Chapter 10
2188words
Barry thought it was unbefitting for a woman to have a job. Not that there were many jobs that would hire women. And she couldn’t even do typical chores the average housewife does, because they had servants for everything.
She considered going to the mansion’s private theater to pick something to watch. But movies and shows these days were so bland. So stale. Too similar to each other. She’d heard humans once created them. Humans came up with complex characters and storylines. And other humans actually acted those roles out. Even the animated ones had “voice actors.”
Supposedly, human-made movies and shows were still being created. But if the rumors were true, she’d never been able to find them. And even if she had, her husband probably wouldn’t allow her to watch them anyway. Stellaluna banged her head against the nearest wall, letting out a groan.
“Are you okay, Lady Callahan?” a woman servant in a tattered, gray dress asked.
“I’m survive.” Stellaluna banged her head again. “Never get married.”
“I’ll try not to. But my parents want grandchildren, and I’m their only child.”
Children. Stellaluna held back tears. If only she could conceive children. Unfortunately, Barry told her that the doctor told him she was infertile. That there was no cure for her. She wanted to adopt, but Barry was convinced that abandoned children had too many behavioral issues. They’d already tried it once before. After her cousin died, they took in her daughter. The child never spoke, never listened, and threw tantrums over… nothing. Barry gave it a year before he handed the girl back to the state.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” the servant asked. “Do you need me to get you anything?”
“I’ll be fine. Go back to what you were doing.”
“Yes, Lady Callahan.” The servant left.
What to do? Stellaluna continued her wandering, until she reached the end of the guest wing. She walked past the kitchen, past the restaurant. Down a corridor that led to parts of the mansion off-limits to guests, through a hallway. Past the music room, where she heard the faint sound of an acoustic guitar. Curious, Stellaluna stopped. The door was, as usual, open. But who was playing music in there? She stepped inside.
It was a room where Barry had various instruments on display. Guitars hung on the walls. There were two grand pianos, and several keyboards, along with a lone cello in the corner.
On a sofa in the middle of the room, sat a male servant wearing a gray shirt and matching gray pants. He played a slow song on a guitar. Judging by a blank spot on the wall, it most likely belonged to Barry. Not that Barry knew how to play it. All of the instruments were only for show.
The man switched to another song. Something a little faster. Stellaluna leaned against the doorway, noting a rag and spray bottle on the couch next to him. Clearly he was supposed to be cleaning the instruments, not playing them. She smiled as she walked over to him. He looked up and yelped. Quickly, he snatched the rag, and rubbed it on the guitar. Trying to act like he had been cleaning it all along.
Stellaluna covered a laugh. “It’s okay. I don’t care what you do on the clock. I thought it was good.”
He stared, head tilted to the side. Probably confused as to why Stellaluna didn’t care.
“It doesn’t bother me at all. I mean, this room is clean enough. The whole house, actually. I don’t know why Barry is so insistent servants dust and clean and scrub every day. But, I suppose it keeps you employed.”
The servant scratched his head, running his fingers through his tousled, brown hair. “I… understand not.”
He had an accent of some sort, but Stellaluna couldn’t place it off only three words. “You don’t know English?”
“Some. But I know not, what you say have.” The servant spoke slowly, brow furrowed in concentration. It was as though he were trying to directly translate each individual word in his head as he spoke, creating one interesting sentence.
“Okay.” Stellaluna spoke slower as she repeated her ramblings in simpler terms. “I was saying, you are good at guitar. You can keep playing. I do not care.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
Perhaps Stellaluna could entertain herself by getting to know one of the servants. “What is your name?”
“Yannick.”
She continued speaking slowly. “When did you learn to play guitar?”
“Since I was nine. Or ten.”
“How long have you lived here?”
“Seven years.”
“Where from?”
“Germany.”
So German must be his native tongue. Stellaluna unfortunately didn’t know German. Or any second language, for that matter. “Why did you move here?”
Yannick stared at her. Stellaluna wondered how to make that question more understandable. “Why you come here?”
“Is you serious? You know not?”
“Know not what?”
“Of the war. You know not, of the war? In Europa?”
“Sorry. Europe.”
Now that Stellaluna thought about it, she recalled hearing something about some war going on in Europe, years ago. “Isn’t the war over? Finished? Done?”
Yannick snorted. “Germany is. My family was lucky. We leave before the big bomb.”
“There was a bomb that destroyed Germany?”
“Some. Not all. Where I come from is gone. Also some of Frankreich. Schweiz is gone. Where have you been?”
“I don’t watch the news. Barry says it’s too traumatizing for women.” Stellaluna wondered what countries Frankreich and Schweiz were supposed to be. They must be countries that bordered Germany. But she’d never been taught geography outside of North America. “What are Fronkrice and Shviytzt?”
Yannick gave her an amused smile. “I know not the english name of all countries.”
“Of course.” Stellaluna would have to look it up later, if her restricted watch would even tell her the details of such a tragedy.
“Why ask you?”
“The questions. Why ask you me?”
“I’m bored.” Stellaluna leaned her head back against the wall. “There’s nothing for me to do. Nothing!”
Yannick held out the rag in his hand. “You can me clean help.”
Finally, something to do! Stellaluna took the rag, and wandered the room in search for something to dust off. But everything looked clean already. She did notice a layer of dust on the piano, and wiped that down. Yannick resumed playing the guitar.
