by Micah Thomas
“Baby skin, my man. I don’t want to recognize myself.”
Thelon and Henry sat in reclining chairs and allowed themselves to be worked on, wrapped in steamed cloths, scalps and shoulders massaged, aroma therapy bubbling up mist around the room. Jazz played at a low volume and the friends both laughed and sighed, thoroughly enjoying the pre-shave treatment.
Then, time for the deep lather and shave. Straight razors reflected the room with such clarity, Thelon had a moment of fear. “You haven’t been drinking today, have you?” he asked the barber.
“No, boss. I’ve got hands like a surgeon.”
Henry’s eyes were also wide. Don’t worry. He’s not going to kill us. And if he did try, I could stop him.
I didn’t know we could still talk like this.
Warm lather on soft bristles.
Didn’t want to intrude.
The body heat of a man right up in their faces.
Not even to say hey, how’s it hanging?
Razors came down in smooth, chuffing chops.
We were both worried that we’d accidentally fuck you up again.
Oh.
When they finished, rinsed, and lotioned, Thelon and Henry both ran their hands over their respective smooth cheeks.
“Hot damn!” Henry guffawed.
“I know. I haven’t had a smooth cheek since Eden and to be honest, I have no idea how long ago that was.” He looked at himself in the mirror. Hair tight with a fade, he looked young. The man smiling in the mirror was T and he was happy as shit how things had worked out.
Henry was all contented sighs as they left and braced for the frigid air before the car’s heated seats gave them the oh-I-shit-my-pants kind of warmth. “What’s next?”
“We go pick up the tuxes. I guessed at your measurements, so there might be an adjustment. You’re fatter than you were.”
“Fuck you, but yeah. I gots a pot now. Feels good.”
To Thelon, Henry did look good. Damned good. Healthy and clear-eyed. Not a trace of the homeless vagabond remained.
At the tailor, Henry brought up old business again and Thelon wished he’d just focus on today, but they had unspoken issues that needed to be resolved.
Henry stood and let the tailor fiddle with the pins at his waist. “Man, after all that went down, I’m kinda surprised you asked me to be your best man—let alone invited us to the wedding.”
Thelon sat and held his bagged-up tux. “You’re still my best friend even if I can’t be a superhero like you two—you four. Whatever. How’s it going, by the way? Get any more of those things?”
“Well, yeah. We have this theory that whoever would have been compatible with Black Star’s experiments back in Prime world are the candidates for entities this time around, too. Cynthia put together a list.”
Shit is wild.
“Hakim?” Thelon asked.
“Trying to find him, but it’s hard. International shit is hard.”
I don’t want to find him. “Who else?”
“Cynthia remembers everything about the testing protocol now, so she’s sending us out on sorties. Some people don’t even exist here. It’s fucked up that we are retracking the same candidates as before.”
“Yeah.”
“And there’s a website for people to post tips and there’s a hotline. We’re the Ghostbusters, baby!”
“You enjoy this way too much.”
“If you think I’m a bit much, wait till you see Cassie. She’s the fucking soldier.”
“You gonna marry her?”
The tailor finished up and Henry put back on his street clothes while they waited for the adjustments to be made.
“Well, she hasn’t asked, but we want kids. Really want kids. We lost one, apparently, you know.”
“I know.”
“I think every generation has this, ‘oh no, how can we bring children into a world that’s so fucked up,’ but for us, I think it’s harder.”
Thelon nodded. He’d had similar conversations with Annie. “Look, I’ve gotta drop you off and then run more errands. I’ll see you at the rehearsal, yeah? You got a ride and everything?”
“Cassie will figure it out. She always does. I’m just along for the ride.”
As he said he would, Thelon dropped Henry back at the hotel after they shared a lean-over-the-gearshift hug where Henry cradled the back of Thelon’s head and held him close. “I love you, man.”
Thelon had said, “I love you, too,” and meant it.
