Fireflies Glow Only in the Dark

by Ruth Morse

  People were making bets. Everybody seemed to be young, no older than twenty-five, smoking cigarettes and pot and looking effortlessly cool.

  Mel squeezed through the crowd and went directly to the bartender; a chubby, twenty-something-year-old guy in a red bandana with an impressive joint hanging out of his mouth. The second he noticed Mel, his hands flew up in the air and his lips stretched into a pleased smile. They had a little chat. Mel tilted her head to one side, lowering her eyes and slightly pursing her lips. I snorted. It was her favorite Asking for a Favor pose.

  The bartender looked at us thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, then shifted his gaze back to Mel’s innocent face, and finally nodded. Mel clapped her hands. She clung to him, her hands digging into his shorts pockets. She pulled out a heavy keychain, kissed him on the cheek, and waved to me. She came back to us, accompanied by exultant cries and applause. The arm wrestler who was closer to us had won, despite the lack of girth of his arms. He roared, grabbing somebody’s beer and pouring it over his own head. Mel took Max and me by our sleeves and led us forward.

  CHAPTER NINE

  We came to a narrow hallway. The garage had an extension and was much bigger than I originally thought. Mel opened the door at the end of the hallway and let us in. We found ourselves in a spacious room without windows. Mel’s hand fumbled along the wall.

  “Goddamn it, I always forget where they hide this little bastard!”

  Finally she found the light switch. The yellow bulb was pitiful, hanging from the ceiling by tangled wires and emitting a dim flickering light.

  I looked around. A dark wooden table sat in the center of the room. A colorful garland of lights was draped across it. I plopped down in a distressed black leather armchair that emitted a strong smell of bonfire smoke, and switched the garland on. Soft green and red lights reflected off the shiny surfaces of guitars hanging on the walls.

  Max hunkered down near me, unwrapping posters that were thrown on the floor in a huge pile. He took the first poster and looked at it closely. A smile lit up his face. I glanced over his shoulder; it was a Nirvana poster.

  “What is this place?” Max asked with admiration in his voice.

  “This is a holy temple for all young souls,” Mel replied. “The guys who own this place hope to become a real band. Look what they’ve got here.”

  She pulled away a sheet and revealed a white bass drum. Max whistled, amazed.

  “The bar’s kinda profitable,” Mel continued, putting the sheet back carefully. “Everybody knows this place. We can do whatever we want without needing fake ID’s. The guys don’t spend their earnings. They’re saving it for the band. They even perform sometimes.”

  She walked to the far corner of the room and stopped in front of a locker. Her fingers fumbled with the keychain for a while until she found the right key. “Screw these stupid ID’s. They’re so boring. Besides, we don’t buy. We enjoy the gifts. Tequila, whiskey, or rum?” she said busily, fingering the bottles.

  “Whiskey, please,” Max replied.

  “Is there anything a little weaker?” I asked.

  “You’re in a rocker’s lair, baby! You’re lucky I didn’t offer you cocaine!” Mel exclaimed, laughing.

  “Do you have some?” Max asked.

  Mel paused for a long minute and then extended her hand. A pouch filled with white powder rested in her open palm.

  Max clapped his hands. “I already adore these guys.” He chuckled.

  “And already I doubt if I truly know you, Mel,” I said, looking at her with my eyes wide open.

  She gave me her innocent smile. “C’mon, I didn’t even try it,” she purred.

  I breathed a sigh of relief but then she continued, “… yet.”

  “You’re hopeless,” I groaned.

  “And you worry too much.” She laughed, flopping down onto a shabby sofa.

  Max poured the amber liquid into three tumblers.

  “For the meeting and for the beautiful night,” Mel proclaimed and drank the whiskey in one gulp.

  Мax looked at me with smiling eyes. He took a breath to say something but then his face changed. He raised his glass to his lips and followed Mel’s cue.

  The whiskey burned my throat. I peered at the little red light which was the closest to me. It looked like it was separate from the main garland, its red glow shining right into my eyes, expanding and tapering as if it was living its own life. It felt like the light wanted to show me something. I looked at it closely but then accidentally blinked. The illusion disappeared. The red light still flickered due to some defect in the garland, but I felt nothing. I closed my eyes.

