Free Chasing the Moon by A. Lee Martinez Page B

were together, the effect was only increased. That was why theygot together only once every few weeks, only for a few hours, and rarely in the same location. Predictability could go right out the window. Or the door. Or maybe up the chimney. Or screaming into the night while riding a chicken and dragging the mangled corpse of causality behind. Because even metaphors were fair game for their influence.
    The last time the three had gone to the movies, a giant lizard had stepped off the screen and roasted the audience to cinders with its radioactive breath. Within hours the city had been reduced to a smoldering ruin. Reality’s way of fixing itself eventually erased most the damage, but that sort of thing could put an undue strain on the already fragile sanity of most human minds. A concession-stand girl was still in a mental ward, haunted by nightmares of rampaging mutant dinosaurs.
    Calvin had sent her a few apology cards. Unsigned, no return address, with an inspirational quote and sorry about the dreams written in the corner. Eventually he realized this probably wasn’t helping her, so he stopped.
    “We’ll go see something safe,” suggested Benny. “Maybe a chick flick.”
    “I don’t think so.” Swoozie formed a fe. The eyes were misaligned, different colors, and the ears rotated like pinwheels. But the mouth grimaced just fine. “If it doesn’t have ninjas in it, I’m not interested.”
    “And I promised Sharon no more movies,” added Calvin.
    Benny clicked his teeth.
    “What?” asked Calvin. “Do you have a problem with that?”
    “Not at all,” said Benny. “If you’re happy being kept on a short leash, it’s none of my business.”
    “So says the insurance adjustor.”
    “Hey, a worm’s gotta eat.”
    “Do you?” asked Swoozie.
    “Actually, I’m not sure about that,” said Benny. “Never tested it.”
    “Face it, guys,” said Calvin. “We’re neutered. Let’s not fool ourselves.”
    Swoozie drifted off the couch and over to the window. “We don’t have to be. Why don’t we go out and show this world how insignificant it is?”
    “And where would that get us?” asked Calvin.
    “It’ll make us feel better.”
    “For about ten minutes. Then everything will restore itself, and we’ll be reminded that this world isn’t the only thing that’s insignificant.”
    The three ancient entities said nothing for a while. For a timeless being from beyond eternity, Calvin suddenly felt very old.
    They carried on with the evening, tried to have a good time and forget their problems, but the damage was done. They were all trapped in circumstances beyond their control. Calvin figured that must be how humans felt, or would feel if they weren’t saddled with their limited perceptions. They were a remarkably dim-witted species, and he envied that.
    They called it a night early. Benny offered a halfhearted excuse, saying he had to get up early. Swoozie mumbled something about having to eat a dying star.
    She faded to a sparkling point of light. “See you in a few weeks then?”
    “I’ll have to check my calendar,” replied Benny. “Think I might be cocooning.”
    “And there’s this thing I have to do.” Calvin tried to downplay it, but there was guilt in his voice.
    Swoozie rematerialized. “A thing? What kind of thing?”
    “Just… a thing.”
    Benny’s veins darkened. “Spit it out, Cal. What are you keeping from us?”
    “I might be getting out,” said Calvin softly.
    “No king? For real this time?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe. There’s this stellar alignment thingamajig, and it might allow full reintegration. That’s what Greg says anyway.”
    “I thought you said he was a dumbass,” said Benny.
    “He is.” Calvin half-smiled. “But he usually knows what he’s talking about when it comes to this sort of thing.”
    “So what do you think?” asked Swoozie. “Do you think he’s right?”
    “He could be. I have been feeling a little different