My phone buzzes with a call while Hunter and I are in Grossett’s General Store, grabbing cheese sticks and pizza slices. I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s Tina, in another time zone from us, three hours behind.
“Hey,” I say, answering the call. “How’s tricks on the left coast?”
“Tricks are pretty good,” she says. “Our offer on the house was accepted, so it’s just getting paperwork signed now, in blood most likely.”
“Holy shit.” I turn the phone away from my mouth and say to Hunter, “They got the house.”
“Nice!” Hunter says. “Tell them congrats.”
To Tina, I say, “Hunter says congrats. So it’s official? You’re moving to Maine?”
“Sure looks that way. The beauty of remote jobs in the last stages of end capitalism, right? We don’t even have to take much time off, really. Boone and I are going to take turns driving, so the other one can work on a hotspot in the back seat. No reason to go totally broke on the drive, right?”
“It’s pretty expensive, moving across the country,” I say. “Whatever you can do to cut the costs, I’d say to do it. You hiring someone to move your stuff? Or are you just going to douse it all in kerosene and light a match?”
“Nah,” Tina says. “It’s just an apartment’s worth of junk. Well, plus whatever Rivi has, but you know what her earthly belongings usually amount to.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “Twelve pairs of mismatched socks and some dead succulents, same as always.”
“She’s got ten thousand issues, but at least those don’t weigh anything in the back of the trailer.”
“I’ve helped her move those plenty of times. You think she would have lost some of them by this point.”
“Her issues are like tribbles. They just keep multiplying. I say that because that’s what she’s told me.”
“Too late to change now, I guess,” I say. “So when are you planning on heading this way?”
“Depends on how quick the closing is. We’re saying by the end of February, just to give us wiggle room.”
“That’s insane,” I say. “But it’s a good insane, Tina.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Ask her if there’s anything we can do for them on this end before they come?” Hunter says.
“Hunter asks if there’s anything we can do to help out over here?”
“Not that I can think of,” Tina says. “Keep an eye on the house for us. Make sure it doesn’t fall down before we get there to sign for it.”
“We’ll set up a guard. Keep the raccoons out. It’s right around the corner from where we are now, almost, if you need us to stop and send photos or anything.”
“Just evil eye any four legged vermin as you drive by, and that should be enough. That house has been there for a hundred and twenty-five years, I’m pretty sure it’ll still be standing when we get there.”
“Odds are pretty good,” I agree.
“We’re looking forward to getting out of here, Sebastian. This town is really turning into a garbage place to live. It’s really depressing watching it happen. I keep waiting to be hit by a robot car when I’m crossing the street now.”
“No robot cars here,” I say. “There’s one Cybertruck we see sometimes, but it’s bound to catch fire for no reason before too much longer, so that’s not a worry.”
“Ugh,” Tina says. “I saw they’re calling Teslas ‘Swastikars’ now. Appropriate. Anyway, I’m hopping off the phone. Rivi’s taking me to some new taco joint on 19th Avenue that she’s been dying to go to, which means that not only do I have to pick her up at her place, but that I’ll probably be picking up the tab, too.”
“Eat it up now,” I say. “There’s a severe lack of solid Mexican food here in the extreme northeast. You’re going to have withdrawals, I promise.”
“All life’s about making trades, Sebastian. I’ll trade tacos for less tech bro dystopia. Kiss your wife for me.”
“Will do. Keep us in the loop, lady. Tell Rivi to start paying for her own dinners for a change.”
“Oh, Sebastian,” Tina says. “Such a fantasy world in which you live. Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.”
“Shop as usual, and avoid panic buying,” I reply, an old goodbye I haven’t used with Tina in years and years and years, and had mostly forgotten until just this moment.
I have hopes that pieces of this nightmare year will still sparkle and shine.
I also have hopes that Cybertruck spontaneously combusts and that faeries dance around its burning frame.
Fingers definitely crossed and wishing on a star.