Chp. 2

*** Solana ***

Solana's heart was in her stomach as Mr. Gonza approached. Linda, his assistant, was beside him. She had a file under her arm as she typed on her phone with one hand. 

'Please god, I still need this job... for food... and rent.'

Her boss slowed his strides when he came a few feet closer.

"Good morning, Mr. Gonza. Miss Lance." She greeted the two. 

"You're early today." Her boss said. 

He had a curious frown on his face. She wondered if there was a right and wrong reply to that comment.

"I woke up early." Lame reply, she thought.

"Oh. Sweet. The meds must've worked wonders." He said.

Was that sarcasm? She would never know because she lacked the courage to ask. "I... guess." She mumbled.

The silence didn't last three seconds but it started to get awkward fast before he said,

"Well, it's good to know you're better now. Enjoy." He walked off into the sales floor with Linda trailing behind.

"Thanks... sir." She murmured.

"I don't think he heard that, Sol. He’s gone." Kofi said from the doorway. "Sup? Are you better?" 

Solana recalled that the boss was not the only victim of her lie. Every staff member who noticed her absence would've asked and been informed that she was ill.

"Yeah, I'm better. Miss me?" She asked.

"Nah. It’s polite to ask, that’s why. And I'm a great guy." Her colleague replied.

Smirking, she left him at the clocking machine and proceeded to her locker to get dressed.

The day went on normally and as she clocked out of work, she felt relaxed and grateful that she hadn't lost her job.

Those pleasant feelings were short-lived. When she got home that evening, another fear quickly replaced the one from earlier in the day.

Solana could feel her heart sinking into her stomach as she stared at her best friend. This can't be happening.

"So you're moving out?" 

"Not really moving... out." Julie looked guilty and it made Sol feel worse for making the girl uncomfortable. 

"He invited me and I've missed him, so I didn't refuse." She lowered her eyes in guilt again before adding, "And I won't be back soon."

Translation: She was moving out of the city to live with her fiance. She was not coming back anytime soon meant she was never coming back. They would be married soon. 

Solana wished she could hide the sick look on her face, but she wasn't ready to stop living with her best friend just yet. Especially because of the cost.

"What about work?" She asked Julie.

"You know my type of work, girl. No work, no pay. Plus, everyone is shifting to remote jobs nowadays. Isn't that why we're taking that free digital marketing course?"

Solana wanted to tell her that she was taking the course to improve her resume and chances of finding work. Not to move out of town with a man and get a work-from-home job. She didn't say that, however. It was not the point. 

Julie had been working as a freelance marketer for a loan and credit company. She only made money when she brought in clients. And sometimes, she made much more than Solana. Together they could afford the rent and utilities. Alone, with her cashier job, she could not.

Friends were supposed to be happy for each other when good things happened. And moving out of town with one's fiance was a good thing, right? Solana was not happy and she was ashamed of herself.

 

She thought it was shameful that her displeasure stemmed from the fact that rent was due in two weeks. She won't be able to meet up. Her half was nearly complete and it was not enough to keep the place or find a new apartment. The worst part was that she couldn't even hide her feelings.

"I'm so sorry, Sol. I know it's short notice and unexpected-"

"So postpone the move. Tell him to come, instead." She knew she sounded desperate but she didn't care.

"The truth is I don't have my half of the rent." Her friend blurted. "And to be honest, I need to save for the wedding too. I can't leave all the responsibility to David, it's not fair. When he asked me to join him, for the fourth time, I thought it was an opportunity to save on rent while being close to him, you know."

From the look in her eyes to the way she shifted nervously and avoided eye contact, Solana realized the decision was tough for Julie too. The girl was being reasonable.

She had refused to move in with the guy even when he was here in the city. Even though she claimed she didn't believe in living together until marriage, Sol always knew it was partly because of her. If she was agreeing to do it now, there was a good reason for it. It wasn't fair to make her feel worse than she already felt.

"It's okay, Jul. I understand." She nodded and the relief in her friend's eyes made her smile.

"You do?" Julie came to hug her.

"Just that I'm going to miss you." She returned the tight hug. 

"C'mon, how many hours of flight is it? We'll still see each other often." Her friend said in a voice thick with tears.

