I found my book. This book. It was right where I left it. Somehow, it appeared. It wasn’t all that exciting seeing it once I got back to my tent when taking in the fact that I was just told that the Positive State is a doomsday cult.
A lot has happened since then.
Not so much on the Positive State island. Everyone is just kind of waiting to die there, I guess. Outside of the apocalypse, though, my personal life has continued to crumble as I get closer and closer to death.
After meeting with Elizabeth’s dumbass Australian fiancé David on the island and advising him to do anything but join the Positive State, he went home. I returned to society for my commitments to SCW, having to defend my Adrenaline Championship against Beard in Indianapolis. Once I got into signal range, my phone was full of texts and missed calls from Elizabeth.
Apparently, David was no longer her fiancé. He got home, broke down, and told her that he couldn’t live a lie anymore. Without any further explanation, he left. It’s that lack of explanation that has made it look like I ruined their fucking engagement.
I mean, think about it. The guy goes to an island seeking my help and the second he gets back, he ends his engagement and walks out on his family? How am I not going to be blamed for that? Thanks, David. Good looking out.
Anyway, I’ve been avoiding Liz ever since. I’m starting to come to terms with the fact that I’ll never see her again. Soon, I’ll be gone. I tried to do what was right and lead David back to her and Sydney, but I’m living proof that sometimes things just don’t turn out the way they should. All I can do is wish her the best while I patiently wait to die, whether it be from this apparent apocalypse or from breaking my neck inside the ring.
Speaking of inside the ring, I lost my Adrenaline Championship. Not to Beard, but to Autumn Valentine. The Star of Tomorrow, Today. Every time I’ve lost a title in the past, it’s felt like the end of the world. But now that the actual end of the world is approaching, I was actually feeling content with it all. Autumn is an incredible talent. She’d had me beat in our last couple of contests, but I found a way out. This time, inside of a steel cage, there were no excuses. I put my life and body on the line and she came out as the last one standing. If anyone is going to be the future of SCW, I want it to be someone that can beat me at my absolute best. She did exactly that.
Unfortunately, it did lead to some problems. I have quit the Holly Adams Brand. Or, as she would tell the story, I’m on a personal improvement plan—a PIP. Or at least that’s the plan once she humiliates me by kicking my ass at Rise to Greatness. Or maybe I’ve blown that “opportunity.” Now it looks like she just wants to kick my ass because I got in her way after everything she’s done for me.
I don’t know. There’s just something about facing death. This clarity only got stronger when I found out I was the leader of a doomsday cult. These things provide perspective. I saw how I misled Cookie. Yeah, okay, I didn’t break her or anything, but…I don’t think I made her better. I misled her.
I saw Holly and Gio doing the same to Datura, right after I made it clear that I had no interest in steering Datura the wrong way. Christ, there might not be anyone I respect more in this business than Datura. I wanted to help her. Me denying her the Positive State was the best way to do that. She’s stronger than she thinks. She doesn’t need the bullshit.
Holly and Gio see it differently, though. As much as I respect and maybe even love them, I’m just not at a point in my life where I can let that slide. I promised myself that I’d do everything I can to wrap up my affairs before I die. Part of that is making sure that people I care for, like Cookie and Datura, are okay. That includes Holly. I just want her to know what’s right before I leave.
But we see what my meddling did with Liz and David, don’t we? Best laid plans, huh? What was I really doing here, standing up to Holly? Fuck, who knows? She’s more stable than me. Maybe her and Gio really could do something positive with Datura. What if I’m just wrecking things?
That’s not everything going on, though. Between the Positive State, the Brand, Cookie, Datura, Liz, David, Sydney, and everything else…
The baby came early.
You’re swimming.
Bright white leaks through the walls. You press your small feet against the light and push yourself off, spinning and rolling in a circle to see that everything around you is enveloped by this brightness.
