On the morning of the first of June, Siyanda got up and went through zir morning routine of showering, dressing, makeup. Ze had coffee. Ze remembered to eat a decent breakfast. Ze kissed Faiza on the cheek and bid a civil goodbye to zir parents, and then ze grabbed zir luggage and hauled it out to the driveway.
Ze sat in the car for just a minute, listening to the engine purr and the radio mumble, and then ze pulled out of the driveway and started on the usual route to the school.
Ze pulled into the parking lot early. The buses were waiting already, but few other cars were there.
Dean was going to be there, and Bert, and Beryl, and Nona. Maybe Artem? Siyanda had never gotten around to asking him what he thought of the trip or if he planned on going during their occasional chats in the library. He would have been a pretty good roommate assignment. Quiet.
Five more minutes.
Siyanda exhaled slowly and leaned forward to rest zir forehead against the steering wheel.
Five more minutes. Then nine hours. Then a week. Then nine more hours. That was all. That was worth it, right?
This would have been an easier argument with zirself to win if ze hadn’t already pulled up the route to Nashville in Google Maps before leaving the house.
The idea had been there for longer than ze had cared to acknowledge it, really. The last week had just been… everything and nothing, and the flat realization that no, it really wasn’t worth it. Siyanda was going places, and those places included D.C. someday, because ze wanted to see it and maybe even go to school there, but not today. Not next week, not with zir classmates on a noisy bus and in a crowded hotel room.
Honestly, bluntly? Siyanda didn’t like most of the people ze went to school with. For the few ze did, it wasn’t fair to put a damper on their trip by being sour about the circumstances.
Siyanda had never been to D.C. You know where else ze had never been for an extended period of time, a place that also had museums and all that shit ze was kind of interested in, a place that was much closer? Nashville. You know what Siyanda had? Money, because ze had worked two freaking jobs for almost two years now. Ze could afford a cheap-ish hotel room for a week and gas and museum admission.
Two freaking jobs on top of school and band and volunteering, because ze had some freakish need to be better than everyone else on top of just being successful. Because ze had to be the best. Maybe a handful of other people cared. At this point, Siyanda zirself barely cared. It wasn’t fun anymore. Having the highest grades, the strongest work ethic, the most extracurriculars? Who cared? It was all resume padding, and ze was taking time off before college anyway.
It wasn't the destination that mattered, really. Nor the journey, as the saying went. What ze wanted most was solitude.
It was the end of high school. Ze was 18. Ze had a bright future, according to everyone who ever bothered to comment on it. Perfect time for an existential crisis.
As far as zir parents knew, ze was accounted for. They were used to not hearing from zem. Faiza would probably be mad that she didn’t get any pictures or souvenirs, but that was a small price to pay for sanity, in the grand scheme of things.
Siyanda started the car again and pulled out of the parking lot, leaving the school and other students who were just beginning to trickle in behind zem.
Zombies Never Die (Reprise)
Zombies Never Die (Reprise)
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
The drive between Chattanooga and Nashville was only about two hours in decent traffic conditions, but it had a reputation for having all kinds of detours one could possibly take for sightseeing. Siyanda had looked up a little bit about it the night before, still toying with the idea of doing this at all and remaining in denial that ze was more than likely going to go through with it. A lot of what ze had found was various hiking trails and camping or outdoor swimming spots, so those were out. Several more required stopping in or going out of your way to visit various small towns that boasted one or two attractions, and those were also unlikely. Ze wasn't feeling quite adventurous enough to bother with all of that. An hour into the drive, ze still kept glancing at zir phone every so often, half-expecting a call demanding to know where ze was.
The call never came. There was no real reason to expect that it would, just the heightened tension of doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.
Technically, Siyanda supposed that this counted as running away from home for a bit. Maybe that should have bothered zem, or maybe ze should have been bothered that ze wasn't bothered by it. Maybe the fact that ze planned to come back softened it. Obviously, ze wasn't going to have anything to show for a trip to the capitol, but there was the slim chance that Siyanda's family would never know that ze had taken this detour at all.
Of course, there was also the chance that there would be a fight over it, and it would be a whole ordeal, but zir bed was pretty much made. Even if ze turned around now, the buses would be long gone by the time ze got back to the school.
With half an hour to go, Siyanda pulled over at a Speedway. Gas, bathroom break, snack. Ze forewent coffee and got a bottle of water instead; ze planned on napping as soon as ze got to the hotel.
