ¡°Meh, Josef did his fair share.¡±  Charlie pointed out, doing his best to cover his confusion.


    ¡°Maybe for the first two days.¡±  Judy pointed out, ¡°But fair enough, I¡¯ll cut him some slack, given the circumstances.¡±


    ¡°Right the¡­ circumstances.  Ah, listen Judy, I¡¯d like to get a bath before checking out, do you mind?¡±  He asked and inclined his head toward the bathroom door.


    ¡°Oh, no, go ahead.  Everybody else is already up anyway, we¡¯ll be downstairs in an hour, thanks again for the rooms, it was nice being pampered for once.¡±  Judy said and with a little wave, she walked out of the door, and Charlie could not take his eyes off of her wavy blonde hair and the way it swayed back and forth against her back, or the way it caught the light that came through the window and glinted like golden thread.


    She left and shut the door with a click behind her and only then was Charlie able to make himself move, going into the bathroom, he turned on the water and sealed the drain with the little rubber plug.


    The echo of the flooding waters roaring into the tub was a little louder than Charlie liked, and so he stepped out of the white bathroom and away from the dark marble sink to fetch his clothes.


    He yawned deeply, ¡®This is¡­ bizarre¡­ side effect maybe?  The experiment?  Multiple experiments across dimensions¡­ or am I just¡­ nuts?  Losing my memory¡­ think Charlie¡­¡¯  He set the clothes on the toilet and stepped into the bath.  Turning off the water, he sank down into the heat and felt the tension drain away.  The water slowly rose as he went deeper and stopped when he came to rest at the bottom.  ¡°Eight point three pounds to gallon density and based on how much the water went up, I¡¯m displacing about thirty-two gallons so I¡¯m roughly two hundred and seventy pounds.¡±  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.


    It was a depressing thought at the very least.  ¡®Things are off¡­ aren¡¯t they?  No¡­ yes¡­¡¯  He returned to the matter at hand and then struck a more important question.  ¡®Does it even matter?¡¯


    He had no answer to that either, and so he finished washing and got up, out of the tub, and dried off.  The hotel clearly hadn¡¯t skimped on the towel quality, so he took his time in padding himself dry until he was ready to leave.


    A shave, a change of clothes, and a set of brushed teeth later, and he was out the door, everything he had was clearly his, right down to the overnight bag.  ¡®I¡¯m losing time¡­ got to be¡­¡¯  Charlie tightened his lips on his way down the long hall.  They were cream colored and lined with ornate lamps with half shades up like bowls, at the center was a wide curving staircase of golden trim and smooth piano finish wood with a rich royal blue trimmed rug that had a dark center and a silver flanking the center black.  Down below the columned room was filled with marble stone, along with the floors, and the columns which made the height of Roman design appear to be a child¡¯s fort.  Charlie approached the curved check in desk where a young woman in a business skirt and with her makeup as well done as it was needless, smiled beneath bright green eyes and accepted his room cards when he offered them.


    ¡°Doctor Manning.¡±  He said before she could even ask, her ruby lips kept their smile as she pulled up his information.


    ¡°Alright, thank you for your stay Doctor Manning, please come again, I¡¯ve got you checked out, would you like a copy of your receipt?¡±  She asked while it printed out from her side of the black stone counter.


    ¡°No, no need.¡±  Charlie said and slung the black leather overnight bag over his shoulder.


    ¡°Charlie!¡±  He heard his name and turned around, at his back were his familiar friends, he waved, contented.  ¡°Hey!¡±  he said and walked away from the counter to meet them where they sat around in the open lobby area.


    ¡°Ready for one more push?¡±  Mark asked, the half beard on his face showed he hadn¡¯t shaved that day, but Charlie wasn¡¯t about to criticize, so he answered with a very enthusiastic¡­


    ¡°Yes!¡±


    The trip back to his apartment wasn¡¯t alone, they snagged an Uber van and made it back to the building within twenty minutes, chattering away and filling Charlie in openly on everything he¡¯d tried to be circumspect about before.


