A Pact For Life (2 page)

Nick felt that he should explain himself as well. “I'm sorry too, Cale. I was distracted by this interesting Wiki article about Tetraneutrons. Simply put, they exist without any reason whatsoever, and somehow are able to stay together when physics dictates they should be thrown into chaos. Their existence disobeys the laws of physics!”

Typical of what often happens when people are in one constant state, everything becomes related to their mood. With a beaten chuckle at the comparison of Tetraneutrons and his life, Cale said, “Maybe they are staying together because they aren't sure what else to do?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, it's nothing.” Cale's phone began to ring. Seeing the appearance of an unfamiliar number, he knew it belonged to the blond girl from the bar. He ignored it and continued to speak. “You guys shouldn't feel bad about missing the fight. Actually, I feel a lot better now than I did earlier tonight.”

Nick asked, “What was wrong earlier?”

“It's hard to describe,” Cale responded.

“An art thing?” Brian guessed.

“Yeah,” Cale wasn't sure how well he could explain his problem to his friends. “I guess the straightest way to say this is I've run out of ideas for sculptures. The inspiration isn't there anymore.”

Brian questioned, “How hard is it to find inspiration? I mean, just take some drugs, walk around in the woods, and voila, there's your inspiration.”

Cale responded, “It doesn't work like that. I need God's help with this.”

Sculpting, or any creative pursuit for that matter, relies a lot on faith. It's a belief that whatever your chosen pursuit is, an idea will come along that will feel right, powerful, and true. Creativity can't be manufactured in a lab and placed in convenient pill form. It's otherworldly. For creators of any stripe, there is always faith that a great idea will come, whether through your own hard work, or in Cale's case, something divine.

A quick note on Cale's God: Like most educated people who like to think about God, Cale saw the natural fallacies with organized religion. The Gods in most religions were too aimed toward blind obedience and keeping the population in line through fire and brimstone. They were all powerful yet demanded constant sacrifices and praise. Cale's God, however, was nothing more than a silent friend who used to provide ideas for sculptures.

Those sculptures, by the way, had made Cale one of the most popular sculptors in the modern era, but that's not as prestigious as it sounds. A famous artist in today's age is about two notches below 'celebrity blogger' on the worldwide notoriety scale.

Cale's answer about needing God's help threw Brian into a slurred rant. “Man, that talk just pisses me off. Whatever happened to not knowing the mind of God? Whatever happened to simply following His word? Why is it that God never calls anyone to live humbly and meekly and help those around them? How come he never tells people to eschew earthly riches and glory and pride and move to Africa to help poor starving people?

“No, now everybody is fucking Noah! Everybody has a direct line on exactly what He wants for them, and surprise! It's wealth, fame, and power!

"Maybe I'll go sit in some bar and suddenly claim that God wants something much more from me. I'll feel God calling to me, '
Brian
' he'll say,
'Brian, I want you to look around. Do you see that girl on the other side of the room? She's lost, Brian, just like you. Go to her, Brian. Go to her and together you shall find your way. Go to her Brian, and fuck her brains out. And in the glory of that joining, you two shall find your salvation.'
”

Cale and Nick stopped walking, stared at Brian, and then busted out laughing.

“You know I'm right!” Brian yelled.

Nick patted him on the back and said, “No more drugs for you tonight. Let's go home. You wanna ride, Cale?”

“That’s alright. I gotta go to Diana’s. She got promoted today, and I promised her we would celebrate.” Cale pulled out the pack of cigarettes, but this time picked one filled with tobacco. He lit it and spoke while it was still in his mouth. “Besides, it's like a fifteen minute walk and I can use the fresh air.”

Surprised, Nick said, “I had no idea you guys were back together. Tell her congrats for me.”

“We aren't back together, but I promised her when we first started dating that I would make the night she became a partner a memorable one.”

With a plan to meet the next day for coffee, the three men parted ways. By his third step, Cale had his headphones on in need for a walking soundtrack, and did the only other thing he could at that moment; obey the laws of physics.

THE LONELY RED HEAD

Downtown, Diana Young sat in the corner of a crowded party that was being held in her honor. She was the youngest person to ever make partner at JCPG, Denver's most prestigious law firm. Yeah, it was a serious promotion.

In a tight black dress that went perfectly with her long, dark red hair, Diana would've looked beautiful in that corner if she only smiled. She was incapable of a smile though. That was simply asking way too much, given her mood.

Earlier in the night, before she found her way into the corner, she was full of energy as congratulations poured in from clients she only knew professionally, colleagues she only knew professionally, and interns she didn't even know existed. Eventually the praise turned into actual conversation, which was easy enough as the clients talked about the work they needed from Diana, colleagues talked about the work that needed Diana's expertise, and interns reverted to their invisible nature and simply listened. However, an hour or so after the first glass of alcohol arrived, Diana found herself slowly being driven away from the conversations. It was brought upon by her clients talking about their families, her colleagues talking about their families, and the interns talking about their hook-ups.

The more Diana drank, the less she knew what to talk about. If she couldn't talk about work, she was lost. That initial enthusiasm dulled with each glass of wine, and thus, she ended up in the corner.

As she debated the earliest time she could leave her own party without seeming rude to her clients, a confident looking intern sat down next to her bringing with him an invisible cloud that smelled of black licorice and aerosol cologne. With unfocused eyes and an infantile smile, he used the pet name every moderately attractive redhead hears at least once in their lives. ”Looking hot tonight, Red. Want a drink?”