Siyanda pulled up the details of the hotel ze had settled on before setting out again to finish out the last half-hour of the drive. Ze had picked one out that looked cheap, but not sketchy enough that ze was likely to get stabbed in the parking lot. Staying for a whole week was going to cut a chunk out of zir savings, but that was what savings were for.
Still no messages on zir phone, even from people on the trip wondering where ze was. The lack of even Dean checking in was... well, a little disappointing, admittedly. Odds were though, everyone was either asleep on the bus or having a good enough time that it hadn't occurred to them.
Maybe it was ideal that they all forgot ze was even supposed to be there.
The call never came. There was no real reason to expect that it would, just the heightened tension of doing something you weren't supposed to be doing.
Technically, Siyanda supposed that this counted as running away from home for a bit. Maybe that should have bothered zem, or maybe ze should have been bothered that ze wasn't bothered by it. Maybe the fact that ze planned to come back softened it. Obviously, ze wasn't going to have anything to show for a trip to the capitol, but there was the slim chance that Siyanda's family would never know that ze had taken this detour at all.
Of course, there was also the chance that there would be a fight over it, and it would be a whole ordeal, but zir bed was pretty much made. Even if ze turned around now, the buses would be long gone by the time ze got back to the school.
With half an hour to go, Siyanda pulled over at a Speedway. Gas, bathroom break, snack. Ze forewent coffee and got a bottle of water instead; ze planned on napping as soon as ze got to the hotel.
Siyanda pulled up the details of the hotel ze had settled on before setting out again to finish out the last half-hour of the drive. Ze had picked one out that looked cheap, but not sketchy enough that ze was likely to get stabbed in the parking lot. Staying for a whole week was going to cut a chunk out of zir savings, but that was what savings were for.
Still no messages on zir phone, even from people on the trip wondering where ze was. The lack of even Dean checking in was... well, a little disappointing, admittedly. Odds were though, everyone was either asleep on the bus or having a good enough time that it hadn't occurred to them.
Maybe it was ideal that they all forgot ze was even supposed to be there.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
The hotel was better than expected. Given the price, Siyanda had vaguely expected that ze would be plagued by mysterious but forbidding stains in the furniture or on the walls, or the smell of cigarette smoke, or something like that. Instead, the furniture seemed old but at least clean, and if there were bugs, they made themselves scarce enough and ze resolved not to think too hard about them. No corpses or stains that hinted at corpses.
Ze set zir luggage against the wall and kicked off zir shoes. Ze retrieved their phone charger from one of zir bags, set the phone to airplane mode, and plugged it in.
Then ze flopped face down on the bed and slept.
It was mid-afternoon when ze woke again to find black and bronze smears ground into the off-white pillowcase. Siyanda grumbled at zir oversight and rolled out of bed to go wash zir face. In transit, ze peeled the pillowcase off the pillow and tossed it in the floor to deal with later.
The dark shadows beneath zir eyes were uncomfortably prominent with no makeup on. Ze fretted over it in the bathroom mirror for a minute or two before turning away with a sigh. It wasn't like anybody who knew zem was going to see zem.
Right.
Now what?
Here ze was, alone in an unfamiliar city, having ensured that a sum of money slightly too large to write off and paid by zir parents was going to waste. Nobody knew or even suspected that ze was here, ze didn't have any real plans, and wasn't entirely sure what ze intended to accomplish with this weird act of rebellion besides tooling around with no strings attached.
...
The hotel had a pool, and nobody who knew zem was going to see zem in a swimsuit.
Siyanda had spent such a long time striving to be something that ze had never considered being forgettable. You didn't want to be forgettable in high school, when everyone was clamoring to be noticed, by each other, by their teachers and parents, by colleges and talent scouts and whatever other kind of authority was there to hand out praise and the building blocks of the rest of your life.
A young couple with two small children occupied the pool area when ze arrived. It was almost enough to make zem turn back around, but- why? Siyanda didn't know them. Ze was never going to see them again. In all likelihood, they had no real thoughts on Siyanda at all and would forget ze was ever there when they moved on.
In a week-ish, ze would be graduating and could go back to shoving zirself into the spotlight as the smartest, the hardest-working, whatever. It had been a really long time since ze'd bothered to go swimming.
Siyanda pulled zir t-shirt over zir head, set it on a chair with zir towel and shoes, and cannonballed into the pool. Ze almost came up laughing.
Ze set zir luggage against the wall and kicked off zir shoes. Ze retrieved their phone charger from one of zir bags, set the phone to airplane mode, and plugged it in.
Then ze flopped face down on the bed and slept.
