Hector

Indiscretely, somewhat secretly, we hide a calender underneath a block of wood holding current books we read on a flat surface for appeal; Mighty is the only person who is aware of our shame. As we flip off the board, a sharp wave out of a great white's sting spits us back onto a shore, we are unsure where; destination is a list of numbers with institutional names for days. Monday is a moody work beginning while a moon waits for us to notice. Tuesday is two of a kind captured during a split of horizon for light to dark. Wednesday divorces the two for us to watch weddings writhing pessimism. Thursday thwarts our attention elsewhere for turmoil to persist into Friday's frigid emotion of frivolous spending motioning Saturday to sit contemplating how we set down goals for days passing into night until Sunday rests for a flaming ball to remind us of the sun which burns our skin, we still like him though, he seems to be a nice man despite the fire in his eyes.

Our woe is a list of numbers; our uncertainity becomes how many. We walk past our Uncles' bodegas for countless blocks until a face stops us in our selfish tracks. A slender cleft chin grinds underneath sloping snow cheeks sorrowful of ice cube gray eyes while caramel coffee douses butterscotch fingers captivating a brewing cup standing next to me.

"What's he doing?"

"Inventory..."

"How do you know?"

"Uncle Moe does that every now and again..."

"It's your Uncle's store?"

"He used to be my Uncle I guess..."

"What happened?"

"He didn't want me around anymore."

She is brown sugar to stir into a mixture of swirling steam.

"What's your name?"

"He calls me Jo. What's your name?"

"They call me Pookah."

"Who is they?"

"People in the neighborhood..."

"Oh..."

"You used to work in there?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh."

"You know that guy's name?"

"Yeah...his name is Hector."

"How do you know his name?"

"I found out from the lady he stays with."

"You seen him around?"

"Yeah I went over there to talk to her about him. She told me he's trying to get his green card or something. I just wanted to know if he had a girlfriend."

"You want to be his girlfriend?"

"I'll see you..."

I want her to be his girlfriend.

Mouse looks different latey, I do not know what to make of this change; my twin and I are not open for discussion. You Know Who is...

"It's going to be alright. You're not used to it."

We are faith in him; he looks the same.

"I think I gained some weight..."

"No it's your back muscles; must be from packing boxes."

"Yeah you're stronger now."

"On the outside but not the inside. You guys got smaller..."

"Yeah..."

"Didn't even notice..."

Mighty did...

"Whenever you guys get upset you don't eat much and you stop jogging. When you feel stressed out you eat more but you don't jog. When you feel like you're going to make it is when you eat and work out alright. I don't know how to balance you out."

Neither do we; we still do not. Nadia must be in the same predicament as Zoom wherever they may be, always my blood, only one on the same foot I got; I think of her whenever I am a rot. Catri's whereabouts are unknown to me, whatever happens around her is our suffering; I always think of her no matter what.

"History repeats itself..."

"Is that a theory?"

"No it's Quantum Physics."

"How does it stop?"

"When times does..."

"You think time will stop?"

"Absolutely..."

"Why?"

"How?"

"There is no physical property to conclude it exists."

Then why does he look different? Who must Know...

"Emotions we don't understand show feelings on the outside; I guess we keep these within."

Guessing and not understanding is our sadness.

We purposely cross the shops; we traded routes incidentally but there is no difference. Broken hearts will not heal from this; the city is left for discovery while we hope these streets will fill our emptiness. There is still the humongous gap for people we miss.

"Can you pick me up some incense? Nag Champa and Precious Chandan..."

Closest locations for fresh boxes are two homes we cannot return for residence; we agree to do so for You Know as sincere customers instead of family members.

"Hello...welcome..."

"Hi Hector."

He is not wearing a name tag or identification; he is not suspcious either.

"What can I get for you?"

"Precious Chandan 100 count."

"Okay..."

There are two other guys working around him, one is in the back; we look at each other across the counter aware of helpless help.

"Hector, how is Moe?"

"Who?"

"Never mind..."

"Is this all you need to get?"

"Yeah..."

"You skate?"

"No I got a bike."

"Oh...okay..."

"You got a girlfriend Hector?"

"Well sort of I guess..."

"How do you sort of got a girlfriend?"

"We go out sometimes..."

"You ever heard of a girl called Pookah?"

"Think so..."

"She got a thing for you."

His smile is faint of children.

"How do you know that?"

"She sort of told me so..."

"I guess she doesn't like me that much then...sort of...that's not for sure."

"Nothing's for sure I guess..."

"Guess so..."

"Gotta go..."

"Alright catch you later; we are getting a case of some new incense called Big Hit."

"I'll check it out. Good luck with that girl..."

Everything around is a township, whichever one is not directly recognizable by us; suddenly this is realization, wherever we may go will be the same except for people we know.