From outside, over the hums and beeps of machines, you once again hear voices. Only, it’s not the ones you’re used to. Some are deep, some are light, some are calm, and some are crying out. What they all have in common, however, is they’re pleading.
Everything is different, but you don’t mind.
You focus on your swimming—the swirling in your ears, the water brushing your limbs, the waves around you. Everything else fades away.
You could stay here forever. You should stay here forever.
“What the hell is this?” I asked.
At the compound, cameras surrounded me. The Housewives crew was there, greeting me at the front doors of the mansion. As were Gio, STD, and Clammy. As if things couldn’t get any more stressful after receiving the call that Candi had gone into labor, here were my former Brandmates.
“Namaste, Cidnay,” said Gio.
“GiGi, I swear to God, if you’re here to curse my baby or something—” Suddenly, he whipped out a stick of sage. “—Jesus! You’re gonna put an eye out!”
“I come in peace,” he said. “Despite everything you have done, me, Samuel, and Joseph—”
“Joseph?” He gestured towards Clammy. “Oh, right.”
“We’ve come to help assist Candi in her birth to make sure that this child gets an early start on the path to nirvana.”
The amount of willpower it took not to facepalm. It was bad enough that I was going to be its father, but there was no way it’d live a normal life surrounded by the rest of the Holly Adams Brand. This upcoming apocalypse was going to do us all a great big favor.
“What do you mean after everything I’ve done?” I asked, not even wanting to begin to get into a discussion about my newborn child being saged. “All I’ve asked is that you leave Datura alone!”
“That’s just one of many things. You’ve fallen so far off the path to nirvana…surely you can sense it yourself. You’re the leader of the Positive State, after all. You have to be able to see that you’ve slipped into a negative state.”
“I thought we were friends, damn it!” Sammy suddenly yelled out. “How could you do this to us?!”
My first instinct was to tell him that whatever we had together could hardly be considered a friendship, but after everything Selena Frost had done to the man’s confidence, I decided to just nod solemnly, giving no verbal confirmation that we were ever friends, but responding enough to not make him want to kill himself or whatever.
“Look, we can deal with this later,” I said, getting a nod of acknowledgement from Gio as he pocketed his sage stick. “Just…where the hell is Candi?”
“She’s been led to the lake,” Gio replied. “Elijah sent word that the waters would bless the child. She’s to have a natural birth in the waters.”
The same lake where I was reborn, my child would come into the world. Considering how everything had turned out for me since my rebirth, this felt like a terrible plan, but time was no longer on my side, and when time isn’t on your side, you don’t really have the chance to dispute the bullshit. You just roll with whatever. So, with that said, I just gave Gio a thumbs up.
“Well, let’s get going then,” I said. “Thank God that Holly isn’t here to turn this into more of a shitshow than it already is.”
Before I could even move a single step towards the back of the compound, a shrill voice stopped me dead in my tracks.
“Excuse me, Cidnay?!”
From behind Gio and the gang, a Roomba with a tall stick attached to it rolled up towards me. On the stick was an iPad, hastily taped and attached to the top, almost falling off with every swift movement of the Roomba. Holly’s face filled the iPad screen.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said.
Dad always sits in his lounge chair, parked in front of the television.
You’re only a handful of years old. You don’t remember much of your life so far, but this sight seems to have been with you since birth. It is a near-constant, as is the content he watches. It’s the only thing that seems to bring a smile to his face, however brief.
Today, though, you have something to pull his eyes away from the screen.
It’s taken you the better part of an hour. You didn’t even ask for Mom’s help despite her always willing to happily lend a hand to her beloved child. This was something you wanted to do by yourself.
So, you did. A flimsy sheet of paper served as your canvas. You opted to use crayons. It was only after you outlined everything that you felt the crayons were the wrong choice. Everything seemed so dull, so typical. You wondered if it would look better once you colored it in, but you didn’t want to take that chance.
You took a risk. Out came the markers. To combine both crayon and markers—you wondered if this had ever been done before in the history of art. You even considered that this would only ruin everything even more. All of this time spent…and for what? A failed project?
