Chapter 9:

Earth, Swallowed by Black Holes of Dreams and Ignorance

Midsummer Crisis


In the morning, me and Kirk meet up. We didn’t have to decide on a place to do so- we both already knew there was only one option. At the center of town, on the freshly-shaved, dewy green turf, we gather in the park. The early morning sky is overcast. The only other people out today are a few old ladies. I can tell it’s gonna be a long day for me, but I don’t really feel all that anxious. After all, there isn’t that much left to be scared of in this town. I think that, while it won’t always be the case- at least for today, things are gonna go my way again.

“Hey! Excuse me? Grandma! Hey!”

Of course, as soon as I think that, Kirk is yelling at a senior citizen.

“Kirk, what the hell?” I go after him, pulling at his shoulder before he can do anything.

“Roscoe, do you SEE this? She’s putting her cigarettes out on the ground!”

“Kirk… I don’t think it’s gonna start a fire or anything with how wet the grass is…”

“There is a trash can- RIGHT. THERE. Can she not see? Lady! Are you blind?”

About to die of embarrassment for the first time in a while, I desperately try to drag Kirk out of the situation, but he’s not letting up.

“You shouldn’t even be smoking in the park! Heck- you shouldn’t be smoking in the first place! I mean, how old are you? Do you have any idea what that might do to your-“

“Kirk!”

For once, the man listens. He shakes his head at the woman, waving his hands in resignation. I take him over to a nearby tree so we can get to talking.

“You know, it’s great to be seeing you again, but sometimes I really do wonder what’s wrong with you.”

“Don’t say that, man.” Kirk pouts. Ah, geez. Now he looks hurt again. This guy really is high matinence, but I’m glad he shows what he’s feeling as soon as he feels it. Makes talking with him a whole lot easier, even if I end up feeling like his mom from time to time.

“No, I’m- sorry, it’s just that you’re… kind of a handful sometimes.”

“Well I’ll be. You’re really calling me out all of a sudden, Roscoe.”

I look at him, flummoxed. “Oh yeah? Guess I am, huh…”

“Yeah, you are. You wouldn’t have… ever done that before. You’re the one who’s acting weird.”

“Hm, yeah.”

Kirk just laughs. “Anyway, today I’m gonna try and work some things out. I’m sure you’ve got more to talk about too, but… I really oughta fill you in, especially after I missed my chance yesterday.”

“Aw, that wasn’t your fault.”

“Nah, nah. I should’ve tried to explain myself quickly, with all you had- have- going on.”

“Well… let’s, uh, hear it then. Your dad… is keeping you in to study all day everyday, yeah?”

“…Yeah, yeah that’s basically it. Mostly, he’s trying to help me make college plans… I guess I’m thankful, but it’s so… intense every time we do it. Stresses me out.”

“He… said some things, I’m sure you remember… back when I tried to see you a few days ago and he shut me down.”

“Mhm. Sure did. Guy drives me up the wall.”

“So… what is it about all that? I mean… Why's the man the way he is? Cause I- I mean, I don’t want to to judge, but- like, there’s gotta be an explanation for that, right?”

“Yeah… well… He’s mostly dragging back up his own resentments. I’m sure you could’ve guessed as much, but… dad hasn’t had the best luck in life. Not how he sees it.”

“Mhm. So… what happened to the guy? I mean, where’s he coming from? I don’t wanna piss him off again…”

“Alright. I don’t know everything, but… there’s definitely reasons for all he does. He… Well, you see, he grew up in poverty. Real bad. Doesn’t… talk about it all that often, but I know he lost his mom pretty early on due to… sickness, or malnutrition. As for his dad… Well, to me, that whole side of the family’s pretty much nonexistent. I think the old man… geez, guess he’d be my granddad, if he’s still out there… he was probably abusive. Neglectful for sure, from what mom’s imparted on me from her knowledge. Dad still hates the guy. Never talks about him, but… on the rare chance his name shows up, he just… gets this look on his face, and… Sheesh. Between that and the setting he found himself in, being raised in… well, it would’ve been the eighties, I guess… things just… started out bad for him, and it was like they kept getting worse and worse.”

