Stain [H.S] - Major Editing

Chapter Thirteen

“Is he alright?” Harry asked.  

“He’s in the Great Beyond Emporium.” I said, rubbing my temples in distress.

“Huh?”

“He said he was looking for a crossbow to kill someone.” I managed a chuckle.  

“A crossbo—is he…drunk?”

“Yes…no.”

“Which is which?”

“I have a question.” I say.

“You didn’t answer mine, but, shoot.”

“Can you call someone drunk if he or she is drug-impaired?” I asked, hoping the question didn’t sound stupid to him as it did to me.  

Harry looked pensive. “I believe the appropriate American term is blitzed—no—it’s stoned. Yeah that’s it.”

“Then no, Fry’s not drunk. He’s stoned off his fucking ass.” I said, slightly irritated.

Harry looked at me and I looked at him. The corners of his mouth tilted upwards slightly, like a smirk, as though he was making a great effort to conceal his laughter.

“What?”

“You’re fascinating me.”

And at that moment I was as red as a beetroot. I looked away, hoping he didn’t see my embarrassment. “And you...you should drive, Casanova. We're wasting valuable time.” I croaked.

He laughed, and I felt embarrassed even more.  

The drive was a silent one, and I honestly liked it that way.  Passing by the city central, I watch as bright neon lights dissipate into tiny colorful balls, bokeh—they were everywhere; from gigantic advertisements, signs, posters, which hung at almost every building in a dazzling array of color, headlights, taillights, it was mesmerizing. The lights of the city were nearly blinding, though I have gotten used to it and quite frankly, liked it.  

We stopped at a red light, and Harry said, “Ever thought of visiting the bench of wisdom again?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“You should, since the two of us are allowed to make our own editorials already. You might need a bit of wisdom.”

“I don’t see the connection.”

“Just because you can’t see the connection for something doesn’t mean there is no connection.” He said.

“Okay, now I’m confused.”

“And for a second there I thought you were an analyst.” He joked and I roll my eyes.

He shook his head and said, “The bench is a symbol of consciousness. It is a teacher. When you sit on it, it teaches you, me, a lot of things. You become a better person than you were yesterday, or the day before that. You acquire knowledge from it. You become wiser.”

“How can sitting on a bench make me wiser?” I ask.

“Everything is alive, Alice. Don’t you see? Consciousness and matter are linked. We might look different but we are all made of the same material. A tree, a chair, a person, an inanimate bench, we are all of the same ingredients. That’s why all of us are…connected.” He said as he raised spirit fingers for emphasis, and I, being me, laughed. “By sitting on the bench of wisdom, you gain knowledge from the people who had previously sat on it. It’s that simple, Alice. It's like a cycle, you know?”

“Ah, I see.” I nodded. “The bench is like a metaphor.”

In my peripheral vision, I see him grin. “A metaphor for learning.”

“You have a weird way of thinking, Harry.” And I really like it.

“Be observant, Alice. When you’re an intent observer you learn brilliance even from the simplest objects of today.”

“Wow, that’s deep. Mariana Trench deep.”  I say and he didn’t answer.

We drove a few blocks more until we finally arrive at the Great Beyond. It was nine thirty and the stores in that block were closing. I hopped out the car and dashed to the emporium. A pudgy man flipped the door sign to SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED and I panic.

“Was a guy with green hair here?” I half yell.

He shook his head. “No, no, read the sign, we are closed! Come back tomorrow eight.” He said through the door. I spot a foreign accent.

“Ugh!” I take my phone out and dial Fry’s number.

“Alice!” Harry called. I turn and see him pointing at the alleyway. “I see him!”

“What?” I jog towards the alleyway and see Fry sitting beside the dumpster. He looked unconscious. Oh no.

“Fry!” I shrieked, my heart hammering against my chest. I dropped to my knees. Shaking him with all my might, tears started to cloud my vision. “You better not be dead, God damn it.”

"Don't leave me, Fry."

“Uh, Alice?” I hear Harry say behind me. “Alice.”

“What?” I barked, trying to stop the tears from falling down my face. The desperate thought of giving him CPR actually crossed my mind.

“He’s not dead. He’s breathing.”

“What?” I stop shaking him and notice that he was indeed, breathing.

“He probably just passed out from the drugs or something. It happens.”

“Oh my God.” I said, completely and utterly embarrassed—and relieved.

“Come on. Grab his legs and help me carry him to the car.” Harry said.

He reached under Fry’s arms, through the armpit, grabbed his forearms and dragged him towards the sidewalk. “Alice, his legs.”

“Oh, right.” I said, still shaken and dazed. I rushed towards the unconscious Fry and lifted his legs, and I notice passers-by staring at us, giving us strange looks. It was definitely a night to remember.

*        *        *        *

Shoutout to harrys_skinny_jeans1 because she is such a nice person. 

And wow, that was a very short chapter but I promise there will be long ones soon. 

-piper