Hours passed too fast as Thelon marked items completed on a shared online to-do list from his phone. Annie had coordinated everything like a master project manager, stepping hard and often on the toes of their wedding planners. Thelon loved it: the paint by numbers clarity of task to do, task done. The rehearsal was quick, easy, and unremarkable in the walk through of procession. The stage was set and all that remained was dinner, a good night’s sleep, and then the wedding day itself.
With evening came November snow, and everyone remarked on it and teeth chattered as they filed into the restaurant reserved section. Hands accepted shakes, pulled into hugs, and passed cups of signature cocktails to all but Thelon, who sipped his soda water with lime.
Thelon knew a drink would be nice, but his Xanax held him at cruising altitude as he endured back slaps from relatives and family friends he barely knew. He let them hold up both sides of the conversation filled with marital advice. This is the good life.
These were the moments he’d hope to remember. Annie came in with Cassie, their necks adorned with scarves they’d undoubtably bought in some joint shopping spree. At that moment, gazing at them, Thelon had an out of body experience and he struggled to keep his awareness grounded and present. For a moment, he saw with his second sight Cassie—an integrated waveform, a shape like a piece of musical spectrogram, the human woman. She was a vibration intersected by Henry Prime, and wrapped up in that essence, burning bright, was a fire so brightly burning, but it was also contained and obedient.
The vision went away, and Thelon saw only hugs and heard only laughter and chatter. He retreated to the far end of the table in the reserved space and took a seat next to his mother and father.
“How are you, son?” his father asked.
“I’m doing good, Dad. I’m doing really good.”
“She’s a good woman and I’m so glad she found you and you didn’t screw it up,” Dad said.
“I’m doing my best, just like you taught me.”
Mom interjected, “Well, all I want to know—and you probably saw this coming—is when will I have a grandbaby?”
At that moment, Henry came to the rescue by standing and clanking his champagne class with a spoon. “Excuse me, all, friends and lovers, if I can have your attention. Please, those not standing, stand and take a glass if you don’t have one.” His voice carried and the thirty or so in the around the big table and two smaller ones stood—all except babies in strollers and children playing beneath the tables.
“We are here today to celebrate Thelonious and Annie, this stunningly beautiful pair who have graciously let us share in their joyous occasion, and I…” Henry appeared to lose his train of thought, then recovered, “I am honored to be here. Thelon literally—and I don’t mean that in the Millennial sense, but actually and literally—changed my life. A lot of us here have stories and tomorrow, I’ll share more of mine and embarrass him in the process, but for now, let’s raise our glasses and toast to the happiness, joy, and love before us today. To Annie and Thelon!”
Annie made her way through and clinked glasses with Thelon. She hugged him and whispered in his ear as all present cheered and drank, “You okay, love?”
“I know where I am, love,” he said, and returned her hug and kissed her cheek.
“Oooh, smooth. I like this. Are you going to keep it?”
“If you want it, I’ll keep it clean forever.”
Thelon and all sat, and servers came in with food and bread and he watched as Henry and Cassie we
nt out to the lobby. He hoped they were just going for a sexy romp in the bathrooms or outside to smoke cigarettes if they still smoked, but he feared something was up. The way Henry had paused might have been a sign—could have been; hopefully it wasn’t. Please, dear God, no. He could shift his attention and see if he wanted to. Their proximity could let him open up and communicate with them telepathically, but he wanted that radio signal turned off.
“Don’t be getting funny, honey. Eat some bread. Be here,” Annie said as she gave her man a watchful eye.
When Henry and Cassie returned to tuck into the meal, only then did Thelon join in the merriment, eating and talking with his mouthful as his aunts and uncles talked about their own weddings and how Nana would have loved to have seen this day.
Once more, the second time in as many days, there was an excess of food which Thelon again directed to be packaged up for donation. Photos were taken on many a phone and Thelon and Annie waited until few remained who would go out cavorting while they went home and slept.