It was mid-afternoon when ze woke again to find black and bronze smears ground into the off-white pillowcase. Siyanda grumbled at zir oversight and rolled out of bed to go wash zir face. In transit, ze peeled the pillowcase off the pillow and tossed it in the floor to deal with later.
The dark shadows beneath zir eyes were uncomfortably prominent with no makeup on. Ze fretted over it in the bathroom mirror for a minute or two before turning away with a sigh. It wasn't like anybody who knew zem was going to see zem.
Right.
Now what?
Here ze was, alone in an unfamiliar city, having ensured that a sum of money slightly too large to write off and paid by zir parents was going to waste. Nobody knew or even suspected that ze was here, ze didn't have any real plans, and wasn't entirely sure what ze intended to accomplish with this weird act of rebellion besides tooling around with no strings attached.
...
The hotel had a pool, and nobody who knew zem was going to see zem in a swimsuit.
Siyanda had spent such a long time striving to be something that ze had never considered being forgettable. You didn't want to be forgettable in high school, when everyone was clamoring to be noticed, by each other, by their teachers and parents, by colleges and talent scouts and whatever other kind of authority was there to hand out praise and the building blocks of the rest of your life.
A young couple with two small children occupied the pool area when ze arrived. It was almost enough to make zem turn back around, but- why? Siyanda didn't know them. Ze was never going to see them again. In all likelihood, they had no real thoughts on Siyanda at all and would forget ze was ever there when they moved on.
In a week-ish, ze would be graduating and could go back to shoving zirself into the spotlight as the smartest, the hardest-working, whatever. It had been a really long time since ze'd bothered to go swimming.
Siyanda pulled zir t-shirt over zir head, set it on a chair with zir towel and shoes, and cannonballed into the pool. Ze almost came up laughing.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
It was the next morning, over a plate of passable scrambled eggs and honestly pretty terrible coffee courtesy of the complimentary breakfast that Siyanda noticed Dean's text.
Zir phone was still on airplane mode and ze intended to keep it that way, but the little notification bubble over text messages caught zir eye. Upon opening it, ze called up the vague memory that ze had, in fact, seen the text the previous morning while getting ready but had thoughtlessly swiped it aside to read and answer later. Ze had forgotten all about it.
So Dean wasn't on the trip after all, struck down with a sudden illness. It stirred up a further twinge of guilt over the fact that ze had ignored and forgotten the message until now. Ze almost switched airplane mode off to text back and inquire how he was doing, but then he'd ask about the trip and ze would either have to lie or explain where ze actually was and then that might get around. Neither option sounded great, but continuing to not respond was also a dick move and probably made zem a bad... whatever ze was to Dean.
Now there was a mental can of worms that Siyanda didn't feel particularly inclined to open right now.
In the end, ze settled for the dick move. Apologizing for being dramatic and antisocial later was easier than explaining zirself right now.
...The National Museum of African American Music was in Nashville. Maybe ze would go today.
Zir phone was still on airplane mode and ze intended to keep it that way, but the little notification bubble over text messages caught zir eye. Upon opening it, ze called up the vague memory that ze had, in fact, seen the text the previous morning while getting ready but had thoughtlessly swiped it aside to read and answer later. Ze had forgotten all about it.
So Dean wasn't on the trip after all, struck down with a sudden illness. It stirred up a further twinge of guilt over the fact that ze had ignored and forgotten the message until now. Ze almost switched airplane mode off to text back and inquire how he was doing, but then he'd ask about the trip and ze would either have to lie or explain where ze actually was and then that might get around. Neither option sounded great, but continuing to not respond was also a dick move and probably made zem a bad... whatever ze was to Dean.
Now there was a mental can of worms that Siyanda didn't feel particularly inclined to open right now.
In the end, ze settled for the dick move. Apologizing for being dramatic and antisocial later was easier than explaining zirself right now.
...The National Museum of African American Music was in Nashville. Maybe ze would go today.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
The National Museum of African American Music, disappointingly, turned out to not actually exist. Despite the heavy advertisement that Siyanda had found while searching for museums in and around Nashville, the NMAAM wasn't having its grand opening until 2020.
That was... annoying. Ze probably should have looked a little more closely at the information before deciding ze wanted to pay a visit, but ze couldn't help feeling misled.
Say, the way one might feel if they thought a friend was going to be taking a fun end-of-school trip with them, and then said friend flaked with no warning or explanation.
