An Atheist's Vigil, Part III

Having just served them a few moments ago, he found himself continuing to stare despite himself. There were several kinds of people he ran into, all within the same general mentality, which was: I want food, but don’t want to cook. Yet there are certain kinds of people you do not typically expect in McDonald’s, including people in suits.

Or rather, one person in a suit. The other was in a rather nice, normal T-shirt. However, he was reading a very thick book with print small enough to give the man a headache. He shrugged and dismissed the two.

“So,” said Nick, as a way of getting Dalyn to look up from his burger that he was examining with something just short of interest.

“Yes?”

“Looks like if we want an answer, we’ll just have to wait until you’re tired.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said, glancing around the fast-food joint. A few tables away, some kid was happily unwrapping whatever toy he found.

“Doing anything tonight?” Nick asked, returning to wading through paragraphs in the hope of finding something of meaning.

“Not really, why?” Dalyn took a bite. He heard several of his brain cells scream in rejection.

“Let’s give it a shot.”

“You’re suggesting I force myself into mental fatigue again?”

“Yeah, like before. When you couldn’t write.”

“That was stress too, if you recall.”

“Stress,” Nick murmured, picking up a few fries and stuffing them into his mouth.

“I hate fast food,” said Dalyn.

“Why ’at?”

“It’s ridiculous. People can’t go and cook, they have to come here”—he looked around the room—“and be given something that just barely makes the definition of food.”

Nick swallowed and shrugged. “They want it, they got it. You don’t like it, you don’t have to come here. Oh, lookee here! There’s even more types of synaesthesia. Do you think numbers have personalities?” He continued as if speaking to a toddler: “Is the number three a happy number? Does the number seven look scary? Is one an orphan that lost its parents in a car accident and makes regular visits to nine, the psychiatrist?”

Dalyn’s mouth stretched nearly to the verge of laughing, but stopped. “No, I’m afraid not. On second thought, I’m not quite afraid, I’m glad not.”

“Then there’s this whole bit about hearing colors. Any of that?”

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. “This won’t be much longer, will it?” he asked.

***

A cloud of smoke followed one of the final cars out of the frigid parking lot. The only warmth came from the light flooding from the building—an invitation to enter. In a moment, the light plunged into darkness, joining the rest of the area; only streetlights and the irregular pattern of headlights on the street gave it a flicker of light. Outside of this sphere of darkness, light continued to shine from stores, houses, lines of cars—and in the darkness, a watch steadily ticked on.

“Well, it’s eleven,” said Nick cheerfully; Dalyn stopped attempting to stare at his watch. He groaned internally—the more tired you were supposed to get, the more cheerful Nick got. They sat on the curb just outside of the bookstore, and a door opened.

“Ah, Alyssa! Closing today, I forgot. Go well?” Nick asked the woman walking out.

“Very,” she said. “Thanks for the help,” she added sarcastically.

“Well, sorry, I’m busy here.”

“You’re sitting in front of a bookstore you work in. Sitting. Least you could have done was stop in—”

“Yes, well, sorry, see you tomorrow, toodle-oo, go. Go! Away!” he added when she showed no signs of moving.

Alyssa folded her arms. “Also, I seem to have found a cat.”

“That’s nice. Adopting?”

“In the store.”

“Oh, that’s just Tao.”

“Dow? You—” She shook her head, and succumbed to the idiocy of the situation by sitting down next to Nick. “You’ve gone and—you’re—you have a cat.”

Nick nodded. “Mhmm.”

“In our store.”

He opened his mouth with a soft clicking sound, thought for a moment, and then answered, “Yeah. Basically.”

“Is the cat cared for?” Dalyn broke in.

“Who’s this?” Alyssa asked.

“Ah, terribly sorry. I’m Dalyn. I’m a”—he hesitated a moment—“an acquaintance of Nicholas, here.”

“Good to meet you. Ah, terribly sorry you’ve run into this man,” she said, indicating Nick.

“Thanks!” Nick exclaimed. “Well, answer the nice man’s question, Alyssa.”

“Someone thought the cat was ridiculously cute,” she said, “and bought the thing food after her shift was over. And a few other things. So it’s now sleeping quite comfortably in its own little bed with its own little food bowl and its own little toy mouse. In our own, little, employees only room.”

“I’m so glad you bonded with Tao,” said Nick.

“Not me!” Alyssa stood and held up her palms. “I’m not getting anywhere near the little hairball if I can help it.”

“See ya later!” Nick called to her as she walked away.

“Happy person, is she?” Dalyn asked.

“Usually… no. Doesn’t mean she’s not entertaining. So, how you feeling?” he asked, trying to get back on track.

“Tired. How much longer? I need to get up for church tomorrow.”

Dalyn felt a small change come over Nick at this comment.

“Church?” Nick asked, with a hallow laugh. “You’re one of those go-every-Sunday types, aren’t you?”

“Well yes, I think it’s important to keep in touch with the spiritual.”

“Of course, of course. But did you ever consider”—yes, his voice was definitely changing now, going faster—“that there isn’t anything spiritual?”

“No, I believe what I want to believe. That’s all,” Dalyn said softly yet firmly.

“No, no, no, no, I’m not saying there isn’t,” Nick said hurriedly. “I’m just saying… you ever wonder if there isn’t?”

“Of course not. Well, it never crossed my mind, actually.”

“Really? Well maybe you should let it. It’s quite amazing. For an instant, you realize that maybe, just possibly maybe, all this worshiping you do is totally meaningless and your hopes for eternal life in the sky or whatever are totally destroyed.”

“Well, I don’t believe that. You believe what you want to. I don’t care if you’re atheist, or Catholic, or anything! My religion is my religion.”

Nick smiled inside. It was too late. Now there was a small doubt, whether he wanted to admit it or not, plaguing Dalyn’s mind. It was there, he could sense it. And that was all he needed to upset Dalyn’s delicate balance of emotion.

“That’s odd,” he heard him say.

“Hmm?”

“Turn towards me,” Dalyn said quietly. He did, and Dalyn shouted triumphantly: “There! There it is! I can see a little bit of color around you! I’m probably insane! But that’s okay!” He laughed.

“What is it?” Nick asked.

“Indigo again! It’s… I… that’s it! Yes! I can see it! I can see it!”

And suddenly a new dimension, one of color, burst open for Dalyn.