Written by Baz
July 28th, 2010

By: Baz

[Chapter 03: Intension]

[Volt]

I understood why Akrest left the bar, if I were in the same position I would’ve escaped too. A week had passed since the funeral and I barely realized it. I had been spending all of my time at the station trying to find out more information about Agate. My first lead was her sister who took over the flower shop after she passed. I was hoping to find some information about the letter, thinking that maybe Agate asked her to mail it after her death.

Agate’s sister, Amy, was four years younger than her. She had Agate’s same jet black hair and petite figure. They looked almost identical except Amy had bright green eyes that always reminded me of a cat’s eye. We got along better than her sister, mostly because Amy didn’t really like her all that much. I approached the white and blue flower shop that was very mundane compared to the more modern buildings in downtown Seattle. It stuck out like a sore thumb and because of that it garnered many customers.

Aside from selling flowers, Agate also provided a café with various caffeinated drinks. This attracted the artsy crowds from bigger coffee shop chains. The people seemed to almost live at the shop, always there with their laptops and various business papers sprawled not only on the tables but the floor around them too. It was difficult to find a seat I imagined, but I wasn’t there to waste space or leech Wi-Fi. I cut through the line and approached Amy who was frantically trying to juggle customer’s demands of coffee and bouquets.

“Hello Amy, it’s Volt.” I said loudly over the generic jazz music and grinding coffee beans. “I need to ask you a few questions about a letter that Agate wrote.”

She was shocked to see me and motioned for her two other employees to cover her as she took off her navy blue apron that had accrued a lot of coffee stains. The smell of lattes and various espresso beans was so intoxicating it felt like I was getting a contact high from the persistent fumes. She waved me back to the employee lounge and sat down on one of the generic plastic chairs you’d find in school.

“It’s been a long time, Atlas.” She was one of the only people aside from my family who called me by my real name. “How have you been?”

Sitting down across the circular table from her, I cleared my throat and pulled out the torn envelope with the date postmarked still visible. “I’ve been alright, I’m concerned for Akrest though. He’s become a recluse.”

“I feel about the same as he does, the only thing keeping me going is this shop.” She said, standing up and walking to the counter. She poured coffee in two paper cups and added creamer and sugar to them. “Here you go, just like you always loved it.”

I nodded to her and took the warm paper cup from her. I couldn’t stop staring at the light brown hue of the coffee. Making a conscious effort, I averted my attention back to Amy and focused on my main goal.

“I want you to take a look at the handwriting and date on this envelope. I found it on the floor of Akrest’s apartment.” I handed it to her and sipped on the sweet coffee that moistened my goatee as it steamed into my nose and eyes.

She carefully picked the envelope up and examined it, I was examining her closely as she did. There was no change in her blank expression as she looked it over. After a moment she slid it back across the table to me.

“That’s really strange, I wonder who placed it there.” She looked at my hand as I pocketed the envelope. “Wait, you don’t think I’m a suspect, do you?”

Her hands moved back under the table as she asked the question.

“Right now I am just trying to find out more information about her death, no stone unturned.”

“She did leave a voicemail on the night before she was found dead, she sounded panicked. I figured it was the high amount of drugs they had her on. You think she might’ve been murdered?” she concluded.

I took another gulp of coffee before answering. “It’s very possible, I’m opening her case and doing a full scale autopsy on her tomorrow. The body is to be recovered from the grave tonight.”

She was offended at my last statement. “You can’t be serious? Desecrating her remains?!” she stood up and started toward the door. “This conversation is over, Atlas, and as far as I’m concerned so is our friendship.”

She knew how hard-headed I was, that I would not stop the investigation at her request or anyone else’s. I finished my coffee quickly and followed her back out to the shop front. I had lost my fair share of friends and family to this job, and she was just another notch on my belt. I decided as I exited the shop to call Akrest and check up on him.

∞∞∞

[Akrest]

I sat up in bed, my phone rang loudly and nearly vibrated off of the table. I fumbled for the phone and checked who was calling. I took a deep breath and answered the call, wiping sweat from my brow.

“Hey Volt, what’s up?” I asked, pretending to care.

“I was just checking up on you and also wanted you to know that I’ve reopened Agate’s case. I have reason to believe it’s a murder.” His voice was sharp, yet his tone very cold.

“A murder?” I hadn’t even considered her cause of death to be anything but natural.

“Yes, I will let you know if there is any new information about her. Just be careful because if it was a homicide, the killer may be after you next.” He cautioned.

