The Crystal

Corey picked up his keys and wallet from the glazed tray as he stepped out into the cold. It had been 40 weeks since he was forced to move into this incomplete apartment. Into this broken life. Empty rooms, an unmade bed, half eaten cans of food which came equipped with their own families of flies, and stale bottles were the only company which greeted our new friend day to day. He found the less time he could spend inside the better. What began as nightly drives to distract his mind were now necessary just to prevent from gagging on the apartment’s air.

An understanding that garbage needed to go out was not lost on Corey, but the interest to treat his quarters as anything more than a dumpster felt like too far of a step towards permanence that he was not ready for. He had fallen into the cycle of convincing himself that any step towards bettering his living situation was a surrender to never reaching reconciliation. Of course he knew that if he let his life fall completely apart then he would never be able to return home. With each day, hour, breath the fear of losing the future he once dreamed of gripped onto his mind tighter and tighter. Whenever it crept into his mind, Corey was sure he could feel the brick apartment slipping beneath the Earth’s surface.

At first, Corey had simply thought he was imagining the distance he felt was growing between them. When he was alone with Diana it still felt like their first night together, but he had begun to notice that she would spend less time at home. She had extended her hours at work, and would respond to messages less frequently, if at all, when they were apart. Corey was sure it was only in his head for a few weeks, confident that any day she would bounce back into the same energy he had fallen in love with. Six months they had lived together, and a year and a half of dating before that. What had become the happiest two years of his life, had become ten months of isolated misery.

Climbing into his Camry, our new friend sat and looked at the broken brick complex which surrounded him. His breath was heavy in the frigid air. Dim, often flickering, orange lights hung over the cracked red apartments, and its gravel lot. He knew there were other people who lived here too, but he’d never met any of them. Not the mother and her son who lived across the hall, or the couple across the lot selling who knows what out of their back window. He did not greet the group of kids who used to ride their bikes around the complex, and he was silent to the gang who stole those same bikes for themselves. He was sure however of one truth in regards to Manchester apartments complex 6. This slab of silence was humanity’s island for misfit toys. A compactor for the rejected. In fact Corey had begun to wish that Hell was real. Certainly being able to die and burn would be better than having to continue on this broken life.

He reached over into the glove compartment and his hand met the cold glass. The perfume that wafted out of the bottle always made him squint as he raised the glass to his dry lips. A small cough followed his second sip off the spiraled end of the bottle neck as he turned the key. The roar of the engine cut the sound of the glass shattering as it was tossed out the driver’s side window.

As he drove he realized that the sky was empty. No clouds, no stars, no moon, no blinking lights of planes riding the breeze above the rooftops. Corey couldn’t decide if he had even seen a star, or a plane, or even the moon since he had moved into his brick prison. The Manchester apartment complex was split into 6 separate buildings, with construction being undertaken for a seventh. The buildings were each rather unique in their designs. Complex one was quite large, holding 153 apartments itself, ordered amongst 12 floors. Two was significantly smaller with only 4 floors, but it sat atop the parking garage used by the first three buildings, and came with covered walkways that joined them each together. Building three was the upgraded version of its older cousins. It was the sort of luxury that Corey imagined he and Diana would live in one day.

Complex 6, the cracked, defaced, falling down red brick residence which sees no stars was actually the fourth building developed on the property. It was meant to first be simply a storage facility, and due to this origin sat off by itself to the south of the much larger buildings. The buildings marked as four, five, and the soon to be seven each sat on the north end of the original three which blocked their horizon from having to be scarred by the deflated home of God’s bastards.

Tonight was like any other for Corey. He had one mission each night, to distract himself. Each second he could think of anything but Diana would have been a win. For 40 weeks straight he had lost the battle in each second, in each thought. For the first few days they did not talk. He wanted to give her the space. After a week, he had returned to his home with the excuse that he needed some notes which were boxed off in the closet. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. He was confident that in a few days or weeks everything would be back to normal.

Instead it turned into Jada, Diana’s best friend, standing in his doorway explaining he needed to come back tomorrow when Diana was at work and she didn’t want him in the house. Jada had a rather round face, a double chin which had certainly thinned since the last time Corey had seen her, and dark brown hair. She had pale blue eyes which could cut right through anybody. Although she was several inches shorter than Diana, who was herself several inches shorter than Corey, Jada had a fierce spirit to her. Now he and Jada had never really gotten along, but they were not unpleasant to each other. At that point he felt as if this wasn’t Diana’s idea. Rather someone was pushing them to separate. Corey did not feel as if Jada would be bold enough to actually push Diana to leave him still. Like any couple they had their issues before but they had always handled it themselves instead of resorting to school yard tropes of using a messenger.

