Echo Online 2

by Zachariah Dracoulis

  “Same.” Rachael added right as my phone started to ring, “What’s the go, Captain Popular?”

  “‘Captain Popular’?” I scoffed after pulling out my phone and seeing it was Pete.

  “You inserted ‘Captain Insert’ into my vocabulary, I’m going to abuse it.” Rachael declared.

  “Heh, alright then,” I chuckled before finally answering my phone, “hey, Pete.”

  “Hey,” came my Head Chef’s obviously stressed reply, “I hate to ask, but could I get you to come in for an hour? I’ve had to send Carl home early.”

  I was kind of thrown by the request, but hearing that it was only for an hour I knew what he needed, “Prep?”

  “Yeah,” Pete sighed as best as he could while carrying something heavy, “maybe some dishes, too.”

  “Alright, not a problem. How long ‘til you need me?” I asked, setting my groceries on the conveyor belt and pulling out my wallet.

  “Whenever’s good for you,” Pete replied with relief, “just want to knock this over before Kurt gets in.”

  “Give me… half-hour?” I said, hoping that gave me enough time.

  “See you then.” Pete got out before dropping something and swearing excessively as he hung up.

  “Don’t tell me,” Rachael said as soon as I’d put my phone away, “you’re a man of the night and that was your pimp.”

  “You got me,” I replied with a serious expression, shuffling along the line in pursuit of my slowly escaping groceries as I did, “all that swearing was because he couldn’t pimp slap me over the phone.”

  “Gator don’t play no shit, huh?” Rachael chuckled.

  “No, siree,” I huffed as the despondent young male clerk started scanning my stuff through, “anyway, it’s been nice seeing you.”

  “Really has,” Rachael said, smiling broadly, “when do you think we’ll get a chance to have another little powwow like this?”

  “Probably when I’m killing your boss,” I replied before paying for my groceries, “or, you know, I need somewhere to go out for the night.”

  “I’m working most nights, nine to one-ish.” Rachael explained with what sounded like eagerness, but that could’ve just been my overconfident brain giving me an ego boost.

  “Nine sounds kind of early, doesn’t it?” I chuckled, grabbing the hemp bag that I was pretty sure I didn’t ask for at the end of the checkout.

  “Eh,” Rachael replied with a shrug, “it’s early enough to get mostly sober post-work people that pay well, then I end before the Jack the Ripper period kicks in.”

  “That’s still a thing?” I asked, genuine concern wrapping my words as I backed towards the exit.

  “Not so much,” Rachael called over, the clerk barely registering the objectively gorgeous woman directly in front of him, “but it doesn’t hurt for a girl to have a little caution in her life.”

  “Fair enough,” I laughed before turning to go through the automatic doors, “see you later!”

  “You too!”

  Once I was out of eyeshot and had my headphones back in, I let myself defrag a bit.

  I wasn’t overwhelmed by the situation at all, it was just that once I’d added Rachael to the ‘friend’ category in my brain, I started thinking about all the requirements that entailed.

  Another person that could ask me to help them move in exchange for a pizza and a pat on my sore back.

  Another person who might get weird if I didn’t socialize enough, like a chrysanthemum that your mom gave you drying up when you don’t water it.

  Another person to-

  And that’s when I stopped myself and changed tack.

  Socializing is healthy.

  Socializing is important.

  Socializing is good.

  Yes, I am aware that the fact that I had to convince myself of that was probably yet another sign that a light and breezy trip to a therapist might do me some good, but I was kind of overwhelmed.

  Good overwhelmed, but overwhelmed nonetheless.

  Really made going into work a positive thing.

  13

  “We’ve really got to get you a key.” Jane laughed after letting me in with the groceries, “You okay? You’re rushing around a bit.”

  “Yeah, yeah, no,” I blubbered out as I got stuff into the fridge, the walk home taking significantly longer than I thought, “just got a call from Pete. Needs me to help him with some… prep. Shit.”

  “Yeah,” Jane lightheartedly sighed while I stood there looking all sad at the Chinese on the couch, “now this is all going to have to go to waste.”