  Mel turned on the radio. The soft music saturated the air. The alcohol already started to kick in, making my legs and arms heavy but at the same time causing them respond instantly, if not excessively, to my every move.

  “Tell us about yourself, Max,” Mel said, breaking the silence. She sat cross-legged, hugging the bottle of whiskey. In the soft lighting, her hair glowed a light red.

  “What would you like to hear?” Max asked.

  “First thing that pops into your head.”

  Max shrugged. “Well, It’s warm here. I like being in small company, just like now,” he said with a smile. After a little hesitation, he added, “I always wanted to get my freedom, but now all I really want is to tie myself to this place and just… stay. I feel nice here.”

  “Well, nothing prevents you from staying here, right?” Mel asked.

  “I guess so. It’s funny how nothing prevents me from being anywhere at all. And that’s what bothers me.”

  We drank a few tumblers more and my thoughts slowly began to pulse, just like that red light that didn’t get a chance to share its secret with me. “I guess it was hard for you,” I murmured.

  “What?” Mel asked.

  I nodded at Max. “Driving alone with all the possible places you could go with no one to wait for you,” I said, not choosing my words carefully and just repeating the thoughts that were floating around in my mind.

  Max glanced at me thoughtfully. He took a deep breath, leaned back on his chair, and said, “You’re right. Although I found someone who cares. I wouldn’t be here talking to you if not for them.”

  “Tell us about it,” I asked.

  Max shifted his gaze back to the tumbler, his long fingers wrapping around the glass. The answer was accompanied by his sad smile. “After a few months of wandering, I ran out of money. A few days later I ran out of food and that’s when it became difficult to handle. I settled down in a small town. You wouldn’t even find it with the most accurate map. I was looking for a job, but no one was interested in hiring an unknown guy. Two days I ate Ramen noodles. After that I ate nothing.” He took a big gulp of whiskey. “Hunger is an interesting feeling. All the problems you had simply disappear as long as you keep thinking about where to find food. Anything except food becomes unnecessary, a stupid whim.”

  “Gosh,” I whispered.

  Max gave me his soft half smile.

  “It’s not as bad as you think,” he said. “I was lucky. In a cafe, while the owner was explaining to me why I shouldn’t be wasting my time looking for a job in this town, a little girl came out of the staff room. I could swear she’d heard our conversation perfectly.

  “I was on my way to the exit when she cried, ‘Wait!’ She pulled the owner over to her by the hem of his shirt. He bent down and she whispered something in his ear. The whole picture was rather funny, this huge man bending in half and paying attention to the little girl talking to him with such a businesslike face.” He smiled at his memories and continued, “ ‘You’re going to work with Daddy,’ she said to me. I looked at the owner, and he motioned behind the bar.

  “He gave me some chicken soup. Honestly, I haven’t ever eaten anything more delicious. They gave me food and a job. They saved me. That’s how I was no longer alone.” Max finished his story rather sharply and poured more whiskey into our tumblers.

  As he talked, I cou
ldn’t shift my glance away from his thin shoulders. So that’s why he’s so skinny.

  “What was his name?” I asked, feeling cold inside.

  “Jack. Jack Olson,” he replied.

  “And the girl?”

  Max paused. “Lily, his daughter. We were close,” he said. His left hand reached for his right wrist and covered the bracelet. Scarlet and green beads jingled softly in the silence.

  I wanted to ask him more, but Mel interrupted me with a long, loud yawn. “Hey, guys,” she said, rising up from the sofa. “No offense, Max, your story’s awesome, but if we don’t play any games, I’ll fall asleep.”

  Max laughed. “I’m sorry to bore you. Let’s play a game,” he said.

  “You don’t bore me. I drank too much to just sit and talk, you know.” Mel put her hands up apologetically.

  “Yeah, we all did. What about Truth or Dare?” Max said.

  “No, no, no…” My voice sounded nervous even to my own ears. “Not on my watch.”

