Chapter 2: Ascending and Descending

May 24th 20XX

Mom’s birthday was a few weeks ago. May 2nd I think? I got her a cake and this hair product that’s supposed to keep dreads healthy or something. She’s had these super long dreadlocks as long as I’ve been alive and I thought it’d be a nice gift for her, something a little thoughtful. Therapy is going well, mostly talking right now. The doc wants to start on this type of therapy where I stare at a specific spot and I just talk about stuff that makes me depressed, it’s supposed to put me into the same place I was when it first happened? Besides that I felt like I’ve been going on and on about this one ex for weeks and honestly at this point I’m just kinda numb to it. Only a month and a half in and I already feel sort of good enough to stop going. Not gonna stop anytime soon though, insurance is covering it and I like my therapist. I feel weird talking about my ex though, I don’t want to get with her or really anyone but I got a lot of trauma from the whole situation. Trauma? Agh that sounds too serious. I have a lot of hurt from the whole relationship.

I’m driving the bus in the late afternoon, it’s spring so it’s unbelievably hot and all the windows are down. I told the kids earlier that if they’re gonna get off that I’d appreciate it if they closed the windows if they’re the last kid in their seat. From what I can tell half the empty seats still have open windows, not that I’m going to complain about it since the fresh air feels nice and the small fan I’ve got can only do so much. Every kid on the bus at this point is quiet, usually the first 10 or 15 minutes are ungodly raucous and annoying and after half the kids get culled by being sent back to their parents it settles into what I’d consider a pretty stressfree period of time. In this quiet the roar of the etchings of yesterday’s training overtakes me before settling. Temporary scars over real ones that I hide underneath a hoodie. I can’t be looking like a delinquent around the kids; the hoodie makes the heat ten times worse but I’m not about to get fired for looking beat up.

I hadn’t been going to the old Fart as often since before I had gotten this job and I still wanted to have enough time to play my video games and do my other things. The time training lapsed and he really let me have it yesterday, almost couldn’t even hold my own. “Don’t think just cause they’re not bothering you that they’re not watching and planning something” He’s wrong though. He’s wrong about a lot of things, “I’m not wrong about how much you look like him, pisses me off” that was the last thing he said to me before I headed home and passed out. Bothered me the whole drive home, who cares if I look like him? He’s my dad, it’s supposed to be natural? That’s not true though.

It still feels unreal to me that I’ve been doing this job for two months. I’ve gotten to know some of the kids a bit, they’re nice enough and there’s a few 8th graders on here that are weirdly close to me in age. I mean, not really? But I can still remember what it was like to be 13 or 12 and stuff. Not that my childhood was normal or “usual” or anything but, I can sort of relate to them. The really little kids are the ones that are really talkative and there’s this one little black kid named Demetrius (cool name) who always sits behind my seat and when it gets quiet enough he’ll ask me questions, hell, when it’s loud enough he’ll ask me questions like, “what’s the moon like?” I don’t know, but I’ve heard it’s cold and light, like walking on a bouncy castle. “How many schools are here?” “How many students do you drive?” “Do you like your job?” “What’s the weather gonna be like today?”.

In the county? I think 5. Probably more.

You mean pick and drop off? Uh, like 100-200, well actually less than that. We can fit 3 kids to a seat and there are 40 seats all together so in total if I really needed to? 120 kids. Usually it’ll be around 70-90. Some kids are picked up in the morning and not in the afternoon or the opposite.

Yes.

Well it’s spring and it rained all last month so I’m guessing it’s just going to be hot. Better get yourself ready for the summer kid, it’s only gonna get hotter.

Today he asked me an oddball question. “Mr.Arthur, do you think the world is going to end?”

Almost immediately I have this gut reaction and thought that pops into my head and every single time he asks me a question I gotta filter it and today’s unfiltered thought was pretty simple. Kid at some point, the world is gonna end for everyone. That is not what I said because I like being employed.

I tell Demetrius “Kid, if it gets any hotter I’d say sure. But otherwise it’ll happen or it won’t and there ain’t any reason to be worried about it, just focus on the things that make you happy.” Every time he asks me anything I gotta look up into this huge rear-view mirror where I can see pretty much everything on the bus and I can usually see the top of his head, but today he’s sitting back and he’s just sorta staring off into the distance, through to front window to see the smallish town we live in. I hope he at least heard me a little bit.

