Chromeheart

by Alia Hess

  Dusty let out a hitching sigh. “I am happy with you. And I never really thought there was anything missing from my life, but then I started thinking about all this money and how I could improve my life with it. Be normal and happy. But now you’re telling me it won’t fix who I am. I thought money fixed everything.”

  “No.” He turned to face her, gripping her hand tighter. “I’m going to tell you story—when my grandma died, she leave me some money. Would be about… thirty-seven thousand tins.”

  Dusty’s mouth fell open.

  “It’s not really that much money. Seem like lots at the time, though. Would have been enough to pay rent in my piece of shit apartment for, like, two and half year. Or buy cheap new car. But you know how long it take me to spend that money? One month.”

  “What? But—how? That’s crazy!”

  “I spend some on new computer, new clothes, bought lots of pizza. That took little bit. Maybe…” He did the math. “Three thousand tins. Not too much. Then I get friends come to me and say, ‘Oh, hey, Sasha. Can I borrow some money? Only need two thousand. I pay you back in two weeks.’ And guess what? I never see those guys again. So then, I got about thirty-two left. Other friends start calling me. ‘Hey, Sasha! Come to party with us!’ And I’m not going to say no to party. I went to lot of bars and buy everybody drink. Got really drunk, all the time. Went to race track and gamble on racing dogs. Went to strip clubs. Throwing money at strippers and pay for special dances in back room.” He frowned, looking away. “Paid for prostitutes too. In Russia, you get in trouble for that. I do that couple times—give them, like, two hundred-fifty tins both times—”

  Dusty reeled. “Two hundred-fifty?”

  “Yeah. Then, third time, police see us. Prostitute took all the money from my wallet and run away, and police put me in jail. I had to pay lot to get out.” He swallowed. “So, you know what thirty-seven thousand tins give me? Bad liver, no friends, and night in jail.”

  “But, that’s not the same thing. Just because you were reckless with your money, doesn’t mean the same thing would happen to me.”

  “True, but I’m telling you, it’s not going to make you happy.” Sasha gestured to the gift shop. “Look at Corvin. He had lots of money. Was he happy? Probably not. I think he was pretty messed up inside. And now? He sell all his stuff to walk hot roads past boring corn fields, and I think he’s more happy than ever. Look at him—sitting in there reading hundred-year-old fashion magazine. He looks like he’s having good time. He’s still messed up, but having good time.” Sasha shrugged. “Maybe I can say same thing for all of us.”

  Corvin hopped off the counter and ducked through the rainwater dripping from the ceiling. He strode up to Sasha and Dusty. “I get kinda nervous when I see you guys having a conversation and my name comes up. You’re not talking about hammers and my head again, are you?”

  Sasha laughed. “No. Will you please tell Dusty that money don’t make you happy?”

  “I thought it did. At first. But, no. I’m giving you guys most of what I have left and I’ve never felt better.”

  “That is same thing I just say.”

  Dusty huffed. “Then why am I even out here? Should have stayed in Hammerlink had I known my life wasn’t going to improve.” She pushed herself from the seat and walked into the darkness beyond the lantern glow.

  I know she loves me, but I’m not enough. I can’t change her past and I don’t know what else I can give her or do for her to fill that void in her life.

  Corvin chewed his gum, frowning. “Um, sorry. I was only being honest.”

  “It’s okay. When she get mad, she need time to be alone for bit. I’ll talk to her in little while.”

  Corvin flopped into Dusty’s vacated chair and flipped open his magazine. “The clothes in these things are so amusing. Who would wear this stuff?”

  Sasha studied the pattern of the carpet for a moment, his palms growing clammy. “Do you want to sleep with Dewbell?”

  Corvin paused, his hand on a magazine page. He turned to Sasha. A slow grin spread across his face, his perfect white teeth shining in the lantern light. “I don’t think I like that question, Sasha.”

  Fear dropped into Sasha’s gut like a stone. He clenched his fists. “Yeah? Well, that’s too bad. She is my friend, and I feel like I got job to keep her safe. And I want to like you, Corvin, but you are very creepy guy. I can’t let you hurt her. In any kind of way.”

