Nuxaz
The letter will be in the next post!
If there was one thing Zachary Calloway hated to do, it was disappoint someone. He'd already let Denebola down in his accidental-and-sudden upgrade; the boy had thoroughly blamed the Guardian Cat Itsuki for this. The cat happened upon him one night and claimed the senshi as his own, upgrading the boy on the spot without much pomp and circumstance. The utter disappointment in Denebola's voice and eyes when she'd seen him next was enough to cut straight to his heart, and he'd felt heavy guilt ever since.
Well, he wasn't about to miss her birthday! No sir!
The day before, Zach had put his feet to the pavement in search of a slew of small gifts to drop off for Fiona. He didn't make much in the way of money, cashiering in a dead-end position in the local grocery store since he'd graduated high school. It certainly wasn't anywhere near where he'd imagined he'd be. Without a clear-cut goal in mind for his post-secondary education, Zach found himself floundering in adulthood. Anxo had provided some help, trying to get the boy in better shape through swimming and offering a few words of advice for college. It didn't help Zach decide on a major, however. And furthermore, how on Earth would be pay for it all? His father made too much money to qualify for underprivileged scholarships, and being the stereotypical white male certainly didn't help matters much.
Focus, Zach. This isn't about you, it's about Pern. Focus!
His budget was modest at best though his dedication was relentless, trolling every mall and small shop his beater car could manage. While he wouldn't claim to know Fiona on an intimate, best friend sort of level, he knew a few things about her from their chats. She loved dragonflies, and biology, and had a knack for tennis. Zach knew nothing about tennis, other than you whacked a ball with a racket back and forth, and the scoring made no sense at all. Tennis face memes were great, however. She wore makeup sometimes, but Zach knew very little about this, too. Without a female friend to ask, he found himself at a loss. Makeup was so personal, too...
He'd found himself at the mall, a few dragonfly figurines and a single plush toy in a coral-colored giftbag. Bright, grassy green tissue paper poked out from the top like leaves. He'd tried to match her fuku as best he could. Maybe Fiona would see that in the color choices, maybe not. They didn't have that bright yellow-green she wore, so he tried to match her shoes. She might think it was more Halloween, looking like a pumpkin. Or a carrot.
Zach didn't have much money left in the budget but he knew something special should be the crown jewel of this gift package. Surely the bookstore would have something in his price range and Fiona's desired subject matter.
Truthfully, Zach felt somewhat uneasy by the bookstore. So much of his childhood was spent buried in books with his sister, sitting silently in a bedroom, back-to-back. The younger of the two loved tales of adventure, dragons and sorcery and knights who saved fair maidens from the clutches of evil. The elder enjoyed more philosophical inquiries. Even now, Christa didn't seem to take her nose out of a book and Zach?
Zach hadn't dipped into one in ages.
With a sigh, the boy trodded up to the help desk, chatting up the older man who peeked out at him through thick glasses. Biology. She likes biology. he said, hoping that would enough for the employee to point him in the right direction. Zach gave an apologetic smile, not knowing the first thing about what made a biology book particularly good. "It's a gift, uh... I don't have much money. I mean, hardcover would be pretty great if it's under $20. Do you have anything like that?"
Luckily, they did, and within his price range, too.
SIDDHARTHA MUKHERJEE was the author's name emblazoned across the cover. Zach had been pointed this book in particular, its author a member of the Nobel prize short-list... not that this made any difference to Zach. The Gene: An Intimate History. Sounds fancy.
Well, this wasn't about animals exactly, but the employee behind the counter said the book had rave reviews, and the hardcover edition was under his budget. Number One New York Times Bestseller, huh?
The boy sighed, staring at the wall of books whose spines displayed everything from the history of cats to complex biological studies of snail secretions. Yuck. There weren't any books he could immediately see that hosted dragonflies as its primary subject. Some of them seemed to touch on insects, but... would that be enough?
...jesus, not at $45 ho damn he ain't made of money, cuz. Just a lowly cashier tryin'a make'a buck, sheesh.
With a sigh, he hoped Fiona wouldn't be disappointed in a discount book. Zach kept telling himself that he at least knew one of her favored subjects, so that had to count for something. Right? Manhandling the hardcover book from its resting place on the shelf, the boy had hoisted his prize over to the counter and paid for the acquisition. Another gift bag? Sure, it wouldn't fit into the one he had. Did they have yellow? She liked yellow. ....sort of. She wore yellow. ...was it yellow? Or a really light yellow-ish green-y color?
Dammit.
Yellow gift bag and light blue tissue paper acquired, the young female sales clerk with bushy pink hair seemed to take pity on him. It's for my big sister. he lied, trying to justify his desperate stumbling through the subtle differences between grass green and forest green. Green was green! When did colors get to be so complicated?!
He needed a nap. Or a beer. Or both.
Zach didn't stop moving until he had pushed through the afternoon shopping crowds and found himself outside, finally able to breathe. At six in the evening, the mall was crowded with kids free on summer vacation and young folks shopping after a long day of work. The evening breeze felt fantastic on his skin, and a flat bench was waiting for him just a few feet away. Plopping down unceremoniously, Zach pulled his well-loved cellular from his pocket and began a text to Fiona.
ey pern, its me
a lil dragonfly told me its yer birthday tomorrow and i gotcha somethin
when's a good time 4 u? hmu!
razz
- z
He was never the more articulate of texters. To him, texting was supposed to be short and sweet, just enough to get the point across. No novels. He left that for the letter he'd written to Fiona, tucked safely away in an envelope, wedged between the cover and opening pages of the book he'd just purchased.