~
THE MORNING WAS so calm. Thelon sat with his herbal tea and did nothing, but soon planned activities would start. He’d gone without a bachelor party and was fine with that. Instead, he and Annie had spent the night binging on cartoons and comfort. They’d part ways and not see each other until the first sight photos in their respective wedding costumes.
Thelon kissed his bride to be and went out into the world to sync up with Henry, Chad, and Tony—his three-person parade of best men. What are these totally different dudes gonna talk about?
The world had changed since the EP closure, but while hardly anyone mentioned it anymore, the strangeness always raised its weird head. Back when it had happened, Thelon didn’t have great control over his shift in awareness and would see it. He’d observed various function of physics and nature or the human energy forms automatically, snap and shake as they accepted the new normal. Names of geographic places changed in weird glitch flickers. Actors changed faces. Wiki bio pages changed. Who started which war in history differed. All these things fit into the merged timeline over the first weeks as new pieces. It was as if there was no solid past. Thelon wondered if time had restarted branching into alternate universes again, like a cutting from a plant following its genetic code to divide and expand, but he declined to explore those places open to him in favor of living today. Living in the present. Living to see his wedding as it was.
Oh, deep fucking thoughts, just go away already. The draw of contemplating the big picture was always there for Thelon. It would always be there, but today he had a job to do.
He texted the guys to meet him out front but received a reply summoning him to Tony’s room. Thelon spotted a few guests he recognized as he walked through the lobby bar with his tux over his shoulder. He politely nodded and went up the elevator and down the long hall to the room. He heard it before he got there: music blaring. Tony had a Zumba workout playing. Thelon had to knock hard to be heard and Henry let him in.
“Dude, your cousin—”
“I know.”
Tony had pushed the twin beds as far as they could to either wall and worked out feverishly to a DVD . Chad sat at the tiny desk, stuck on the far side of the room, a grin plastered to his face.
“Guys, stop,” Thelon said.
“Hey, cuz.”
Thelon got them dressed and dressed himself. He gave each a fancy-ass watch—one of those slim, atomic clock, not even a Roman numeral upon it’s smooth face, only two hands, guaranteed to rotate for life models. They thanked and toasted him, the three already buzzed and on the way to drunk. A knock at the door was the wedding planners, who pushed in with photographer and got a few candid shots.
They went down to the deco themed lobby and around to the enormous indoor fountain. The photographer directed Thelon to stand by himself and gaze into the water, so he did. The water. How lovely it was. If he needed to dunk himself, if racing-heart anxiety tried to kill him, this fountain would be his go-to destination. He felt fine. He looked fine. Everything was fine.
Lost in his thoughts, letting water ripples hold his attention, someone tapped his shoulder. He turned to see Annie, resplendent in her white designer gown, beaming a smile at him. There was a trace of worry around the eyes, but that was probably wedding stress. Her hair was large and immaculately natural in its gleaming curls. Thelon sighed and smiled back, a blush rising in his cheeks. Annie. I love you, Annie.
He heard the click of photographs, but he had closed his eyes and kissed his bride to be, gently to not mess up her makeup, but the contact sent thrills through his body. He let out a deep breath and took her hand. More photos followed. Family sets. Groomsmen shots. Groomsmen and bridesmaids shots. Thelon went where he was told by the planners and allowed everything to run on rails all according to the scripted plan.
He and Annie were whisked apart and set like chess pieces behind respective walls of the ceremony room. Once walking down the aisle, Thelon’s eyes darted face to face around the sea of family and friends, his side and hers. We’re doing this.
The rest of the ceremony was private and sweet.
Cheers of joy surrounded Annie and Thelon as they held hands on their way out and back up to their rooms. They had a cocktail hour to rest and laugh before they would make their entrance at the reception.
As they lay in their fine clothes on the hotel suite bed, Thelon’s phone buzzed with a call.
“Leave it,” Annie said.
Hey.
Alerted by the psychic shout out, Thelon checked, and saw it was Cassie. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Are you two okay?” She sounded all business.
Thelon sat up. “Yeah, why?”
