peckenpaugh | THE UPPER LEVELS

up into the balconies

you climb The breathing boughs of that nightmare tree crowd into the upper balconies of the ruined auditorium. You have to duck and bend to get by them in places, sometimes through spaces that seem to grow smaller as you press through. These branches are warm to the touch, some of them uncomfortably so, pulsing with something that isn't quite life.

You've climbed these stairs more than once in your time here; to take your place after your sorting, to watch new students find their House, or perhaps just for an assembly. This building always seemed so sturdy, so safe. It was a place to go for shows, for celebrations, and hell, to just get out of class. Now, the floorboards creek precariously, split and splintering where vines have crept through. Benches are broken, overturned and tossed aside to make room for the auditorium's new king: the malignant maple. Up here, the glowing blue seeds hanging from branches are close enough to pluck. Those that have ripened litter the floor and railings, filling the balconies with an eerie blue twinkle.

The air is muggy, clogged by falling ash. It stinks of coal and sulfer. But you keep moving, anyway. Keep opening portals and pushing on. Just a little bit higher, and then maybe you'll be able to plunge into the depths.

and you fight By now there's a plan, and with it, a slowly growing brigade of people, of beings, of bugs, who are gathering to push back against inevitability.

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"Wait, who is Lir in love with?" comes Armani's voice from the darkness. That's what he's gained from all of this.

“Noooooo no no no please doooon’t,” Lir begs with the lightbulb as glass litters the floor and the open tote. But lightbulbs listen about as well as cats, and this one is already busted. “Dad never even told me where the new bulbs are.”

Sirloin meeps in the darkness, but Lir ignores her. He sinks to the floor, arms wrapped around that flannel overcoat and buried in a scent unknown to the watchers, but painfully familiar to Lir.

It’s hard to say how long he sits there in the dark closet. Time goes a little funny; it seems to slip all around Lir without his participation until he hears someone whistling, and there’s a knock on the door.

He doesn’t answer. The door creaks open anyway, sending a sliver of light into the room.

“Hell yeah, cleaning in the light is fuckin’ overrated.” Lir glances up. Wybie Youngblood stands on the other side of the door, leaning heavily on a metal crutch. There’s a crooked grin on his face that eases Lir’s twisted stomach just that much. “Yer mama’s callin’ for ya. I can finish this shit up for y’all no prob.”

“No!” Lir blurts out, surprising even himself. “No, no, I can—I want to finish that.” Wybie reaches a hand out to help Lir to his feet, and Lir nearly yanks him down to the ground by accident. “I don’t know where the new lightbulbs are though.”

“I gotcha, bud,” Wybie answers, and Sirloin the cat dives through the crack in the door to wander under his crutch. Like a fuckin’ cat. “But it’s gonna be a blacklight, and I got some bitchin’ ass posters to donate to that cause.” Lir doesn’t say anything. He just smiles as he exits, stumbling over Sirloin along the way.

The door hangs open, leading the kids straight back to the school. Just don’t step on the cat.

THE UPPER LEVELS

MEMORY: Flicker

MEMORY: Flicker