Most nights now Corey would just drive beneath the security of the empty night sky. He wasn’t sure why he drove, but it felt right. He would laugh to himself that it was in hopes someone may bump him off the road. Even if the accident didn’t kill him, a stay in the hospital would be better than returning to the bricks. On most nights he would first pick up a paper wrapped bottle and a pack of cigarettes. Second, he would drink the paper wrapped bottle and smoke the paper wrapped leaves. Lastly, he would drive by the home he and Diana had shared before returning to his trash filled hole.

Most nights the lights were already out before he could drive by to check on things. Tonight though he did not get a bottle, there was no smoke escaping from his windows, and he would not be driving by the place he longed to be. Tonight he was going to the bar. He had the urge to be around others for the first time in months and rather than fight it decided to lean in. Pulling into the parking lot the neon sign flashed blue and pink and read The Crystal.

Walking in from the darkness into the dimly lit dive was not much of an adjustment for the eyes. The floor was covered with old wads of chewing tobacco, peanut shells, melting ice cubes, and with each step your shoes would stick so tightly to the floor the worry of losing the sole and tread off of your shoes was not an unwarranted paranoia. As Corey sat atop of a stool he was unprepared for the sharp wobble of the seat and crashed to the glue like floor. He felt confident without looking that a piece of his jacket was likely anchored to the bar floor.

As he looked around he saw how empty the bar was. There were two older couples alone in a booth in the corner, he could only tell that one of the men had a goatee, but he could hear the cut of each woman’s distinct smoke stained voices sing across the room. As Corey tried to catch what he could coming from the booth he quickly tried to block the women’s voices out again as he began to hear about each woman’s favorite blowjob tips. He wanted to drink to forget about women for a little while, not be reminded of what his recent stay in purgatory was keeping from him.

Turning his attention to the bar in front of him he waved over to the bartender. Ordered his favorite whiskey with three ice cubes, no more and no less, and asked for a basket of peanuts. Diana used to call this place “Stal” instead of Crystal. It was the only local bar that would play country music, her favorite, and old rock, Corey’s favorite. It had peanuts, which Corey liked, and specialty frozen margaritas in blue or pink, which Diana liked. As he sipped away on the glass of courage Corey could not help but turn his attention to the entrance through the mirror behind the bar. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Diana like this or not. What he did know is it was a quarter to midnight, which meant Jada would be coming in for her closing shift in fifteen minutes. It was time he got some answers.

The night he and Diana had gotten together was a lot like this one. It had been in this bar, the Sunday before Thanksgiving, nearly three years ago. They had met at a party a few weeks before because of mutual friends, but he was sure she wasn’t interested. She would only tell him about how all the cigarettes he smoked would kill him. He just laughed and said a heart attack young was more likely. That Sunday before Thanksgiving though he had been with friends at home playing a board game while drinking. Just as Corey was working to expand his claim on the leading position in the game he got a text from Diana telling him to come meet her and her friends at the bar.

Seated in the corner booth Corey met a collection of Diana’s friends. He had shown up after them and found her sitting on the edge waving him over as he trekked across the glue like floor. He was wearing a blue rain jacket, she was wearing a white crew neck sweatshirt that she would let hang over her wrists to hide her hands. She slid over to make room for him and already had a whiskey and coke waiting for him. Corey said he’d grab the next round and smiled at her as he sat next to her. She bowed her head slightly as she smiled back and introduced him to the group.

After a few drinks, a few baskets of peanuts, and having her friend from high school, Kyle, introduce himself four times without remembering a single previous introduction Diana placed her hand on Corey’s thigh. His only reaction was to take a sip of his drink. She leaned into him before turning her face to see him. As they looked at each other Corey forgot the table was full of people. He forgot the world had anybody else in it. He felt warm, he felt wanted. Right there in front of all her friends she grabbed Corey’s face and kissed him. The only thing he remembers the rest of the night at the bar was kissing Diana, and buying drinks. He remembers laughing, but can’t remember a single word he said.