I find my eyes drawing more and more to the dirt as Kirk speaks. You don’t want to see these sorts of stories coming straight out of someone’s mouth, after all. You wanna distance yourself. Try to keep it in the past. At least, I do. Maybe in some ways, I’m still a coward. But of course, I don’t stop Kirk. I don’t say a word to him. And with a deep breath, he continues.

“Couldn’t… find a steady job, where we live… we never been away from here, just kinda found ourselves stuck in the south for generations… he… think he found himself having to deal with a hell of a lot of assholes… people would blame all sorts of things on stuff about him that didn’t really matter… around here, mostly his race, obviously. He would hop from employer to employer, always running into some “issue…” of course, it was always the same things. Didn’t like his “background.” Didn’t like how he looked. To us, that’s a different time, at least a little different, I’d like to think. But to him… well, that was his introduction to the world. S’awful. Yet… despite it all, he just kept trying. Just doing the same thing over and over again. One day he’d get fired, humiliated, assaulted, you name it… next he’d be up and at it again, like nothing even happened.”

At this point I was looking at Kirk. I was looking him right in the eye. I didn’t feel like being a coward anymore. It was kind of pathetic, honestly.

“Cause he… Well, he had a lot he wanted. He kept saving up trying to get a house. Government would take his money. He didn’t care. Above all else, he dreamed of love. He wanted a family. He wanted a wife and at least two kids. He wanted to push someone through a better life than he had, and I think that kept him going. But what I… don’t completely understand is why he didn’t just leave this damn place. I mean… I get it, times are rough further you go back, I mean, the 80’s? Christ, I sure can’t imagine. But… at least it might’ve been a little better if he went… I dunno, up north someplace, right? Better than here, I imagine. Somewhere people’d care. No, just somewhere people wouldn’t hurt you for things you couldn’t help. I mean, I’m just some kid, not like I can say a whole lot about that. Like I said, I can’t really hope to know what it was like then. Not for sure. But what I can say is that there’s always a solution. I mean… Roscoe, you know me, I’m a positive thinker, right? And there just had to be somewhere better than here. But he stayed. He stayed here his whole life. And… I don’t know why. Any guess I made would be a shot in the dark. That said… if I’m really gonna be honest with myself here… I think it… well, could it have been out of pure spite? I mean, you think after all this world did to him, he just wanted to stand up and scream at it? Like a stubborn child, just sit in the same spot and scream? That’s what I’d figure.” Kirk rests his arms on his knees, his jeans on the cool green ground. “Maybe it’s stupid.”

I turn my gaze to the sky. “No, I think so too. I mean… hearing all that, it explains a lot about the way he lives.”

“Yeah. He’s… a good guy, at heart. Just wants things to work out for once. And I want that for him, too. But… it really does suck, being stuck inside all day. I mean, I’m just not built for that, you know? I need some excitement once in a while.”

“Oh, I know.” I answer. “You make damn sure of that.”

“Mhm, mhm. And I know I can be a bother about it sometimes. Maybe that’s my dad in me too. He lived his life in injustice, so I’m obsessed with setting things straight… even though, around here, there ain’t much to correct. Not now.”

“Kirk.”

“Yeah?”

“I feel like that too. Except it’s like… there are some things I can’t set right, and I just feel guilty for no reason. Like, after hearing all that about your dad… geez, I struggle to even care about my own problems anymore. I mean, it’s not like I’ve forgotten them, just that… I feel kinda bad for thinking about them. Compared to that story, they’re… well, downright meaningless.”

“Shit, Roscoe, don’t think like that. Not for a second. If there’s one thing we oughta keep in mind around this age it’s that comparing ourselves to anybody else- some kid or an adult, doesn’t matter- is absolutely idiotic. I mean, how are you ever gonna get anything done if you’re thinking all day about how much my dad’s life sucked forty years ago? Hell, I think he could probably use that advice himself. I know I do.”

