Fall 2014: Story 1.1

Dichotomy

I dreamed that the world was ending, and it was beautiful. It wasn't the Sun burning the planet to a crisp like scientists like to say. The temperature was actually quite pleasant, even though the Sun had led the way into a black hole.

Half of the sky was the kind of dark that could only exist when something ceaselessly hungry is sucking up the light. The rest seemed to brighten in protest. It was mostly filled by the moon and Saturn, which were both drawn so close to the Earth that they would have probably crashed into one another if all weren't being drawn in another direction. About half of Saturn was already slipping into the dark. An aurora tinted all of it- the last gift the dying sun had to give.

The gravity was a bit off. I stayed on the ground just fine, but snow crystals drifted upward at the slightest breeze. All of the lights made the snow glitter in the air...

I check the clock: 6:45. Fifteen minutes until Vincent picks me up. I wander to the closet and grab two pairs of flats. Standing in front of the mirror, I hold each pair next to my knit floral print dress. The black ones definitely look better, but they rub at the back of my heels and the skin would be raw within an hour. But then again, the brown ones are starting to show wear. I frown at the mirror. Style or comfort? I roll my eyes and pull on the brown shoes.

I open up my purse to make sure nothing's missing. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Lipstick case- with the wrong color inside. I swap the red out for the light sandy shade I'd put on. Mints. Bobby pins. Aspirin. Everything's in place and I still have ten minutes.

I go downstairs and turn on the TV. After flipping through a commercial for Alpo dog chow, a rerun of The Bachelor, some news program, and an ad for Viagra, I settle on a fight scene in Pirates of the Caribbean. I've seen it before and I don't particularly fancy Johnny Depp with that much eye liner, but the one-liners and the swords clashing to the time of John Williams is a perfectly adequate way to pass the time spent waiting for something to happen.

At precisely 7:00, there is a ring at the bell. I can see the shape of a figure through the frosted glass. I guess that would be Vincent. I shoulder my purse and open the door. The man on my front step is of medium height and average build with brown eyes and brown hair. He is wearing a pale yellow button-down shirt with dark jeans and sneakers. “Vincent?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “Jill?”

“Uh huh,” I say.

Vincent smiles. “Shall we?”

I smile back and lock the door behind me. Vincent leads me to a beige Honda and opens the passenger door. I get in and buckle up. The interior of the car is clean. The seats are upholstered in gray fabric.

Vincent gets in the driver's seat. “So how was your day?”

“It was fine, thanks,” I say. “And yours?”

“Good,” he says, starting the car. “Yeah. It was pretty good.”

“Well that's good.”

“Yup.”

There's a silence and I fiddle with the hem of my dress. We pull out of my neighborhood and stop at a red light. “So what do you do, Vince?”

“It's Vincent,” he says. “and I'm an accountant.”

Oh boy. An accountant. I've always wanted to meet an accountant. How exciting!

“What do you do?” Vincent asks.

“I train people's dogs,” I say. “Beth didn't tell you?”

“I guess not. Do you have a dog?” he asks.

I look down at my shed-free lap. “Not right now.”

“Oh.” The light turns green. “Not a bad subject, is it?”

“It's fine,” I say and start fiddling with my hem again. “It's been a while now.”

“Are you going to get another one?”

“Eventually.”

“Well that's good,” Vincent says.

There's silence again.

We pull up to an Italian restaurant and get out of the car. Vincent walks to the host stand and says, “Vincent Brown. Party of two.”

The host looks up and smiles. “Okay. Your table is ready. Right this way.” Vincent and I follow the host to a table in the middle of the restaurant. I take the seat facing the kitchen doors and he sits across from me. The host continues, “Ryan will be right with you.”

“So what do you do for fun, Vincent?” I ask.

“I like to read mostly, but I also enjoy a game of Pente.”

“What's that?”

“It's kind of similar to Go,” Vincent says.

“Still lost,” I reply.

“It's a game played on a grid with stones,” Vincent says. “It's hard to explain without showing you.”

“Okay,” I say.

The waiter arrives. He's tall and lean with dark hair and blue eyes. Crap. The waiter shouldn't be hotter than my date. This isn't fair.

“Hi,” he says. “I'm Ryan. Can I get you something to drink?”

I order a glass of Chardonnay and Vincent orders tonic water with lime. Ryan turns to walk back to the kitchen and I focus on Vincent to avoid staring at our waiter's-- Shoulders. Yeah. Shoulders.

“So what do you read?” I ask.

“Nonfiction mostly,” Vincent says. “Economics books, sometimes statistics.”

Oh my. I wonder how this guy manages to stay awake all day. “Interesting,” I say...

In my dream, the people weren't panicking. They weren't running around screaming or breaking windows or looting the fleeting world's material treasures. Nobody was crashing cars into department store windows or driving at all. In fact, nobody was going anywhere.