“Thanks, Volt. Keep me posted and please, please respect her death.” I really didn’t want to think about what they may do to her body in the autopsy, it felt like they were desecrating her, regardless of if it was my old friend overseeing it or not.

“No problem.” His tone changed to a more positive one. “And since you knew the most about her, would you mind stopping by my place and telling me any details that may lead to her killer?”

That’s the last thing I wanted to do, I was really dead set on living the last of my days here in this apartment. ‘Pull your head out of your ass and get outside, Akrest!’ I thought to myself, taking a deep breath.

“Alright, where are you staying at these days?” I realized how little I knew about him anymore.

“I have a suite at The W, I’ll tell the desk to show you up to Room 317.” We exchanged goodbyes and I decided to get up and shave. A quick shower later and a fresh set of warm clothes and I was out the door to the Parking Garage.

The apartment I lived in was just outside of central Seattle, where the skyscrapers melted down into countless residential buildings that all looked the same. The graveyard where Agate’s body lay was just up the hill, naught but six blocks away. I unlocked the Mitsubishi Eclipse car door and hopped inside. I hadn’t used the car since I signed over the flower shop to Agate’s sister, Amy, four months ago. I started the car and was surprised it still had a full tank. I looked to the passenger’s seat where Agate would always sit, leaning more toward me than the door.

I plugged my Zune HD into the car stereo and that’s when I noticed the floor mat of the passenger’s side had caked on mud with noticeable pink hues. Upon further inspection, the pink hue became a dark maroon color as my eyes moved up to the seat. There was no mistaking it for blood. I felt like I had seen a ghost, blood seemed to dissipate from my face to my gut. Whose blood was this? It couldn’t have been mine; I would’ve recalled something like that happening to me. There had to be at least an ounce of dried blood on the black leather interior. I couldn’t go to Volt’s hotel room with something like this in my car.

I checked the arm rest compartment for any sort of cleaning supplies and finally found some in the glove compartment. The cleansing wipes were a bit old but would have to do. I pulled up the floor mat and placed it overturned on my doorstep. I enjoyed being able to park in the garage and have quick access to my apartment without having to go in through the front. I hated seeing people, especially ones I’d hear fucking through the paper thin walls every night.

I shrugged off the thought and proceeded to clean up the rest of the blood. I was distracted by the white wipes becoming pink and then red with every swipe of my hand against the soft leather seat. The remainder of wipes were thrown into a small plastic bag and placed along with the floor mat into my house. I locked the door and took off down the street.

As soon as I hit downtown Seattle my mind began its usual course of wishful thinking. I knew I wouldn’t find a good parking spot let alone be able to get to one easily during rush hour. The constant stop-and-go rhythm of traffic quickly put me in an almost trance-like state. Linkin Park’s Numb drowned out most of the beeping and squealing of brake pads against tires as I made it to University Street. I was trapped in the left lane and noticed a strange looking man on the sidewalk.

His eyes are what caught my attention, devoid of any color and dilated. Next his black wool coat and grey short-peaked hat and then his unusual Poly-Gabardine black pants with navy blue shoes. He had a strange aura around him as well; he seemed to walk in slow motion and never miscalculated a single movement. As I watched this poetry in motion my whole body seemed to be drawn to the left sidewalk as well as my car. The last thing I saw was a brief blur of a utility pole and my steering wheel enveloping my vision as it lunged up to bite me with an unconscious grip.

Red lights and the sparking red spider webs on the outer rim of my dizzy vision woke me up. My head fizzed and pounded relentlessly as I steadied my equilibrium upright. The first thing that came to my rattling brain was that I couldn’t have police and paramedics see any remains of the unknown blood that was on the passenger seat. I knew no amount of wipes, as much as they’d like to claim they kill 99.9% of bacteria, could clean up the dried blood down to its molecular bond to the leather. I didn’t have enough strength to exactly flee from the scene quickly, in spite of all the spectators gathering to see the wreckage. My vision finally cleared up enough to effectively open the door. I looked past the faceless people for the peculiar man but couldn’t find him anywhere.

“Are you okay?” an older woman asked me, helping me out.

“Yeah, I’ve had better days though.” I sighed; the front end of the vehicle was totaled.

“There’s an ambulance on the way. Here, let me help you to sit down.” She grabbed my arm and pushed people with cameras glued to their face out of the way.

