The park was chilled in the air like refrigerator. What I mean by that is that if you stuck your arms out into it there wouldn't be any cold pains or numbing, just a sort of gentle air, but if you let the air fall out and onto your chest you'd really feel it then. That's definitely what today was like. There were the plants starting to grow and the trees not even close to starting with their budding again. So I get down to the bridge over the river, the old Young Bridge, yeah. Crossing right over the Nomina River, newly named after it came about. It's new, you know. See, after all the melting in the nearby mountains that hold our forest it created a permanent river, like, finally named and tamed a few years before Regent or I were born. And there were still ice flows in the river, going under the bridge in a way that was real pretty and probably poetic, like.
I suppose I should go check on my mail and find out if I’ve gotten something back from the job that I’ve applied for, but eh, that can wait a bit. It’s not like knowing right now is going to make a difference in whether or not I get in or can really do anything anyway. Like, even so, I’m not going to be able to do anything about it or get back with ‘em until tomorrow anyway even if they have replied and stuff, after sleeping over my options and all that.
But like I was saying, all of that checking on all of that can wait till I’m done with eating up on yesterday’s winnings. So I sit down, just off one of those paths that cuts across the park. So the ground’s pretty cold, really, but it’s all fine because I just open up the blanket with all those pistachios in the middle and sit down on it. And so I just start cracking ‘em open with my nails and popping ‘em into my maw and throwing the shells out and into the river, you know, old Nomina. It feels good to be doing that river a bit of a favor, you know, people are always up and on about recycling and stuff and like those shells will just get all up and in the environment and add some fuel back into the system, I’d think after a while. And even if I’m really wrong it’ll get the river back to the good ol’ times of making little kids immune and everything, just like it did to Regent and I.
So once I’m done shelling ‘em all and I’ve got my pack all packed up again with the blanket all brushed off of mud and scraps and folded back up, I head over to the post to check up on it all. So I got up and walked again over ol’ Nomina, but this time taking the new bridge, that one with benches on the edges right next to the grated sides where other ados put locks for their wishes and threw the keys to help out polluting the river for the strength of future ados. And all that cal. At one of the tables, like there were so many days, you see, were a few old men sitting about a chess board. Sometimes when you walked by you could see that they were playing a really good game with all the pieces pinning each other in this delicate balance, super fragile like you’d think of that vase or dish, you know the one, that you’re scared of touching cause you know it’ll break if you just set it down slightly wrong. But today they were playing one of those real dull ones where black’s really beating up on white, taking the middle and just pressing the trades and it’s like no fun to watch cause there’s no suspense. There’s no excitement! That’s why I always wanted to leave this little place, cause there’s no excitement! You turn on the programs, like Ursula does every night and you hear that fifty people were killed in an explosion and there’s some new war or supervirus and you go ‘where? Where? Where’s it all at’ and they’re like ‘on the other side of the world’ and you go ‘well shit! That’s too far away to be interesting’ and then you turn it off and think, like. See, not that I want to be involved in any of that, but I’d just want there to be something changing everything up every so often around here, but there never is besides the occasional accident at a plant or a funeral or a store closing from our stale economy and then some jack buys up the place and renovates it and ends up losing all his money too.
And once I finally get all the way to the far side of it all, real close to the plant where Regent works, even though he lives all the way on the other far side of town, I see the post, yeah. I think it was one of the oldest building, see, after this fire a long time back that burnt down everything, the post was one of those buildings that like n’n wanted to see gutted and built over, so they just restored it as best they could and went on fixing the rest of the town all new and, well, they said pretty. So once I’m inside, I can see all the old brick walls on the one side with the burn marks on ‘em and that line of new bricks that marks where the old building ends and the new sort of building begins. There’s this lucky ado at the counter who got a spot here who I don’t need, but he insists on escorting me to my private box and looking over my shoulder the whole time I’m trying to get the letters out of the damn little thing. And so once I finally do get him out of my hair and busy handling another person, who insists on sending four fucking jars of jam to some man studying at some prestigious university somewhere out there, I get myself out of there and down the street. I think ‘there’s the place’ as I see the shuttle. See, the shuttle’s the only metro thing we’ve got around here and it’s a miracle we have it anyway. We’re all like too poor to really keep it in good shape or have it connect everything, but it gets you from one side of town to the other really great. Three stops, two trains: the post district, the park, and the lot. So I’m at the post district and the park stop is on the side of the river that I don’t live on, so it’s really inconvenient for me to use the shuttle, but for making it across for Regent must be really helpful. The lot, way out on the far end of town is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. There was this time after the fire when everything was being rebuilt and people were actually moving here that everyone thought the town was finally going to grow up and be a place people would want to live, so they made all these plans to keep building out… East, I think. Yeah. The lot’s on the east side, and the post is on the west, along with Ursula’s place. Anyway, the stop’s literally in the middle of this overgrown field. See, it’s just a couple square miles of nothingness that you can still get off at and look out at. Cause there’s some ado with nothing better to do, the lawn right outside the station’s always mowed and clear, but if you go more than twenty feet out you’re going to walk right into the brush. And there’s all of the utilities already laid out, all the pipes and telephone wires, so if you were to actually walk through the fields, you’d find all these things out there.
