Chapter 6

The real-world returns to me, my love for the nameless city, inhaling the toxins I missed so much. The labyrinth of advertisements manipulating all subconscious thought.Do you really like what you buyThe plethora of women, nearly forty percent catch my perverted eye. The other sixty would actually love me. The boys in blue near the orange and white, controlling the construction. Both factions destroy walls. However, only one gets paid for it. The blank face of the man pushing the garbage can on wheels, brooms sticking out, me wondering 'why does he brush water, has he not seen the forecast'

The higher-ups next to the down-and-outs. If you look closely, they resemble each other, both showing just how much money they have. Or the blaring horns from the ambulances and police cars stuck in midday traffic in midtown. After the fifth honk sweeps into an abhorrent symphony of agitation, all of it begins to sound like 'War of the worlds'.

Aries was still connected to my arm, and we ventured to the park, escaping the metropolis jumble.

"…moms been gone. Dad got taken away soon after," I replied to her softly.

"Drugs"

"Ever heard of a 5150"

Aries, Don Fuego, and I watched the sun go down. Similar style kisses at sunset, shared within the dusk glade, soft, and alluring. The plan after was her place. With every footstep through the city, I pondered how well I knew her. I trusted her as a friend, but as a lover, I wasn't sure about either of us. If the illumination from the moonlight would meld us together again when the time was right. We reached our destination, which looked different to me with sober eyes. Only she drank in the park, I took a breather. The number of earrings, panties, makeup, scattered in the bedroom, 'Guide to Taxidermy' books, now in focus.

"Let's lay back in bed," she proposed.

"Eventually, I gotta get home. Change clothes and all."

"Take a shower here. Just stay a little bit longer, once you exit that door, this whole moment will be a memory. I…I feel like I said that before, but I'm serious. There's a good chance you'll never see me again."

"You have to come in on Monday, at least, to get your stuff."

"I aint going back. Let them deal with it, they fired me. Anything at that hellhole can stay there. So… what are you gonna do now, tell your brother what happened Call me late in the night, that type of thing," her tone became combative, the Tequila finally got her. She felt rejected.Damn you, Don Fuego!

"Aries, we're friends. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you wanna leave."

"To my house, I mean, you're bugging. I'm not going to kiss and tell, nor am I going to hurt you."

"So… you like me"

I hesitated.

"We always liked each other."

"That's not what I'm talking about, just fucking leave then. I'm keeping this bottle, I paid for it. Tell Helen I said to 'swallow a knife' since she loves putting things in her mouth. She didn't get that corner office from being smart."

"Calm down. Don't be stupid. I enjoyed last night, I want to do it again."

"Of course you would, I threw myself at you."

"Try to be there for a friend, and look what happens," I scoffed, marching my defeated self to the exit.

Before the door was slammed, before I cut my last string, I hurled a biting insult.

"Better start looking for a job today. Rent will come faster than you think, and then you'll be sleeping on that roof."

She ran behind me, but I never looked back to notice. Behind the door, behind the barrier between us, she whispered. Something inaudible, a declaration of the regret we both ignored when she granted me access to her sanctuary.

Our last two days were magic, and magicians come in many forms. To the untrained eye, the glitz and glamour distracting from the real illusion before you. The precise measurement, timing, sleight of hand, it's a dance of the mystical. Some are deemed possessed, not human, indulging in the devil's work. I enjoyed viewing it. People pull rabbits out of hats, do card tricks. My favorite was watching my brother roll a blunt with one hand while driving.

Speeding with a maniac sheds new light on seatbelts. When the V6 takes a certain stride over ninety miles an hour, the vision through the windshield begins shrinking into a watermelon shape. The heart and mind argue over fear and excitement. The three hundred horsepower pushing you snug into the seat. He dodged approaching vehicles by a hair's width, I couldn't even make out their faces as we advanced ahead. Blaring hip-hop at ignorant levels calmed me to the dragon snoring beneath the hood. I didn't want to think, I just wanted to see the magic. How he splits the cigar and balances the steering wheel at eighty, how it's sealed, and sparked while hitting a curve. When it was my turn to smoke, I shook my head.

"One day you're gonna die doing this," I warned.

"I hope it's right now," he stated.

I smoked to that.

"That way, I get to watch you laugh at my funeral from the other side, see who you really are." he continued.

"Who laughs at funerals"

"Niggas like you."

I indulged again, and it just shuffled more memories of Aries. Chest pain building up, and not from the weed.

"So what happened last night, got the same clothes on"

"Nothing," I replied. I was empty, not enough juice to concoct a convincing lie.

"I hope for your sake it wasn't a man. I mean, I hate you and all. But…you know. There's limits," he said as he snatched the blunt from me.

I brushed off the homophobic remark. I didn't care what he thought. My phone buzzed, but I didn't feel it. The highway now-turned-rollercoaster wasn't done with us. In a brief pause, he handed the blunt back to me after contributing to the hot box. When we reached city streets it felt like exhaling after being submerged in water. I felt safe again, on dry land.

My tomb came closer into focus. The three hundred and fifty square feet that contains my body when I slumber. Too shitty for a doorman, one would think. I inhaled more than weed smoke when he pulled off, letting his exhaust pipe release a pollution cloud. The fury of the engine surely woke up at least two neighbors, his mustang galloping downhill to future misadventures, deep into the black night.

I yawned like I was coming down from a magic mushroom trip, dragging my still ruined sneakers to the front door of the haunting apartment. Holding my work shoes in a plastic bag.

A man in a black suit, sporting a wide brim hat of the same color, halted me from my destination, offering a leaflet.Who's handing out shit at this hourI didn't bother to read it. He reeked of saltwater and crustaceans but was bone dry.

"What has a heart and no mind" he riddled.

Heavy voice in such a small frame, I was partly startled. The hat shrouded much of his face, and curiously I noticed his mustache seemed to move on its own.How can that be Maybe I'm just tired and high, it's past my bedtime.

"A scarecrow" I answered.

"So, your mind is still there, thank you."

I reluctantly took the pamphlet, flexed two fingers to symbolize 'go away,' instead of one that meant 'fuck off,' and walked into my complex. I didn't want to argue, I was too high to fight. While shuffling through my keys, my phone battery resting in the afterlife, I spotted something handwritten on the back of the brochure while it was clenched under my arm.

"40.758740 + -73.978674."

"The man in a black suit could be, was, and probably is, the human representation of God"