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[[Formatting errors. Roll with it, please. Blogger doesn't like the taste of Microsoft Word's copy pasta.]]
The sky was a mix of blood and gold, boiling above the
simmering black of a silhouette setting on the horizon. Two opaque profiles of
still bodies broke the skyline as they stood abreast the southwest abandon of
civilization. When they were children, this border of the city, between wedges
of encroaching suburbia, was the end of the world. A decaying meadow and
unkempt wilderness, surrounded by the naïve hopes from local, reasonable
authority figures that innocent, pure children would stay out of trouble, expressed
by a pathetic chain-link fence with its thoroughly abused 'NO TRESPASSING'
sign.
Donald had
smiled at it when they came in- a mutilated square with chipped paint and
gratuitous graffiti. What he had decorated it with himself years ago
was faded but replaced by similarly minded youths who bore the torch of
harmless teenage rebellion and its accompanying petty anarchy. He,
unfortunately, had long since grown up, expanding his limits past states.
Countries. Oceans. Breaking into the little enclosure of worthless land offered
little beyond the meekest of cheap thrills now; still, childish
disobedience in this most-sacred place did garner precious nostalgia.
Valérie
had never been confined by geography.
For her, this boundary represented a cage on her blooming adolescence. A
cage only coincidentally forged at the time she and Donnie began sneaking into
places they weren’t supposed to go. As the sun sunk further and the shades of
twilight shimmered into deeper colors, she considered the luck of her cemented
friendship with him. He thought it was fate, but she knew it was a matter of
circumstance. That probably would’ve threatened him, but it only made her smile
deepen. The best things in life from blind, dumb luck.
For
them both, despite an age of physical and emotional maturity, this field
surprisingly left undeveloped by urbanization, still instigated the creeping,
giddy excitement of a world for recklessness and flagrant abuse of trust where
the law didn’t consistently supervise. That was reason enough to come back
here.
The
breeze filtered through Val’s hair, tossing the low hanging spikes like wind
chimes, tickling her neck. She took a
deep breath of the cooling air, then noticed Donnie mimicking her mockingly.
Unperturbed, she took another deep breath through the nose, and as she heard
him inhale, she breathed out through her mouth, listening to his echo, suddenly
trailed with a course burp. She nodded in approval. “Solid eight.”
“Eight?!”
he gasped with umbrage. “That was a ten! At least give me a nine!”
“You
pulled it off without any telegraphing. I didn’t expect it- I give you that,”
Val’s eyes remained closed, suspended in judgement. “But there was no volume.
No bumps,” she strained for the professional term.
“So
I don’t reverberate, and you don’t give me- You knock off a point?”
“You
gotta’ hit that vibrato, Donnie,” she grinned at him.
Donald
chuckled, “ ‘Vibrato’? Who am I? Andrea Borcelli?”
“Can
you imagine?” she snickered. “André, in the middle of an opera? ‘Con~ te~
Par~ti~BELCH.”
Donald
laughed, “Or Adele?”
“Why
you gotta’ hate on Adele, man?” Val gave him a knowing glance.
“I
love Adele, Val! You know that!”
“Okay-”
she turned her back on the sunset’s refuse leaving him with a consolatory
chortle and heading for the exit.
“No!
Seriously! ‘I set fire-’”
“Alright,
Donnie!”
“
‘To the rai-’”, Donald finished the note with a thick, resounding burp.
“Oh
God,” Val laughed as he chased after her, “Stop!”
“I
have to- Are there any other lyrics to that song?”
“
‘Watched it pour as I touched your face’.”
“That
doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t even rhyme.”
“Neither
does most music,” Val giggled. “Okay, you know where we’re going from here?”
“Kinda’.
I know my way from Jefferson. We’re going to the MacIntyre Building, right?”
“That’s
the rendezvous. We’re going to the new tower they built on Amsterdam.”
“They’re
still building downtown?” Donnie asked rhetorically. “And the whole group?
What’d Conner dream up this time?”
Val
considered while muttering absentmindedly, “If you would listen to Mal instead
of bitching, maybe she’d-"
"Gasp. Language." Donald stuck his tongue out at Val.
"Wait, I can take you to Powell, then it’s justa’ few
blocks till Jeffers.”
“Do
we have to split?” Donald sighed, as they hit official pavement, careening
towards an intersection of crosswalks and roads in actual use.
Valérie
was accustomed to Donald’s whining, expecting it, but something struck her as
odd. She felt actual sympathy. Something was wrong. Since when was something
wrong? Sure, Donnie could be moodie, but… “What’s wrong?”
Donald
paused. “It’s just a pain in the ass. I get it- It’s safer. But-” Donald caught
himself. “I can get myself to Reudreu.”
“
‘But’ what, Donnie?” Val pressed. Donald shook his head and Val stared a little
longer before wearily playing along with the dismissal. “Reudreu is farther,”
the warning a decibel lower as she recanted her gaze. “And I don’t think
security is a big deal this time, Don. I’ll just go with you, if you want.”
Donald
shook his head, “I’ll meet you at M. I. Center.” Then he took off, turning at
the intersection, hands in his pockets. Val sensed that she should follow him.
It tugged on her uncomfortably. She shook off the feeling by turning in the
opposite direction. He would be okay. Whatever that was about, Donald was the
blink tank. She couldn’t catch him if she tried. Fortunately, neither could anything
else- personal demons or otherwise.
She
could see her road would come to a dead end relatively soon, so she pushed the
idea of Donnie out of her mind, settling into a slower pace. She clasped her
hands together and lifted them high and backward, stretching out her chest. She
twisted her head around in strong, deliberate motions until she felt
satisfying, little pops along her neck. Before the euphoria could recede, her
arms folded back to her sides, her body following into a kneel- Then she
bolted, arms swinging momentum and legs cycling into a full sprint. She made a
sharp turn at a collapsing building’s alleyway. She had scouted out this course
a few days ago with Donnie. She licked her lips in anticipation, her breathing
racing faster.