Cleaning up after them is a hassle usually but I’m so used to it that I don’t mind it anymore. I just put on my headphones and listen to a podcast and clean. It usually takes half an hour and after I’m done I got paperwork to fill out. Two forms to fill out for morning and afternoon and in the time between I usually find a quiet place and nap for a little bit. Since it’s spring I actually haven’t been able to do that as much as I’d like since they need someone to take kids on field trips and such. It’s made the last few weeks be busy, but I welcome it since otherwise I’d just be watching that show or playing through a game on my Switch in the breakroom. Sometimes I go into the break room and have conversations with the teachers and other people working around the campus. It’s a surprisingly young faculty, I think the principal is in their 40s though I’m still the youngest at 20ish. People here are youthful and doing youthful things and one of the front office ladies with a big fat diamond ring on her ring will usually be leading the conversation, I try and not add anything since that’s where I fuck up with social situations.

Yesterday she asked if anybody would be interested in coming to her pool party that she’s running in a few weeks. There was a quiet murmur and before I knew it a whole party was being planned around me, instantly I felt awkward and out of place and just stayed quiet while everyone around me had these happy bright smiles talking about how fun this was going to be. Something taps me on the shoulder, and I turn around to see what brought me out of this fugue state. It’s the cute kindergarten teacher with black hair, bangs and who’s thicker than oatmeal and hotter than the weather this time of year. I don’t remember her name even though I have a crush on her and also know that I don’t need a woman in my life.

“Are you going to go to Rebecca’s pool party?” She asks with a smile. I don’t have time to think.

“Well I wasn’t invited so.”

“She’s inviting all the staff you should come!”

“Well I don’t want to intrude.”

“Don’t make yourself a stranger, look-” she grabs my hand and drags me over to the woman I now know as Rebecca. “Hey Rebecca, Arthur was unsure if it was okay to come to the pool party.” I side glance at my crush and wonder why in the world she’s doing this. Rebecca responds before I can even fully gather my thoughts.

“Sure, here’s the facebook invite or whatever. I don’t know what you’re so worried about Arthur, it’s just going to be a little friendly get together to celebrate the end of the school year,” she stops for a second and turns to the woman who is still holding onto my hand, “So Toran, how do you know Arthur?”

“I knew him from High School, I think he was a year or two below me.” I have no idea who this Toran is. Maybe it’s the bangs? But I don’t remember any absolutely stacked upper class women who I was friends with, let alone knew. Hell I didn’t even really have any friends in High School. I must’ve had a confused look on my face cause all Toran did was stare at me quizzically before asking “What you don’t remember me?”

“Uh no, I’m sorry, high school was a while ago and it’s all a blur y’know? I didn’t even finish it out after sophomore year.”

“Oh is that what happened? It was a big thing, I was a senior and there was this whole drama about a kid who got into the hospital from a car crash?” My heart stops at the mention and all the uncertainty ends and I recompose myself. I pull my hand from hers.

“Yeah, it was some travesty alright.”

“Well you made it out in one piece, was there anyone else hurt?”

“No, just me. Anyways, I gotta go, gotta go take the kids home soon. Thank you Rebecca for the invite.” I pushed down all these emergent negative feelings and gave Toran a peace sign as I walked away. I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to deal with this type of social whatever, I’ve never even really been to a party before. Not for like five years, and that wasn’t particularly positive. Fuck that old german fuck William. He and his stupid ass parties.

A few weeks back it was my mom’s birthday. Since I don’t talk or see the rest of my family aside from her and my sister I couldn’t go to the celebration that we normally have at a “William’s” house a ways away. My mom told me it was a raucous affair, filled with booze and good times. I remember going to those parties at that friend’s house. I always felt like I stuck out more so than I ever did at home, which was saying a lot. It’s strange, I was always alone during those parties but I always felt eyes on me. Their eyes specifically, with all their crazy colors and disgusting thoughts behind them, those god fucken Ascended or is Neo-humans or meta-humans? Neither name make any sort of sense for them, they were born that way, with their fucked up genetics that make parent and child look so different, super strength and one or two random powers. Also they have weird colored eyes, if you think of it, they have it. I’d just find a quiet corner to try and be quiet in, I didn’t want to be noticed but still, they stared. Waiting for a chance to harass or bother the only regular person in a family of Neo-humans. I remembered the right name! It’s Neo-Humans, their PR division decided Neo-Humans worked best since it was latin (something familiar to some) and still had the word humans on it. They were going to go with Neo-men but they weren’t sure if the feminists would be pissy at it, and as I said, the word human gives some reassurance that these sociopathic, immortal, rich, super powered creatures are actually some form of man. To me though, they are only and completely, and totally, monsters. Except for my Mom and sometimes sister.