What he remembers clearly though was getting back to his house that night. They stayed up and talked until past sunrise. Nothing but kissing, and talking. No sex. She said one thing, he would say another. Before he knew what was happening he wanted to spend the rest of his life in that conversation.

Right on time Jada came through the door. Her head was in her bag as she came in and walked by memory behind the bar. Corey waited patiently distracting himself with the action of deshelling peanuts, anticipating any moment she would notice him. After getting settled in for her shift Jada walked over to Corey. She stopped in front of him, placed both hands on the bar and pointed her hip to the left just staring at him.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me,” Corey started.

“You know I don’t hate you right?” Jada cut in. “Diana doesn’t hate you either.”

“Well, do you know why she won’t talk to me? Why did she kick me out?”

“Well she gave me a ride to work tonight and she’s gonna be in any second so ask her yourself.” As Jada finished talking she rolled her eyes and walked away. Just as her eyes rolled, Corey’s stomach made a roll of its own leaping into his throat. He had been dreaming, while awake and sleeping, for this moment to just talk again. He was beginning to suspect the couples in the corner booth could hear his heart pounding.

“Hi,” a voice said from behind him with a subdued tone. Corey looked over his right shoulder and breathed out, his nerves were spiking. He turned all the way around on his stool and stared paralyzed into her soft brown eyes. He really did want to speak, he wanted to smile, he wanted to apologize, for what exactly he wasn’t sure of, but all he could do was fumble out a groan that Diana was kind enough to take as an invitation to sit down. He was positive she could hear his heart pounding.

“Are you okay? You’re not usually quiet unless you’re angry.” Diana said, brushing hair out of her face.

“Yea, just caught a little off guard I guess. How have you been?” He asked.

“Alright. You need a haircut, you know?” she said back. If only she knew he lived surrounded by trash in Hell, a haircut would be the least of the worries.

“Growing it out a little bit. Look, I’m not entirely sure what I did but I think I must have done something to have pushed yo-.” Before Corey could finish Diana put her hand on his thigh and looked into his eyes as she said,

“Stop. I care about you, but right now I need to be able to have freedom in my life. I have missed you though.”

“I’ve missed you too.”

“Hey Jada, can I get a vodka soda, and can you get Corey another one on me?” Diana said before turning back to Corey and moved her hand on top of his. They both cracked a smile at the same time. As they drank, they laughed. Just as they had all those months before things felt right, they felt like home. “You’re probably wondering about why I wanted us to break up?”

“If you haven’t guessed yet, I did come here to ask Jada for some help getting that information.” Corey responded.

“I care about you, but you’re not the same as you were when we met. You don’t take work as seriously, you don’t take care of yourself how you did before. If we were to have a family together I need to know that you’re not falling apart on me,” Diana said.

“I guess part of that is I felt you starting to put some distance into the relationship. It made me stop worrying about anything else. I was trying to hold onto you,” he choked out very seriously. “Diana, what if we got it right the first time. What if we are supposed to be together. I think we did get it right. I don’t want to just walk away and lose that.” Corey could feel his stomach swell again into his throat.

“The issue isn’t that I don’t care. The issue is that I do, but you need to fix things first.”

“How about this then? Meet me here next week, same time. We’ll just come here and talk,” Corey offered. Diana started to laugh slightly and agreed. Corey closed his tab, stood up, and kissed Diana on the cheek before leaving the bar.

As he left the bar the air tasted cleaner, he felt this spark of energy. He knew he needed to fix himself, he needed to clean up his brick prison. He hopped in his car and began driving home. He couldn’t stop smiling the entire drive home. When he got to the gravel lot, equipped with broken glass, he looked up into the heavens. The sky that had been so empty to him was full of stars, and a large full moon.

For the next week all Corey did was smile in fact. He smiled as he took out his trash, he smiled as he got his hair cut, he even smiled as he began unpacking his things finally after 10 months of living in the apartment. He even smiled as he was driving back to The Crystal the following Sunday. He smiled as he drove past the car wrapped around the telephone poll. He smiled as he sat down at the bar. He didn’t stop smiling until his phone buzzed. It was Jada calling him to explain that Diana wasn’t going to make it to the bar that night. Jada was calling to explain that Diana had been in the car that he passed on the road while smiling. Jada was calling to explain that Corey smiled as the woman he loved died. He went home, and cried. He felt as if the world around him was sinking deeper, and deeper under the earth. As if his cracked, and deflated red brick purgatory had become a true Hell. A prison he would never leave again.