...Except he was no longer that round faced boy, face hidden behind a fringe. The Theo that was asking her to dance was twice as wide with arms barely contained by his sleeves, most likely sculpted from his bombero training. His features had sharpened up, and his hair no longer hid him, slicked back and styled out of his face. He also had a growth spurt in the time they were separated and towered imposingly above the seated couple. Sophia wondered how she had even recognized him.
If she was looking at Enrique in that moment, she would have noticed the clench in his jaw and how his brows furrowed in a questioning threat. But she was looking at Theo, who hadn’t looked to Enrique for permission, like a gentleman would have, he was asking for hers.
Because just like her, there were some rules Theo didn’t respect. While they could and did bond over how silly people needed to act at events, Sophia thought his timing was terrible. She turned to Enrique and finally took in just how affronted he was, slightly impressed with how well he hid it. “May I?” She asked, to save his ego.
Enrique raises a brow sitting back in his seat. Theo finally acknowledged Enrique with the smallest bow of his head. “I’ll give her back, caballero,” Theo said smoothly, with a similar cocky grin she had seen countless times on Ricky’s face. Well now he has to say no—
“I’ll miss you terribly, but please, enjoy.”
Before Sophia could ponder if both if these men were crazy, Theo swept her off her feet in a familiar hold, straight on to the dance floor.
Sun throughout the day
Cold throughout the sun
Nobody on the streets
parked cars
Still no snow
but wind wind
A red tree
still burns
in the chilled air
Talking to it I talk to you
I am in a room abandoned by language
you are in another identical room
Or we both are
on a street your glance has depopulated
The world
imperceptibly comes apart
Memory
decayed beneath our feet
I am stopped in the middle of this
unwritten line
Doors open and close by themselves
Air
enters and leaves our house
Air
talks to itself talking to you
Air
nameless in the endless corridor
Who knows who is on the other side?
Air
turns and turns in my empty skull
Air
turns to air everything it touches
Air
with air-fingers scatters everything I say
I am the air you don’t see
I can’t open your eyes
I can’t close the door
The air has turned solid
This hour has the shape of a pause
This pause has your shape
You have the shape of a fountain made
not of water but of time
My pieces bob
at the jet’s tip
what I was……am……still am not
My life is weightless
The past thins out
The future……a little water in your eyes
Now you have a bridge-shape
Our room navigates beneath your arches
From your railing we watch us pass
You ripple with wind…more light than body
The sun on the other band
grows upside down
Its roots buried deep in the sky
We could hide ourselves in its foliage
Build a bonfire with its branches
The day is habitable
The cold has immobilized the world
Space is made of glass
Glass made of air
The lightest sounds build
quick sculptures
Echoes multiply and scatter them
Maybe it will snow
Yoshi thinks Zhonglin should be nervous— or at least he could look the part. Just a little show of concern would make sense to Yoshi but Zhonglin is feigning sleep like he’s bored on the stand; his head resting on his arms at the classroom desk they provided for him in place of an actual witness stand. Yoshi doesn’t really remember the last trial Solace had, it had gone by very quickly and the resolution was Carmine had to give up her bottles of liquor— because a tourist said it wasn’t fair she was even allowed to have it with the laws and so forth.
Yoshi thought that made sense logically, but Carmine, and by extension anyone who traded with her was prickly about it since. The following weeks had been weird and not a time Yoshi enjoyed being in the trading square. There seemed to be a collective sigh of relief and feeling of good riddance when that tourist was gone. He hadn’t even said goodbye.
Yoshi’s anxiously taps his feet as the town hall fills. Usually a place for city meetings now a courthouse for however long the trial lasts. Someone slides into the bench next to him and taps his bouncing leg. “You scared or somethin’?” Ladybug asks.
“I can’t be the only one.” Yoshi answers. Ladybug was from the western part of the town and she made and traded soaps. Never raised her voice, always had a smile on her face and a big hat on her head. She spoke to everyone with a kindness Yoshi has only seen on citizens born on the commune. Her smile made Yoshi uneasy however, for reasons he could never place, but Zhonglin always spoke highly of her. Something about neither of them being Solites from birth made them click.
“Please this is a farce. Oliviera just wants to show these outsiders actions have consequences.” Ladybug shakes her head and pulls a fan from seemingly no where. Yoshi squints. It’s not even hot in here.