  “And why is that?” he asked.

  I glanced at Mel. Her eyes were full of mischievous sparkles. Shit.

  “It’s a silly game that makes no sense. It’s not even a competition,” I said.

  Mel approached me and patted my shoulder, nodding mockingly at my words.

  “Looks like someone played a little too often.” Max chuckled.

  “Actually, I’ve never played it.”

  Max raised his eyebrows. “Not even once?”

  “It’s true,” Mel said, leaning on my armchair. “Even when everybody else was playing, including me, she never joined.” Mel stood up and rummaged through the locker. “There has to be cards here somewhere… Got them! Okay, we have cards now. What’s next?”

  “I have an idea.” Max glanced at me with a smile and leaned back on his chair leisurely. “You have your principles and I respect that. We won’t play Truth or Dare. We’ll play a random card game instead. Whatever game you want. You said you wanted a competition.” He raised his tumbler in my direction. “The winner will dare the loser to do something.”

  “Excellent!” Mel cried, clapping her hands.

  “But…” I was about to object, but seeing Mel’s teasing grin, I resigned. “I’m in.”

  I didn’t know any card games, so we played the simplest one; we flipped cards and watched for the highest suit. The player with the highest suit grabbed everybody else’s cards and continued the next round. The winner had to collect the most cards and make a dare for the loser with the least amount of cards. It would have been boring, but the whisky bottle was nearly empty.

  The first round started. I flipped my card: two of clubs. Why was I not surprised?

  “Max, you won. Make a dare,” Mel said, looking disappointedly at the small pile of cards scattered in front of her.

  Max put our cards back in the deck and shuffled it. He looked at me, his face serious and thoughtful. His green eyes were almost black in the dim red lighting. A smile touched his lips but then he shook his head.

  “Mmm.” He bit his lower lip. “No, not that.”

  “C’mon!” Mel groaned. “I want to make dares too!”

  Max nodded and turned to me. “Tell us about your biggest dream. But think carefully. It has to be the real deal, not some ordinary thing you can get tomorrow. Something you want to live for,” he said.

  “That sounds a lot like a truth question, and we’re not playing Truth or Dare.” I tried to buy some time before giving my answer. I already knew it. It was hard to forget something that gnawed at you constantly with teeth of shame and dissatisfaction.

  I shifted my glance to Mel. She smiled at me reassuringly, taking my hand and slightly squeezing it.

  “The biggest wish I have is to become… a writer.”

  The room fell silent.

  “Have you already written something?” Max said.

  “Yeah, but it’s nothing—”

  “C’mon, don’t be a pussy,” Mel interrupted. “What you wrote is nice!”

  “It’s old and stupid,” I said. “I was just a stupid kid.”

  “It’s beautiful and you’re just a pussy.”

  Max fixed his gaze on me. He frowned for a moment but then his face brightened. He gave me a warm smile. I wish I could take a picture of it. It was the kind of smile that promised you understanding, gave you justification in the face of your most terrifying fears that only someone who genuinely cared could give. “I know you’ll be a great writer, Lana,” he said thoughtfully. And I believed him.

  Mel shifted her glance from me to Max then back to me. Her lips stretched into a knowing smile. “Seems like now you’ll write your story for the contest much faster,” she purred and stretched her hand to take the next card.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Bright sunbeams slid across my face. I opened my eyes but then hurried to shut them again—the light blinded me every time the curtain swayed in the breeze.

  The room was quiet. I lay in silence, watching splashes of sunlight dance on the wall. My eyes caught a poster of some band that Mel so lovingly covered with her red lipstick kisses. In the sunlight, the kisses looked bright like scarlet blood.

  I had no idea how I got into Mel’s room. The moment I tried to think about it, my head started to throb. My mouth was dry. All I wished for in that moment was a tall glass of cold, sparkling water. Groaning, I tried to sit up on my elbows but had to give up—the distinct pain in my stomach disrupted my plans.

  How much did we drink last night?

