Creatures of Habit

Sunshine and Poppycock: Chapter 3

My mom had her first split days off the following night. While I do believe she is aware of my excursions, I never go out when she is at home. Sometimes we manage a dinner together. Other times it’s TV. Most of the time, it’s sleep. While she does not ask it, I feel compelled also to sleep early, so I am not keeping her awake with the lights and sounds of my regularly scheduled night time activities.

I sleep late the next day nonetheless. The lack of natural light in my sleeping quarters has allowed me to evolve away from the the genus and species in which I was born to become a completely separate entity devoid of a circadian rhythm. Sometimes I am left with leftovers, which I am able to consume, like a bear freshly coming out of a hibernation in the spring. That afternoon it was dry chicken breast, joined by a side of freshly prepared toast and ketchup.

That night I stayed in. The night after was the second night of my mom’s split weekend. There was a movie on TV and we ate orange cheese flavored curly noodles. We- or rather, just my mom- enjoys this time with me. She fell asleep on the couch half way through, and eventually went to her bed sometime while I was doing the dishes to the music of the credits rolling, before they were cut off by the late night news.

By the end of my mom’s weekend, I have a renewed hankering for my high-fructose fix. That night I headed out. It was 10:43. The pavement was still warm from the hours of soaking up the sun. I left the sweatshirt at home, but alas, I was still sweaty by the time I had reached the bottom of the stairs across that final street to the convenience store.

Nobody was present at the front of the store, which also seemed to be the case of the interior and its barren counter and cash register. I walked up anyway and tried the door. It budged a half centimeter. I stepped back and stared into the twenty-four-seven sign that had never changed once ever. I took yet another step back, being careful of the drop from the curb, to peer up at the crusty and cracked logo for the store which was also of indeterminate existence.

“Boy went to the bathroom there, Sunshine.” I heard the man sniff and snort loudly behind me. I braced myself with one foot on the curb and looked to the side.

“Poppy.” I muttered.

“You’re early. Or late. I dunno.” He shrugged and wound himself in a circle, arms out, around the cigarette totem.

“Late?” I glanced about, attempting to fine any sort of time-telling device somewhere inside the store.

“Yeah, where ya’ been?” Poppy whined, finally stopping and shoving his hands back into his pockets.

“I’m not here every night.” I frowned at him. “Like you, it seems.”

“I ain’t.” Poppy pursed his lips and tilted his head back and forth. “Well, maybe I am.”

“I’m surprised they haven’t gotten you for loitering.”

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Cherry and Diet

Sunshine and Poppycock Chapter 2

It was 11:28 at night when I went out for the evening. Two full days had passed since meeting the blond mop man. That night I had looked over my shoulder at least a couple of times after I had left him midway up the stairs. By all accounts, specifically mine alone, he had not followed me.

I enjoy leaving the house at least a couple of times a week. The only proper store that our budget allows us to shop at consistently is five or so miles away. We- or rather, just my mom- drive there, as she is the only one with a driver’s license. In the past, I tried to come along on the shopping trips. The store closes at nine, and during the summer months, the sun is still out just up until that time. Tinting the windows of the back car windows was somewhat of a success, but then getting to store from the car was always a struggle. As a result, my mom simply does the shopping.

I jot down a list of things I want her to buy for me, but as expected, most junk food I ask for never seems to make it home, or likely in the basket in the first place. So, heading off to the convenience store satisfies two of my fixes: getting something sweet, and allowing myself out of the house.

That evening the night was warm. Summer was approaching. I left the sweatshirt at home. My journey takes me down the exterior stairs one level to the ground, then down a slight slope of the communal patch of brown grass and parking spots to the main road, down that road, across it at the intersection, then following the guard rail atop the embankment before I met with the stairs. The difficulty of the journey’s saving grace, specifically on the upwardly inclined way home, is that I am able to fuel myself with the refreshments.

I found myself once again bathed in the fluorescent glow flowing out from the row of tall, smudged windows at the front of the store. Mop-head wasn’t there beside the propane tanks like before, nor was he under the sign for chewing tobacco where there was a purposefully overturned bucket, nor was he finishing off a drink beside the overflowing trash can. I opened the door to the inside of the store and heard the predictable two-and-a-half jingle of the bell.

Talkative coworker was behind the counter, watching as a scrawny, tattooed older gentleman scratched away furiously at a lottery ticket with a penny from the ‘give-a/take-a’ tray, sending bits of the flaky coating across the counter top. I took the middlemost aisle to grab my packet of M&M’s and glanced to see the unfortunate soul rip the thick paper in half and toss it in the bin by the door before marching out.

