Read Dustland Requiem (A Bard's Folktale) Page 13


  * * *

  “Wake up, jackass!”

  Glenn fell off the couch, or more accurately, was flipped off the couch. Unable to find his glasses, he strained to see who had assaulted him during his nap. As he felt around for his spectacles, he squinted, only able to distinguish blonde hair.

  “A-alma?”

  “Dreaming about teenage ass? Please, you creepy cradle-robber. Not even close.”

  He felt his glasses being pushed back onto his face as he looked up and recognized the face of his former paramour.

  “Emma? W-what’re you doing here?”

  “Checking in on you. Not that I care much personally, but your dad asked me to stop by. Been meaning to anyway.”

  “W-why?”

  “Why do you think, dumbass? Cris has been making herself sick worrying about you. She won’t admit it, but she’s too afraid to come see you. And for some messed-up reason I can’t figure out, you haven’t come to see her.”

  Emma grabbed Glenn’s hand, pulling him off the ground and sitting him back on the couch. She took a seat next to him, leaning back and getting comfortable.

  “Look, I know we’ve had our disagreements,” Emma started.

  “D-disagreements?” Glenn’s brow furrowed.

  “Or I swore hundreds of ugly children on you—whatever. The point is, for a long time we haven’t gotten along. But our personal history isn’t what’s important right now. My sister is, and she looks up to you like a big brother. Right now, she needs you to be one.”

  “What c-could I provide that K-kody c-cannot?”

  “You serious?” Emma sat up.

  “I d-don’t see how that could be a j-joke.”

  “Huh, wow,” Emma paused. “You’ve been gone a while. Kody’s out of the picture. MIA.”

  Glenn looked her over, examining her intentions. He watched her, reading her body language, and resigning his eyes to their pleasure. Smooth skin, soft face, well rounded. Complimented by a maize and blue V-neck and not-too-tight jeans. She was more sumptuous than he remembered. His mind slipped to other, more pleasant memories of her—and it showed.

  “Hey! Keep it in your pants! That’s the last thing I want from you.”

  Glenn chuckled to himself, trying to recount the number of different ways he’d heard that line before. He took to his feet, glancing back toward the courtyard. He moved close to Emma, taking her hand, and drawing her up from the couch.

  “What’re you doing, Glenn?”

  “Relax, it’s n-nicer outside.”

  He led her into the courtyard, bringing her to the fountain. He stood staring at it, lost in the spraying haze, before he began fidgeting in the pocket of his cargo pants. He pulled out a 50 Euro coin, tossing it into the water. The coin landed amid a collection of others from various nations.

  “I c-can’t remember…w-when was the last time you were here?” he asked.

  “Your dad’s house? You brought me here before prom.”

  “P-prom?”

  “You don’t remember? I guess that makes sense. Not like we made it to the dance. Glenn, what’s this all about?”

  He hesitated. Emma looked him over, the bitterness fading from her face. Even though she no longer looked angry, he couldn’t believe she’d ever forgive him. Emma nudged him.

  “They’re just thoughts. Go ahead and speak.”

  “Everything. I’ve m-made a lot of m-mistakes. The c-chiefest among them with you.”

  “I remember. But this isn’t about us. Cris needs you. Whatever bullshit excuses you’ve been telling yourself—like waiting by your pity pond for your life to magically get better—get over them and go see her. Even if it isn’t worth much, and even if you don’t give a shit about it, she saved your life. You owe it to her to help her get hers back on track, just like she did for you.”

  Glenn looked up into the sky, staring into the clouds. It was more blue than he remembered. More blue than he deserved. The midnight sun flying high next to its archrival, serving no purpose but to decorate the landscape of the sky. It didn’t make sense. Not from his perspective. But wasn’t that the point? He took in a deep breath, and expelled it all from his diaphragm, shouting into the sky.

  “What’re you doing?” Emma jumped back.

  “T-trying to make the w-welkin ring. Or become a d-dragonborn.”

  Glenn reached into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle, removing a pill from the container and swallowing it. He replaced the bottle into his pocket and turned away from the fountain, looking Emma in the eye.

  “W-what happened to K-kody?”

  “Ask her yourself.”

  Emma took a few steps toward the fountain and carefully leaned over the ledge, making sure not to expose too much cleavage. She drew a coin from the water, kissed it for luck, and tossed it back in. Without saying a word, she turned around and headed back into the lanai. Glenn appreciated the sight of her walking away as Emma disappeared from view.

  He cast his eyes toward the ground, watching the grass sway in the wind. Perhaps the dispassionate green possesses a little spirit after all, crossed his mind. The cool feel of the earth beneath his bare feet was something that never got old. He slowly pressed each toe into the dirt, one by one, the soil climbing into the crevices of his feet.

  Raising his eye-line again, he watched Bernard watching him from the atrium. The two men exchanged glances. Glenn shrugged, nothing more to offer, and returned to the hammock to finish his afternoon nap.