But no. The gamble paid off. If anyone had ever dared to attempt this artistic feat before, you were confident that it wouldn’t have come out as perfect as your effort.
The rough, jagged crayon outline only made the gloss of the markers shine even brighter. A variety of colors splashed all over the canvas, attracting attention from corner to corner, making this a piece that could pry even the most dedicated eyes away from whatever it was they were watching. While it took less than an hour, you feel like you’ve been working towards this your entire short life.
Here you are, standing at Dad’s side as he watches the television. Your drawing hangs from one hand and you use the other to tug at his sleeve. Initially, he doesn’t respond. Another tug finally gains Dad’s attention. He looks down at you, the smile that the TV brings him slowly dropping.
“What’s up, kiddo?” he says.
You bring up your offering. He slips it from your fingers and brings it up to his face. His expression doesn’t change.
“What is it?” he asks.
You carefully climb up onto the arm of the lounge chair and take your place next to him, leaning on his shoulder. The two of you stare at the drawing.
To you, it’s so clear: a happy family at the beach. There’s the blue waves glimmering underneath the yellow sun. At the shore is the aforementioned happy family. You, Mom, Dad, and even your golden retriever Toby. It’s a depiction of a recent memory that you feel will stick with you for the rest of your life, especially now that you have immortalized it.
But Dad doesn’t seem to understand. Maybe mixing crayon and markers was a bad idea, or maybe making the sand the same color as everyone’s skin—except yours, naturally—has made things confusing. Looking at it with fresh eyes, you can see how it might not make sense. Of course, you stand out the most out of everyone, and the brown hair and big beard over Dad makes it distinctively him, but Mom’s blonde hair and Toby’s yellow fur make them look like nameless ghostly figures haunting the shore.
“It’s us,” you say, “next to the ocean.”
Dad tilts his head. “Oh, yeah, I can see it now,” he says, but the look on his face makes you wonder if he really does. After a moment, he hands the drawing back to you. “Thanks a lot, buddy. It’s really good.”
You suddenly feel very stupid.
You take the drawing and crawl down from the chair. Dad’s attention goes back to the television, where he watches the same thing he always watches: people fighting. While he watches that, you watch him. Slowly, the smile returns to his face. He doesn’t smile like Mom does. You wonder why people have different smiles.
The handful of minutes it took us to reach the backside of the compound was mostly filled with Holly harping on about all the bad things I’ve done over the last couple of months. Her voice was even more unpleasant coming through the speakers of the iPad.
Mercifully, we reached the top of the long hill that would lead us down to the lake. No way the Roomba would make it down the hill. I’d be free from Holly in a second.
In the distance, I saw even more cameras hovering by the body of water, along with a few other people standing by. Amongst that small sea was probably Candi with our child trying its best to come out. The thought stirred something strange in me.
Holly’s voice once again distracted me from everything. “Samuel!” she barked. Sammy came running up to face the iPad. “Carry me down the hill!”
“God damn it,” I muttered to myself. “All right, let’s go.”
Sammy lifted the Roomba and we started to make our way down the hill. Given how clumsy Sammy is inside the ring, I expected him to trip and fall, causing a Brand avalanche, but he actually held pretty firm. Say what you will about the man and his mentors, but both him and his wife had really put in the work to become better at what they do, whether that be wrestling on the big stage or carrying a fucking Roomba with Holly Adams’ face on it down a grassy slope. While I still wouldn’t call either of them my friends, part of me was kind of sad that I wouldn’t be around to see them continue this late second chance that reminded me of my own. Hopefully they don’t blow it like I tend to do.
“So, you say I don’t care about anyone but myself, Cidnay,” Holly carried on, comfortably sitting in her own home while we all were heaving from sprinting down a hill. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?! Looks like you’re wrong…again! It looks like everyone around you agrees, too. I mean, from what I can see, there’s no one even at the compound anymore! Everyone’s left, hopefully to come to a real teacher, like me or GiGi!”
