Chapter 5

  It had been about 20 minutes since we left that hospital. Isobel was smoking out the car window. The cigarette box she held in her other hand had a strange symbol scrawled onto it in black ink.

  “What does that symbol mean?” I asked.

  “I saw it in a dream. It was sewn into one of their wallets. I drew it onto this box first thing after waking up.”

  “Who do you mean when you say ‘their?’”

  “The people who are with Blank. Fucking freaks, all of them.”

  Although I admittedly was not familiar with any of Blank’s companions, I could not help but agree. To me, he was the personification of badness, a total destructive force. Nothing is worse. Anyone who might call him a friend is not somebody I would trust. I was interested in the symbol. Is it a logo? Are they a group? It didn't really matter. Clearly, these were bad people who deserved consequences. As I was pondering this, a tiny black bug crawled up onto my steering wheel. Not even registering its presence, I crushed it with my thumb. Isobel yelped loudly as it happened.

  “What’s wrong, Isobel?”

  “What do you mean what's wrong?! You killed him!”

  “What? Who did I kill?”

  “That bug on your wheel! He was there, and then you crushed him! You killed him!”

  “I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to! It was only an insect, please, calm down!”

  Isobel firmly put her hand on my shoulder.

  “Life is something that you aren't allowed to take away. That's what makes you a bad person. Please don't be bad.”

  “Okay, I won't do that again. But I think you need to understand that it was only a bug. I don’t think it’s as serious. They don’t matter as much.”

  “Everything that lives alongside us is beautiful. You have to see that, it's always there. It's not your call. Some things aren't as pretty as others and that's okay. No killing.”

  “Okay, okay, no killing.”

  I started to think about this. I imagined being a small bug, helpless and ugly. I'd hate to be a small bug. I’d continue to think about this for a while. Lost in thought, I failed to notice a deer attempting to cross the road, shuffling awkwardly in the middle of the pavement in the most annoyingly pitiful way possible. I swerved away from it at the last second and thankfully managed to stop my car before hitting any trees. Isobel urgently opened her door to check on the deer, being careful not to make too much noise. I rolled down the window and watched worriedly from inside the car, not wanting to alarm it myself. Isobel looked over her shoulder at me.

  “It’s missing a part of its antler!” she yelled in a loud whisper.

  Indeed it was. In the immediate vicinity, the missing piece was nowhere to be found. The deer seemed to be searching for it too, turning its head in every direction. A few seconds later, it ran back into the woods. Isobel started to chase it for a second before the futility set in. She sighed and walked back to get into the car, stopping when she noticed something about my tire.

  “Uh, Lewis? I think your wheel died.”

  I got out of the car and looked at the tire she was pointing at and sure enough, it was flat. Under it was the missing piece of the deer's antler. I wanted to scream at this, but I felt that if I did, Isobel might run into the woods just like that deer. I pulled out my phone and thought really hard about there being an auto repair store close by in the hopes that that would make it true. Fortunately, after consulting with Google, I discovered that the closest place to get a new tire was about a quarter of a mile away. This was fine. However, Isobel and I would have to push the car all the way there, because I don't have tow truck money.

  “We can get a new tire not too far from here. But we have to push my car there.”

  “God damn it… Okay. It's fine. It's fine.”

  We both rolled up our sleeves and started pushing the car. Isobel did most of the work with how tall she was. I pushed too, though. I never realized how awful it is to push a heavy object. This must be what Sisyphus feels like. I decided to start a conversation to avoid boredom.

  “So, what do you think his house is like?”

  “Oh, I know plenty about his house. I’ve done my research. Still, I don’t know what I’ll do when we get there.”

  “It’s pretty simple. All we have to do is beat the shit out of him.”

  “Yeah, but that’s easier said than done. He has connections. Too many connections.”

  “Well, that’s news to me. What is he gonna do, call for reinforcements?”

  “No, no. I don’t know. There’s still something that feels wrong about it. Even though he’s so, so, so terrible, he’s still a human.”

  “To me, he hardly fits the definition. He's more like… I don’t know. Just evil.”

  “I thought you’d know more about him than you seem to know.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I… shouldn’t tell you. Maybe later.”

  “Uh, okay.”

