Children of Water: Book 2

By Triece Bartlett

Book 2 of the "Children of..." Trilogy finds us back on Planet Earth. Most of the humans are striving to heal and rebuild and find ways to live on the Earth without harming the planet, but many are tired of living without the things created from harming the planet. Excuses are made for having a limited amount of planetary resources used for emergency situations, but once the door is open, the limits continue to have exceptions. There are some in power who will do anything to get what they want. Running Tree has disappeared, and some still believe he is alive and is the only one that can help. Will the children's children find the truth in time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781365406133

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

TOMORROW'S CHILD

He lay in his empty room on the single bed with unclean sheets. The darkness and smog of the dirtiest city of the planet were locked outside the cracked and pealing walls of his stark room.  One bare light bulb hung from a long chain from the ceiling to the left of his bed.  To the right of his bed was a window with a white tattered shade blocking out the light.  He hadn't shaved in days, and there was still dirt under his fingernails.  Why had he come to this forsaken city?  The only city with a sign at its border saying: Enter At Your Own Risk.

He was a wanderer.  He had travelled all over, but had hit rock bottom in search of something he still had not found.  He decided to start at the beginning again and see if there was something he had missed.  There was plenty of work here, in Ciao City, even though most of the jobs were illegal by Council standards.  His gaze focused on the dark dampened spots on his ceiling.  He remembered the past.

His mother had worked in this town before the Council had sanctioned its existence.  She had been one of the many prostitutes that had arrived in Ciao City searching for their fortunes.  She had believed she was infertile, but when her son was born, she viewed him as a miracle and a nuisance.  He was raised in an atmosphere of booze, drugs, cigarette smoke, and tricks.  He never knew who his father was, but his mother received checks from a man who must have been his father.  The checks were meant for him, but his mother spent them on clothes, a fancy apartment, and vices.  His mother never paid him any attention or showed any love or care for him.  She loved pink and gold and filled her room with such treasures as she could find.  She would tell him stories of his birth.  He could hear her words as if she were still telling him:  Hell, thought I was just getting fat.  What was I supposed to think?  My livelihood is based on my figure. I went to the doctor to be put on a diet or something.  When he told me, she would puff on a cigarette and have a gulp or two of her favorite Gin, then continue. When he told me I was pregnant, I could've killed myself.  I was going to have an abortion, but Charlene told me you would be more valuable to me if I just had you.  Shit!  I'd never even had a period.  Got my tubes tied after you, boy.  You're my lucky charm; my meal ticket.  But, boy, were you a pain to get out of me.  You were like a pimple that just wouldn't pop.  They drugged me up good.  Thank Running Tree or whatever.  Thank Oloplome for making such good drugs! When the doctor, another puff; another swig, When the doctor asked me what the hell I was going to name you, I said 'Hell, I don't know!'  He said they'd just tag you as 'boy'.  I didn't think that was fair -you didn't ask to be born or anything -and you sure as hell didn't act like you wanted to come out, but you sure are here now -aren't you. 

She would take another cigarette out and pop a few green pills, swallowing them with a glass of Drake's Gin.  The finest Gin money could buy, and his father's checks bought plenty.  Drake's Gin, my boy, Drake's Gin -ha!  That damned bastard always bought Drake's Gin -only stuff he would drink.  I figure, if it is good enough for him, it's good enough for me!  Damn Bastard.  That makes two of you: him figuratively speaking, you –ha; you literally, boy.  You were doomed from the start, boy -ha.  Her speech would slur more and more as she spoke, her head would begin to wobble, her eyes would roll, and, after a while, she would begin to repeat herself or stop making any sense at all.  That was his mother.  Or that was how he knew his mother.

He had never called her mother or mom, or any endearing term of the sort.  He called her Luela, like everyone else:  Luela Lacey.  Her real name was Nan Beatle, but she only told him that once in a drunken stupor and had denied it ever since. 

So, anyhow, I called you what I could, boy.  I called you Drake after the one thing good enough for your father and me: Drake's Gin.  Her errand boy, her shadow, and her excuse for anything she wanted to do wrong, or not do at all.  She had grown fat and lazy.  Her blond curls and pink dress made her look like a pig with beady blue eyes.  He knew he had his father's looks.  His mother, in the good days, was petite, gentle, and fair complexioned.  Drake grew tall.  He had large dark brown eyes and sandy brown hair. 

