Fifth day back on the job, and it’s been nice. I’ve since gotten back into my groove and the skies seemed clearer now. Today, I’ve driven for around two hours, and taken maybe seven people to their destination. All were pretty much straightforward picks and drop-offs; nothing really special about it. It was around 6 pm when my app beeped. James was my next passenger, and he was… interesting.
As I was driving, I came across a building, the Marks Hotel. It had a hole blown clean through it, like through one of the middle floors. No one knew what happened. In fact no one survived to know how it started. No beams of light just a sudden loud boom before the shattering of windows and the building shaking. The hole was a literally a perfect circle. Probably some magic stuff if I had to bet, but it’s just what we have to deal with now. One of those things where the heroes show up after the event then scratch their heads. All they can do is leave it to the Castodians to fix and the police to investigate and find the person they can go punch.
I arrived at his location, a simple and small suburban home. Boxes and bags were on the sidewalk. Oh crap. Do not let this be an airport run, I thought. Who goes to the airport at this time anyway? The door to the home opened, and he came out. An older woman started yelling as he exited.
“You forgot all of your cereal!” she yelled.
“Just keep it!” he shouted back as he rolled his two luggage bags to my car.
“What?”
“Just keep it! I don’t care!” He knocked on my window, and his face was clearly one of aggravation. “Uber, right?” I nodded and he rolled his bags the trunk and I popped it open for him. That woman looked like his mom, and he looked like an adult. So I put two and two together and figure he must be moving out.
I turned around as he loaded his bags in the trunk. “You need help?”
“Nah, no. I’m fine.”
He’s proud, but he clearly needed help. I saw his legs wobble as he carried one of the boxes. I got out of my car anyway. And he didn’t stop me as I helped him load. “So uh, where you going?”
“Apartment building. Moving out.”
“Oh yeah? Where to?”
“Nilasend. It’s in that Berry Creek area, near the edge.”
“Get out of here. That’s where I live. No way.”
“Oh really?”
“No, I’m just messing around. That’s like the other side of the map.”
He chuckled. “Hey, you mind if I use the backseats too? I don’t wanna cover your back window.”
I scratched my head. This would take up all of the backseats and he did request a rideshare, not an X, but I gave it to him. I can drive without it, but I probably shouldn’t. “Uh… yeah, sure.”
We finished packing the car and got in. I tried my best to start up a conversation because I thought moving out is interesting, especially given what I saw. I kinda wanted to know the reason. “So, moving out, huh? That’s big, right?”
“Uh… yeah,” he replied disinterested.
Detachment. I sighed really light. I wanted him to say something for some reason. This was a boring day, and I think I actually started to miss the whole magic thing that was happening around me. I had that one normal and was fine but this was an extra boring day.
I started the drive and followed the GPS. I knew how to get there, just the immediate area I needed. I glanced at him as I pulled off and decided to give one more swing at it. “So… was that legit like your mom? She looks young.”
He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. “I guess, man.”
I sensed some resentment in his voice. He didn’t want to talk about it, and it got really quiet after that. I figured alright I’ll let it go. I won’t push him like a dick. But then he suddenly broke out of nowhere.
“It’s just she like… she talks too much. That speaking your mind, unfiltered crap. She always yells. It gives me anxiety. It’s like, she yells, I ask her why she’s yelling. She gets mad and yells louder then I get mad and now I’m yelling then we’re arguing… The cycle never ends. I’m so glad to be out of that house. It was like living with an emotional terrorist.”
Wow, I guess he needed to vent. I wondered how long that’s been on his chest. “If she was making you hurt, then yeah. It’s good you got out. Do what’s good for your health. Keep yourself positive and stay around positivity.”
He took a deep breath and looked out the window. He tried pressing the button. “What’s up with your window? It doesn’t lower?”
“Ah yeah, it broke. Recently though. I’m gonna get that fixed really soon.” That was a lie. I didn’t have time to afford to not have my car right now.
“Hmm.” He opened the back window, probably to get some sort of breeze from there. “You alright with your parents?”
“Yeah, we talk every week. They check to see how I’m doing… and I lie, like any child.”
He chuckled lightly. “Yeah … I didn’t know if I could do that. Every week? No, I’m going to need a good year-long break from her.”
“Ah really? Why that long though? I mean they are still your parents. They worry. A text should be doable, right? So you don’t have to deal with hearing her?”
“Dude, even her texts set off my anxiety.” He closed his eyes. “Ugh, it’s just, no. I … I can’t do it.”