  Corvin’s lip twitched. Then he laughed and slapped Sasha on the back. “You’re a true friend. And why not? Dewbell is a magnificent lady. Of course you want to look out for her. And even though it’s none of your business—at all—I admire your candor.” He swiveled in the chair and put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder, squinting. “I like being honest too. I’m going to be honest with you right now. …Are you ready?”

  Sasha’s hands shook, but he nodded, staring into Corvin’s face.

  “I would never, ever hurt Dewbell. She’s wonderful. Beautiful. And such a fountain of wisdom… Now I’m going to tell you something else.” Corvin squeezed Sasha’s shoulder harder. “I think it would be a very bad idea to ask me questions like this again. Okay, pal?”

  Sasha pictured Dewbell in his place—Corvin’s tight grip on her shoulder, peering menacingly into her face. “This is exact thing I’m talking about. You act all nice, but on inside, you’re really mad. What if Dewbell make you mad? What you going to do? Threaten her, like you are doing to me right now? Spank her? Make her do things she don’t want to do? Poor woman can’t even yell for help.”

  Corvin paled. “I wouldn’t do those things. Is that really how I seem to you?”

  Sasha stood. “Yes! Is how you seem to everybody! And I seen way Dewbell look at you. And when me and Dewbell slept together—”

  “Wait. You slept with Dewbell?”

  “Yes. One time. And I am nice guy, okay? And when she—” A throat cleared and the rest of Sasha’s sentence died on his lips.

  Gentlewave stood nearby with his arms folded. Dewbell was next to him, cheeks pink and eyes burning. She marched up to Sasha, signing angrily.

  Gentlewave said, “Sasha, Dewbell says she knows you have the best of intentions, but you need to mind your own business because she’s a grown woman. If she has a problem, she’ll come to you. And you’ve embarrassed her because you’re telling Corvin private things about you and her that he doesn’t need to know about.”

  “But how she even know we were talking about her?”

  “You weren’t exactly whispering. I told her. Then we walked over here and she saw the rest.”

  Sasha averted his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  Dewbell whirled on Corvin. He leaned away, eyebrows raised. She hauled back and slapped him.

  Sasha put a hand over his mouth. Corvin leapt from his seat, holding his cheek, and Gentlewave took a step forward. Dewbell was resolute, staring back into Corvin’s red, twitching face.

  “You hit me,” Corvin said tightly. He grimaced. “And I swallowed my gum.” He dropped his hand, clenching it into a fist. “Why did you hit me?”

  Dewbell signed and Gentlewave said, “She doesn’t appreciate veiled threats against people she loves.”

  Corvin glowered. “Don’t be irrational, woman. You can’t really believe that I would do anything—”

  Dewbell slapped him again. Sasha flinched. For once, someone is getting smacked more than me.

  Corvin’s mouth parted and he took a step back, bumping into a slot machine. “I—I’m sorry.”

  She set her mouth firmly and signed again.

  Gentlewave translated. “Corvin, Dewbell can see the good in people. She says there’s good in you. But if she has to slap the jerkiness out of you to find it, she will.”

  Corvin shook his head rapidly. “No. I’m sorry.” His attention turned to Sasha. “I’m sorry I threatened you… But I really think what you asked me isn’t any of your business.”

  “Yeah, probably not.” Sasha rubbed his arm and shifted hi
s feet. “Sorry, Corvin. Sorry, Dewbell.”

  Dewbell’s eyes darted from Sasha to Corvin, then back again. She nodded in satisfaction then stepped to Sasha, hugged him, and kissed his forehead. He grinned.

  As Dewbell turned back to Corvin, he put up his arms, shielding his face. Pulling them down gently, she pushed up on her toes, pressing her lips to Corvin’s assaulted, red cheek. He sucked in a breath.

  After she turned away and signed, Gentlewave chuckled and put an arm around her. “She says, ‘behave yourselves, boys.’”

  There was a sigh. Dusty leaned against a machine with an irritated smile, shaking her head at Sasha.

  Corvin had a hand to his face, watching Dewbell walk away. He collapsed into the swivel chair and picked up his magazine, but didn’t open it, opting to stare into the floor instead. “Sasha, Dewbell ever slap you?”