So I go down into the tunnels, yeah. It’s really dark because half of the lights don’t work anymore and the levy to get someone in here and get the system’s all working again didn’t pass cause n’n could afford it. And they’re those tube lights too, so the half that do work hurt your eyes when you look at ‘em. There’s all sorts of writing and scribbles on the walls too, but some of it looks pretty cool, see. Like, there’s the stupid stuff that people write that’s just their names in big and ugly lettering, but sometimes you see a real work of art, yeah. For example, there’s this one that’s of this hyena that looks like it’s sort of just hanging in the air with its legs stretched like it was making a big jump or something and it’s got its mouth open but it looks like it’s having a great time of it, real happy.
So when I hop on the shuttle, I start opening up the mail that I’ve got, which is mostly just crap from people who want my vote or their money. Jokes on them, see, I don’t vote ever. They like to say that you have to vote and if you don’t vote, you can’t complain about the outcome because you didn’t take a stance, but think about this here, would you? If you vote for some guy and he happens to win and he doesn’t do good things, then you can’t complain at all because it’s your fault that he got elected and did whatever bad things he did, so I feel like I can complain more if I just say out of it. Or, at least, it lets me laugh at all of it real good. But there is a set of two nice white envelopes from the places that I had applied to, and so I open ‘em up. And the one’s a big disappointment, but the place that serves noodles and rice and stuff, just named after the owner, Mrs. Mao’s, sent me back some good news. It was all handwritten too, really nice and pretty and in cursive with a signature in foreign characters, probably from Mrs. Mao herself, yeah. At least, I wanted to think that. But yeah, whoever wrote it from Mrs. Mao’s place wanted me to come in sometime and talk with ‘em about what I might be doing and see whether or not it’s something I’d want to really do and of course if I’m ready for it.
So the shuttle stops at the park, sort of making this really high-pitched grindy sound as it does, and I hop off, really eager to go and see if I can get formally hired by Mrs. Mao. So I stuff the mail, except for the one special letter, into my pack as I run up and out of the shuttle right out to the west edge of the park. So I ran right on and off towards Mrs. Mao's but of course it wasn't gonna what I was thinking because not two blocks from the park, I saw a man I couldn't refuse the company of, see.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Cyrcil was, eh, let's say my best friend, yeah? Regent's great, really, but no one could really do me the same pleasure that Cycril's given me with his presence. Funny enough, his name should have been 'cyril' but his parents fucked up real bad and so now he's Cyrcil, but I just call him Cc and he likes that. He's got this face that reminds me of a raccoon every time I see it, truly, and he even looks the part. See, he's wearing this black and white striped hoodie, with the stripes being over an inch thick, easily, and over that he's wearing a plain white short sleeve shirt and a black backpack on the back of it all, with his adorable raccoon plushie affectionately strapped to the back of that. Cc's always reminded everyone of raccoons it seems, so for his birthday one year when we were really young I got him that plushie and he's been keeping it on him ever since, really sweet him, the devil. Oh yeah, and like he's also got some dark jeans on his legs, but who cares about that. What else? He's got big blue eyes, just like mine, doesn't have any tatty on him and this black hair that just looks so casual, but he keeps it well. So yeah, Cyrcil is just the most fucking brilliant man I've ever met. He was born in this shitty town and managed to get into computers enough to get hired way young and way out there, in some tiny country that I couldn't tell you the capital of. Starts with an 'L' I think and has, oh fuck it, I don't know where and you know I don't so let's just say 'over there' and be on with it, yeah? But yeah, he got out, moved over there and everything, lives cheap there and saves all his money and time to go visit all his ados around the world and never skips a season to come back home and see some people. We keep in touch all the time, usually when I'm at the library on a computer doing some quick stuff on a public computer, we get in a quick call or something. See, there's no one ever at the library, so none of the librarians care at all if there's some ado just making some noise.
So he was just walking right along the side of the road, just like all of us ados like to do, right over the edge of the curb because we're not worth the sidewalk, and neither are the taxes, you see, but not far out enough to get clipped by a car. And of course, he's turned the wrong way to be able to see me, so I really loudly call over to him, “Oy! Cc!”
And how could you not turn to look back at someone screaming 'oy' and then your name? Huh? It's natural, and so he did and seemed to recognize the voice and spun around. And then he did something pretty stupid in just bolting across the street, not even looking for cars or anything, just to get over to my side. As soon as he was over he gave me this big hug that nearly knocked me over, the devil, and exclaimed, “Zyolfey!” He reached over and grabbed my arm, right between the shoulder and elbow and looked at it, “And you got that second stripe tatty. Much better than just the one, yeah?”
“Definitely, man, how's it been?”
“And the ears too, really got them out to size now. Don't you go too much larger with them, eh? Don't wanna fit a dime through there, see, that's when it just gets disgusting.”