Whether I liked it or not, there was no time to double-check for any remaining evidence. I just hoped my blood would be found rather than anyone else’s on the seat. Blood that I had not noticed before began streaming down my face and dropping its temperature in the chilly weather. The woman reached in her purse and pulled out a couple aspirin, wet naps, and adhesive medical strips. It reminded me of my grandmother when I first saw her, she was a walking hospital.

“Come prepared?” I laughed a bit.

“Just try to relax, I’m going to nurse the wounds on your forehead and arm a bit. Take these.” She handed me the aspirin and began dabbing at my forehead first. “I actually used to be a nurse here in Seattle back in 1965. There used to be a hospital close to Elliott Bay on Harbor Island.”

Just like my grandmother, always talking about her past. I just wanted to get out of there quickly.

“In the springtime an earthquake hit and crumbled most of the foundation it was built upon. Within the next day the hospital was completely submerged in the bay, we couldn’t get all the patients out quick enough. What a tragedy it was.” She blabbered on, moving to my forearm with her wet naps of stinging pain.

I nodded occasionally and began to think about the man I had seen earlier, he stuck out like a sore thumb in this town that’s for sure. I looked up to see the paramedics approaching me with various boxes full of medical supplies. Their blue t-shirts didn’t really make them look convincing and I doubted any of them gave a shit about what they were doing. I answered typical questions and got a little nervous when the police stepped in.

“What’s your name?” the testosterone drenched officer asked.

Before I could respond another suit asked me for my license and an explanation, what a bunch of idiots. I reached for my wallet and handed them my license. Before I could get a sentence of explanation in, Volt ran up and flashed his badge at the coppertops.

“He’s a suspect in case investigation number 354364, I will take it from here sirs.” He said convincingly, then he leaned in to the officer who first spoke to me and whispered something. The officer nodded and looked back at me momentarily while he and his partner left the scene.

A tow truck arrived and made its way through the now-thinning traffic to tow away my ride. I stood up and grabbed my Zune HD and coat. Turning around, Volt got right up in my face.

“What the hell were you thinking? I expected you to call a cab and not try to drive in your state of mind!” he yelled, the crowd of gatherers dissipated in his wake.

“Whatever dude. Thanks for getting the cops off of me, why don’t we take this conversation inside?” I diverted, not wanting to be outside anymore. I had been stared at enough today to fill a lifetime.

“Alright, just try and be more careful from now on.” He let off. “Especially with this case being reopened, Akrest. There’s no time for publicity stunts.”

We rounded the corner and ended up right outside The W Hotel. It’s white exterior with square black accents reminded me of a game of chess for some reason. Atop the building was a looming pyramid of glass polygons that brought back days of wireframe video games. Black flags with The W printed in white flown quietly in the wind above the entrance and two similar plaque emblems of The W made out of black marble marked either side of the entrance. Once inside the lobby, the first thing that caught my eye was the grey and black tiling that was edged off with wood flooring. My footsteps didn’t make as loud of a sound as I imagined they would when I walked upon the tiles. We began our ascent up a small set of stairs to go to the elevator and it was difficult to take my eyes off of the eight metal bars that wrapped around the balusters. The cold steel quickly warmed in my hands and I noticed people looking at the wound on my forehead as we waited for an elevator to come down.

“This place is really nice!” I exclaimed, having never been there before.

“It’s pretty cool I admit. Akrest, you’ll have to pardon the mess upstairs. It’s been pretty hectic with the new leads in the case of your late wife.” His voice always seemed to go from cheerful to solemn every time he mentioned her.

I knew that they didn’t get along too well; being as I had basically chose her rather than him. He had just relocated up here when I moved out to live with her. I can be real jerk sometimes.

“It’s all good, I’m sure the distractions of this luxurious hotel will help.” I joked as we entered the elevator.

We arrived in his hotel room moments later and I spent a good five minutes checking the place out before returning to the light brown couch with red throw pillows placed at either end. They seemed to magnetize toward me as I sunk into the comfy, soft couch. I hadn’t even noticed all the scattered papers and random newspaper clippings pinned to the wall nearest the bed. Volt sat on his bed and grabbed his laptop to check up on work.

Agate’s smile haunted me as countless pictures on the wall stared me down. Her mischievous smile always gave the illusion she knew some deep, dark secret about you and I hated it the most.

“So why exactly are you reopening her case? You said you had reason to believe it was a murder?” I asked, sitting on the bed beside him.

“I’ll need a handwriting sample from you, turns out that letter you got from Agate may have been written after her death. And if that turns out to be the case, the killer would have written it.” Volt explained.

“So I’m a suspect? Volt, you know I could never do something like that to her, I love her above all else.” I confessed.

