39. Anniversary
The moment the door slammed shut, Isaac stomped past the ruined bubble straws strewn across the floor and opened the tablet screen. A few of the straws had rolled under the furniture, and he knew it’d be a pain to pick them up later.
Isaac easily navigated to the singular “call” button and hit it. The screen glowed gold, and Lilith’s voice soon emanated from the device.
“Goodness, is that Isaac calling me? Has the Inferno turned upside down? Is the Solonell City sky blue? Wh—“
“Is the tournament real or is Fable fucking with me,” Isaac interrupted. To her credit, Lilith continued speaking without pause, completely unperturbed about being cut off.
“Oh, they already told you?”
Damn, so it was true after all. Isaac frowned, eyes drifting over to the twisted plastic straws scattered around the apartment. He took a deep breath and attempted to keep his voice as calm as possible. Weird idea or not, it wasn’t Lilith’s fault that Fable was an asshole. “And what, exactly, brought this on?”
“Well you see, Isaac dear, that gym they opened in Solonell City’s been getting quite popular. I hear it’s quite full these days, so I thought we should help everyone vent a little before the place runs out of capacity! Actually I’ve been planning this for some time now.”
“…Is that why Fable hasn’t been around?”
He heard the sound of Lilith snapping her fingers. “So smart of you! Yes, I asked them to handle the preparations. They called in a few favors, and now we’ve got a venue and everything! Isn’t it wonderful?”
Isaac frowned and nearly stepped on one of the bubble straws as he began pacing on instinct. Sighing, he bent down to begin the painstaking process of picking them all up. No point in putting it off. “And I’m supposed to what, just sit there and let the tablet update stats?”
“Naturally! But you can enjoy the tournament—“
“It sounds more like a sports festival than a tournament to be honest.”
“—too, you know! Relax a little, have fun, appreciate life!”
“Not sure what’s so relaxing about watching a bunch of repressed creatures race each other, but okay.” He stood and set the pile of straws he’d gathered onto the table. After making sure they didn’t roll off, he crouched down again to pick up more.
“Well, it should be quite interesting, at least. Think of it like the instinct stat tests!”
That had been fun. Issac hummed in thought. “And you’ve already got the stuff planned? Like there’s no safety hazards or missing details?”
“You mustn't underestimate me, Isaac dear. Of course I have it all prepared! Don’t you worry your little head about it.”
“You know, if you’re so worried about me getting stressed, you could give me a few vacation days. Just a thought.”
“Well, it’s been wonderful talking to you, do call me more often, but I’m afraid I have other matters to attend to. A god never sleeps, as they say. Tata!”
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
Isaac glanced up just in time to see the tablet screen fade back to black. He snorted and shook his head, setting the last pile of destroyed bubble straws down. There were even more of them than he’d thought when they were gathered together like this. What a waste. He sighed again and turned to grab a bag to scoop them into. Once he was done, he exited his apartment door, bag of straws in hand, and made his way down to the recycling bins.
—
“How have you been?”
Isaac blinked and turned around. He’d just dumped the crushed straws into the large blue bin the apartment claimed was for recycling. He had some doubts about whether the stuff inside was actually recycled or not, but using it at least felt better than dumping everything into the trash.
The person who’d spoken was an elderly woman he recognized as a fellow resident of the fourth floor. She was a widow, and apparently her son lived on the other side of the country, though Isaac had never actually seen the man in question. He passed by the woman sometimes in the hallway, and she always had a severe look on her face that was distinctly unwelcoming. Still, despite her sternness, Isaac would say she was probably his favorite neighbor, insofar as he could say he had one. There was a certain dignity to the way she carried herself that he admired.
That being said, Isaac had never had a proper conversation with the woman, who seemed about as interested in social interaction as he was. He frowned, not quite sure what to say.
“Uh, I’ve been fine.” He slowly set the recycling bin lid down. It slammed shut, making a louder sound than he would’ve liked, and he winced slightly.
The woman’s eyes were sharp and piercing as she studied him. He felt a bit unnerved, but stood his ground. Finally, she just hummed. “I see. Take care of yourself, young man.”
Isaac blinked a few times. “I will. Uh, thank you, ma’am.”
The woman nodded approvingly. Without another word, she turned away, walking in slow, steady steps. Isaac stared after her as she turned the corner and disappeared from view. Weird. This whole day was weird. Isaac shook his head and hurriedly made his way back up the stairs, feeling increasingly antsy the longer he spent outside.
His apartment was exactly as he’d left it, and notably more empty without the bubble straws littered around the place. They had, ironically enough, added a pop of color to the otherwise dull and grey room.
Isaac stepped over to the refrigerator to take out the cake he’d left inside, sincerely hoping that Fable hadn’t fucked with the buttercream or something like that. He wouldn’t put it past the Traveler. Isaac was half wondering if he should remake the cake just in case, but he didn’t have time for it considering he had other orders to get to and now apparently this Underside “tournament” was coming up.
As Isaac grabbed the metal handle, his eyes passed briefly over the paper calendar hanging crooked on the metal surface. It was as simple as a calendar could be, with no added illustrations or colors to break up its plain black and white grid of dates. The only real splotch of color present came from a single ‘X’ drawn in red marker over a familiar anniversary that was a few weeks away. Below the ‘X,’ a few words were scribbled in black ink, so small and messy that they were largely illegible.
Isaac stared, unmoving, at the calendar. Suddenly the nervous feeling that had been present all morning, the odd tension in the air, Lilith’s exaggerated suggestions for him to relax, and his neighbor’s behavior all clicked into place.
He looked down and saw that his knuckles were white. He distantly realized that he was gripping the handle too hard, and Isaac quickly unclenched his fingers and dropped his hand back down to his side.
It was odd how four years could pass both so quickly and yet so slowly. Isaac had grown so used to his current life, his trips between Chrowall and the Underside, decorating cakes in an empty apartment, that it was difficult to remember what it had been like beforehand. But at the same time, certain memories stayed as fresh and vivid as if they had occurred a mere day ago.
Isaac shook his head and forced himself to push the thoughts aside. He still had work to do, and it wasn’t like there was anything to be gained from ruminating on the past for so long. Nothing could be done now.
Isaac pulled the bottom cake tier out of the fridge, and it mercifully looked the same as he’d left it. He picked up his piping bag and didn’t think about the small headstone lying at the back of the Chrowall City cemetery or about the person who had once lived in this very apartment.
As he continued decorating, working through the cake’s design with practiced, mechanical motions, the calendar lingered in the corner of his eye, a constant presence in his periphery. Try as he did to ignore it, to not let his eyes wander back to the red ‘X,’ Isaac couldn’t shake the feeling that it looked like an accusation.