\u201cBe as quiet as you can.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo one\u2019s gonna hear me over the sound of that.\u201d<\/em> He pointed to their cozy, two-story home, lit up with flames.<\/p>\n \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter. They\u2019re radicals. If they find us, they\u2019ll shoot us in the fucking face. We have to keep moving,\u201d said Brad. He shifted uncomfortably and coughed His dress shoes and socks were soaked with swamp water. Mateo said nothing. The heat from the flames was melting his layers of theatrical makeup- mahogany skin drips and smudged eyeliner. A human candle. Brad reached for his hand. \u201cMateo. We really need to go. We can only stay hidden for so long.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n Brad knew something like this was going to eventually slither its way into his life. His career. His marriage. His conscious. Everyone\u2019s temperament tightened and tightened like a snakeskin that needed to molt. [perfectpullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Brad often felt like an old wad of skin.[\/perfectpullquote]<\/p>\n No longer needed, only covering up the truth but everyone saw right through it. Especially Mateo, it seemed. Mateo could always plug into what Brad was thinking. But he still made him say the thoughts out loud.<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not healthy to keep all that in,\u201d he\u2019d chide, \u201cyou try to fold in on yourself and hide from me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not always about you.\u201d<\/p>\n They had been driving for a little while down the freshly-paved Florida highway, Brad with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Winds from a nearby storm were picking up, but they stayed the course. They were used to it now, though they didn\u2019t want to be.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy are you so nervous?\u201d Mateo glanced over at Brad\u2019s bony hands. \u201cIt\u2019s just a holiday party.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re going to be meeting all of these people for the first time.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you\u2019re afraid I won\u2019t like them?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSince when do you care what I think?\u201d Mateo asked with a smirk. He wiped a stripe of dust off the dashboard.<\/p>\n \u201cSince always,\u201d Brad said quietly.<\/p>\n \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter if I like them. It doesn\u2019t even really matter if you<\/em> like them.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI like them fine.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s a fucking lie. I\u2019m surprised you\u2019re even going tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019ll be weird if I don\u2019t. Besides, I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll make it fun.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHey, I\u2019m not there to entertain. I\u2019m off the clock,\u201d Mateo pointed at his wrist that had no watch on it. \u201cI\u2019m there to eat food and nod and smile when people talk science-y at me.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDamn. I was hoping you\u2019d do your Mickey Mouse impression.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s for your ears only.\u201d<\/p>\n Brad loosened his grip on the wheel a little. The winds had eased up some too. Mateo cracked his window open.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019ll probably think I\u2019m weird. No, not weird. Useless.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow are you useless?\u201d Brad asked as he merged over, passing a slower-moving sedan.<\/p>\n \u201cI mean, you\u2019re actually doing something noteworthy. If someone was forced to shoot either an actor or a scientist, they\u2019d probably shoot the actor.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s\u2026 really grim, Mateo.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m just thinking out loud.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, I wish you wouldn\u2019t think that way.\u201d<\/p>\n Mateo just shrugged and looked out the window. They pulled into the hotel parking lot. The holiday party was to be held in one of the ballrooms. A large sign by the valet parking read \u201cWelcome, ORLANDO OIL!\u201d<\/p>\n Brad grimaced. \u201cThey should really take that down.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n The smoke from the last lab fire nearly suffocated him. His ashen face, sunken cheeks, and tired eyes were screened on every news outlet, unfairly exposed. [perfectpullquote align=”left” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Brad\u2019s identity and his story became a human rights morsel[\/perfectpullquote]<\/p>\n , a finger food of all the household conversations. He was the only lab worker that survived. Everyone else perished. Every single person that exchanged Secret Santa gifts and ate peppermint brownies and downed eggnog at the holiday party were ash.<\/p>\n They called it a terrorist attack.<\/p>\n Brad emerged with a permanent chemical burn that emblazoned his chest and the entirety of his left arm and hand.<\/p>\n Mateo took it personally.<\/p>\n \u201cThis is bullshit,\u201d he fidgeted with the tubes connected to Brad\u2019s oxygen mask, \u201cWe can\u2019t do this.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m\u2026 trying\u2026 to do\u2026 different things,\u201d Brad managed to say between clogged breaths.<\/p>\n \u201cWell, it doesn\u2019t matter now. You\u2019re not going back.\u201d<\/p>\n Brad stared at him with wet eyes.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat?\u201d Mateo plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned his head back. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.<\/p>\n Brad shrugged. He didn\u2019t feel like talking anymore. It hurt too much.<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m sorry. I know it seems like I\u2019m mad at you.