Stephen Zimmer - Crown of Vengeance

“I will, I promise,” Erika remarked with a light grin, holding her hands up so that he could see that her fingers were not crossed.

“So do you know a way for me to escape somewhere, like in some movies and books?” he asked her, smiling. “Do you know of a time machine we can get a hold of? I always like the stories about going into other worlds.”

“I wish I did know a way we could get one, because I’d use it myself. Believe it or not, I’ve been in a kind of a rut lately, and could use a decent adventure,” she replied. “Every day is getting to be the same old, same old, if you know what I mean.”

Mershad chuckled. “I know what you mean. Even without this war, I would have to say things are getting monotonous.”

Her eyes then looked past him, drawing his attention with her gaze as she said, “Now that is a little unusual.”

Mershad noticed some wisps of vapor that were drifting across the tops of the grass. Some other tendrils were pouring over the lip of the street level just behind them, and cascading down into the grassy area where the mists had begun to pool.

“That is odd…” Mershad concurred. “I can’t say I’ve watched it come in like that before.”

“Guess we are in for a foggy night,” she replied, shrugging and grinning amiably again. “Well, it’s not a problem, is it? Mere fog isn’t going to chase us out of here. So tell me a little more about yourself, I insist. We’ve talked so much in class, but I haven’t had much time just to ask you about you.”

“I guess you’ve asked for it, then,” he replied, smiling. “Well, here begins your big Saturday night adventure. I guess I’ll give you an overview at the beginning.”

“I’ve always found it best to start on the first page,” Erika retorted.

He started into the story of his parents, and his upbringing, as the fog began to accumulate among the trees and grow steadily thicker. It looked almost magical, illumined as it was by the silvery light of the full moon, and creating an effect of being in a different world; even if it was a very small one, with space for just two friends to talk.

The way things had been going, Mershad did not mind that at all.

Though it was an entirely new evening, a Saturday night that offered little chance of interruptions from nitpicking clients, Logan found himself more tense than he had been on the previous one.

His physical state was no better. His eyes were about to cross, following yet another marathon of monitor screens and tediously detailed adjustments.

Leaning back in his chair, he moaned at his stiffened lower back, and rubbed at his eyes. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was almost midnight.

“Any second now,” Logan muttered prophetically.

A few moments later, he heard the distinctive sound of Antonio’s car engine as his friend pulled up outside and parked in front of Logan’s house.

The engine was shut off a moment later, followed by the sounds of the car door opening and closing. Logan listened to the thuds of the last few of Antonio’s footsteps, as he neared the front door and knocked upon it.

“What’s up, Antonio?” Logan greeted as he opened the door.

“No different than yesterday, personally, I mean,” Antonio said grimly. He continued with his griping before Logan had a chance to respond. “Here I am on a Saturday night now, and guess what? It is still no different, treated like garbage, broke, the usual. Is anything ever going to happen to give us some hope of change. It is making me near crazy. But I did bring some food with me tonight.”

He grinned as he held forth a small bag, loaded down with an assortment of burritos and soft tacos.

“Good thinking, Antonio, very good thinking… You timed it well, I think that will hit the spot right about now,” Logan commented, recognizing the familiar bag.

Reaching into the bag, he retrieved one of the soft tacos and unwrapped it. As he took a bite, he was quietly appreciative that Antonio had remembered that Logan liked the deluxe kind with sour cream.

“I think that it will too,” Antonio responded, retrieving one of the burritos out for himself. “I forgot completely about lunch today. You know, pizza is about the last thing that I want to see or smell at the end of a workday. I didn’t even realize I hadn’t eaten today, until about ten minutes before I left work.”

“Well, let’s take care of this bag in its entirety. I’ll get a few soft drinks out for my part of it, and we’ll take a collective break from all of our headaches.” Logan remarked between bites, finding out that he had incurred a substantial hunger since his late afternoon visit to Lee’s Wok for yet another plate of pork-fried rice and a tall glass of ginger-ale.

After saving his files, and shutting down his main system, Logan returned to his living room where he and Antonio relaxed and finished off the rest of their meal.

Picking up a remote control, and sinking back into the lone couch, Antonio surfed through a good number of satellite channels. Images from reality shows, movies, and war coverage filled the screen, changing with each click. He finally settled on a music video show, but it served as little more than a backdrop for their conversation.

“So, no luck today? No dates?” Logan asked Antonio.

Antonio chuckled. “Who? Me? You know better than to ask, Logan. The way it seems, the minute I get a date, the world will probably end. That’s about the extent of my luck right now.”

“The possibilities in this town are pretty dry, you know that, Antonio,” Logan said. “I wouldn’t want to date ninety percent of the women around here anyway. It’s one thing or another… control… money

… looks… Whether you fit the proper image. Whether you attend the correct church. Whether you don’t attend a church. And on and on. I could go on and on, but I won’t. It’s like you have to fulfill some kind of checklist with any of them. Just don’t worry about it… I know I’ve said it fourteen thousand times before. I say that we are just going to have to stick with things, and believe that something is going to break. And when we get the chance to turn the tables, we grab it. Something where we can set our own rules.”

“I hope that it’s sometime real soon,” Antonio remarked before adding, after a pause, “I really don’t need different rules overall, just a fair chance with the rules that there are.”

“I’ll take new rules if I can get them,” Logan replied tersely. “The ones that are in place in this world don’t offer much at all to most of us.”

“Hard to please you,” Antonio said, with a slight grin.

“Yeah, I guess I’m getting a little cynical, in my ripe old age of twenty-eight,” Logan retorted, his momentary tension relaxing a little.

“Then I’m probably a little naive and gullible at the ripe young age of twenty-seven,” Antonio countered, laughing.

“Maybe we both need to move more towards the center, they say balance is supposed to be best,” Logan commented.

“Maybe so,” Antonio agreed, leaning forward and popping open another can of soda. “So how’s work coming along today? Workload getting any better?”

“Nope. More work than I seem to have hours for. The pay hasn’t changed either. I just have to build up my credentials and reputation to get to where I can do a project that I choose to do for myself; One which will actually have a chance of getting out there into the public eye,” Logan answered, somewhat more ruefully.

He stared off with a wistful expression, thinking of just how ephemeral that goal was beginning to appear. He knew that he was in a great rut, if not a kind of trap, in that he had attained a level that would keep him afloat but not get him far enough to accomplish what he wanted.