Everyone had found a place to lay down on the grass and stare at the sky in wonder. Everyone was silent, and they almost seemed to be aware of the great speed at which they were hurdling through space upon the chunk of rock we call home. And that impossible sky made glittering reflections in everyone's eyes.

It seemed everyone knew they were all going to die and they had decided to enjoy their last moments in quiet serenity rather than fear. The inevitability of the Earth's plunge into darkness made any effort seem pointless.

I was the only person who stirred, and I was running...

“And what do you like to do?” Vincent asks.

“Well,” I say. “I like all sorts of things.” I unfold my napkin and place it in my lap. “I like traveling. And I draw.”

“Neat,” Vincent says.

“What do you draw?” Ryan says, placing our drinks in front of us.

“landscapes and animals mostly.”

“Awesome,” Ryan says. “I'm working my way through art school myself.” He smiles.

I blush.

“Are you two ready to order or do you need a few more minutes with the menu?”

“A few more minutes, please,” Vincent says.

Ryan smiles again. “Alrighty. I'll be right back.”

Vincent and I disappear behind our menus. I figure out what I want pretty quickly and place my closed menu back on the table. Vincent is still hidden behind his. Is he reading the whole thing through?

I look around the restaurant. The lighting is bright enough to feel warm and dim enough that the darkness outside is still apparent. The walls are adorned with maps and pictures of Italy and paintings of tomatoes. Most of the tables are occupied by couples and families with kids. Ryan is kneeling at one table, writing down an order. When he finishes, he stands back up and goes to enter it into a touch pad computer screen.

Vincent turns the page in his menu. This is the last time I will let a client set me up with their brother.

I sip my wine. Ryan glances our way, notices Vincent still reading, and disappears into the kitchen. My stomach threatens to growl. And a minute later, Ryan returns with a bread and two little plates.

“Thank you, Ryan,” I say and reach for the bottle of olive oil sitting on the table.

“Enjoy,” he replies. “Do you need help with the menu, sir?” he asks Vincent.

“No thanks. I'm almost ready.”

“Okay. I'll be right back.”

I pour some olive oil onto my appetizer plate, grind some pepper into it, and sprinkle some Parmesan and basil on top. I use a piece of bread to stir the mixture and then eat the bread. It's sourdough. Fluffy on the inside with a strong crust. It's delicious.

I'm on my second piece of bread when Vincent closes his menu and notices it. He takes a slice and eats it plain. “So what kinds of landscapes and animals?” he asks.

“What?”

“You said you draw them.”

“Oh right, yeah,” I say as Ryan makes his way back to our table. “I like mountain and forest settings and my favorite animals are carnivores. Dogs, wolves, big cats, and the like.”

“That's an interesting contrast,” Ryan says. “Why those?”

“Mountains and forests have slow power and hunters have fast power,” I reply.

Ryan nods. “I like that. Anyway, can I take your order?”

“Yeah,” Vincent says. “Can I have the spaghetti with marinara please?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan says. “And would you like any meatballs on that?”

“No thanks.”

I blink. He read the menu all the way through and then got spaghetti with marinara? What was he doing? Looking for tomorrows stock numbers in the entree prices?

“And what can I get for you, ma’am?”

“Can I please have the linguine with asparagus and white wine sauce?” I say.

“Sure thing. And would you like me to put any chicken on there for you?”

Considering the relative prices of what we'd each ordered, I declined.

“Alright,” Ryan gave us each a smile. “I'll get that going. Can I get anything else for you?”

Sure. You can take a seat and hand your apron off to Vincent here. “Just some water, please,” I say.

“Certainly.” Ryan gets up and goes to enter our order.

I take another sip of my wine. Vincent places his own napkin in his lap.

“So,” I say. “How's Beth?” Stupid question. I just saw her and Pepper yesterday.

“She's good,” Vincent says. “Do you have siblings?”

“A half sister,” I say, “but we aren't close. We certainly don't set each other up on dates.”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“Not really,” I say. “She's married, so I couldn't set her up with anyone anyway.”

“I can see how that would be unwelcome,” Vince says, “but I just meant that it's a shame that you two aren't close.”

“I guess,” I say. “She's five years older, so we never had much in common. And we were each mostly raised by our own moms. They don't like each other.”

“Gee, I wonder why...” Vincent says.

“Yeah.” I smile a little...

I wasn't just running- I was sprinting, and the milder gravity lengthened my strides into enormous bounds. I ignored the magnificent sky in favor of scanning the grassy hills. I was looking around desperately for someone I knew would be able to help. He had to be somewhere. But all I saw were the rolling hills with their eerily weightless grasses waving at the slightest breeze and sedate people mesmerized by the sight of their impending demise.

Where was he?