  “Yep. Kiss me after, too. After I say sorry.”

  “What did you do to make her mad?”

  “Being drunk douchebag. But you know what she say to me? If I got problem and need help, go talk to her anytime. And I never drink again after that. I think she want to help you too.”

  Corvin crossed his long legs and put a hand on his chin. His cheek was still an angry crimson. The rain made a soft, repetitive pat into the carpet. Sasha looked around, unsure of what else to say.

  Dusty walked between them and held up a pack of cards. “Um… You guys want to play a game?”

  Audio File 29|November 09, 2172|Length: 01:46

  We are finally out of corn fields. Thank God. Never going to eat corn or look at corn for rest of my life. Been walking through real junky area now. Lot of city ruins and garbage. Right now, we are sitting at train station. There is busted train outside little building we are in. Gentlewave say he don’t like how this area look, so he went ahead to check things out. I tell him I can fly drone around and look at stuff, but he say he don’t trust technology, and want to walk. Dusty go with him. I don’t understand this girl. She really like doing this escort thing, carrying gun and following Gentlewave around. She even shaved her head again. But last week when we were in casino, she was talking about how she want normal life like housewife in movies. Cooking borscht and dumpling, waiting for husband to come home.

  She said maybe being escort is better because if money not going to help her forget who she used to be, she don’t even want to try for normal life. I feel bad because she don’t know anything different. She try all her life to get money, just because she think she need to do that, and now she don’t know what she wants to do with her life.

  And Dewbell and Corvin been giving paper notes to each other like kids in classroom. Don’t know what is up with that, but I’m not going to ask or Dewbell probably going to get mad again. Going to mind my— um…

  Hey, Sasha. Who you talking to?

  Oh. Hey, Corvin. I am making audio-diary. You never seen me do this?

  I guess not. That’s cool, though. I was just out back, checking things out. There’s a mummified cat in a dumpster out there. I’d love to draw a picture of it, but I’ve used most of my paper chatting with Dewbell. You don’t have any paper, do you?

  No. I just use tablet for everything. And besides, why you walking around by yourself? That’s what you got escorts for. Supposed to stay with us to be safe. [Pause] Where is Dewbell?

  She said she was going to lay down because she had a headache.

  Sasha hit the stop button on his tablet and set it beside him.

  Corvin leaned against the wall, a small smile on his face. “You were right about her. Whenever I’m not feeling quite right, I talk to Dewbell and she makes me feel great. I’m hoping I have the same effect on her.”

  Sasha gave Corvin a sidelong glance. “Why you talking to me about this? You want to start argument with me?”

  “No. Not at all. I think we all came to an understanding, right? You don’t ask me personal questions, I don’t act like a jerk, and we both let Dewbell make her own decisions. Doesn’t mean we can’t bring her up in conversation, though, right?”

  “I guess.”

  Dusty pushed through the front door of the building, looking unhappy, followed by Gentlewave. She made a beeline for Sasha and climbed into his lap.

  Sasha held her. “Whoa. Hey, baby. What’s going on?”

  “Bridges,” she muttered into his neck.

  “What?”

  A hard scowl was chiseled into Gentlewave’s face. He glanced back at the front door. “Where’s Dewbell?”

  “She’s laying down because she has a headache.” Corvin’s brows pulled together. “Want me to get her?”

  “Is she in that back room? We all need to be in there. Come on.” Gentlewave made a stand-up gesture with his hands.

  Dusty climbed out of Sasha’s lap and he stood. They all followed Gentlewave around a moss-flocked ticket booth and past the restrooms, into a storage room at the back of the building. Dewbell lay on her sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling with one arm tossed over her forehead. She sat up as they approached. Corvin sat cross-legged beside her.

  Sasha leaned against a metal shelf lined with moldering suitcases and disintegrating wooden boxes, pulling Dusty into an embrace.

  Gentlewave shut the door behind him and crossed his arms. Diffused light filtered in through a hole in the roof, falling across the hard lines on his dark face.

  “I’m not one to mince words. We’ve got problems.” Gentlewave looked at the floor for a moment, then continued. “There’s a river ahead. It goes north, then curves to the east.” He cupped his hand into a “c.” “There’re two bridges nearby, but one is really degraded. It might hold our weight, might not. It’s probably too risky to cross. On top of that, Dusty is apparently terrified of bridges.”