Siyanda sighed and leaned forward to rest zir forehead on the steering wheel of the car again. After figuring out the NMAAM wasn't open yet, ze had decided to go to the Parthenon instead, but ze had yet to get out and actually go take a look. There were a lot of people milling around, and the morning's disappointment hadn't exactly put zem in a social mood.
It was what ze got for this whole harebrained detour, really.
The Parthenon and other similar reconstructions of famous landmarks had always struck zem as a particularly random and dishonest kind of tourist attraction. It was unoriginal. Sure, not everyone was enamored with your city's giant ball of twine, or whatever the hell, but just straight up copying someone else's construction? It was like copying your classmate's homework.
Still, Siyanda looked out at it, thought of the alternate possibility that ze could be squeezed into an even more crowded place with fewer strangers among the crowd, and finally got out of the car. Could be worse. Probably. It wasn't so bad really, once ze looked around. If anything, the real one in Greece was probably underwhelming. At least this one had an art gallery attached to it.
Ancient history as tourism had always somewhat baffled zem when ze stopped to think about it. People turning up not for academic reasons or to feel in touch with their own personal history, but just to gawk. Just to stand on some long-dead person's work and... feel? What were you supposed to feel? Awe, probably, but people had been building ever since they figured out how. There were works of architecture now that put the ancients to shame, just as there were old constructions that modern people were too dumb and shortsighted to figure out. So much more of human history had been lost than would ever be known, grains of sand slipping through humanity's collective fingers and gone forever.
How much did you lose just in the day to day, the things you thought of saying but didn't? How much did others not say to you? Even now, when more people than ever were recording their every inane thought and posting it online for anyone to see, how much meaningful was actually said?
There were people who legitimately believed that fucking aliens had built the pyramids. Those beliefs were what thousands upon thousands of years of history had been forgotten for. Nevermind the more recent history that people wanted to erase even as others fought to preserve it. There were times, like just now, that Siyanda felt the vastness of the universe and the insignificance of everything that ze knew and the impossible, impossible idea of eternity grinding everything into dust someday.
Ze usually took it as a sign of being overcaffeinated, when ze started thinking like this. Probably also a sign of loneliness.
Ze had friends, but how much effort had ze been putting into actually maintaining those friendships? When given the chance, ze had gotten overwhelmed and run away. Ze didn't like talking to zir parents, and didn't confide in Faiza so much because ze didn't want her to worry.
Fuck, if Siyanda wanted to flake out on the trip, ze should have at least gone back home and checked up on Dean. Even as ze thought that, ze knew that ze was just going to keep putting it off.
Just until the end of the week. Then everything would be back to normal, back to the grind.
Let zem wallow. Ze had earned it.
That was... annoying. Ze probably should have looked a little more closely at the information before deciding ze wanted to pay a visit, but ze couldn't help feeling misled.
Say, the way one might feel if they thought a friend was going to be taking a fun end-of-school trip with them, and then said friend flaked with no warning or explanation.
Siyanda sighed and leaned forward to rest zir forehead on the steering wheel of the car again. After figuring out the NMAAM wasn't open yet, ze had decided to go to the Parthenon instead, but ze had yet to get out and actually go take a look. There were a lot of people milling around, and the morning's disappointment hadn't exactly put zem in a social mood.
It was what ze got for this whole harebrained detour, really.
The Parthenon and other similar reconstructions of famous landmarks had always struck zem as a particularly random and dishonest kind of tourist attraction. It was unoriginal. Sure, not everyone was enamored with your city's giant ball of twine, or whatever the hell, but just straight up copying someone else's construction? It was like copying your classmate's homework.
Still, Siyanda looked out at it, thought of the alternate possibility that ze could be squeezed into an even more crowded place with fewer strangers among the crowd, and finally got out of the car. Could be worse. Probably. It wasn't so bad really, once ze looked around. If anything, the real one in Greece was probably underwhelming. At least this one had an art gallery attached to it.
Ancient history as tourism had always somewhat baffled zem when ze stopped to think about it. People turning up not for academic reasons or to feel in touch with their own personal history, but just to gawk. Just to stand on some long-dead person's work and... feel? What were you supposed to feel? Awe, probably, but people had been building ever since they figured out how. There were works of architecture now that put the ancients to shame, just as there were old constructions that modern people were too dumb and shortsighted to figure out. So much more of human history had been lost than would ever be known, grains of sand slipping through humanity's collective fingers and gone forever.
How much did you lose just in the day to day, the things you thought of saying but didn't? How much did others not say to you? Even now, when more people than ever were recording their every inane thought and posting it online for anyone to see, how much meaningful was actually said?
