I A Quiet Death #3
“Everyone seems to have terrible problems. Miserable existence and all that,” Alexis Wright-Mitchell said.
Alexis Wright-Mitchell was pretty and well-presented. She wore a little black dress. Jalon turned and stared immediately at her when she walked up to them.
Memories of middle school haunted Alexis - everyone mean to everyone else. She hated that and remembered all the people who were mean to each other during that terrible time.
“If it isn’t the great one,” Jalon said.
“Come to talk to us peons.” “I prefer the normal people,” Alexis said.
“My older brother is a total geek. He’s best friends with Lance’s older brother Carson.
So we are here to show our support. The Wright-Mitchells are here to show that we loved Lance dearly and are sorry that this happened. ”
“He was murdered,” Jalon said.
“Maybe,” Alexis said. “Have you told the police your theory?”
“I don’t remember talking to the police,” Jalon said.
“You don’t know if you told the police?” Alexis asked. “That’s an important detail to remember. Jalon, honey, you need to keep everything together. The adults will lock you up. Pretend to know these things.”
“There are gaps in my memory,” Jalon said.
“Oh?” Alexis asked. “Lie. Don’t admit that to a room full of people.”
“It occurs to me that I don’t know what day it is.”
“It’s Sunday evening,” Alexis said. “I will see you in English class tomorrow morning—our favorite class. Right, Jalon?”
Jalon nodded. “We’re talking about The Scarlet Letter,” he said.
“I hated it,” Alexis said.
“What? Why? I thought it was excellent,” Jalon said.
“I hated it,” Alexis said.
“Wrong,” Jalon said.
“I kind of hated it?” she asked.
“Better,” Jalon said. “You liked it.”
“I didn’t know I liked it. Thanks for telling me what I like. What should I have gotten out of it? What I got out of it was that people slut-shamed a woman for cheating on a loser of a husband.”
“I liked it, and thought that it was about the very same thing. I just thought that it showed how bad it is that society slut-shames women for cheating on terrible boyfriends.”
“Husbands,” Alexis said.
“Oh, yes, I misspoke,” Jalon said. “Can I talk to you out back?”
“Of course,” Alexis said.
She walked out back with Jalon and smiled as they walked outside.
Jalon and Alexis stood on the deck behind the Pierce household. The deck was small, with a little old table for cookouts, hanging out, and drinking. She smiled.
“My boyfriend thinks you are just flirting with me.”
“He drinks too much and cheats on his homework,” Jalon said.
“He’s first in his class,” Alexis said. “He gets better grades than you do.”
“By cheating! He cheats at school and gets wasted regularly, and you don’t think that this guy might be cheating on you? Or at least might not be worthy of you?”
“What are you suggesting?” Alexis asked.
“That you stop by after everyone has left and get into the hot tub with me,” Jalon said. “You get to know me better.”
“No, stud,” she said. She kissed Jalon on the cheek. “I can’t cheat on my wonderful boyfriend with you. I’m a good girl. Understand?”
Jalon nodded. “I tried,” he said. “Very well. Let’s get back inside. Date your terrible boyfriend.”
“He loves me,” Alexis said.
“No,” Jalon said. “We are in high school. We have something, but it isn’t love.”
“Wrong! Totally wrong. This is one of the times when we feel love the most,” Alexis said.
“Why do you date Bailey?”
“Back to this again!” Alexis said. “He’s a great guy. Bailey is a wonderful young man.”
“He’s mean.”
“He’s forceful,” Alexis said. “He’s strong. He’s powerful. He has his opinions.”
“I’m going inside. Date whoever you want.”
“I always do,” Alexis said. “You have no control over who I date.”
“And I’ll pretend that everything’s okay,” Jalon said.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Alexis said.
“So? We’re sorry. We’re all sorry. That doesn’t fucking matter. I lost my best friend. I am not doing well. Life has kicked my ass. I need a drink. I don’t drink, but I could cheat on my not-drinking-ness with a whiskey, neat, right now.”
“On it,” Alexis said.
She walked away, and Macmillan walked over to Jalon.
“Hey,” Macmillan said.
“Rough life,” Jalon said.
“Yeah, I was surprised that you were willing to even talk to that Alexis chick, much less fall desperately in love with her.”
“Why?” Jalon asked. “She’s perfect.”
“Really?” Macmillan asked.
“Really,” Jalon said. “What am I missing here? What did I screw up?”
“Do you know who her father is? Who is her mother? They are old money,” Macmillan said.
“And?” Jalon asked.
Macmillan shrugged. “Just a different world, their lives are,” he said.
The wake continued for another hour - everyone said nice things about Lance and remembered that he was a wonderful person with thoughts, cares, and worries. Then everyone slowly left and went home, leaving Jalon alone with his parents.
A few people stayed for a little bit.
