1.1 - Beau Geste Effect

Nova often couldn’t sleep at night. For whatever reason, it didn’t feel safe, and she was rarely tired.

So she jogged. It didn’t get truly dark until the wee hours of the morning, about 2:00 or 3:00 am.  By then, porch lights were off and streets were empty. She could enjoy the night, the stars, the wispy clouds, the moon. She explored the brand new world she had supposedly lived in for months.

Nova’s favorite discovery was a small outdoor theater about half a mile from her home. It was always empty, even during the day. But someone was keeping it up, meticulously setting the stage and maintaining the grounds.

The best part was on the second floor of the stage. A strange arrangement of chaises, flanking a blue skinned goddess.

Despite her fragmented memories, Nova was aware she’s not human. She often wondered how she knew that–how she knew simlish, how she remembered the names of regions and cities, how she knew, deep down, that her blue skin and inky black eyes denoted a heritage far beyond the stars.

“You’re one in a million,” she told the statue.

Because of her odd hours and seemingly minimal need for rest, cooking often fell on Nova. Most mornings, she opted for waffles: all she had to do was move them from freezer to oven to table.

The hardest part for her was remembering to take it out of the oven. “I put it in five minutes ago,” Nova glanced at the clock, “or at least I looked at the clock five minutes ago. It takes me about two minutes to take the trash out. I stared outside the window first…” she counted minutes on her fingers.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Sirena said dryly as she sat at the kitchen table.

“Good morning!” Nova plopped down next to her friend, “how’d you sleep?”

Sirena raised an eyebrow. “I slept. Did you?”

“Well,” Nova bit her lip, “it’s kinda hard to sleep…”

“You need to rest! How can you expect to improve if you never let yourself rest?”

“I don’t feel like I need to. I feel fine,” Nova said, “I mean, other than the touch of amnes-y I have.”

“Amnes-ia, you goose,” Sirena laughed.

“That’s what I said,” Nova replied blankly.

Sirena sniffed at the air. “Wait–do you smell that? Is it–smoke?”

“Oh crud,” Nova leaped up, “Crud, crud, crud.” She whipped around just in time to see the oven explode into flames. “Oh…nuts.”

Sirena sighed and fumbled in her pocket. “Really, Nova. Every. Single. Week.” She pulled a wand out and hummed softly. A blast of ice shot from the wand to the base of the fire, extinguishing it nearly instantly.

Nova’s eyes widened in excitement. “Oh my Maker–Oh my Maker! I remember now, you’re a witch!”

“You’re not exactly human yourself,” Sirena laughed, “why do you think we’re friends?”

Nova looked at her hands. “No, I guess I’m not.”

“Well,” Sirena clapped her hands together, “I have to get ready for work.”

Something sparked in Nova’s brain. “At the tarot place,” she said quickly, “I remember now. You work at the fortune telling place. Kismet, right?”

“That’s really good, Nova!”

Her memory flourished, and a scene returned to her: Three cards, spread in front of her on a glass table. Swords on two of them. “A tower,” she looked up Sirena, catching her eyes, “there was a tower on one of the cards.”

Sirena’s eyes faltered for a moment. “Good,” she repeated, “you remember the last time I read for you. That’s really good.” She cleared her throat and fixed a smile on her face. “Let’s go out after work. I’ll be home around seven.”

“Yeah,” Nova nodded, “sounds great. One thing, real quick.”

“What’s that?”

“Can we go here?” Nova held up her phone, showing her home screen, “where we went this night?”

Sirena’s nose twitched. “Of course.”

Sirena breezed out the door that morning with barely a word.

Left to her own devices, Nova hit the gym. Sirena had mentioned she taught yoga in her past life. But nothing about the quaint yoga room felt right. No, it was the weight machines that called to her.

Though she may have forgotten how to use them as well.

The gym was mostly empty–reasonable for midday on a Monday. But one person caught her eye: a stocky woman with broad shoulders and a shock of red hair that curved upwards.

“Hi,” Nova cornered the woman on the stairs after their sets

The woman’s nostrils flared.

“I noticed you just killing it today–great job, seriously. I’m new to Lucky Palms. I was wondering how long you have lived–”

“Fuck off,” the woman growled.

“Gotcha,” Nova grinned idiotically, “have a great day.” She spun on her heel and beelined for the door.

***

A full moon hung over Lucky Palms, illuminating the desert. The air was still and hot, and Diamondbacks Club was nearly empty.

“Was it this dead last time?” Nova scrunched her eyebrows.

Sirena laughed. “No, but it wasn’t a Monday.”

“And why are there so many,” Nova lowered her voice, “preggos here?” It was true–most of the other women in the bar were visibly pregnant.

Sirena shrugged. “Why would I know? Let’s just get drinks, okay?”

Rolling her eyes, Nova flagged down the bartender.

“Hey, you’re back! What can I get you, sweetheart?”

Nova furrowed her eyebrows. “Back? What do you mean?”

The bartender’s resulting laugh was loud and raspy. “I guess I should’ve cut you off earlier.”

Of course, she thought, the night of the picture. “Maybe,” Nova faked a smile, “so maybe something a little less boozy this time?”

“You got it,” he grinned as he opened the mini fridge under the bar and began lining juice bottles on the bar.

“That night was such a blur,” she said, “remind me–when was it?”

“Maybe two…three weeks ago. It was a Friday–live music on Fridays, and there was a band here. You left with some guy,” the bartender snapped his fingers, “yeah. Your friend was pretty mad when she got back from the bathroom.”

Nova glanced at Sirena. She was busy chatting with one of the pregnant patrons. “Yeah, she was. Can’t believe I forgot about that.” She knew not to push it any farther, especially with Sirena nearby. With caution, she shifted the conversation to small talk. 