I glanced at him as he sat there breathing. I could see his chest move. Wow, he had it really bad.
James turned around and reached for one of his boxes in the back and opened it. “You know, there was this thing when I was younger that I didn’t realize until recently. I’m wondering if it’s just my mom. Your parents ever do that thing where they would buy you something that you didn’t ask for! Then get mad when you don’t use or wear it?”
That’s a symptom of being spoiled. At least, that’s what I believe. “Uh… maybe. But that’s probably because it was a gift. People feel something when you deny their gift.”
He pulled out a bag of plain tortilla chips from one of the boxes and sat back down. “Yeah, but I didn’t ask for it. How could you be mad if you chose the wrong thing?” He tilted his head and shrugged. “They do it to themselves. They don’t buy the things you ask them to get, but then turn around and get something random bauble and expect you to be happy. It’s like, what?”
“Parents like getting appreciation. It’s a… thankless job. They raise you from birth, giving you everything and then you just leave the house, like bye. And they’re just left standing there.”
“No, no, don’t try to do that guilt trap bullshit. That’s what parenthood is, and there’s no trophy for it. Life doesn’t hand you anything. As a parent, you fulfill the basic needs, and they think it means that you owe them something.”
That put a bad taste in my mouth. “But …”
“No, no wait. And they always do that dumb argument of: you’re lucky or other kids have it worse. It’s the same as there are starving kids somewhere in the world, so you should be happy you’re not one of them. It belittles everyone’s problems. All problems are problems. Everyone deals with them differently.”
I’ve seen people hate their parents before but this guy just hates the general behavior parenthood brings. What went wrong? But can I say that? I haven’t lived his life. Would I have become like him if I did? I continued, just to get this one point out. “It’s not hard to… forgive, no wait.” I took a breath. “Everything they do is for you and out of love. They may not know what’s right, but they are trying their best to have you succeed and survive. That’s what they do. And you’re still alive…”
He threw his hands up. “Oh, I’m still alive. What an accomplishment. You kept the thing you birthed alive. Look, I recognize they’re human too. They’re really just kids themselves, right? They just got old and popped out another kid, and were like what the hell is this? It’s just… the entitlement. They think gifts equal the same as love or attendance. When … It’s not the same. Gifts are like receipts of love to them, and they try to throw it in your face. That’s like a pimp. They give you gifts and expect love in return.”
“Alright, come on, really? Is it though? Pimps? Do they force you to use your body to please strangers?”
“Yes, they bring us to social engagements you don’t want to be and show us off when we’re young.”
“You know they can’t leave you at home alone, right? According to the law?”
“Whatever, that was a joke anyway. But do you see where I’m coming from?”
I shrugged. “Sort of,” I said. I didn’t really. I thought he let his own upbringing dictate his view of all parents in general. He was too far gone in my mind, just on this topic. I glanced at him as he crunched on his chips. “I got salsa in the glove compartment if you want.”
“Oh really? Why do you have …” When he opened it, a wad of cash rolled out of it to my surprise. He raised his eyebrows at me. “You run drugs in your spare time or something? The hell is this?”
Confused, my eyes widened as I tried to focus on the road and the cash at the same time. “I have no idea what is that.”
“Uhuh. You a trust fund kid or something? Your parents leave surprise gifts?”
“What? No. I drive for Uber, I’m not rich.”
He picked it up and started counting it. “There’s like 1200 in here.”
I kept repeating what the hell in my mind. It was so confusing. Why is there money in there? Then I remembered the broken window. Did I check the glove compartment when I searched the car? I asked myself. I must’ve glossed over it.
“There’s no salsa in here either,” he said.
Oh, I never replaced the salsa from when Grace spilled it. That’s why I didn’t know about it. I just wiped everything down with vinegar and sprayed it with air freshener. I gasped and remembered Vixel leaving her bag inside the car. How could she use her power to get in my car without a trace? Now that I think about it, it is something she would do. She needed her bag, and this was the only way but she wanted to pay me back for the window as a way of saying sorry. What a strange way of going about it.
James placed the money back in the compartment and continued eating his chips. “I guess you got a gift from Santa then.”
I chuckled a bit. “Yeah…” At this point, I released where the money came from and tried not to show hints, but made it awkward in the process. It definitely seems like I’m a drug dealer now. “So … uh, speaking of money. You can afford to move out. What do you do?”
