Steel Ethereal

Ch. 28 Walk With Pip

            

Rob

            It's been several days since Charlie's admittance to the Promenade hospital. I checked in every day to see if there was any news, but all I got was a shrug from the receptionist. She wasn't rude, but I truly thought she knew something and wasn't allowed to tell me.

            Now I lay on my bed, tossing a stress ball at the ceiling. It bounces back and lands into my hand with the sort of precision one would acquire from practicing for hours on end.

My thoughts cloud my mind and keep me from sleep.

It's late at night and my room is a dark pit where my mind swims into the realm of possibilities.

A quarter to three.

I feel antsy. Not even the aesthetic of the Promenade night, with its lit night sky could calm me. It had finished raining. It would smell quite nice outside...

I tried reading, but found that I couldn't absorb the words and phrases into my mind. The refusal of the satisfaction that brought me frustrated me. Instead, my eyes scan the pages.

I did small workouts. Anything to not feel complacent. My workouts only made me feel wider awake than I was in the first place.

There is no one to spend time with and burn the time off Jenna forced onto me.

With a puff of frustration, I stand and retrieve a gray hoodie. It is chilly outside as autumn is near.

With the influx of weather, I could see the orange and purple hues intensify with the drizzle. That added with the chill thrilled me a bit. This was my favorite time of the year.

I walked past my apartment onto a walking trail that stretched beneath a bridge. A refurbished car passes, whooshing the night air and making a sloshing sound as the rain trapped beneath was pushed aside from the tires.

I walk along the sidewalk that winds alongside the road. Countless lamps were lit to illuminate the path for any traveler at night.

I wandered to Marston's, the pub Charlie and I dwelled in. Three clubs down the street are booming loud electronic music.

I entered Marston's and found it devoid of customers. It was by no means time for last call, it's just not a popular bar.

There are scattered lovers and friends in the barroom. One lonely bartender who usually worked the bar alone at night cleaned off glasses for the umpteenth time.

There is one woman at the bar who catches my interest. She sits with her back to me and her legs don't even reach the foot rest on the stool.

Next to Pip's open palm is a cup filled with amber liquid and melting ice. Condensation dashes the glass and dampens the finished wood of the bar.

She is solemn and emotionless as I approach her. Just like her usual self. She is slouched a bit over the bar.

"Didn't think you drank," I say. She turns to me not changing her facial expression, "Mind if I sit here?" I tug on the heavy stool, scraping the green linoleum of the bar.

"I do not," She says, "Not usually anyways.

"Something up? My presentation the other day couldn't have been that bad?" I say in good humor.

She turns to me again and sips from her drink. I catch a faint scent of scotch.

"No. your results were all things phenomenal. They would be reason to celebrate." Her words and her tone fooled one another. Her tone sounded as if she were disappointed in my positive results.