I got my mom a pair of headphones that she wanted; something pod? They’re wireless and I know she’ll lose them and eventually find em a million times but I know she’s been wanting them, even if she could’ve bought them at any time with all the money she and he has. My Ma Hor-Aha and my sister Elaine came over on one of my days off, a Saturday or Sunday, I can’t remember and I made us all dinner (some steaks, a nice salad and some red tomato rice)and we talked about life. We were quite the strange trio if anyone came upon us. My ma’s a complete nubian princess, her skin’s as dark as obsidian with dreads to match, sis looks like any upper middle-class white girl around and well, me? I just look like me. I don’t like talking about it. Most of the conversation and night was good. As always Ma was a bit disappointed about the way I’ve been going the past year and she only mentioned the dropping out of school thing once (thankfully), and Elaine just sat around silently judging me “If you need any financial help, I’ll take care of you.” That was the last thing she said before her and Ma left. Of course she could take care of me financially, he gave her a million dollar loan and a team of people to make sure she could only be a success. Not that I want his help with anything. Not that I can even get his help with anything. Y’know? Fuck him, that huge piece of shit. Fuck. Goddamnit. I’m annoyed now.

Whatever, it’s almost the end of the school year, wait, shit, it really is close to the end of the school year isn’t it? I got maybe two or three weeks left? I’m not sure what I’m doing over the summer. I have no business with the summer, the heat and me have a truce and the cold and I have a long winded romance that takes intermittent breaks depending on the season and the level of warmth I’m feeling at a given moment. Well, really the summer’s more like a girl that I can’t stop loving who might be there, if I could only get a chance to talk to her. If only. I don’t want to do that though, that’s what my therapist tells me and it’s what I told myself last night and maybe this morning. God I want to throw up.

Therapy as I mentioned has been going well. I’ve been picking up healthier and healthier habits and the intrusive thoughts don’t rule me as much. Not as much as they used to. The nightmares still come through, memories or visions of the summer. What could’ve been and what I am now, a confused bus driver hoping that he finds someone to fill that hole. (Not that I want anyone to fill that role). It’d be nice if that Bicepmaster guy came from the heavens and blessed me with a workout buddy and roommate who’d force healthier habits on me. I'll tell the doc about the nightmares and see what she thinks (I won’t tell her about bicepmaster). My friend Roger who was in the service told me it’s common to have those types of dreams, even given the fact I got kicked out. Not that I want to talk about it. Not that I even want to think about it. There’s plenty of other real problems I should focus and work on.

Oh no. I’m going to be unemployed in two weeks.

Or maybe three? I hope it’s four because I need that extra paycheck for….

For what?

I guess I don’t know. I don’t pay rent or taxes, the property I’m on is in my mom’s name. I guess video games and if I ever feel like going out to eat, which recently hasn’t been as often. I found that I actually enjoy cooking and looking up recipes, it’s something my therapist advised I should do. So groceries, I need money for groceries and video games. Also the internet to check up on the forums I visit and the shows I watch (I don’t pay for streaming services, they’re a scam and so is cable) so that’s another cost I have to keep in mind. All together I spend maybe 300 or 400 a month on living expenses. Fuck, I forgot about my teacher, that old fart wants a few hundred a month to train, even if he doesn’t need it. Damn bastard ascended. How am I supposed to afford training with all this with no paychecks? How am I supposed to afford my therapist?

What am I even training for? Is it worth the paycheck? I don’t know anymore, it’s preparation for something. Something.