    The van was crowded, and more than a little self conscious about his position making it crowded, Charlie pressed himself as much as possible against the side wall.


    This time, he didn¡¯t feel the need to brace himself for fat jokes, instead they drew him into the conversation, and occasionally he felt Judy¡¯s hand linger a little longer than necessary when she touched him one place or another by accident through being crowded, or by intent when she asked him something or offered some tidbit herself.


    It made the ride a quick one, and almost like college kids again, they piled out of the van like an avalanche.  Memories of more wild college years before they¡¯d all ¡®grown up¡¯ were exciting ones to relive for the moment while they went up the stairs.


    Charlie took the lead and grasped the handle to his door, he took a deep breath, turned it, and opened the door inside.


    Empty.


    Relatively speaking.


    The room was filled with the light from the window.


    It still had a bed, but the filthy one was gone.


    There was still a path to the kitchen.


    But the path was literally wherever he was standing, Charlie could have gone to the kitchen.


    All the garbage had been removed.


    ¡°Many hands make light work in everything you do.¡±  Mark said with a clear sense of pride as they followed him into the room.  The treadmill sat against a wall with the television hung up in front of it, there were still stains on the floor that needed to be mopped.


    But it was otherwise clean.  Except for one thing that caught Charlie¡¯s eye.


    A little fragment of blue in the corner.  He approached and picked it up while the rest of his friends came in.  He held it with care between two fingers, this time he didn¡¯t cut himself on the glass when trying to identify it.  ¡®Hmpf, another piece of the bowl.¡¯  He realized and went into the kitchen with the others following after.


    Charlie set the piece on the counter, the other pieces were still left in their place, though now they had a small ashtray holding them all so none could be lost.  He added that one to the mix.  There were now six fragments there, and one to go ¡®somewhere¡¯ in that room.


    ¡°So¡­¡±  he said to them while someone in the bathroom turned on the water and the sound of a bucket being filled carried into the rest of the apartment.  Sarah began passing around a small white box with disposable medical gloves, ¡°What¡¯s next?¡±


    ¡°Wrap this up and then¡­ well with Josef away, there¡¯s not much.  You plan on continuing to run with us in the morning, don¡¯t you Charlie?¡±  Judy asked and sidled up close to him.


    ¡°Yes, yes I do.¡±  Charlie relaxed and couldn¡¯t help but grin, ¡°I need to get moving again¡­ so¡­ how about we finish this off, and¡­ I should get a couch or something, one more ¡®big¡¯ purchase I guess.  I don¡¯t really have space to seat you all as it is.¡±


    ¡°Very true.¡±  Sye quipped, he ran a hand through his short red hair sheepishly, ¡°Just make sure you don¡¯t get stools, I feel short enough already.¡±


    ¡°Now that is a shit joke if ever I heard one.¡±  Mark quipped.


    Sye opened his mouth, raised a finger to say something, then slowly closed his mouth and lowered his finger.


    A collective round of laughter was shared again and Charlie snapped gloves in place on his hands and reached for a scrubbing sponge while the others grabbed rags or mops and got to work.


    Soon the smell of pine was everywhere, the stench from before their help had come his way was gone entirely as if it had never been there at all.


    They were entirely done before noon, the last bucket was dumped and the final sponge wrung out and the last bit of filth sent down the drain.  Roach traps were picked up and emptied, and for good measure, Mark even picked up the last black trash bag in the room, bound it up, and dropped it out the window to crash into the bin outside, while Mary replaced the bag herself.


    The rubber gloves came off and followed the bag out the window to fall slowly down to join the rest of the trash outside the building, and driven by one singular moment of common inspiration, every hand clapped together up and down in a decisive ¡®dusting off¡¯ motion, to show that they were done.


