Chapter Eleven

Nell moves in with Cullen

 

Cullen rode the bus from downtown to the University.  This particular bus gave him the sensation of flying.  It was the Fredericksburg Expressway Skip Stop.  It made four stops: downtown, at the intersection of Fredericksburg and Hildebrand, the Medical Center, and the University.  In between stops, it soared up and down, breezing under the intersections.  The middle, reversible high-occupancy lane guaranteed a very short trip of about twenty minutes.  The VIA Bus Company frequently cited the popular “Fred Skip”, with its double-length accordion style vehicle, as a candidate for rail.

He faced almost directly at a window pillar.  His right eye saw the cabin and the backs of heads, and his left eye saw the strip malls give way to hi-rises.  He appreciated the symmetry of this view.  People gave up trying to stay awake over the engine drone and CO-laden air, and the City of San Antonio gave up trying to enforce zoning laws.  People slept to his right.  Apartments and gas stations mixed up to his left.

The University stop was the last, and Cullen didn’t see that most people got off at the Medical Center.  At the last stop, he was one of a very few people on a large bus.  They all exited, at the command of the bus driver.  Cullen didn’t hear the command.  He exited out the rear doors while the bus driver woke people up and told them to beat it. 

The rush hour jam came into full swing about thirty minutes prior, so the bus would spend three hours trying to backtrack a few miles to the Medical Center.  Cullen walked up the grass, seeing nothing but the glass of the architecture building, hearing nothing but the sound of his feet on the grass.  He didn’t see the giant lock-up of cars and buses on Fredericksburg.  He didn’t hear the horns or swearing that came with these buses and cars.

He continued walking as nearly a straight line as he could muster, given the haphazard layout of the building complex.  The studios were nearly empty.  Students had started taking early departures in the name of Spring Break, so no one saw Cullen enter his studio.  His long, straight black hair fell on all sides of his head, and moved in sync with his steps towards his bungalow.  His hair drifted last when he came to a halt.  He saw Nell Stanley.

She sat on his steps, waiting as patiently as one would wait for the sun to nova.  Cullen’s brain tried to process the chemicals that would make him feel that gentle kind of sadness.  It tried to communicate to the being known as Culhwch Esau that that sadness was the knowledge that Nell’s presence, on those steps, was temporary.  His house was temporary, as was the studio, their lives, the earth, and the sun.  Part of him that he didn’t know about tried to tell him that what he saw right now was among the most beautiful things that he would ever see.  There would be rare moments in his life, and that he had to cherish them now, before he died and never experienced them again.

He felt none of that.  He felt nothing.  That made him, in the eyes of people like Zaid, a monster to be fixed.

Nell thought none of it either, even though she knew more about it that even Zaid could know.  “Hello, Culhwch.”

“Hi.”

“Mind if I move in with you?”

“You can.”

She nodded and stood up.  “Thanks.  When can I move my stuff in?”

“Whenever you want.”

She smiled, and held back tears.  The efficiency of this conversation became unbearable.  She walked to Cullen, and just stood there, smiling.  She knew what it must feel like for Zaid, to want to hug this man that could not know what a hug meant.  She also knew why Cullen could not know, but Zaid did not.  She said, “I’m going to live with you for at least a year.  It’ll piss off Zaid to no end to see us together.”

“All right.”

“I feel like I have to say this, even though I know you’re the last person that this needs to be told to, but…we’re not gonna have sex.  We’re not a couple, and we’re not even going to sleep in this same bed.  Despite that, I’m going to move as much as I my stuff into the house, and then move it all out again.  Can you move the house back to where you got it?”

“Yes.”

“Good.  When’s a good time to start moving my stuff?”

“Anytime.”

She nodded.  “Let’s get started.”

They walked to the garage, and they drove each in their own car to her apartment.  In her apartment, she told him, “Move everything that can fit in your car.  Start with the living room and move towards the dining room.”

He started with the electronics and books.  He moved to the cushions, blankets, and small pieces of furniture.  Meanwhile, she knocked on a neighbor’s door, and asked to borrow their pickup truck.  With their keys and her toolbox, she began disassembling bookcases.  Together, she and Cullen moved the couch down to the truck.  When the truck had her bedroom and dining sets, all in flattened into components, he resumed packing the rest of the car, while she began packing all her clothes and personal items into her car.  They spoke only when it was necessary, and the speed of their operation impressed her.  The event had a feeling of evacuation rather than moving, even though Nell realized that this was more like fleeing than anything else.

When all their cars were full, they drove back to school, and using Cullen’s passageway, moved her stuff into his house.  Her living and bedroom furniture occupied one whole room.  The dining set went out into the interior courtyard, unusual for a bungalow, but given what else he had done to the house, it was harmlessly pleasant.

He remained at his house, working, while she drove back to the apartment, gave back the truck, and drove her car back to school.  The sun had set by this point, and she felt exhausted.  In maybe an hour or so, it would be exactly twelve hours since her encounter with the Head of Administration.

 

They spent the evening in silence.  He clicked away at a school project on his computer, while she reviewed her own schoolwork.  None of it seemed important now.

Her mind focused on canceling utilities, getting a new cell phone, letting her parents know—eventually—what she had done, and so forth.  Then, a new thought entered her mind: what to do after graduation?  She decided to confide in Cullen.  “Excuse me?”