“They’re asking for his head.” Yoshi whispers. Is he the only one aware people died and his friend is being blamed for it?
She chuckles. “They can ask all they want. Hell, I wish they would touch a hair on his head.” She says, a lilt in her voice Yoshi doesn’t comprehend. There’s a silence as more citizens fill the town hall. Ladybug turns to look at the taller man and sighs. “You know, I find your lack of faith disturbin’.”
“What?”
“Zhonglin is your close friend ain’t he? You believe he ain’t do nothin’ wrong, right? So why you worried?”
Yoshi wrings his hands together, not sure how to answer. Mayor Oliviera bangs a gavel and snaps Zhonglin from his pretend slumber. The new tourists, kin to the ones lost to Vicky, send him murderous glares. There’s two more of them, an older woman, probably the mother of the ones lost, and a younger one wiping invisible tears away. She’s wearing a dress that’s mostly ruffles and ribbons and lace as well as being all over pink.
Yoshi thinks it’s childish, and very out of place.
“Bless her heart, that dress looks cheap as dirt.” Ladybug mutters.
Oliviera clears her throat. “Wang Zhonglin, you are accused of being witness to the deaths of two tourists. How do you plead?”
Zhonglin quirks an eyebrow, and leans back as best he can in his constricting seat. He’s impressed which further confuses and worries his friend. Yoshi’s sweating, wondering if Ladybug would share her fan when Zhonglin answers.
“Guilty.”
There’s a shocked uproar from both the tourists and Solace citizens, not from Yoshi, who is shell shocked and not from Ladybug who shares a similar look of amusement to their peer on the stand.
“Am I still wrong to be worried?” Yoshi asks tensely as Oliviera tries to quiet the yells of protest.
“You give up real easy, Sato,” Ladybug states. “It’s only just started.”
If you went west past the greenhouses you would find a field of sunflowers that soon made way to a lake. The field was once a tourist attraction for taking scenic pictures and bags of seed. But now it was cut off from tourists since in the words of the locals, the tourists can’t follow directions.
Zhonglin liked to hide there, the tall flowers did a good job of hiding people, hiding secrets. Yoshi always managed to track him down, saying they should get back to work, back to their own fields, back to where people were.
Zhonglin always asked for 10 more minutes to just lie there. Yoshi always obliged, and then joined him.
As much as Zhonglin liked the commune and navigated the laws well enough, the citizens, including his dear friend could be a bit much. Yoshi is, for all his size and appearance, a strict law abiding Solite. He also saw good in people that didn’t deserve it, and gave everyone the benefit of doubt. Yoshi was born and raised on this commune and behaved every part of it. Right now Zhonglin bets Yoshi just thinks Zhonglin is tired or overwhelmed when the truth is always a bit more complicated.
“They’re saying you hurt those tourists.”
Zhonglin continues to lie there eyes closed as if hes taking a nap. He appreciates that Yoshi likes to warn him of what people think of him.
“I didn’t touch them. They were in Vicky’s territory. They were warned.” all truthful statements, because Yoshi craves honesty more than anything.
“There may be a trial.”
Zhonglin stifles a laugh and a “I hope so.” It has been boring around the commune lately. He hopes at the least Vicky enjoyed her meal.
Sophia thinks the request is ridiculous, there’s nothing important for him to see, nothing but the truth he already knows that she’s just a girl from the outskirts. One who has been in the Diaz’s home more times than she should have been allowed.
She’s quickly getting tired of this need of his to get to know her. But she remembers Valentina’s words and doesn’t outright reject him, yet.
She opts to plays up the confusion instead, blinking up at him. “Really…? Why?”
“What? You can see mine but I can’t see yours?” Ricky grins and Sophia mentally cringes, and thinks hell is a man who makes everything a joke. She wishes it could hurt him to wipe that grin off his face.
“Maybe so.” She says instead.
“Got something to hide sweetheart?”
This again. The pet name was only a little tolerable. She nods, giving him a coy pout. “Many things, I’d have to hide them all and that will take forever.” She emphasizes the ‘ever’, drawing it out.
He lifts his hand and swears, “I promise not to say anything then.”
Sophia snorts, “Oh, Ricky we both know you cant help yourself.” The regret is immediate. Hell, he’s wearing off on her.
“Yeah?” The stupid grin is back and she mentally curses him.