“I landed this mailman job and cashed out the cryptocurrency I’d been saving to afford rent for a few months.”
“Oh snap, really? That’s cool.”
“I haven’t told anyone that I can whisper paper either, so it’s going to be a breeze.”
“Wait, what? You serious? You can control paper?”
“Yeah, I didn’t tell the job because they might raise the quota, right? Supervisors always try to do some benchmarking bullshit. So I’ll just start really slow, and when they ask me to pick it up, I’ll gradually increase the pace. Like that scene from the Incredibles when Dash is racing. I’ll just be number two to fly under the radar and live easy.”
“Wow, that’s actually really smart…” I said. I was legit excited. Another one. I felt like I was on fire for landing these guys. “Can I see it?”
“Yeah, sure. You got any paper? Oh, I can use the money. Wait, money is made of paper, right?”
“No, it’s cotton. Paper is like trees or something. I have doggie bags though. That should work. Wait, let me just pull over right here.” We were on the highway, and I really couldn’t wait to see him use his magic even though his exit was next up anyway. I dug through my armrest to get the doggie bags. They were kind of buried in there.
He took the bag and I watched him. He moved his hands around like a street magician before it finally lifted into the air between them. Whisperers didn’t have the light show spectacle like whisperers, glyphians, or mages so it seemed like actual witchcraft. It spiraled and folded many times as he bent his fingers. His concentration was focused heavily on the bag, and I finally began to see a shape take hold. “No way,” I whispered. He made a swan out of the paper bag I gave him. “Alright, not only do you have powers, but you can do origami too?”
“I was that weird kid in elementary school. Instead of having friends, I played with paper. Guess I’m lucky, huh?”
“Yeah, that’s awesome.” He handed it over to me, and I examined it. “This is awesome, dude. You’re really good… at this. Wow.” It was honestly really well made. “You ever thought about filming it or something. Maybe like a Youtube video? You can do something with this. People will watch stuff like this.”
“Nah, I said I want an easy life. I couldn’t deal with fans if it were to get big. I couldn’t deal with my mom’s dog following me. I can’t imagine thousands if not millions of human followers. I’d go absolutely insane.”
I tilted my head. I guess it’s for the best then. James went back to eating his chips and staring out at the cars. I sensed he wanted me to go, so I began driving again. “So, can you control trees then?”
“No, I’m not like that Hayley chick from Praxis.”
“What?”
“That group out in Kale. They fought the government and all that?”
“Oh yeah, right.” Everything is solo out here, and I forgot they had groups out there.
“I feel something when I touch trees, but the connection isn’t strong enough, I guess.”
“So what you gonna do when you finish moving in? You could actually make all of your furniture out of paper and save money.”
He laughed. “No, I’m keeping this on the down low, dude. Maybe use it as a party trick. I’m not going to flaunt it around. It’s not really a helpful everyday power.”
“What? You can use it for… uh…”
“See? We use it for disposable trash and writing. That’s it. I can use it for work to sort mail hands-free, and hold more than one paper plate. That’s it.”
“That’s useful. And if you go shopping, you wouldn’t have a problem carrying everything as long as it’s in a paper bag, huh?”
“Sure,” he said before eating his plain chips again.
The conversation pretty much died right here until we finally arrived in front of the apartment building. He got out and I offered my help but he refused. But I still I helped him get all his stuff out on the sidewalk and watched it as he came back and forth just as a favor. Again, he didn’t complain. I think he had a problem asking for help even though he needed it. The type who would never tell you they’re struggling and bare the weight of everything on their own when there is no need to. The type to overwork himself. I admired it on a small level, but it was unnecessary.
I opened my glove box and stared at the money wrapped in a rubber band. “The heck am I going to do with this?” I whispered. “Should I use it for the window? Or pay the rent early?” It couldn’t fit in my pockets, so I closed it back. I’ll think about it later.
He came back for his final box, and I shook his hand. “Good luck, man. Get yourself a fancy dinner at a nice restaurant and don’t care about sitting alone. Treat yourself nice.”
James nodded. “I should, shouldn’t I? I can eat what I want now. Don’t have to worry about being yelled at for not liking something new because she wanted to be experimental today,” he said as he walked away. “Anyway later, man. And thanks.”
I shook my head as I chuckled. It may take years for whatever happened to him to be undone. He needs to be alone to sort it out. I wish the best for him. I got back in my car and stared at the origami swan. I’ll hang this up, I thought. I placed it on my dash then drove off.
Magoch 