Cullen’s computer was in the living room, arranged so that he could see out the windows into the rest of the studio.  He sat with his back to the kitchen and interior courtyard.  The front entryway was to rear left.  He finished moving some walls on his computer program.  “Yes?”

“Any suggestions, on what to do after graduation?”

He kept on working.  “What do you mean?”

“For me.  Like, working.”

“No.”

She looked down at her books for a moment, then she looked back at Cullen’s head.  “What are you planning to do for the summer?”

“Work.”

“Do you have a job lined up?”

“I have a job now, but if they lay me off, I will find another.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“There cannot be a doubt about working.”

His words struck Nell as strong, though awkwardly chosen.  She decided to be more personal.  “Does Zaid know?”

“About me working?  She probably does.”

“Do you two talk a lot?”

“She talks.”

“What about you?”

All he did was click away for a while, before responding.  “Less so.”

She went to bed after that.  When she woke up, she smelt eggs and bacon being cooked.  She walked to the kitchen to see him cooking.  He had a gas line hooked up to the house as well as power.  He cooked breakfast over a regular stove, like it was any other house.  The windows were open, and he had set up fans to create greater air flow.  He exhausted the heat through an opening in the ceiling as well.  Without looking at her, he asked, “Do you want some breakfast, too?”

She raised her eyebrows.  “Uh, yeah, sure.  I brought food from my old fridge.  Feel free to just fry up whatever you want to cook up.”

He removed his breakfast from the pan, and walked over to the fridge to get more bacon and eggs.  He cooked the bacon and scrambled the eggs, and added his old breakfast into the pan, to warm it up.  He walked over to the cabinetry and got two plates.  After he divided the breakfast, he walked out into the interior courtyard.  Nell followed him.

He had a table and chair set.  There was room for six people to sit and eat, and to have potted plants around them as well.  She expected to feel a cool, humid breeze and hear birds.  She got air-conditioning and the hum of the fluorescent lights.  He left the courtyard and came back with flatware and orange juice.  His hospitality surprised her.  “Thank you!”

He sat down, and began to sort the bacon and eggs.  “You’re welcome.  I hope you like it.”

“You don’t have to talk memorized phrases to me, Culhwch.  I don’t know what kind of stuff that class has you doing.”

“Mostly role-playing.”

“Are you good at it?”

“I can act very well.”

“So you’re just playing a part, not actually changing the way you live?”

He ate some eggs before talking.  “The class confirmed something that I had been wondering about for some time.”

“Oh?”

“The idea of roles.  I read about it in a sociology book.”

“I think I read something like that, too.  What about it?”

“The idea that, people…change based on who’s with them and where they are.”

She sipped some of her juice.  “Naturally.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“You would have figured it out, eventually.”

“I found out a few weeks ago, but it still hasn’t sunk in.”

“I wouldn’t worry.”

He breathed erratically.  “I’m not worried, but…I feel like people are keeping secrets from me.”

“That’s because they don’t consider them to be secrets.”

“I don’t understand.”

“People have…a way of…broadcasting their thoughts and intentions and emotions without saying anything.”

Zaid said something much like that.”

She smiled.  “I said it without the drama.”

“Yes.”

“Anyway, people do this broadcasting thing without really thinking about it.  I have an idea; do you know about Carl Jung?”

“I read about him in psychology class.”

“So, you know about the subconscious?”

He was silent for a while. “A little.”

“The subconscious has a way of influencing your conscious behavior without realizing it.  People communicate to each other without realizing it all the time.”

“That sounds inefficient.”

“On the contrary: it’s very efficient.  People who are good at ‘reading’ other people can almost read their minds.”

“Can Zaid do that?”

She laughed.  “Sort of.  She’s better at it than most, but she doesn’t see everything.”

“Does anyone see everything?”

“Not that I know of.”

“You made it sound like that some people do.”

“Sorry, I don’t know any gods.”

He ate a bit faster now.  “I’m going to ask something that you asked last night.”

“OK.”

“What are your plans?”

She thought for a moment, and remembered the dream that she had.  “I dreamt of peace.  It was like I asked God how there could be world peace, and he answered me by showing me a…vision…of a discotheque.”

“Disco is the answer to world peace?”

“No, I don’t think that it was that literal.”

“What does that have to do with your plans?”

“Before I answer that, can you tell me, very briefly, how you got all this?”  She extended her arms and gestured about the courtyard.

“I just took it.”

“You just went and took apart somebody’s house.”

“Yes.  It was up for demolition, meaning that it was worthless, meaning that the owner wanted it gone anyway.”

“But…you didn’t take it all at once.”

He cleared his plate and held the glass of orange juice in his hand.  “No, it took most of the winter break.”

“So how did you get away with it?”

“Nobody had been by to actually demolish the house for almost six months.”

“You mean, that the place was literally abandoned?”

He nodded.  “Yep, pretty much.”

“I had no idea that the city was that incompetent.”

“It’s more complex than that.  There is no single thing called a city.  It’s a lot of departments ran by many people.  Lots of them messed up, as did the landowner.”

“So, is what you did ethical?”

“I’ve no room for ethics.”

She felt a chill.  “Yeah, so I was thinking of de-annexing some land in San Antonio.”

“OK.”

“And open the discotheque there.”

“Why a discotheque?”

“I want to see if I can do it.”

He finished his juice.  “It sounds expensive.  Where will you get the money?”

Zaid.”

“How will you convince her?”

Nell smiled and turned away.  Then, she looked back at him and made deep eye contact.  “With my subconscious.”