The garage is a huge, echoing space that only held three vehicles at any given time. It was Manuel’s space to work as cars were rare in the city. The García family’s contribution to the city was the tranvía system and maintaining that system. Cars were a threat to that, not that Manuel cared, nor did his mother discourage him from it. He had to use his engineering education on something and if it wasn’t going to be the trains, the cars were the next best thing. Manuel did not look like someone who got his hands dirty, as the only man in his family he was trained a bit harder into personal upkeep than most men his age. The cars kept him defiantly covered in oil and constantly stained his clothes. Manuel cleaned up nice, but that was not what he preferred.
Enrique liked watching Manuel work. Something about the passion his friend had for these cars but also the fact no one ever came into the garage while he was working. Sometimes Enrique lent a hand, learning more about Manuel and the cars. Other times like today he sat and watched as they talked about anything and everything.
“So, are you going to tell me his name or keep pretending to tighten that screw?” Enrique asks.
Manuel slows his actions and lets out a small laugh. “Why? Are you afraid he has bad intentions?”
“Oh, I know he does, and you do too. Trust me I’m not worried,” Enrique says. Manuel barks out a laugh. “Just curious. I’m allowed to be curious, no?”
Manuel puts his wrench down, grabbing a stained towel to wipe his hands. “His name is Ignacio,” Manuel crosses his arms and takes a step towards Enrique’s seat in the corner, “He’s a racer, and he’s from Amora.”
Enrique whistles, trying to find something encouraging to say. Their families wouldn’t be thrilled to know they involved themselves with people from Amora.
“Yeah, I know I know. But I like him a lot and you’re meeting him soon.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, you’ll like him too. Mom thinks were going to watch a game if you need an excuse.”
In truth it doesn’t matter what white lie he tells his parents because Enrique will always be shadowed by Raphael. It’s a matter of bribing the man tasked with reporting his every move to his parents.
—
They’re in one of Manny’s precious creations cruising down the highway. It’s not one of his flashier works like the bright yellow coupe or the orange convertible but a discreet copper sedan that blends in with normal traffic. He’s not even speeding.
“Where exactly is this guy?” Ricky asks when the roads start looking slightly unfamiliar.
“Why? Are you worried I’ll get us lost?” Manny jokes. He’s been vague about the whole trip, never directly answering Ricky. They’re going to see this “friend” of Manny’s and that’s all he knows. Manny had said dressed casually and Ricky had made an attempt only for Manny to sigh and try to mess up his clothes.
Ricky scoffs. “The city will freeze before I get lost in it.”
“Then stop worrying. This is gonna be fun trust me.” And Ricky does because Manny is a man of his word.
They pull up to what should be a park in Soledo. On every map it’s marked as such but it’s been heavily repurposed. Gone are the markings and lines for fútbol fields. Instead, a road’s been carved around. It takes a second for Ricky to realize it’s a racetrack.
Manny’s parked them far from the action. There’s a brief moment where Ricky thinks they’ll have to walk all way to track but then another car pulls up beside them. It’s Manny’s orange convertible. The driver offers them a charming and contagious smile and Ricky understands.
“This is Nacio. Nacio this is my friend Ricky.” Manny introduces the man and Ricky is finally glad to have a name and face for the person Manny been swooning over for weeks.
His hair is cropped, and he has fading scars on his face and hands, surely exciting stories from his line of work or recreational hobby. He is rugged in all the ways Manny is not.
“Hop in.”
“How’d you get your hands on this beauty?” Ricky asks sliding into the backseat. More things click into place as he realizes he stopped seeing this car when Manny started his obsession with Nacio.
“He won it fair and square.” Manny says, boasting as if he was the one in the winner’s circle.
Nacio maneuvers the convertible like he’s always known it. Easily and smoothly bringing it back to the track. Ricky wants more to the story but doesn’t press. Saving it for next time he wants to embarrass his best friend.
Trackside is full of energy as spectators place their bets and talk to the racers. One of the information booths had been repurposed into a concession stand and a bar. Manny orders them two beers and empanadas.
“Would you like to place a bet?” The concession lady asks.
Manny smiles at her, “No, not this time.”
Nacio revs the engine of Manny’s car, and a gray coupe responds with one of its own. As the flag girl struts out to the front of the cars, Enrique nearly chokes on his beer.
Manny pats his back, as he coughs. “You alright?”