  “I’m so-”

  “I’m giving you shit,” Jane interjected with a scoff, “honestly, I’ve been sneakily snacking since the second it got here between work and Ripper.”

  “What’s ‘Ripper’?” I asked, briefly forgetting why I was in such a rush to get all the food away.

  “New game,” Jane replied, pulling out her phone, “it’s this card game, free-to-play, but get this, the cards are procedurally generated.”

  It took me a second to remember what procedural generation was, and then another second to try and figure out how that would work, “Wouldn’t you just end up with a bunch of cards that are the same but a blue version or something?”

  “That’s what I thought!” Jane blurted out excitedly, “But it doesn’t work like that somehow, or the results are so random that getting another almost identical card is near-impossible.”

  “Why the emphasis on ‘almost’?” I asked as I started shuffling towards the door.

  “Well, it’s possible to get the same card twice, like, the exact same card, which, to me, means once they’re in the system, they’re just in there.” Jane explained, clearly very excited about the prospect of the game, “I’ve spent, like, twenty bucks on it in the past hour just getting packs and I’ve gotten two double-ups, both of which I was allowed to trade on this marketplace thingy.”

  “Sounds complicated,” I said, genuinely wanting to hear more but worrying that I’d already pushed the boundaries of acceptable time-wasting, “really complicated.”

  “That’s just the thing,” Jane added, losing none of her excitement as she grabbed a container of fried rice and joined me at the door, “it’s really not. It’s pretty, yeah, but they’ve kept the whole thing simple.”

  “Send me a link and I’ll download it when I get home.” I replied as I opened the door and had the fried rice forced into my free hand.

  “I will, but you have to promise to eat something before you go in.” Jane said, attempting and failing to be stern.

  “The shift’s really not going to be that long, I’ll be back way before dinner.” I explained before getting a waft of the shrimp hidden in the ricey goodness, “But if you insist.”

  “I do.” Jane replied, upping the ante on the stern train, “Besides, aren’t Friday nights really busy?”

  “They are, but they’ve got Kurt, Pete, and the school-based apprentice in tonight,” I explained, “plus, I’m pretty sure Carl will end up going back in. He’s rostered on and judging from the call, it sounds like he took an early lunch.”

  “Otherwise they would’ve just called you in.” Jane said knowingly, “Alright, is there anything you need me to do before you get back?”

  “Yeah, maybe don’t spend all your money like some wino at three in the morning watching infomercials,” I chuckled, slipping out of the apartment, “you know, until I get a chance to put a deck together.”

  “Like anything’s going to pull you away from Echo.” Jane scoffed as I hit the halfway point between our doors, “See you soon.”

  “Promise.” I replied before stopping, jogging back to Jane, giving her a quick kiss on the lips that made her smile, and then darting back over to my apartment.

  Tell you what, getting dressed quickly and eating fried rice does not a good combination make.

  Thankfully, I didn’t have to focus on my mess and overall clumsiness for long as I left my apartment and bo
unded down the stairs where I found Carl, a mix of surprise and exhaustion painted across his face.

  “I…” I trailed off, seeing his not-insignificant shiner.

  “I’m sorry,” Carl replied tiredly, “about last night. I was in the wrong, I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  So… yeah, that happened.

  “I…” I once again trailed off, “But I punched you?”

  “Yeah, well, I kind of deserved it.” Carl huffed before rubbing his head, “Sorry, killer headache. Not your fault at all. Truth is that I haven’t really been eating properly for the past two days.”

  “Oh shit, you okay?” I asked.

  “Course,” Carl chuckled meekly, “just been too focused on the game. Short of showering and going to the bathroom, I really haven’t been taking care of myself so good.”

  The reasoning was obvious, but I still found myself asking “Why?”

  “Echo, I guess,” Carl replied with a shrug, “gave me a way to start avoiding all the adult crap I have to deal with.”