“They’re all at the island I bought,” I replied through hastened breaths.
“You bought an island?!” She paused. After everything she’d lost ever since Beard dropping an N-bomb at my wedding, I imagine that she didn’t like the fact that I’d just splurged on something as absurd as an island. “I hope you at least named it after me. It’s the least you can do when you consider the fact that I’m the one responsible for your financial success.”
“Listen, Holly, I’m grateful you came, but can you just—”
“You better be grateful!”
“I just said I am.”
“I’m not here for you anyway,” she hissed. “I’m here for Candi to see her girl boss her way through the miracle of birth.” I looked back to see her leaning off-camera and whispering, “I don’t have to stay for the messy bit, do I?”
“Just for today, let’s call a truce. It’s not about me or you—”
“Of course it’s not about you!” she interrupted. “You can say that all you want, but it’s not about what you say, it’s about what you do! You’re sitting here talking about splashing out and buying up islands while I’m in the middle of a very serious court case after the media has dragged both me and my good, beautiful name through the mud.”
At the bottom of the hill, I came to a skidding stop. Everyone behind me stopped just short of me as I looked at the iPad. “Wait, court case?”
The pills look like candy, but for some reason, they scare you.
“That’s what keeps Dad from jumping in front of a train,” Sydney says. The image makes your heart crumple up. “And soon, it’ll keep me from doing the same. They take a few weeks to start working, apparently.”
Sydney has been different lately. She graduated high school not too long ago. You think that it sounds like the most incredible thing in the whole world—to think, no more school. The ultimate freedom. So exciting, yet Sydney seems anything but excited. She hasn’t seemed excited for a very long time. Not since you were small. Mom says that Sydney’s going through a phase. Dad says nothing.
You look down at the pills on the bed. You used to have sleepovers in this same bed, some years ago. Sydney’s bed. Those times make you happy, but you can’t stop thinking about Dad jumping in front of a train.
“Why would Dad want to jump in front of a train?” you ask.
Sydney leans back in her computer chair and laughs without a hint of joy. She does that a lot. “I don’t know,” she says. “Because he’s not happy, I guess.”
“Not happy?”
“Yeah, well, apparently the pills do that, too,” Sydney goes on. “They keep you from being sad, but they also keep you from being happy. You don’t really live. You kind of just…exist.”
You think of Dad’s smile, then Mom’s. Is that the difference between existing and living?
“You’re not happy?”
“Not really,” she says with a shrug.
“Why not?”
“Like father, like daughter, I guess. It’ll probably hit you soon. How old are you? Ten? Give it a few years.”
Your head shakes. It’s something you just can’t grasp. Not now, anyway.
“Don’t we make him happy?” you ask.
Sydney scoffs. “Doubt it. Not like I see him enough to make a difference anyway.”
“He talks about you a lot,” you say. “And your mom.”
“Mom will probably be on these soon enough,” she replies, reaching out and scooping the pills back into a little orange container with her name on it. “She’s been a bitch lately.”
“I don’t get it…”
“Hey, if it’s not me making him miserable, maybe it’s you and your mom,” she says. You look at her, confused. She shoots you a wry smile. “Maybe you guys make him wanna jump in front of a train!”
The thought destroys your entire world in an instant. From this moment on, things will never be the same.
You can’t help but to mourn the loss of everything. Your lip trembles, your chin shakes, the pressure in your head builds, and the tears begin to flow.
“Hey, wait,” Sydney says as you turn and bury your face into her pillow, muffling your crying. “No, no, no.”
You’re pulled from the pillow, straight into Sydney’s arms. She brings you into her chest and holds you tight. She gently strokes your back while you continue to whimper.
“It’s okay,” she says. Her voice soothes you. She sounds like she did before, back when you were smaller. “I was only joking, sweetie. I was just being stupid. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
Your cries steadily quiet. As they go, you hear a soft, continuous “shh” coming from Sydney’s lips. You follow the soundwaves. Gently, they sway around you. For now, you’re safe.
