2

Hyuntae Kim

  Hyuntae spotted Lance sitting in a booth far to the back of a dark and lonely WacDonalds. Boarded-up storefronts crowded the environment like neon predators stalking for meat, while the appetites of things that were not people growled in silent hunger at the verminous streetwalker, and smiled.

  Though their maw-like doors were locked, boarded, or both, they seemed eager for passers-through, to fill their emptiness with transactional excitement.

  Still sat next to Sgt. Ditty, Hyuntae could not remain seated. Yet, held by some terrible spell, he did. That was until the man seated facing them abruptly stood, skin pale and luminous with the bright morning light, and fled.

  in so doing he broke whatever spell had kept them seated. But, just as Hyuntae had taken his first frenzied step toward freedom, a cold hand gripped him by the shirt and Sgt. Ditty called out in a voice too feeble to be his own: “Please.”

  Sgt. Ditty’s hands, they were trembling; and his face had none of its usual sureness.

  The bus driver interrupted their staring at each other when he asked, “Getting off?”

  For reasons Hyuntae was uncertain of, he quickly shook his head no, and the bus lurched forward, jostling him back into his seat.

  Sgt. Ditty paused, and time seemed to pause with him until—after several deep breaths—he spoke with an unsettling calm:

… Phantasos Roses bloomed prolific in a gardened field of flowers. I was investigating her—the gardener, she….

A witch.

Beauty enchanted like… Phantasos’ pollen, cast like gold dust—like, wheat seed across ‘ newly wedded.

I couldn’t…. not—but she….

The pollen didn’t affect me, I later learned. Because I’m magic—al but the people. The people aren’t, often….

Nearby village ‘n…. People of Nidalee, dancing in glitter—golden. Pollen carrie’ on the wind.

  He paused just long enough for Hyuntae to realize his eyes were wet.

‘Woke ‘ a hotel bed, morning to bells. So many, bells. All tolling—not time, but disaster. I knew.

I knew, but I—it didn’t….

Quiet, at night they left. All of them, following the ‘old dust trail. And it… sits in my nose! I can’t blow it out—the dust, I always smell it. I see it; in my dreams, I feel it; children dancing…. Dancing, to their deaths.

  He rose suddenly to his feet and left, leaving Hyuntae to puzzle at his weeping, almost nonsensical monologue as the bus quickly returned to life. It was as if his departure had taken with it all the heaviness Hyuntae had felt.

  Hyuntae got off at the next stop and watched the bus leave.

  Feeling alone and hungry, Hyuntae returned by foot to that WacDonalds window where he saw Lance. “Maybe it was open, and the lights were just off,” he whimsically thought. “Can’t survive off only chocolate, after all.”

* * *

  Hyuntae approached the WacDonalds, full of muddled thoughts.

  Knock-knock-knocking at the window, he could not see inside. “Are the windows tinted?” Peering into the darkness, he briefly considered whether he had just imagined Lance’s being there. “Or maybe he left?”

  Breathing on the window, he wiped away the frost with his sleeve. The morning sun shone over his shoulder into the window, illuminating the building’s interior. Perhaps it was the glare that denied his sight—or maybe they truly were tinted—for still, he could not see inside. He stepped backwards until the entrance was in view and was delighted to find that, unlike other buildings, this one was not boarded. Although he was certain the place was closed, he felt he might as well check the door.

  He had barely touched the doorknob when the door flew open! Easily frightened, Hyuntae stumbled backwards and yelped, only to see that it was Lance who had opened the door.

  With a silent nod, Lance gestured Hyuntae to step inside.

* * *

  It was cold inside, and a thick cushion of dust padded the seats and tables. What no doubt used to be a busy kitchen now kept the company of vermin; their droppings could be seen sprinkled about the linoleum and their footprints dimpled the table-dust.

  It was an eerie place. The abandoned-ness of it was unsettling. For a moment, Hyuntae worried there might be squatters because the door had been unlocked. So he asked somewhat anxiously, “Did you unlock it- the door?”

  It came out more as a chirp than as a question, and it took Lance a moment to discern what Hyuntae was truly asking. Eventually he said “no.

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  “At least, I don’t think I did,” he continued, returning to his booth. “I already wiped this one off if you’re curious.

  “I… I don’t think there’s anyone else here—or if there ‘s ‘ never bothered me,” Lance finished, sitting loudly.

  After an awkward pause and with obvious effort, Hyuntae took the booth-seat facing Lance and folded his hands gently on the table.

* * *

  Hyuntae had been looking out the window when Lance spoke: “Sorry to leave you there, with him. He’s- can be intense. It’s… pretty bad today. Just, being there you feel his presence.

  “I don’t really think he meant it either. That is—you were on Cee Cue Duty, right? Y’ always are. Did he- did you see him come in?”

  Hyuntae shook his head no, then yes. “The windows aren’t tinted anymore.”

  Lance squinted in confusion.

  “Oh, um…” Hyuntae exclaimed. “Sorry! I wasn’t listening.” Hyuntae thrust a handful of Sniggers at Lance. “Want some?”

  Lance cringed. “No thanks; I don’t really like chocolate,” he said pushing Hyuntae’s sweaty hand away. “Besides, ‘ place is full of burgers!”

  Hyuntae’s ears perked at the mention of burgers, but a quizzical look soon followed. “Wouldn’t they be bad?”

  “No, yes—well, probably. But it’s okay,” Lance reassured him, but Hyuntae was not convinced.

  “Be right back.” Lance hopped the counter and cased the kitchen. Disappearing behind a tall metal door, he soon reappeared carrying several frosty boxes of burger ingredients.

