Two days later they met at the marina down by the sea. Jeffrey Phillips continued his story he began alongside the second breakfast pizza on Friday. “I realized that this place was kind of like the Virgin Islands — St. Croix — with its twin cities. Duncan was here now after all. We tried *so* hard to recruit him. I had the Psycho help. King I believe was his last name. ‘Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes,’ he told me King told him. He played national player of the year Mourning to a draw, but that was the other one, the other Duncan.”
“I’m confused,” shouted Charlene the punk over the now crashing waves. Jeffrey realized they should move some place quieter. “Come with me,” he exclaimed. “I want to show you something else.” They were heading for the catacombs.
Afterwards he left Charlene upstairs and came back down to write. He like to wear his facelight while alone here, and also switch on the little lamp on the desk to illuminate his manuscript even further. Bright ideas deserve bright light, he pondered brightly. Like ideas were constantly flashing in his head, giving the impression or at least a hint of the all consuming ever-light, his alchemical goal. Union with Audrey, union with the light, Dr. Nightwing conveniently sucked away into a midnight black hole — or something. The light is flickering more off than on again.
They ate leftover pizza for breakfast. “What’re you going to do today sweetest?” spoke Charlene the punk after finishing the first pie and sitting down with a second. Jeffrie breathed out. What *was* he going to do today? “We could go, I don’t know…” He couldn’t keep up the ruse. “*I’m* going to go walking — out in the woods around the town.” Charlene stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s never going to work between us.” “No,” came his quick response. She knew this was all about Audrey — he couldn’t stop yammering on about her last night. Okay, okay, she’ll accept this. She had a good time with Jeffrie. The sex was great! What a tiger. She voiced her opinion — her *certainty*. “Audrey?” he replied to this. “I guess.” On his part, he thought back to the highly illuminated manuscript and what he had written on it. I suppose one could equate it with a post of a blog type. Like this post here, actually. Yeah, that’s it. He was speaking to Charlene the punk and in the post at once.
“There’s — this doctor she met.”
Jeffrie Phillips was waiting for someone in Teepot, perhaps that cute punk he propositioned yesterday.
Yes, there she is, with the relationship evolved enough to a point where she’s asking him to choose from the lot of them again. But he only has one in his heart: Audrey. The rest are distractions, pretty baubles for him to pick up and admire. She’s with Dr. Nightwing, though. Out on one of their “missions” once more. If only he and Mystic Girl would get together instead — another companion. But right now it was Audrey. He stares up at the stars. Probably on Cygnus X-9 or some far away place like that. He thinks of black holes. He looks at Charlene. He thinks of holes.
“Nothing on the tube tonight, baby. Looks like we’ll have to go upstairs.” But she had no clear vision of where the relationship was going and thus having none of it.
Actually upon checking from behind she does have an angle for viewing. “Okay, let’s go for it,” she agreed after this pause to take another snapshot.