“Yes, court case,” Holly continued as Samuel set her down on the grass now that we’d conquered the hill. “Of course you haven’t heard about this. Too busy focusing on yourself!”
Which is fair enough, I figured. I’m dying and apparently the world is coming with me. Still, I hadn’t heard about this so-called court case. If it involved the Holly Adams Brand, then it involved me. Not just because Holly was only a couple of weeks removed from being my certified life coach, but because the Positive State fell under the Brand umbrella. Or at least it used to.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“Oh, now you care so much! Maybe you should focus on, I dunno, your pregnant wife?!”
“Holly, what the hell is the court case about?! Am I in trouble?”
Holly sighed and shook her head. “Cidnay, even if I—for some insane reason—wanted to share this information with you, I couldn’t,” she said. “The law is very sensitive towards me, especially now. I’ve been advised to only talk about the case with people on a need-to-know basis.”
“Well…if I don’t fall under ‘need-to-know’ then that means I’m not in trouble, right?”
Again, she sighed. Dramatically so. “I’m afraid I can’t divulge that information.”
“Jesus Christ, whatever,” I huffed before turning and heading towards the lake.
We reached the lake, but still had to get by the sea of cameras and people. Fortunately, having a star of the show proved to have its perks.
“Move!” Holly demanded.
The crew turned to see her and brought their cameras up to film the Roomba. It was absurd enough as it was, but made even more ridiculous when considering that she already had her own personal camera crew filming the Roomba. I think I even saw a crew inside her house. If that didn’t sum up how insane this whole Housewives thing was, I don’t know what else could.
As both actually-physically-here crews adjusted their angles for Holly’s arrival, I managed to step through the small crowd. Finally, I would see the reason that I was here. I’d been waiting for this ever since I got the call.
And there she was. She was in a white robe, as were the two men gently lowering her into the water. My first instinct was to question the idea of wearing white while not only being dipped into water, but while giving birth.
But it was my second instinct that scared me. Because even though I’d been fighting through cameras, disgruntled life coaches, and the ticking time bomb that was my inevitable death to get here, the only thing I could think of was how much I didn’t want this to happen.
As winter fades and spring blooms, you find yourself at the shore of the ocean. The waves flow up and down, rippling all the way to the tips of your bare toes before slipping back to whence they came. This is their process.
You missed this. The older you got, the less your family took trips like these.
From behind, you hear feet shuffling in sand. “What are you up to, kiddo?” asks Dad.
You look back at him, watching him as he hobbles next to your side. The last time you can recall you both being here, his beard had a lot less white and his step had a lot more spring.
“Not much,” you say. “Just chillin’.”
“Right on,” Dad mumbles. You both stare out into the ocean. You try and think of something to say, but nothing comes to mind. You wonder if Dad’s having the same issue before he finally says, “Thinking about prom?”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“Just a few more days, huh? How’s—uh, what’s her name?”
“Sarah.”
“Sarah,” Dad echoes with a nod. “How’s Sarah feeling? She nervous, too?”
“Maybe. I’m not nervous, though,” you say.
Your eyes stay on the shifting waves, but you feel Dad’s gaze.
“You’re not?” he asks.
“I don’t know. It just seems like it should be a big deal, but it doesn’t feel like it, for some reason. I don’t get it. I feel kinda bad.”
“How come? You all right?”
“Me? I’m fine,” you say, though you’re starting to wonder. “It’s Sarah, you know? She’s actually really excited. That’s the problem. I’m thinking she could actually be going with someone who cares more.”
“What, is she bitchy or something?”
“No. That’s the weird thing. She’s awesome. I just…”
Your voice trails off. In typical Dad fashion, he says nothing. The two of you stand at the shore as the sound of the beach fills in the silence.
Somewhat surprisingly, he speaks. “You know,” he begins, “you don’t always end up with your soulmate.”