He nodded sympathetically, and handed me a pen and paper.

“I’ll also need that letter as evidence.” He said with a deep sadness.

The weather became overcast and I could tell that a storm was brewing. I had finished with the handwriting samples and answered Volt’s questions about Agate’s death. I gazed out the window through the wooden blinds until a phone call broke my spell.

“Hello, this is Volt.” Volt said, answering the call.

His look of optimism faded into concern as he eyed me for a second then looked back to the carpet.

“Okay, thank you, I’ll be out momentarily.” He ended the call and looked over to me. “Agate’s body is missing from her grave.”

“What? That’s impossible!” I was shocked, who took my wife and what did they do to her?

“I’m heading out to the cemetery near your place, you’re welcome to tag along or hang out here. It shouldn’t take long; they said they found no evidence of tampering.”

I decided to stay here awhile and recover from the accident. Sure enough, thunder struck and lightning flashed outside the window. I was used to such bi-polar weather in Washington. Volt gave me a spare key and grabbed his overcoat and left quickly. I waited a few moments before getting up and heading to the bathroom to assess the damage done to my forehead.

A brilliant, oval-shaped mirror with ivory and brass flowing around it showed me my rough condition. I took a breath and turned the faucet on. The frosted green glass countertop felt cold and coarse under my fingernails as I leaned in and stared at myself for a moment. I rinsed my face off and patted it down on a really soft, white, and fuzzy towel that became as pink as the wipes did when I wiped down the car. I stared at the little dried specks of blood amidst the reddish hue and lost myself in them.

Lightning cracked outside and startled me; I snapped out of it and threw the towel in the trashcan. I really needed to get ahold of myself. I wonder if it really was a murder, the more I followed Volt, the more likely the outcome seemed to materialize. My ears were still ringing a bit as I shut the light off and sat down on the bed. Minutes passed and I grew increasingly impatient. I gathered my Zune HD and coat, opened the door and left. I needed to get out of there, I needed a drink.

∞∞∞

[Volt]

I arrived at the graveyard and approached the fellow officers gathered around an upturned grave. I slid under the police tape and said hello to them as I looked inside the casket. Sure enough, it was empty. No signs of tampering, no loose dirt around the scene aside from what the police had created in acquiring the casket. There was nothing to work with. Akrest’s statements didn’t give me any real leads either. I was about to leave the scene when I noticed a crumbled piece of paper in the bottom of the casket, upon further examination it was a ferry ride ticket stub. The date was unreadable and the weathered paper itself was in bad shape.

Upon further inspection I was finally able to make out which ferry it was, the Seattle-Bainbridge Island Ferry. I texted Akrest letting him know I’d drop back by and pick him up to head with me to the island.

Another cop pushed past the others and looked at me. He appeared to be in a standard work suit with a dark blue tie that went well with his lighter blue undershirt. The man’s receding hairline and fire engine red complexion startled me a bit. He had a striking red goatee that had two patches on either side of his chin. It appeared that he was in the FBI or another bureau outside of the state’s jurisdiction. He wore a nice black trench coat that repelled the constant rain. Down and down the rain drops slithered along the coat creating a dizzying effect if stared at long enough. He grabbed the stub from my hand and spoke with a strange accent I could not recognize.

“We’ll be taking over from here, buster.” He said, flashing his badge and turning away to his men who were coming up to the crime scene. Sure enough he was in the FBI; I didn’t need to see his badge to know that for his cockiness was quite enough.

I didn’t even bother retorting or conversing, I radioed my Chief and told him I was heading home for the day. I quickly got into my truck and took off. After I picked up Akrest, we’d head to the ferry before the hour was over and before any other cops could catch a ride.

By: Baz

[Chapter 02: Rain of Brass Petals]

[Akrest]

I awakened in my apartment disoriented and dehydrated. My head pulsated so hard it nearly made me throw up. I tried sitting up in my bed but was quickly pushed down by an oddly strong hand.

“No you don’t!” the man scolded. “You need to lay down and relax, buddy. You made quite a scene at the funeral…”

The more he spoke the more his face was drawn in my mind until it was clear who he was.

“Volt? Is that you?” I asked, trying to turn my head to look at him sitting beside the bed.

“Glad you still recognize my voice, you prick.” He answered coldly.

