The Secret Sea - (Chaptered Version)

9*

Mister Sanchez and his perky receptionist are nice enough as they help me clean up the vomit, but it's clear I won't be working for Land and Home anytime soon. After apologizing profusely, I rush out the door and sprint into the alley, searching for the source of the noise. "Where are you?" I shout to potholes, weeds, and a few trash cans. At a loss, I turn away and walk toward my car, waiting for my pulse to slow.

I finally find a measure of calm while retreating from the source of my hallucination. I'm surprised to see Steven leaning against the brick wall of the coffee shop near my parking spot. His shimmering black ten-speed is beside him.

"Yo, Tim," says Steven with a wave. "Your meter ran out, so I slapped in another quarter for you."

"Oh, thanks," I reply. "What are you doing here?" I realize I've never had a conversation with the guy without Eve hovering somewhere nearby.

"There's a hobby shop on the corner where I get my train stuff. I wandered over here to get a latte and saw your car, so I thought I'd hang around for a bit and see if you showed up. You did. How did the interview go?"

I'm losing my mind and I threw up on a desk. "Good," I say. "We'll see what happens."

"Nice!" says Steven, pumping his fist in the air.

Steven's genuinely a nice guy and I hate him for it because I'm a jealous, petty person. "Hold up...did you say train stuff?"

"Yeah, didn't you know I have a model railroad in the basement? All HO scale."

I shake my head in disbelief. "I thought the only people who ran model trains were World War Two veterans trying to distract themselves from their PTSD...no offense."

Steven laughs. "Well, my granddad got me into this, so yeah, that's actually pretty accurate. I suppose I can't escape my urge to build things."

"Makes sense," I say, forcing some interest to my face. "Well, I better head back. I have a few more applications to fill out...just in case, you know." I want to fall face-first on my tiny bed and sleep until morning.

"Ah, I gotcha. Hey, mind giving me a lift back to the house? I'm sure your hatchback can hold this thing if I take the wheels off." Steven shakes his sack. "I don't mind riding back but since you're here and all..."

"Yeah, no problem," I tell him, opening the Geo's hatch. After some tenuous spatial reasoning, we get the bike to fit and I close the latch.

"Snug as a bug," says Steven, grinning. "Sorry the handlebars are jabbing into your seat."

"No problem," I say, as we get into the car. I pop a piece of gum in my mouth to mask the taste of vomit and take off toward the house.