Page 68
Story: Vasily the Hammer
and swim
and swim
and swim
until my energy meter screams an angry red and I’m so tired I know I’m about to sink or starve to death or die from pissing myself to become a tombstone to haunt this apartment.
To haunt Flagstaff.
Forever.
Because I will die in Flagstaff.
That is my only truth.
In the distance, in the world beyond the screen, in the apartment, in Flagstaff, on planet Earth, my brother whispers, “Oh, you’re not killing yourself on my watch, you son of a bitch.”
I die in Flagstaff.
Chapter 23
Ana
"You know moreabout me than I know about you," I remind Maria as we sit down outside the McDonald's half a mile from Tony's house. I refused her offer to drive us somewhere nicer, and she understood. She's treating me to a six-piece McNuggets and Artom to a cheeseburger Happy Meal, which he orders with all the gusto of a kid who knows he's getting away with something but can't resist.
The moment I bite into the nugget, I know there isn't a chance in hell we eat this regularly. It's not even the chicken that's the problem. It's overprocessed, clearly mashed together from whatever bits of the chicken made their way into the blender, but it's the breading that alarms me.
How do you get breading that consistency? Why does it feel like that in my mouth? What is in this seasoning and why is itinherently wrong in a way I just know I've questioned every time I've eaten them?
I'm not mad at Maria, though. I don't trust her, but so far, she hasn't done anything to me.
"Sounds like that's a common theme in your life," Maria replies, zero sympathy in her voice. I don't think we were friends or even friendly with each other, but I appreciate that she's not holding back.
"What did Vasily tell you?"
She gives Artom a look that tells me she doesn't want to say anything in front of him.
"Why don't you go play with the other kids?" I tell him, pivoting in my seat to make sure I can see the ball pit clearly from my seat. I don't think I trust that pit either, but I'll give him a bath when we get home.
Artom grabs his food and runs off, making instant friends with the other kids in there. I honestly can't believe how lucky I've gotten with him.
"I can tell you all kinds of stories about why Vasily is the hero and Tony is the villain in your story, but for real? Forrealreal? I'm here of my own accord, and my only interest is in keeping you safe. If you don't believe that, believe me that my life would be a hell of a lot easier right now if you'd kept your ass in Florida."
"Why? What did I do? I'm the victim here! I had no—" My words and my confusion die when I catch her flushing. She has a thick coat of makeup on, a natural look but a foundation that nothing passes through, but she reddens right to her ears. I don't know how I know, not when I don't even know the stuff I do know, butI know."You're the reason he has condoms in hisoffice," I hiss at her.
I swear I say it quietly, but the air around us goes stagnant as conversation dies off and eyes slide our way. And I'm pretty sure I sounded way more pissed than I meant to, than I really am.
Because I'm not pissed.
I'm not.
But she's prettier than me.
If I was worried about honesty from her, "Yeah, but mostly out of boredom," is enough to make me think she doesn't know how to be anything but honest.
And then she adds on, "And full disclosure, I'm ATF."
She even pulls out her badge.
and swim
and swim
until my energy meter screams an angry red and I’m so tired I know I’m about to sink or starve to death or die from pissing myself to become a tombstone to haunt this apartment.
To haunt Flagstaff.
Forever.
Because I will die in Flagstaff.
That is my only truth.
In the distance, in the world beyond the screen, in the apartment, in Flagstaff, on planet Earth, my brother whispers, “Oh, you’re not killing yourself on my watch, you son of a bitch.”
I die in Flagstaff.
Chapter 23
Ana
"You know moreabout me than I know about you," I remind Maria as we sit down outside the McDonald's half a mile from Tony's house. I refused her offer to drive us somewhere nicer, and she understood. She's treating me to a six-piece McNuggets and Artom to a cheeseburger Happy Meal, which he orders with all the gusto of a kid who knows he's getting away with something but can't resist.
The moment I bite into the nugget, I know there isn't a chance in hell we eat this regularly. It's not even the chicken that's the problem. It's overprocessed, clearly mashed together from whatever bits of the chicken made their way into the blender, but it's the breading that alarms me.
How do you get breading that consistency? Why does it feel like that in my mouth? What is in this seasoning and why is itinherently wrong in a way I just know I've questioned every time I've eaten them?
I'm not mad at Maria, though. I don't trust her, but so far, she hasn't done anything to me.
"Sounds like that's a common theme in your life," Maria replies, zero sympathy in her voice. I don't think we were friends or even friendly with each other, but I appreciate that she's not holding back.
"What did Vasily tell you?"
She gives Artom a look that tells me she doesn't want to say anything in front of him.
"Why don't you go play with the other kids?" I tell him, pivoting in my seat to make sure I can see the ball pit clearly from my seat. I don't think I trust that pit either, but I'll give him a bath when we get home.
Artom grabs his food and runs off, making instant friends with the other kids in there. I honestly can't believe how lucky I've gotten with him.
"I can tell you all kinds of stories about why Vasily is the hero and Tony is the villain in your story, but for real? Forrealreal? I'm here of my own accord, and my only interest is in keeping you safe. If you don't believe that, believe me that my life would be a hell of a lot easier right now if you'd kept your ass in Florida."
"Why? What did I do? I'm the victim here! I had no—" My words and my confusion die when I catch her flushing. She has a thick coat of makeup on, a natural look but a foundation that nothing passes through, but she reddens right to her ears. I don't know how I know, not when I don't even know the stuff I do know, butI know."You're the reason he has condoms in hisoffice," I hiss at her.
I swear I say it quietly, but the air around us goes stagnant as conversation dies off and eyes slide our way. And I'm pretty sure I sounded way more pissed than I meant to, than I really am.
Because I'm not pissed.
I'm not.
But she's prettier than me.
If I was worried about honesty from her, "Yeah, but mostly out of boredom," is enough to make me think she doesn't know how to be anything but honest.
And then she adds on, "And full disclosure, I'm ATF."
She even pulls out her badge.
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