“Huh. Yeah, you’re right. That is kinda stupid. And.. lame, most of all.”

“Damn straight.”

“So what can we… do? I mean, he’s not letting you do hardly anything…”

“Seriously. It was a struggle to even leave the house today. But I think… well, maybe if he sees I’m using my time well, he’ll give me some more leeway. So… on that note, any advancements in your situation?”

“Kirk, I need a job.”

“Well, didn’t expect that. You saving up more money to pay those… what was it… Tubers?”

“V-Vtubers. Yeah. I mean- wait, no! No, no! My dad… I mean, my mom- oh, geez, this is a lot to explain.. uh… my family’s running lower and lower on our savings. I gotta pitch in. And fast.”

“How fast are we talking?”

“End of summer fast.”

“That ain’t nothing! In fact, you could swing by my work! Remember that girl I told you about? My uh, crush? She’s working there today. I could introduce you! It’d be fun! And if you like it, I mean, hey, who knows, with how slow it’s going there right now, they might hire you on the spot!”

“I kinda doubt it… but… hey, alright, it’s a start. I’ll check it out.”

“And then what?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well you aren’t just gonna check out one place, are you?”

“Well…”

“I could help with that.” A cold voice chimes in. Still sends shivers up my spine, only now it  make me wanna laugh more than curl up in a ball.

“Elias.” I say, turning to the boy. His blue jacket’s still on him, but it’s wrapped around his waist. He honestly looks a little stupid, but I don’t tell him that. I’m brave, but not that brave.

“I thought it was funny, how much I saw you running around recently… I was curious. But Roscoe, if you’re just looking for a job… I have a place you could try. That is to say… I suppose  I could allow myself to assist you… just this once.”

“Uh… what? This isn’t… you aren’t trying to pressure me again, are you?”

“No… um. No. That would be… sad, really.” Elias looks away from all of us. “I don’t want to be that kind of person. I mean… honestly, it’d be embarrassing. And there’s nothing I hate more… than embarrassing myself. So please… just take the offer. Come visit my work today.”

“Huh. Since when are you two friends?” Kirk asks.

“We like the same anime.” I say, silently laughing to myself.

“Okay.” Kirk answers for me, grinning. “We’ll accept your offer. That is to say, if I can go too.”

“Yes… of course. Let’s all go job-hunting for Roscoe. Maybe we can all learn something.”

“You got a deal.” I say. And out of nowhere, Elias is more than a neutralized threat or brushed away annoyance. He’s my own ally, just like that. I might not be so socially inept after all… even if I had to basically make him psychologically crack with the power of anime to get him to see himself and realize what he’s been doing wrong.

“Alright, Roscoe.” Kirk says. “Let’s go hop in the car. First stop, Heelclickers.”

The drive to Kirk’s work is short. Unlike me, Kirk is a seasoned driver, especially when it comes to a place he goes to every week. Heelclickers is a local shoe store, one of the few not tucked away in a dying mall. I bought my last pair there, some orange sneakers that I’m wearing right now. Nobody really talks in the car, I just look out the window as Kirk watches the road. And, of course, Elias just looks straight ahead, maintaining his carefully crafted posture.

When we step out onto the pavement of the not even half-full parking lot, the sun is glaring down on us. The former grey sky has given way to a white-hot summer day. I follow Kirk’s lead, the three of us entering the sliding doors of the business as we’re greeted to a cash register and rows upon rows of shoeboxes, but very few customers. Kirk goes straight to the check-out, and approaches the girl running it.

“How’s it hanging, Darla?”

“Oh! Kirk! So nice to see you.” The brown-haired worker’s face is immediately brightened a bit by Kirk’s presence. She straightens her uniform, and asks what she can do for him.

“Well, my friend Ross and I are looking for a job for him- and we were hoping I could show him around.”

“Oh, yes! Of course!” She replies, clasping her hands together. “Which one is he?”