“We’ve been feeling something weird. Oh, congratulations on getting married. That was great. Henrys send their love.”
“Okay, bye.” Thelon put down the phone.
“Who was it?”
“Cassie. Just watching out for us.”
Annie groaned. “You know the rules.”
“And so do they, love.”
Thelon downed the first Xanax of the day—which would not be the last—and chased it with a handful of antacids. These were precautions. Then dancing, applause, dancing, talking, and then cake, and sweet chocolate melting on tongues and kisses sharing nothing but absolute delight.
After, the real dancing began as the DJ played. As Thelon suspected it would, something happened.
Thelon saw a face peering into the hall from the courtyard outside, and that face was very much like his own. Nestor.
As discretely as a groom at his own wedding could, Thelon backed away from the dance floor and went out the hall by the restrooms to the exit to the courtyard. The cold cut through his tux and froze snot in his nose. His shaved cheeks chapped and for a moment Thelon wished he still had a beard.
Nestor stood, but Thelon had a tough time seeing how he even had the strength. His body was emaciated. He wore a torn t-shirt and jeans and busted sneakers. He looked far worse than Henry had, and that boy had been seriously homeless. The burn scars down the left side of his face looked too tight and keloids traveled down his neck and throat. But he glared, eyes filled with murderous rage. Though they shared a face, it was an expression that had never once been worn by Thelon.
Nestor rasped in a whisper, voice lost in the icy rain, but his words were carried on invisible lines of personal power straight to Thelon’s head. Look at this. Look at this pretty little life.
Thelon glanced at the windows to the reception hall and saw Henry there, who mouthed, Need me?
Thelon shook his head. He walked right up to Nestor’s space and stood face to face, flesh to flesh with his antagonist. “What are you doing, man? Really. What the fuck are you doing?”
Nestor bared his teeth and growled. I have the will to live.
“It’s over.” Thelon’s hook twitched but he willed himself to remain closed, present, and feeling the cold.
Nestor shook like a dog sending flecks of
rain and snow from his shaggy hair and untrimmed beard. I didn’t murder my way across multiple universes of your candy ass to get nothing. To walk away empty handed. I see you. I see you quivering in fear, afraid to use your body—the body I built for myself. I made you.
“Well, my dude, you can’t have it.”
I can take it. I can take you, you dumb fragile thing, Nestor roared into Thelon’s mind and looped his energetic essence through a crack Thelon didn’t know he had—a left over gap where that damned phone and anxiety covered up by the Xanax still lay dormant.
Thelon had a small window of calm as he was penetrated by Nestor. His awareness went up and over his own shoulder and saw Henry and Cassie through the window—through the walls, really—to the reception. They danced close and talked about him. Nestor.
They’d seen this coming and would follow Annie’s rule, but they didn’t want to sit back. If Thelon wanted, he could call them out here and they’d destroy Nestor as they’d destroyed others in these last few months. They could do that and would love to do that, but this was not their wedding.
In that fleeting moment of perception, Thelon caught their very thoughts, pure and bright. Burn him and eat his soul.
Overconfident, Thelon sent them a thought before regular time caught up to him in this sacred space. Homeboy is falling apart already. Whatever energies he’d been using have left him high and dry. Whatever deal he made; they clearly haven’t held up their end of the bargain. I got this.
Only after he’d sent those words did he realize: he did not have this. The freezing courtyard disappeared, and Thelon disappeared, too. Nestor had shifted his attention to some place weird and hostile. They weren’t on Earth, not in space of the collapsed universe. They weren’t in the type of homeland where Wiseman, Hakim, and Henry’s fire were born. They were back outside in a land of giants. No, land of unfathomable everything. Fucker took me back to the unknowable.
Thelon’s awareness represented the totality of himself and metacognition, italicized thoughts, a non-variable in this place. He rejected Nestor and all that Nestor represented, expunged his pulses of waveform energy, flexed who he knew himself to be. Thelon and T were one united vitality.