    Charlie swallowed the lump in his throat at the look of his home¡­ ¡°I can never thank you enough¡­ how it felt¡­ and¡­ just now I¡­ all that work¡­¡±


    ¡°Just buy the beer for the next run, come join us again¡­ and again¡­ and again¡­ and the next time¡­ hopefully there isn¡¯t but if there is¡­ just don¡¯t run off and hide yourself.  Promise me that, and we¡¯ll call it even.¡±  Mark asked.


    Charlie couldn¡¯t say another word, he wasn¡¯t sure he could get them out, a relief flooded over him of the sort he hadn¡¯t known in the longest time.  He nodded as hard and fast as he could, and accepted their friendly smacks to his shoulder or the quick ¡®half hugs¡¯ he got from Mary, Sarah, and Judy before the rest of them walked out and closed the door behind them, leaving Charlie alone.


    Alone¡­


    And happy.

 Chapter Thirty-Eight

    The next day, Charlie was up many hours before the sun rose.  He went into his kitchen and pulled a small bag of flour from a corner cabinet and brought it into the living area.  He threw on some clothes and brought a hand up to his mouth to stifle a yawn.  Charlie¡¯s body was heavy, tired.


    The bed looked so appealing, even as a mere outline in the darkness.


    ¡°No, they¡¯re letting you do this.  You can¡¯t show up and mumble ¡®oops, I forgot¡¯, or¡­ ¡®oops, I slept in¡¯,  or anything absurd.  They¡¯re counting on you.¡±  Charlie told himself and stifled another yawn.


    He arched his back and tilted his head up, his hands bent behind him as he cracked his bones just a little bit and stretched out to help himself awaken further.


    Then his bleary eyes went clear with sudden alarm.  ¡®Wait!  Did I¡­ I didn¡¯t¡­ did I?!  I didn¡¯t buy beer!¡¯  Then he froze, and began to rethink events.  Alone in the darkness of his apartment, he began to rethink every little thing.


    ¡®I fade out, things are different¡­ I fade in¡­ time seems to have passed, people remember things I don¡¯t¡­ little things¡­ off¡­ so caught up in myself that I didn¡¯t think¡­¡¯  Charlie began to run through the possibilities with more urgency.  ¡®How to confirm¡­ how to¡­¡¯  He thought back to the incident with the wine.  ¡®I ¡®know¡¯ I bought that wine.  But then it wasn¡¯t there.  And how many times did I dispose of a clock?¡¯


    Charlie immediately strode back to the kitchen and put his hand on the refrigerator door.  The dark smooth plastic was cool to the touch, the shadow of the room was almost comforting as his heart began to race.  The little things he¡¯d been too oblivious to notice began to add up to an ugly equation in his head.


    ¡°Side effect¡­¡±  He murmured, and to test his hypothesis he gritted his teeth, his arm was fully extended and stiff as a dry board.  What he was waiting for?  What he was hoping for?  Charlie tried to understand both of those questions, but he was at a loss.


    ¡°Just fling it open.  Coward.  Just do it!¡±  He half shouted, but he didn¡¯t.


    Instead he pulled only slowly, the door cracking open and the dim glow of the light hit him an instant before the chilly air.  The interior had been completely wiped clean by Sarah¡¯s diligent efforts to the point where it almost looked brand new.  Charlie¡¯s eyes began at the top level, nothing.  The next shelf.  Nothing.  ¡®Embarrassingly nothing¡­ just a few scraps left behind by Josef.¡¯  Charlie couldn¡¯t help but shake his head at that.


    Then down his gaze went to the widest shelf, and there it was.


    Beer.  ¡®Not Stone Brewery quality¡­ but not far off¡­ and just the sort of stuff I¡¯d buy for this kind of event.¡¯  Six packs stacked two high, three across, and three deep all the way to the back.


    ¡®When could I have done this¡­?¡¯  He asked himself, and couldn¡¯t find an answer, his mind was a fog as thick as pea soup.


    Like memories were there, but only visible through a thick haze.