There were people who legitimately believed that fucking aliens had built the pyramids. Those beliefs were what thousands upon thousands of years of history had been forgotten for. Nevermind the more recent history that people wanted to erase even as others fought to preserve it. There were times, like just now, that Siyanda felt the vastness of the universe and the insignificance of everything that ze knew and the impossible, impossible idea of eternity grinding everything into dust someday.
Ze usually took it as a sign of being overcaffeinated, when ze started thinking like this. Probably also a sign of loneliness.
Ze had friends, but how much effort had ze been putting into actually maintaining those friendships? When given the chance, ze had gotten overwhelmed and run away. Ze didn't like talking to zir parents, and didn't confide in Faiza so much because ze didn't want her to worry.
Fuck, if Siyanda wanted to flake out on the trip, ze should have at least gone back home and checked up on Dean. Even as ze thought that, ze knew that ze was just going to keep putting it off.
Just until the end of the week. Then everything would be back to normal, back to the grind.
Let zem wallow. Ze had earned it.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
"You know, I, uh. I've never done this before. You can probably tell."
"I, uh. I kinda had a hunch. And stuff. Heh."
Nerves aside, Dean walked zem through how to use the grinder, how to roll a joint and light it, how to inhale without choking. Ze choked anyway, and he laughed it off again. He made zem laugh too, even though there were tears pricking at the corners of zir eyes from the smoke and the coughing.
Ze had never been kissed before either. Thought about it, sure, and Dean had been the most recent person to feature in that particular little fantasy.
Clumsy, soft. Two moths bumping into each other in the night. He touched zir cheek, then zir neck, then zir collarbone, and slid the collar of zir dress off zir shoulder.
"Hey," ze breathed, and before ze could figure out what ze wanted to say, ze woke up alone in the hotel room.
There was still a fading mark at the join of zir neck and shoulder, hidden by zir shirt. A secret. It was almost gone when ze looked at it in the mirror now.
Siyanda went through the morning routine of showering, dressing, makeup. Ze had the terrible hotel coffee. Ze ate an okay breakfast. Ze thought of taking zir phone off airplane mode and letting someone know that ze would be home soon, but decided against it. Everyone back home knew what time the buses were supposed to get back this morning. Siyanda was probably going to end up lagging behind them a bit. Either way, it was just two hours.
It had been a week of alternately reveling and sulking and visiting random places in between. The adventure was over. It was time to go back to the real world.
As ze repacked everything and left, ze was surprised to find that ze was kind of looking forward to going home.
"I, uh. I kinda had a hunch. And stuff. Heh."
Nerves aside, Dean walked zem through how to use the grinder, how to roll a joint and light it, how to inhale without choking. Ze choked anyway, and he laughed it off again. He made zem laugh too, even though there were tears pricking at the corners of zir eyes from the smoke and the coughing.
Ze had never been kissed before either. Thought about it, sure, and Dean had been the most recent person to feature in that particular little fantasy.
Clumsy, soft. Two moths bumping into each other in the night. He touched zir cheek, then zir neck, then zir collarbone, and slid the collar of zir dress off zir shoulder.
"Hey," ze breathed, and before ze could figure out what ze wanted to say, ze woke up alone in the hotel room.
There was still a fading mark at the join of zir neck and shoulder, hidden by zir shirt. A secret. It was almost gone when ze looked at it in the mirror now.
Siyanda went through the morning routine of showering, dressing, makeup. Ze had the terrible hotel coffee. Ze ate an okay breakfast. Ze thought of taking zir phone off airplane mode and letting someone know that ze would be home soon, but decided against it. Everyone back home knew what time the buses were supposed to get back this morning. Siyanda was probably going to end up lagging behind them a bit. Either way, it was just two hours.
It had been a week of alternately reveling and sulking and visiting random places in between. The adventure was over. It was time to go back to the real world.
As ze repacked everything and left, ze was surprised to find that ze was kind of looking forward to going home.
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."
Chattanooga's skyline - it did have one, though certainly not on par with say, New York City, or even Washington, D.C. - stood in the early afternoon sunshine with a comfortable familiarity. How strange, to be glad to come home. Siyanda hadn't felt homesick at all in the last week, but ze was still glad. Everything looked a little nicer after not having to look at it for a few days.