You turn to him. Now he’s staring out at the waves. “Huh?”
“Sometimes you just do what feels right in the moment,” Dad goes on. “And, hey, sometimes it ends up being the right thing in the long term, even if it’s not everything you wanted.”
You turn and see Mom laid out on a towel in the sand, far off in the distance. She flashes a big smile and waves at you. You turn back to Dad.
You don’t really know what to say. What can you even say? So, you just say, “Uh…okay.”
“My point is,” Dad continues, “that this girl might not be your soulmate or whatever, but…sometimes you have to keep up appearances. Do you know what I mean?”
“I guess.”
“So…don’t feel bad,” he says. “It is what it is.” There’s a long pause. It allows this lesson to sink in. The thought of it becomes oddly unbearable before he changes the subject, saying, “We didn’t really have beaches like this in Denver. I remember my dad taking me to one when I was a kid. It was windy and cold as fuck. Still nice, I suppose, but…nothing like California beaches.”
“It’s nice,” you agree.
You consider asking if he remembers going to the beach with you when you were little, but you suddenly don’t feel like reminiscing. Instead, you just stand there with Dad, the wind blowing against your shaking hand.
I pushed my stupid, anxious instincts aside, making room for my newfound fatherly instincts. As much as this scared me, I had to be there for Candi and the child that was on its way out of her.
“Cidnay,” she weakly called out. I guess I had missed a lot of contractions. Still, as worn out as Candi was, she still smiled when she saw me. I don’t know why anyone would smile seeing me, but she did. Her smile even grew when she noticed Holly on a fucking Roomba. “Holly!”
“We’re here, girl!” Holly called out before once again leaning off-camera, loudly whispering, “Again, I don’t have to stick around for the messy part, right?”
“Everyone’s, like, here,” Candi said, looking around at the who’s who of “what the fuck?” that we’ve assembled over the last several months.
Apparently, Holly and Candi had a bit of a falling out thanks to my end-life crisis driving a wedge between them. These things just don’t seem to matter when you’re on the verge of bringing life into the world, though. We were here for Candi, something I had to continually remind myself of as the thought of fathering another child made me want to drown myself in the placenta-filled lake.
Another man in a white robe approached me—an older man. I’d never seen him on the compound before. “Are you the father?” he asked.
Unfortunately. “Yes,” I answered.
He placed his hand on my shoulder. I looked down at it in confusion before looking back up at him, seeing a smile on his face. “First off, congratulations,” he said. “Secondly, thank you for ushering us into the next era.”
I shook my head. Another fucking nut. “Not a problem. Can we maybe focus on Candi for now?”
“Of course. Before we begin, if we could clear the area of any non-essential members of the family, that would be great.”
Before I could even turn, Gio walked up next to me with his sage stick. “I’m here to cleanse the area,” he proudly declared.
I was going to protest, but to my surprise, the dude just nodded and let Gio through. If you would have told me two years ago that Giovanni Aries was going to have a front row seat to the birth of my child with a sage stick in his hand, I would have asked you what went wrong in my life to reach that point? The answers lie in this book, I guess.
“Okay,” I said, turning to the rest of the group, “Samuel, Beef—”
“Joseph,” Sammy interjected.
“You’re Joseph now?”
“No, she is,” he said, pointing to Clammy, who just shrugged.
“All right, whatever, if you two could just scoot back a bit—”
“What, we’re not good enough to birth your child?!” Clammy asked.
“After everything we’ve done!” added Sammy.
“Listen, you two,” I said, walking up to them, “I’m seriously proud of the progress you’ve both made and…whatever the fuck it is you’re doing with the TV title…”
“Thank you kindly.”
“I was the one who won it,” Clammy chimed in.
“Either way,” I went on, “you’re both champions. I mean that literally and figuratively. Keep doing what you’re doing, whether it’s for yourself, nirvana, or anything else.” Both of them looked at each other before looking back at me and nodding. “But just leave this to me. All right?”
