by A.L. Bridges
Chapter 22: Jewelry can be Messy
‘It’s amazing what you will notice about someone that you consider a little sister, and therefore not really a girl, once they’ve had their tongue in your mouth.’ I think the next morning as I watch Cheza bend over to pick up a spoon that she dropped.
“Tia, you and I need to talk about something,” I whisper to Tia.
“I agree. Let’s go into the basement,” Tia whispers back. We walk down to our usual area and sit on the benches.
“I want to be angry, but I just can’t. Your prank was too damn elaborate this time,” I admit.
“What…? Oh right, the lingerie thing. So how was it? The sex with Chezarei?” Tia asks.
“What? I didn’t have sex with her!” I reply.
“Wait, let me get this straight. She had you handcuffed to your bed, completely defenseless, and nothing happened?” Tia asks incredulously and I think back to last night.
“Ah, so something did happen,” Tia says with a sly smile. My expression must have given me away…
“Good! I feel this partially makes up for the complete mess I made of her first opportunity,” Tia adds.
“What!?” I shout as I rise to my feet. “You guys had me convinced that that was all a dream! Why!?”
“Well, Chezarei was embarrassed and you gave her an easy way out. I went with it so I wouldn’t embarrass her further,” Tia replies.
“What did you do with the sweater I was going to give to her?” I ask.
“I gave it to her instead. She seemed to like it. You did a good job. Anyway, on to what I need you to talk to me about: the thing last night in the car,” Tia says.
“Right. Well, it started yesterday while I was napping. I had this dream where I was talking with my Drive through a large silver door in an area covered in darkness. He told me that he wasn’t the same as Airi—that’s what I call the voice that whispered in my head that I told you about before. Well, yesterday when we were in the car, this sentence suddenly flashed in my mind in a similar fashion to turning on a neon sign in complete darkness,” I tell her.
“What was the sentence?” Tia asks, looking and sounding worried.
“No drooling on the birthday girl,” I reply.
“Hahaha! I think I like this Airi!” Tia exclaims and then regains her composure. “However, that is technically her telling you to do something. We need to be really careful, Cole.”
“Yeah about that, I had this other dream last night and this girl told me that danger was coming and to be ready for a fight… possibly. Airi told me to tell you about this last night when I was searching for an excuse to stop Cheza’s advances for the night,” I tell her.
“Hmm…” Tia thinks about this information for a moment. “Training. We need you to be ready, just in case. Also, I want you to take six magazines to your room, and take your gun and Sic blade there every day after training. Grab a 25 round JHP magazine and two 20 round JHP magazines, along with a 25 round WFNGC magazine and two 20 round WFNGC magazines. You need something to carry all this stuff if you need to go into battle… I’ll have Sara see what she can do. Alright, let’s get to work. We need you to be faster, stronger, and we also need to lower your reaction times.”
I spend the rest of the day having Tia beat the crap out of me. I have never been gladder that my body heals quickly.
…
[May 17th]
“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” I say to Tia during our break.
“I’m guessing that Loki has known about Cheza for ten years, assuming that Eric had heard that Loki would be going for this girl so he went there first to explain the situation and relocate her family. Only, he arrived too late to save her parents so he killed Loki’s agents, took the cowering little girl from her hiding place, and brought her home with him and said, ‘I got you a little sister while I was out, Cole! Take care of her and oh, when you realize what you are in ten years, protect her so the world doesn’t end. Thanks!’” I sarcastically exclaim.
“So what’s your question?” Tia asks.
“Oh, right. If Loki has known about Cheza for so long, why hasn’t he come for her before?” I ask.
“Simply? Because he didn’t know where she was, but that changed with Illapa’s treason. The more complicated version? I think that Loki knew where she was all along. Had he truly needed Chezarei, he would have come for her right then. No, I think something is up. He left Chezarei here on purpose because it either didn’t interfere with his goals, or it furthered them somehow. Trickster gods are… well, tricky. I should know. I dated Coyote for a while and he was always pulling tricks in bed, like the ‘Let’s leave the lights off,’ and then ‘It’s so dark that I accidentally stuck it in the wrong hole, my bad!’” Tia exclaims, finishing her rant. Something suddenly dawns on me that I’ve never considered before.