  Dusty looked at her boots, frowning.

  Forgot about that. Sasha gave her a squeeze. “I had to carry Dusty over bridge one time. Could do again. Can we go over other one?”

  “That’s the second problem,” Gentlewave replied. “The other bridge is guarded by highwaymen. And nearby is a big encampment of them.”

  Corvin made a small noise in his throat. He blinked several times, swallowed, and pulled his mouth tight. “Then we go straight east. Or southeast, back the way we came.”

  “Can’t.” Gentlewave held his hand in a “c” again and brought up his other in a mirrored shape. “The river curves to the northeast, and the highwayman camp curves to the southwest. Can’t go back because… they’re on the road behind us now too. We’re stuck in the middle of a shit-circle.”

  Corvin’s lip quivered, eyes taking on a glossy sheen.

  “Why don’t I just shoot them with drone? I can fly to guys in south, kill them, then we go back that way,” Sasha suggested.

  Gentlewave’s face was grim. “There’re a lot of them. I think that would just alert the rest. Better to not draw suspicion to ourselves. I don’t know if they’ve been following us—herding us toward this bridge—or if it’s just a coincidence. Either way, I’ve screwed up big time. Lucky was always the one in charge of routes. I thought I knew what I was doing, but…” He sighed. “We have another option besides the degraded bridge—”

  Dewbell signed.

  “Can’t,” Gentlewave said. “It’s too turbulent to swim—”

  “I don’t know how to swim anyway,” Dusty added.

  Gentlewave nodded. “And I don’t feel comfortable trying to build a raft or something like that, with the highwaymen—”

  Corvin was shaking his head. “This can’t happen. I can’t—I can’t go with them again. I can’t.” He turned to Dewbell and gripped her shirt sleeve, eyes pleading. “Don’t let them take me. Please. Please don’t—”

  Dewbell put one arm around Corvin’s shoulders and patted his leg.

  A tear rolled down Corvin’s cheek, taking some of his eyeblack along with it. His voice was watery and an octave higher than normal. “I’d rather be dead than have to—to—” He turned to Gentlewave. “I have more money. Y
ou can have all of it. Just please, don’t let them take me. Don’t give me to them. I can’t go back to that. Please don’t give me to them.”

  “Why would we give you to the highwaymen, Corvin? You paid us to protect you. And there’s no need to panic,” Gentlewave said. “We can go under the highwaymen bridge. There’s a cement arch on the underside and some broken girders we can go across to get to the other side. But the highwaymen are on top, so we’re going to have to be really sneaky to get by without anyone—”

  Corvin let out a sob, then slapped a shaking hand over his mouth. The terror in his eyes made Sasha’s heart hurt and gave him an itch of his own. Should he be as panicked as Corvin? No one else was acting that way.

  “Hey, you okay?” Sasha asked. “Take deep breath.”

  Another tear fell onto Corvin’s cheek.

  “It’ll be okay,” Dusty ventured in a small voice. She pulled from Sasha’s embrace and hesitantly patted Corvin on the shoulder. “It’s a big bridge. They won’t see us if we’re quiet.”

  He looked up at her. “You won’t give me to the highwaymen, will you, Dusty? I know you don’t like me that much, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  “No. Of course not. No one is going to let you get captured, or let anything else happen to you.”

  Corvin’s trembling hand closed around Dusty’s. “The people I was with before—when I was sixteen—they gave me to the highwaymen.” Dusty’s tanned face grew pale. Corvin looked at Gentlewave. “Can—can I have a gun? Please? Or a knife?”

  “You don’t need a weapon,” Gentlewave replied. “You won’t have to kill anyone. Hopefully none of us will, but you won’t be involved in any fighting.”

  Corvin whispered. “Not for the highwaymen… For me. Just in case.”

  Sasha dragged his hands down his face. “Everybody going to be okay. We are team, yeah? Protect each other. And Dewbell, she is best at taking care. You should… stick with her. She take care of you.” He hated to push Dewbell and Corvin closer together, but if anyone could make him feel better, it was her.