Holly’s Roomba suddenly burst back onto the scene, plowing right through Sammy and Clammy, nearly knocking them over in the process.
“Sorry, I was busy instructing the crew on the best angles of the Roomba,” Holly said. “Please tell me I didn’t miss the messy part! Ohh, no, I wanted to be here so bad for that natural beauty!”
I rolled my eyes. “Holly, you didn’t miss shit, but you’re going to because I’m not risking that baby coming out electrocuted because we stuck a Goddamn vacuum cleaner near the water.”
“Excuse me?!”
“Sorry,” I quickly mumbled while ripping the stick from the Roomba and kicking the stupid vacuum onto its back. I handed the iPad on a stick to Sammy and pushed him away.
“How dare you?!” I heard Holly cry out as Sammy carried her just a few feet away, taking Clammy with him. “I so wanted to stick around for the messy part! Birth is beautiful! Candi! Candi, your husband is keeping me from experiencing this beautiful moment!”
With Holly’s whining behind me, I made my way to the shore of the lake to see Candi being held up in the water.
Looking into Sarah’s indigo eyes, you wonder if you love her.
You’ve spent the night dancing. Your ears are still ringing from the blaring music that played in the school gymnasium. There’s a slight wobble in your legs as the guilt of having had alcohol at prom weighs you down. Now, the look on Sarah’s face is making your heart pound up against your lapel. You do not feel in control of your own body.
The elevator dings. Whatever is steering you leads you out into the hall, trailing just behind your date. You both arrive at the door to your room and swipe through. You’re inside the room. A small bedroom has never been more intimidating. The door clicks shut and you leave everything behind you.
Self-control still eludes you. You’re floating through an unknown room. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the edge of the bed. Sarah’s head rests against your shoulder and her hand grips your knee. Her perfume fills your airways. You imagine her getting ready at her house and putting it on before prom and—for whatever reason—it makes you terribly sad. Here and now, this isn’t how you’re supposed to feel, but it’s what’s happening.
Her head raises from your shoulder. You turn to see her. Your eyes connect with hers—so vast, so deep, so blue. She wants you. Do you want her?
Maybe Dad was right. Maybe this is just what you have to do.
Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe she’ll give you the love that he never got. The love that he never gave.
Bravely, you lean forward. Your lips meet with hers. The room is dead quiet. The sounds you’re creating together are unsettling. You’d rather hear anything else. So, you go to your happy place.
You’re at the ocean once again. The breeze caresses you, lightly showering you with the mist of the sea. You watch the flowing waves. They sway back and forth.
Something is different, however. Your focus wavers. Still, you try to hone in on the soothing sounds of the ocean. While the waves continue to shuffle, they’re muted. Slowly, they fall. The ocean comes to a complete and silent standstill.
You have failed to sink to serenity.
You pull away from Sarah. She shoots you a peculiar glance, like you’re doing something wrong, only you don’t know what’s wrong or what’s right. All you know is what you’ve been taught. All you know is how you’ve been raised.
Sarah leans forward once again. You want to tell her to stop, but you don’t. You’re kissing again. She’s slowly pushing you down onto the bed now. She climbs on top of you. Your arms stick to your side and your legs hang straight over the end of the bed. You’re a plank in the sea. You’ve never felt so trapped.
Sarah whispers your name as she continues to venture forth. She says it over and over and over again. She says it so many times that it no longer sounds real. She says it until you’re no longer you.
The robed older man stepped in front of me, taking his place in front of Candi. It was only then that I realized that—as far as I could tell, anyway—no doctors were around us.
“Hey, wait,” I said, tapping the man on the shoulder, “are you delivering this baby?”
“Honorably so,” he replied.
“Sorry, are you a doctor, or…?”
“Yes.”
Something about his demeanor made me question his answer.
“What kind of doctor?” I asked.
“I’ve dabbled in many different fields—”
“Have you delivered a baby before?”
