The Things We Bury - Part 1: In Anticipation of the End of the World [Completed]

Chapter 8: Sacrifice (Part 6 of 6)

Some days, it was hard to move forward.  It felt as though there were hooks in his skin pulling him back.  He had to force himself to drag his body through the daily routine.  Brushing his teeth, showering, shoving tasteless food down his throat were all done automatically—robotically.  And days blurred into months.

"The nightshift again?  People are going to start to think you're a vampire or something."  Delgado's joke was forced.  His smile faked.

Jamie Haddad never made small talk when he passed through the security center.  Barely ever spoke at all.  His coldness made the Major and the other guards visibly awkward around him.

"I like the quiet." Jamie said, raising his arms to allow the wand to circulate around him.  It's the most he had spoken to them all week.  "And it doesn't really matter when I do my work."

"Well, it should be pretty quiet down there now.  Ms. Kendrick just left.  You should be the only person until morning."

"Yes, the only person."  He didn't try and hide the sarcasm from his tone, which elicited a curious look from Delgado.  Sometimes Jamie forgot that the above ground workers didn't know about Amy.

Cleared through security, he stepped onto the elevator and prepared for the long ride down.

September 14th.  The date rang in his head like a mournful bell.  It was his and Glen's anniversary.  Exactly eight years ago, they had their first date.

They had met for dinner at a seafood place in the city.  It was near the bay and would have seemed like some tourist spot if it weren't for the chic Nordic wood on the walls, the industrial iron chandeliers, and the crisp, white linen tablecloths.  Jamie had gotten there early and became increasingly more conscious of his dorkiness as he waited.  His shirt collar was too tight but in the mirror, at home, he hated how it flopped to one side when the top button was undone.  His hair hung over the frames of his glasses making them feel conspicuous.  He pulled his hair back with his sweaty hands and drew it into a ponytail that began to creep back the moment he released it.

He still couldn't believe that Glen had asked him out.  The man was from another world.  Jamie lived in a universe of theories and statistics.  Glen inhabited the solid, real world—a realm of physical labor and direct actions that led to concrete results.

Glen had been renovating the townhouse next door all summer long.  He was a general contractor and a professional house flipper.  The man had been an object of curiosity while he labored on the old tenement.  Most of the time he could be seen in a tight white shirt and naturally distressed jeans, ordering his crew around and carting in supplies of hardwood flooring, drywall, and lumber, like it weighed nothing.

However, on the fall evening that Glen finally asked him out, his usual rugged look had been replaced by an Italian wool suit with a conservative blue tie.  There had been some attempt to coif his hair, even if it only was some gel slicked back with his fingers.

Jamie was on his way home from work, cursing that he had been forced to park so far from home—grumbling over office politics or his unreasonable workload—when he turned the corner and his vision focused in on Glen.

The street was cast in the gray light of a quickly vanishing afternoon and it gave clarity to the scene that full daylight never could.  He was coming down the steps of his townhome with a petite woman in an elegant skirt suit.  They walked together smiling and chatting, looking like they were on their way out for a night on the town.  The two of them stopped in front of a new BMW and lingered, their bodies just inches from each other.

Jamie felt the dual twinge of bitter jealousy and self-conscious foolishness that can only materialize by the disappointing failure of a fantasy relationship.