Page 5 of You Weren't Meant to Be Human
Crane:Manager thinks I look like shit but I’m fine lmao. Also we got a new trainee last week. Can’t leave her alone for too long so. Can’t come down. Sorry
Birdie:that sucks :(are you sure youre okay? we can do a video call instead if you want
Aspen:We’ll miss you, but remember the drive isn’t that bad if Birdie or I can get the day off. Anything you need at all, just let us know.
The idea of one of them coming up here makes his stomach turn.
Crane:I know
Aspen:Also I finished the release and yeah, it’s bad. States’ rights all the way, unless it’s abortion in which case fuck us, right?
Birdie:ngl I miss the year where we actually had like three successful assassinations or whatever. bring that energy back!!! where is it!!!!
Crane stops responding, but Aspen and Birdie keep talking. They know it’s tough for him. He turns the phone on vibrate so he can feel it buzz in his pocket, a reminder that he’s being included in some way.
Maybe not visiting is for the best if he looks as bad as Tammy says. No need to freak them out worse.
Though it can’t bethatbad. He leans around the cigarette case to check his reflection in the dark mirror of the window, pulls down an eyelid, and wiggles the toothpick between his teeth. Besides the bruises Levi left a few days ago, finishing that unfinished businessfrom the manager’s office with a belt around Crane’s neck, there’s only the usual eyebags and unbrushed hair. That, and his most recent ink: a centipede above the left elbow. He’s covered from his ankles to the back of his neck, a sketchbook for whatever artist is doing shitty flash work for cheap.
Birdie thought she’d seen through it all the first time she’d met him. The tattoos, the dozen piercings scattered across his ears and face, it was all clear to her. “It’s gender-affirming, obviously,” she’d said like she’d cracked the code. “I mean, look at you.”
Crane hadn’t had the heart to correct her and say that if he hadn’t been able to set himself on fire, he’d needed to changesomehow.
Either way. It’s good to see yourself through someone else’s eyes. He leans closer to the reflection and tries to step into another pair of shoes, inspect himself as if he was a stranger. It’s not easy. A total lack of self-image, he’s heard, is an autism thing. Or a trauma thing, Aspen would point out.
But he’s not traumatized. A walking collection of bad decisions, sure, and a masochist with way too many messy kinks, absolutely.Traumatized?That word is for veterans and rape victims, not him.
After all, the hive saved him.
His phone buzzes one more time. Right. Might as well check out Aspen’s official review of the country’s current sociopolitical situation.
It’s not them.
Jess:Hi, is this Crane? Sorry, I should’ve told you Tammy gave me your number
Jess:I think I killed my boyfriend
Jess:I don’t know what to do
As soon as Crane barges into the office and shows Tammy the message chain, she’s shoving car keys into his hand. “Lord above, did shewalkthere? Go get her before she does something stupid.Git!” So now he’s pulling eighty-five on an empty stretch of Corridor H past Washville, ignoring the upset whine of his achy old Camry and turning up the radio until high notes of some Top 40 song sting his eardrums.
Levi should be doing this. Crane is queasy and pissed about it. This is supposed to beLevi’sjob, and the son of a bitch is inMcDowell.
Jess:Past the lumberyard, once you cross the one-lane bridge. You know where that is? Has a chest freezer on the porch, Chevy in the driveway, light’s on
Jess:Jesus Christ
Jess:I’m gonna be sick
Jess:Oh shit I think he’s moving
The lumberyard isn’t technically in Washville, it’s closer to Crane and Levi’s apartment in the greater Wash County unincorporated area, but it’s still the Washville lumberyard because there aren’t any other landmarks for miles. Mike used to work there before the swarm found him. According to the stories, so many people ended up with nails in their hand that the injury was given the shorthandcrucifixion, as in,Did you hear that John got crucified last week?
Jess:Yeah he’s still breathing oh my god
Crane doesn’t like it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do it. Levi made sure of that.
Five miles, five minutes later, and Crane is in front of the house—this one-story gray thing plunked on the side of a dirt road—throwing the Camry into park and grabbing his go bag from the front seat.
