23 Jun Chapter 4: Almanac (Unedited)

The winter had just started its first sparring session with the fall season. The wind was taxing the magic in the air and could split lips with its frigid temps. He was maneuvering through the gusts of inclement weather while walking upon the concrete pedestrian paths that landscaped the city.

It was mid-morning and he liked to read a newspaper with his cup of java so he was walking towards the closest coin-operated vendor. He found one not too far away from his usual coffee shop and as he stood there reaching into his pockets for some change a person approached him and said, “What’s new?”

He was focused on trying to put the change into the vendor, but replied, “Hey… hold on just a second.”

The man replied quickly, “Oh, I’m not asking for anything, just recognized you and thought I’d say hello.”

He looked up while reaching for the newspaper and noticed that the guy did look familiar, but couldn’t exactly pinpoint from where. “Where did we meet again?”

The man, not seemingly bothered by the lack of memory, replied, “Oh… a few months back. I met you and that darling of yours out by the ocean. You all were going to have a little campfire.”

He instantly remembered. “Oh yeah. That’s right! How have you been? Did you get to where you needed to go? You kind of just… disappeared – crazy to run into you again!”

The man nods, “Indeed. My apologies, but I had told someone that I’d already meet with ‘em so I had to leave. Anyways… so what are you doing out here?” There seemed to be a modest honesty in his tone.

At this point, he realizes that this man is most likely not homeless and carries on with the conversation, “I’m trying to pursue a career in writing. Actually, I’m writing a book right now.”

The man replied with a genuine interest, “You’re writing a book…really? What is it about? I like to write every now and then. Kind of therapeutic, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it really is.” He began to nonchalantly say, “Not really about anything too specific, I would say mostly just short fictional stories.”

“I see.”, the man said with a surprisingly concentrated sound, “Well look, I wanted to thank you for loaning me that money so that I could get on the bus. I didn’t have anything with me, as I was spending a couple of nights just sleeping on the beach’s sand – something odd, but something I like to do every now and then. But anyway, seeing as you’re writing a book, I thought I’d give you something I had written that maybe you could use.”

The man pulls out a piece of paper from the inner pocket of his coat and hands it to him.

Curious as to what type of stuff the man writes about, he decides to read it right there:

The second you’ve second-guessed your own stamina, persistence and willpower is the second that you’ve adequately defeated your Ego. From there, you will be able to embark on a TRUTHFUL success.

The man loos eager, “So what do you think? Just something I wrote real quick.”

He was a little surprised by the seriousness of what was written and one could tell in his tone, “It’s very interesting. Thought provoking, for sure. I might use this, at least as a concept. – Thank you… and what is your name?”

The man said something but it couldn’t be audibly heard as next to them, a guy was hollering on the phone, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s supposed to be a sea-“ The guy noticed that he was speaking loud and quieted his voice.

The man, he once thought was homeless, had a sense of concern in his tone, “Hey, I’ve got to go. We’ll catch up again some other time.”

He stood there for a few moments, reading some of the pages of the newspaper while trying to make sense of all the morning’s randomness. After reading a few stories he decides to start walking back to his place.

He unlocks the door to his place and notices her standing in the kitchen. She was wearing a sweater dress, leggings with her hair high-tied up, with full make-up on which took him a bit by surprise considering the time of day.

“Hey woman, I’m home” he playfully echoed through the house. She made it a point to cross her arms and give a very noticeable, over-exaggerated eye roll while saying, “I thought I told you not to call me that.”

Again, he sounded surprised, “What do you mean? I remember countless times you told me you like when I call you that…”

She sounded increasingly annoyed, “Funny. Maybe you can talk to all of your other women like that, but you’re not going to talk to me like that.”

He could tell that clearly, she was not happy with something. “What other women?”, he said with certainty, “What are you talking about? You’re the most dazzling, spectacular darling I’ve ever known or ever will know.”

Obviously ignoring everything that he said she replies with, “And you didn’t even bring me a coffee… you were already out.”

He was starting to lose a little bit of his patience, “Alright. What’s going on here? You don’t even like coffee… You never have. I don’t get it.”

She starts to wipe down the counter, vigorously, even though the counter is already clean while saying, “That’s not the point… and that’s the point – you don’t get it.” She grabs for her purse, “I’ve got to go. I’ll meet you at five-thirty.” And she starts to walk towards the door.

He tries to lighten the mood and says to her as she’s about to open the door, “I wrote something new for you, don’t you want to read it? You always do.”

She opens the door, but turns around with sass in her body language and the tone to match it, “I guess I’ll just have to read it later.” Then proceeds to walk out and close the door behind her.

He walks over to the couch and takes a seat, slowly sipping his coffee, pondering the weirdness of his day so far.

After some quality relaxation and solitude, he noticed he was out of coffee and decided to go get another cup. As he makes his way outside he notices a man standing out front. “How’s that book of yours coming along?” as he throws his cigar down onto the street with an overly dramatic expression.

“Excuse you?” He says to the man with an irritable tone. The man turns around and he notices that it is the guy with a seahorse glass eye.

