24
“ W hat the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck ?!” Celeste hissed in rapid succession as Blake pulled to a screeching halt in front of the Aberley estate’s gate.
Blake threw open the door, took a half-step out of the car, and repeatedly smashed the ‘open’ button on the little keypad on the side of the driveway. Behind him, Celeste muttered: “Come on, come on, come on…”
With a groan of relief from the driver, the gate began to open and Blake all but charged for the main road, Celeste’s chants of “Go! Go! Go!” spurring him onwards.
Marin—still struggling with his seatbelt in the back—slammed against the passenger door as the car whipped out onto the street.
“ Shit !” Blake shouted, righting the car. “Sorry!”
In the passenger seat, Celeste began bouncing up and down in place, one hand gripping the grab handle, the other scanning through a selection of hyperpop music that started blasting through the speakers.
“ Celeste ! What the hell?!” Blake scolded them, throwing a hand up off of the wheel in concern. Celeste smacked the radio’s power button with an open palm, doubling over and all but burying their head between their knees.
“I’m sorry!” they shouted, sitting ram-rod straight and slamming their hands down onto their knees. “I’ve never felt such—such rank energies before. Pull—pull over, pull over!”
Celeste flapped their hands at a huge red barn with cheerful sunflowers painted over the side.
Trying his best to slow down, Blake took a sharp turn into the sparsely-populated parking lot.
As soon as the car came to a stop, Celeste slid down deeper into their seat, covering their face with both of their hands.
Blake scrubbed a palm over his mouth before looking into the rearview mirror, watching Marin in the backseat. He was uncharacteristically quiet, mouth pulled into a line and eyes blown wide.
“Are you okay?” Blake asked, turning around in his seat to face Marin. He extended a hand towards him, settling it across his knee.
Marin nodded, reaching out and covering Blake’s hand with his own, expression still blank.
The three were silent for a moment, the car full of the sound of heavy breathing. After a while, Celeste opened the passenger door, stepping outside and marching towards the barn.
“Why did you need me to pull ov—where are you even going ?” Blake called after them, pushing the driver’s door open a crack. Celeste threw up their hands, shaking their head.
“There’s a sign that says ‘apple cider donuts’,” they said by way of explanation. Blake assumed that they needed an excuse to get out their nervous energy and take in some fresh air. It had started to feel horribly cramped in the little Camry.
Not knowing what else to say to Celeste, Blake stepped out and rounded the car, slipping into the backseat alongside Marin.
He was still almost unnaturally motionless.
His only movement came from the slightest back-and-forth bob, which Blake suspected was a natural tremor from his pulse alone.
Still, Blake proceeded to check in on him.
“Hey. How are you doing?” he asked, settling a hand on Marin’s shoulder. Marin stared straight ahead, hands limp between his knees, picking at a cuticle. He shrugged in reply.
“I…” he started. He pursed his lips, shaking his head. “Sorry. I think I’m a lot more shaken than I let on.”
“That was… a lot back there,” Blake said, squeezing Marin’s shoulder. “It… must have been a lot for you, especially.”
“I feel bad for him, I guess,” Marin said, reaching up to cross his arm over his chest and rest his fingertips over Blake’s. “He must be incredibly unwell.”
“I… I don’t think that was mental illness,” Blake murmured in reply. He recalled the pale figure he’d seen twisting through the trees, the little hand wrapped around the tree trunk. “I think something… else was happening there. I… couldn’t tell you what, though.”
“What a miserable way to live.” Marin pressed his palm into his forehead, leaning his weight there.
“ Are you okay?” Blake triple-checked. There was now a slight tremble to Marin’s shoulder, a certain stiffness to his body beneath Blake’s touch that he had only ever seen the night that he had transformed into an octopus.
“I… maybe?” Marin whispered. “I really don’t like it when people charge towards me like that. I… it’s stupid, but I thought he was going to hit me.”
“It’s not stupid, anyone would be scared,” Blake assured, continuing to take in Marin’s abnormal stillness and flat tone of voice.
“I think you’re in fight-or-flight mode.
This is going to sound weird, but try humming a little, see if that helps you.
It’ll stimulate your vagus nerve and help you calm down. ”
Marin took a deep, steadying breath and released it as a melodic, droning hum. Blake’s own nerves began to still, awash in the calm inspired by Marin’s singing voice.
“Keep doing that,” he said, squeezing Marin’s shoulder. “I’m going to go get you some ice water. Are you okay on your own?”
Marin nodded, continuing to hum. He paused to say: “I calm down faster when I have some space. Take your time.”