    For just a moment, Charlie¡¯s heart rate accelerated faster and faster, it became hard to breath as he grasped through the fog for more and more information he hadn¡¯t been able to process before.  ¡®How many?  How long?  Did something else do this¡­ am I¡­¡¯


    Then he stopped.  He looked down at the beer again, then slowly closed the refrigerator door.  The seal crackled as it shut with a light snap, and he returned to the other room and opened up his computer.


    A PIN entry and he opened up a browser.  ¡®Alright, this isn¡¯t definitive, but it can¡¯t hurt.¡¯  Charlie told himself and searched for ¡®Nelson Mandela¡¯s death¡¯.


    He clicked on the top entry, a wiki which scrolled upward as he rolled his mouse wheel toward himself.  The information was par for the course, everything he vaguely recalled about the former popular figure and then down to what he sought.  ¡°Died in prison in nineteen-eighty-four.¡±  Charlie read it out loud.  ¡°So that¡¯s normal¡­¡±  He muttered, though there was a vague memory of the one time figure going on to be President of South Africa and dying in twenty-thirteen¡­ ¡®Mandela effect¡­ false memories or intersections¡­  Multiverse intersection was one of the possible predictions, since memories are chemical but our brain waves are essentially oscillating electrical voltages and that involves electrons which themselves interact with the quanta that are not bound to a dimension¡­ memories could theoretically be carried between them¡­ could people?  No.  I am not a flipping quark¡­ that would be stupid¡­ at least not without technology I haven¡¯t even dreamt of¡­¡¯This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    He grimaced and closed the laptop with a click.


    Answers.  He hungered for them all his life, the unknown was exciting, foreboding, his felt his skin tingle at the prospect, and a whole new world of possibility opened up to him, laid out like a vast and unexplored wilderness.  Whatever fear or anxiety he felt, faded away.


    ¡®What an amazing thing¡­ what a¡­¡¯  He let the thought drift off and slumped back in his seat, tilting his head back to stare up at the night cloaked ceiling.


    ¡®No, it isn¡¯t that¡­ this is how I felt¡­ before.  My purpose¡­ my reason to be¡­ always to know more¡­ I can¡¯t help it¡­ what I did was terrible¡­ but this isn¡¯t the end¡­ I¡¯m still here.  So is everyone else¡­ what did Josef say?¡¯  He wondered and tried to pluck the memory from his mind, ¡°Something about things still needing to be done¡­¡±  Charlie muttered and scratched his head.


    The exact words were forgotten, but the spirit of the message was not, and so he got up, went to his bag, dumped out the old clothes onto the bed, then went to the fridge and packed the beer inside with the little bag of flour and went out to lay the trail for his friends to enjoy.


    It took an hour and a half in the darkness to lay even a short trail, but he didn¡¯t mind.


    If anything, the tingle in Charlie¡¯s body had grown to ever greater levels of excitement, with only the faintest hint of anxiety.  ¡®I¡¯m running alone today¡­ Josef is gone so¡­ oh well.  Even if they run ahead, I¡¯ll catch up one day.¡¯  He promised himself when he dropped off his bag back at his room and went to sleep again until it would be time to go out for his run.


    The beeping of a little blue alarm clock woke him with minutes to spare that he didn¡¯t even really need.  Within less than a minute, Charlie was up bright, eager, and outside in the crisp predawn air.  It was cooler now than it had been, and the group was wearing longer running clothing, though nobody was shivering and a collective set of hands rose up to wave to him when he came into view.


    ¡°Who¡¯s ready for a run?¡±  Charlie asked.


    ¡°Me!¡±  All six said at once.


    ¡°Who¡¯s ready for drinks?¡±  He asked.


    ¡°Uh, none of us, we have to work today.¡±  Sarah said with a raised brow.  ¡°It¡¯s Friday, not Saturday.¡±


    ¡°Oh¡­ right¡­ right.¡±  Charlie snapped his thick fingers and covered quickly by pointing out, ¡°Not having a job right now, you know I¡­¡±


    ¡°You could get one if you wanted.¡±  Judy pointed out, ¡°But if you don¡¯t really need it, just do what you like, not to worry.  If you hid it well, it¡¯ll be safe where you left it, and if¡­ you¡­¡±  She trailed off.