He hadn’t changed a bit. His real name was Atlas, but everyone called him Volt because of his spastic, vulgar and eclectic personality. I became his friend in one of the many middle schools I attended back then but made the mistake of forsaking him for Agate. He was one of the few friends who stuck with me as I was dragged from town to town, he’d always come over every weekend and we’d spend our time together gaming. He was also the only one of my friends who was gay. It’s not that I really gave a shit about other people’s sexuality, I just always thought that that was their business, not mine.

I finally managed to turn on my side and looked at him. He was completely different from how I remembered him ten years ago. He was very feminine back then, but now he was burly and spoke with a rugged, dry voice. His porcelain, soft alabaster skin was pristine still, not a wrinkle in sight. He had green eyes and bleach blonde hair. His natural brown coloring was only visible in his roots and eyebrows. Now he wielded a goatee and had various piercings on his ears, lip, and god knows where else. I understood his coldness towards me, I had screwed him over right when he moved to Seattle to live closer to me.

“You were at the funeral? I didn’t see you in the crowd.” I pointed out.

“Yeah, I had arrived just before your now infamous speech.” He handed me a cold beer. “Was there some of Oprah Winfrey’s eulogy to Rosa Parks in there? I noticed some of Senator John McCain’s speech to Mark Bingham in there as well.”

I laughed. “Don’t hate on me, I didn’t have anything to say really. Not to mention that I made the speech about an hour before the service was to begin…”

“You’re the only dude I know who has nothing to say at his late wife’s funeral.” He said as he took a hearty swig of beer.

The beer tasted horrible, I was never really a big fan of it. I preferred either hard liquor or the cheap wine coolers in the back corner of the store. I took another swig hoping to get rid of the nasty taste and regretted doing so. I sat up a bit and looked around my messy apartment. Amongst the many posters of bands I loved like Linkin Park, Tegan and Sara, Brand New and Modest Mouse, there were a few pieces I drew mixed between them as they covered virtually every wall in the bedroom. I remember Agate getting really annoyed with my obsession with music. I would play it in the car when she would try to talk, I would listen to it in the shower, at night on my Zune HD, on my computer, I could never get enough.

“So I had this dream when I was unconscious,” I began. “I was in a field of flowers, buck naked and Agate floated down from the sky above me. We made love, which is totally unlike me, and then I woke up. It was really strange but also felt very natural to me.”

“Yeah I figured you were having some wet dream because as I carried you back here, you, uh, made a mess of your pants, buddy.”

I was embarrassed and annoyed at the same time that he continued to call me buddy even after all these years. I looked away from the posters back to him.

“Well it could’ve been worse…” my voice trailed off as I entertained the thought of doing something even more obscene in my sleep.

“I suppose. What was up with you screaming at everyone?” he asked concerned.

“All I know was I was giving the speech in front of all those people and then suddenly something took over me.” I explained, “You of all people know that I am not a very angry person. Well, at least not that angry.”

He stood up and nodded as he began picking up around the place. I tried to get up and help him, but quickly became disoriented and nauseated as soon as I stood. I sighed and fell back into the ocean of fluffy, soft blankets and pillows. I started to think of the possibilities of the funeral outburst. Did I have multiple personalities? Was I that unstable? Was I possessed by something? Round and round question after question rattled my already throbbing brain. I reached for some aspirin on the nightstand aside the king size bed.

“So are you still with that one dude?” I asked Volt, trying to make small talk and seem somewhat caring about him.

He turned to me and set down miscellaneous junk I had thrown around the room in my seclusion. “No I’m not with Vincent anymore- he turned out to be like every other gay dude: a horny douchebag. But thanks for asking about my life.”

I laughed and finished up the grotesque beer, I wondered if the attendees of the funeral were pissed off at me Then again, they had it out for me at the start me of dating her.  Volt was never the same to me after I moved in with Agate and cut off nearly all communication with him. The more I was around his new masculine persona, the more I realized that he was always like man he is now deep inside. It was just covered up by a lot of attitude and estrogen I suppose. He sat down on the bed beside me and finished his beer.

“The more things change the more they stay the same, eh?” he looked to me for affirmation.

I nodded and went after his empty beer, brushing against his hand as I grabbed it and threw it in the trash beside the nightstand. He looked up at me and I looked away quickly, this was really uncomfortable.

“Awkward…” I laughed, the beer had a stronger effect on me than I anticipated.

“Yeah, you’re like a brother to me.” he made a disgusted look at me.

He pulled out a crumpled up envelope from among the remaining trash on the floor.

“This is from Agate. Looks like you didn’t read it yet, it’s sealed.”