“Did Uncle Eric tell you to train me in close quarters combat because he knew that I would need these skills someday? Did he start teaching me about swords and fencing when I was ten because he knew I would be needed to protect Cheza? Is that the reason he set her up to be like a little sister to me? So I would have a stronger connection to her and thus be a better protector?” I ask as these questions just overflow from my mind.
“Once you start thinking like that, paranoia will take over your life, Cole. Eric wanted me to train you so you could defend yourself and so you wouldn’t get fat and lazy like the majority of America’s youth,” Tia replies.
Sara comes in before I can ask about the other questions.
“Cole, your jacket is all done, come try it on,” Sara says.
I jog over to her and try it on. The moment I do, it clings to me no matter which way I twist or bend. I raise my arms up and I find that it’s limiting my motion a bit, but the second I think that, the plates adjust to slide down my arm as needed. I rotate both my arms in full circles to test it. The plates still cling, but they do so while sliding. Now my motion is only limited by the jacket itself.
“Tia helped me with the design and had the forethought to attach the plates to an inner layer sewn into the jacket. That way, if the jacket gets shot full of holes, we don’t have to start all over. All we have to do is cut out the inner layer and sew it onto a new jacket. I even managed to fix the zipper,” Sara tells me with a prideful look on her face.
“This is awesome, Sara! You’re amazing, really,” I say while zipping up the jacket, finding that the plates on either side overlap behind the zipper to provide coverage. Sara was doing one of those ‘Oh, stop!’ things that really means for you to keep going with compliments, when Tia screams:
“HEY COLE! THINK FAST!”
As I turn, I take a war hammer to my chest. I fly and hit the opposite wall thirty feet away. Note to self: concrete walls are not your friends. The jacket cushions my blow against the hammer pretty well, but the air is still knocked out of me and it feels like one or two of my ribs have cracked.
(Six and sternum. These will be mended by morning) Airi says.
“…Thank you, Airi,” I think.
I was able to fortify my neck as I sailed through the air so my head didn’t hit the wall, rendering me unconscious. I slide down the length of the wall, and hit the floor.
“TIA! WHAT THE HELL!?” Sara shouts.
“What? We had to test it somehow and bullets would have ruined the jacket!” Tia expounds.
“I’M ALRIGHT*cough*… PROBABLY!” I yell across the room from my position slumped against the wall, my chest hurting slightly from yelling.
“WHAT IF THE JACKET HADN’T WORKED!?” Sara asks.
“Oh a hit like that would have turned a normal man into paste… but I was confident in your skills as a seamstress…” Tia replies with uncertainty in her voice.
“HOW MANY RIBS ARE BROKEN?” Tia yells to me.
“NONE!” I answer.
“There, you see!? He’s fi—” Tia starts to say.
“BUT AIRI TELLS ME THAT SIX ARE CRACKED *Cough* AS WELL AS
MY STERNUM!” I shout back, interrupting Tia.
“There, you see… that’s only a quarter of his ribs…” Tia says to Sara, looking downtrodden.
“And his sternum,” Sara reminds Tia with a stern tone.
“And his sternum… Okay, so maybe I went a little overboard… TRAINING IS DONE FOR TODAY COLE! DO YOU NEED HELP UP?” Tia yells.
“NO…” I answer, not entirely sure of myself. I try to stand using the wall for support, but my ribs are yelling in disagreement as they force me to slide back down.
“…YES,” I shout back, much surer this time around. Tia and Sara walk over and help me stand.
“Oh, before I forget, I finished your holster,” Sara says. “Come try it on and tell me what you think.”
