NEVERYWHERE
Part 5:
Nancy Killiam & William McIntyre
1
Identity: William McIntyre
A brilliant carpet of stars hung above us on the moonless night, somewhere in the Adirondacks of upper New York State. Our campsite was nestled between towering firs at the side of a lake. We’d barely finished the canoe trip and portage to get here before nightfall, and we were all spent. A deep silence settled between us over the hissing and popping of the campfire. I was almost completely relaxed for once—almost.
“It’s so peaceful out here,” I said, leaning forward to pick up a stick and poke at the embers of the fire. I could feel a breeze blowing across my backside, but I let it go for now.
“You got that right,” replied Bob, sitting next to Martin on my left, both of them slumped comfortably in their folding camp chairs. Bob was balancing a beer on his knee.
“Yes, sir,” added Wally, my proxxi, sitting right next to me. He saw me toss my empty can into the fire. “Do you want another beer?”
“No thanks. I’m good.”
Stirring the embers, I watched the sparks dance as they escaped from the charred wood. Rubbing my hands, I extended them toward the warm coals; it was going to be a cold night. A loon called out from the blackness above the lake with a haunting wail. Nearly time to go.
“This is amazing,” drawled Bob. He stared at the fire for a moment. “Hey, Willy, did you catch the slingshot tests this morning?”
He took another swig from his beer, grinning at me. He was usually smiling, the lucky bum. Then again, he didn’t have it that easy.
“Sure, kind of impossible to miss,” I replied. “Were you with your family?”
He laughed, looking up at Sid and Vicious, who were sitting across the campfire from us. “Nah, Sid and I were out in Humungous Fungus, watching the mash-up version.”
I grinned. “Bet that was fun.”
“Sure, but my dad gave me a lot of trouble when I got home.”
Wally pinged me with an alert. Oh shoot.
“Oh, ah, Martin,” I blurted out awkwardly, “happy birthday, by the way.” It always confused me how Bob’s birthday was one day, and Martin’s the next.
Martin smiled, looking up at me from the fire.
“Thanks, Willy,” he laughed, then looked at Bob. “And Dad wasn’t really mad, you know, he’s under a lot of pressure.”
“I know,” replied Bob. “I’m sorry. Thanks for covering for me.”
“That’s what brothers are for,” chuckled Martin, shaking his head. “Right?”
“Yeah,” sighed Bob heavily, “that’s what brothers are for.”
An uncomfortable silence descended, and everyone stared down at the ground, everyone, that is, except Martin. He looked around at us all with wide eyes. “What, did somebody die or something?”
Bob snorted, shaking his head. “Just forget it.”
“Forget what?”
“Just forget it,” snapped Bob. “You will no matter what anyway.”
More uncomfortable silence.
“I can’t believe more people don’t come out into nature to experience this,” Bob said after a while, changing the topic. “It’s amazing. You know, doing things with your own two hands, getting back to the basics.”
Now everyone nodded except Martin, who’d returned to staring blankly into the fire.
“Yeah,” I agreed, but Bob could always read my moods.
“You still worrying?” he asked me.
“Nah.”
“Yeah you are. I can tell. Everything will be fine. It always is.” He smiled. “Even when it isn’t.” He tossed his beer can into the fire.
The wind changed direction and began pushing the smoke from the fire directly into Vicious, Sid’s proxxi.
“Mates, it’s been a real pleasure,” coughed Vicious, “but I’ve ‘ad about enough. This nature shite is not for me.” He held up his hands and willed the wind to shift again, forcing it to blow away from him.
“Come on,” laughed Sid. “We’re having a nice time here! Tough it out a little!”
The spell was broken, however, and the suspension of disbelief cracked, revealing the grainy quality of the fire and the hollow texture of the night. It all began to feel fake, and a heavy weight fell back across my shoulders. “I think I’m going to get going, too.”
“Surfing tomorrow, though, right?” asked Bob.
“Sure thing, wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I lied.
I gave a perfunctory wave to the gang, and without another word, the campsite faded away, replaced by the white, featureless confines of my apartment. Wally was still sitting beside me, though now on the convertible couch of my tiny living space. My digs could, at best, be described as minimalist. Real space on Atopia came at a premium price, one I couldn’t afford.
“Don’t worry so much, Willy,” said Wally.
“Easy for you to say. You don’t live in this pill box.”
“Well, yes and no, Willy,” Wally noted, watching me carefully. “Look, I’ve never said this before, and I’m not sure why I’m saying it now, but.…”
I waited. “What?” Why is my proxxi getting weird on me? As if I didn’t have enough to worry about.
He looked steadily at me. “William, I just wanted to make sure you know, well, that I love you.”
I was slightly stunned, and he saw it.
“Not in a weird way,” he added quickly. “I mean, as brothers, you know.” He smiled and waited for me to respond.
“Yeah, thanks,” I said slowly, not sure of what to do with this. “Look, I appreciate that, and I like you, too, Wally.”
He kept smiling at me. I have to talk to someone at Cognix technical support about this. I had lot of work to get done. I didn’t need this.
“Look, I’m fine,” I finally told him. “Let’s just focus on the here and now, okay?”
Switching topics to the work at hand, the walls and features of my apartment morphed outward into the sea of displays that were my workspace. I had a busy day tomorrow and wanted to get a jump start on organizing myself for the big meeting with Nancy Killiam, the head of the new tech company, Infinixx, I was contracting with. Wally and I worked well into the night, pulling and pushing masses of financial data through the deep reaches of the multiverse, trying to make sense of the rapidly accelerating world around us.