Uncharted

Cody thrived in his well-controlled world. He worked hard and played video games into the night. The vitality of the game’s characters inspired him. If they wanted something, they took it with style.

He envied characters untethered by imposed social niceties. He loved exploring the secrets hidden within each new level. He wanted that life.

Onscreen, his life was simple and direct. Those who dared interfere with his desires for a woman, a car or other treasures found life was brutish and short.

Cody’d been up all night. And he’d left no one standing.

His warehouse shift began soon. He rinsed his face and tried to focus.

Cody entered the kitchen and walked to the coffee maker. Finding the pot missing confused him. Then he saw Amber, his sister, downing her last gulp at the table.

“Any for me?”

“I thought you’d gone. I’ll make you some.”

“Never mind. Late. Grab some en route.”

Cody punched in on time. He went to receiving and pitched in unloading a truck. Coffee was his lifeline.

On afternoon break, he held a coffee and leaned on a desk. Zack, his friend and workmate, joined him.

Cody said, “I’m beat. Need to find something different.”

“You mean work or gaming?”

“Can’t quit gaming… so, work.”

“Yeah, you were still going strong when I quit at two.”

“On a roll. Never did sleep. But no one could touch me.”

“No sleep?”

Cody nodded and held up his coffee. “Cheers…”

“That can’t be healthy, man. Gotta sleep.”

“Sleep’s for the weak.” They laughed. “Remember when we beat the crap out of… whatsisname…? George?”

Zack nodded. “Yeah, I did the beating though. That time…”

“Taught him a lesson, alright. You punched him twenty-three times. He never touched you.”

“You pinning his arms back helped.”

“Yeah, Doc Martens are the best. He never bothered us again.”

They laughed.

“Plans for the weekend?”

Cody downed his coffee. “Sleep. You?”

“Friday night clubbing. See how that goes.” His body language said it all.

Another box truck backed into the loading bay.

“Let’s wrap this up and call it a day.”

They returned to work.

~

Cody entered the apartment. Amber moved about the kitchen prepping dinner.

“God! Am I beat. Might skip dinner and sleep.”

“Eat first. You’ll sleep better if you eat too.”

He winced at the clatter of metal on metal.

“Hey! Skip the drum solo?”

Amber turned to him. “It ever cross your mind someone else had a bad day?”

“Yikes… What’s with you? Don’t be so emotional.”

“And go through life like you?”

Cody sighed. He wanted sleep.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re an emotional stick.”

Cody sat. He was too tired for this.

He said, “You make no sense. What’s so great about emotions? Name a few.”

“Uhm… Happy, sad, angry, afraid.”

“Oh boy. What fun. Yay emotions. Why do I ever want to be sad? It’s depressing. And fear’s a waste of time.”

His flat intonation revealed how tired he felt.

“Ah, but you hold anger close.”

“Sorry, not sorry, Amber. No time for navel gazing.”

“Too busy fighting battles?”

I’m not at war. I’m living my life. I’m tired. Who cares?”

“You’re my brother. I care.”

He stifled a yawn.

“Those are words, sis. Not real. Anyone do anything solid with them? Invent something? Build a city?”

“Awaken to emotions, Cody. Engage with people. Experience the world on a deeper level. Surprise yourself.”

“I unload trucks. You want me to bond with a box?”

“I feel sorry for you. Imagine if you could share tenderness.”

“Oh! Boohoo! This is straight out of wanky romance novels. No one actually feels this stuff. Your library’s all pulp.”

Amber regrouped while attending to the dinner prep.

She said, “Speaking of pulp, how do you waste so much time on those idiotic games?”

“Why do you care?”

“It’s not real. It’s a cartoon.”

“It could be real. Should be real. You don’t get it. Life would be so simple without all this weepy drama everyone’s addicted to. People need to toughen up.”

“I know. Some people’s emotional terrain is so barren. So flat.”

“Some people need sleep.”

“A fine excuse.”

“You want moody? I can throw stuff if you want.”

“What are you afraid of? Emotions? Why spend all your time hiding from them?”

Cody pushed a fork off the table. It clattered to the floor.

“Stop! Forget I said anything. If I need a hammer, I’ll call you. But sometimes a fine brush works better.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Everything guys want is things. Is that really all you want?”

“Every – thing… everything is things, Amber.”

“What if someone stole your X-box?”

“It’s not an X-box.”

“I don’t care. What would you do?”

“Kill them.”

“So you’d kill for a thing.”

He nodded with a sigh. “But I don’t get…”

“But not a person. You and Zack see women, see everything as things. I want to be wanted, not possessed.”

Cody perked up. “What’s Zack got to do with this?”

“Never mind. Don’t you ever feel lonely? Ever want love?”

“Seriously... What’s Zack…?”

“Not important. Don’t change the subject.”

“You brought him up. Why? What’d he do?”

“Nothing. Same stupid stuff.”

“Like?”

She lowered the flame under the pan. Cody approached her. She turned at his touch.

“Did he hurt you? Where?”

“No… yes. Not physically. I hurt myself.”

“Oh… emotions again?”                

“He’s cold.”

“I told you to stay away from him.”

Cody grabbed his jacket.

“Wait. Where’re you going?”

“No place.”

“Dinner’s ready.”

“Gonna kill him.”

“Cody, stop. You can’t kill someone because you disagree.”

“Watch me.”

“You don’t know anything, Code. If I wanted him dead, I’d kill him.”

Cody stopped but remained silent.

Amber stepped forward. “Don’t believe me?”

“Didn’t say that…”

He felt sapped. He sat and rested his head on the table.

Almost to himself, “What’s for dinner?”

“Cold hot dogs. Hold the relish.”

“What?” He sat up.

“Mmmm! Smell it! How you like it, safe and predictable. No heat.”

“You’re nuts.”

“Not nuts. How about soup?”

“Soup? For dinner?”

“A gumbo? Gazpacho? A paella? Broth?”

He murmured. “No.”

“There are variations, Cody. Life isn’t one lonely note played again and again. It’s a symphony. Look at dogs. Or trees. Which ice cream attracts you?”

“A symphony?”

“Not only marches, you know? How about a jig? A waltz? A pavane… or a bolero?”

“I don’t dance.”

“Channel your anger. You get to decide. Curiosity at what caused it. Hope for an amicable resolution.”

“Amber… I’m beat.”

“Dread of betrayal. Sorrow. Loneliness at a broken trust… And trust that you can resolve it.”

He stood. “I’ll eat out. I can’t do this...”

“Suspense for what happens next. Compassion for those injured…”

He looked at her. She wiped her eyes. He touched her shoulder.

He whispered, “Pride… or joy at renewing connections.”

She nodded, sobbed, and fell into his embrace.

Cody said, “I’m sorry, sis. Not good at opening flood gates. I lose control, how do I stop it?”

She held his shoulders. “Floods pass, Cody. Every time. Think of the energy spent pushing it back. What you might find in the muck…”

He nodded. “Okay... Uncharted territory. I’ll sleep on it.”

Cody turned away but stopped at the door.

“Save a hot dog, okay? I’ll be hungry tomorrow.”

She chuckled. He smiled, looked down, waved and left the room.

Amber served a plate of stew and sat. After a taste, she dashed some salt and mopped some gravy with a bread crust.