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Part 1-6: Lamppost
It actually went okay, up until the wifi.
I loosened up after a few pints. Deluxe didn’t say too many oddball things (and when she did, her date seemed to find it endearing). The boys did most of the talking; since we were new to town they had a lot of material to cover when it came to recommendations, hot spots, local politics, and the like.
Eventually the conversation swung around to us, and inevitably, to the Unhealthy Vegetarian. Since I had my laptop with me, Deluxe insisted we show them some of the concept work.
Most of it was on the cloud. And I couldn’t connect.
“Internet’s not working for me either,” said Dack, after checking his phone. “Here, I’ll hotspot.”
Deluxe cast me a glance, as I stared at the empty web browser. Empty, like a certain book. The pleasant fuzz of alcohol snapped away in an instant, and my breath shortened as if the air had thinned.
“You okay…?” asked Fergus.
I was okay. At least that’s what I tried to tell myself. This was stupid association, psychology 101: last time the wifi went out a bunch of crap happened and I’d been letting it fester and well up inside and just because it was out now didn’t mean—
The power flickered.
Conversation in the bar faltered, then came back in sharp relief; the music had died with the surge. People were laughing in that nervous way when something harmless but startling happens. Dack and Fergus were among the laughers. Deluxe put her hand on my shoulder.
I closed my eyes, bracing for an explosion.
It didn’t come, but the fear was real and running around in my intestines now. Then my computer screen died.
“Alena, what’s wrong?” asked Dack.
“Is your phone on?” I said.
“Huh?”
I glanced around. A few people were holding phones, looking frustrated, tapping at screens, holding down buttons.
“Well look at that, she’s dead! That is so weird,” said Dack, tapping at his device.
“Can’t be electromagnetic…” Deluxe said.
I had to leave. There was something… something was too close, pressing all around. I was up and stalking to the door, shawl all askew, not caring, needing out. Someone called my name. It didn’t matter. I burst out into the night, sucking in the cool air. I felt a little better, until I looked down the street. My lungful of air turned into a ball of ice in my chest.
Willy leaned against a lamppost, on the opposite side of the road, a block away. He bathed in the halo of light like a modern day romeo. Same clothes. No book. He stared straight ahead, wore a look of utter concentration, pointer fingers and thumbs pressed together in a diamond shape. I wanted to turn back to the door of the bar, but I found I couldn’t move.
Then his face relaxed. His whole head snapped toward me, moving like one of Deluxe’s budgies. He waved, then his lamppost fell apart in a thousand pieces. I heard the light fizz and pop, then the whole thing dropped at once, falling like a wet blanket. There was an awful racket as metal clanged and bounced all around.
He started walking towards me, with purpose. Smiling. I made to run, but my feet and legs had decided to become bricks or something. Helpfully, my brain directed my attention to a curvy piece of the lamppost that was rocking back and forth on the ground.
I blinked. Tried to yell. Not sure if I did or not. The rocking piece was still going. Willy made it over my side of the street.
I blinked again and his face was in mine—nose to nose—then I saw nothing at all.
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