Chapter 2: The Swan

“Smell,” he said.

Annabelle closed her eyes and breathed in the warm nostalgia of her favorite honey-sweet scent. Her soul dissipated towards the outstretched wings of the Swan constellation.

“Xander, I’m coming,” her soul screamed through the heavens.

A wall of mist greeted Annabelle’s soul upon reaching the constellation; it felt like love, hope, and something so familiar that it stunned her like a heart attack.

She had only one thought as she flew through the warm, Misty clouds toward the light of a glistening blue ocean below her.

“Who’s Super now!”

Feeling a surge of joy and peace as she breathed in the fragrant air that tasted like cotton candy. She glided down towards a green Island oasis encircled by the stilled glass sheen aquamarine water reflecting the ringing bell of blue ocean water above and island like a mirror of perfect harmony. The hole it sat enveloped by was like a gaping wound that never healed, bleeding water endlessly with cascades of constantly roaring seawater, six miles in diameter of the soundless depths below.

The black sand beach welcomed her toes with its warmth and wetness when she landed and walked along the tideless water, Annabelle looked back to see her footprints miles behind where she landed and two figures coming towards her, holding each other as they walked in Love’s warm embrace.

“Bruce!” yelled Annabelle in a shock of realization as the men got closer.

Bruce looked peeringly towards Annabelle and smiled with elation as he ran to hug her, welcoming her home.

“About time; what took you so long, old lady.”

Annabelle laughed as she replied, “I didn’t fire the starting gun and had no control over the finish line either.”

“True,” said Bruce with a smile as his partner caught up to their reunion.

“Who is this?” asked Annabelle.

“This is Oliver,” beamed Bruce, “He is my Heart.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Oliver stumbled, “I’ve heard everything about you.” he smiled broadly.

“Bruce, why didn’t you tell me you were gay?” 

“You would have encouraged me too much; life was already painful, and more disappointment in a world built on Hate wasn’t worth it.”

“Here, though,” Bruce breathed as he put his arm around Oliver and stretched out his other arm.

“Here, we are free to be exactly who God made us to be without all the Hate, Shame, and Oppression of opinions.”

“True,” Annabelle smiled.

“So, how did you two meet,” she asked gleefully.

Both men answered simultaneously, “Do you want to see.” 

They both put a hand up to her temple and forehead. Close your eyes and repeat after me, Bruce explained.

“I wander so I may Wonder.”

Annabelle’s echoed recitation faded her reality into the drizzly dream that came with the hush of a memory.

“I wander; so I may Wonder, both for the prize of “Wonderful Thoughts”; but also for the knowledge which comes from an “Understanding Idea,” conceived while Wandering…”

“Time never changes,” thought Bruce.

“Life is like walking nowhere but seeing the landscape of everywhere on a multi-directional pad I can’t see but know exists.” 

“Sunny, my ass,” he growled.

“Can’t the news ever get it right?”

The sky was still blue and clear as he drudged through the oddly placed downpour. His jeans and the Grey denim hoodie hiding his blonde hair aided him while his hands found safety inside its pockets. All of this, however, did nothing to help his feet. Bruce’s blue eyes contorted with each sopping step he took past the ultra-luxury cars parked next to the ten-dollar tent city downtown had become.

Like the poor of the city, his feet found only the cold, wet rainstorm of punishment and abuse. Anger and Justice are bought and paid for commodities of the rich in Hell’s Kitchen. Despite the heavy presence of security and cameras, Justice for the Poor was non-existent and oppressive: “Irregardless of Right,” the greed of the mighty always won. As bad as this city was, there were worse places to be. At least Chloe was here, and “The Unity Bar” wasn’t going anywhere.

Regardless of the weather, Bruce always stopped to marvel at the sign a few feet from its entrance. The bar got its name from the “U shape” its sign took; it was The Pub-LIC, and the neon wasn’t what transfixed the eye.

Descending downward from the end of the sign were the words “Live IN Confidence,” with Confidence bent backward ending on the same “E” as Live. The word IN shined an oppressive Blue, contrasting the white light of the other letters, and a red triangle went around the letters” INi.”

Chloe was the owner/bartender, and everyone respected her rules. She made it simple, though; she had only one:

“Don’t be an Asshole, the Hate stays Outside.”

The why, for everyone’s respect, was unclear until today. In the year Bruce had been coming to her bar, no one had ever pushed the rule posted on the front door. Occasionally unrest sparked, but as soon as her head perked up and she had those “What the fuck did I just hear” eyes come out. Whispers and fearful eyes calmed everyone down.

Bruce always assumed that the fearful looks were actorial and the whispers sounded like this:

“Dude shut the fuck up, and we get a free drink.”

As soon as everyone was seated again, Chloe would always smile and give everyone in the bar a free drink, and life would continue.

Pushing past the door began like every other day before as he and Chloe performed their customary greeting upon arriving at his seat.

“Hey Bruce, how’s it going?” Chloe said with a smile.

“Living the Dream!..”

