Self Made (Andersson Dexter Book 1) by M. Darusha Wehm

Author:M. Darusha Wehm [Wehm, M. Darusha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780973746747
Publisher: in potentia press
Published: 2013-12-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

The shine had worn off the day, somehow. Dex hadn’t thought that putting the beat down on a couple of public assholes would destroy his good feeling and it probably wasn’t actually that which had done it. It was the assholes themselves and what they had done to that poor woman that made Dex feel like shit. He never would understand what it was about some people that made them think that a good way of dealing with people who were different from them was to assault them.

Back in his apartment, Dex changed out of his now very dirty uniform and poured a drink. His messenger was bleeping away and he saw that it was Stella Bish responding to his question from earlier in the day. Dex went back and forth in his mind, finally shutting off the notification and going offline. He grabbed the bottle from the counter and gave it a long hard look. After a few moments, he shook his head, then drained his drink and refilled the glass. He took the glass and bottle to his chair and pulled up an old video.

The drinking started before they had even finished packing Maksym’s stuff in the crate. Dex started watching at the point when he’d opened the bottle. He saw his younger self pour a couple of large glasses and top them off with splashes of real ginger beer. It was an expensive luxury he’d indulged in as a celebration. He saw his hand tremble slightly as it recapped the bottle.

He handed a glass to Maks, who took it with a wide smile. Dex could see three tiny wrinkles around each eye when he smiled. He wondered now if Maks ever had them removed. as he watched them work together packing the crate with Maksym’s stuff. “I guess I won’t need much of this stuff,” Maks said, putting his few clothes into the crate. “They give you a uniform and they’re actually not that bad looking.” Dex hadn’t answered. Maks sat on his bed, looking up at Dex, who was holding a jacket. “It will be fine, Andy,” he said, “you’ll see. The work is interesting enough and they’ll give you your own apartment. No more waiting for the lav, no more labeling your food bricks, no more scrounging for funds.”

“I guess,” Dex had mumbled, turning away from Maks. Now, in the viewer, he saw the wall of Maksym’s room, the wall that had divided their small apartment. His own bed had been on the other side of the thin metal partition. Maks had painted a mural on his side, an abstract of reds and yellows, all circles and triangles. “You should take this,” Dex had said, pointing at the divider. “Put it in your new place.”

“Yeah,” Maks agreed. “It would look nice.” Dex saw his own chest heave on the video as he had breathed in deep. He saw himself turn and put the jacket softly in the crate. He focussed on Maks, raised his glass and said, “Let’s put on some tunes.

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