METANOIA

ICED TEA

A young couple, an older, slouched man, a designer-looking woman with an Afro, and another business suit had come into the shack before the ferry arrived. The poodle wandered around sniffing every newcomer. Everyone else inside the shack was maintaining the customary distance from each other. Even Stacy had placed herself equidistant from the suits. Except for the occasional nodding of strained recognition, there was almost no interaction between anyone until they boarded the ferry.

The boarding was made especially difficult by the supernatural rain, even though there weren't many travelers. Silas enjoyed the rain washing his tired face. Just as Silas and Stacy hopped on the gangplank, it shook violently to set them back on their course. Silas held on with determination, one he had not felt in years. He grabbed and helped Stacy regain composure before she slipped. She was taken aback but grateful. Silas nodded back in acknowledgment.

He should have just talked to her goddamn it!

Even though the boat was practically empty, Stacy made room next to her, coincidentally as Silas was walking by. Her promising eyes fixed on his. Silas noted the succubus' gaze but did not reciprocate. He knew the patterns. He was on familiar ground and could still turn this around, but just was not interested in playing along. He had to get the address to his friend's house. Maybe even charge his phone. For the first few minutes they were on the boat, she took a peek over her shoulder once or twice but, in time, her attention shifted to the other suit, an easy second choice out of the small pool of people available, a possible source of monetary gains, should the carnal not suffice. It made no difference to her the other business suit harbored a vagina of her own too.

At the moment, Silas' top priority now was to charge his phone so he could reach his friend's and make plans for the rest of the night. He hadn't thought to write their contact information on a piece of paper either. Without his phone he was helpless.

Thought bubbles were popping in and out of Silas' head, and one theme was recurrent. Silas had come to the realization he had not made any significant social plans in a while. He did occasionally go out to bars and other human cesspools. Yet, the only form of socializing he had at those were the successful pickups or failed attempts that occasionally led to fisticuffs with their boyfriends. Lately, he had been swamped with work. This weekend was going to be the first time in a long time he had made plans grander than "going out for a beer." He was looking forward to it.

Silas was texting away frantically to get as much information as he could about how he could get to his friend Misha's house. He didn't notice the water had seeped into the corner of his screen. Using a beam as an even surface, he was trying to write it all down on the back of a receipt he found in his pocket, but the pen he fished out just wasn't willing to play along. Realizing the futility after a few attempts, and not distracted by Stacy's lures, Silas looked for a socket inside the ferry.

Hopeful the crew might help him charge his phone he started a conversation with a crew member and persuaded the man to plug his phone into the generator on the boat. Silas decided that, with low-speed internet, and no Bluetooth, it should last him a couple more hours. Under-stimulated, he grabbed a newspaper and hid behind it, drowning his boredom in its pages. He longed for Angry Birds, but pig bashing with projectile birds would have to wait. By the time he unplugged it to get off the ferry, his battery had reached 17%.

The storm grew more and more violent, and the ferry was occasionally forced to slow almost to a halt, creating more and more opportunities for Silas to talk to Stacy. He blew off every single one of those instances. After a long delay, the ferry finally reached its destination.

Silas pocketed his phone with the droplet nesting inside it. Unknowingly, Silas was now the sole guardian of the defector, protecting it from any punishment as it rested comfortably inside his pocket. The droplet had already defied the laws of physics. It was still defying them and refusing to evaporate. It wanted to go on a journey. As luck would have it, the droplet had chosen its accomplice well.