I grabbed the envelope trying not to look as eager as I really was. How had I missed this? It was postmarked and everything. I tore open the seal and immediately smelled that familiar sugar-coated perfume. Volt picked up the discarded envelope and perused it.

∞∞∞

[Volt]

As soon as I picked up the envelope Akrest had ripped open, I checked the date. Yesterday? That’s not possible! Before I had a chance to show Akrest, he began crying as he was reading the letter. I wasn’t sure what I should do, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea if I tried to hold him. So I just looked at the ground until he was finished reading the letter sent from the dead. I looked over to him and watched him neatly fold up the paper and place it in his wallet. He looked over to me and lunged at me, sobbing relentlessly.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright, I know it’s hard.” I sympathized.

In all honesty I didn’t know what it was like to lose someone you love. I never truly experienced love yet. I’ve had my fair share of lust and mindless fucks though. After five minutes or so he came around and looked at me, collecting his thoughts.

“She said exactly what I needed to hear.” He said in between sobs.

It was pretty strange being here with him, I had longed for his presence for quite a while now. Ever since that bitch took him, his friends and I were fucked over. I put the postmarked envelope in my pocket and decided it was best to not tell him about the date it was sent. I was a detective after all. I would get to the bottom of this and give Akrest time to grieve. It might be possible that she was alive; it was a closed casket service. He didn’t need to know, for if it was untrue and she wasn’t alive, it would devastate him even more.

I was going to head back to my place and begin my investigation, but seeing Akrest’s current state I decided to take him out.

“We should go out to a bar for some drinks, get changed and I’ll be in the living room playing Playstation 3 while I wait, okay?” I suggested.

“Actually that sounds like a great idea, give me five.” He said taking his shirt off and looking in his closet for a clean, less formal one.

I made my way to his television and booted up the Playstation. I was in the mood for Bioshock 2.

∞∞∞

[Akrest]

I quickly got dressed to go out to the bar. I really could use some downtime away from all this sadness. As we left the apartment, I should’ve known that the sadness would follow me close like my own shadow. I was out of my element and ready to have a good time. Anything to stop this disgusting sickness that wouldn’t cease.

We ended up at some local bar that I soon realized was more suited for Volt’s taste than mine. There were a lot of same sex couples, and it was obvious that they didn’t care who saw them have sex. I kept my hands in my pocket and tried not to touch anything as we approached the bar. I glanced at the clock and discovered it was almost midnight already. Volt asked the bartender for a screwdriver and I went for a jack and coke. The female bartender looked like she came out of an anime film and gladly served us drinks.

Come to think of it this entire place was very neon and futuristic themed. The bar was made out of some fluorescent green Plexiglas with various tags that drunk people wrote all over it with a permanent marker. The tag closest to me read: “Life is still sweet” with what looked like a pitchfork adorned with a halo above its tips. Looking at the amount of black lights in the bar this seemed more like a wannabe rave than a local bar or club. There were various pillars of Plexiglas complete with shelving that held bright lava lamps all over them and as I looked past the dance floor, I saw the furniture was mostly neon blow-up plastic chairs and couches.

“What’s up with all the plastic?” I asked Volt, unable to look away from all the fantastical fluorescents.

“It’s easier to clean up the mess I suppose, plus it looks more cool than a plain old bar.” Volt said, laughing a bit at the end.

As I sipped on my jack and coke, I realized more and more males were flocking to me. I tried to ignore them and focus on my drink. Volt began chatting with various gays and kept introducing me as his “straight friend.”  I grew increasingly uncomfortable as the night went on and was hit on constantly. Volt went to the restroom with some dude he barely knew and told me to loosen up and have a good time as he left. I focused on my drink and tuned out everything around me. Guy after guy came up to me trying to get me to go out with them and dance. I finally was fed up with it all and left the bar.

The crisp, cold weather outside nipped at my face as I walked to the other side of the street. Walking alone in Seattle was something I never quite got used to, I was always afraid of the uncertain, especially at night. I picked up the pace and buttoned up my wool black jacket to defend against the chilly conditions. Winter had its grasp on the Pacific Northwest longer than usual this year. The season enveloped the trees and plants, suffocating them and sucking on the last bit of life they sustained. The pavement was a little slick from the rain last night and it beckoned me to fall. As I walked, Agate flooded into my mind again.

