After the Fall

Chapter 12

THE CAFE

After Aster decided that writing was the best use of my time, I threw myself into my writing with everything I had.

I sat at my desk for a minimum of ten hours per day, alternately typing or reading over what I had written.

On one afternoon, I noticed a stiffness in my back and had to stand up and stretch before continuing with my work.

Aster perched on the arm of the sofa behind me in a dramatic burgundy suit that looked like a costume for a theatrical production. He stiffened when I rose. Don’t stop. You only just started.

Aster had grown increasingly irritable since I found him in the lighthouse tower.

He insisted he could handle his own problems whenever I asked him directly how he felt.

When I approached the topic of his insecurities from a more indirect stance he admitted more or less that I had made him to be too real—that he was a person now more than a mythical idea and that he worried that his more flesh-born, human self would never reach the fulfillment of his over-grand desires.

A slight goatee had formed on his chin. The style appeared intentional, but I had no idea if he made his facial hair grow that way through his muse magic or if he shaved it like any other man.

I’d asked for a muse… and I’d found a creature even more novel than that.

“I’m not quitting for the day,” I said. “I just need more circulation. Repetitive strain is a risk.”

Aster leapt from the sofa and pranced catlike to a space in front of me. I will tell you what the risks are, when there are risks. The great risk here is your succumbing to your own laziness, and both of us falling into the void because of it.

I stepped back. “What’s up with your attitude all of the sudden? Didn’t you want me to live life to the fullest?”

We don’t have time. It’s running out. I understand now what desperation drove you to call for me, Aster continued with no trace of levity.

You say you want to become great, but when we met, your brain was reaching into an empty space.

You didn’t even know what you wanted to become great for. Want alone is never enough, Stella.

His words made me shiver. I knew to brace myself for a round of rudeness from Aster now and again.

I knew his stress caught up with him at times.

Before a few days ago, he had never considered his own future, but now it weighed on him with an anxiety that matched his own grandeur.

Paranoia nibbled away at him. He wanted to know he could last, that his ambition alone could carry him through.

“Is this about yesterday?” I asked. “About your fear of being forgotten?”

It’s about this, Aster said, pointing to the growth on his chin. When it started coming in, I thought it was a fluke. My hair doesn’t grow. But apparently, it does. I’m changing. I’m aging.

“Don’t be dramatic. Hair growth doesn’t mean age, not necessarily.”

I’m not being dramatic.

“Well, I’m aging too, and I can tell you that nothing will happen overnight. There’s no reason to panic,” I said in an effort to comfort him. “We’re making good progress, besides. I’ve got five thousand words typed. Most people would be impressed with half that much.”

Most people, he repeated sullenly.

“You know, in your mood you won’t be able to do your best work,” I said, ignoring the mockery.

My mood?

I nodded. “What you need is a distraction.”

What sort of distraction do you have in mind? he asked idly.

“How about you go into town?” I suggested.

“Look for a restaurant for us to go to. We’ve already pledged to share our lives together, and you say you never want to leave me, but we haven’t so much as gone out on a first date, and I want that to change.

I’ll have another five thousand words finished by the time you get back. ”

Aster blinked and hesitated. I didn’t know if he was genuinely considering my suggestion or if I had only distracted him from his frustrated spell.

Then he walked around me and sat in my seat behind the desk.

I’ve got a better idea, he said. You go out and find a restaurant.

I think you could use the distraction more than I could.

I’ll read what you’ve written so far and save you time editing later by telling you what the flaws are.

Later we can get another five thousand words out easily.

After the past couple weeks of passionate lovemaking and swimming, I wasn’t used to Aster’s being this obsessed with my writing.

His enthusiasm might have come from a fear of mortality, but it excited me.

He looked like he had an idea—like he could see the goals in our reach, things that would make the book sensational instead of mere entertainment stops for people with nothing better to do.

I agreed to the plan and hurried out the door, barely remembering to bring my purse along with me as I ran through a string of minor errands around town.