As a young boy, he roamed the streets with the pack of boys that vandalized whatever they could.  He started smoking at eight.  He slept with his first girl at ten.

When he was five, he remembered hearing of the space exploration to far off galaxies.  A message had been received at Aphrodite and had been relayed to Earth.  He longed to join the space travelers; to be amongst the stars.  The message had mentioned Running Tree, who had long before then retired from The Council.  He had disappeared and probably died ages before that. Sosha had taken his place, but had died in Council without naming her successor.  Geoffry Melchor was voted from the Counselor Training Program to join The Council in her place, but the lead position was taken by an old, apathetic and weak Counselor. Erik Kahn. 

When the message came, Erik found an old C.D. that Running Tree had made to play back if any message was ever received from the crew of Zeus, who had, in the most part, been given up for lost or destroyed, or been forgotten.  Erik played the C.D., but heard nothing on it.  He had figured it had been erased over the years, and he assumed that he had just sent static out into the air.  He had no idea what to say -so he sent the blank message through Aphrodite to Zeus and space.

Drake remembered, as he lay in his bed, staring at the water stains on his ceiling, how excited he was as a child to hear that a message had been received.  He thought that perhaps there was hope for even him if the crew of Zeus could travel so far to a strange planet and survive.  Somehow, the message had made him feel everything would be all right.

He had lived his life from then on as if someday he would have the chance to reach the stars.  His best pack buddy was Billy.  He also had hung with Angus who was the weakest, yet kindest link in the pack chain.  Echoes of the past flooded his mind, and he could hear the packs young voices.

Billy, did you see the look on old-man-Arnie's face when he got to his shop this morning and all his barter exchange notes of legal tender were gone!

Well, Drake, what about Miss Salley's face when Angus gave her the money for a trick!

Ya!

That's quite a fancy knife you bought with your split, Drake.

Who said I bought this knife, Billy?  The young Drake said with a smile.

You son-of-a-glitch!  Who'd you swipe it from?

You certainly got my Luela's name down.  I swiped it from one of Calloway's little hoods.

Man, you could get in trouble with that, man.

Nah, not with Luela's connections.  They'll probably cut the kid I swiped it from, and if they get within a foot of me -I'll cut them myself.

Ya, or unless they have a sword or one of those new fangled firing lead shots.

You know how hard it is to get one of those?  You'd have to be on The Council, itself, to get one of those.  Man, and not even one of the top hoods know how to use them -they barely know which end of a sword to battle with!  They're all knives, and poisons, and fire if they can find a match.

The two eight year old boys would laugh and snicker over their exploits.  They took a blood oath with Angus and swore to protect each other and avenge each other.  They ran with the wind and dragged their first cigarette at eight; their first swig of Gin at nine; their first barf the next morning.  They were together; always together.  This was his family; not that stuffed pig back in that tacky apartment he called Luela.  They were strong, young, and free together.

When Drake was ten, Angus was strangled to death by his own father.  Billy ran away from Ciao City that day.  Billy had wanted Drake to join him, but Drake couldn't, not yet.

This town'll kill you too, Drake.  Come with me.  I'm take'n the tram to Treeville, then perhaps get a horse and go to Laketown.  I can go anywhere from there.  Come with me.  Nobody could stop us if we're together.

I can't.

You still hoping Luela will puke up some information about your dad?  What do you want a father for anyways?  Look where that got Angus.  My dad is always on the road.  I hardly see him, but I understand.  You need to know.  Good-luck, man. Good-luck!

Ya, you too.  I'll miss you, spit-in-your-eye.

Ya, grab my sack, tit-head.

They smiled and wiped a dry tear or two.  They shook hands like men. 

Don’t look back, Drake.  Don't look back at me as I walk away.  Don't ever look back.

Ya, you won't either, will yuh?

Nah, I won't.  I won't ever look back.

Billy walked away; neither looked back.

That night, Drake took Sweet Cherry to her room and had his first sexual experience.  It was a bitter-sweet event.  It seemed he had already lost too much that day, and his virginity was the topper.  The experience wasn't what he had hoped it would be.  He thought the act, itself, might bring something back into his life, but it seemed to leave him feeling even more empty and alone.