Sara runs upstairs as Tia supports me up them with one arm while holding my Sic blade and gun in the other hand. Sara meets us in the living room, holding the holster in her hands. It’s a synthetic fiber holster with two straps and a pouch at the bottom (so that it looks like a D and its reflection) that she has me put on like a backpack. There are two of my discs on the back (one where the straps meet between my shoulder blades and another at mid back level) and two on the pouch. Great, now she’s using them as friggin’ magnets. The strip of material that leads down the center of my back has a strap for my Sic blade that is slanted so that the handle will be over my right shoulder. The pouch has a holster for my gun on the left side.
“This is great Sara, but where do magazines go?” I inquire.
“That’s what the pouch is for,” She answers.
“What about different types of rounds?” I ask.
“…Well put them in your pants pocket or something, I don’t know! Look, I’ll work on another one when I find the time, but this will work for now, right?” Sara asks with minor annoyance.
“Of course. Thank you for everything Sara! I’d hug you, but I’m pretty sure that action would be quite painful at the moment,” I tell her.
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed doing it. It has been a really long time since you’ve come to me for help. I was starting to miss it,” Sara smiles at me.
I look at the clock. “Sara, don’t you have to pick up Cheza?”
“No, Rei said she was going to get a ride from some friends because they were going somewhere,” Sara responds.
Just then, Cheza comes through the front door, home from her last day of school and excited about graduation tomorrow, as well as her subsequent grad party. She goes into her room, and then comes back out wearing jean shorts and a yellow tank top. Cheza starts heading for the door, saying that her friends are waiting in the driveway.
“Bye Cole!” Cheza says while excitedly giving me a hug.
I try really hard to keep it together, but six cracked ribs can make a pretty loud objection when they’re squeezed tightly. So, despite my best efforts, I flinch, causing Cheza to quickly pull away.
“Cole? What’s wrong?” Cheza asks, looking concerned.
“Nothing, I’m fine. Go have fun with your friends,” I tell her while trying to smile, but ending with a grimace.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” Cheza says, the level of her voice increasing.
“Cheza, nothing is wrong!” I reply, standing firm.
“Well, alright… Bye!” Cheza exclaims while moving in for another hug.
I really should have seen this next part coming from the moment that she agreed with me, but I didn’t notice until I was hugging her back. She starts squeezing really hard.
(If this continues, one of your ribs will break from the strain)
“THANK YOU, AIRI!” I shout sarcastically. Cheza jumps back, startled.
“Airi? WHO IN THE HELL IS AIRI!?” Cheza screams.
“The voice in his head,” Tia answers while being the epitome of nonchalance.
“I’m guessing it said something about ribs breaking?” Tia asks while looking to me for confirmation. I nod in response.
“Voice in his head!? Ribs breaking!? WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON!?” Cheza screams, completely hysterical.
“I gave Cole his newly armored jacket and Tia wanted to run a field test without ruining the jacket with gunfire so she grabbed a war hammer and hit Cole in the chest so hard that he flew into the wall thirty feet away, cracking six ribs and his sternum in the process,” Sara bluntly states.
Cheza just looks at Sara in shock until she slowly recovers, silently takes my hand, and leads me to my bedroom. She helps me take off my jacket, hangs it on the door, and points to my bed, indicating that I should lie down in it, before she leaves my room and shuts the door. I focus on enhancing my hearing and listen as Cheza walks out the door and over to her friend’s car.
“Sorry, you guys. My brother cracked six ribs and his sternum a little while ago so I’m going to stay here and take care of him,” Cheza says.
“No problem, Rei, but before you go, who’s Airi?” one of Cheza’s friends asks. I assume she is the one driving because of her leader-esque speech pattern and the leader is usually the driver.
There are a few seconds of silence before Cheza says, “The reason six of his ribs are cracked,” sounding slightly louder than before, indicating that she had been walking away as she said it.
Her tone was the sort of tone that she would use if I was her boyfriend and she had just caught me cheating on her, causing her to go to town on my ribs with a baseball bat.
“See you guys tomorrow at the ceremony!” Cheza cheerfully exclaims before entering the house.
“Man, that is so totally not irie,” a second friend of Cheza’s says, making a pun.
