4431 words (17 minute read)

Chapter 7

By the time Jill walked into Anna's cube shortly after 5:30, Anna'd just finished incorporating her lunchtime experiences into her draft’s rewrite. They exited the building together, and found Jill’s car in the adjacent garage. It was a quick trip from there to Charles's faux suburban home. Jill pulled her car into the driveway shortly before six, and followed Anna to the doorstep. Jill surveyed the yard as they approached

"Ooo, and what's this?" Jill stopped before Robot Lincoln standing on the porch and tapped it on the chest. It looked down at her, reaching behind its back, and-

"Jill, you should probably stay away from-"

-handed her a single red rose.

"Awww. Look how sweet you are!" Jill took the flower and stood up on her tippie toes to plant a kiss on Robot Lincoln's metallic cheek.

Anna could've sworn it actually blushed momentarily before handing Jill a dozen more of the flowers in a single bunch.

"First he frees the slaves. Now he's a robot handing me roses on a porch." Jill looked at Anna. "Anyway, sorry. What were you saying? I got distracted by this cutie here." Thumbing to the robot behind her as she spoke.

In response, Robo-Lincoln smiled as shyly as its robot mouth would allow.

Anna knocked on the door. "Just be careful what you say around it. And watch out for The North."

Jill leveled Anna with a confused expression and a, "Hmm?"

Then, while Jill's back was turned, Robot Lincoln's eyes found Anna's and flashed red. The large hatchet found its way into the robotic ex-president's hand. Hiding the hatchet behind its back, Robo-Lincoln pressed its other index finger to its mechanical lips.

Anna shivered and said, "It's nothing."

A few moments later, the door swung open to Alex standing in all his servile glory. "Good evening ladies," he greeted with a bow. "You must be Ms. Dunkirk's friend.”

Jill nodded and said, “Jill.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jill. But please, do come inside. Dinner will be ready momentarily. Master Charles awaits you in his study."

Jill took everything in stride as they navigated the long series of halls to the entryway of Charles' mansion. Once they passed through the large doors into the entryway, she approached the edge of the pissing baby fountain situated at the center of the room, turning in a quick circle and taking the room in panorama.

"Not bad. Not bad at all,” said Jill.

"Madam,” Alex said, “you seem to take the peculiarities of this manor with much more grace and civility than did your friend, her first time here."

Anna whipped her head around. "What Jeeves here's trying to say is that-"

"You're kind of uptight, and have a big mouth? Or... Hmm. Nope. That's about all I've got right now."

"Ha ha Jill."

"Please. Ladies," Alex started for the spiral staircase to the right of the fountain, "Master Charles is waiting."

"Coolio." Jill followed his lead.

Sighing, Anna tagged along a few steps behind.

Jill said, "This is a really nice place though. Got a nice Victorian feel to it."

It didn't though. It was more like a mansion from one of those old movies where the lights go out during an isolating blizzard; and someone winds up dead; and it totally wasn't Alex's fault. Only instead of people getting murdered, there was jokes.

"You're absolutely right, madam. It was constructed in the late eighteen hundreds at the behest of General Stonewall Jackson." Alex turned right at the top of the stairs, making for a doorway at the edge of the entryway. "The study is just down this hall here." He pushed the ornate door open, holding it as the ladies passed through.

“Stonewall, huh?"

"Did I stutter Ms. Dunkirk? Now please, it's only a little further.”

Anna hadn't visited this particular wing of Casa de River Phoenix before. She took a quick visual sweep of the place. The hall went on maybe ten feet to their right, and capped off at a single decorative door. It continued significantly further in the other direction. Spaced out along both sides of the deeply red walls were several dozen paintings of the same young dark-haired man doing absurd things in otherwise inappropriate situations.

Front and center as they entered the hall was an oil painting of the young man, dressed in the manner of a stoic and consummate professional wearing a cool-colored luchador mask, reverse-suplexing a rampaging bull onto a large charcoal grill. All manner of festivities one might associate with a child's birthday party playing out in the brightly colored background. Cake, punch, balloons, a clown – which of course led to – ballon animals. One of those big inflatable bouncy houses dominated the left half of the painting. A young dark-haired boy was frozen panicking in mid-air in front of said bouncy house, no doubt the result of some reckless bouncing.