  He mumbled something and kicked the table, magically cleaning it, then dumped the boxes into a heaping mess. He mumbled something again and, taking an exaggerated breath, breathed on the pile. Magically, the contents were now fresh, thawed and appetizing. The subtle scents of prepared ingredients began to fill the room.

  Calling Hyuntae over, they made burgers together until the pile was gone. All the while, Hyuntae went on about today’s strange encounters with Sgt. Ditty. He would have stopped, but Lance wasn’t saying anything and Hyuntae hated the silence.

* * *

  “F-following you!?” Hyuntae loudly exclaimed. “Like a s-stalker!?”

  Lance winced. “Yes, no—well, sort uh.” As if looking for someone in the shadows, his eyes darted between them. “I just get that feeling, yeah? Like he’s following me.”

  Hyuntae munched on a burger between words. “Well, what about the creepy monologue? If I hadn’t understood part of what he ‘s saying, I would’ve sworn he was cursing someone!”

  “No, yeah—no offense, but yeah. No way you’re magical enough to understand his spells. He—that was just him being weird. Has a reputation for that, apparently, yeah?”

  “Yeah…” echoed Hyuntae. “Got any soda?”

  “Dunno—let’s find out!” said Lance, hopping the counter and disappearing again.

  “Yeah, there’s soda!” came his yell from another room. “Preference!?”

  “Cola!” yelled Hyuntae.

  Lance returned carrying several boxes of flavor concentrates and additives. “I think it’s probably a variant of the poppy plant—Papaver Somniferum.”

  “Papaver Somniferum?”

  “No a variant of it, ‘Papaver Phantasos.’”

  Hyuntae quirked his head and raised an eyebrow. “What’s a ‘Papaver’?”

  Lance nearly dropped the boxes in shock. “They didn’t teach you in A-I-Tee[1]?” he exclaimed.

  Hyuntae’s gave a confused look, but didn’t answer.

  “Right, different Em-O-Ess, different A-I-Tee. Well, yeah—so, they’re like—you know opium?—it’s like that but doesn’t need to be processed. Just, the raw pollen does it. Gets you high and magically takes hold of you, makes you want to find where it grows. Except, the pollen remembers where it came from, so addicts—when they go to sleep. They’ll wander there—sleepwalking. And then they just kinda… sniff the snuff- stuff ‘till they die. Feeds the flowers, yeah? Nasty stuff. But, it’s magical, so the one-in-a-million unlucky magus—when he sniffs it—he becomes a plant-like person and just live there. Like an Ent. Plants feed them and they—for some reason, they spread the pollen and protect the plants. Even go so far as to kill people.

  “Ditty probably just got charmed by one such magus to think they were just normal plants—or something.

  “I think those magus do it on purpose though, yeah? Makes you immortal, like an Ent. Lots ‘ are into that. Immortality.”

  Hyuntae sipped loudly at a cup of Cola, careful not to spill any on his person. He was grateful for the cup and food, but he wished Lance had found some straws, too.

  “So what’re you in for?” asked Lance.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you know—the army. Why’d you join up?” Lance clarified.

  “Oh, I…” Hyuntae reluctantly began. “There are—there were a lot of buildings that needed building here. It’s hard to get a job in architecture, so when I was offered this one I thought, ‘Lucky me!’” A wry smile stretched across his face. “They trained me up and shipped me out.

  “A-I-Tee was ih-interesting, at least. ‘ Covered a lot uh design choices for hasty constructions.” He laughed: “You know I thought I’d be designing buildings here? All I’ve done—all they’ve had me do is watch as they disregarded drawings to save a dollar, ‘ maybe some time—”

  —“I heard a rumor about the Sergeant,” Lance cut in, interrupting Hyuntae’s rant.

  Hyuntae stared blankly, surprised that Lance had interrupted him. Lance had always been the silent type. Thinking about it, he was belatedly surprised that Lance was talking this much at all. “A rumor? He’s your Squad Leader, right? Shouldn’t you go to the next one up—er… who was he again?”

  The question lingered in the air, like a noxious bubble.

  “No. I mean yeah, I should, but no. It’s just a rumor. Besides, have you met the man? ‘ Scary as shit!” Lance said, looking nervous.

  “It’s ‘ he wasn’t always like this; I’m sure of it. I think his magic is… leaking out. Right? Like, he can’t contain it anymore—it’s silly I know. I mean, wild magic—sure, ‘ definitely exists. But leaky magic? What? He’s not a pipe; it shouldn’t leak, really. I mean, I’m not a scholar by any means. I don’t study the stuff, but I’ve never heard of it. If it were a thing, I would’ve heard ‘ it right!?”

  Hyuntae wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t particularly good at reading people, but it was obvious that Lance was scared.

  Deep purple bags hung from Lance’s eyes, and his whole body jittered as if the only things keeping him awake were fear and caffeine. The man was such a wreck that, despite being a stranger, Hyuntae felt pity for him. He reminded of any nameless, homeless vagrant from the dusty streets of his homeland. Words tinged with worry, he asked: “Are you okay? When’s the last time you slept?”

  Lance had no answer but to lower his face to the table and sigh.

  Anxiety clogged Hyuntae’s thoughts, and he found himself fidgeting. His fingers rapped rhythmically against the table, and he sipped loudly at his drink, tipping it to his lips even though it was empty. The silence pressed him to speak, but he did not know how to respond. He was uncomfortable, far too deep into the social depths, and the silence pressed heavily.

  He was relieved when Lance finally broke his silence, but was immediately discomforted by his words:

  “I think he’s evil.”

[1] AIT (ay-ai-tee): Acronym for “Advanced Individual Training”