“Oh, so you know her?” a third friend asks, completely missing the pun.
Cheza walks into my room with a large glass of lemonade.
“Drink,” she says handing me the glass.
Cheza’s tone frightens me. I think she might have snapped. I suddenly get this image in my head of me, bound and gagged to my bed as Cheza sticks a 2x4 in between my ankles, raises a sledgehammer over her left shoulder, and takes a swing. I do as she says and drink because I like my ankles being in their current, not-broken state. 5
I set the glass on the night stand and then Cheza throws her arms around my neck.
‘Oh Gods, can this really be the end!?’ I think.
(Cease your melodramatic tendencies)
I’m about to snap at Airi when I feel droplets hit my right cheek and ear.
“Please,” Cheza whispers into my right ear.
“Please, stop this… Or you’re going to die… and it will be my fault…” Cheza quietly sobs.
“Cheza, my death will never be your fault… and I promise that I’m not going to die anytime soon,” I reply as I wrap my arms around her.
(Actually, the chances of your mortality—
“I don’t want to hear it Airi! I’m trying to delude myself so I won’t feel like I’ve lied to Cheza!” I think loudly.
“Really?” Cheza says, sniffling as she pulls back to look at me. “I didn’t realize the man I love is immortal…”
“YEEEES! BOW DOWN BEFORE ME, PUNY MORTAL!” I shout.
(I think you are missing the important part… master)
“Not now, Genie.”
“Ooh can I join? I love this role-play!” Tia exclaims while barging into my room with a huge grin. When she sees us, Tia’s grin changes to a look of profound disappointment before she sighs heavily while hanging her head and trundles out the door.
“Well, if you need anything, just text me,” Cheza says, looking away in embarrassment as she gets up to leave the room.
“Hey Cheza, this is something I’ve wondered for a long time: why do you have everybody from school call you Rei? Do you dislike it that I call you Cheza?” I ask and then I realize that this might give away my extrasensory hearing… I really hope it doesn’t.
“No… you’re just the only one that gets to call me Cheza,” Cheza quietly replies without turning around and then she leaves
, closing the door behind her. That actually makes me feel kind of special.
I watch TV for a while, but that gets boring quickly so I turn it off, close my eyes, and start eavesdropping. Cheza is in the living room watching TV, Sara is in her room on a sewing machine, and Tia is in the shower. I stop my hearing there and I’m about to shut it down when I hear, “Ah… Cole… ah… ah… Cooole… mmm!” in a high pitched, sultry voice. No way… she’s not… I listen in a while longer to, you know, confirm that I’m mistaken.
“Cooooooole! …What have I told you about eavesdropping Cole?” Tia says in her normal voice. I know she’s been fucking with me the whole time when she starts laughing. She really had me going there for a moment, but how did she know I was listening?
Cheza’s phone rings and my hearing zeros in as she answers.
“Hey Katie, what’s up?” Cheza answers.
“Hey, how’s your brother?” I identify the voice as the girl who was possibly driving.
“He’s better now that I got him to lie down. He’s still an idiot though. Sorry I couldn’t come with you guys,” Cheza replies.
“No you’re not. We all know how much you love your brother, Rei. Is it weird for me to still be calling him your brother or is he something more now?” Katie teasingly asks.
“What!? How do you know about that!?” Cheza asks, practically screeching.
“Please, Rei. I’ve known you for six years and the only boy I’ve ever seen you show even a lick of interest towards is Cole. Plus, you shouted about how you hadn’t gotten a chance to use his dick yet in the middle of a crowded lunch table only an hour after you went off on Mr. Flint, shouting that your brother had been shot and then screamed at your brother that you were going to call him in an hour. We aren’t that dense, Rei. I know your home situation is complicated and he isn’t actually related to you, which is the only reason why I haven’t tried to talk you out of it,” Katie states in a straightforward manner.
“Oh yeah… I had kinda hoped you all had forgotten about that…” Cheza quietly replies.
“By the way, why does your brother get hurt so much?” Katie asks.