It was a pretty well done painting, all things considered.

Jill fell behind Alex and Anna, taking her time to inspect each and every painting along the walls. They walked roughly fifty feet before Alex stopped next to a large set of double doors on their righthand side.

“So who's the guy in all these paintings?” Jill asked, taking in the painting opposite the study door.

In this one, the young man was dressed in full polo gear while riding a horse in mid-leap after crashing through the large stained-glass window set into the back wall of a fancy church. During what appeared to be a wake, if the casket underneath the horse, and the horrified expressions of those in the crowd was any proper indication. Upon closer inspection, Anna noted the same dark-haired young man was also the one dead in the casket. Meta-weirdly enough, the corpse was holding a miniature replica of the entire painting in his cold dead arms.

"They're all self-portraits painted by Master Charles's unfortunately murdered elder brother," Alex answered matter-of-factly.

Jill locked both hands behind her back, peering closely at the casket in the painting. She turned saying, "I'm gonna be honest: not really sure how to respond to that."

“Fair enough. Now, through here then.” Alex pushed the study doors open to a room much longer than it was wide.

The walls on both sides were composed of nothing but shelves from floor to ceiling, lined with books, busts, and various other statues and figurines. At the far end of the room was a large fireplace Anna wanted to call a hearth. It was faced by four massive armchairs positioned in a semi-circle atop a large and loud plush throw rug. The chairs were wide enough that each one could’ve easily sat two averagely-assed individuals comfortably. Between each of the chairs sat small circular tables.

Anna found the lack of both stock ticker, and the rich but mellow aroma of a good Cavendish blend more than a little disappointing. Her pappy was a proficient piper, and she'd grown very fond of the aroma. The stock ticker was merely a stock prop her mind wanted to exist here.

“Charles, you in one of those big ass chairs?” Anna asked as she crossed the room.

Charles rose from the middle left chair, gazing back at the incoming pair with outstretched arms, a grin, and a stack of photographs in one hand.

“Anna! Jill! So good to see you! Now don't be shy, come in. Come on then! There's more than enough seating for all.”

Anna made straight for Charles, but once again Jill took a more leisurely pace to peruse the wall-shelves' contents.

“So what you got there?” Anna asked, pointing at the photos in his hand.

Charles held them up and blushed before handing them over. “Just some pictures from this afternoon.”

“No shit?” Anna grabbed the stack and began flipping through them. Sure enough, there were probably two dozen photos taken from the same downward angle of the island. “Who took these?”

“Charles, of course.” said Charles.

Though CHARLES would probably be a more accurate representation. It is an acronym after all. A real one, like NASA; not the fake sort, like YMCA.

“Given the angle, it looks like they were taken from somewhere on your helicopter?”

“Yep!” Charles bobbed his head excitedly.

“And what have we here?” Jill snuck up from behind and propped an elbow up on Anna's shoulder, swiping the stack of photos from her hand. “Hmm. These are good. Gimme a dozen of each!”

“DONE!”

Charles reached a hand into the inside pocket of his suit jacket, which he wore over a T-Shirt with what appeared to be a caricature of himself on it. The caricature was riding a raptor while hanging from the bottom of a rope ladder, suspended from an island floating in the sky over an ocean. He held a katana in one hand, and a small kitten in the other, just out of reach of the great white shark - with a laser-sight grafted to its head - leaping from the waves beneath. He withdrew a stack of photos roughly twelve times as tall as the initial stack and handed them to Jill.

Jill gave Anna a curious sort of look as she grabbed the photographs.

Well, that's one problem solved.

“So Charles, if you don't mind my asking, how exactly did you pull a stack of...” Jill thumbed through the photos, “Shoot. Two hundred something photographs from your pocket on a whim?”

“Well, Jill, it's a simple matter really. The pocket of this jacket is linked to a sort of closed pocket of time-space, wherein a nearly infinite amount of time can elapse in little to no perceived time having passed from outside it. Or vice-versa. I created it a few years back during my brief stint of interest in being a magician. CHARLES heard your request and had the photos printed in closed space. I retrieved them via this jacket pocket here.” He flapped his jacket out to reveal a single ordinary-enough looking pocket.