    Charlie visibly bit his tongue and hissed.


    ¡°You didn¡¯t, did you?¡±  Sye asked.


    ¡°No¡­ not¡­ not really.¡±  Charlie admitted.  ¡°So-rry¡­ I¡¯ll just take it up as we go.¡±


    ¡°No big deal, easy problems, easy fixed, those are the best kind.¡±  Mary pointed out with a snap of her fingers.


    ¡°Ready?¡±  Mark asked, and Charlie took his place at the back of the group.


    ¡°Ready.¡±  He replied, and as he often did, Charlie imagined a gun going off, and he began to jog.


    His eyes were closed for a minute, there was only the feel of the cool air that wasn¡¯t enough for him to freeze his breath, the darkness deepened around him, and there was the feel of his heavy feet on the hard concrete.


    There was the sound of Charlie¡¯s breath, and then something else.


    Absurd as it might have been, he didn¡¯t recognize the sound at first.


    Other feet.


    His eyes flew open while his heart pumped even harder than before, and he reflexively looked down.


    There they were.


    He raised his head and looked ahead and saw the back of Mark¡¯s head directly in front of him.  The trails Charlie laid were ignored, the little flour markers guiding them down various false paths were passed by.  In other circumstances, he might have been bothered, but when they hit the first stopping point, his suspicions were confirmed.


    Judy approached a bush where a flour circle was dusted about and darted her hand into the dark shrouded foliage.  She yanked out a half of a six pack.  ¡°I got this one.¡±  She said with a radiant smile over her face that Charlie was sure wouldn¡¯t have needed the nearby street lamp to light up her face.


    Then it was on to the next spot.


    And the next.


    And the next.


    At each spot, one of the group snatched up the hidden stash and jogged along holding the rest until they made it back aground, skipping the end point at the Seattle¡¯s Best coffee shop, they instead made for the starting point, six packs of beer tucked under their collective arms, huffing and puffing with the extra effort of carrying more weight, their shoes scraping over pavement with every step, until they made it back to the start as a group.


    Charlie hunched over with his hands just over his knees.  ¡°Th-Thanks¡­ th-that would have taken forever by myself.¡±


    ¡°Sure thing.¡±  Judy said and swatted him on the ass.


    He jumped a bit, but brushed it off to cover any confusion.


    ¡°Ah, yeah so¡­ we didn¡¯t get coffee this morning like usual, so¡­ why don¡¯t I just have a dasher bring some to us at my place, I still haven¡¯t got enough space for everyone to sit on furniture but it¡¯s something?¡±  Charlie proposed.


    ¡°Sure, we cleaned the damn place well enough.¡±  Philip teased and the rest of them nodded as if he had uttered sage wisdom.


    ¡°Agreed, let¡¯s go.¡±  Mark gave the decisive suggestion and Charlie headed across the street to the door of his building.


    ¡°Oh, say, do any of you all know when Josef is coming back?¡±  Charlie asked, and suddenly they all fell silent.


    ¡°Oh¡­ you haven¡¯t heard¡­ have you?¡±  Sarah asked, and Charlie¡¯s blood ran cold.

 Chapter Thirty-Nine

    ¡°Heard what?¡±  Charlie asked, his voice suddenly hushed as dread creeped over him, he stopped at the top of the steps of the first landing when she spoke, but Judy put her hand on his shoulder.


    ¡°We should go inside first.¡±  Judy encouraged, lightly closing her fingers over his still doughy flesh, and Charlie nodded with a lump in his throat.


    They made their way inside, Charlie turned the knob on his door and opened it to let them all inside.


    ¡°I ordered the dasher.¡±  Sye said and put away his phone then followed the others to store the beer again, ¡°Just a generic box of coffee and enough cups for all of us¡­¡±  His pale freckled face was tense, his light colored pink lips pressed tight and tense.


