It's Coming: Preview Inside was made by Fin Fang Foom on 4/15/2003 at 6:17:15 PM.
Growing in numbers
Growing in speed
Can’t fight the future
Can’t fight what I see
People, they come together
People, they fall apart
No-one can stop us now
‘cause we are all made of stars
--Moby, “We Are All Made of Stars”
---------------
Even in his sleep, Jake could feel it. The procession of the equinoxes, seasons shifting, hemisphere-sized stripes of light and darkness chasing each other around the globe…being in tune with geological time was just a side-effect of his abilities. But he also felt something else; something that he knew he had to avoid. So, when the morning sun blasted through the window, waking him up, he immediately knew that it was time to leave.
He quickly pushed himself off the bed, landing squarely on his feet. Deep within him, a routine kicked in; one that he hadn’t been forced to use in some time. On normal mornings, he’d walk straight to the shower…but today, he was still clad in blue pajamas that looked like they’d been hanging in a closet for fifty years, and his natural dark blonde hair remained messy. Jake pulled a brown, gold-locked briefcase out from under his bed, flipped it open, and started packing.
The antiquated room he rented from Mrs. Fabbernath had come complete with oak dressers, which he was now emptying. He haphazardly tossed shirts and socks into the briefcase, and they fell into them like they were plunging down a never-ending hole. After throwing the contents of four drawers into it, it still looked empty. He went through the next dresser, and then the closet. Jake shopped exclusively at vintage clothing stores, and usually looked like a refugee from the Rat Pack; but given that he was only in his early twenties, he resembled an anachronism. After snapping the briefcase shut, he picked it up experimentally…light as a feather.
He rushed into the bathroom, and allowed himself a five-minute shower, but skipped shaving--not that he had that much to shave. The only parts of himself he double-checked were his long sideburns. He leapt into dark blue slacks and a white button-down shirt, which he didn’t bother to tuck in. It was covered with thread-thin blue stripes. Only one thing was missing…
On the hatstand (which you didn’t really see, anymore) was his fedora. He flipped it onto his head, and checked himself out in the mirror. Making sure no-one was looking, he tapped a particular rhythm on it, and a black mask clicked down, like a visor in a fighter pilot’s helmet. It covered his eyes and his nose, and had white lenses. He retracted it, and repositioned the fedora at a jaunty angle. He liked having a black hat; it reminded him of where he’d come from.
He could still feel it coming. And if he wanted to keep his shot at the job--the title--he had to stay one step ahead of it. But that was his unofficial career. Officially, he was a professional understudy, on-call for theatres who ran into emergencies. He could play over three dozen parts, and was ready to travel at a moment’s notice. While that had been true, once, it now acted as a most useful cover…though he was still an understudy, in his own way.
Not that his life was much different from the theatre. As he walked into the hall, he could feel the proverbial players getting ready to take their places. Outside, in the town of Starcross, Georgia, it was all getting ready to happen. Just as he could sense which way nature was going to move, he could do the same with situations...but it was a natural thing that was coming. Something inevitable. And his sensory powers told him that it’d be starting tomorrow, at the latest.
As Jake jogged down the stairs, he knew that this was what his life was about: Never being there when it all went down. He had to avoid attention, and get out of places before they got too hot. That was what his unofficial career was about, too.
Mrs. Fabbernath was waiting for him in the kitchen. She’d once been a schoolteacher, and she had an indeterminable accent. As always, she wore a powder-blue apron over one of her many dresses. “Jake! Up so early, you are! Would you like some breakfast?”
“Thanks, but no. I’m sorry, but I got a call about a job late last night, and I really have to go. I might not be back for a few months, so I just packed up all my stuff and sent it ahead to my new address…don’t feel like you have to hold my room for me.”
“What? Really? You have to go just this instant?”
“This production in San Deigo…one of their major supporting actors got food poisoning somehow, and they need me there for opening night, tomorrow.”
“You know the, the lines?”
Jake grinned. “Of course.”
“Of course you do.” She gave him a muffling hug. “Things, they will be boring here without you.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Jake said carefully.