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Sunshine and Poppycock

Chapter 1

I am allergic to the sun. Solar Urticaria. We’ve been told it’s supposed to be hereditary. There’s nobody on my mom’s side who has ever seemed to have had it, so likely it was from my father’s side. It’s something we’ll never know, I guess, as he left years ago, never to be heard from again. Ironically enough, it was his leaving that forced my mother and I to move to a different town, a smaller place we could better afford. That was the coast, where the consistent overcast clouds and the wearing of always at least a sweatshirt kept the condition hidden away.

Then we moved to the valley, where it is delightfully sunny most days out of the year. I experienced the hives right away, as the sole mover was shoving what little boxes we had into the apartment. Rather than spending my first night in a new place in the somewhat familiarity of my own bed, I found myself in the hospital, attempting to find out what was the cause of the red, swollen, bumps on my arms and chest, and the difficulty breathing and nausea that came with it.

We were told to keep out of the sun the best we could, to cover up the best we could when going out, and to just hope that it would eventually go away. We- or rather, just my mom- decided to pull out my new school’s enrollment until we knew the full extent of my problem. That was two years ago.

 

The night had slowly become my realm since then. It was during the nights I would go out and do my thing proper. Tonight, the moon was a bright three-quarters. I had worried, at the beginning, if the moonlight would have the same effect on me, being that it was just the reflection of the sun’s light. There was no significant result. If anything, I was being vaccinated little by little by that certain pale glow.

My favorite place to go was the convenience store three blocks down, a little bit over, and down the long flight of stairs to the bottom of the embankment, then right at the opposite side of the street down there. Everything between our apartment and the store were more apartment blocks and their little, dirty, partially covered parking lots. I had yet to discover anything within the same radius that was also open twenty-four hours, of course, not for the lack of trying.

Right between the hollow totem for depositing smoked cigarettes and the cage full of propane tanks was a rounded pile of messy blond hair, and underneath, a man, crouched to the ground. I felt his eyes from underneath his long, choppy bangs. There was an odor of alcohol emanating from him, like someone had passed gas in a small room while also attending to a cut. I averted my eyes and went inside.

My favorite things things to buy were the non-sharing size bag of peanut M&M’s and one of those exorbitantly-sized foam cups of a perfect mixture of both Wild Cherry Pepsi and Diet Pepsi, poured over a hefty pile of ice. I liked how it melted and left me with vaguely soda-flavored water some time later in the night. This combination of treats was often my dinner some nights.

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The Tenth Day

Pre * De * Cede: Chapter 10 [Final]

I only moved Epsilon slightly, back to the corner of the wall of the room. I took the chance to wipe up the water. The lab was slightly disorganized, with opened plastic and paper packets about, as well as a collection of microscope slides and test tubes filled with several shades of liquids. I gathered up what I could determine to be disposable and put it into the station’s trash compactor.

I took notice next of the ground. It had yet to be properly cleaned since Gamma and I had gone about the station emptying the crates of materials and supplies. There was some residual dust left, as well as tracks of red sand, bits of paper from the lab supplies, fibers and strings from out clothing, and bits of food that had fallen to the ground. I remembered vaguely a broom and dustpan packed away in one of the auxiliary compartments in the airlock chamber.

The bristles were neatly chiseled at an angle, and the plastic handle was long and sturdy. I carefully shuffled my feet around the mess while gathering it up into a singular pile inside the segment of station. Delta studied my movements as I made my way into the dining room.

“Is that how you’ve decided to help?”

I looked up from the line of crumbs I had amassed at the front of the bristles. “Sometimes, these things need to be done.”

Delta turned his attention back to his work before replying. “If… when someone arrives to check on us, hopefully they’ll first take notice of how clean it is.” He said dryly.

I left the mess where it was and placed the broom propped up in the corner. I found my seat again beside Delta, leaning forward on the table. “Would you rather me help you?” I asked earnestly. “I can head up to the roof again-”

“Alpha.” Delta interrupted, letting out a long sigh. He continued to face his work, before tapping his fingers loudly on the hard surface before him. He offered me up a single, longing glance. “You don’t have to go anywhere. I’m afraid to be here alone when it happens.”

I blinked at Delta a few times. “I’ll be here…”

“There must be something special about you, Alpha.” Delta stared at the instrument, his hands immobile.

“It certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

“If something was going to happen to you, it would have happened already.”

“Delta…” I mumbled out, not knowing what to say next. “I’m sorry.”

Delta lifted an eyebrow my way. “What are you sorry about?”

“Maybe if I knew what was going on, I could have been the one to foresee this coming. Maybe we missed out on something. Maybe Zeta missed some part of our inoculations. Maybe it was a system that’s down. Maybe there’s something I missed out there on the cargo delivery that we could have used, that could have been necessary to making sure we would be healthy. Maybe there was something there that we could have used as part of the communications array. Maybe there is some log somewhere, taped to the inside of one of those crates we unloaded, telling us the secret to something we were missing.”

“You’re only blaming yourself because you’re afraid to be the only one left.”