With
a pounce into a unto a closed dumpster, she spun and wall climbed up the short
building to its roof. Along slowly swirling fans and oddly shaped metal boxes
she galloped up another short wall to the second floor’s roof. On the smaller
third tier, she slowed, veered right, then catapulted herself up to and over
its edge, leaping with all her might to the adjacent building. She fell into a
roll on its upper surface and recounted the next steps. Rooftops seldom lasted
long in the lowlands; preparation was key.
She
spent half an hour leaping down and up different walls and their stories, snuck
through a delivery trucking company’s enclosed interior, scaled a water tower
for no apparent reason, and slid past security cameras on more well-guarded
offices that were a marker for her of sorts. Cameras were a kind of building
self-esteem; if they were present, the edifice respected itself (and valued
what was inside). That meant she was reaching further into the city where
wealth and prominence were beginning to materialize. She was getting close to
Jefferson Street.
After another fifteen minutes, as
she glided along a faux bell tower atop a bank she connected it to Clark West
Credit Union. She was two blocks south… She prepared to drop herself over the
side when an intrusive voice struck her, [Cops. 3rd
and Clark.]
Goddamnit
Donnie!, she shrieked to herself. She halted and began to panic a glance
around her. The bank was on the corner of 3rd and Clark. Cops. Cops nearby… Shit.
[You’re
on 3rd and Clark,
aren’t you?]
Yes,
she grumbled, peeved at Donnie’s limitations. As she began to sneak a peek for
the police, she lauded a series of obscenities that she knew he couldn’t hear;
his telepathy was a one way street. Usually this was a hindrance, but with the amount of cussing seeping through her mind projected at him, it was probably a good thing in this case.
[You’ve
gotten so quick, Bela!]
Val
was taken aback by the compliment. She blushed and accepted the approval. She
had been working routes pretty hard core over the past year and she applauded
herself that it was showing so well, even Donald was giving her praise.
[Work
those thunder-thighs! You may even bring sexy back!]
“You
little prick,” Val sneered.
[Maybe
enough to flash some cops out of a ticket? You’ll need that. If they don’t
arrest you for R.W.B.]
“I
swear to God, when I get my hands on your anorexic ass, I’m going to rip you-”
She heard sirens. “Double shit!”
[I
don’t think they’re after you… If you can hear me, go south.] Val breathed a
sigh of relief. Not only was Donnie going to help her out of this, but he
wasn’t necessarily sure she was in range… Which meant that maybe she could
bluff her way out of the embarrasment. [I mean west, not south.]
She
stalled her confident stride to the south wall and cursed again, “Jesus, Donnie. You are the most useless- Argh!”
Following
his arbitrary instructions- with plenty of caution and a shortage of patience-
Valérie was able to lower herself onto surface streets far enough away as to be
sure no one would see her. Once safely on the sidewalk, and doing her best to
tune Donnie’s repeating words (he had no idea whether or not she was even at
the bank, let alone that she had received and used his advice), she stared in
the direction of the sirens. “… Your better judgement says not to go that way,” she told herself. Curiosity wasn't sure she believed her own voice.
[And
please don’t check out what’s going on, on 3rd
and Clark. Just be safe. Seriously. Again, if you’re at the bank, go west…]
“…
Donnie, I swear … for the umpieth time…” She rolled her eyes and began walking
towards the sirens. Something told her she’d find him in the center of that
mess.
“Bella!”
Val
snapped her attention to the voice across the street.
A
handsome boy waved at her emphatically then called out to her. “It’s not
Donnie!”, Conner subdued her. “Come over her.”
Val
looked both ways, then jaywalked her way over to him. “What is it?”
“Not
us,” Conner embraced her.
Val
spoke through the hug, “Unfortunate coincidence?”
“Were
you-”
“Yes.
You know I was. Why do you even ask, Conner?” she let him go, but kissed him on
the forehead, unwilling to cease her affections. "And, yes, I know Malaika doesn't approve of it. It gets me across town fast enough."
He
blushed, but didn’t retreat. “I’m glad, honestly. This is going to be more
difficult than we expected, so I'd prefer you loose and ready to hardkour it up.”
Valérie
sighed at hearing that. She never liked hearing bad news from Conner. Nothing
was worse, really, than hearing your oracle tell you bad things were coming.
“How difficult?”
“Gerome
and Nazrin are already with Don. Erik and Ricky are driving to Malaika.
Tristan-”
“I’m
not asking for where everyone is, Conner,” Val tried to be gentle with him.
“I
know, I know,” Conner waved her off. “This way,” he pointed back up 3rd
Street, away from the whirling blue and red lights that became ever more
present as dusk sunk in at last. “I just need your can-opening skills.
Everything is going to be fine, though. I promise.”
“
‘Fine’ fine, or ‘we’ll survive’ fine?” Val followed reluctantly.
“I’ll
owe Tristan another set of pants, but no one will get hurt. That kind of fine.”
Val
appraised that. “… Meh, sounds worth it.”
“Oh,
it always is. I've gotten him on a better diet. Speaking of which, are you working out? Looking good, good lookin'."
"Careful, or I just might keep you for myself," she winked at him. Yeah, everything will be fine after all.
[Val, seriously, hurry up and get your fat ass away from the credit union. Chop, chop. I'm getting tired of repeating this message. And make me a sandwich while you're at it.]
"Can I kill Donnie?" Val raged.
"No," Conner lamented, "we need him, too, sadly."
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