Right as Barry walked in on the scene. “What the hell is going on in here?!”
As promised, Jake had called Axel. After a few minutes of casual small talk, they set up a date for Friday.
On Friday, after work, Axel drove to the outskirts of town, to a large gas station for truckers. He usually went there on Fridays anyway, to use their showers. And that Friday was no different. He wanted to be clean for Jake.
Afterwards, Axel drove to the diner they agreed to meet at. He stepped inside. The place wasn't busy, but there were a few customers seated at tables scattered throughout the restaurant. The smell of grilled burgers wafted through the air. Axel's stomach growled.
He spotted Jake at a table against the back wall. Their eyes met. Axel walked over and took a seat across from him. “I hope you weren’t waiting too long."
“Only a few minutes.” Jake checked his watch. “It’s 6:30 exactly. I’m the one who was early.”
“Fair.” Axel picked up a tablet chained to the table, and scrolled through the menu. It had been awhile since he last ate there, but he remembered liking their burgers. And they certainly smelled good. After seeing the prices for the rest of the entrees, Axel decided on just that. “Know what you want yet?”
“Probably a burger,” Jake said, scrolling through a second tablet.
“I’m thinking the same thing.”
“You ready then?”
They each entered their orders into the tablets. When Axel finished his, he set his tablet aside, and caught Jake gazing at him. “You can’t keep your eyes off me, can you?”
Jake leaned forward. “Can you blame me?”
Axel looked around the room. None of the customers were within hearing distance. “Not at all. But… this place isn’t like California. You need to be more careful. If you aren’t, you could get blacklisted like me.”
“Blacklisted?”
“When you commit a sexual crime, you get blacklisted. That includes getting physical with someone of the same gender.” Axel lowered his voice. “The wrong people found out and reported it. If anyone runs a background check on me, they can see that. And deny me a job or housing or medical treatment because of it.”
“That sounds illegal.”
“It’s not. Neither is beating up gay people.” Axel’s eyes softened at Jake’s fearful expression. “I don’t mean to scare you. I just want you to know how important it is to stay hidden.”
“They can deny medical treatment?”
“It’s rare. Hospitals don’t have time to run background checks. But insurance companies do. Some won’t take you on. And if they do, they’ll raise your premiums. It counts as a pre-existing condition.”
“Do I want to know what any of that means?”
“Probably not.”
A rolling cart wheeled itself over to their table, carrying two drinks. Water for Jake, and a Hendi for Axel. They each took theirs, and the cart wheeled back towards the kitchen.
“I hate it here.” Jake took a sip of his water.
Axel couldn’t argue with that. He did too. “Why’d you move?”
“My dad owns a business, but California has a lot of rules and regulations he’s upset about. He moved us here so he doesn’t have to deal with those. I came because I’m supposed to inherit the business, and the waiting list to get permanent housing is too long. In the meantime, I’d be crammed into some tiny apartment with another family. I can’t afford to buy a house, and my dad really wanted me to move with him, so he wasn’t about to give me money for one. So I chose to come. I didn’t think Jefferson would be this awful.”
Good to know even the Equal States had its flaws. Axel would go crazy if he had to share a small apartment with a group of strangers. Though it would also depend on Jake’s definition of “tiny.” He set his chin in his hand. “What’s the business?”
“Your father owns Pieway?” That was quite the business to own. Jake’s family must be rich. “That’s huge.”
“I guess.” Jake didn’t seem to think much of it. “I started working there, making pizzas. My dad thinks it’s good for me to get to know the business from the bottom up.”
“That makes sense."
The rolling cart returned with their food. They fell silent as they ate, but it wasn’t an awkward one. Not like it had been with Sebastian. Axel ignored his own advice and allowed his eyes to wander towards Jake. Jake did the same. Not for the first time, Axel wished he had a home to invite him to. But admitting that to Jake would probably kill the relationship before it started. Hopefully Jake would invite him to his own house.
Once they finished eating, with light conversation sprinkled in every so often, Jake brought it up. He lowered his voice. “Since we can’t even check each other out here, want to go somewhere we can? I’d offer my house, but my dad’s home.”
Axel swallowed, and fiddled with the straw of his soda. “I, erm… I’d love to go to one of our houses. But…”
“But what?”
The man probably had a huge house. Was probably used to huge houses. Probably had friends with equally-huge houses. What would he think of Axel’s lack of housing?
If they were going to take things further, Jake should know the truth. Axel stabbed at the ice in his drink. “I don’t exactly know how to say this...”
Jake stared, waiting for Axel to continue.
Axel let go of the straw to rub the back of his head. “Remember what I said about blacklisting and housing?”
“You’re homeless?”
“Not exactly. I… live in my van.”
“I’m sorry.” Axel lowered his voice. “I understand if you want to end things before they start.”
“I don’t. Of course I don’t. You’re the coolest guy I’ve met here.”
Axel perked up at that. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. So what if you live in a van.”
A heavy weight in his chest lifted, and he half-smiled. “I have a bed in there.”
Jake traced his finger along the rim of his glass. “If I pay the bill, will you let me see it?”
“I can pay-”
“Next time,” Jake finished for him. “You can pay next time. Then I’ll let you see my bed.”
Axel absentmindedly stirred the ice in his glass with his straw. “You sound confident, thinking there’ll be a next time.”
“Right. I might end up disappointed.” Jake smirked at him.