\u201d<\/p>\n Brad rolled his eyes just a flicker and nodded.<\/p>\n \u201cOuch, okay. I felt that eye roll in my soul,\u201d he took Brad\u2019s bandaged hand in his, ever so carefully twining their fingers together. \u201cI\u2019m just scared. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever been this scared before.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n That was all some time ago. Brad still had a cough now and then but was mostly better. If he had to cough during one of Mateo\u2019s plays, he put a hand over his mouth and held it until his eyes watered.<\/p>\n \u201cAlong with me! I\u2019ll see what hole is here and what he is that is now leapt into it-\u201d Mateo\u2019s voice bellowed through the auditorium.<\/p>\n Brad involuntarily spit into his hand. His heart jumped.<\/p>\n Mateo stared down at him from the stage with heavily-inked eyelids. His forehead was sweating underneath the fake crown and bright lights. Brad waved off his gaze and buried his face into the crook of his elbow.<\/p>\n \u201cSay,\u201d Mateo cautiously continued, \u201cWho are thou that lately didst descend into this gaping hollow of the earth?\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n [perfectpullquote align=”right” cite=”” link=”” color=”” class=”” size=””]Now they watched their home burn.[\/perfectpullquote]<\/p>\n Someone had recognized them and followed their car all the way back, two car distances behind, headlights dimmed. The circle of suspects was getting tighter.<\/p>\n \u201cOur home\u2026\u201d Mateo whispered mournfully over and over again, \u201cOur home\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cMateo, we can\u2019t-\u201d<\/p>\n Brad felt the irritation from the smoke rise in his chest and throat. Mateo had forcefully shoved Brad out of the bathroom window first, but he still swallowed too much. Too much for someone already previously exposed. He doubled over and hacked into the swampy grass, hands on his knees. Mateo touched his arm.<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, we\u2019re going. You\u2019re going to get sick again,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Brad coughed out one more forceful gust of infected air. He looked up at him and nodded, took his hand, and entwined their fingers.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" \u201cBe as quiet as you can.\u201d \u201cNo one\u2019s gonna hear me over the sound of that.\u201d He pointed to their cozy, two-story home, lit up with flames. \u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter. They\u2019re radicals. If they find us, they\u2019ll shoot us in the fucking face. We have to keep moving,\u201d said Brad. He shifted uncomfortably and coughed […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":34,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"off","_et_pb_old_content":"\u201cBe as quiet as you can.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cNo one\u2019s gonna hear me over the sound of that.\u201d<\/em> He pointed to their cozy, two-story home, lit up with flames.\r\n\r\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter. They\u2019re radicals. If they find us, they\u2019ll shoot us in the fucking face. We have to keep moving,\u201d said Brad. He shifted uncomfortably and coughed His dress shoes and socks were soaked with swamp water. Mateo said nothing. The heat from the flames was melting his layers of theatrical makeup- mahogany skin drips and smudged eyeliner. A human candle. Brad reached for his hand. \u201cMateo. We really need to go. We can only stay hidden for so long.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u2026\r\n\r\nBrad knew something like this was going to eventually slither its way into his life. His career. His marriage. His conscious. Everyone\u2019s temperament tightened and tightened like a snakeskin that needed to molt. [perfectpullquote align=\"left\" cite=\"\" link=\"\" color=\"\" class=\"\" size=\"\"]Brad often felt like an old wad of skin.[\/perfectpullquote]\r\n\r\nNo longer needed, only covering up the truth but everyone saw right through it. Especially Mateo, it seemed. Mateo could always plug into what Brad was thinking. But he still made him say the thoughts out loud.\r\n\r\n\u201cIt\u2019s not healthy to keep all that in,\u201d he\u2019d chide, \u201cyou try to fold in on yourself and hide from me.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIt\u2019s not always about you.\u201d\r\n\r\nThey had been driving for a little while down the freshly-paved Florida highway, Brad with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Winds from a nearby storm were picking up, but they stayed the course. They were used to it now, though they didn\u2019t want to be.\r\n\r\n\u201cWhy are you so nervous?\u201d Mateo glanced over at Brad\u2019s bony hands. \u201cIt\u2019s just a holiday party.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYou\u2019re going to be meeting all of these people for the first time.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cAnd you\u2019re afraid I won\u2019t like them?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cYes.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cSince when do you care what I think?\u201d Mateo asked with a smirk. He wiped a stripe of dust off the dashboard.\r\n\r\n\u201cSince always,\u201d Brad said quietly.\r\n\r\n\u201cIt doesn\u2019t matter if I like them. It doesn\u2019t even really matter if you<\/em> like them.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI like them fine.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThat\u2019s a fucking lie. I\u2019m surprised you\u2019re even going tonight.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cIt\u2019ll be weird if I don\u2019t. Besides, I\u2019m sure you\u2019ll make it fun.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHey, I\u2019m not there to entertain. I\u2019m off the clock,\u201d Mateo pointed at his wrist that had no watch on it. \u201cI\u2019m there to eat food and nod and smile when people talk science-y at me.