“Interesting.” Jill stroked her chin. “Most interesting indeed. And where can I acquire one of these closed spaces of my own?”

“Well Jill, unfortunately you cannot. I have the only one in existence. But here, watch this!” Charles reached back inside his jacket.

A second later several dozen doves flew out of each breast in all directions, cooing, screeching, flapping, and generally wrecking havoc upon the small enclosed space likely not designed with a few dozen free-range birds in mind.

“Hmm.” Charles sized up the situation. “Perhaps I didn't fully think that one through.”

“No f*cking duh,” Anna said, though her words were easily overpowered by Jill's laughter.

A dove swooped and passed a few inches from Anna's face before zooming back up. There was a crash a second later as a statue of a hamburger was knocked from one of the higher shelves and shattered against the hardwood floor.

"CHARLES!" shouted Charles. "Do something!"

The door to the room burst open and the fresh scent of pine filled the air. Where the hall had been mere moments ago, there was now a dazzling crystal pond, surrounded by an evergreen forest on one side, and a wide expanse of grass on the other. A section of ceiling nearest the door retracted and a long, thick, and segmented hose snaked out until its end poked through the door. A volley of seeds sprayed forth, peppering the landscape beyond. The hose then retracted and the ceiling closed behind it.

Almost as a single wave, the doves dove down and out to the inexplicable nature beyond. Just as the last straggler soared through, the door snapped closed by itself. It opened again a second later to the hall, where Alex now stood. The butler offered a slight bow.

"Dinner is ready.”

“That was nuts!” shouted Jill.

Charles hung his head and faced her. “I apologize for any inconvenience my thoughtlessness might've caused.”

Jill shook hers. “Not at all! Loved it.”

“Oh, well, good.” Charles addressed his butler. “Alex, if you'll make sure everything is in order for the meal, we'll meet you down in the Worcestershire Room in short order.”

“As you wish, sir.” Alex bowed again, closing the door behind him.

“Well, that was fun.” Anna said. “So what's for dinner?”

“You'll see. Now come along.”

Charles grinned as he made for the entrance. The ladies followed behind him.

Jill and Charles made lively conversation as they retraced their steps down the hall towards the dining room. Anna didn't join in. She'd been intending on telling Charles the truth tonight, but now that she was actually here...

Anna watched Charles's animated face as he regaled Jill with a story Anna had already heard several times before, a tightness growing in her chest. As they exited the hall into the entryway and stepped onto the spiral stair, Charles turned towards Anna.

"Anna? Are you doing alright?” he asked. “You look pale."

"What? Oh. Yeah. I'm totally fine."

Charles stared discerningly, before dropping the pretense with smile. "Well, if you need anything, anything at all, please feel free to let me know."

Anna was struck with a sudden desire for Charles to secretly be a complete asshole. Jill flashed an understanding look that was as infuriating as it was comforting.

"Thanks..." Anna half-mumbled as they reached the bottom of the stairs, making their way into the dining room.

Charles and Anna made straight for the table, though Jill took the opportunity to examine the mural of high art cross-overs running the length of the walls, periodically chuckling to herself.

"Anna!" Charles said with his usual gusto, "did you happen to see the news today?" He took his usual seat at the end of the table.

"Yeah," Anna said, taking her own. "And actually-" her words ended abruptly as nerves took over. She tried to recoup, but her chest wouldn't respond. Taking the next breath was a conscious effort.

"Anna, are you sure you're okay?" Charles looked concerned. "You really are acting rather unusual this evening."

"I..." couldn't seem to find the words. This was remedied a few seconds later as pain lit up her back. Jill had crept up from behind, greeting her with a heavy handed back-slap.

"Daughter of a bitch! That f*cking hurt."

"Oh quit it you big baby." Jill crossed around the table to take the chair opposite Anna. She faced Charles, asking, "So what's for dinner?"

Charles grinned like only he could. "Hot dogs!"

As if on cue, Alex entered from a door on the far left side of the room carrying a gleaming silver tray. He placed it on the table between them.

"Dinner is served." Alex bowed, then took his leave.

There were maybe a dozen hot dogs and ten buns stacked on the tray, along with various fix-ins. Anna noted the dogs themselves were evenly colored and devoid of char lines. She thought of something clever to say about that, but for some reason couldn't bring herself to care enough to find the energy to actually manifest saying it.