Blake nodded, pressing a brief kiss upon Marin’s cheek and heading across the dusty parking lot towards the barn.
A cheerful sign above the large open door proclaimed that this was “Sunflower Orchards”.
The bakeshop inside was almost deserted, with it being about two months ahead of apple season.
The only people present were an elderly couple perusing knickknacks and Celeste, who was hovering by the pickup window, arms folded across their chest. They’d abandoned their bright yellow suit coat in the heat of the bakeshop and had it draped across their forearm.
Celeste shot a shaky smile at Blake as he approached, jogging their leg in distress.
“Hey,” Blake greeted them, spotting a fridge with cider and bottled soft drinks inside. “How uh. How’re you holding up?”
Celeste squeaked out a nervous laugh in reply. “Oh I’m fine. Just beyond freaked out. A little guilty I took some of my only friends to what was probably the most deeply haunted psycho-murder-house I’ve ever seen. Just fine. I got three donuts. The lady that makes them is called the Donut Queen—”
Blake let Celeste ramble as he purchased a bottle of water and asked for a cup of ice to go with it.
“Do you… need anything?” Blake asked once Celeste had stopped mumbling.
“I…” Celeste paused in the anxious bouncing of their leg, eyes dashing down to the floor. “A hug would be real nice right about now, if that’s not too weird?”
“Not weird at all,” Blake told them, offering one arm to his friend. Celeste surged up towards him, snaking their arms up under Blake’s and clinging to him in a vise grip. They were shaking like a leaf.
“I’m so sorry,” they whispered into Blake’s ear. “I’m so, so sorry. I wouldn’t have brought you if I’d have known. This is my fault, I did this…”
Blake could tell that Celeste was apologizing for more than just the trip. The image of the apple tree formed in his mind’s eye—the face engraved in the bark, twisted in agony.
“That’s not gonna happen,” Blake said, as much to reassure himself as to reassure Celeste. “I’m not gonna let that happen.”
“Okay,” Celeste said into Blake’s clavicle, nodding resolutely.
Over the privacy of Celeste’s shoulder, Blake’s face wrinkled in guilt.
As much as Blake wanted the sentiment to be true, it felt like a hollow lie to get Celeste to feel better.
He knew he could fulfill the first two conditions, but had no control over whatever fate weighed how worthy he was of Marin’s love.
But in that moment, it was better to try and reassure both himself and Celeste that everything was going to be okay.
They stepped away from Blake as their number was called at the pickup window, wiping their eyes with the back of their hand. “That’s me. I’ll see you at the car, okay?”
“Okay,” Blake confirmed, letting them go.
By the time Blake got back to the car with the ice water, Marin had settled down a little. He accepted the cup with a brief “Thanks” and rolled the sides over his cheeks as per Blake’s instructions. Moments later, Celeste clambered into the driver’s seat and began to nibble on their donuts.
“How are you guys feeling?” Blake asked, looking from one to the other. Celeste shrugged a little sharply while Marin nodded, his shoulders relaxing.
“Better,” Marin confirmed. His eyes opened and flicked towards Blake. “How about you? You’ve been so busy taking care of us that you haven’t even gotten a chance to calm down…”
“I’m doing all right,” Blake assured as Marin trailed off.
“Bull,” Celeste accused, mouth full of donut.
Blake didn’t bother countering that accusation.
Celeste swallowed audibly and rounded on Blake, cuffing caster sugar from the side of their mouth. “I’m tired of dancing around shit. Back there? That was fucked up and you’re probably feeling fucked up for it. Now get ready to get shrunk, bitch, because it’s my turn to take care of you.”
Despite everything, Blake smiled to himself.
He eased back into his seat, tilting his head towards the roof of the car as his emotions clogged up his mind.
“I’m not going to lie: I’m shaken. But I have the tools to take care of myself.
I appreciate that you want to care for me in turn, Celeste, but right now our focus needs to be on taking care of Marin.
You don’t have to take on that burden for me. ”
Celeste was quiet, but passed Blake a donut after a moment’s pause. “At least let me feed you.”
Blake smiled, accepting the offering. “I won’t say no to that.”
“You, too,” Celeste said, leaning back to crowd a donut into Marin’s hands. For a moment they ate in silence, the cinnamon-sugar crumble coating the donut dissolving into Blake’s mouth.
“So that was a bust,” Celeste said, breaking the tentative quiet.
“Not entirely,” Blake shook his head. “We’ve got confirmation that the conditions are real.”