The next morning Bea was feeling good. It was foggy and the radio indicated the possibility of freezing rain, but she couldn’t help herself. She hugged her dad before leaving the apartment, donned her jacket and scarf, and headed in to work.
Germ was there waiting for her again.
“Hi Bea,” he said with a smile. Quite an accomplishment when you have a beak instead of a mouth, but Bea had come to know his mannerisms.
“Hi Germ. How are you doing? I never talk to you much.”
She opened the door for him and shut it behind her.
“Oh, no problem Bea. Got company over again. Seems like we always have some relation or other staying with us. Lots of times I don’t even know who they are! But it’s kinda fun having so much going on all the time. These are from upstate. They talk funny, but they’re okay.”
“Well, you let me know if you need some time alone. The back room is always available. Hey, Germ… I’m feeling bold today. Let’s crank that thermostat all the way up to 70! What do you say?”
“Sure!”
He practically hopped back to turn the thermostat up and she let out a little laugh that felt strange in the old place.
“You’re such an idiot Bea,” she admonished herself. “You’re all giddy just because you touched a dick. You might as well start dressing in floral patterns and wearing cute hats.”
Part of her wanted to slap herself out of it, but most of her was simply happy.
“What’s up today?” Germ asked when he came back. “More inventory?”
“No, I changed my mind. Let’s clean the old place up instead. I feel like doing real work for a change, and it’s been ages. Can you get the cleaning stuff from the warehouse?”
“Will do, Bea.”
Shortly afterwards Bea found herself mopping the floors, while Germ was washing the windows.
“So, Bea. Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“Casey of course!”
Bea drew in her breath and sighed, long and audibly.
“You know?”
“I was the audience last night you know.”
“Yeah. Casey. I guess I can’t keep it a secret much longer anyway. Me and Casey.”
“He wrote that song for you, didn’t he?”
“Yup. It’s my song,” Bea said wistfully, stopping her mopping.
“Must be nice.”
“It is, Germ. It’s the most… profound thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Bea’s in love,” Germ practically chirped.
“I guess so,” she laughed. “Who’d ever have guessed that could happen?”
“Oh, it’s not so weird,” Germ replied. “You’re not quite the rock you think you are. Never have been.”
“No, I guess I’m not,” Bea admitted. “But Germ… it’s so wonderful and terrible at the same time. I get angry easily, I know. But I don’t get scared, Germ. I’ve never been someone who gets scared.”
“Scared? What’s there to be scared of?”
“You don’t understand, Germ. It makes you so… oh, I don’t know what the word is. Vulnerable? Yeah. It makes you so vulnerable. That’s not something I’m comfortable with.”
“Well, I’m no philosopher Bea, but I think that’s kinda what life is. It’s fragile, no matter how hard you try to be. But it’s nice to see you smile. I don’t think I ever saw you smile before last week. Now you’re practically beaming. You deserve it Bea. Everyone in town knows what you’ve been through. You deserve a little happiness.”
“Well, thanks Germ. You’re a good friend. Just… don’t tell Angus or Gregg yet. Let me and Casey tell them.”
“No problem.”
The bell rang. A regular. Bea looked up, dusted herself off and opened the door.
“Hey Germ, can you do the back room? I’d like to get that done too this morning. I’ll run the shop.”
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“No problem, Bea.”
An hour later, the store was empty again and Bea was going over some receipts when Germ stepped out of the back room holding something. He didn’t say anything and Bea looked up.
“Germ? What is it?”
He didn’t answer. He held out his hands over the counter.
“No.”
Bea’s eyes grew large and she felt the blood leave her face.
“Oh no. Oh god! Germ!”
“It was behind some boxes, over by the blanket.”
Bea took what Germ held in his hands, not wanting to believe what she was seeing, but once she held the paraphernalia physically, she could no longer deny it.
“NO!!!” Bea wailed. Her legs began to shake uncontrollably before they turned to noodles and buckled, and she fell to her knees just staring at what she held.
Germ raced around behind the counter and helped her to a sitting position. Her eyes were wet and red already, mascara and eye-shadow running like dark rivers down her eyes.
“Oh Germ. Please wake me up! PLEASE don’t let this be real!”
His own voice shaking, Germ hugged her close. “Sorry Bea. I’m so sorry!”
“Oh god. No. Why here? Anywhere but here! Germ!”
The bell rang and Germ looked up from behind the counter. Another customer.
“Wait here, Bea. I’m going to close up.”
Bea looked up at him and focused for a moment.
“Yes. Yes, do that. Tell them something came up and I had to close. I’ll give them a discount tomorrow or something. Put up a sign.”
“Okay Bea. I’ll be back as soon as I get things squared away.”
She heard Germ talking with the customer, but she wasn’t hearing right. She couldn’t concentrate on what he said. Her heart felt like lead, beating in her chest.