At that moment, Diana wondered if she was a good enough lawyer that she could get herself acquitted of throwing him out the window. Sadly, she realized the devastating consequences second degree murder would inflict on her quickly growing career, and thus, a new plan was needed. While thinking about possible actions, she asked, “Do you work here?”

“Yeah babe. Just started. My name's Jamie.”

This was all she needed to hear as it meant she could do what came natural - unrelenting work demands communicated in a sharp tongue. “Well Jamie, I don't want a drink, but here is something I would like from you.” Jamie nodded and smiled wide in expectation. “I have this client, Pinwheel Construction, and what I need from you is to index every capital lease contract for them along with amortization schedules and a cash flow projection for the next five years, and I need it by the time I get in Monday morning.”

For the first time, the intern's eyes focused on who he was hitting on, and he immediately realized his mistake. This was no ordinary woman, but a fabled monster he heard about from every intern, paralegal, and assistant. Its name was, 'Frightana Young' and it’s broken more lives than anything found in Lochness, the Himalayas, and Transylvania combined.

Smart enough not to make the situation any worse, the drunk intern stood up and stuttered, “I...I'm sorry, ma'am. What time do you usually get in?”

“If I don't have them by 6:30 AM, then don't bother coming in ever again.”

She was bluffing, but it felt good to give her first official order as a partner. Truth be told, that work wasn't urgent, but she wanted to give her new powers a test run.

Jenny Ferri, Diana's assistant and thus, by occupational circumstance
²
, closest friend, came over and whispered, “Now that you have all this authority, how about raising the drinking age for firm parties to twenty-five?”

“I was thinking about making a new rule; all staff are barred from firm functions until they actually pass the bar.“ Diana felt embarrassed the moment she said the second 'bar' because Jenny originally wanted to become a lawyer. Attempting to salvage any sort of humility, she added, “I mean... that rule applies to interns only.”

“It's alright,” Jenny said as Diana's embarrassment was apparent from her face matching her hair color.

With her closest friend next to her, Diana hoped Jenny could provide a set of ears for the problem that gradually had become apparent throughout the night.

Now you have to understand, Diana Young was not the type of person to just talk about her problems with other people. In order for her to open up, it had to be important. Or else she had to be drunk. In this case, it was both.

“Jenny, do you think my life is too consumed with work?”

Before answering, Jenny checked Diana's wine glass. It was almost empty. Hesitantly, Jenny brushed her short, black hair behind her ears, and said, “Oh... umm, well you certainly seem happy when you're working. Isn't that a good thing?”

No words were needed for an answer, only a foul look. Jenny was right in that Diana was happiest when she worked, but that wasn't something Diana wanted to admit. Especially in her current state.

But brave Jenny decided to press the issue. “Diana, what's the matter?”

Diana's earlier inadequacy came to a breaking point, and she couldn't hold back any longer. “I've spent tonight listening to people talk about their families, while all I could talk about was work. It's like this switch I can't turn off no matter how hard I try. I always thought at this point in my life, I'd have a great job, which I do, but I also thought there would be more. An intelligent, successful husband, and like two or three kids. But every night when I go home, the only thing that greets me when I walk through the door is more work.”

Jenny had little to say after this pouring out of Diana's heart. The only solution she could think of, and this was mighty risky by the way, was to ask about Diana's only substantial relationship. “What about Cale? You guys were together for what, like four years? Do you still see him?”

Diana lowered her head and laughed. The mention of Cale made her remember she had forbid him from attending any of her firm's functions after one particular Cale-like disaster.

So the story was this. After hearing how cruel a senior partner was toward Diana, Cale said out loud amidst a group including the man and his wife, “Do you guys realize that rapists have ruined our ability to hitchhike in this country? It really sucks for people like us trying to get a ride because every girl thinks you have a hidden agenda.” To make matters even worse, Cale brought the partner in for a hug and whispered, “We've all been there. Haven't we, my brother,” and winked at Diana across the room. She was furious at the time, even going so far as to break up with him that night. But looking back on it now, it brought a smile to her face.

Returning back to the conversation with Jenny, Diana said matter-of-factly. “I haven't seen Cale in over two months. I told him I never wanted to see him again, and I guess he finally listened.”

“That was a good call. He really knew how to push your buttons,” Jenny said while debating internally whether or not to tell Diana she invited Cale to the party.

“I mean, we had some fun times together, and he was always good for a laugh, but Cale was never fully interested in me. In the choice between Cale the artist and us the couple, Cale the artist always won.”

“I'm sorry,” Jenny responded. She was unsure what else to say, but knew it was time for Diana to leave. The only thing worse than being depressed at your own party is being joyous at your own funeral.

The goodbyes were quick and to the point, which was the trait of Diana's that everyone expected, but more importantly, valued. With a hug and a few drunken superlatives such as, “Best assistant I have ever had,” Diana left Jenny.

Alone in a cab, she rode through Denver's downtown toward her condo where the closest thing to love was a half completed pre-nup. It wasn't a long ride back, but it still provided plenty of time for Diana to think.

She thought about the people she went to high school, college, and even law school with and how she had reached a higher point in her career than almost all of them would ever achieve. Along with this thought also came a delving into their personal lives. A vast majority of them would've been married with kids, and most likely they were happy and fulfilled without needing to work sixty hours a week to accomplish such happiness.

She remember all the guys she broke up with because they took too much of her precious time needed for studying or working. There hadn't been a lot of guys in Diana's past, but there were one or two that could've amounted to something more than just a couple months’ worth of dating.