Jill leaned forward and stared at the hot dogs for a second before laughing.

With a look closer to confusion than anything else, Charles asked, "Is something funny?"

Still laughing, Jill shook her head. "No." Then, apparently realizing there was no way in hell she could sell that, she appended, "Yes. Yes there is. Them hot dogs is boiled son!"

Charles seemed unduly perplexed by this.

"It's funny cause, you know: you're rich." Jill explained.

"Your sense of humor seems to be just as peculiar as Anna's." Charles made a shy little look. "This is just how my mom used to make them for me when I was a kid..."

"Aww..." Jill cooed, serving herself up a dog piled with every available option.

Anna, on the other hand, did little more than bring dog and bun together. It tasted like a tolerable nothing, which was altogether better than how she felt.

"Did you guys happen to notice anything peculiar in the news today?" Charles bit into his dinner.

"Yeah," Anna said. “And you already asked that.”

Charles could contain his laughter no longer. “Funny, right? It's a floating island over the Great Barrier Reef!”

Jill was already moving onto her second hot dog. "Yeah... well, I mean, it's cool. Wouldn’t necessarily say it’s funny per se. But anyway, Anna was telling me how she accidentally dropped her phone in the Great Barrier Reef, and I was all SHUT UP! Look at this, and pulled up one o' them articles."

Charles fixed Anna with a face that was all shades apologetic. "Anna! You dropped your phone? Why didn't you tell me?" He reached into his pocket and produced a fat stack of bills. "How much will it cost to replace it? It's my fault we were there, after all."

Anna sighed, placing her once bitten dog on the plate. "No thank you," she said in a controlled tone.

"Hmm?" Charles cocked his head. "No thank you what?"

Jill looked sympathetic; Anna ignored her.

"I don't want you to buy me a new phone that's what. How was that anything but obvious?"

"Anna, are you certainly certain there's nothing wrong? You really are acting altogether unusual."

"No f*cking really? You're like the goddamn nicest human being alive. Dense, but nice. And here I am, a total f*cking bitch, and..." Anna groaned, scratching her head. "I'm sorry. Listen, Charles..." She swallowed, having to squeeze the words from her lips like the last bit of toothpaste from a tube, "I need to tell you something important. Can we go somewhere else for a second?"

"But what about dinner?"

"Heaven forbid the f*cking four dollar meal gets a little cold in the meantime... Goddammit.”

Anna sighed.

“Charles, I'm not trying to be a bitch, but if I don't get this out right now I'm probably gonna lose the balls to say it at all, so here goes," she took a slow and dramatically deep breath. "I lied to you. I'm not an editor. I'm a writer for that magazine, and the day I met you I was about to be fired because I didn't have any damned idea what I could possibly write about anymore and then I met you and you were so into telling your jokes and you weren't funny but I knew I could make it funny and it seemed too perfect to pass up and I was afraid you wouldn't let me write about you so I panicked and didn't ask your permission and just wrote about you anyway but then it turns out you're the single nicest f*cking person I've ever met and I feel like a complete bitch but I kept doing it because I was too much of a wuss to just tell you the truth, so here I am, doing that now, before I lose the nerve, goddamn-shit-balls mother-f*cking-jet-lag. I really don't even know what I'm saying anymore, but please don't hate me..."

Sometime during her confession, Anna had closed her eyes. Opening them was hard. Waking up hungover at five o'clock on a Monday morning after only three hours of sleep only to go into a job you hate hard. Anna was still facing Charles when she finally managed to pry them open.

Charles looked... lifeless. Almost hollow. There was anger there, but it was cold. Distant.

"Charles... I-"

"Get out." Charled spoke so softly Anna had to strain her ears just to make out the words.

Anna was desperate, panic bubbling to the surface. "Charles please. Can't we just talk about this-"

He turned his head away, speaking more forcefully for it. "Get. Out."

Anna stood. "Charles-"

"GET. OUT." He crossed arms in front of his chest, turning his back to her.

For a moment Anna could only stare with her jaw locked firmly at true neutral. She threw up a hand and stood with a half turn, saying, "Tch. Fine," and stormed off. She stopped halfway to the door, and without turning to face Charles, said, "I really am sorry, you know."