Beatrice Tritten returned to her family’s home and stood in the living room. Her father sat in his expensive, comfortable chair.
She grabbed some water from the kitchen. She took a glass, opened the freezer, and grabbed some ice because the ice machine never liked her. Then she poured water into the glass, added ice, and grabbed a nectarine. Then she sat down on the couch, collapsing after a long day.
“Hey, Dad,” Beatrice said.
“Hey, kiddo,” Mel Tritten said. “How are things?”
“Fine,” Beatrice said. Disastrous, but she couldn’t say that.
“Are they?” Mel asked.
“No,” Beatrice said. “Dad, things are bad. Someone died, and they say that it was suicide, but my friend doesn’t think so.”
“I’m sorry,” Mel said. “Maybe live through tomorrow. Each tomorrow. Keep it simple. Tonight, just watch television, be a family.”
“Who cares about the future?” Beatrice asked. “Why can’t we just daydream about being on a spaceship far from home, fighting an impossible AI enemy, and barely having enough to survive?”
“Exactly,” Mel said. “I agree, Beatrice. Why did we end up on a normal Earth?”
“A curse,” Beatrice said. “How’s Mom?”
“I don’t know,” Mel said. “She’s only had a couple of drinks. She’s upstairs talking to her friends.”
“That’s reasonable behavior,” Beatrice said.
“The hard liquor isn’t in the kitchen where it’s supposed to be,” Mel said.
“Damn,” Beatrice said. “I’ll have to wake her up for work tomorrow.” “She won’t want to wake up,” Mel said. “I’m sorry. I’ll do it. You don’t have to do that.”
“Thanks,” Beatrice said. “My boyfriend is checking in online. He is at a diner and didn’t invite me. I’m pissed.”
“That jerk,” Mel said. “He didn’t think to ask you. I am outraged. Our lives, outrages, disasters, troubles, miserable, all that.”
“All right,” Beatrice said. “Time to stay fit.”
She got onto the exercise bike, turned it on, reset the timer to zero, and began pedaling.
“That’s great,” Mel said. “You lost a ton of weight.”
“It’s actually kind of terrible,” Beatrice said. “Everyone wants me now. Everyone is super cool to me now, even people who didn’t like me before. It’s a surreal experience, being a hot goth girl.”
“I’m just happy you’re healthy and eating well and working out,” Mel said.
“Exercise is good for you,” Beatrice said. “The bike is good for me. I like it. I actually don’t mind the cardio. It actually feels good afterward.”
“Are you ashamed of me?” Mel asked. “Not really succeeding in business?”
“No," Beatrice said. “Continue to try to make a business that you are proud of. That’s a tremendous thing to try to do. Try to write, if that’s what you want to do. You don’t have to do a stupid nine-to-five for no reason on my account.”
“Thanks,” Mel said. “Mental illness is a terrible thing. I’m sorry if I’m not there for you.”
“You’re here for me always. Mom doesn’t understand,” Beatrice said. “That you have trouble figuring everything out.”
“Your mom has given us so much, and she just wants a drink or two, right? We have failings. She forgives them.”
“No, Dad, it’s fine,” Beatrice said. “I don’t care. I just want all of us to be well. I want you to be okay mentally. That’s all.”
She pushed through even as the bike became difficult. She increased the difficulty, did twenty-five minutes, and then relaxed.
“Great,” Mel said.
“One-third of the way there,” Beatrice said. “And the Galactica is in trouble.”
“I wonder if they will make it,” Mel said.
Beatrice waited thirty seconds or so and then restarted the workout.
She did twenty-five more minutes – starting a second episode.
Then she took another break. Sweat poured over her body.
“Getting good,” Beatrice said. “I will feel good about this tomorrow.”
“Yes,” Mel said. “I work out vicariously through you.”
“Ha,” Beatrice said.
She finished the full seventy-five-minute workout and then collapsed onto the couch. She forced herself to get up and refilled her water container.
After sitting down, she finished the cold water with the ice, watching her stories with her dad.
II: Persistence
Walter and Jalon sat just outside Jalon’s house. Almost everyone else had left except the two of them - the two people who knew Lance best.
Walter smiled. “He’d want us to roleplay, play board games, and have wonderful lives,” he said. “He loved us.”
Walter looked at his phone as they talked.
Walter looked up movie news - spoilers, news from the movie sets, premiere date changes, announcements of casting and shooting schedules, and any gossip from the sets.
He also looked up which actress was dating which person.
He loved looking up that stuff - it made him feel part of Hollywood.
It helped him to daydream about movies - to dream that he would be a part of the big business of making movies one day.
It was good for him to dream of that all day long - it made a mundane reality more tolerable.
Walter loved to dream - it helped him survive his high school existence.
“I know,” Jalon said. “I know, my friend. I know. He loved geek culture so much. Which is why I have to do something about his death. I can’t just let it happen or yell at people that he was murdered.”