“Oh, the one with the messier hair. That other one already has a job at… where is it?”

“Martin’s.”

“Martin’s?” Kirk shouts. “Ain’t that that super-stuck up fancy place? How’d you get them to hire a teenager?”

“It’s all a matter of presentation. You just have to show them you’re mature enough to handle the work. Though… after all, it’s only waiting tables. It’s pretty easy, so long as you’re good at talking to people.”

“Hey, I’m good at that. Wouldn’t you say so, Darla? Roscoe?”

“Uh, yeah.” We say, basically in unison.

“So… why don’t you work there?” Elias prods. “The pay’s about the best you can manage at our point in life.”

“‘Cause it sounds boring as heck.” Kirk plays with some keychains by the register. “Here, it’s like we have a family. What do you have there? Breadsticks?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself when we visit. I think both of you’d take interest- it’s just… nice there.”

“Alright. Hey, Darla, can you help show Roscoe around?” Kirk asks.

“Yeah, mhm.” She answers. “Hey, Ronnie, can you cover for me?”

“Sure thing!” A tall blond teen answers, coming in from the bathroom as if he were waiting inside for his cue.

With the register manned, I’m shown around a very simple installment with a lot of heart. Nobody here is really working that hard. The few employees I see are mostly having conversations. Heck, I could do that. But then I notice something. While most of the people here are my age or younger, there’s one lady who’s a tad older. She walks around, ordering people around- I infer she’s the supervisor or boss, I dunno how it works here. She goes up to someone, gives them a task, and they drop everything to do it, switching right from play to work. Now that… I definitely don’t think I could do. I mean, I’m not totally lazy, but, if you give me the opportunity to slack off, it’s gonna be hard to flip back to work mode…

“And that’s the store! We’re all one big family here. Whaddya think?” Darla asks me.

“It’s… uh, nice.”

“Well, I’ll get back to work now. See ya!”

Kirk smiles at her as she leaves.

“Does she… know you like her?” I ask.

“Who’s to say? She will once I tell her. No point worrying about it.”

Walking back to the car, Kirk asks me something.

“Do you work well under pressure?”

“Uh, I dunno. Why?”

“Cause this wouldn’t be the job for that. This is for the more adaptive types, I say. Though I’d reckon most people would fit into that. It’s the perfect job for a teenager, at least.”

“Yeah… I dunno. I think I might actually need a bit more pressure. A constant flow of work, like… you see, when I was fixing things with my dad, there was never a point in which I wasn’t doing something- other than breaks, I was always using my hands, trying to figure something out, or making a concerted effort to reach a goal- it’s constant stimulation. A stream of application. That’s what I need.”

“Is that so?” Elias adds. “Maybe Martin’s might actually be more up your alley. Come on, even if you think you couldn’t do it, let’s stop by. I’m sure they won’t mind if you’re with me.”

“Alright. Kirk, you driving?”

“Who else…?”

We make our way to Martin’s. A good ways further out from the town than Heelclickers, the drive stretches on for a bit. Kirk puts on some music- country. Elias is not pleased. I don't enjoy it much either, but I’m desensitized thanks to my dad.

The restaurant is built on the facade of elegance. It’s not that expensive or anything, but I assume this is the type of place you’re expected to take a date. There are nice plants and lights up outside, and as we enter, even more. We’re immediately stopped by a greeter, who tries leading us in before Elias reveals our agenda. Privy to his word, the man gets us directly into the kitchen, and our blue-jacketed semi-friend starts touring us around.

“This is the kitchen. And… this is where we hang up our uniforms, and this is…”

Nobody comes to stop us or talk to us. In fact, nobody is “chatting” at all. The only things I hear are the sounds of pots and pans and the occasional FPS callout for “more vinegar!” Or such and such. I’m not even doing anything and it’s stressing me out.

“Now this, Roscoe… this is a stream of application. This is what you’re looking for.”

“There’s… just one problem…”

“What’s that?”

“I kinda hate it.”