“What took so long?” Sirena whined when Nova returned with the drinks, “I was waiting for you to bail me out of talking to that cow.”

“Cow?” 

Sirena rolled her eyes towards one of the pregnant women. “She comes to Kismet constantly. Wants a love potion every time. I can only make so many, and frankly–they aren’t going to work for her.”

“Oh,” Nova scrunched her nose, “that seems a little…mean.”

Sirena snatched one of the drinks from Nova’s hands. “Because it was meant to be mean. Work a day in retail and you’ll know what I mean.”

“Well,” Nova lifted her cup, “cheers.”

Sirena’s face twisted as she sipped her drink. “This is strong.”

“Is it?” Nova replied, “I think it’s pretty–”

“I wanna talk to that guy–to the bartender,” Sirena announced as she stomped back to the bar. 

Nova’s heart dropped. “Let’s not bother him,” she protested.

“No–I, I have a question for him.”

“Oh no,” Nova followed her friend to the bar.

“Hey,” Sirena slumped onto a stool, “I have a philosophical question for you.”

“Oh,” the bartender’s smile grew wide, “that’s…fun.”

“How do you know you aren’t just a head in a jar,” Sirena slurred, “like, how do we know what’s real.”

“An age old question,” the bartender agreed, “but how about this: you want some water?”

Sirena began to protest. “No, I want answers. Like, is time infinite? If so, why do we make time instead of take time?”

“Let’s get you some water.”

“And another drink for me,” Nova added, “this one was perfect.”

“I gotcha,” he grinned.

“I’m feeling steady now,” Sirena said, “let’s dance.”

On the one hand, the empty club was a disappointment–no one to notice, no one to take notice. On the other hand, it was nice to have the dance floor to oneself.

And even nicer to commandeer the empty DJ booth.

“Whoo!” Nova proclaimed, indicating her appreciation for Sirena’s sick beats.

Even empty, the dance floor became too hot. Thus they sought refuge outside on the balcony. A midnight breeze rustled through the trees, providing much needed relief.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve blown bubbles,” Sirena laughed.

“I wouldn’t know,” Nova giggled in return.

“Oh, baby girl,” Sirena’s face softened to a sad smile, “it won’t always be like this. Amnesia improves over time, you know. It’s not permanent.”

Nova shrugged. “I’m not worried about it. You can’t really feel like you’re missing anything when you don’t know what you’re missing, you know?”

Sirena’s grin grew wide. “I don’t.”

“So do I always get mint flavor?”

“No,” Sirena replied, “it’s always something different with you. That’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Nova blew a bubble out of her nose. “Huh?”

Sirena cackled. “My point exactly.”

With each huff, Nova’s voice grew slower and dreamier. “Why Lucky Palms? It’s nice, but why here?”

“You always complained about the number of people in Bridgeport. And the cars…” Sirena trailed off.

“Bridgeport,” Nova inhaled, “that doesn’t sound right.”

Sirena murmured intelligibly than made shy eye contact with Nova. “Let’s try to talk about happy things tonight, okay? Maybe we can set a different time to talk about…this.”

Nova nodded.

“I love how quickly they float up,” Sirena remarked.

Nova looked up. “Yeah. They’re pretty.”

Sirena insisted they sing karaoke before leaving for the night. “You love karaoke,” she begged. Nova resisted at first, but as she stepped into the limelight, it felt right.

The track began with synthesizers and a drum machine. A trill of piano lifted upward, and Sirena began to hum into the microphone.

Nova  didn’t even need to look at the screen. The lyrics bubbled up from within, and she bellowed them out:

Where have all the good men gone

And where are all the gods?

Where's the streetwise Hercules

To fight the rising odds?

Her stomach contracted with each line, and her belting echoed through the bar. She found if she put more movement into each line, her voice carried even further. She easily caught the attention of the only other sim in the bar.

Up where the mountains meet the heavens above

Out where the lightning splits the sea

I could swear there is someone, somewhere watching me

Through the wind and the chill and the rain

And the storm and the flood

I can feel his approach like a fire in my blood

They sang for so long they closed the bar. “Come back soon,” the bartender winked at Nova as they stumbled out the door.

“That was fun,” Nova laughed as she linked arms with Sirena. Their heels clicked against the concrete, creating a percussive echo on the empty street.

“So fun. Like old times,” Sirena agreed. “We need to do this again soon. And your voice! I knew you could belt, but wow.”

“I was surprised too,” Nova admitted.

“You’ve always been a performer. I remember when–”

A distant howl cut through the night. Sirena stiffened and clutched Nova’s arm tighter. “Oh my maker.”

“It’s fine,” Nova patted her arm. “Just keep walking. Our ride’s only two minutes away.”

“Coyotes. I always knew I’d be eaten by coyotes,” Sirena whined. “This is why I said we should’ve moved to Sunlit Tides! Coyotes can’t swim.”Another howl punctuated her lament.

“No,” Nova shook her head, “coyotes howl one after another. And they change their howls so it sounds like there’s more of them than there are.”

Sirena tilted her head, her mouth agape. “How do you–”

“I don’t know,” Nova interrupted, “but I remember it. And I can tell you, that’s only one howl. Listen to how far apart it is, and it’s the same tone.” 

Sirena shuddered as the howling continued, then grabbed Nova’s hand. “Creepy. Let’s go home.”

“Yeah,” Nova looked up at the full moon, “let’s go home.”

***

Author’s Note: I unironically love Bonnie Tyler, but this might be the worst music video of all time. The glow stick whips, the unhinged dancing, the blue filter….it’s truly vile.

Her voice is amazing though.