I ran to the top of a hill and turned in a circle, looking for anyone moving at all. There was no sign of him. It occurred to me that someone might have seen where he went. I started walking down the hill towards the row and stopped at the first person I see.

It was a blondish guy with greyish eyes and a white cotton shirt. He was lying on his back in the grass like everyone else, staring at the sky, his mouth agape and his pupils dilated.

I stooped next to him. “Hello?”

The guy didn't twitch.

I shifted so that my face blocked his view of the sky. “Hey, so have you seen anyone other than me run past?” I asked.

The guy grunted slightly and tried to push me out of his view.

“Please, just focus for a moment,” I said.

“What for?” the guy mumbled as if speech itself was a monumental task.

“I think I might know someone who can help.”

“It's a black hole,” the guy said.

“I know. Humor me. Please.”

The guy tried again to push me away. He wouldn't even look at me properly.

I squeezed his hand. “Please.”

The guy aimed our joined hands off to the west and said, “The caves I think.”

“Thank you!” I said and started to get up. Thinking better of it, I knelt back down long enough to run my other hand through his hair and kiss him briefly before running west...

Vincent finishes his first slice of sourdough and takes a second. I take another sip of Chardonnay and put the glass down so it can wait for the meal.

“So what does your sister do?” Vincent asks.

“Everything,” I say. “She's a chef, teacher, and janitor rolled into one.”

Vincent frowns. “Small school?”

“She's a mom.”

“Oh,” the frown subsides. “Funny.”

I take my third slice of bread and use it to soak up the last of the olive oil on my plate. But then I still have bread in my hand and nothing to dip it in, so I pour more onto the plate.

“How many nieces and nephews do you have?” Vincent asks.

“Three,” I say. “Twin boys and a girl. Do you and Beth have any other siblings?”

“No,” Vincent says. “It's just us. Well, she has Bill and German Shepherd.”

“Pepper, yeah,” I say. “I work with her. She's great.”

“I suppose she is now,” Vincent says. “I suppose I should thank you for the end of her biting habit?

“It's never all me,” I say, “but you're welcome.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well Pepper only sees me once a week.” I finish the piece of bread, but there is now oil left on the plate, so I take another. “Training doesn't stick if I'm the only one involved in the process. It's less about me teaching Pepper and more about guiding the relationship between her and her humans. If Beth and Bill didn't stay consistent with her, Pepper wouldn't have learned anything.”

A waiter that wasn't Ryan set a tray next to our table. “Okay, I have a linguine with asparagus.” I raised my hand slightly and the waiter put the dish in front of me. “And a spaghetti marinara for the gentleman,” the waiter continued, placing Vincent's food in front of him.

“This looks wonderful, thank you,” I say. I scoop up a piece of asparagus with my spoon and use it to anchor the noodles I'm twirling on my fork. It really is excellent. “How's yours, Vincent?”

“It's good,” he says between bites and then takes his first sip of his tonic water. It must be going flat by now.

Ryan walks up to our table and asks, “How's everything tasting tonight?”

“It's perfect,” I say.

Vincent nods.

“Excellent,” Ryan says and rushes back to the kitchen...

I ran over the hills and a barren cliff face loomed over me in the quick sort of transition that makes perfect sense in a dream. The ground turned from soft grass to stone in an instant as I made a beeline for a wide crack in the cliff face. I hardly cared about the rough terrain or loose rocks. As soon as I got to the opening of the cave, I took one last look at the bizarre sky and scrabbled inside.

The cave wasn't much darker on the inside than it had been in the hills. The walls, ceiling, and floor had green crystals jutting out of them, and the light seemed to bounce through them all over the cavern.

It was enough light to see that I was definitely alone. There was nobody here to help me figure out how the crystals figured in to saving the planet. I had to figure it out all on my own and I had absolutely no idea what to do...

I continue eating my dinner, glad for an excuse not to keep fumbling around for something to talk about. Vincent seems utterly engrossed in his spaghetti, so I savor the way that my wine and the food complement each other. As I keep eating, I try to figure out by tasting how they had made the dish so I could duplicate it at home. The linguine and asparagus are obvious enough ingredients. And white wine sauce was mentioned on the menu. But it is creamy. How did they make a creamy sauce with wine without curdling the cream? I guess they must cook out the alcohol before adding the cream. That would make sense. Herbs in it too of course. And I'd probably add spinach and some squash at home too. And maybe salmon. Yeah. That would be amazing.

I take another sip of wine and contemplate the slice of garlic bread sitting on the edge of my plate. I usually avoid it on a first date to avoid garlic breath, but it looks so good. After another twirl of linguine and another sip of Chardonnay, I glance up at Vincent, who just got hit in the nose by the end of a slurped spaghetti noddle and doesn't wipe away the sauce. And then I eat my garlic bread.