Victor Black - And the Garden of the Gods

Chapter 16: A Moment in the Park

Victor's red Jeep made its way from the awakening streets of downtown to the sprawling park running along Fountain Creek. He pulled the Jeep into one of the coveted parking spaces lining the outskirts of the park and jumped out before Willow. She had been freaking out from the espresso she drank back at the coffee shop, acting like she was drunk.

Willow spilled out onto the pavement, crumbling to her shaky knees. Victor caught her upper body just in time to save her from completely wiping out, and she laughed uncontrollably at the affair.

"Oh, awful, nasty coffee," she howled, and let out a series of uncontrollable hiccups.

"I wouldn't know, I'm not hungry or thirsty anymore," said Victor.

Victor fumbled around, trying to prop Willow up without putting his hands in the wrong places. She helped him out and leaned up against the Jeep. Together, they slid her body up the Jeep's bumper until she stood next to it, holding onto the mirror.

"You're acting drunk," said Victor, "and totally out of control—it was just coffee for crying out loud."

"Oh, but it was espresso a-la-George, remember?" said Willow.

"Well," said Victor, "if you get sick, I'm going to kill George."

"I think he'd enjoy you trying," said Willow, who giggled between hiccups. "He's all over you, Vic. It's kind 'a creepy."

"Oh, everyone's into each other these days," said Victor, struggling to keep Willow upright. He groaned. "It doesn't bother me who's into guys, half our school isn't even straight anymore. I have a feeling he's hiding something though, and I think Fiona's onto it. They don't seem to like each other."

Victor was concerned. Willow wasn't herself. Her long black hair was still in a bun, but strands of it clung to her face and blew in the morning breeze, and she didn't even mind. Victor noticed her face looked flushed—rosier than earlier, and he attributed it to whatever was in the coffee.

"Are you ok? You're not going to have a heart attack, are you?" he said, concerned for her wellbeing.

"Don't be silly, silly," she laughed. "I'm fine, I know I'm acting strange, but I can't help it, the world's coming to a screeching halt and I'm high as Mount Everest."

She lapsed into a laugh-cry tirade, sniffling as her nose ran. Victor dug into his pocket and produced a crumpled bar napkin he had swiped from the Wild Goose. Willow took it and dabbed her face, trying not to smear the little makeup she had applied before breakfast.

"It's going to be fine," said Victor, "we're at the park now, look." He pointed at the aspens lining the sidewalk—they were yellow but losing most their leaves with the change of the season. The light from the sun, peeking over the tops of the city's low, high-rise buildings made them glow like ghosts in the haze. The field looked like a dream. The green of the grass faded into the yellow of the trees, which in turn disappeared into the light blue, barely visible sky. Victor felt like he stood in an impressionist's painting.

"Let's go to the center of the lawn. I have a blanket we can use."

He let go of Willow who rested against the Jeep, opened the back door, and took a red and black checkered blanket from the back seat.

"I think we need a moment off. Come on."

Victor took Willow's hand and led her carefully across the road surrounding the park. They stumbled over the curbs till they reached the edge of the lawn, and made their way out to the center, barely visible from the thickness of the air.

"Do we even know what this is?" said Willow, waving her hand in the air like it was cigarette smoke. "Why hasn't anyone spoken about this haze, or fog, or whatever it is, and explain it? Even the news stations have been quiet."