He withdrew even further.  His mother only seemed to get worse, but never said his father's name or how Drake might find him.  No matter how he questioned her when she was out of her mind on some drug or alcohol, he never received the answers he needed and wanted.

And if you found him, Luela would say, And if you found him, what do you think he's gonna do?  Welcome his bastard son with open arms, ha!  You crazy boy.  You crazy boy, she would mumble then pass-out.

Thirteen meant freedom for children.  They had the right to choose what would happen to their lives from then on;  they had the right  to make the choices that would control their fates; direct their lives.  Drake wrote a letter to the space program when he was thirteen.  They sent him a written test.  He filled it out and sent it back; hoping.

The day he got his acceptance letter, he returned to his mother's smokey apartment and found Luela lying on her back, dead.  She had choked to death on her own drug induced vomit.  He packed his bags and left Ciao City.  He had sworn he would never return.

But, here he was, ten years later, to begin again.

When Drake had left at age thirteen, he had travelled by train to Wester City with the papers enrolling him in the education program for local Space Program.  Being a space traveler was a much more difficult role than he had expected.  He worked hard and passed all the physical tests. He had some difficulties with the psychological tests, but couldn't seem to do well at all on the written science tests.  He tried for three years to pass all the exams necessary to be accepted as a space traveler, after which time, he no longer was supported by The Council to pursue a Space career.  He relinquished his dreams and tried to work in the Environmental Agency, but was bored and dissatisfied.  He only was allowed to do the most menial of tasks for the Agency.  The Recycling Coalition was the same story.  He had to be accepted in a program and stay in it for a month to become a Citizen.  He couldn’t. 

He had met many women and had a few relationships.  Women outside of Ciao City were different.  They seemed colder; more withdrawn.  They were definitely more intelligent, which made scoring even more difficult.  When he was in the Space Program, he had met Precious.  They shared the same dreams.  She was fifteen and had joined the Program a year before Drake had started.  She excelled in everything except the physical tests.  Drake helped her build her muscles, flexibility, and tumbling abilities.  Precious tried to help Drake with his written tests, but he could not seem to get some of the concepts of spacial dynamics straight in his mind.

Precious had long black hair and green flashing eyes.  She was tall and thin.  She continued in the Space Program after Drake had left, but still lived with Drake and loved him.

Precious was sent to the moon.  Drake never heard from her again.

He wandered and did odd jobs here and there.

After ten years of trying, fighting, wandering, and failing -he returned to Ciao City, disillusioned and with none of the necessary exchange barter or legal tender to become a Citizen or live anywhere else.  It seemed, the more he searched to find something (his father, himself, or love), the more likely it would be that he never found what he was looking for and lost something he had finally thought he could call his own (friends, dreams, or women).

He had learned a lot about the real world outside Ciao City and how Ciao City had finally been allowed to exist.  He had studied History among many other subjects at the Space Program.

Even after Running Tree had resigned and Sosha had died, the Earth was still healing itself from the turmoil of the Civil Disturbances that had devastated the planet, but had changed what remained into a peaceful, environmentally sound, and outer space reaching planet.  The lack of conflict first enlightened the remaining populous of the planet, and then bored them.  An outlet was needed to balance the beauty and tranquility of the planet.  Ciao City was created in some secrecy from The Council.  When Sosha discovered its existence, and the environmental pollution and illegal activities allowed within its borders -she tried to close Ciao City.  There was an outcry from the citizens.  Many who had longed for some expression of decadence complained that they had strived to maintain a pure life without pollutants that were created in making decadent items.  Oil and gas had to come from somewhere to fuel the few automobiles that existed.  Most cars were operated with battery power, but where would the batteries be created when the old ones would no longer suffice?  Citizens wanted to smoke and drink and gamble.  Some wanted processed food, especially sugar.  Sosha was debating the idea with the other Council members:

No.  Running Tree's spirit would be appalled at the thought.  We did not work so hard to rebuild the Earth in order that the future generations could start down the road of destruction once again.  You exasperate me.

They need an outlet or they will rebel.  They grow restless.

Not all Citizens are restless.