    ¡°So¡­¡±  Charlie cleared his throat and closed the door.


    It clicked shut and Charlie turned around to face them just as the refrigerator closed out of view and they returned to the living area.


    Charlie barely registered what Sye said, and hoarsely demanded, ¡°What happened?¡±


    ¡°So¡­ after Mileva left him for that job¡­¡±  Mary folded her hands in front of her, ¡°You know¡­ the one she took after she got that recommendation?¡±


    ¡°Yesss¡­ what about it?¡±  Charlie asked, going over to his bed and sitting down on the edge of the mattress.  He opened and closed his hands over and over until Judy came and sat at his right side, she covered his tense hand with hers and pressed it down so that he palmed his knee.  The other hand stopped twitching, and Mary went on.


    Her soft brown hair hung in a ponytail that swayed when she shook her head.


    Mark picked up when she was unable to continue, ¡°There was an accident¡­ she was working on¡­ kind of what you do¡­ or¡­ did.¡±


    Charlie¡¯s breath caught.  ¡°No way¡­ there¡¯s just no way!  He almost shot to his feet with his eyes wide as saucers, ¡°Nowhere in the world has the kind of equipment I worked with!¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know about that¡­ Charlie.¡±  Philip interjected and approached, he put a hand on Charlie¡¯s shoulder.  ¡°There¡¯s just¡­ just ¡®gone¡¯.  They don¡¯t know what she even did but¡­ Josef will be back¡­ but he¡¯s got to see to her final affairs there.  He¡¯ll hold a funeral here when he returns.¡±


    ¡°When will that be?¡±  Charlie asked, ¡°He hasn¡¯t called me¡­ he hasn¡¯t said anything to me¡­ I¡¯m sure of that¡­¡±  Charlie insisted, but quietly thought, ¡®...aren¡¯t I?¡¯  Entered his head and made itself at home in a way that he could not get rid of it.


    The dasher arrived a moment later, the knock on the door drew Sye¡¯s attention.  He opened the entrance, accepted the food, signed the digital receipt and then closed the door a moment later.


    The coffee box was large, brown, and angled like a trapezoid with a handle on top and a little white cap.


    They were quiet while Sye carried the box and the little bag of cups into the kitchen.


    There was only the sound of pouring liquid and the sight of steam rising from the little disposable brown cups.


    Sye took the lead in pouring one for each of them, and one by one they approached, the earlier favorable mood turned somber and grim.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Sye was looking down, as most of them were, when he said, ¡°Huh, I guess we missed something.¡±  He then crouched down and picked up a little blue fragment of glass and set it into the white ashtray on the counter that held the other six pieces.


    Charlie took a sip of coffee, opened his mouth to speak.


    Then he woke up in his bed.


    The room was empty, the apartment was empty, it was broad daylight out, a little black alarm clock ticked off another minute just as his eyes opened.


    He turned his head to face the kitchen and there it was.  The box of coffee, the set of cups, there was no steam coming out of them any longer, though he wasn¡¯t sure from where he lay if they were empty or just cold.


    The white cap wasn¡¯t on the box anymore, and everything else seemed clean and normal.


    Charlie rolled out of bed and looked himself over.  He felt a tiny bit lighter, and made a mental note to buy a scale later.  He was dressed in silk pajamas that were a vibrant bright blue shade, and had a vague memory of that being one of the sets he¡¯d ordered.  A quick shower in boiling hot water and a change of clothes later, then he went for the kitchen, passing the treadmill by and when he reached the counter, looked down to find the cups either empty or nearly so, he touched a finger to the black liquid.  ¡®Cold.¡¯  He thought and felt suddenly a little chill run over the rest of him.


    Still damp from the shower, the chill air caressed him like an eager lover and caused his body, but with discomfort rather than want or desire.


    Returning to the living area, he found the window open and the faintest dusting of snow starting to fall outside.  He approached, poked his head out, and looked around.