"We cannot take them with us."

"Where are we going?"

"We are going somewhere."

"Yeah I know..."

"Will the people be different?"

"Maybe we are too attached to them..."

"I adore them..."

"So do I..."

We both cry...

Hector is unpacking black and silver boxes carefully into a corner of shelves out of sight; I want to surprise Who with variety while he meditates a unified mind.

"Is that the Big Hit?"

"Yes, I don't know how much it is yet..."

"Oh...so I can't buy it?"

"Same as the others I guess. Sure no problem..."

You Know has two boxes we both managed to score from the local bodegas which are now slightly strange to us, no longer a place we call home. Our Uncles are distant relatives and we feel disowned.

"There's a guy named Julio that works there now."

"There's a guy named Hector that works at Moe's."

"Well that's that..."

"Yeah but it's really difficult to accept."

Mighty is taking this well; he is leaning on a side of the lounge sofa with a rolled hand under his mouth.

"What about you Mouse?"

"I'll never get over it but I will try..."

That is the best we can do for now. I wish somebody would close the chronicles of happenings; I am tired of the same story being read out loud.

We work at department stores across town stocking shelves; our shifts are for night owls without bobcats and wolves. I leave through the back door while peace waits for me around the corner; I am eager to greet her except she is not there. Uneventful of night I left Quasi the moto for my feet to figure out how I got into this position as I am left to right.

"Did you come back for incense?"

"I came back..."

"Yeah..."

"I'm not sure what I came for...show me something you think I would like."

"How about this box to burn the sticks?"

"Okay..."

"I will throw in a free box."

"Great..."

"Do you stay around here?"

"Yeah...a few blocks away..."

"Oh..."

"Yeah..."

"Sorry it's messy in here..."

"It's not as bad as you think."

"You sure about that?"

"Yeah..."

I left my hemp wallet next to the register; I better go back and get it. I need to cry right now or else I will when I go back inside. I am calm; I will retrieve Old Potluck.

"You came back for your wallet?"

"Yeah sorry about that."

"No big deal it's still here."

"Cool..."

"What's your name?"

"Sunny, that's what my roommate calls me."

"Okay..."

"Do you work a lot?"

"I try..."

"You should come by and meet my roommate Mighty; he will smoke with you if you want."

"Awesome, I can't find any around here."

"He'll go half with you or whatever..."

"You don't smoke?"

"No..."

"Oh..."

"I'll write down some directions for you. Just come by when you get out of here."

"Alright!"

Mouse is excited; he always smokes alone and needs to get a bag anyways. Zoom is underneath his dragon blanket; must of been crying again thinking about Nadia. I will join him later with a lion. You Know Who is nowhere in range to be found but he left a note on the book block.

I'm coming back - Peace

Night is darker than usual; Who is still not here. Zoom rolls over onto my ankle while I watch him toss and turn; I nudged him with my left hand.

"Hey..."

"Hey, that guy Hector was supposed to come over but I guess he had other plans."

"So was Julio..."

"Wonder what happened..."

Mighty is breaking up the last of his ganja; he smokes before laying in bed.

"I'll get it..."

Behind the door two guys are waiting for the same bud to fill their heads.

"I think I got enough."

We open a window and burn some incense. You Know finally walks in...

"Told you I was coming back."

I rather not ask where he has been.

"You guys really don't smoke?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"Doesn't do anything for us..."

"Oh..."

They leave with clasped handshakes of gracious pipedreams while we both sit and stare at a few things surrounding the place. Mouse is asleep; he snores on occasion but that really does not bother us, the sound is not loud. Who is reading a book with a notepad to outline what he understands, the rest he will dissect with courage of his knowledge.

"You think your roommate can help me get a bag?"

"Yeah come on by..."

Pookah is around here somewhere; I thought I heard her voice.

"Thanks man..."

We might as well stay with the stock job; it pays pretty well.

"I saw Hector talking to you."

"Yeah..."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted to get some herb with my friend; want to smoke with him?"

"I don't smoke."

"Neither do I."

"Oh well..."

Damn there she goes again; I wonder if he knows how I feel about that.

"You going to go out with that girl Pookah or what?"

"Yeah I guess!"

There are a couple of kids running around their place.

"How did this happen?"

"You told me about that girl and I said yes."

"Oh yeah..."

I forgot what happened but I still feel the same way. Moments slide away from my ruler; I cannot put the lines together into any equation to make sense. I cannot count each marker because I am stuck in this place. Somehow history is now while I think about what I did. There are so many confusing pictures inside my head, all I know is what I left.

When do we meet? Maybe we never will. I think of Shakespeare and how I learned to play dead. Damn I do that really well; I wonder what is next.