Aaron stood up from the dinette table, lifting the old teddy bear from his lap and holding him out in front of him. Baby Bear kicked his feet happily and laughed as he hung in the air. Aaron marveled at the bear for a moment.
If Tia’s theory was right, Aaron had accomplished something most children dream of — bringing their favorite toy to life — without even meaning to. There were implications and consequences a child wouldn’t understand, but Aaron felt much the same way a child would at that moment; he didn’t really care about all that. Baby Bear, his bear, had come to life.
“I know you have stuff to do,” Baby Bear said, “but we should start the day off right with snuggles.”
Maybe it was juvenile, but Aaron decided the idea had merit. He was awake and aware early — it was barely past seven o’clock — and he felt both rested and refreshed. It was the first time he hadn’t been completely out of it for at least half an hour after waking up that he could remember.
There were other massive improvements he was discovering in this strange new life, too. Having access to an absurd amount of money and no set schedule were both pretty sweet perks. There would probably be trade-offs later — assassins and bug boxes being no exception — but luxuriating like a trust fund kid would be glorious, at least for a little while.
“How about this, Bear — we can hang out on the couch and watch some videos while I have something to eat, then snuggle for a little bit. Sound like a plan?”
Although Baby Bear wanted to haggle over what would qualify as ‘a little bit’ of snuggling, he eventually acquiesced. Aaron reheated some of the leftovers in the microwave — which was a harrowing experience on its own; would the brand new, high-end, ultra lux microwave work well with the times he’d figured out on his own cheap box back home? — then took the plates into the living room.
After an hour of distracting himself with videos — all while Baby Bear lay flopped atop his head — Aaron took out his new phone and sent a message to the security detail, which turned into a group chat.
Aaron: < Hey, hoping to go shopping today, need clothes and maybe stuff for apartment >
Albert: < i no a guy, can get viet shame wheel >
Kiara: < My apologies for Albert. >
Kiara: < Not excusing him. There is no excuse for him. >
Kiara: < When did you want to go? >
Aaron: < 30-60 minutes? If you’re all free. >
Aaron: < And if anyone can give me an idea of what kind of budget I have… >
Griffin: < Your phone can do smartpay and bank cards also arrived last night. We can set up with you >
Kiara: < We can be ready to roll in 5. Text when ready. >
Aaron: < Will be closer to 60 minutes, need to shower and dress. >
Albert: < {thumbs up} >
Aaron shook his head. Telling my ‘staff’ I want to go shopping might be the most hoity-toity shit I’ve ever done. Having money is nice, but that just feels weird.
After a nice, long shower, Aaron threw on the last of his clean clothes and sat down on the bed with Baby Bear. He needed to make sure his bases were covered and that the bear would be kept secret and safe. The rules he laid out were simple — don’t leave the apartment, don’t open the curtains on the windows, and don’t answer the door. The last one was the most important: if anyone but Aaron or Tia were in the apartment, Baby Bear had to hide in a drawer or cabinet in the master suite and pretend he was a regular stuffed animal.
Baby Bear took it all in stride and in good humor; he was excited to be able to run around and watch any TV or videos he wanted, not to mention all the leftovers in the fridge he could try. There was no way to guarantee the living plushy would take any of it seriously, but the best Aaron could do right now was to be honest with his bear and hope for the best.
A few minutes after that conversation, Baby Bear was hunkered down in the bedroom closet with Aaron’s cheap tablet and Aaron himself was opening the front door to let Albert, Griffin, and Kiara in. There were two mostly-closed doors between them and Baby Bear, but on the off chance his security had enhanced sensory powers, he’d left a playlist running on the television in the bedroom to cover any sounds Bear might make as he munched on leftovers and surfed the internet for the first time ever.
His security detail reminded Aaron that his body had changed drastically in his sleep — which he’d somehow forgotten in the hour he’d spent with Baby Bear since Tia left for class. Each of them sized him up in a way he wasn’t really used to and he experienced a strange mix of embarrassment and pride in his new physique. Albert ruined the moment by swearing and handing each of his two compatriots a small stack of money.
“What’s that about?” Aaron asked, letting them into the apartment.
“I bet them you’d gain at least six inches,” Albert replied sullenly.
“That seems pretty extreme,” Aaron said.
Albert shrugged and Griffin chuckled.
“Albert has this theory about the Emergence. Most folks think the changes reflect a person’s aptitudes, assuming they aren’t random,” Kiara said. “Albert thinks it’s influenced more by a person’s self-image.”
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“He reached that conclusion because he actually got shorter,” Griffin said, grinning.
“I didn’t get shorter,” Albert complained. “I made an exchange that was three-to-one in my favor.”
“A three-to-one exchange?” Aaron asked before Kiara could stop him.
Albert’s frown turned to a smirk that went beyond mischievous and bordered on malevolent. “One inch in height for two in length and one in girth.”
Kiara smacked Albert on the back of the head hard enough to be heard over Griffin’s laughter. Both men continued to snicker while she gave Aaron some bank cards and shot them dirty looks while he set up his access credentials. There were debit cards from three different major banks and half a dozen credit cards so it took a few minutes.