“But before you go--make sure you talk to all of your ladyfriends. When I was a girl, the boys, they would kiss me, but not call me when they had to go off to war, and I wouldn’t know what to think…don’t be a heartbreaker like my Mr. Fabbernath was, in our younger days.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Shortly after that, he left, skateboard in one hand and briefcase in the other.
--------------------
Still wearing his fedora, Jake walked through the auto-sliding glass doors of a surprisingly large grocery store. He’d already seen his girls at the bakery, the hospital, a few of the clothing stores, and Starcross’ lone coffeeshop.
The store’s main entryway led right into the produce section. He took a left, and headed for the photo counter. Out of habit, he was flipping a tarnished fifty cent piece as he went. Jake usually got a few strange looks from people, because of his clothes--but he was confident that they wouldn’t remember him. It was all part of the gimmick.
He’d gotten into this unofficial career partially because of the fact that he was on the run, and partially because of the fact that he just wanted to avoid trouble. The abilities he’d learned helped out with both of those areas.
Back behind the photo counter, someone saw Jake coming. Caitlin--with her short brown hair and ugly red-and-blue grocery store uniform--was momentarily distracted, and her friend who worked in the darkroom noticed. She was just a voice from behind a half-closed door. “Caitlin, is that that one guy you went out with?”
“He’s--well, we have this thing where we hook up if neither of us is seeing anybody else. Except he’s one of these guys that’s either way too lucky for his own good, or he has the most perfect sense of timing in the universe…he knows exactly when to show up, and exactly when to leave…”
Jake arrived, and smiled at her. This area of the store was practically deserted. “Hey, baby…” He leaned over the counter (which they’d once nearly had sex on, in the middle of the night, when hardly anyone else was working) and kissed her.
She reflexively enjoyed it, and then pulled away. “I’m working, one of my bosses could’ve seen…”
“Now, c’mon--have you ever gotten in trouble, when you’re with me?”
“I almost did, a lot of times.”
“But you didn’t, and that’s what counts.”
She rolled her eyes. “You are such a goofball…”
One of her supervisors walked by, and Jake didn’t even try to pretend he was a customer, while Caitlin answered an imaginary film-related question. The supervisor began rearranging some snack items on a shelf. While his back was turned, Jake kissed her again, even longer this time.
He stopped right as the supervisor turned around. Caitlin was bright red.
When the guy was gone, Jake said, “I came to tell you that I’ve gotta be gone for a few months--I’ve got a gig in California.”
“Serious theatre acting isn’t a ‘gig’.”
“Close enough,” he shrugged. “So, do I get a going-away present?”
“You’re lucky I didn’t scream rape just now. And how do you know that I’m not already seeing someone?”
He shifted his footing, and as he did, the light must have caught his eyes, as they glimmered. After a moment, he said, “I just know.”
“…well, you’re right, but shut up.”
“I’ll make you a deal--you give me your lunch break, and I won’t go to the front of the store, jump up on a checkout aisle, and start screaming that I need your body.”
“You don’t even think about--”
He shrugged, and started walking away.
“You get--” She ran around the photo counter and grabbed his sleeve. “You get back here!” she whispered furiously.
“Lunch?”
“Fine! Dammit.”
“No, not lunch, I have to get out of here before then. How about right now?”
She growled at him, and then went back behind the counter. Speaking to the person in the darkroom: “If anybody comes looking for me, I’m using the restroom, and then I have to go find something in the basement.”
Caitlin grabbed him by the wrist and they headed for an “Employees Only” swinging door. “It’s pretty empty back there, we shouldn’t have a problem…there’s a shipment coming through today, but I don’t think we’re that low yet, so they probably won’t unload anything.”
“Uh, you might want to get ready for a lot of shoppers.”
She scoffed. “I don’t see Starcross suddenly becoming a tourist trap.”
“I’m just saying--”
“You wanted to get me back here, away from work--now we’re back here, and you want me to talk about work? I swear, I’ll never understand you…”
He would’ve liked to explain what he sensed was going to happen, but there wasn’t much point. He just wasn’t going to be there. That was simply part of his life, given that his unofficial career involved him training to be The Man Who Wasn’t There…
Continued in the Dancer/Finny Valentine’s Day Special Finale…
Fin Fang Foom
*flies away*