“Not mine, but somebodies,” he added with more snark than smirk.

“Better a dream than a nightmare,” she replied.

“It feels like a nightmare, but life could be worse,” he thought as the doors swung open, blasting Bruce with the last dash of sunset’s harness. Time felt frozen; his chest felt like a pixelated hummingbird as his heart beat somewhere between so slow he thought he might die and so fast he might still die. Was it the light from the sun that blinded him or the man walking through the door?

Oliver smiled, and like a thunderclap, time started moving when Bruce realized he had been staring the whole time. He turned, grabbed his beer, and finished it in a single chug. Bruce appeared panicked as he pushed his glass forward for a refill.

“What the fuck is your face doing right now” poked Chloe as she poured him another beer.

“Yes,” said Bruce as he slammed the beer again and pushed it forward repeatingly.

“Do you need to take a shit; that wasn’t an answer to my question,” Chloe chuckled as she poured another beer, deeply interested in what had him so frazzled.

“What the fuck should I say” thought Bruce. Should I tell her I think I just saw; I don’t even fucking know. Is this Love, or just take your clothes off? One, I know for sure, but is it the other, too? 

“Can Love even happen like that? If anyone would understand, it would be Chloe. She doesn’t allow any hate in her bar.”

“Hey, dipshit, you’re doing it again,” Chloe said in more concern than camaraderie.

“Are you ok?” she asked as she touched his hand.

Bruce looked down briefly to gain his composure for a conversation he had never had. “Well… Do you believe in Love at First Sight,” he asked. “I think I’m in love,” Bruce said with a half smile, trying not to show his excitement because it wasn’t real yet.

“Really?”

“Did it just happen? Is that why your face looked so stupid,” she teased.

“It is,” Bruce smiled, “and unfortunately, you weren’t the only one to notice, so the hand has been dealt as my father would say.”

“Stupid face,” he laughed out loud.

“Listen; don’t think I can’t, Bluff,” Bruce said to change the subject yet still talk about it. “I can; you will see me at the card game on Friday. I was just caught off guard, is all. Can I have another beer and an ice water,” he said with a please and a smile.

“You can,” she paused. “As payment, I’ll take a head nod towards who so I can tell you everything I know with even more info than DaNi could gather,” Chloe negotiated.

DaNi stands for “Digitally Artificial Neural Intelligence,” it is essentially everything that connects us to the operating system or direct access servers that feed our cooperative society. Everyone runs on it, and all information has an open-access portal, but the user holds their personal data; companies are no longer allowed to. Each person is given a specific toned ripple, and if anything doesn’t match their tide, it throws alarms off immediately. It’s like a personal assistant and an ID card; most people wear them in jewelry, but some have housing units implanted to wear them because they are our physical digitized footprint.

About the time Chloe set down Bruce’s drinks, a loud voice rang out for attention.

“What are you doing out around normal people, you dirty piece of shit!”

Curtis Curd was standing inches from Oliver, yelling at him with his fingers buried in Oliver’s chest.

“Hey, friend,” Chloe interjected as she walked towards them. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but you are breaking our only rule here.”

“Get back behind the bar bitch; this has nothing to do with you,” Curtis croaked. Everyone in the room but Bruce seemed to pucker their assholes all at the same time physically. 

As Chloe shot Curtis a smile, she raised her left fist to eye level, where a red ring of fire encircled her cornea, and her hand ignited in flames. “This is my bar, Bitch,” Chloe assaulted back. “I think you are the one who should back away from my friend, friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” Curtis coiled as he stepped back, releasing a silent yet noxious scent from the shit he almost took in Fear and shock at her powers.

“That’s where you are wrong,” Chloe softened; only my friends are allowed in this bar. My friends know Not to be an Asshole; because in here, Hate isn’t Tolerated. 

“People who aren’t my friends end up as toasted marshmallows. Inside these four walls is my world; I can’t control the world, but I own mine, and I make the rules here. Now, you can stay or go, but disrespect won’t be tolerated,” Chloe continued.

“Well, you don’t know who my father is,” cut Curtis.

“Well, you aren’t your dad, and whoever he is doesn’t frighten me; I’ll burn his house to the ground while he is asleep, the same as you,” her eyes burned hotter.

“I fear no one but the Apathy of a silent voice, and do you hear anyone coming to your defense in here? You should be afraid of the silence as well. I will cook you where you stand, give everyone a free drink, and wish you well with hope for your next life in a toast as I sweep you into the trash.” Your life could be as painful as the suffering you inflict; killing you would be a kindness with what I could do to you.

“DaNi, please pull up everything you can on the man I’m looking at right now,” Chloe said. “I want everything you can find on him, from his tax records to his sperm count; also, I would like you to hack into his private archives and find any embarrassing dick pics he might have saved.”

“The man in front of you is Curtis Curd, and I’ve located all of the info you requested and found over 200 such photographs through his portal,” said DaNi into Chloe’s ear. “Thank you, DaNi.” 