Instead of going straight home, ze turned and went downtown to grab lunch. There was a Chipotle not far from the mall that ze had been thinking about for most of the drive. It was a bit crowded, and most of Siyanda's focus fell to avoiding too much jostling by the other customers as they all weaved their way in and out and through the line. A couple of the workers seemed distracted; Siyanda thought ze might have recognized one of them from school, but not someone from zir grade, so ze couldn't be sure. Ze got zir food to go instead of continuing to face the crowd.
There were no cars in the driveway when ze got home, which wasn't especially out of the ordinary. Faiza might have had a late-season soccer game today that ze had forgotten about, or everyone else might have gone out for lunch, or any other number of things. Siyanda called out anyway when ze opened the front door, bringing in the Chipotle but leaving zir luggage in the car for the moment.
"I'm home!"
No voices answered, but there was a soft patter that preceded the arrival of a striped gray tabby cat in the front hall, closely followed by an orange one. Pumpkin and Pie both started in with a cacophony of reproachful meowing even as they jostled for first place in winding around zir ankles. Siyanda crouched down to rub zir free hand over both fuzzy heads.
"Hello," ze cooed. "Were you lonely? Did you get neglected while I was gone?" They certainly hadn't, considering all the complaints if the bottom of their food bowls were even slightly visible, and Faiza was more than willing to lavish attention on the cats while Siyanda wasn't around. They still acted like they'd been starved both literally and metaphorically whenever Siyanda was gone for more than a day.
After a liberal application of scritches both behind the ears and beneath the chin, Pumpkin and Pie were satisfied enough to break away from Siyanda's reach and implore zem to follow them to the kitchen. Ze did so, refilled the food and water to satisfactory levels, and left zir own food on the table for the moment while ze made a detour through the house and out to the back patio.
Nestled in the far corner of the patio, well out of reach of the cats, was a spacious wooden birdhouse on a stand. The woodwork was really quite nice - in all except zir bitterest, teen-angstiest moments, Siyanda could look at it and love zir dad far more deeply than he probably thought ze did these days for the work he'd put into making it. The paint was more amateurish, layered on too thick in places and thin enough that it had fully worn off in others, evidence of zir unsteady but enthusiastic hand. The white had faded to gray, and the blue trim to a slightly different shade of gray. All in all though, the birdhouse had stood the test of the past couple of years quite well.
When Siyanda stepped up to it and clicked zir tongue softly, a small head poked out of the entry and regarded zem with bright, intelligent eyes.
"Hi there, sweetheart," ze murmured. Ze held up a hand, and Lotte emerged fully from her house and stepped onto it, giving herself a shake and ruffling her feathers before settling down again. Siyanda stroked her head and back with one finger until she nipped at zem. She was temperamental even with zem, but she never let anybody else hold her. Seeing that she'd evidently had her fill of affection, Siyanda carried her to the hanging feeder and lifted her up to the perch, where she gladly stepped up and started eating.
Lotte didn't necessarily need the help; her wing had never healed quite right after colliding with the window, and she hadn't been able to properly fly since, but she could make the distance from the birdhouse and the feeder with little trouble. Siyanda had always fussed over her though, and she was used to it enough to expect zem to ferry her over when ze came out to check on her. Imperious little queen of the backyard.
There was nothing to check on in the birdhouse; it was a bit late in the year for nesting, at least for crows, and Lotte hadn't nested at all so far since she'd been living on the back patio. Siyanda had spotted other crows in the backyard plenty of times, and Lotte interacted with them when they came up to the patio, but evidently none of the males that visited had impressed her yet. Ze still held out hope for baby chicks one spring, but this year wasn't the year.
Lotte crackled at zem when she was done eating, and ze dutifully carried her back to her house. She fluttered up to perch on top of it, received one final pet, and stood watch as ze finally headed back inside.
With all of the important things taken care of, Siyanda washed zir hands, grabbed the Chipotle bag from the kitchen table, and headed into the living room to drop onto the couch and finally eat. The cats wasted little time in joining zem, Pumpkin on the arm of the couch and Pie in Siyanda's lap, hoping to steal any bit of cheese that dropped.
"Vulture," ze said to her. She purred and rubbed her head against zir arm.
And that was how Siyanda's parents and sister found zem, in front of the TV with some Mythbusters rerun playing while ze half paid attention, absently eating chips and salsa and surrounded by cats.
"Hey," ze said, glancing up, and ze only had about half a second to wonder whey the three of them looked so pale before Faiza and their mom both effectively tackled zem, sending the cats fleeing.
"You asshole!" Faiza screeched, and Mom had burst into tears, and then Faiza had also burst into tears, and they were both hugging Siyanda, who just kind of sat frozen, confused and vaguely terrified at why ze was being accosted like this. Dad was saying something too, but it was drowned out by the crying.