  After about 10 minutes, we made it to a small set of buildings, one of them being the auto repair store we were looking for. We sat down for a minute on a nearby bench. Isobel pulled out an ancient-looking flip phone from her pocket. As she opened it, I noticed that the screen was cracked, making it almost unreadable. She looked down at it with a smile on her face.

  “Hi Edith! Sorry I haven't talked to you all day, I've been really busy.”

  “...”

  “I’m feeling a little weird today. Lots of things are happening. Lots of people. How about you?”

  “...”

  “That's good to hear. I'm about to go into a place with a bunch of people I don't know. What should I do?”

  “...”

  “Well, obviously I'm going to be very careful, but I was thinking more like how should I act so as to not come off as a weirdo?”

  “...”

  “You're right, I don't have to do much. I guess you've noticed my new friend, then. I like him, he's nice.”

  “...”

  “I’m glad you trust him too. Listen, I look like shit right now, and before being in plain sight of some people I don’t know, I'd like to not look like shit. What are you thinking?”

  “...”

  “Oh yeah, I probably do still have that. Thanks for reminding me.”

  “...”

  “Sorry I keep forgetting about that. I promise I'll fix you up soon.”

  “...”

  “You’re too kind to me. Well, I should probably be going. Talk to you later, honey. Bye bye!”

  “...”

  Gently, she closed the flip phone and placed it back in her pocket. It was one of the higher up ones, not very close to the ground.

  “Who were you talking to on the phone?”

  “Her name is Edith. I take her everywhere I go. She had a bad injury lately.”

  “Sorry about that. You and her seem to have a good relationship.”

  “She's the best.”

  Suddenly remembering whatever Edith reminded her about, Isobel reached into one of her pockets (I swear there's more every time I look) and took out a black lipstick. Without even looking at herself, she put it on with relative ease.

  “Do I look okay?”

  “You look great, Isobel. The lipstick is nice… Is it weird to wonder how it would look on me?”

  “Um… no! Not at all! I could put some on you if you’d wanna try it!”

  Isobel put one hand on my leg and leaned over so that her face was very close to mine. Her gray eyes surveyed my lips almost robotically, scanning back and forth. Her breath smelled like vanilla.

  “I- um, it’s- I- what- I think I’m good for now! Thanks!”

  I scooted a comfortable distance away from Isobel as politely as I could. I didn’t push her hand off my leg.

  “Oh, sorry… Guess we should go in. I’ll let you talk. Hopefully you know about tires and stuff.”

  We walked in and were immediately greeted by the overbearing stench of oil and gasoline. A small radio at the front of the store played classical music. I felt my thoughts drifting backwards, but I brought myself back to the present moment. The walls were covered in various vehicle parts, including tires. Looking at them, I realized that they were all different shapes and sizes, and that I had no clue which one I needed. I did not, in fact, know about tires and stuff. I would have to ask the guy at the front about this. I strolled over to him and put my arms on the counter, avoiding the scattered stacks of paperwork strewn across it. Isobel was pretending to look at tires to avoid having to follow me.

  “Hey. What can I do for you?”

  “Uh, yeah, I need a new tire for my car, because there was a deer in the road and its antler fell off and punctured my old tire so it doesn’t work anymore.”

  The clerk looked at me like I had just told him something very confusing, which, to be fair, I did, but I still did not appreciate his demeanor. He looked around a little bit before leaning in closer.

  “Okay… What kind of car do you have?”

  “I, uh, don’t really know exactly, it’s some Honda car from like 2003, my mom used to drive it. It’s blue, if that changes anything.”

  He sighed before looking out the window and spotting my car on the side of the road. He surveyed it for a second before turning back to me, still looking disappointed in my lack of vehicular knowledge.

  “Looks to me like a Honda Civic. And it's a 2004, not 2003.”

  The number 2004 was not a good number, and by extension not a good year. I lamented that my car was of this year.

  “We probably have something in the back that'll fit that thing. Let me check.”