I gulped hard. “At the rate we’re going… I’ll end up going… I’ll have food for a long, long time. If they can’t reach us for whatever sort of checkup like before… they’ll probably eventually try and send some sort of replacement to help the station get reconnected. And then, I’ll spend my time getting it up and running, and finally get around to telling them that I’m the only one left. After that… how much longer will they take to rectify that?” I drew my knuckles down the edge of the table, and my teeth bit hard into my lip.

“I’m sorry, Alpha.”

I slammed my fist hard into the table top, hoping to feel the pain that never showed itself. The underside of my hand was torn up, but no blood was produced. “No, I’m sorry, Delta. I shouldn’t be pressing you with this burden at a time like this. Let’s have a meal. What would you like?”

“Nothing, Alpha.” Delta returned weakly. “I’m just… really tired, right now…”

Continue reading “The Tenth Day”

The Ninth Day

Pre * De * Cede: Chapter 9

Beta had been wrapped in the only other spare blanket we had. I carried the bundle in which Gamma was encased over my shoulder to the airlock door, followed by Beta on Epsilon’s back. I set Gamma down as gently as possible, propped in the corner, before I suited up.

Epsilon helped me push the bodies further past the first set of doors. I bent down to hoist up the first of the indistinguishable remains. I remember some practiced action in my body to lift with my knees. With the end of the airlock’s cycle, I shifted outside. A couple of meters outside the door was an area of flat space, where there were only a few rocks needing to be displaced. The light of the station was just enough to reach out into the dark of the night, illuminated otherwise only by the stars above. I set the first body down and returned for the second. Epsilon watched silently through the window as I worked through the solemn task.

“Delta.” I initiated the radio feed, peering at the parallel bundles one last time.

“Whenever you’re ready, Alpha.” The communication returned.

I flipped on the light on my helmet and wandered back to the station and around the side to where the ladder led up to the rooftop. The dish still stood in place, stoic, the same as we had left it. “I’m here.” I announced to Delta as I approached.

“Look for a single wire, about as half as big as your pinkie, wrapped in yellow insulation. The bare copper at the tip is already folded over for you.”

“Understood.” I shined the thin beam around. I caught sight of the conduit in a dull flash. It was intertwined with the prefabricated bundle of wire already attaching the communications dish with the station’s systems. “I see it.”

I landed on my knees and shoved my hand into the tangle of wires and metal supports, finding the of one note just in reach. I gave it a gentle tug to bring it up within reach of the bolt Delta had described to me.

“I’ve got it, Delta.” I said, unsnapping my breast pocket and retrieving the wrench inside.
“The system is disconnected, so you should have no worries.”

I leaned in and fumbled with the end of the wire, attempting the precise task of looping the end around the minuscule length of bolt. My fingers trembled and shifted back and forth, before it finally made contact. With a flick of my wrist upon the tool, I secured the installation in place. “It’s in.” I declared, shifting myself away slightly.

“Okay, then…” Delta sighed loudly. “Well, then, I guess we can give it a shot. Hold up there for a bit, okay, to see if the system does anything funny.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” I nodded reflexively.

Delta hummed a faint tune, something I noticed he did often while in concentration. “Here goes.” He said.

I sat back nonchalantly. Within the blink of an eye, I noticed the ends of the wire begin to glow. Before I could move back, a series of glowing sparks jumped about, some landing upon my arms. The material of the suit caught fire and immediately extinguished itself, but I could already feel the singed flesh beneath.

“Damn it!” Delta’s voice cracked. “Alpha, did something happen?”

I scrambled back, rubbing down my arms. My feet searched behind me for the top rung of the ladder. “I’m coming back in.”

The stinging continued as I impatiently waited for the airlock to cycle and allow me inside. Epsilon poked his head out of the door as I was struggling to rid myself of the top half of my suit.

“Epsilon, get Zeta for me, I need medical attention.”

Epsilon frowned and shook his head. “I’m… sorry.”

I caught his helpless expression before waddling into the room after him. My sensation of pain abated as I saw Zeta slumped over the counter, her body bent at an uncomfortable angle. “When…?”

“Just as you placed the other two outside.” Epsilon shuddered. He was digging through some of the supplies. I looked at my wounds- slight black marks upon my flesh from the burning material, and underneath, a spattering of shallow red marks in my skin. Epsilon faced me with a cotton ball and a bottle of isopropyl.

Delta joined us as Epsilon dabbed away at the spots on my arms. “No good, the whole system is fried.”

“Epsilon…” I winced as he touched the damp cotton to my skin. “How… what…?”

Epsilon pursed his lips. “She said… ‘I’m tired,’ or something like that, then… she collapsed.”

“And we don’t know anything new, do we?”

“She said the the tests on the inoculation were pointless, as well.” Epsilon sighed and shoved the bottle of rubbing alcohol back in its place at the back of the open cabinet.

Continue reading “The Ninth Day”