Rachel hadn't slept well since the discovery of Brighton's storage unit, and frankly, who could blame her.
Now, she just laid awake for hours on end, maybe sleeping for an hour or so at a time, and then when it was finally morning, she just lay in bed, staring at the wall, incapable of gathering to energy necessary to get up and go to work. She felt Sun Rai sit on the bed, and then felt a hot mug pressed gently against her pajama covered back. Rachel rolled over and took the coffee cup, sitting up a bit so she could properly drink it. Sun unfolded the newspaper and started reading, as Rachel tried to get her mind off the sights she'd seen in the unit. "Any plans today?" Sun asked. "Work," Rachel replied flatly. "I have to take my dad to the doctors again," Sun replied, turning a page on the paper, "what do you want to do for dinner?" "I don't know," Rachel said, barely speaking audibly, her whole mouth in the cup, letting it warm her face. Silence filled the room once more. Rachel started to feel bad, she felt like Sun Rai probably assumed she was angry with her or something, but god, she couldn't tell her what she and the others had found. She didn't want to involve her in their situation, just like Wyatt didn't want Scarlett involved. It was necessity to have a private and a personal life, and to make sure they stayed separate at ALL costs. "Fuck," Sun Rai said quietly, "are you kidding me?" "What?" Rachel asked. Sun pushed the paper into Rachel's lap, and Rachel couldn't believe her eyes. There, right in the newspaper, was an enormous image of Oliver Brighton, paid for by The Evergreens, which stated, "They killed the world, so he killed his family: a real man puts the world before himself". Rachel felt sick. She quickly got out of bed and went into the bathroom, leaning against the bathroom counter, looking at her coffee mug. She looked from the mug up to herself in the mirror, and hated the face she saw staring back at herself. How much longer could she do this for? And then she vomited. *** Calvin was standing in a department store, looking at small pieces of piping and comparing prices when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, and, certain it was Leonard who had somehow discovered what he'd found, he turned around in fear...only to find it was Wyatt. "Oh, god, you scared me," Calvin said. "Calm down, buddy," Wyatt said, "what're you doing here?" "Uh, a pipe in my parents bathroom burst, so," Calvin said, "what about you? Isn't this a rival operation?" "I like to go through places sometimes, see how others stock things and take note," Wyatt said, jamming his hands in his pockets and nodding, "walk with me for a little bit. How you doing?" "I think the question is how are you doing? Because you ran off like someone had set your house on fire," Calvin said, "are you feeling okay? Celia talked to me a little bit after you left and told me how distraught you seemed. You know we're all pretty distraught, but you seemed to have a particularly nasty reaction." Wyatt chewed his lip, nodding. "Yeah," he finally responded, "yeah I kinda...lost my cool. I went and pulled my daughter from school, we went to a toy store and my wife gave me some shit about it, but I didn't care. Besides, I can't take a woman who used to regularly cut school seriously when she talks about the importance of education. But I feel like hell. What did you wind up doing?" "I took some of it, burned it and then dumped the ashes in a nearby lake," Calvin said, making Calvin nod. "Good, good, that's probably the appropriate course of action when it comes to material like that," Wyatt said, stopping in the aisle, causing Calvin to stop and look at him; Wyatt waited a moment, then lowered his voice and came closer, whispering, "and what about Wattson?" "What about him?" "He's clearly connected in some way." "All he did was have a key. For all I know, he and Oliver could've stayed friends into adulthood, and was the other one who had access to it, since Brighton took out his wife," Calvin replied, "there's nothing concrete to connect Wattson, and frankly I'd like to give him the benefit of the doubt, you know?" "But what do we do if he IS?" Wyatt asked, sucking on his teeth nervously, "...do we do it again?" "Do WHAT?" "You know what." Calvin couldn't believe this. Was Wyatt actually suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? Calvin waited before answering, trying to figure out how to further this conversation in both a way that would make sense without seeming like he was for it, and also not seem out of place considering they were in public. A couple college aged guys walked past, and once they were around the corner, Calvin finally spoke again. "You wanna blow him up too?" "Hey, you wanted to blow up Grudin, not me, okay?" Wyatt said, "you were gonna do that with or without me, and were working on it long before I came onto the scene, so. But this...yeah. This is a direct result of what we did, man. Oliver was blamed for our actions at the Morgana worksite, and as a result, he kills himself and his entire family, then is held up as the man who took down Grudin before he died, because Grudin was directly connected to Morgana's shady business practices. Now Brighton's a pseudo hero, and yet nobody knows what he was actually doing. We wouldn't even BE here right now having this discussion if we hadn't done what we did. Hell, I still can't believe they think he's the one who killed Grudin, but apparently his wife didn't want an investigation cause their daughter wouldn't be able to deal with it. We got so lucky, Calvin." "And now you wanna push that luck, build another bomb, and blow up someone else?" Calvin asked, sounding annoyed. "Oh, like you could've grown a moral compass in a few months, give me a break," Wyatt scoffed, and Calvin looked at him wide eyed, jaw somewhat open in surprise. "Are you even hearing yourself, man?" Calvin asked, "I've felt like shit since it happened and I've been trying to get back to something resembling at least semi-normalcy, and yet you're just like 'hey, let's blow someone else up!'