Cyris talks to Clareece
“I shouldn’t have done it, Clareece.” Cyris said as he sipped the vodka in his coffee cup. It burned his throat but made him relax. He knew, when he met others of his kind, they always begged him to take their power, give them a life without the torment. And he would eventually comply and then they would kill themselves. “God, I miss Tabytha.”
“Don’t take offense, but you really need to get over her,” she said wiping the table he was sitting at. It was noon. He had been sitting their camouflaged for several hours, but the vodka had taken effect. He had gotten a little sloppy and had let glimpses out of the corner of the normal people’s eyes of something in the corner. To keep from having to purge people’s minds when he had been drinking, drinking heavily, he just let himself be seen. “Why don’t we go out tonight? I have some bi friends who might like you.” She knelt down to whisper in his ear, “I have a friend who will do you as a favor to me. I’ll probably have to do her too, but that might be fun. You could do her, while I do her. We’ll make it a party.”
Cyris raised his gaze, and stared into the heavily rimmed mascara eyes. “There is amply more to life than jumping a stranger’s bones.”
Clareece smiled, pulled out a chair and sat next to him. “Cy, I’m just saying if get your pipes cleaned out, you might let yourself get out of this town. Move on with your life.”
“Where is there for me to move?” He sipped the last remnants of his vodka. “She’s buried here.”
“And some physical distance may help you get over it.”
“There is no getting over her,” he said stressing the last word. “We went through too much, shared more than you can even perceive.”
“We all go through too much. You know how I ended up here in this shithole talking to you most of the day.”
“Fuck fate. His name was Tate.” She paused and smiled. “Tate fucked my fate. I was going to go to Denver to become the world greatest snowboard chick.” She paused. A smile came to her face at the thought of wide open mountains, with her sliding over newly fallen snow. The cold lifeless air embracing her as if nothing else mattered. The idea was pleasant. She turned her head and focused on her current surrounding. She sighed. “Have you ever tried to snowboard in Iowa?”
“Nearest ski hill in Denver is 50 miles away.”
“As you said before, Iowa is geologically challenged. If I want to snowboard here, I’m damned to do it twenty seconds at a time.” Cyris turned and smiled. “Yes, you have heard this before.”
“Why are you still here?” Cyris asked, smiling lightly. “Why don’t you leave and put some physical distance between where Tate left you instead of bitching about it daily?”
She stood. “I’m not overly ambitious,” she said. “Besides, Iowa is nice. Not great, spectacular, amazing. But it’s nice. You’re nice.”
“Perhaps if you could turn water into wine, but since you can’t, you’re just nice.” She reached for his glass. “Let me get you some more coffee. On the house.” She collected his mug and went to the large carafes and started to fill it.
Water into wine, Cyris thought. That could make him spectacular. Shit, he thought, fuck water into wine when he could turn coffee into vodka. “Get yourself a cup,” he said. “I have something I want to run by you.”
After reaching over the counter to grab a paper cup from a stack, Clareece filled the two cups, and returned to her chair.
“Are you fucking comfortable?” Maria yelled. Clareece stared at the head sticking out of the doorway to the back.
“Since you won’t let me dance on the table, I have to get tips somehow!” Clareece yelled. She reached to grab her black t-shirt with one hand and lifted the bottom, exposing the underside of her breast and her belly. Maria saw the white flesh with the 6 tattooed stars, three per side, vertically aligned on her abdomen. So young and taunt, the older woman thought.
“Dammit,” Maria said under her breath. “You’ve got 5 minutes little lady, and then I want to see you back in my office. We’re going to get our lunch rush soon.”
While Clareece was distracted by her elderly girlfriend, Cyris had placed his hands around the coffee cups, one on each. He stared at the blackness of the liquid, seeing the reflection of the wall in front of him. His hands cooled, a wisp of blue light leaked from between his hands.
“I don’t know why she puts up with my shit,” Clareece said turned back to Cyris. She grabbed her cup, and brought it to her lips and blew. “Perhaps she’s lonely.”
Clareece sipped her drink and felt the burning flavor. She swallowed and coughed. “How do you do that? Where did you pour the coffee? I’ll probably have to clean it up.” She smiled and place a hand on Cyris arm and took a larger gulp.
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