Latex; coffee; later
The light from the window is thin as piss and I run my hand through my hair, groanin; my head aches, and there's a taste in my mouth like dead earth. I roll over and shut my eyes, but there's no hope for it, and at last I drag myself out a'bed.
I throw on the same jeans and t-shirt from yesterday and the day before; I haven't been able ta go home for a change, not that it matters. Since the mines it's as if I've been walkin around in a skin a'latex: nothin touches me, nothin gets through. J says it's the stress a'the past few days, but that's not it, or it's not the only reason. There's somethin else, a hole in the ground I can feel loomin up before me. Again, not that it matters: not even the possibility a'walkin headlong inta the grave holds much weight. Whatever's comin will come, and that's all there is. Everythin else is window dressin.
I leave the room and walk down the short hall ta the kitchen. Auld and Ward are there, talkin in low voices, although they shut up as soon as they lay eyes on me.
"You have any plans tonight?" Auld asks.
"I'll have ta check my schedule won't I?"
Ward snorts.
"Better if you did have something to do," he says. "Better if you were gone."
He gets up and moves ta the hall.
"If we're doing this tonight I've got things to take care of," he says, throwin on his boots and exitin the apartment. I sit down at the couch.
"Seems upset," I say.
"Just a difference of opinion," Auld mutters.
"We're goin out tonight?"
"Back to the mines."
"And I'm comin." It isn't meant as a question, but he answers me anyway.
"You are."
"Thought maybe after the last time that'd be the end a'it."
"Almost," he says. "It's almost done."
"Well," I say, gettin ta my feet again. "That's good."
"You're going out?"
"Thought I'd get a coffee. You want one?"
"We have coffee here."
"I could use the exercise."
He closes his eyes.
"It's better if you stay here."
"Auld if there's somethin you've seen, some reason you don't want me goin out, you just tell me."
He shakes his head, passin a hand in front a'his eyes.
"I can't see much of anything today," he says, his voice flat.
"Might want ta think about gettin some sleep," I tell him. He laughs, but there's no life in his voice. He turns his back on me, and I take that as my cue ta leave. I know I'm takin a risk; Auld's never wrong, not about anythin he's bothered ta tell me, but that's exactly why I need ta go. At this point I'd almost welcome a surprise.
In the lobby the girl workin the desk looks up at me, and frowns. She's young, and pretty enough, not that it's easy ta tell with all the make-up, and the straight, too proper way she has a'sittin. By her gaze, it's obvious she doesn't think much a'me either, a Northsider with free reign in a buildin like this. She's never been anythin other than expressly polite ta me, but her distaste is plain enough, peepin out from behind every one a'her cool, professional smiles. I salute her lazily, pressin two fingers ta my forehead. She ignores me, and I exit the buildin.
Outside, I cross the street ta the coffee stand I've taken ta drinkin at. The boy runnin it is my age, or maybe a little older, and he's friendly enough. He smiles at me in greetin, his arm movin lazily as he works the pot over the flames.
"Rough night?" he asks.
"No worse than most."
He smiles again and sets about makin me a cup.
I glance away. Not far up the street is Hazel, walkin with her head down and her hands in the pockets a'her jacket. I pay the boy at the stand without botherin ta count the change and walk toward her.
"Hey," I say. The sound a'my voice causes her ta start, her head jerkin up quickly.
"Oh," she manages.
"Sorry. Didn't mean ta scare you."
"You didn't scare me."
I decide ta ignore the lie.
"Where are you headin?"
"Just walking."
"Mind if I join you?
"No," she says, but it's clear that she does. I hesitate for a moment, and then fall inta step beside her; I've got time ta kill and this is probably the best way I can hope ta kill it, even if she isn't happy ta see me. It's got ta be better'n waitin in the apartment with Auld.
"Bit cold for a walk isn't it?" I say. She shrugs.
"I wanted the air. I can't be inside right now."
I nod like I understand what she means and sip my coffee.
"What you got goin on today?" I ask her.
"I have class later."
I nod again.
"Well," she says, movin ta turn at the corner.
"Sorry. You wanted ta be alone. I'll just see you later."
She frowns.
"Or not," I add.
She exhales sharply.
"You're not really bothering me," she says. There's a tension in her, just below the skin. She presses a finger ta her temple and rubs it, but as if she isn't really aware a'herself doin it. I focus on my coffee.
"Where's Auld?" she asks abruptly.
"He lives in that buildin over there," I say, pointin.
"Really?"
"I found it hard ta believe myself."
"I'd like to talk with him."
"Need some advice?"
She looks at me, her mouth tightenin.
"Not exactly."
I laugh.
"I wasn't offerin any. I start givin advice and there's no hope left for the world. What I mean is, you got some need ta see the future?"
"You don't?"
"I've had enough a'lookin ahead," I say. She's about ta respond when someone calls out from across the street; without thinkin, I move in front a'Hazel, like a shield, but the man approachin is no agent or cop, just a well-kept young head in a fur-rimmed jacket. His broad face breaks inta a lopsided grin, and he waves. I know him, but can't place his name. Some college boy I sold powder ta once, or amphetamines.
"How are you?" he asks, crossin over ta our side a'the street.
"Fine man, fine."
"What are you doin down here?"
"Takin in the sights," I say. "This is Hazel."
He nods at her, and she smiles thinly.
"Listen," he continues, droppin his voice. "I'm out of powder. You got any on you?"
"I'm not dealin anymore."
"Shit, really?"
"Afraid so."
"Well, you know anyone who is? What about that big friend of yours?"
"We're both done. The Institute bought a contract at the mines."
"I heard about that, but – "
"It's over," I say, cuttin him off. He looks at Hazel, who's busy ignorin us both.
"Well," the boy says, turnin ta go.
"Hey," cuts in Hazel. "Why do you want the powder anyway?"
"You got any?" he asks quickly, his eyes lightin up.
"Just curious."
"I need to talk to an outsider."
"Why?"
He frowns, collectin his thoughts. Suddenly he looks uncomfortable. I drink my coffee and wait.
"Well I met one once, and I didn't much like what he had to say. I just thought I would, I don't know, get a second opinion or something. "
"What'd he tell you?" Hazel asks him. The college boy laughs, but there's not much humour in it. He shifts on the balls of his feet, and runs a hand through his hair.
"Said he could only see as far ahead as next month. Anythin after that was like looking at a blank wall. That was a few weeks ago now."
"What do you think that means?" asks Hazel.
"I don't know," he says, and then he turns ta me. "That's why I when I saw you here I thought I'd ask. That prophecy of his didn't make me feel good, I can tell you that."
"It's always that way with them," Hazel says, an edge in her voice. She stares at the ground in front a'her, bitin down on her lower lip. "They should be
more... I don't know, proactive. They should be trying to help us."
"I think maybe we're better off on our own," I tell her.
The boy laughs, more confident this time.
"Well," he says. "I better get goin."
"Later," I say. He leaves, but Hazel continues ta stare at the pavement like there's somethin written on it. I decide ta leave her ta it, and finish off my coffee.
"I better go too," she tells me, after a while.
"You got plans?"
"Yes," she says shortly.
"See?"
"What?"
"If you've got plans you must be pretty confident about what's comin next. So what difference does it make what Auld has ta say about it?"
"It's more complicated than that."
"Yeah well," I say. "Life usually is."
She looks at me, and smiles for the first time.
"You're right."
"I'm as surprised as you are."
She laughs. I think it's the first true laugh I've heard in a week.
"Later," she says.
"Yeah," I say. "Later."