"We were just at the school and-"
"-nobody else has heard what happened yet-"
"-not answering your fucking phone-"
"-Faiza, don't swear-"
"-and where is everyone?"
"What," was all Siyanda managed to get out when ze finally got both a breath and a word in edgewise.
Faiza pulled away from zem to swipe at her eyes with one arm; Mom stayed put, clinging to Siyanda's neck like she was drowning and ze was a life preserver.
"Where did you go?" Faiza snapped at zem, voice watery. "What happened to everyone else? Where'd the buses end up?"
"I," Siyanda began. Ze hadn't quite decided whether to lie when the rest of Faiza's words caught up with them. Ze stared at her, waiting to see if any other meaning would reveal itself. When none did, Siyanda looked helplessly at zir dad. He just stood there like a statue, looking faint.
"What are you talking about?" Ze asked, voice small. Zir good mood had evaporated.
"The buses. The senior trip. That you were on," Faiza, apparently the only one of the four of them who could speak properly, ground out. She seemed torn between relief and accusation.
"They didn't come back."
"I wasn't," Siyanda started again, and then all the other words died in zir throat. Obviously ze wasn't on the trip. Because ze was here, getting hugged by zir hysterical mother, and everyone else was... not here. Well after they should have been here.
Ze realized that ze had never taken zir phone off of airplane mode. No messages or news had come through.
"I need to check my phone," Siyanda said, hearing zir own voice as if from far away. Ze extricated zirself from Mom with some difficulty, sliding to the other end of the couch, away from zir family's stares and words and tears. Zir hands were shaking so badly all of a sudden that it took a few tries to unlock the phone once ze even got it out of zir pocket. It started vibrating like crazy as soon as ze tapped the plane icon.
That was a lot of missed calls.
"I have to," Siyanda said, failed to finish the sentence yet again, and got up off the couch on wobbly legs to flee to zir bedroom. Zir hands didn't get any steadier, but ze finally managed to pull up zir contacts and hit call.
"D... Dean?"
((Siyanda Nagi continued in Spirit Phone))
Instead of going straight home, ze turned and went downtown to grab lunch. There was a Chipotle not far from the mall that ze had been thinking about for most of the drive. It was a bit crowded, and most of Siyanda's focus fell to avoiding too much jostling by the other customers as they all weaved their way in and out and through the line. A couple of the workers seemed distracted; Siyanda thought ze might have recognized one of them from school, but not someone from zir grade, so ze couldn't be sure. Ze got zir food to go instead of continuing to face the crowd.
There were no cars in the driveway when ze got home, which wasn't especially out of the ordinary. Faiza might have had a late-season soccer game today that ze had forgotten about, or everyone else might have gone out for lunch, or any other number of things. Siyanda called out anyway when ze opened the front door, bringing in the Chipotle but leaving zir luggage in the car for the moment.
"I'm home!"
No voices answered, but there was a soft patter that preceded the arrival of a striped gray tabby cat in the front hall, closely followed by an orange one. Pumpkin and Pie both started in with a cacophony of reproachful meowing even as they jostled for first place in winding around zir ankles. Siyanda crouched down to rub zir free hand over both fuzzy heads.
"Hello," ze cooed. "Were you lonely? Did you get neglected while I was gone?" They certainly hadn't, considering all the complaints if the bottom of their food bowls were even slightly visible, and Faiza was more than willing to lavish attention on the cats while Siyanda wasn't around. They still acted like they'd been starved both literally and metaphorically whenever Siyanda was gone for more than a day.
After a liberal application of scritches both behind the ears and beneath the chin, Pumpkin and Pie were satisfied enough to break away from Siyanda's reach and implore zem to follow them to the kitchen. Ze did so, refilled the food and water to satisfactory levels, and left zir own food on the table for the moment while ze made a detour through the house and out to the back patio.
Nestled in the far corner of the patio, well out of reach of the cats, was a spacious wooden birdhouse on a stand. The woodwork was really quite nice - in all except zir bitterest, teen-angstiest moments, Siyanda could look at it and love zir dad far more deeply than he probably thought ze did these days for the work he'd put into making it. The paint was more amateurish, layered on too thick in places and thin enough that it had fully worn off in others, evidence of zir unsteady but enthusiastic hand. The white had faded to gray, and the blue trim to a slightly different shade of gray. All in all though, the birdhouse had stood the test of the past couple of years quite well.