"Don't care. Get out." Anna'd never heard Charles sound so... inamicable.

“Fine,” Anna said. She finished crossing the room, pushed open the doors, crossed the entryway, and exited into the long hallway that'd get her the fudge outta there. She tried not to think and failed spectacularly. Somehow, Alex was already waiting for her at the front door. He opened the door with a bow that didn't even break his shoulders.

"The Bellesemer household will not soon forget you, Ms. Dunkirk."

"Yeah, yeah." Anna brushed past him and stepped outside, ignoring Robot Lincoln's silent threats to the best of her ability. She headed into the street, trying not to dwell on what just happened.

Well. That went well. Certainly not f*cked twelve ways to... a... hamburger today?

Yeah. She was in a weird place.

A few minutes of absently walking along the curb later, Anna heard the baritone thumping of Jill's standard-issue car stereo dropping some chunky beats as her sedan rolled up behind her. The window rolled down, and Jill, leaning over the passenger seat, stuck her head out to look Anna up and down lasciviously.

"So babe, how much?"

Anna hunched to peer in the window, returning the once-over with a vacant expression. "For you? Hmm. Maybe Three hundred fifty."

"Three-Three hun-three hundred- ugh. I'm either unwillin', or unable, to spend that much."

Anna got in the car anyway. They drove. Neither said anything. It wasn't awkward. But it wasn't no damn picnic either.

And, like a cheese sauce, things were smooth at first. Until that gross skin develops on top, and you don't wanna dip anything in it, but then you just say to hell with it and mix that shit up with like, a chip.

Jill jerked her arm not steering the vehicle towards Anna suddenly. “Damn gir', WE JUST GOTS TA FUCKIN' CRUUUISE!” The timing was such that Jill's shouting coincided with the exact moment the stoplight changed from red to green; she slammed on the gas; and the kind of smooth old-school rap song that makes you wish your car had way better rims started bumping through the stereo.

"Wha-" Anna shook her head. "Never mind. Can you drive me home?"

“Sure can. Quick question though: whatcha gonna do once you get there?" The surreptitiousness of the look Jill flashed Anna probably owed more to the whole trying to keep her eyes on the road thing, than it did to... surreptition itself?

"Just, you know... things..."

"Anna. Give it to me straight: are you intentionally answering vaguely so ya won't have to attempt lyin' ta me?"

"Maybe."

"Clever girl."

As Anna did not believe that was the case, she called Jill on her sarcasm while conveniently staring out the window opposite her.

"Why does it even matter? What? You want me to say I'm gonna go home, and be happy, and ride a goddamn rainbow straight into a golden f*ck-pot of positivity and enjoyable feelings? Because I'm not. I'm f*cked. I'm gonna go home, and deal with being f*cked the only way I know how to deal with being f*cked. Let it go, Jill."

"I just wanted ya to know that if you need to talk about anything, I'm here."

"And another thing. What's up with all this clichéd secretly-best-friends-all-along bullshit you been trying to pull recently? Before today, the idea of us being friends had never so much as crossed my mind."

"Anna, I've known you for a long time. Just face it: I'm the George to your Lennie."

Considered this,Anna said, “Sooo... should I take that as a threat on my life or something?”

Jill shook her head with a subtle smile. “Only to spare you an even worse fate, my dear. Only then shall I kill you.” She paused. “Okay. I'll admit that might've been a pretty terrible analogy, but it is what it is. I'm just saying that you might've gotten into this situation by being your usual dumbass self, but you don't have to be the only one trying to weasel a way out. You're still my friend, whether you think I'm yours or not."

Anna had but one thing to say to that. "My apartment's up here on your right. Building 4000. If you could drop me off and leave, that'd be great."

The first moment Jill's car came to a complete stop in front of her building, Anna threw the door open. She crawled out, and paused with a hand still on the door. Glancing over her shoulder, she said, "For what it's worth, and at the very least, I'm glad I didn't have to walk home." Then in a much softer voice, she added, “Thanks.”

Jill smiled. "Glad to be of service. That'll be ten dollars."

“Ha. Nice try." Anna slammed the door behind her.