We were coming home from a fun concert one night in the summer two years ago. We held hands and huddled closely together as we laughed about old times and shared stories. It was times like these that I loved her deeply. I always felt like a little kid when she was around but felt like an old man after she was diagnosed. Her black hair was the same as always, shoulder length and infinitely distracting as it seemed to have its own physics while blowing in the wind. It would flutter up and down, ebbing inwards and outwards like an ocean dyed black. Her light blue eyes contained specks of green that eclipsed her pupil and the coloring seemed to darken or lighten according to her many moods. I remembered looking into those eyes the last few weeks of her life and seeing death take over their intense hue, voiding it of any color.

I glanced over at her as we rounded the last street corner to our apartment complex, she locked eyes with me and smiled like an angel. The moment was over and nothing stood beside me as I climbed the stairs to the doorway.

‘Why did you have to die? Why did you leave me with only a heart exhausted and a tongue that spoke rarely to any one anymore?’ The more I asked these questions the less apparent the answer became. I unlocked the door of apartment 13 with a rusty, slightly bent brass key.

Relieved to be home again my reclusive behavior would take hold of me for another week. Volt hadn’t called or visited and I was slightly happy for that. I didn’t want to face the world, I didn’t care for company. That long, arduous week was spent in my bed, staring at the posters I once took pride in. I had given up.

[Chapter 01: Seclusion]

Upon reading the last words of his late wife’s final letter to him, Akrest wasn’t sure how to feel. The letter must’ve been written about a month before her passing, for it mentioned an argument he recalls them having. Akrest Maeda was 32 years old, had blue eyes and a rough chiseled look about him. His chin was square, his arms bulky and too big for his frame. He bore many tattoos, a cluster of tree branches on his left bicep, a star where his watch should be on his left arm. Etched upon the back of his neck was a peculiar symbol representing infinite time with an hourglass shape with an infinity symbol around its waist.

There were many more tattoos on his legs and a large black and grey tattoo of an anchor covering his entire back. He was an artist of many mediums; drawing, painting, writing, creating music, and sculpting. He acquired all of these necessary burdens at a young age when his mother, a single parent, drifted from lover to lover and location to location. Never having a solid foundation to build social skills on, he would instead immerse himself in his imagination. Very unusual things spawned in his mind; strange creatures, magical worlds, and unique characters became his own mythology after a while. Before he knew it these fantasies began materializing in the real, cold world through drawings and sculptures. It was as if he was only a chronologist to his imagination, painting their world into reality. He watched them grow old as he himself went through a tough life.

Before he knew it here he stood alone and hopeless. His wife died of coronary heart disease and if he didn’t pick himself out of this depression he would soon follow her. He had not left his apartment in weeks and had no real urge to. Her letter to him wasn’t a positive one. It marked the end of their marriage, the end of happiness. Their relationship strained soon after she was diagnosed one year prior to today. Akrest remembered when her doctor told her vividly. They had gone to the doctor to find out if they could have a child together. In a period of five years of marriage, they still made love often and led happy lives together. They did a full blown set of tests on them, for neither of them had been to the doctor’s in well over ten years.

“I have some unfortunate news, Mrs. Maeda,” the doctor said, the sentence that no one awaiting results of a doctor’s visit wanted to hear. “upon testing we discovered your arteries are abnormally narrow. It is very likely that you have coronary heart disease. We’d like to do a few more tests to determine how far along the disease is and what treatments will ensure a speedy recovery.”

The weight of the bad news would not only crush their marriage, but end her life as well. From that moment on, Akrest knew they were in for nothing but dark days. Her disease would be confirmed in subsequent tests and in retrospect; Akrest realized that this would be the last time they would feel like they were in love. The stress of her condition mixed with potent drugs and more tests and longer stays at the hospital estranged their marriage faster than either of them realized.

There were so many tears he had shed over her that he found himself drained. He gave up his life of close friends so they could build a future together. Now that he knew she was dying at that point, his feelings would soon falter underneath all of the pain and loneliness to come. When she was well enough to come home most of the time it was negative. They would feed on each other’s stress, lashing out at the other from all of the pain and confusion they found themselves sinking in. Akrest could not recall the last time they made love or any other positive connection at all during her last months of living.

There was a saved voicemail on his cell that he refused to delete. She called him the night before her death.

“Hey Akrest, it’s Agate,” her weak voice forced him to listen closely. “I just want you to know that I love you and I’m sorry for taking you down this path in life. You deserve so much more and I don’t want this experience to make you jaded or anything. I wish for you to remember all the good times we’ve had and all of the happiness we created. Never forget me, I will be with you always.”