    The dusting from above had been going for some time, that was clear, the road had slush made over it, the alley down below was coated so thoroughly that it was an unbroken sea of cloudy white.


    The trees were naked, bare of their leaves and no evidence of birds was to be had.


    The breeze which kissed his face was draining away the warmth of his body, and so Charlie drew his head back into the apartment and closed the window hard enough that the base of it let out a loud ¡®smack¡¯ noise immediately.


    Charlie let out a shudder.  ¡°Nope¡­ just¡­ nope.¡±  he said aloud and went to the kitchen again.


    The object of his interest were the blue fragments, ¡®How long ago did I break you?¡¯  He asked himself, and then dumped them unceremoniously on the countertop.


    He began to fit the pieces together, using the outline of the span between his thumb and forefinger as a backstop to hold the fragments of one side in place, then constructing it like an arch, he secured the others until he was looking down into a completed empty bowl.


    ¡°Hmpf, yup, that¡¯s all the pieces.¡±  Charlie said and let out a tiny sigh of relief, ¡°It¡¯s hard to believe a piece skittered all the way to the fridge but¡­ stranger things have happened.¡±  He snorted, every single day seemed to be proof of that at least.


    He removed his hands and let the fragments fall backwards again when he heard the phone ringing with Beethoven¡¯s ninth symphony.


    Leaving the kitchen, he went to the end table, snatched it up off the charger, input the pin number and answered the call, he put it on speaker and said in a clear, loud voice, ¡°You¡¯ve got Charlie.¡±


    He walked back to the kitchen and listened, at first there was nothing.


    So Charlie approached his wine fridge and cracked it open.  He could hear heavy breathing.  ¡°Hello?¡±  He asked again and looked at the face of the phone.


    ¡®Unknown number?¡¯  he read it and pulled open a drawer.


    A familiar bottle of wine, label up, stared back at him, and bore with it the memory of the woman who sold it to him, the puzzle, the radiant smile and the number he never called back¡­


    Charlie took a deep breath, ¡®No way to know¡­ and it wouldn¡¯t do any good anyway¡­¡¯  He told himself, and realized the phone was still on and the call was still ongoing.


    ¡°Hello?  If you¡¯re saying anything, I can¡¯t hear you.  To whom am I speaking?¡±  Charlie asked and closed the wine fridge before taking up the phone and returning to the bits of his broken bowl.


    ¡®I¡¯ll need some glue, I guess¡­ if I want to fix that.¡¯  He thought and opened the top of the trashcan.


    He picked up the boxed coffee, it had some weight to it still. ¡®About half full.¡¯  He guessed, and then he glanced at the phone again.


    ¡°Listen if this is a pervert¡¯s crank call, I¡¯m an overweight male scientist, the only thing your breathing is going to do for me is give me a chance to do weird equations in my head, like figure out how much of your panting it would take to float a hot air balloon.¡±


    Charlie almost hung up, he heard a voice at last instead of just the constant heavy breathing that had been there earlier.


    ¡°Ch-Charlie¡­?¡±  Josef said, his voice was a broken ruin, the face of the cheerful jolly and gentle giant came immediately to mind and he could not match the voice to the face in his memories.


    ¡°Yeah!  Yeah Josef, it¡¯s me!  Are you back, what¡¯s going on?!¡±  Charlie asked, his heart racing in haste.


    He dropped the box of old coffee into the bin and gave the phone his full attention.


    ¡°I¡­ no¡­ yes¡­ yes I¡¯m back¡­ Mileva¡­ it¡¯s¡­ I-I need help.  Please.¡±  Josef whispered, his voice a shattered remnant of the booming one that filled any room that heard it, there was only one answer.


    ¡°Just stay in your apartment!  I¡¯ll be right there!¡±  Charlie exclaimed, the phone hung up on the other end, and in one smooth motion, Charlie swept everything on the counter, fragments and old cups and all, into the bin, shoved his phone into his back pocket, then ran out of his apartment and into the snow, without looking back.