This corner of Maine had surprisingly little in terms of shopping and restaurants.

Most people went to Mount Desert Island when they wanted to vacation.

Illumination Point had only a few small diners and bars and one or two more expensive places further out of reach.

In the end, I settled on a cafe, the only one I could find that would be open late enough for us to sample the pastries and grab a pair of hot drinks while sitting next to a tall glass window.

The venue embodied New England chic with stone and iron decor and a few French curlicues around the chandeliers and high stools.

I couldn’t see much of the menu from outside, but from the views I got from outside, I grew excited at the thought of driving back out here a few hours later.

When I returned to the house, I found Aster waiting for me right inside the front door. He looked impish this afternoon, like a child who had committed a piece of mischief in order to give me an unconventional gift. I wondered what brilliant changes he’d given my draft.

“I found someplace we could check out,” I said. “It’s called Red Sails Cafe. They don’t have a lot of food, but the atmosphere looked good from what I could see on the street.”

Aster appeared not to have heard me. Oh, this is very good, he said. I was wondering when you’d come back. I didn’t want to wait.

“Really?” I asked. “What did you do to the book? How far did you get? I want to take a look.”

Leaving the front door open a crack, Aster walked back around me to the living room. He pranced around as if struggling to contain his energy, and I figured his excitement must have come from the fact that I had left this place without him. Perhaps muses needed artists for their own stability.

Read? Oh, I didn’t read any of it, he said, and he loitered near a window while I walked to the desk.

My laptop’s lid was shut, and when I opened it I realized he had turned the device off. I pushed the power button and waited a few seconds for it to turn on.

Reading takes too much time, Aster continued. You know how it is. Word—word—another word. All stacked together like bricks making a printed black page on a white wall.

“I see,” I said, more confused than ever.

Do you? I don’t. Not anymore. He frowned and continued to pace. What’s the point to it, anyway? The task is impossible.

“The point?” I asked, confused. “I thought you wanted me to write. Before I left, you couldn’t talk about anything else.

” I scanned my documents for my draft in progress, but I didn’t see it.

My heart sped. I had tens of thousands of words on that draft by now in addition to the five thousand I had written earlier.

I knew Aster could at times be demanding and eccentric, but if he had hidden the file somewhere from me, I wanted to know why.

I turned around and tried not to panic as I searched his face for an answer.

If you’re mortal and I myself might be temporary, then we only have time for things that matter, said Aster. I don’t want to waste it on your project. That’s not what I really want. Or what you want, either.

I shook my head in bafflement.

All I ever wanted was you, said Aster. He looked down for a moment, and his expression turned grim. When you were gone, I felt like my brain wouldn’t stop spinning. I tried to read your book, but every time I got past the first few lines I had to stop.

“Aster,” I started, placing one hand over my heart.

Aster nodded. He took a single step forward and planted his hands on his hips.

I know. I insisted on the rules, and I can’t keep myself straight.

But there’s a reason for that. The truth is, I never wanted your work.

I never wanted your writing. I wanted to be inside of you, to be you, to feel you against me and your breath giving life to my lungs.

Your book was taking you away from me. And we can’t have both.

By now I could almost hear my heart beating in my chest. I took my eyes from the screen and turned around. Aster stood breathless in his crimson jacket, hands clenched into fists, eyes gleaming with desire. He looked like a predator, and for the first time around him, I felt like prey.

“Aster, where is the book?”

He snickered as if dangling a present out of reach. Over the hills and far away. The lands where the children like to play.

“Aster, I’m being serious. Where is the draft? What did you do with it?”

He crossed his arms and looked to the side with a pout. Your writing is you. There’s no difference. Every word was one drop of your soul, poured out from your very spirit. The book is nothing, and it never was.

“Tell me what you did with my draft.” The command did not come easily from my lips, but my own writerly anxiety was growing by the second.

I deleted it.

The words and simple honesty behind them made me panic.