  The clerk turned around and began to open a door that I had only just now noticed. Or, at least he thought that he would be opening the door, because it was actually locked. He mumbled angrily and pulled out a key from his pocket before hastily jamming it into the doorknob, allowing the door to be opened. He quickly shuffled in and closed the door behind him, almost slamming it but catching himself at the last second. Movement and aggravated speech could be heard from beyond the threshold. Isobel had begun sitting on the floor with her legs crossed, having previously inched closer to me while I was distracted. She grinned awkwardly when I looked down at her. After about 5 minutes, I heard the door open again. I turned around and saw a different person walk out. He was a little bigger than the other guy was, and he had no hair except for the goatee hiding his chin. His glasses sat firmly on his nose, complimenting his dull expression. I wondered for a second if this was actually the same guy as before, having undergone some kind of drastic metamorphosis in that room. About a second later, I remembered that things like that are not possible, and stopped wondering. I avoided eye contact with this new man. His eyes were sharp with annoyance, all pointed towards me. He lifted up his arms, causing me to flinch, and succinctly dropped a tire on the counter.

  “This’ll work. Need any help putting it on?”

  “Prob-”

  Um, actually, I, uh. Know how to do. That.” Isobel looked like she could crumble at any second just from the exertion required to speak. “Do you have tools in your car, Lewis?” she asked, looking up at me and talking much less carefully.

  “Uh, I think so.”

  “Who is that?” inquired the man behind the counter. I had known this man for less than two minutes, but I had already grown to hate him.

  “She’s my friend. Don’t worry about things that don’t affect you.”

  I paid for the tire and quickly walked out of the store with Isobel before the man was able to think of more irritating bullshit to say. Instinctively, I extended my hand out to Isobel’s general position, not expecting her to actually take hold of it. It was a tight grip. She made an odd sound as we exited the building, sort of like the squeak of a small animal.

  “Why did you make a noise?”

  “I’m just excited! It’s been so long since I’ve had a new human friend, especially one that I can actually look at and touch… Sorry, I sound like a weirdo.”

  “No, no, I understand.”

  I couldn’t think of the last time I had made a new friend, either. Surely my coworkers with their vapid “interests” and annoying quirks didn’t count. In fact, that was the first time I had thought of my job all day. I was very thankful that it was a Saturday, because if I had gone on this adventure during the work week, my boss would surely not be very accommodating. I actually kind of hated him and wished that he would die. He liked to yell at people far too much for my liking, and in general his impact on the workplace was not positive. My boss, however, was not the person at work who I hated the most. That honor, or dishonor, was bestowed upon a man, or ghoul, by the name of Kevin. I cannot stand to see that self-obsessed, hatred-filled, arrogant fuck. Every time I see that douchebag hit his vape without even having the decency to walk out the door about two feet from where he stands, I have visions of inverting the concavity of his face with my fist, and I wouldn’t say I’m a very violent person. His mere presence serves only to stain the already miserably low mood of the workplace, and I’m sure that all of my coworkers would agree. He used to call me a faggot all the time because I’d put my hair into a ponytail, but my boss eventually told him off for that, in a rare showcase of humanity from him. I hated work.

  At this point, Isobel had presumably noticed me staring off into some distant void of thought, and started working on replacing the tire. Thankfully, my mother had kept the tools that came with the car in the trunk, and I had never bothered to take them out of there, simply pushing them to the back to fit the various items I stored in there. I saw Isobel pull out a cardboard box full of packing peanuts and place it on the ground. Who knows where that came from (besides from me, if I thought about it enough). Apparently, I was missing something, because she looked around for a second confusedly.

  “What’s wrong?”

   “You’re missing the wheel wedges. Y’know, the things that keep your car from rolling away.”

  I thought about what we could possibly do. We could go back into the store and make another purchase, but I thought if I saw the face of that man behind the counter again, I might’ve just lost it. We would have to use something else as a substitute. I walked around the side of the store, looking for anything durable that could fit under there. There were two dumpsters on the side that were filled with scraps of metal and car parts that were presumably dysfunctional. Near the back, there was a stray line of construction tape on the ground and a sizable pile of bricks nearby. Perfect. I took two bricks over to my car and placed them on each side of the flat tire. Isobel gave me a thumbs-up to indicate that this was in fact the correct thing to do, and I sat back down to wait for her to finish. She grabbed the metallic X-looking thing and began to use it on the wheel in ways that I did not fully understand, which made me mildly uncomfortable. I decided to go take a look at the other buildings nearby. One that particularly caught my eye was an old electronics store. I had already seen one of these today, but this one seemed to actually still be in service. It sported the name “ANDY’S PC PALACE” in all caps on a banner plastered above its main entrance. The idea of a palace dedicated to computer technology intrigued me, and so I entered the building.