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cDamn. I was hoping you\u2019d do your Mickey Mouse impression.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThat\u2019s for your ears only.\u201d\r\n\r\nBrad loosened his grip on the wheel a little. The winds had eased up some too. Mateo cracked his window open.\r\n\r\n\u201cThey\u2019ll probably think I\u2019m weird. No, not weird. Useless.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cHow are you useless?\u201d Brad asked as he merged over, passing a slower-moving sedan.\r\n\r\n\u201cI mean, you\u2019re actually doing something noteworthy. If someone was forced to shoot either an actor or a scientist, they\u2019d probably shoot the actor.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cThat\u2019s\u2026 really grim, Mateo.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019m just thinking out loud.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cWell, I wish you wouldn\u2019t think that way.\u201d\r\n\r\nMateo just shrugged and looked out the window. They pulled into the hotel parking lot. The holiday party was to be held in one of the ballrooms. A large sign by the valet parking read \u201cWelcome, ORLANDO OIL!\u201d\r\n\r\nBrad grimaced. \u201cThey should really take that down.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u2026\r\n\r\nThe smoke from the last lab fire nearly suffocated him. His ashen face, sunken cheeks, and tired eyes were screened on every news outlet, unfairly exposed. [perfectpullquote align=\"left\" cite=\"\" link=\"\" color=\"\" class=\"\" size=\"\"]Brad\u2019s identity and his story became a human rights morsel[\/perfectpullquote]\r\n\r\n, a finger food of all the household conversations. He was the only lab worker that survived. Everyone else perished. Every single person that exchanged Secret Santa gifts and ate peppermint brownies and downed eggnog at the holiday party were ash.\r\n\r\nThey called it a terrorist attack.\r\n\r\nBrad emerged with a permanent chemical burn that emblazoned his chest and the entirety of his left arm and hand.\r\n\r\nMateo took it personally.\r\n\r\n\u201cThis is bullshit,\u201d he fidgeted with the tubes connected to Brad\u2019s oxygen mask, \u201cWe can\u2019t do this.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019m\u2026 trying\u2026 to do\u2026 different things,\u201d Brad managed to say between clogged breaths.\r\n\r\n\u201cWell, it doesn\u2019t matter now. You\u2019re not going back.\u201d\r\n\r\nBrad stared at him with wet eyes.\r\n\r\n\u201cWhat?\u201d Mateo plopped down on the couch next to him and leaned his head back. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot.\r\n\r\nBrad shrugged. He didn\u2019t feel like talking anymore. It hurt too much.\r\n\r\n\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I know it seems like I\u2019m mad at you.\u201d\r\n\r\nBrad rolled his eyes just a flicker and nodded.\r\n\r\n\u201cOuch, okay. I felt that eye roll in my soul,\u201d he took Brad\u2019s bandaged hand in his, ever so carefully twining their fingers together. \u201cI\u2019m just scared. I don\u2019t think I\u2019ve ever been this scared before.\u201d\r\n\r\n\u2026\r\n\r\nThat was all some time ago. Brad still had a cough now and then but was mostly better. If he had to cough during one of Mateo\u2019s plays, he put a hand over his mouth and held it until his eyes watered.\r\n\r\n\u201cAlong with me! I\u2019ll see what hole is here and what he is that is now leapt into it-\u201d Mateo\u2019s voice bellowed through the auditorium.\r\n\r\nBrad involuntarily spit into his hand. His heart jumped.\r\n\r\nMateo stared down at him from the stage with heavily-inked eyelids. His forehead was sweating underneath the fake crown and bright lights. Brad waved off his gaze and buried his face into the crook of his elbow.\r\n\r\n\u201cSay,\u201d Mateo cautiously continued, \u201cWho are thou that lately didst descend into this gaping hollow of the earth?\u201d\r\n\r\n\u2026\r\n\r\n[perfectpullquote align=\"right\" cite=\"\" link=\"\" color=\"\" class=\"\" size=\"\"]Now they watched their home burn.[\/perfectpullquote]\r\n\r\nSomeone had recognized them and followed their car all the way back, two car distances behind, headlights dimmed. The circle of suspects was getting tighter.\r\n\r\n\u201cOur home\u2026\u201d Mateo whispered mournfully over and over again, \u201cOur home\u2026\u201d\r\n\r\n\u201cMateo, we can\u2019t-\u201d\r\n\r\nBrad felt the irritation from the smoke rise in his chest and throat. Mateo had forcefully shoved Brad out of the bathroom window first, but he still swallowed too much. Too much for someone already previously exposed. He doubled over and hacked into the swampy grass, hands on his knees. Mateo touched his arm.\r\n\r\n\u201cOkay, we\u2019re going. You\u2019re going to get sick again,\u201d he said.\r\n\r\nBrad coughed out one more forceful gust of infected air. He looked up at him and nodded, took his hand, and entwined their fingers.\r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n \r\n\r\n ","footnotes":""},"categories":[82,75],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-4347","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-climate-fiction","category-the-incalculable-malice-of-the-everyday"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4347","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/34"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4347"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4347\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4555,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4347\/revisions\/4555"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4347"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4347"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/grangehallpress.com\/Enbridgeblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4347"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}