. With no proof, even! If we had proof that Wattson was directly related to Brighton's horrid actions, then yeah, maybe I'd consider it, but if he remembered me from when I was in school, how far fetched is it that he also kept in touch with other former students like Brighton? I'm not saying he's innocent, but I also can't pin something on him with no proof whatsoever." Calvin shook the pipe in his hand in front of Wyatt's face and sneered. "Now I have to go home and repair a broken pipe, thanks for the enlightening conversation," Calvin said. "You're so full of shit, Klepper. You act so fucking high and mighty, but all you cared about was your personal pain, not the pain of those around you," Wyatt said, forcing Calvin to stop in his tracks. He gripped the pipe firmly in his fist and waited as Wyatt continued, adding, "I get that what happened to you sucks, but why wouldn't you wanna make sure other kids can't be hurt too? Huh? Or did only YOUR kid matter?" Calvin finally turned on his heel and walked briskly back to Wyatt, striking him across the face with the pvc pipe, forcing Wyatt to stumble back as people stopped to look, somewhat in shock. Wyatt, grasping onto a shelf full of faucet handles, leveled himself while rubbing at the cut above his eyebrow and grimaced. Calvin looked around, realizing the small smattering of onlookers, and then reached out his hand to Wyatt, helping him back up. As he stood back upright, Calvin pulled him closer and whispered. "We're done, okay? I don't know what you and the others wanna do, but I'm done," Calvin said quietly, before letting go and turning to go pay for his pipe, leaving Wyatt in pain, and confused. *** "Jesus, that's...yikes," Rachel said, dabbing at Wyatt's cut. She was on her break, and Wyatt had come by the coffee shop, so Rachel took him to the bathroom and offered to clean and bandage him. Wyatt, leaning against the counter, sighed as Rachel finished wiping down his cut and started to peel a bandaid to put on him. "He had every right, I pushed too far," Wyatt said, "I admit it, I shouldn't have said what I did, but I'm just so angry." "I understand," Rachel said, "I'm sickened too by the whole situation, but he's not wrong. It's weird that Wattson had the key, but it's also entirely plausible that he, as Calvin said, stayed in touch with certain students and Brighton was just one of them. But you, man, you need to find some way to relax." "How do you deal with it?" Wyatt asked as Rachel finished pressing the bandage to his cut and then backed away, tossing her hair from her eyes. "I...I don't," Rachel said, "I just keep it bottled up. Not exactly healthy, but better than getting into very public spats." Wyatt smirked at her attitude, and nodded. She was right. He knew she was right. He couldn't keep doing this, and he was only further endangering them by dragging things into a more open space. They had to deal with things privately, and without fighting. Wyatt reached up and gently touched the bandage, grimacing again as the pain surged and Rachel grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand from his head. "You don't wanna touch it for a while," she said, shaking her head, "Just go home and relax, okay? Try and take a nap or something." Wyatt nodded, looking around the bathroom. "Can I at least get a free coffee?" he asked. "...fine," Rachel said, laughing as she headed out of the bathroom, Wyatt on her tail. *** Calvin had finished the quick repair in his parents bathroom, and now was back in the shed, pacing, grumbling to himself about his interaction with Wyatt. He stopped and looked at the materials on the wall, some of which he had used to build the first bomb. Calvin reached out and picked up a clicking mechanism used for setting off the bomb and clicked it a few times himself. Why was he mad though? Wyatt had been rude, sure, but...did he have a point, actually? Had Calvin acted purely out of selfishness and grief, instead of valor? The world doesn't need heroes, he thought, at least not heroes like himself. He sighed and sat down on one of the stools at the work table, turning the little clicker round in his hand repeatedly as he thought about the incident this afternoon. If Wattson was involved, would he be able to do something about it? He'd feel lied to and used, that's for sure, but would he have the stones to go through with another killing? He didn't want to kill people, but he also didn't think certain people deserved to live, and people who hurt children were right at the top of that list. Did that belief stem entirely from losing his