Seth's Journal #65

I really feel like I’m running out of options. I need to lay low for a bit and clear my head. Time to call in a favor I don’t like to abuse. These people are too important to me to lose.

I slip my DASI over my eyes and look at my hand to verify my fingerprints. I scroll through my contacts list. It’s depressing to see how many people I can’t call anymore. I tap my finger in the air over his name and hear the call initiate.

“Holy shit, long time, no hear. How’ve you been, man?” I hear actual joy in Finn’s voice and, for just a second, I think I might cry from relief.

“Eh, I’ve been better,” I say as a cautious smile hits my lips.

“Cheery as always, I see,” he chuckles. “When you gonna come visit us? You know there’s always a drink ready for you at our table.” I love Viking hospitality.

“Actually, that’s kind of why I called. I was hoping maybe I could come by and hang out for a day or so. I kinda need to clear my head.”

“Dude, anytime.”

“How about in a couple of hours?” I’m not used to feeling so sheepish. I don’t like it.

“Absolutely. There isn’t, uh, gonna be anyone raiding my house looking for you, is there?”

“I hope not. I got an anonymous toll pass, and I think I’m free of trackers, so we should be good.”

“Cool,” he says to my relief. “I wouldn’t say you couldn’t come regardless, I just like to be prepared.” I can hear him smiling. He’s always smiling.

“Thanks. Hey, uh, you’re not going to shoot me are you?”

He laughs. “I wasn’t planning on it, why?”

I sigh. “It’s, uh, it’s been a long day.”

He laughs again. “See you in a couple of hours, man. Arnora will freak out.”

“Thanks, Finn.” I hang up.

I pack a small bag and lock my DASI into my helmet. This is going to be a long ride, with a lot of time to think. I’m not looking forward to it. I wait until dark and get on my bike. I try to shake the feeling that something is going to prevent me from going.

 I escape the city unhindered.

After a couple of hours, I pass to the north of Philly. I start seeing more trees than buildings. Even through the taste of oil on the road, I can smell nature. Because it’s different, it’s good. It signifies a true change in environment, one I desperately need.

Another hour and I’m pulling off of the turnpike, headed south. Actual farmland. I always forget that it exists so close to the city. My GPS is turned off for security, but I don’t need it. I know these roads well.

I pull into their driveway and turn my bike off. The quiet is alien, deafening. I stand up and almost tip over. My ass is numb from three hours of riding. I stretch and grab my bag. Finn is waiting for me up on his deck, drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. Damn, it’s good to see him.

“What’s up, motherfucker!” He drains his glass and moves to meet me as I walk up the wooden stairs. He’s a Fomorian, so he’s a huge bastard, and his hug crushes me. Once again, irrational tears almost erupt. I’m such a little bitch.

He holds me away from him and slaps my face affectionately. “Good to see you, prick. I’m sure you want a smoke, but we’re doing that outside now,” he says with a roll of his eyes. Clearly this is Arnora’s idea. I set my bag down on a table and light one up.

“What do you want, blueberry, black currant, peppermint…”

“Peppermint, please. That shit is divine.” It’s nice to visit the owners of one of the country’s largest meaderies.

He steps inside for a minute and I take a deep breath. The stress is already leaving me. I lean on the railing and take a long drag off of my cigarette, the distant lights of houses sparkling through the trees. Finn rejoins me with a wine goblet for each of us. We clink glasses.

“To the Two Ravens, my safe port in the worst of storms.”

His concerned eye assesses me for a moment before he smiles and drinks. “Well, we wouldn’t have been able to do all of this without you.” He obviously wants to ask what’s going on with me, but he’s letting me get to it in my own time. “You are getting your checks from us, right? I mean, I assume if you weren’t, you wouldn't just let it go.”

“Yes, I am. And every quarter I’m grateful that I had the good sense to invest in your ludicrous notion of going legit. I mean, didn’t you give up an eye for the black ops biz?”

Finn laughs. “Yeah, well, Odin still favors me. And gods know Loki still watches over Arnora. Speaking of which, I think she’s back from the apiary.” We watch as a car pulls into the driveway below. One of the most adorable Tuatha girls I’ve ever met jumps out of it and runs up the stairs, squealing. She jumps on me and hugs me with her arms and legs. She plants a kiss on my forehead and leans back, all smiles. Her platinum blonde hair smells of orange blossom honey.

“How ya doin’ Sexcorpse?!?” she says in her high voice. Her old nickname for me amuses her as much as ever. She drops back down to the deck, fully a foot shorter than me.

“I’m doing great, babydoll.” I smile.

“You’re a shitty liar,” she says as she walks past me to kiss Finn on the cheek.

“I’m a great liar, you just know me too well.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go inside, I’m freezing. I put a roast on when Asshole told me you were coming,” she says as she slaps Finn on the ass. We follow her into their kitchen, where the smell of real, home-cooked food is intoxicating. She puts down her bag and immediately starts putting food on plates for us.

“So what’d you do this time?” she asks, blunt as the baseball bats she used to wield. I hear Finn sigh a little, and I can’t help but snicker.

“It’s a long story, honey.”

We sit and eat. I talk, they listen. Finn is mostly quiet. After finishing her food, Arnora starts baking cookies. She punctuates my story with good-natured  but serious insults after each of my spectacular fuck-ups. I finish my tale of woe and quiet comes over us. They both want to give me advice, but neither know where to begin.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need,” Finn says. I know there’s a time limit, but it’s good of him to say.

We fall into the old routine. Every time we see each other, we can’t help but reminisce about our days in black ops together. Even the shitty times, the narrow escapes and the friends lost, they’re better with alcohol and embellishment. All the while, their affectionate bickering is accompanying the conversations like a familiar dance.

Arnora gets up to go to the fridge. “What are you drinking, Asshole?” she asks Finn.

“Vanilla Lemon.”

“Good, that’s the one I poisoned,” she says, pulling out the bottle to refill our glasses.

“Gods, I hope so…” Finn says with mock exasperation, running his hands through his long brown hair.

It’s amazing how I can love two people so much and be so intensely jealous of them. I really am a piece of work.

“It’s getting late, man. You look like shit. Get some sleep where you don’t have to worry about getting shot in your bed.” He stands up and claps his large hand on my shoulder and walks down the hall to their bedroom.

“Here, eat more cookies,” Anora says, offering me a plate.

“I think I’m good, hon.”

“Eat a fucking cookie!” she says, with her serious face.

I feign fear and take another cookie. The girl once broke two of my ribs, so I don’t have to feign too hard.

“It’s good to see you, Seth. You should really visit more.” She takes my bag to the guest room and wishes me goodnight.

I wish I could, but I know eventually I’d fuck things up. And they are too important for that.