The prison is necessary.

The prison existed long before the city rose from its surroundings.  The prison held fewer prisoners before Ciao City came into being.  That should be sign enough that the atmosphere is unhealthy to people as well as the planet.  It threatens life.

Sosha, listen, one little city . . .

That is how the destruction begins -allowing pieces to fall away until there is an explosion of just one city.  I have not lived so long and seen so much not to know the truth.

The Council of eight debated for many days.  Sosha called Counselor Meesha, who only had a transitory say in the Earth Council's decision.  She was, primarily, the Counselor for Aphrodite.  Her secondary position was to act as a deciding factor when the Earth Council votes were tied.  Sosha spoke with Meesha to tell her how the debates were developing.

I fear that the apathy of some and degeneration of others will overrule the sense and knowledge of ages.  I am old, Meesha.  I am too old to face such a struggle.  None here are worthy to replace me.  You are needed where you are.  We will have Council on Mars and perhaps Pluto soon.  We have been planning the reattempt at Centaurus, but the Earth Council and Citizens grow solon and apathetic.  I do not have the strength to carry the dreams and fight this new generation of self-centered Citizens.

Sosha, you have always known what is best.  I wish there was a way I could help you.  Find someone to take your place.  You deserve your rest.  I wish there were words of support I could give you that could change what is.  I'm sorry, Sosha.

Even though Sosha was Head Council, if the popular opinion was against her, she had no choice but to follow their lead.  She tormented over Ciao City and slept little.  Her advanced age weighed heavy upon her.  She stopped breathing and left no soldier to fight for the dreams she had fought for so long ago in the Civil Disturbances.

Erik Kahn replaced her and agreed that Ciao City would be sanctioned to exist with the stipulation that a warning sign be placed at its border and that any who resided within its borders would, still, not be considered Citizens.  The sign would say -Enter At Your Own Risk.

Ciao City was far away enough from any populated areas that its unhealthy environment was considered no risk to the rest of the populous.  Kahn did nothing much of notice during his time as Head Counselor.  Space was ignored except for the message received from people considered vague memories of ghosts.  Kahn died in office at a fairly old age.  Another apathetic and weak leader replaced him; Fred Talbot. Geoffry Melchor was the most popular Council member and was thought to be next in line after Fred Talbot.  He wasn't in the spot light often and was a friendly man, but seemed slyly underrated as an influential member of The Council.

What a damned mistake.  A damned shame, thought Drake. A damned world.  As the pictures of the past splashed across his mind, a knock on his door brought him back to the present.

Drake, are you awake!  Drake!  C'mon man -it's time to boogie!

Ya, ya, ya.  Do you mind if I run a razor across this tired, ugly face of mine, Pete?

No man -the wait would be worth it.  You've looked mighty sorry the past week-or-so.  I'll wait for you down-in-front.

His downstairs neighbor, Pete, was a friendly darkskinned drifter.  Pete was older than Drake, but seemed to have more of a youthful enthusiasm for life.  He lived one floor below Drake in the five story, twenty room, complex many of the transient workers lived in.  Drake lived on the fourth floor, but knew how to get on the roof from the fifth floor.  Drake and Pete spent many nights looking at the sky and wondering about space and life and the cosmos.

See, we don't need drugs, Drake, Pete had once said, We get weird enough on our own -just being us.

Drake liked Pete, but, sometimes, Pete became too exuberant.  Drake preferred the quiet times of thoughtful introspection.  Pete seemed to always want to do something or go somewhere.

As he shaved his face, he looked in the cracked and rust stained mirror at his tired expression.  But his face was far from ugly or tired.  He smiled.  How many women had fallen for that smile and his striking boyish appearance?  He washed the stubble off his face and peered once again through the cracks of the looking glass.  If only they knew what a devil lived behind my smile and eyes, certainly, they would have chosen another path that would not have crossed mine.  For a moment, he looked sad; lost like thechildLuela had continually pushed away from her.  He dried his face with an old shirt, put on his other shirt (because it was clean), pulled on his blue jeans, laced up his boots, grabbed his jacket and hard hat, rinsed his mouth with water, and spit towards the sink as he walked out the door.  The water that had swished in his mouth landed squarely in the sink as he hovered in the open doorway.  Two points, hesaid and shut the door.