I’d been here at Illumination Point for over six weeks now, half of the time allotted me to accomplish something great.

Suddenly the time felt suffocating. If I had no draft, then what did I have?

Had I been reckless? Had coming here been an embarrassment, a waste of time?

I’d only won this residency by a stroke of luck. I couldn’t repeat it.

I turned back to the laptop and checked the trash. Perhaps Aster was not as good at technology as he thought. Maybe he figured that deleting the file on the surface level would be enough to banish it through my sight.

You won’t find it there. Or anywhere else.

“Aster, you couldn’t,” I said.

He held up his hand. Don’t look at me like that. We’re all going to die someday—isn’t that what they say? Now come on, I know of a field of flowers nearby we could escape to, just you and me.… Forget your writing. I’ll take care of you. You’ll live forever with me. You’ll have to.

Slowly I lifted my fingers from the keyboard and faced him with a horror I didn’t hide. “That was my project for the summer,” I said. “I came here to write that book. I was going to seek publication for that book. Someone was going to give me an award. This book was your entire job.”

Am I no more to you than a job? he asked.

My eyes stung with a promise of tears. “It’s why I summoned you,” I said. “It’s all I want to do. I’m sorry.”

Is there nothing I can do that will satisfy you? He sounded sad, but also angry. I pledged my existence to you, to helping you. We promised to stay together forever. We have a bond now, Stella, and I for one intend to honor it. If you don’t feel the same way, I... I don’t think I want to hear it.

I stood up and held my hands forward in an attempt to soothe him.

“Of course I do,” I said. “You’re a living person.

You’re much more important to me than a stupid book.

I just thought we could work on that job.

I know you don’t care for the book… but it matters to me, and this is the only time I have to complete it. ”

Aster looked away in thought. He shook his head.

“Aster...” I started.

His face held the kind of look that could kill. Stella… I didn’t mean to do that. Not any of it. I only wanted to help you.... Do you know what I did?

“You tried to do what you thought was the right thing,” I said.

I ruined the very project I meant to inspire, he said. I’m terrible. I’m a beast. A curse. A—betrayal of what I was supposed to be for you.

I drew a breath.

Don’t! he hissed, stiffening and pulling away from me. Don’t comfort me or say it’s all right. This is a problem. I’ve gotten carried away. One look at you and I lose my mind. And if you tell me that’s all right, then... I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

Aster covered his face with his hands and walked away while I watched in silence.

I wondered if I should comfort him despite his words or leave him alone.

I had already forgiven him. For all he had done, he had shaped my views of writing, and I felt confident that anything he destroyed would come back stronger when I wrote it again. I could be flexible.

Then his shoulders relaxed. He lowered his hands. He was breathing heavily, forming a resolution in his mind that I braced myself to answer. Then he turned around.

I can’t work with you anymore.

I opened my mouth to argue, but a sigh escaped.

No, I can’t. I can’t think when I’m with you. It’s like there’s this other creature. This other person vying for control, and he takes over at the sight of your face, and I can’t help it. I need to go away.

“Where to?” I asked quietly. “Are you going to disappear like you came in? Can you do that?”

I don’t know. I don’t know what I am anymore. My abilities have all changed.

He sat on the couch. For the first time I could see the dark rings under his eyes. His growing humanity had scarred him already.

“Then stay here for now.”

No!

“Please,” I said. “We’ll stay out of each other’s way if you want. I’ll do my work, and you can look for somewhere else to go. But I won’t let you walk out of here alone. You don’t have anywhere else to go.”

And we won’t work together?

“Not if you don’t want to.” I stepped toward him. He flinched, but he didn’t get up and walk away. “You’re just stressed out with everything we’ve been doing. Let’s take it easy, okay?”

Yeah. Let’s take it easy.

I looked back at my laptop, and my heart filled with a blend of heaviness and frustration. Aster had warned me about this in the beginning. He didn’t want to get close to me. He didn’t want me to ask questions or learn more about him. If only I could have listened.