“Yeah wasn't gonna.”
“Anyway, I've been doing really great, yourself?”
“Good, just got some good news, but why didn't you tell me that you were coming back?”
“There was supposed to be this big tech meeting in Toronto, and I was to be our company's representative there. It was new and I was going to be accompanied by some of our biggest RnD stars from our overseas departments. But then there was this big storm and the airport got shut down and I was already in Vienna on another meeting over a sales deal turned sour, so there was no chance to get there on time any other way, so I called up my boss if I could change out the Toronto tickets for a quick trip for a day or two back here and he said that he didn't see any harm in it and gave me a quick break, unpaid of course, but I don't care really.”
“That's great!”
“Do you wanna go get some tea or do anything?”
“Certainly!”
“Let's head over to my place for that, shall we? Maybe play some games while we're there, yeah?”
And of course, I'd agree to all this as we cut through all the busy crap that we, well, he'd been dealing with and everything that's new, I guess. But his old place was actually really close to Ursula's. He still kept the deed and cause he was back at least once a season, didn't have anyone take care of it while he was out, so everything was pretty dusty when we got there. After setting some water for tea, he led me up to the roof. See, it was on the top floor of this building all by itself. It wasn't as special as that sounds though, because just a few feet over was another building exactly like it and so on for about a block or so, but he got the top floor privilege of the roof too. And, and he got the added bonus of being at the west end of the block, so he got all the great views of the sunsets, well, at least the best of anyone in this town. So there's all the factories on the west side with their smokestacks, so it's either hazy with the smoke or the towers are in the way or there's something else, always something else, that gets the sunset just wrong for a good picture. But regardless, Cyrcil leaned himself right up on the railing facing out that way, resting himself a bit on his elbows and forearms. And he looks back at me with that smiling face of his that still reminds me of raccoons with the factories in the distance, all surrounded by the depressingly gray clouds, and brings a smile to my face anyway. He's just the person who can always brighten up my day, no matter what the weather or bad news, Cc's always there to say these beautifully brilliant kind words and keep me going.
“Got anyone yet?”
“No.” Cyrcil laughed, “I'm not that lucky.”
“You're brilliant, though. You'd think that som'n would want to be into that?”
“N'n. They want a man who'll sit still for a day or two, turns out.” He laughed again, “Oh, they don't like that about me. See, the ones who wanna be with me just don't wanna tail me forever to stay with me.”
“Sounds like the don't truly like you then.”
“You've gotta draw the line somewhere. And they seem to like it there, where it is.” He turned his back to the factories and leaned against the railing with his body now, facing me with his hands in his pockets. Not putting them there all proper like someone with his influence might, but instead like a true ado with only his thumbs on the inside and the eight of 'em others on the outside, gently tapping away. “It's alright. I'm certainly not out of luck. See, there's this lovely man in our department, who's totally like me. We compare code all the time, he's practically right across the way and we've been going out for drinks a lot. I mean, it's nothing official or anything, just... it's really fun to be with him and I think he likes me too.”
“Man! That's great!”
“Thanks. Thanks a ton Zyolfe.”
“So, Cc, I got to ask, what's he like?”
“Well, his name's Anatoli and I think I already said that he's pretty hot. He's got a bit of a problem with the drinking, but thankfully it's not mead that he's into. So, he does a lot of meetings and traveling like I do when we're not finishing code and trying to integrate the fucking hardware. Cause I always say, I'll do the software, and if you give me a good snack, I'll do the firmware, but I'ain' never touching the hardware. So guess what they're having me do now...”
“I see.”
“So how are you doing in the hunt?”
“Oh, absolutely nowhere. I've told you about my tenancy with Ursula, but she's definitely not my type.”
“Why's that?”
“I'm not into the pan flute, to be honest, and she's a bit... odd. It's hard to describe but she just feels like the type of person who'd drag me down to her level of being one with nature and stuff, and I really don't think that's the life for me.”
“Sounds like something you'd say.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. You're the one who, well. Eh, never mind.”
“No, I wanna know.”
“It's nothing, just something really strange I thought I noticed. But I'm just being crazy.”
“Okay then.”
“Let's go get tea, huh? It's certainly ready.”
“Okay, sure.”
And so right then I wasn't feeling too good because Cc was starting to make me nervous, but as soon as I took a sip of some of his classic green tea, those troubles melted away. In fact, the entire night sort of melted away into a bit of cards and more tea. I was really wanting to spend the night there with him, but there was always something in me that said not to spend the night around Cyrcil because of his orientation and how I just didn't want things to get super weird between us. And I also knew that Ursula would be waiting for me to get back to be able to lock up and go to bed. She'd probably be a bit disappointed too. I didn't make her dinner, which I usually manage for her.
So when I did finally get back, I just sort of slummed the night out till I could get out of there next morning after all the daily stuff. So, it was just a few hours after sunrise that I made it finally to Mrs. Mao's place, and without really any distractions or interruptions too.