  Things went quiet for a while, him not really wanting to tell me what he was going through, me not really wanting to ask, but eventually Carl let out a long sigh and started off back towards his apartment, “You better head in,” he said without looking around, “let Pete know I’ll definitely be fine for my shift tonight.”

  “Will do.” I replied, feeling mildly uncomfortable with how we were leaving things and at the same time still not wanting to pursue it.

  I felt like a jackass, yes, and Carl seemed genuinely remorseful, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d been a dick and, to a less upsetting degree, spread bullshit about me in Echo.

  Sure, I wasn’t really letting the pseudo-social politics of Echo affect my day-to-day, something I definitely wasn’t about to start doing after seeing someone who clearly was, though that didn’t change the fact that it was a shitty thing for him to do.

  Thankfully, me being me, I was able to quickly switch on my work brain and let all the petty crap I was allowing to weigh me down disappear by the time I got to the car.

  Is that indicative of being well-adjusted or some kind of dissociative disorder?

  Eh, potato, po-psycho.

  14

  “Hey, Pete.” I said as I walked into the kitchen and finished doing up my buttons, “What do you need me on?”

  For reasons that were obvious only after I asked, Peter wasn’t thrilled about the question that forced him to stop what he was doing and think.

  “Get the roasts ready?” I suggested after a solid five seconds of my Head Chef staring at the large pile of parsley he’d been decimating.

  “Yep, that one.” Pete sighed with relief before restarting his chopping, “Sorry, been trying to get some music on for the past hour and just keep getting distracted.”

  “Know that feeling,” I chuckled, tightening my apron and stepping into the cold-room, “got anything you want to listen to or just radio?”

  “Managed to get my phone connected about an hour ago,” Pete replied, pointing over to the stereo with his head, “just find something kind o’ heavy but not too over the top.”

  “I’m sure I’ll find something.” I grunted as I hoisted a tray with a bit over a hundred pounds of pork in it onto my belly, “Bumped into Carl on my way out.”

  “Oh yeah?” Pete scoffed while I waddled over to a bench and dumped the tray on it, “He seem okay for tonight?”

  “Eh, I guess so,” I said, walking over to the stereo and finding Pete’s phone precariously close to the edge, “from the way he told it, he just needs a glass of water and a nap.”

  “What is he, six?” Pete laughed.

  “You tell me, you hired him.” I joked back before finding an album and hitting play, “Heilung good?”

  “Fuck yeah.” Pete replied with an eager nod, “But yeah, I know. I don’t regret it, he’s a good worker, he just goes through phases.”

  “I think the phase you’re referring to is called ‘his entire employment history’,” I lightheartedly jabbed as I walked over to the sink and washed my hands, “I get what you’re saying though. Anything big tonight?”

  “Yeah, got two twenty-plus bookings and a bunch of fives,” Pete let out with a defeated breath, “I think at least one of them is a clan from Echo.”

  “They’re meeting up here?” I chuckled after grabbing a box of salt and a bottle of olive oil and heading back to the bench, “Not ripping on them or anything, but wouldn’t a gaming lounge or something be better?”

  “Not many gaming lounges with our sort of menu,” Pete half-joked as he started gently headbanging to the drums playing through the speakers, “good news is that they’re keeping it simple with the menu, prepaid and preordered. May as well be a function. Which reminds me, could you throw another tray in the combi?”

  “Sure thing.” I said with a nod, finishing up the first set of roasts before going in for another, “You guys’ll be alright, though?”

  “Yeah, as long as you don’t decide to attack while we’re all at work,” Pete scoffed, “that’s been a pretty big worry for Carl lately.”

  “Really?” I laughed after shifting another tray onto the bench and closing the cold-room door with my foot, “I mean, that is a good idea, bu-”

  “Don’t bother,” Pete replied with a grin, “Carl made sure there’re always at least a few squads of Angels or Elves getting around.”

  “Elves?” I asked, “You guys got Elves?”

  “A few factions of the High Elves, yeah,” Pete explained, “figured you knew that already.”

  “Nope,” I huffed amusedly, “I’ve been doing my best to not look at your guys’ hand.”