CHAPTER 2

THE CREW

Hey! Pretty-Boy!  Trying to impress the boss or what?

Ya, Steve. Me and Norman are real pals, Drake said, sarcastically.

Pete and Drake walked ten blocks to work and met the other men on their shift on the way to the wells.  Steve was the first to join them.  He wasn't very smart, and he always spoke rudely to everyone, but he meant no harm.

Henry joined them next.  He was a tall, thin, and soft spoken man with dark hair, eyes, and eyebrows.

Hi Pete, Drake, Steve.

The monster speaketh!  What will it uttereth next? Steve joked.

Henry smiled back at Steve.  Henry had saved Steve's life once on a rigging-up job.  Steve had fallen and was hanging by his white knuckles when Henry pulled him up with one hand.

Oh, pal of mine -when are you going to shave and be a gentleman like Drake here. Henry patted Steve on the back and both smiled. 

Steve retorted; In your dreams, oh great gruesome one.

They laughed and strolled behind Pete and Drake, speaking in whispers with an occasional outburst of chortles from Steve.

Al joined them next.  She was the only female of the group and lived closest to the field.  By her appearance, no one would know she was a female.  The only time the men saw her was when she was in her work overalls that revealed no feminine figure whatsoever.  Her hair was always tucked tightly up in her hard hat (that was if she had hair).  She was always filthy with the dirt of the fields -as if she had never washed.  She spoke rarely, but when she did, it was pertinent.  She had a rough, gravelly voice that Steve thought was a put on for the rest of the guys.  She had a glow about her still.  A strange attractiveness, but no one on her team thought of her in anyway besides as one of the guys.  She wore her shaded goggles most of the time which obscured any facial features that weren't already covered with a thin layer of dirt.  Her eyes were never visible.  She was tough and could do the manly things better than Steve and as good as Drake.  She was accepted and welcomed in the group.  Drake considered Al his best buddy-pal and never thought of her as a woman, but rather a man.  He often thought she must be homosexual.  She could talk down and dirty, and no one ever held anything back when she was around like they would around a lady.  She could smoke more and drink more alcohol than any of them and still be coherent.  But, what Drake appreciated the most about her was that her spitting aim was perfect.  She could spit the furthest more accurately than the rest of them.  No one referred to her feminine nature.  They all just called her Al.  Sean, the ex-boss, had called Al, babe, once.  No one had ever seen him again, and Al had smiled for a whole week after Sean's disappearance.  Al rarely smiled.  Drake had asked Al, What did you do to Sean?  Al just smiled, that gleaming white tooth smile, and almost laughed. 

You scare me sometimes, Al.

Me? She smiled again.

Come on, Al.  Let's go to the corner and get smashed, trashed, and lashed.

Sure, bud.       Drake never knew if Al got lashed -he preferred not to know.

Hey.  Al said as she joined them.

Hey, bud. Drake replied.

Al.  Henry said.

Yo, Al.  When are you gonna bathe?  Steve chided.

Ask your mother.  Al said.

Well, ya . . . well . . . Everyone laughed. 

Do you got the score for tonight's game?  Pete asked.

No.  Al replied.

Time ain't right yet?  Zeus! I been waiting near two year.  I know. I know.  Patience. Pete said.

Sure.  Al said.

As they approached the field, the tall and dark derrick structures that reached towards the sky in their triangular metal frameworks were silhouetted against the horizon and the setting sun.

The group reached the field, and worked in pairs, as usual.  Norm worked with Pete most of the time.  Some nights, he'd switch off, but usually not.  Pete was not thrilled with the arrangement, but the company was looking to hire another man.  The pairs would fill in for each other on breaks.  Each pair would watch two wells at a time. When one team was on break, a pair would watch four wells.  Drake worked with Al, and Henry and Steve worked together.  No one else wanted to work with Steve and most of the guys were afraid of Al (especially since Sean had vanished) -even though they wouldn't admit their fear.

If they did any rigging up, they would be asked to come in the day and pull a double shift, which Al often did.  Drake believed that explained why Al was always dirty.        At night, they mostly watched the wells to ensure everything was running smoothly, or watched newly rigged wells to see if anything was hit: shale or a gusher.  They'd have to direct the shale or cap the gusher.  The sun's light dimmed and the necklace of artificial lamps shined to illuminate the fields.