The voicemail always lifted his spirits a bit each time he listened to it. Having been a technology geek, he had recorded it onto his computer through VOIP and backed it up to his email accounts and servers. He didn’t have a need for a cellphone any more as she was pretty much the only person who called him. He had a few friends that he talked to occasionally but the conversations became less involved and less exciting over the years. Akrest was shocked that any of them even bothered to try and talk to him. He had chosen Agate over them and left plenty of bad blood between them.

The funeral and the wake was densely populated with various friends and family of the deceased and widow. Akrest recognized his mother and his sister amongst the solemn people. The service paid great respects to her and what she had accomplished in life. Being a straight “A” student and valedictorian of her class, opening her own flower shop in the middle of the city, and her various accomplishments over the years were spoken. Akrest hardly knew much about her family, let alone her friends, and he didn’t care too. He wasn’t a people person and that became very apparent when he spoke her eulogy.

Comprised of copying and pasting various bits and pieces from an internet search for famous eulogies, the speech was inconsistent and had no effect on the grievers. Stopping midway through the speech, it finally hit him that she was really dead. His whole train of thought was derailed instantly and he burst in tears. He angrily threw the podium over, the speakers emitting a sharp ear-piercing sound of microphone to speaker feedback. He kicked at the podium on the stage and proceeded to look at the crowd, his face red and a steady stream of tears trickled down his cheeks and dropped from his jawbone to the stage floor.

“What the fuck do you people want from me?” he belted out, “Would you stop looking at me, just stop!”

It was apparent that he was in a frenzy, his speech became less and less coherent as he scolded everyone. His anxiety accrued faster than a rocket launching from a rocket launcher at an unlucky foe. His chest was noticeably pulsating up and down as he tried to breathe and as soon as the outburst occurred, he was unconscious on the ground in a second later. The shocked crowd looked at each other in awe and Akrest’s mother ran up to his shaking body.

∞∞∞

[Akrest]

I remembered being at the funeral in front of all these strangers. Their glances intercepted all of my thoughts as I stumbled through the eulogy I was reading. This speech wasn’t mine; I had hurriedly pasted together a horrible mash up of various famous eulogies and speeches. One of my greatest fears was public speaking, and the fact that I was speaking to a lot of friends and family of hers and mine that wanted me dead only increased the fear. Then something took hold of me, it was almost like someone thrust a searing hot fireplace poker into the base of my sweating spine.

Intense hatred I had never experienced having frothed out of my mouth like thick, black, and bubbling tar.

“What the fuck do you people want from me?” I screamed, “Would you stop looking at me, just stop!”

I had no idea where it came from and after destroying the podium I hit the floor and woke in a completely different world stark naked. I was lying in a field of beautiful chrysanthemums, dandelions, and lilies. White light filled my vision as I saw my wife come towards me from the skies, it was a spectacular sight. I could’ve sworn I saw white feathered wings behind her shining figure as she floated to me like an angel from above. As soon as we embraced, she let out a soft moan as I entered her. It had never felt so natural and so good as it did in this dreamy world of bright flowers and blue skies.

I laid my face in between her soft breasts and smelled the familiar scent of her sugary perfume. Gently kissing her cleavage and suckling on her tender, rose-colored nipples I felt her tighten around my penis. She began to tremble and shifted her weight back as held the back of her neck and entered her entirely. This all felt strange and erotic at the same time, I knew it couldn’t be real but I didn’t care. I needed this more now than ever before. I couldn’t get enough of her and she expressed it as well.

In the aftermath of the intercourse, my mind switched back on and I began to wonder just what my sub-conscious was telling me. I was never that sexual, never really had any desire to procreate or get off. Was I just scratching the surface on who I really am? We caught our breath as we lay side-by-side and trembled together. I didn’t want this feeling to end, I didn’t want to wake up. I couldn’t face the world without her, my current reclusive behavior more affirmation to the notion.

“Agate?” I whispered to her.

“Don’t question this, just enjoy the moment.” She spoke with warm sun-kissed words.

I always thought of summer when I heard her nostalgic voice, my prepubescent days of adventure in the backyard. The iced tea after an exhausting day of playing with friends, the sunburns that kept me awake at night. I missed those short-lived days before all of the bullshit and abuse. Come to think of it, I don’t know if I ever experienced as much intense happiness throughout my life as I did then.

I turned to look at Agate and my eyelids closed before I could speak again. I was out cold.

Written by Baz
5th Jan 2010

Written by Baz
Dec 15th 2009

Fullscreen

Completely Redrawn from scratch. Used Black Charcoal as well as White Charcoal this time. Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse in the music video “The Whale Song.” My new fav for sure!