  “Doubt you’d be able to if you wanted to,” Pete chuckled, finishing the parsley and boxing it up, “most of our goings on are handled through our super-secret forums.”

  “Ooh, sounds fancy,” I mocked, “bet they’re not as cool as our forums, though.”

  “Is that a fact?” Pete asked with a smirk, “What sets them apart in your mind?”

  “Well, for starters, my clan is actually cool.” I said assuredly, “Hallowed Kings, not so much.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Pete sighed, surprising me, “shit, even the name ‘Damned Legion’ is cool. Less pretentious, anyway.”

  “For real?” I scoffed, “Don’t get me wrong, ‘Hallowed Kings’ is as pretentious as they come, but ‘Damned Legion’ is edgy as fuck.”

  “Eh, not really,” Pete replied as he walked into the cold-room, his head still moving with the steadily intensifying music, “you didn’t even mention a katana or a fedora once.”

  I laughed at that, giving me a moment to shift the thoroughly oiled and seasoned roasts into the preheated combi oven.

  My job was hard at times, most of the time actually, but moments like that really made up for it.

  The camaraderie, the joking around, the music, Hell, even the process of preparing food was all so organic and relaxing, and at the end of it all I could enjoy a fully prepped kitchen.

  “Hey… Buck?” Kurt chuckled confusedly as he walked in with the apprentice in close tow, “What are you doing here?”

  “Prep,” I replied, equally confused as I pulled out a cardboard box of spring onions, “what about you?”

  “Uh… prep?” Kurt said, his confusion turning into a smile, “I think I forgot to tell Pete I was bringing Lyle in.”

  Oh yeah, did I mention that our apprentice was Kurt’s kid?

  “That you did,” Pete huffed amusedly as he came out of the cold-room, “but I’ll put him to work anyway. You can head home, Buck.”

  “You sure?” I asked, looking at the clock that hung over the pass, “It’s barely been five minutes.”

  “Yeah…” Pete trailed off, tsking as he did, “Alright, how about you stay another ten and I’ll chuck you five bucks for gas and you can clock out fifteen minutes early at some point in the next week or so?”

  I pretended to mull it over for a second, mostly so
they wouldn’t think I was too eager to get out of the last and inarguably longest part of clean up.

  “Sure,” I finally replied before taking off my apron and getting started on my buttons, “I’ll smash through some dishes, yeah?”

  “Are you sure?” Kurt asked, checking and setting his phone down as a familiar chime rang from the room behind him, “Lyle can do ‘em if you want.”

  “Dude wants to be a chef, not a dishie,” I chuckled, earning me a smile from the apprentice, “besides, I fuckin’ hate doing up spring onions.”

  That was met with a grateful nod from Kurt as I walked past them and out the door to put my jacket and apron with my bag, leaving the Sous to switch into chef mode and start ordering his kid around.

  It was hard having the kid around sometimes, not because he was actually difficult to deal with, or even because he made mistakes, it was just that he was kind of… quiet.

  Not serial killer quiet or anything, just ‘awkward high schooler trying to work around a bunch of adults’ quiet.

  As you can probably guess, I hadn’t really gotten to know him all that well, and I sincerely doubted I would get to before he either put his apprenticeship on hold to go to college or met a girl or something that made him not want to spend every night from Friday to Sunday working with us degenerates.

  That’s not a judgment of him, more of an indictment against us.

  15

  I ended up lingering another fifteen minutes past when I was supposed to head out, mostly because we got to talking about the intricacies of Echo versus the simplicity of Ripper after Lyle brought it up.

  Ah, good ole fashioned gaming elitism, feels good to be on the right side.

  Anyway, deciding that I shouldn’t spend the next however long explaining the superiority of Echo because you could play Ripper in Echo while simultaneously punting Gnomes, I made my way home, turning my phone on silent as soon as I got in the car.

  I was sure I’d end up forgetting to check it when I got home, but I’d quickly told myself that if it was really important I’d get a call.