Hey Al.

Drake?

I heard you had the pleasure of working with Norm during the day this week.

Ya.

You helped complete some wells.

Ya.

Got the perforator in; shot the bullets.

Ya.

Got the tubing in and set the christmas tree.

A thrill.  What about it?

I've never done that.  Never was asked.

So . . . ?

Well . . .  I'd like the opportunity -okay?

Sure -whatever.

Hey Al.

What Bud?

You think Queenie will blow tonight?

She's bound to blow someday.

We rigged her up good.

Sure did, Bud -rotary drill.

She has the most beautiful derrick I've ever seen.

You need sex, Drake.  Some lashing, huh?  You're getting goofy on me, bud.

Speaking of goofy -you've seemed out of yourself the past few days.

Ya.

Almost depressed, bud.

Ya.

You make a sex crack, and I let it slide - and you're still not going to tell me the haps?

Sure.  I'm leaving soon.  Okay?

Al, bud, no way - and you weren't even gonna whisper a word to me -were you?  Dang! When are you going?

Two; three days, tops.

What's going down?  What deal you making?

I have to find somebody.

Man, oh, man. Drake shook his head as he sat on the edge of a derrick watching Al chew on a piece of straw grass as she paced below him.

His best bud was leaving and wasn't even going to tell him. He didn't speak to Al the rest of the night.  She didn't seem to mind. At one point, in the early morning hours, around quitting time, Al's goggle strap broke with a snap.  Drake looked up at Al, who had climbed above him to tighten some screws on the derrick that had loosened, and found himself staring into Al's deep, bright, brilliant, and full eyes.  She turned and quickly fixed the strap then replaced the goggles.  Drake turned back to his own thoughts. What was her trip?  He had someone to look for too. Maybe they could look together?  Was Al a macho woman?  Did she prefer sex with women, or was she a celibate?  Or did she like men -just not Drake?  Those eyes.  Who was Al, really?  His best pal since he met her -one, two years ago?  Who was she looking for?  His thoughts crowded in upon one another trying to find clues to answers.  The thoughts circled over and over again as everyone walked back to their residences.  As Al walked away from the group towards her lodgings, she turned and screamed back at the men in a voice they had never heard before: STOP IT!  She ran towards her building and disappeared leaving the men in the dust.

What the hell . . . said Steve.

It's time. Pete said.

She's really a she underneath that dirt somewhere -isn't she?  Henry said without expecting a response.

The group walked on except for Drake, who stood frozen in the same spot. As Al had yelled those two words, his thoughts had ceased, and all he could think of was having one more beer with his best bud before she left.  The rusty colored dusty road towards his apartment stretched out before him in the early light of the morning hours like a promise, but he did not move.

C'mon Drake, let's go get some grub and clean up.  Cards today. Pete said.

Drake jogged back to the group with an eerie feeling following his soul.

CHAPTER 3

DREAMING

A day off meant sleeping through the night for Drake.  He lay on his cot in his desolate room dreaming of better hours and staring at the largest spot on his ceiling.  The darkness of the night crept into his room. His eyes shut in slumber.  He dreamt of stick ball in the streets and the laughing voices of Billy and Angus.  His dreams turned on him violently with Luela's clammy hand striking his face, Bastard!  Then a smoky mysterious stream of light entered his dreams.  He was in his apartment, lying face-up on his bed.  The light drifted in his window; then entered the light bulb hanging from the ceiling on a chain near his bed.  He watched it.  The light caressed his face with a feathery touch that was gentle, yet full of passion.  He felt such love and warmth as he had never felt in his life before.  He heard a feminine voice say, I love you.  The words vibrated throughout his body as soft and as passionate as the caress.  Who are you? He thought the words in a surreal daze.  At the foot of his bed, the light transformed into a woman.  Drake was transfixed by the figure.  She was six feet tall, at least, and had golden brown hair two her waist with silver feathers down the sides of her hair.  She wore a flowing white gown that swirled around her pail skin as if a gentle breeze was blowing in his room.  She moved as if she was carried by the wind.  Her lips parted, and she reached out her hand as she said, Help me, Drake.  Slowly, Drake reached his hand towards the woman.  She felt unbelievably real.  She lay down beside him in his bed and hummed beautiful melodies.  She felt good lying next to him. 

