Spontaneity [On Indefinite Hold]

Spontaneity: Prologue

I spared Angel a small glance. She seemed not to be aware of anything that was being said around her. She remained quietly subdued. Her eyes still hadn’t opened, although she was sitting relatively straight between Paula Mabel and Aaron Villan.

Fumbling clumsily into my jeans pocket for my mobile phone, I made an act of scrolling through my contacts list and swiping right at the name of the person I wanted to call. Pressing the phone to my right ear, I waited.

My head drooped a little to the right before the receiver of my call picked up, four rings later.

His voice wasn’t a drunken one, but his did sound mildly groggy. “Hello…?”

“Hey, uh… Dante,” I tried to speak as clearly as I could into the phone.

“Eh… Martin? That you?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“A… favor? At this time?”

“Yeah, I… I really need a ride home, man,” I winced a little as sharp pain erupted on the side of my head.

“Huh? Why? Where are you?” Dante gave a long, dragging yawn in between his last two questions.

“King’s Head. I, err. I drank one too many,” I answered sheepishly.

There was a rustling sound from the other end. I imagined it had something to do with a comforter being moved around.

“Oh, all right,” Dante grumbled sleepily, “I’ll be at you in thirty minutes.”

“Sure, thanks… And, uh, I said I’d take Angel home, too.”

“What, I’m your chauffeur now? Do I at least get a tip for this?”

I shook my head – typical of Dante to crack a joke on serious occasions.

“Whatever, dude, look. I’ll treat you and the gang out at Banzai next week, all right?” I proposed wearily.

“That sounds like a plan.”

“Right, now pick us up, please?”

“Don’t get your pants in a wad; I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up and prayed I’d make it another half hour without throwing up or blacking out. Moreover, I prayed Angel could do the same – she wasn’t looking too good.

Exactly a half hour later, I received a text from Dante, telling me that he was right outside the pub, out in front. After saying somewhat sincere goodbyes to those with enough sobriety to listen, I put an arm around Angel, got her to her feet, and assisted her as we made our way past crowded tables and busy staff members on our way to the main entrance. Angel wasn’t being an easy person to support; her legs seemed to barely move and each stride of hers took too long to complete. However, I managed to get the both of us out the main doors without incident.

The second we were outside in the parking lot, I felt the cold air blast my face with the force of a slap to the cheek. The flow of air was so sudden that it threatened to topple me and consequently, Angel backwards for a moment before I managed to steel my legs.

The snow that had been falling in sheets all day had stopped sometime when we were inside the King’s Head Pub. It was almost May, meaning that it was technically spring. In Calgary, though, snow could keep falling as far as mid-May. Then, summer usually came next and stayed until the end of August. Spring weather was brief here.

The sky was pitch black and the air was only getting more and more frigid by the minute. Securing my arm more tightly around Angel’s shoulders, I glanced left and right to find Dante.