When Siyanda stepped up to it and clicked zir tongue softly, a small head poked out of the entry and regarded zem with bright, intelligent eyes.
"Hi there, sweetheart," ze murmured. Ze held up a hand, and Lotte emerged fully from her house and stepped onto it, giving herself a shake and ruffling her feathers before settling down again. Siyanda stroked her head and back with one finger until she nipped at zem. She was temperamental even with zem, but she never let anybody else hold her. Seeing that she'd evidently had her fill of affection, Siyanda carried her to the hanging feeder and lifted her up to the perch, where she gladly stepped up and started eating.
Lotte didn't necessarily need the help; her wing had never healed quite right after colliding with the window, and she hadn't been able to properly fly since, but she could make the distance from the birdhouse and the feeder with little trouble. Siyanda had always fussed over her though, and she was used to it enough to expect zem to ferry her over when ze came out to check on her. Imperious little queen of the backyard.
There was nothing to check on in the birdhouse; it was a bit late in the year for nesting, at least for crows, and Lotte hadn't nested at all so far since she'd been living on the back patio. Siyanda had spotted other crows in the backyard plenty of times, and Lotte interacted with them when they came up to the patio, but evidently none of the males that visited had impressed her yet. Ze still held out hope for baby chicks one spring, but this year wasn't the year.
Lotte crackled at zem when she was done eating, and ze dutifully carried her back to her house. She fluttered up to perch on top of it, received one final pet, and stood watch as ze finally headed back inside.
With all of the important things taken care of, Siyanda washed zir hands, grabbed the Chipotle bag from the kitchen table, and headed into the living room to drop onto the couch and finally eat. The cats wasted little time in joining zem, Pumpkin on the arm of the couch and Pie in Siyanda's lap, hoping to steal any bit of cheese that dropped.
"Vulture," ze said to her. She purred and rubbed her head against zir arm.
And that was how Siyanda's parents and sister found zem, in front of the TV with some Mythbusters rerun playing while ze half paid attention, absently eating chips and salsa and surrounded by cats.
"Hey," ze said, glancing up, and ze only had about half a second to wonder whey the three of them looked so pale before Faiza and their mom both effectively tackled zem, sending the cats fleeing.
"You asshole!" Faiza screeched, and Mom had burst into tears, and then Faiza had also burst into tears, and they were both hugging Siyanda, who just kind of sat frozen, confused and vaguely terrified at why ze was being accosted like this. Dad was saying something too, but it was drowned out by the crying.
"We were just at the school and-"
"-nobody else has heard what happened yet-"
"-not answering your fucking phone-"
"-Faiza, don't swear-"
"-and where is everyone?"
"What," was all Siyanda managed to get out when ze finally got both a breath and a word in edgewise.
Faiza pulled away from zem to swipe at her eyes with one arm; Mom stayed put, clinging to Siyanda's neck like she was drowning and ze was a life preserver.
"Where did you go?" Faiza snapped at zem, voice watery. "What happened to everyone else? Where'd the buses end up?"
"I," Siyanda began. Ze hadn't quite decided whether to lie when the rest of Faiza's words caught up with them. Ze stared at her, waiting to see if any other meaning would reveal itself. When none did, Siyanda looked helplessly at zir dad. He just stood there like a statue, looking faint.
"What are you talking about?" Ze asked, voice small. Zir good mood had evaporated.
"The buses. The senior trip. That you were on," Faiza, apparently the only one of the four of them who could speak properly, ground out. She seemed torn between relief and accusation.
"They didn't come back."
"I wasn't," Siyanda started again, and then all the other words died in zir throat. Obviously ze wasn't on the trip. Because ze was here, getting hugged by zir hysterical mother, and everyone else was... not here. Well after they should have been here.
Ze realized that ze had never taken zir phone off of airplane mode. No messages or news had come through.
"I need to check my phone," Siyanda said, hearing zir own voice as if from far away. Ze extricated zirself from Mom with some difficulty, sliding to the other end of the couch, away from zir family's stares and words and tears. Zir hands were shaking so badly all of a sudden that it took a few tries to unlock the phone once ze even got it out of zir pocket. It started vibrating like crazy as soon as ze tapped the plane icon.
That was a lot of missed calls.
"I have to," Siyanda said, failed to finish the sentence yet again, and got up off the couch on wobbly legs to flee to zir bedroom. Zir hands didn't get any steadier, but ze finally managed to pull up zir contacts and hit call.
"D... Dean?"
((Siyanda Nagi continued in Spirit Phone))
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."