Elias’ fake closed-eye smile sears into me like a brand. To me, he’s clearly pissed, but he’s being nice about it- in his own strange way.

“Well then. Why don’t I show you how a waiter works?”

“Uh, how?” Kirk asks.

Elias puts on an apron. “Why, go get a table, of course! I’ll be right there!”

Kirk gawks. “Man, we don’t- we don’t have money for that! Roscoe’s trying to GET paid, not build up a debt!”

Elias groans. “I guess it can’t be helped. Here, then.”

He hands us both a twenty and we exit the kitchen to sit down. Kirk looks at me from across the table. Then, at the menu. Then, at Elias’ generous grant.

“You know, I still don’t think this is enough.”

“Hello!” The dapper-dressed Elias appears. “Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Eli, this is…” Kirk starts. “We don't have time to-“

“Just say something! You think I’m gonna give you a full-course meal?”

“Okay.” Kirk answers. “We’ll have uh, water.”

Elias rolls his eyes and then pulls us up from the table.

“Wha- what now?” I try to ask as we rush past other tables. I really do have a habit of getting dragged around by other people.

“I wrote your order here… and now, we go and get it!”

“Yeah… I… get that.” I say. “Is this- is this really necessary?”

Elias, having had enough, stops in his tracks and takes his money back. “Okay then.” He says. “Maybe you’re more of an instructional learner. Look- see, the real game is in how you talk to people. You see how nice I was to you two back there? That was were the effort went.”

“Didn’t impress me…” Kirk adds, a smidge foolishly.

“Fine then! I guess I’m just not good enough for your incredible standards. Roscoe, what do you think of this place? Great? Good? Just okay?”

“I… yeah, I uh… do not like this. Not one bit.”

“Can you describe why?”

“It’s like… I can be nice, I can act it even… but I wanna do it in like, a better environment… you know, at say, a gathering of any sort, I can be… friendly, but that’s only with the knowledge I can express myself while doing so. This just seems like hell.”

“Well, do you want a job or not?!”

“Okay, okay- before you go on- I do. I just need… some time to think, okay?”

“Okay. Let’s go then. Kirk, you have the keys?”

“Yeah, I have my- why are you two so worried about who’s driving?”

“Well, I can’t drive.”

We both turn. “What?”

“I can’t drive, alright? It… scares me.”

“Oh, me too.” I reply. “But also, cars just kinda bore me, so I’m not really motivated to…”

“That’s the worst! If I wasn’t so scared, there’d be not thing stopping me!”

“Uh… well, yeah. Our circumstances are different. Nobody’s arguing with you.”

“…Oh.”

“Are you two gonna stop comparing your lives, or are we gonna be here until this place closes?” Kirk interjects. “Come on already, let’s go home. I don’t want my dad getting mad.”

The drive back starts silent, and remains so most of the way through. It’s only when we get back into the neighborhood that anyone speaks up.

“…Today was fun.” Elias says.

“…Yeah.” I add.

“You know-“

Before he can continue, we end up parked in Kirk’s driveway. His father’s at the doorstep. He tells us to leave as he steps out. We watch the two begin to argue as they head inside.

“Roscoe.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna try harder not to be a dick. It’s unbefitting of me.”

“Okay.”

And with that, the odd boy takes off, wearing his jacket like a cape. It looks even stupider than before, but I actually like it.

Walking home in the afternoon is always a good feeling. Even if I get confused about what’s going on, I can count on the next step I take leading me closer to home. Since my house is pointed right to the direction the sun rises, the closer that big hall in the sky is to it, the more time has passed. I try not to make a habit out of staring directly up at the sun, but I do it for a second as I go home. Sometimes, life really does feel like you locked both your eyes on a star billions of miles away.

A car pulls up next to me. Normally I’d run, but I recognize it and know that would only make this more embarrassing than it’s already going to be. I walk right up to the window.

“Seth. Whaddya want.”

He rolls it down and looks out at me. His eyes are like a zombie’s.

“You looking for work?”