The man continues, “They’re magical, aren’t they? I’m not going to leave you alone until you tell me what types of words your using. WE… need to know.”

With his last strum of patience, he says to the man, “Look. I don’t know who you are, or how you know me, but there is nothing magical about words… they’re just –“

The man cuts him off and widens his eyes with a sinister glare as he says, “They’re MAGIC. I’ve SEEN it.”

Understanding that this man might be mentally deranged, he changes course, “Honestly, the next time you decide to delightfully grace me with your pompous presence, we’re going to have an issue. Now continue on your way- do you hear me?” he clinches his fist with a confident demeanor.

The man neither frightened nor compassionate waves both of his hands in the air as he begins to walk away, “One way or another, kid.”

He stands there for a few moments watching to make sure the man walks out of eyesight before he turns and starts heading towards the coffee shop.

Walking in a daze he takes a shortcut through a parking lot, one that he normally takes on his way to the coffee shop, when he hears a woman yelling in frustration at her car that doesn’t seem to want to start. She notices him walking by and yells out, “Hey, do you think you can help me out?”

Knowing a few, limited but essential things about car mechanics he decides to try and help her. He walks up to the car, but his heart suddenly sinks, he sees that the woman in the car happens to be the woman he met at the park a few weeks back, with that same tattoo on her ear. This time he could see the tattoo as broad as daylight; it was that of a half-brightened light bulb. The detail was relatively extraordinary for the size of the design; half of the light bulb had filament, the other half did not.

She noticed it was him and her entire mood seemed to playfully change, “Wow. Interesting running into you… yet again, you’ve come to save me.”

“Save you? What in the hell are you talking about?”. He realized he was now stuck in the situation and the only way out was to try and help her car situation, so through a sigh he continued, “What seems to be wrong with your car?”

She hops out of the car, “You try. I don’t know. It just won’t start.”

He gets into the car and tries to turn the key. He hears a consistent click and immediately knows that the issue is probably with the car’s starter.

“Well…” he says, “My best-educated guess would be that there is an issue with your car’s starter. It’s not too expensive to fix but could take some time for someone to get out here.

However, if you have a wrench or something I can try climbing under the car and tapping the starter a few times while you try to turn the key. Sometimes that can work.”

Through a smile she says, “I think I do” and proceeds to open the trunk, pulls out the safety kit and hands him a wrench from it.

“Alright,” he says with confidence, “You sit in the car and when you hear me starting to tap the starter, you try turning the ignition – okay?”

She seemed to suspiciously not car too much about the car but nodded her head yes. After about thirty seconds or so she hears the tapping sound and turns the key – to her surprise, the car starts up.

He climbs up from the car and walks over to the side of the car where he rests his back upon while wiping his hands off on his jeans, “Well there ya go” he said, “It works. Hope you have a great one.”

She quickly gets out of the car and closely turns to him and with an obviously forced innocent tone says, “Thank you so much for your help. I don’t know what I would have done without you, how may I ever repay you?” She starts to flirtatiously inch closer to him.

“No need to repay me. It was no big deal – glad I could help.” But she puts her hands on the front of his belt, “I saw you looking at my tattoo… want to know why I got it?” she unbuckles his belt, “It’s because I have a difficult time… staying turned on.”

He nervously looks at his watch and mumbles, “I better get going, I’ve got somewhere I need to be.”

With a temperamental mood swing, she pushes him against the car, “Fine.” And gets into the car and peels out of the parking lot, missing his foot with her tire by about a hair’s length.

Standing alone in the lot he buckles his belt and decides to just head to the bar that he was going to meet his woman at later. It was a few hours shy of when she’d get there, but he figured he could definitely use the company of a few solid cold brews.

His initial plan of only having a few beers ended up being about ten. His woman was already an hour late. As he was taking a sip from his tenth beer he noticed through the window outside that his woman was walking up, conversing with some guy. Nothing seemed initially suspect, but it did sort of rub him the wrong way.

She walks inside, notices him sitting at the bar and sits at the seat next to him.

He turns to her and asks, “Who was that?”

With an effectively genuine tone she says, “No one. Just a friend. You’ve never met him.” She looks down at his jeans, “Why are your pants so dirty?”

He takes a sip from his beer, “No worries, I trust you. Oh, it’s nothing really, just helped someone with something. So, do you want to read what I wrote for you or not?”

She makes her tone a high octave, “Why don’t you ask that girl what she thinks? She loves you’re writing.”

Not amused he, “That happened weeks ago… why are you bringing that up now? I already told you the story…”

She takes a deep breath with her eyes closed, “Right. You, as someone who never loses his work, were out on a walk, dropped your papers, fell asleep on a bench, got woken up by this girl who found your papers, then we randomly see her out and she basically gets you off in front of me? That story?” Just as she finishes her sentence she slams her purse on the bar top and a keychain pops out. It had a picture of a seahorse on it.

He quickly grabs at the keychain and with the depths of his voice says, “ Where did you get this?”

Startled by his actions, she gently says, “Some guy gave it to me for free at the market earlier today – he said it was a goodluck charm.”