Bicepmasterx7 is dead, at least, his online presence is dead. All he said was sure and OMW, and he hasn’t posted since the day he got completely bombarded by hate from a bunch of anonymous bodybuilders and possibly unathletic nerds wanting to rag on the jocks and meatheads they were either jealous of, or bullied by in high school. Not that I ever met a jock or a bodybuilder in my life who wasn’t nice and just wanting to spread the gospel of getting swole. That’s not the point, the point is that the master is gone. Sucky thing is we don’t even know what happened, and worst of all is we don’t even know what they looked like. Most we could surmise was they had sweet ass biceps and went regularly to the gym. I’m sure there’s someone out there that can inspect what pics they did post and come up with some idea of who they were and where they lived but as of now, nobody online seems to care enough to do something like that. I guess I should start actually going to the gym. Maybe. Get sweet biceps like Bicepmasterx7 and continue the legacy? Sounds expensive, and the old fart has told me ad nauseum about how he hates burly men who can barely run a mile and keep going. (not that I can run a mile and be peachy keen afterwards but whatever) He thinks that packing on muscle is dumb and the best thing you can be is a weapon, at least in regards to your physique. Efficiency and all that, personally, I’ve been more caught up in just not ending up as a roundish blob, so weapon talk or thinking has not been on my mind. Except for that sword, it’s still in the fridge and will probably stay there for the next while. The ancient fart wants me to get serious with training but that requires a certainness I just haven’t had. Who knows, maybe the summer will change things.

Turns out the show I’ve been watching is actually an adaptation of some weirdo sad book a dude wrote a few years ago. He wrote the book hoping that the book would eventually be adapted so that he could write the script. The author wrote the book to do the show. Problem is the author was as sad as the main character; Guy and him had a litany of financial and emotional problems. As far as anyone can tell the author just fell off the face of the earth but right before he did, he sold the options and scripts for all the episodes of the show he wanted to make. Along with that was complete creative control of the direction of the show. The show got picked up by some Cable network to start with, but after the author disappeared and they saw the scripts but couldn’t legally adapt the way they wanted to, it went into limbo til they found his second cousin’s sister or something, and from there some direction of the future show could be established. That was three-ish years ago, it went through two or four cable stations before this streaming site picked it up finally. Second cousin’s sister turned out to be really good friends with the author and didn’t want to have any sort of butchery of the vision of show, so she brought out a bunch of the Author’s writer buddies, early draft notes and original original scripts and worked with the streaming site to bring the show to fruition. So far it’s been going pretty well and they’re doing this weird thing where they release one hour long episode a month. Nobody quite knows how many episodes of the show there are but the quality just keeps getting better and better with each release. It’s kinda crazy but something as weird as a show about a suicidal drug dealer wanting to make enough money for his poor dementia riddled parents pulled at the right heart strings and cultural zeitgeist enough to be a genuine success. The author is still missing though, but in light of the success of the show there’s been a global manhunt going on. It’s almost more interesting than what happened on this month’s episode, which is saying a lot.

There’s rumors that he was spotted in Israel, Bangladesh, New Mexico, and most recently the pyramids of Egypt. Or the pyramids of Mexico. One of the two or both, I can’t really remember but saying it it seems….right? It’s just vague sightings but they’re all pretty similar, a bald, tall pale dude wearing all black and sunglasses day or night. A conspiracy out there is that he’s the clone of George Lucas trying to get away with releasing strange art house books and shows (even though he hasn’t released anything since his disappearance). It’s spurned on by these random publications of these stories that sort of match the Author’s writing style and previous work, as well as how paced out plots but it’s also rather different. The streaming company is buying the rights to every single one, even some that are obviously copycats. It’s a strange time we live in. Strangest of all is that no one is accusing him of being an Ascended? We have super powered humans and no one for a single second even thinks to blame them or think he might be one. It’s a very strange time. Makes training with the old fart seem like a good idea. Then again, the Author could just be having a tough time and wanting to see the world, or maybe he’s an Ascended that’s doing something nefarious. I’ll talk to the old fart about it tomorrow, he is one of those monsters after all. Also I don’t call them Neo-Humans because they’re not new and they’re definitely not human, maybe I’ll call em descended actually. Since they’re straight from hell, except for the old Fart, maybe.

I stretch my entire body out before jumping into my bed. It’s been a long, hot day and it’s going to be a long hot night. Soreness and comfort spreads as the abyss of my bed consumes me and all my troubles.