own daughter? Perhaps. But it's a noble belief nonetheless, many would argue. In fact, most would argue. He had seen the same paper Rachel had this morning. He always got the paper for his dad before breakfast, and he saw the exact same image The Evergreens had made, and it sickened him just like it'd sickened her. The only difference was... ...he couldn't let himself stay sickened. He'd already spent far too long being angry at the world. All he wanted now was contentment, and that was exactly the opposite of what Wyatt and others were offering. Calvin groaned and laid his forehead down on the work desk. He was beginning to regret ever having shown them the storage unit. *** Wyatt came into the upstairs bedroom to find Scarlett lying on the bed in her silk robe and her underwear. As soon as she saw his head, she sat upright and scooted down the bed towards him as he seated himself on the edge. "What happened to you?" she asked. "I had a bit of an altercation with a friend, it's fine," Wyatt said, "Rachel patched me up." "You went to Rachel and not home to your wife?" Scarlett asked. "This friend is a mutual friend of hers and mine, it's a long story," Wyatt said, "...god it hurts though. Everything hurts." Scarlett put her hands on both his shoulders and nuzzled up to him from behind. "Talk to me," she whispered, "you aren't talking to me, and it scares me. We share everything. What's up with you lately? You've been so...depressed, so morose. What's going on with you? I'm worried," Scarlett said softly. Wyatt sighed and shook his head. What WAS going on with him? He had such a good life. A great job, a wonderful family, a beautiful and fiercely intelligent wife, and two amazing kids. Why would he risk everything, and for reasons he couldn't even explain? He wasn't doing this on purpose. It felt like a higher calling. To rid the world of trash and make it better for his daughter, his son, every other child that was to come. Wyatt took one of her hands and kissed it, making her giggle. "I don't like the world," he said quietly, "it's a disgusting place, and I just don't want to see it hurt our kids. I wanna make it better. What I do...it doesn't make it better. It provides, it makes OUR lives better, but it doesn't make the world better in the end. I don't wanna be blamed as part of why everything is shit once I'm gone and the planet's fucking uninhabitable. I want to be remembered as someone who did more than just separate plastic from paper." Scarlett stroked up and down the back of his head slowly, knowing this relaxed him. "Baby, everything you do is good, okay? You're good. Don't ever doubt that please," she said, "and that's a valiant wish, and if you want to look for something better, something that helps the world rather than harms it I am one hundred percent behind you. I don't care about material things." Wyatt raised an eyebrow and she laughed. "Okay, well, I do but...I care about you and your comfort level so much more," she said, resting her head on his shoulder, "...remember in high school, when we were first gonna sleep together, and you told me you were a virgin. That was surprising. I mean, we were almost seniors, and yet you - a very popular athlete at school - was a virgin? Wild. But I didn't care, and when you said you wanted to wait, that was fine. Your comfort has always been important to me. Just as I know mine is to you, okay? We're a team, Wyatt. Remember?" Wyatt smiled and nodded, turning around and facing his wife. He leaned in and kissed her, as she put her arms over his shoulders. Then, without warning, he pushed her on her back and climbed on her, continuing to kiss her, making her laugh loudly. Somewhere along the way, he'd forgotten somehow that - before he'd become entwined with the others - he'd already had a teammate, and that was his wife, and he would do anything and everything for her. "Well," he said, kissing down her neck, "then let me skip 3rd base and go right to home." "Wow, you sure know how to talk to a woman," Scarlett replied, cackling as she reached over and turned off the bedside lamp. *** Sun Rai climbed into bed and yawned immediately, but as soon as she was done, Rachel had clung to her, making her laugh. She started stroking Rachel's hair, her head flush against Sun Rai's chest, and smiled. "I'm sorry for this morning," Rachel said, "I just didn't feel good." "It's understandable," Sun Rai said, "you don't have to apologize." But she did. Sun would never know this, but she did. She had to apologize. For everything she'd had a hand in, for this mess she'd help start, a mess that would, inevitably, she felt, be the end of them all. Rachel cuddled up to Sun Rai more and shut her eyes. But whatever came next, whatever horrors awaited them, she didn't care right now. Right now she was in bed with the girl she'd loved since high school, and that was more than enough comfort for her. The world could wait another day. Her world was all that mattered right now.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
About
A group of former high school classmates reunite at their 10 year reunion, and discover they each want something different, many with someone else there. What ensues is a labyrinthian relationship amongst them involving crime, murder, romance and, in one particular case, terrorism. Archives
May 2024
Categories |