  The overhead speakers were playing some old techno song from Germany or Russia probably composed by a guy who died from unnatural causes. The building had a smell which was exactly what you would expect from a small tech store about 10 years out of date, except with a slight tinge of cigarette smoke. Not too surprising, considering the widespread usage of such devices. To me, cigarettes were kind of gross, but I didn’t care too much. Not enough to stop myself from admiring Isobel when I saw her smoke one. I wondered how she was doing with the tire. I could never be able to do something like that. Too many steps to remember. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice called out to me.

  “Good evenin’. Need anything?”

  “Uh, no, thanks. I presume you are Andy?”

  “Nah. I never met the guy. I’m not even sure he’s a real person.”

  “Oh. Well, sorry.”

  The young man nodded and returned back to his little corner of the store. I didn’t dislike him; he seemed nice enough. I decided to explore a little bit. There were tons of CRT monitors and beige keyboards, and about a million different types of wires that I’d never know the purpose of. What really caught my eye was this little shelf with about 5 or 6 flip phones, looking pristine as ever. I was reminded of Edith, and I wondered if maybe Isobel could get her repaired here. I decided to go tell Isobel about it. As I walked back over to my car, Isobel was just finishing up work. Convenient timing. She barely looked tired putting the tools back into my trunk. The tire looked good as new, probably because the tire itself was, in fact, new.

  “It should be working now, Lewis.”

  “Thank you so much! You’re pretty good at that. Hey, there’s this little electronics store right down the street, and they said they do repairs. You could get Edith fixed up.”

  “No, I can’t do that. I’d prefer to fix Edith myself. It’ll be fun. Still, I would very much like to check out that store.”

  With that, we walked together back to Andy’s, Isobel’s hands making a repetitive motion that suggested excitement. As soon as we entered, Isobel seemed to be filled with pure amazement. She looked in every direction and appeared as if she had to stop herself from crying out in glee.

  “Do you really like tech stuff that much?”

  “It’s different, Lewis. Every time I’m in a place like this, there’s a certain energy I can feel, one I am very familiar with. I can feel it in other places sometimes, but it’s always more magnified in these places. I guess she finds it easier to speak through massive outlets like this.”

  “She? You mean Edith?”

  “No, it’s somebody else. A much larger force, and one I’ve known a little longer. I guess you could say we all form a triangle.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure what Isobel was talking about, but she seemed extremely happy, so I was happy for her. She was practically shaking with joy. Trying to calm herself, she sat down on the floor near the CRT monitors, leaning against the wall.

  “Is she alright?” said the man working there, who was the only employee I had seen so far.

  “I think she’s doing pretty good.” He seemed extremely confused, but not really upset about it.

  Isobel sat there with her eyes closed for about twenty minutes, seemingly crossing her arms but upon closer inspection actually holding some intangible thing close to her. Eventually, she remembered our goal for the day and got back up, but not before quietly (yet clearly audibly) proclaiming “I love you,” presumably to the “energy” surrounding her. She walked out the door without saying a word. I followed suit, leaving the singular employee baffled.

  As we got in my car, I began to feel the effects of only eating breakfast (a subpar breakfast without milk, at that) before embarking on a drive peppered with viewings of a corpse and manual pushing of the car. That is to say, I was exhausted. As I yawned loudly, Isobel noticed this exhaustion.

  “Hey, if you’re tired, I can drive. Only if that’s okay with you, of course.”

  “Yeah, I’m tired. I guess it would be better to have you drive. Just don’t touch the temperature dial, okay?”

  “Hehe, okay.”

  I did not know she could laugh. It was a small laugh, the kind that a shy person lets out only when necessary, yet it warmed my heart. I don’t know exactly what it was that made me trust Isobel so much. I even let her, almost a stranger, drive my car, which I don’t usually allow even to people I’m close to. Whatever it was, I drifted to sleep in the passenger seat hoping that our experiences that day would blossom into a long-lasting friendship.