And then she began to think beyond what she was seeing. Her grief turned to rage in increments, but with each passing second the rage became hotter.
“Bea, are you going to be alright?”
Her mascara-streaked eyes looked at him. The bloodshot eyes no longer sought comfort. They had turned hard, but also a deep sadness lay behind them.
“No Germ. I’m not going to be alright ever again I don’t think. Oh Germ. I’ve been so stupid. So GOD DAMNED STUPID!”
She began hitting herself in the head. Germ grabbed her hands and held them together in front of her.
“No, Bea. You’ve been human. Like everyone else that has ever lived. Bea, I know what you’re going through. You’ve been insulating yourself from the world for so long, you’ve forgotten how badly it can hurt. But the only people who don’t hurt are dead. Don’t be dead to the world, Bea. It didn’t work out. But it’s not the end of the world. For you or him. Don’t shut out the whole world because of this.”
Bea looked at Germ for the first time. Really looked at him.
“What are you, Germ?”
“Me? I’m… just Germ. I play video games. I watch you play in the band. I help you around the place. That’s all. I’m just Germ.”
“No. You’re not just Germ. You’re my friend. You’re everyone’s friend. Oh Germ, I’m sorry I could never be more than a friend to you. You deserve… more.”
“Oh Bea, now you’re just being emotional. Snap out of it. I don’t need more. I like being everybody’s friend! I have this uncle though. He’s a janitor. He says these things, like ‘You can’t stop things from breaking, but you can try to keep them from getting worse. And then you try to fix them. You’ve got to learn skills to fix things right though.’ That’s all I am. I want to be like him. I want to fix things.”
“Sorry Germ. I guess you’re right. But damn it hurts. It hurts so goddamn much!”
“I know,” he said, stroking her hands. “I know, Bea.”
“Have you ever been in love?”
“ME? Oh hell no! Thank God no! But I’ve seen it before. I don’t know why people make such a big deal out of it. It always ends in tragedy. Ever Damn Time. And yet…”
“And yet,” she echoed. “And yet, Germ, it’s the greatest feeling ever.”
“Bea, if I was magic and could wipe your memory of Casey - if everything was back to how it was before - would you want me to do that?”
Bea closed her eyes and wiped the tears from them, but they were just replaced with more.
“No. He was so nice. I… no. It’s part of me. I wouldn’t want to lose that.”
“What you felt, Bea… that was real. The universe will break everything, but that doesn’t mean what was there before wasn’t real.”
“It was…oh Germ. I want it back so bad. It was magic.”
“So I’ve heard. Bea, this is going to take a long time to get over. But you will get over it. Try to remember that, for those times when you’re alone in bed, staring at the ceiling and beating yourself up over it. You will get over it, Bea. At least mostly. It’s a kind of death, and you’ll go through the mourning of this death. You’ll want to die with it. But don’t succumb to that. You will get over it. After enough time. For now… all you can do is take the pain.”
“It’s going to take a long time, Germ. How is it possible to get this wrapped up in so little time?”
“That damn four-letter word Bea. It’s a kind of magic.”
“Black magic.”
“Sometimes. But not always, Bea. Sometimes, it actually works out.”
She nodded, and gritted her teeth, and Germ helped her to her feet. She picked up the little bag, the glass pipe, the aluminum foil. She was about to throw them in the garbage when the door opened.
She began to tremble at the person who walked into the Ol’ Pickaxe. She turned around so he couldn’t see her face. Germ left and she heard the warehouse door shut behind him, but she heard the words he’d whispered just before he left her side.
“It’s okay to still love him, Bea. There is no shame in that.”
“Good morning Bea! Why is the store closed? Something wrong?”
NOTES:
> This was a really tough chapter to write. Let no one think an author doesn't feel for the characters. But the story is the master. And you know where this has got to end. In general, I don't write sad stories. 90% of my stories end happily. But sometimes, they just can't. However, there will be a Part 2. Don't expect resurrections, but that doesn't mean there is no hope in the world either.
>
> Sorry if I pontificate in a place where it's inappropriate, but I once wrote a story with an OC that I really loved. I'm sure some people write with a tight framework and know every nuance of the story before they write the first word. I don't. This story got to a crucial point and I suddenly realized what the perfect resolution was. But my OC had to die. I researched the situation, but with every word it became more and more clear she was going to die. I thought of Deus Ex-Machina methods of saving her so I could use her in other stories, but I knew that it would hurt the story. So she died. And I felt like I died a little with her.
>
> And then there was the story that I started, but couldn't write. I'm a big fan of Prequel by Kazerad, and lots of my stories revolve around that. I was going to write Katia's backstory, but as I got started, it became more and more clear how tragic it would have to be. I gave up. I couldn't write it.
>
> This isn't that bad, but it still hurts too. So don't feel alone. Still, a good story should touch you, and - at least for me - this one definitely does.