Silence. He just stood there blinking at me.
“You know what? Fuck it,” I said. “Just…let’s go.”
He nodded and we both turned to Candi, who had been following the breathing instructions provided by the two men holding her up—two men who I also assumed had zero qualified medical experience.
“Okay, Candi,” the “doctor” began, “we’re gonna start pushing now?”
She took a few moments to breathe. “Uhm, like, yeah, I, like, think—”
“Wait,” he interrupted. He reached back and waved his arm. “Sage, stat.”
My jaw dropped as I saw Gio lighting up his sage while wading through the water. “Are you serious?” I said, but I knew the answer. Of course they were serious. These are the people I’ve surrounded myself with.
“This will be the purest child birth possible,” Gio said, waving the stick around. At that point, I was expecting him to just shove it in the water like an idiot, but if he did that then he wouldn’t be able to smother my child with smoke the second it exited the womb, so he didn’t. “An immediate cleansing of any negative auras.”
“I’m, like, ready,” Candi said through coughs as Gio stuck the lit sage right in her face.
She pushed. I’d never experienced a birth, not even in a video, but especially not in real life. For anyone who says it’s beautiful, I just have to question their judgment on such things. It was absolutely horrifying. I was also unsure if plopping a baby directly into water was even safe, but given how unprofessional everything else was, this was just par for the course. Really, the only miracle I witnessed was Candi didn’t say “like” in between her pained screams and heavy breathing.
In between the horrifying pushes, I kept thinking about the concept of raising a child all the way from birth. It wasn’t enough that I’d reeled Candi into this situation. I was about to be responsible for someone’s life. Me, the guy who was on Death’s doorstep. Me, the guy who can’t even handle taking care of himself. Me, Cid Turner.
This should have been a beautiful moment. With arms wide open and tears streaming down my face, I should be waiting to cradle my newborn child, welcoming it into the world.
Welcome to the world, little one. I will protect you for as long as I am able. Which, according to the prophecy of Gleebnorb, is probably only a week or two. Also, I’m fighting my life coach at a colossal wrestling event while suffering from spinal stenosis. I’m also having recurring visions of death, completely unrelated to the apocalyptic stuff. Anyway, point being: I’m here for you, my child. That’s my duty as your father. Welcome. Welcome, welcome, welcome.
No. I wouldn’t say any of that.
Instead, I found myself begging beneath the screams of Candi, “Please, don’t end up like me.”
I’m not sure who I was really talking to. It’s doubtful nobody would hear me underneath Candi’s wailing. Maybe I was talking to the kid. Maybe I was talking to God. Maybe I was just talking because I was absolutely terrified and it got me blabbering. I don’t know.
Either way, I continued.
“Please, don’t end up like me. Please, don’t end up like me. Please, don’t end up like me.”
Back inside those comforting walls, the voices are getting louder. Among them, you hear a familiar one. The lights are getting brighter. You’re being pulled towards it all, through the waves.
Despite everything that can and will occur, you let it happen, because that’s what you’re supposed to do. You let the current carry you away. Now, you’re swimming towards the sound. The sound of pleas. Your dad’s pleas. My pleas.
“Please, don’t end up like me.”
And then, it was out.
The so-called doctor reached down and gently lifted the baby—a boy—from the water.
Everyone stood around in a stunned silence. Like me, they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. After a moment, the baby boy was in my hands, crying. Even as I felt his slippery skin against my own, it still didn’t seem real.
The baby was black.
This was not my baby.
I was not holding my baby.
The baby was black.
From behind, I felt small waves brush against me as Sammy and Clammy waded through the water to get a closer look. The camera crew quickly followed, which couldn’t have been wise. Holly’s voice came over the iPad that Sammy was still carrying. She was demanding to see what was happening. Once she finally saw what everyone else was looking at, she fell silent like the rest.
“Oh, no,” Sammy said, breaking through the silence. “Beard’s curse…it continues.”
THE RISE OF THE FALLEN KING 