“Because he worries about others more than he worries about himself,” Cheza says in a haggard fashion.
“Haha… he sounds like a great guy,” Katie responds.
“Yeah, he is,” Cheza quietly replies.
“Anyway, I need to hang up now. I found a necklace that daddy is getting me as a grad gift in addition to the car!” Katie exclaims.
“Alright see you tomorrow!” Cheza responds and ends the call.
I wish I had something else to give Cheza for graduation…
(You rang, master?)
I laugh out loud. “That was pretty good Airi!” I think to her.
(I try. The answer to your dilemma is to make her something)
“Like what? I haven’t made anything besides weapons.”
(Create jewelry using the same process)
“But black and red isn’t a very good color scheme for Cheza.”
(Pure silicon carbide is clear)
I’m not too sure I can make that, but I’ll give it a shot. I stand up slowly, my ribs protesting with the movement, and walk to the bathroom. After I finish, I lie back down in bed, grab my knife from my bedside table, and hold up my left wrist.
(If done successfully, the draw will likely impede your recovery time until tomorrow afternoon and/or render you unconscious. Do you wish to continue?)
I slice into my left arm as a response. I’m about to start the draw when I realize something: I have no idea how big Cheza’s finger is. Suddenly an image of our hands pressed together flashes in my mind.
(Using the width just above the second knuckle on your little finger as a model would be a smart decision)
I hold my up left little finger and will a pure silicon carbide ring to form just above the second knuckle. I almost break my concentration when blood starts spilling from my fingers and onto my chest.
“Whoa! What’s happening!?” I frantically think.
(The blood is being stripped of its silicon and carbon atoms and then is being expelled)
“What? Why doesn’t this happen when I make blades or discs?” I ask.
(The red blood cells make the red pigment in the center. The water in your blood evaporates when making normal silicon carbide. However, now it is leaving the water alone so it is easier to expel the red blood cells)
I accept Airi’s answer and continue the draw. Five minutes later, the band is almost halfway complete when Airi says (4.3 Liters). I look down and see that a liter of blood has spilled all over my bed.
“Tia, I need you to come over here, but don’t alert Cheza,” I whisper hoping Tia will hear me. I would expand my senses to check, but I feel that it would break my concentration and the ring would fall apart. I wait a few minutes and then I see Tia taking off the screen of my unlocked window. She climbs into my room before she looks at me. She makes eye-contact and nods, understanding the situation. She leaves back through the window. I finish the band (2.8 Liters) and start to work on the gem and bracket.
Shit! A clear gem on a clear ring is just going to look tacky. A black diamond would look nice though. Hey, I solved that one all by myself!
(They grow up so fast) Airi says, even more monotonous than usual.
I stick with pure silicon carbide for the bracket but I throw in iron atoms to add black pigment to the silicon carbide diamond (2.6 Liters). I finally finish the diamond and solidify the ring, for a total time of fifteen minutes.
“Tia, it’s finished,” I quietly announce.
Tia comes in from the window by the time I finish the sentence. I guess she had been waiting out there so she wouldn’t break my concentration. Tia is holding a new set of sheets, even though the mattress is completely unsalvageable, and a 32 ounce Cool Blue Gatorade.
“Here, drink this,” Tia says while tossing the Gatorade.
Tia goes through my dresser and pulls out a new pair of black basketball shorts and a new white t-shirt. I’m glad I wear plain white t-shirts at this moment. I can just throw a new one on and Cheza won’t notice. Tia continues to pull out a pair of light-wash jeans and a hot pink polo. I assume she means for me to wear that ensemble tomorrow. She walks over, takes the ring off my pinky, and puts it in the seed pouch of the front right pocket of the jeans (it’s what that little pocket above the right pocket on jeans was originally for back in the 1800’s).
I see Sara come in through the window with a bunch of cleaning supplies to help with the floor and the mattress, even though I’m pretty sure it’s a lost cause.
“Go take a quick shower and change,” Sara commands.
I do so and by the time I get out, you can barely tell that anyone had just lost several liters of blood in here.
…