Will you stay forever?

I will be in your heart and eyes always.

Angel.  He replied in the slow motion haze that filled his room; his dream. He reached to touch her face and kiss her lips.

Drake . . . Drake . . . are you going to sleep all day?  Pete's voice broke Drake's slumber. 

He found, as he blinked his eyes open, the arms that had once surrounded an angel were hugging his pillow.  His strong chest breathed a sigh of sadness.  She had only been a dream.  He wanted to cry.  He wanted to go back to sleep and see her again.  He wanted to stuff a sock in Pete's mouth.

Drake . . . Drake . . .  are you coming out or not.  I thought you were coming to the track with me today!

Ya.  Give me a bit.  Okay Drake finally replied.  There was a strain in Pete's voice that made Drake answer and not roll over to look for the apparition.

Sure man -too many ladies last night -huh? The stress in Pete's voice seemed to ease.

Ya, Ya. Drake replied.

Drake lay in his bed unable to shake the image of the angel.  "No, my Angel, he said aloud as if answering his own thoughts.  He tried to recapture her image.  He tried to play back every moment, but she was gone.  All he could remember was the feeling of peace and happiness and love he had felt.  I'm in love with a dream.  Great!  He mumbled to himself, Great."  He stood up and walked to his mirror and splashed cold water on his face and stared in the mirror a long time.  He thought he saw a flash of light reflect across the mirror, but when he turned around, nothing was there.

Drake threw on a shirt and pants, slipped on a pair of shoes, and realized his stomach was grumbling. Today was payday; Pete's track day.  Pete must've picked up both their spending notes because Drake was sure the sun had been up awhile and that the pickup point had passed.  Drake ran to the window and pulled his tattered shade.  As the shade snapped up, the sunlight flooded his dingy apartment.  The sun was passed mid-point in the sky; only a handspan of the sun until shift time.  He had slept through his night-off and most of the following day.  It was a miracle that Pete hadn't broken down his door.  Pete's voice had sounded strange.

Drake ran to the door and flung the door open on Pete standing outside, fumbling an envelope in his hands, nervously.

How long have you been here, Pete?

Too long, Pretty-Boy.  Good to see your smiling face.  To tell you the truth, I was ready to break down this door.

You must've been standing here for 20 degrees of the sun or more.

You could say that -at first I figured you weren't home.  I checked all your hang outs and picked up the pay, and then I came back and knocked and yelled at least 15 degrees of the sun.

Man, I must've been gone.

Tell me where you went because you are glowing like plutonium.  Did you meet some fancy chick?

Ya, you could say that -or maybe I just got plenty of beauty sleep.  Drake smiled.  His old pal seemed more at ease.

Well, sleeping pretty-boy, here's your pay.  Pete handed Drake the envelope.  I shoulda docked you some for all the worry you put me through besides being 30 degrees of the sun down late for the track.  Pete smiled.

The horses will wait, but my growling stomach won't.

You grab something at the track.  You can't be picky 'cause you slept the night and the day away.

Ya, Ya.  Track food is always too expensive because of the visiting citizens.

You ready to go grumble-butt -or you gonna stand and hold up your doorway all day?

Let's go, ya Pete, let's go.

The two men left the faded building that had become the same rusty color of the dusty streets instead of the grey it once was.  They walked out onto the toxic streets of Ciao City.

What's that smell? Drake asked.

You don't crawl out of your cave enough, pretty-boy, said Pete. It's just the sewer.  It backed up again today.  Ya.  That'll headline the news today.  Ha!

Well, I've never smelled it so strong before. Drake said, kicking a piece of litter out of his way as they walked along towards the tracks.

It’s oddly warm today.  Probably means a storm will be coming in soon.  Plus, it always smells worse near the tracks.

The tracks were three stadiums stuck together in a triangular formation for easy access.  If a gambler got tired of losing at the horse races, he could walk to another stadium through a causeway and waste his money on dog races, or hare races, or cock fights in the lobbies.  The tracks were the cheapest and easiest way a visitor to,