"True," Solana whispered, even though she knew it wasn't entirely true. Distance was a barrier to close friendships. Life would definitely get in the way and they would be lucky if they didn't go back to being strangers.

When they let go, Julie asked, "So what are going to do about rent?" 

"I'll figure it out." 

But how did she do that? Where did she even start? Solana took a deep breath to keep herself from panicking. She still had two weeks, at least. 

**********

*** Mark ***

Mark sat on the smooth grass next to his mother's grave, urging himself to wake up from this bad dream. It had to be a dream, he told himself over and over again as he took another drag from his weed. The sun had now turned from yellow to white, and it hurt his eyes when he tried to look overhead.

The gravestone in front of him seemed to disappear when he lowered his eyes, away from the sun. In its place was an indistinct shape he couldn't make out.

"On to the next scene." He whispered.

That was how dreams worked, wasn't it? One moment you're here. The next moment, you find yourself somewhere else, doing something entirely different. Except there was no next scene. His vision had cleared quickly. The gravestone was still in front of him and his mother's name was clearly inscribed upon it. He checked his wristwatch. Five minutes had passed since he last checked. 

It is said that if you ever feel confused about whether you are dreaming or awake, check the time, then look at something else. Check the time again, and if it has changed to a completely different time, you are definitely in dreamland. If not, it is real life.

His watch showed that the time had changed alright. But it had only moved forward five minutes. Did that count? He wondered.

Mark took the last drag from his weed, inhaling deeply before blowing out the smoke again. His mother hated this habit so much, he thought that perhaps she would appear and haunt him if he kept at it beside her grave. A stupid thought but the only hope he had of seeing her one last time.

Since the day after the funeral, visiting the cemetery to sit here on his arse had been his routine. It was hard to believe she was gone. He couldn't accept it.

And how could she have lied to him? "Don't worry, I'm not dying. Just a little tired, that's all." Her very last words to him. He hadn't even asked. She had deliberately deceived him. Even though her breathing had been labored, Mark recalled how that promise calmed his terror. It was the second time she had fainted all of a sudden. 

He had sat by her bed reading her favorite Maya Angelou poem to her. Barely an hour after her unforgivable lie, she had gone into cardiac arrest and never came out. The doctor had pronounced her dead. Like they do in horror movies.

That had been the start of this unending bad dream. His worst nightmare came into reality that evening. And he had been willing himself to wake up since then.

Mark checked his pocket for the last wrap of weed, but it was gone. Wow, did he already smoke them all? He couldn't recall at what point he lit one wrap after another. All four were gone. Should have bought more, he chided himself.

The plan was to continue to defy the woman until she appeared and began the haunting. Why was it taking so long? Why wasn't it working? He was stupid. This was a waste of time. Yet he couldn't bring himself to stop coming here.

That she thought someone like him could save her precious motel was her final joke. He wasn't saving shit because he couldn't. 

The problem was if he didn't, he'd be homeless and penniless in six months' time. Another reason to hate her for leaving. 

His hot take, after the will was revealed, was that his mother hated him as a son. She considered him a disappointing offspring who didn't deserve any inheritance. 

The woman knew he had zero skills and hated everything. The only thing he sometimes came close enough to enjoy was Numbers. And whenever he got involved, the madam always started to nag about how if he helped her often enough, the accounts wouldn't be so messy. 

Then she would go on to blame her ‘impregnator’ and his entire family for all her troubles.

Mark never knew his father. The only thing he knew of him was that most of his mother's problems were the old man's fault and the fact that he died too early. Then she would go on and complain of feeling so tired with all the stress.

Shit! He should've paid attention. He cursed as his heart started to hurt again like he was being stabbed.

The loud honk from a truck in the street brought Mark out of his thoughts. He checked his watch again. It was almost 9 a.m.

"Time to go sit in your precious motel and pretend life has any meaning. You know. Like you did all your life."

He tried to lift himself off the grass, but his legs had gone to sleep due to the position he sat in for so long. He sat back down, adjusted himself, and waited for his legs to regain their senses. Moments later, he stood up, eyes still on the tombstone, telling himself he would wake up at some point.