According to the various apps that gave him access to his new accounts — including a custom app Kiara showed him that incorporated magic and let him access all of them at once — he had access to more money at the moment than he would have made in his entire life. It was almost overwhelming to suddenly see those large numbers, but Aaron reined his excitement in quick enough.
Once the shock of suddenly being absurdly rich passed, the feeling that lingered was a sense of relief. Even if he never made another cent, he’d never have to worry about bills — or much of anything — ever again. It wasn’t just money; it was yacht money. Aaron didn’t even bother trying to add up all the individual balances, just ballparking the numbers in front of the first comma.
Griffin drew his attention back to the present. “So what kind of clothes do you want to go shopping for?”
“With this kind of money, I feel like I should get a coat made of Dalmatians. You know, something equal parts cruel and ostentatious.”
That got a laugh around the table, even from Kiara.
“Well, comrade,” Albert said, “I know what my account looks like, so I can only imagine how ridiculous yours might be. The question is — is that going to be what defines you?”
That was an intriguing question and warranted consideration.
Stories abound of how money changed people, but was it something that had to happen or something that people allowed to happen? Was money the root of all evil, as they said, or did it simply enable the uglier side of human nature? There had to be research on the subject, but Aaron couldn’t remember a lick of it after so many years out of school.
It’s almost certain wealth influences perception if not personality, but does it have to? Aaron wondered.
Maybe the best answer to Albert’s question was that it would if Aaron let it. This kind of money would influence anyone, especially if they’d never had much of it; that was inevitable. It didn’t mean Aaron had to accept it. That meant he had to be himself, but better. It meant being honest about who he was rather than putting on airs to fit some concept of who he thought he was supposed to be just because he had access to money, now.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Aaron said. “Anyways, I’m not exactly fashion savvy, but I’ve heard a few things over the years that probably encapsulate my sense of style fairly well.”
When he paused for a moment, Kiara asked, “Well? Like what?”
“I’ve been told a, uh, a few times that I dress like either a telenovela adaptation of The Sopranos or a Bostonian,” Aaron said, avoiding eye contact with the others.
Griffin barked out a laugh. “Los Sopranos. Ha!”
After a fair bit of discussion — which involved narrowing down what the hell Aaron even meant — they reached a consensus. It was agreed that Aaron preferred comfortable pants, whether track pants or slacks, and loose, button-down, short-sleeved shirts, like bowling shirts, Havanas, and guayaberas.
Although Aaron said he generally found suits uncomfortable, Albert told him they’d go to a tailor he knew to try some stuff that wasn’t off the rack. Most of what Aaron was looking for otherwise could be found at a department store.
“Might have to shop around a bit if you want designer brands,” Kiara said.
Aaron scoffed. “I don’t really pay attention to the label; I’m more about comfort and affordability.”
“Yeah, but you never had money,” Albert said. “Designer brands are often much better quality, so you get a better fit that lasts longer. You can figure out what you like with time.”
“It’ll take an hour to get through Midtown this time of day, but I know a great scenic route. We’ll go across 97th, then down 5th avenue,” Griffin said.
Albert rolled his eyes. “With all that stop-and-go? We’d be sitting ducks.”
“We could take the Byways; there’s an access point at 100th and Columbus,” Griffin offered. “It’ll get us across town in fifteen minutes at most, but nothing opens down there until ten.”
“We can grab breakfast,” Albert suggested. “Oh, we can take Aaron to that singing diner!”
That suggestion led to a brief argument on a number of topics: whether the diner where they sang show tunes was lame; whether show tunes, themselves, were lame; whether the diner was kitschy or campy; and whether that somehow saved the whole thing from being lame. There was searing acrimony and bitter recriminations over whether irony even existed anymore.
Aaron interrupted the argument. “Didn’t Monica work there on Friends?”
“The Moondance Diner was the place Monica had to sing and dance, but the singing diner is actually the Stardust Diner,” Albert said. “She was also a chef at the Iridium in the first two seasons, which is a jazz-themed place next door to the Stardust. Oh, and another fun fact — you might also know the Moondance Diner because that’s where Jonathon Larson worked. You may have seen it recreated in Tick Tick…Boom! Oh, and it’s also where Mary Jane worked in the first Spider-Man movie.”
“Wow,” Aaron said. “That all sounds corny as hell and I am one hundred percent down to go.”
With the argument settled, they left the apartment and went down to the car.
Aaron hadn’t wanted to ask what the Byways were because he thought he had a pretty good guess from context and he turned out to be right. A few blocks from the apartment, Griffin pulled them into a parking garage sandwiched between a TJ Maxx and an apartment building made of red brick.
Parking garages seem to be the primary gateway to the hidden world, Aaron mused.
They stopped at the swing arm, where Albert focused intently on a small, round rod made of a light pink crystal for a few seconds. After a nod from the small man, Griffin pressed the button and took a ticket. As unusual as that seemed to Aaron, it was far more unusual when they parked in a shadowy corner and the wall in front of them disappeared, revealing a narrow tunnel with a steep downward slope.
“Welcome to the Byways,” Albert said with a smirk back at Aaron as Griffin pulled the car into the dim tunnel.