“I know her,” Enrique rasps out once his throat stops burning.
Sophia lifts the flag up in the air, and time seems to freeze as the seconds tick by, before she drops her arm. Enrique barely registers the screeching sound the two cars make as they speed off, eyes fixed on Sophia. She’s stunningly windblown as she stares after the racing cars.
“The flag girl?”
“Yeah she…” Enrique hesitates. He hadn’t told Manny about what really happened to the pocket watch. “She was at Violet’s party.”
“The one who ran off after the quake? How do you know it’s her?”
Sophia finally turns away from the cars that are now out of eyesight and makes her way towards the concessions. She does a double take as she finally locks eyes with Enrique and walks purposefully and angrily towards him.
“Are you stalking me?” She asks, on arm on her hip and brows furrowed in rage.
Enrique places his arms up in surrender, “I promise I’m not.”
“Relax, señorita,” Manny injects. “He means no harm.”
“Can we start over? Please?” Enrique begs.
“What?”
“Start over, it’s clear we got off on the wrong foot. Made some bad first impressions.”
Sophia’s expressions softens, taken a bit back. “I…don’t actually think we did.” She says, honestly.
It’s late, just after sunset when he decides to approach the tourists. “Mind if I join you guys?” Zhonglin asks them at their illegal little campfire. It’s two men probably close in age to Zhonglin but looked much older. One had light blue eyes and blond hair peeking out from his bucket hat, the other had his hair dyed a violently orange color and pale green eyes.
“Sure,” the blond says, “Want a kebab?”
“I’m good thanks.” Zhonglin takes a seat on the ground across from them. He’s brought nothing but a huge metal water bottle. “Where are you two from? Infernal? Trident?” Zhonglin guesses.
“We’re actually from the Ring Satellite.” The blond says.
“Oh, off planet,” Zhonglin says, unimpressed. “What brings you to Earth?”
“It’s this trend. They tell us Earth is not able to sustain life anymore but through the grapevine we’ll hear about cities like Solace and Infernal and Expanse and how everyone lives off the stuff the Earth makes. We thought it was a myth, so we liberated one of those supply pods to come down here.” The one with the fiery hair brags.
Zhonglin nods in understanding. These two have always broken laws and been inconsiderate, not just in his city. To further prove this, the blond pulls out a vape from his cargo pants.
“How did you get that past the watchmen?” Zhonglin asks.
He blows out unidentifiable fruit scented smoke. “What are you a cop?”
“We have no cops here, and no I’m not a watchman.” Zhonglin says with a shrug.
“Well, your ‘watchman’ or whatever didn’t know what it was.”
Sounds about right. “Well, smoking is banned here.”
“How,” fiery hair speaks up, “You just said there were no cops?”
“Right, so you entered through the city limits, because you saw a watchman, who definitely explained to you what is and isn’t allowed here and handed you one of our handbooks explaining our laws,” Zhonglin stands up and dusts himself off. “Smoking is banned because it’s bad for the air. Bad for your lungs too but honestly, I don’t care about that. This campfire is also illegal the smoke will bother the people here as well as the wildlife. Stealing is also not allowed, I know we have no currency here and you think so lowly of us, but I did see you,” He points to the fiery haired one, “Take something from a friend of mine today. You’re both very inconsiderate of the people here it’s shocking.”
The pair look at each other and the blond scoffs. “Dude, relax.”
“Hey, I didn’t steal anything. She dropped it. What, you want it back?” Orange hair says as if he’s challenging Zhonglin.
“No, she already told me she didn’t need it. I came of my own accord, to just warn you.
“Warn us? About what?” The blond asks.
“The wildlife here is used to us and we are used to them. If you had read that handbook, you would know just how dangerous this location is. See my friends think I’m cruel, so I came over here to prove I wasn’t. There’s a jaguar in this area very territorial.” Zhonglin twists the top off his water bottle and takes a sip. “To be honest everyone was just going to leave you out here, on account of you being the hardheaded tools that you are.”
“Screw you, you’re lying! You wouldn’t be out here if it was true!” Orange hair yells.
Zhonglin sighs and shakes his head. He tried. “Alright then.” He drowns their campfire with his water bottle leaving all three of them in complete darkness.
“What the hell?!”
“I wouldn’t linger too long out here.” Zhonglin’s voice calls from an indeterminable location.