  My hand fumbled for something. A sleepy murmur came from behind me. I forgot about the pain and turned around sharply; Mel lay next to me, snoring and smiling in her sleep like a serene child. Thank God it’s her.

  I stood up slowly and checked my bag. Everything was in its place. I turned on my phone. No missed calls, no new messages. Weird. I opened WhatsApp and everything became even weirder.

  Valar Morghulis, Dad. GOT is already out and it’s dooope!! I’ll sleep over at Mel’s. XOXO.

  What the hell was that?

  I grabbed Mel by the shoulder and shook her.

  “Mmm,” she murmured, throwing a pillow at me.

  “You can sleep later but now I need explanations!”

  Mel glanced at me, frowning. Her eyes burned with indignation, as did mine.

  “Good morning to you, too,” she said gruffly.

  “How did we end up at your place? Why don’t I remember anything?” I cried.

  “You don’t remember anything?” Mel repeated.

  I shook my head.

  Mel groaned one more time and kicked aside the blanket. “All right then.” She took the hairband from the nightstand and gathered her hair into a ponytail. “We played cards. Max lost and I dared him to touch his elbow with his tongue. It was nuts!”

  “Yes, I remember that,” I said, involuntarily smiling. That busy, serious look on Max’s face while he was trying to lick his elbow was unforgettable. “What happened next?”

  “And then you lost. And I won again. I dared you to drink The Magic Cocktail—”

  “What… Oh, Jesus!” My mouth burned with the horrible taste of that explosive mixture Mel generously dubbed The Magic Cocktail. “Mel, how could you do that to me?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think a whiskey-rum-tequila mix would hit you that hard. Besides, I was drunk myself. How can you blame me for something a poor drunk woman did?”

  I looked at her, speechless. Mel glanced at me with a roguish smile and added, “It was worth it, you know. You were nothing but charming.”

  “What did I do?” I groaned, falling back on the bed and burying my face in the pillows. The headache was nothing compared to my shame.

  “Nothing bad or stupid.” Mel approached me and laid her hands on my shoulders, giving me a light massage. “You grew to like our game and dared Max to hug you. Even though we had already stopped playing.”

  “And?” I whispered, feeling blood rush to my face.

  “And he did. And then h
e put you to sleep. Actually, I have to apologize to him too. He was so mad at me and my stupid dare. But let me tell you one more thing!” Mel stopped rubbing my shoulders and brought her face to my ear. “I’ve never seen anyone take care of someone the way he cared for you last night. I didn’t know a guy could be that sweet.”

  “You’re saying that just so I’ll be less pissed at you.” I snorted, pushing her off my back.

  Mel jumped aside. “I’m dead serious here,” she said. “He worried about you so much. I almost thought he was going to lift you up and carry you home in his arms. Jeez, this guy definitely has a crush on you! Ask him yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  “Oh, yeah, I certainly will,” I grumbled.

  “If you’re wondering why you didn’t wake up surrounded by your angry parents, I texted your dad a little excuse…”

  I hardly heard Mel. I was too busy thinking about Max. I tried to weave my scattered memories together, going over and over last night. Damn memory! Shut down the moment I needed it most.

  “So, you said goodbye to your boyfriend—”

  “He’s not my boyfriend,” I interrupted quickly.

  “Yeah, whatever you say. And then we came to my room, I helped you to change, and we got a good night’s sleep. Now here you are, looking at me so seriously, not giving a damn about my hangover, and wanting to hit me with something hard.”

  “If I really wanted to, you’d be already sitting there with a bruise,” I said with a faint smile.

  Mel flung her hands up. “Finally, my Foxy has come back from the world of depression! How was your journey? Not very rosy, I assume? You woke me up with such a scared look on your face I thought maybe we messed around last night,” she said.

  “Stop it, or I’ll reconsider my decision not to hit you,” I said, trying to stifle a giggle.

  I climbed under the blanket and pulled it over my head. My eyelids felt so heavy, but the pain in my stomach wouldn’t allow me to sleep. I pulled my hand out from under the pillows and shook it in the air. “I’ll forgive you for everything if you bring me my phone,” I said.