“Do I want to know how you found out?”

“Relax, your dad told me. I’m not a stalker, remember? You just made that up in your head. Hey, look… work of advice… just do what you want. Even if you go hungry… sometimes, that sounds better than beating my soul in at the office… kid, I dunno what I want, so I’m pretty much screwed either way… do you? Do you know what you like?”

Huh. I guess I don’t.

“No. I’m not so sure I like anything.”

“Well then. Christ… good luck anyway, kid. Try not to die.”

He drives off. I just keep walking home. God, what a downer. He could’ve just not stopped me to ruin my day. But whatever. He’s just an asshole, anyway. I promise myself again to never end up like him.

But… if I don't wanna end up like him… maybe I really should think about his advice.

Shit, do I like anything? I struggle to think. I feel like I’m passionate about a few things, but nothing I could make a job out of… I give up on thinking about it for now. I gotta sleep on things. And eat. Man, am I hungry…

I use the last of my energy to start running. I can do a good sprint, but my jog sucks, so I really just end up clearing a block or two fairly fast before I’m left panting and stumbling down the road even slower than if I’d just walked the whole way.

After a mild trek in the summer heat, my house is in sight. Just a bit further. Of course, there’s one that’s closer. Funnily enough, it’d be easier to go to Cleo’s, even if just a little.

I can’t help it. I don’t know how to feel about her anymore, but something makes me go and knock on that door. Maybe just to find out if it was all a dream. Maybe I do love her, and I just need to see her face again.

She opens the door, smiling like always. Yeah, she’s pretty. It’s just… I don’t really care so much anymore.

Wordlessly, we sit back on the couch. She asks me something.

“What are you most worried about?”

It takes me a moment to answer.

“In… in life?”

“Sure. What’s bugging you the most?”

“Where to start, uh… landing a job, figuring myself out… oh. I’m sorry for… running out last time, I…”

“Don’t apologize. It’s what you felt like doing, so you did it. That’s honesty. Though, you could’ve just said no, I guess. Look, I’m just trying to help you out. I’m not really that smart or anything.”

“You’re not…? Could’ve fooled me…”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“God, don’t say that… I… I hate that word, “flirting…”

“Why?”

“It’s… gross, makes me uncomfortable…”

“Roscoe, do you like people?”

“Wuh? Uh, sure… I like people… even if they’re annoying…”

“No, do you like people.”

“…Oh. Uh… I, uh… I dunno.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, it’s just like… if I didn’t have to worry so much about getting a girlfriend, I’d like that.”

“Roscoe, people get girlfriends because it makes them happy.”

“Oh.”

Something crunches inside my brain, like a thick jawbreaker I’ve been chewing on for over a year to just now snap with my bare teeth.

“Yeah, thinking about getting a girlfriend doesn’t make me that happy at all.”

She smiles. “Then who knows? Maybe you’re like me. Or maybe not. Doesn’t really matter. You can live your life either way, you know. Living life… means doing what you want, get it?”

“Oh… huh. Yeah. That is what it means.”

“Glad you recognized that.”

“So… uh… I mean, you look like you’ve got it figured all out… so… I mean, what worries you… Cleo…”

“Recently, it’s thinking about whether or not you know I’m Sumire Anata.”

“Ogh.”

An entire race of thoughts inside my brain is nuked by a genocidal dictator. Every fantasy, every hidden laugh, every bit of knowledge I thought I had over her- that I was her fan, and she didn’t know- it’s all murderized in an instant. As a result, my mind goes completely and utterly blank.

“I guess I know that, yeah. I mean… I’m… I’m… your- fan, of- course-“

Oh god. It hurts. I just start bawling out of nowhere. Painful ugly tears. Right out of my face. The blunt emotion of talking to Sumire Anata finally hits me right in the face, with no excitement to numb the blow. We are now, for the first time, both speaking to each other honestly. As who we are. And the feeling is too painful to express.

“Anata… I don’t… love you… because… I don’t love… myself…”