“Prepare to send the most damaging photo through all his social accounts with the following statement and lock him out. My cock is so small it’s laughable to call me a man, but my throat is open to anyone who is one,” said Chloe.

Heat rises, and a panic engulfs his body, showing its color and his rising Fear as it floods his face. “Why are you trying to kill me,” he cried.

“Why were you trying to kill him,” Chloe shot back.

“I was just having some fun,” Curtis characterized.

“Well, I’m about to have a whole lot of fun,” she said with a wink.

Fear leaked out of his pants as he fell backward into his seat. Chloe sat in the chair across from him as if they were two friends having a simple debate while the rest of the bar went on as if nothing was happening.

“What is your favorite number,” asked Chloe with an inquisitive softening.

Curtis looked bewildered by the question as he stumbled for his answer. “I like to win, so I would have said One,” chortled Curtis, “but I just pissed myself.”

“Fair enough,” Chloe laughed compassionately. “My favorite number is Nine; Nine mathematically proves the existence of God through INFINITY if viewed in the correct light.”

Without nine, there could be no zero; without zero, we could never have realized ten, and without ten, Infinity would be science fiction that the world’s religions would burn into obscurity. 

Nine is my favorite, but it would be nothing without “the invisible zero,” which shares itself with everything else.

Nine is a mirror number, like duality looking back at itself. The number itself is dualistic; it’s a zero hanging on to the top of a one like a balloon on a stick.

0 9 

1 8 

2 7 

3 6 

4 5 

5 4 

6 3

7 2 

8 1

9 0 

“If you start with a zero and count to nine descending downwards, then put a zero behind the nine and count back upwards to nine, you get all the multiples of nine. Nine has an invisible zero, like a DNA strand of numbers, which is incomplete without the starting zero. Infinity was born within the whole, and “Whole” means Unity.”

Chloe motioned Curtis’s attention to the person taking the stage; “Listen to what this person has to say,” Chloe asked without asking.

“Hello, everyone,” came the soft, humble voice from center stage; “this is my poem; I hope you like it,” they said meekly.

I am an American.

I owe “You” no apologies, nor will I accept those apologies made for me by others. If you dislike me, you despise me not for what I am but for what you are not. 

With my sweat, I have created my life, which I have ch-o-sin and desire freedom for all humans.

To the world, I have shared my worth in giving my blood and effort, not because of obligation, but by my own Freewill.

I have fed the world’s starvation; many bit my hand in anger from the hurt and abuse they have been forced to suffer; I used the other hand.

I defeated all my enemies in silent and violent battle, then pulled them and myself up from the ashes of defeat. Once strong, they again attacked; I turned the other cheek because Forgiveness doesn’t work “without Forgiveness.”

Though I am strong and shouldn’t use my strength to rule others, don’t misjudge me. I will not allow the Fear of my own power to become my weakness or apathetic nature; if you wish to Rise, I will give you a helping hand.

But by the grace of God, and I’ll first be damned; if I will let you drag me down to feel equal. Rise because I will not fall into “your violence.”

I will Fly!

A vibrant applause filled the room as D. Ault stepped back into the shadows.

“Zero is the only single-digit number,” Chloe continued. “The rest work in partnership with zero even if we don’t see it in maths. Forgetting the invisible zero in 1-9 is like forgetting the Love god has for all his children, especially the ones you dislike.”

“I share all this with you, Curtis,” said Chloe, “To show you the power and inclusiveness within humility and what “we lose” in the violence and belittlement our Hate and Anger force upon others.”

“You decided to be a prick because of something you don’t like but which is none of your business,” Chloe added. “You are both NPCs in each other’s background; his choices aren’t yours to control, criticize, or belittle.” 

“DaNi cancel request,” Chloe said softly: “Listen, my patience is the only thing that kept you from living the hateful, abusive indifference you passed off in your ignorance of his value.”

“You get to make your own choices, but in my house, you only have Option A and Option B.”

“What options are those,” Curtis croaked.

“Apologize and go back to drinking separately; while you each go about your business or Burn Bitch,” Chloe said in playful jest.

Curtis turned, and for the first time in his life, he looked at Oliver standing before him; shame, Fear, and desperation filled his face, and he saw his reflection. He stood up, shook Oliver’s hand, and apologized. 

Turning towards the door, he left in quiet contemplation; the words above the entrance took him into the cold night air. “Inner Nobility Ignites”

Chloe stood up and walked back over to an awe-struck Bruce. “So,” she said excitedly, “Who is it,” as if nothing else had happened.

“The man whose life you just saved,” Bruce blushed.

“That’s Oliver,” Chloe beamed. “Funnily enough, he will be at the poker game on Friday as well; you better work on your poker face,” she laughed.

“Yeah, stupid face,” said Bruce as he caught Oliver smiling back at him.

Annabelle’s vision was again on the beach with Oliver and Bruce, tears falling from everyone.

“That was beautiful,” said Annabelle.

The scenery seemed to glow vibrantly as Annabelle’s memory whispered her heart’s name, “Xander.”

Bruce frowned for the first time, “He isn’t here…”