Chapter Text
"See ya' Cecil!"
Leonard Burton stood outside his car, waving to him with a friendly but halfhearted flap of his wrist. Cecil felt as if his chest would explode, if only to release the sanctuary of butterflies fluttering in his lungs.
He had heard Leonard's sign off hundreds of times before. That was unavoidable in Night Vale. But there was something extraordinary about having it so personally directed at him. Just being acknowledged by the Voice was an honor. Today he had been acknowledged exactly fourteen times, and it was....well, it was just neat!
Cecil hurriedly wiped his sweaty palms on his brand new NVRC intern T-shirt, before waving back to Leonard. The host of Night Vale Community Radio then climbed into his car and drove off. He was so cool.
On the horizon, the sun was just starting its slow descent. Here, out front of the radio station, Cecil watched it with a smile he was sure would never come off his face. Stepping into the radio station for the first time felt like a disconnected timeline snapping together, like the tangles of the universe straitening and revealing themselves in their entirety. It felt like knowing something unknowable, like feeling something that no one else had ever felt. It was magical. He could intern for another century and never grow tired of it.
There was something on the horizon. No, not something, someone. And not on the horizon, much closer.
"Earl!" Cecil called to the figure, smiling widely. Earl had said he was going to walk him home from the station, and Cecil was dying to have someone to ramble to.
A boy with curly red hair and a crooked smirk stepped more clearly into view, wearing the Night Vale Boy Scout sash. There was little Earl liked more than being a boy scout, and he wore the thing quite literally everywhere.
"Hey, you!" Earl laughed as he punched Cecils forearm affectionately. "How was the future Voice of Night Vale's first day?"
Blushing and grinning in equal measure at the title, Cecil punched Earl back. "Well I mean I hope I make it to be the Voice of Night Vale-"
"Cecil, the tablets at City Hall literally said so."
"Well I don't want to jinx it!"
"Oh come on, don't be modest!"
Cecil frowned. "No, I literally don't want to jinx it. You know what city council always says: every fourth prophecy told has, like, a ridiculously high jinx potential. Plus I could die before that day! Or get thrown into some other universe! Or become one of those Non-Angels that shop at the Ralph's!"
"Ah yeah..." Earl said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well in that case, how was the potential future Voice of Night Vale's first day? "
"Oh it was the neatest!" He nigh-on squealed, before catching himself and clearing his throat in embarrassment. Like any young teenager, Cecil was obsessed with appearing collected and mature. "Leonard let me touch the microphone during the weather, and showed me how to make his coffee. He likes it real strong, and pounded with a sledge hammer- he really goes the extra mile!"
"Can you even lift a sledgehammer?" Earl teased lightheartedly, starting to head in the direction of the Palmer residence.
"Of course I can! I could even lift you if I wanted to, I bet!" Cecil replied in mock offense, following Earl subconsciously as they walked.
"No thanks, I choose life."
The urge to reply with a comeback ultimately submitted to the stronger urge to keep rambling.
"Ooh, I saw station management in their full form and it was terrifying!" Cecil said it in a way that sounded much more like delight than terror. "They didn't even try to eat me! Leonard said that they try to eat most people, so that must be a really good sign!"
"Wow, that sounds...dangerous."
"Oh, it is! Everything about interning is dangerous! There were even venomous snakes in the intern break room, but it's fine because they were adorable. "
Earl laughed along in a way that sounded much more like terror than delight. "Well, try not to get killed, okay? I don't feel like searching for a new best friend any time soon."
"Eh, if I get killed by some cute venomous snakes, that's just how I go! Personally I think the best way to die is to be swallowed by a snake, so it works out."
"Haha, yeah." Earl replied in that same unconvinced tone. "So, how did you convince Leonard to let you start working? I mean no offense but we're only fourteen."
"Oh, I didn't have to ask!" Cecil grinned in pride, taking the chance to boast, if only a little. "Yesterday I ran into Leonard in Mission Grove Park. It was awe striking, just seeing him there! I've never had a real conversation with him before, so I somehow gathered the nerve to go talk to him. He recognized me immediately and said that a lot of his interns have been... uh... well, let's just say he's short on interns. And he offered me the job! Me! Of all people!"
"I mean you are the next-"
"Potentially next," Cecil corrected. "Can't let the universe know that I know that, remember? Anyways, I went to ask my mother, and she just made a sound that was a bit like a cross between a sob and a wail? And then she left the room. So. I told Leonard she's fine with it, and I can start right away!"
"Cool!"
It is pretty cool, Cecil thought to himself, feeling more grown up than he had ever felt in his life. He was going to be the best intern Leonard had ever seen. By the time he turns fifteen, he would out-do any of the adult interns at the station, he was sure of it. Besides, his Little Reporter's Book of Big Boy Note Taking already put him leaps and bounds beyond any other intern in terms of field work. He didn't even need to leave the station to investigate a story: the right words would simply unfold themselves onto the page.
Laughing, Earl stopped walking, making Cecil turn around, confused.
"Cecil, were are you going? You just passed your own house."
"Oh! Uh, thanks!" A deep blush spread across his cheeks as he walked back to the front yard of modest bungalow in the center of the street. "Did you want to stay for a bit? Mom actually went grocery shopping the other day so there's snacks in the cupboard now! "
"Honestly, I'd love to Cecil... but I need to get started on that science report about which weather events are illegal to mention and which ones aren't. "
Ah yes that science report. Cecil had forgotten almost all about it.
"Isn't the weather just illegal to talk about for the most part?" He replied.
A song started to hum quietly in the background, the notes sounding like foggy whispers, but definitely still there.
"Whoops." Cecil cringed at the sound, although if he were being honest with himself, he found great pride in the ability. "Didn't mean to do that."
"Cecil Palmer!" Came a booming voice from a helicopter whirling above the neighborhood. "How many times do you need to be told that the public only needs one weather report per day!'
"I know, I know!" Cecil whined back at it. "I already said I didn't mean it!"
Even though the helicopter didn't reply, Cecil swore the whirring of the rotors sounded more annoyed. He huffed back at it. The Sheriff's Secret Police force were trustworthy leaders...but they were also a bit nitpicky, and it often proved to be a pain in the-
"We can hear your thoughts young man!"
Cecil squeaked in surprise, and looked up at the helicopter again, this time with a modest amount of guilt.
Earl giggled. "I'll see you on Monday, I really have to be going." He said to Cecil, toes still pointed in his direction as the rest of his body gestured to the stretch of side walk behind them.
"Yep. Goodnight!" Cecil patted his friend's shoulder, wishing he didn't have to go, but knowing better than to manipulate him into staying. There was just so much more he wanted to talk about, and his mother wouldn't-
Well. It wasn't fair of him to complain about his mother. Just because she never really spoke to him didn't mean she didn't care.
He climbed the porch stairs to the front door, before pausing briefly to watch Earl start for home. This was fine, he was not upset. He was actually quite used to not having anyone to talk to about exciting things! This was fine.
As soon as he stepped through the front door, he noticed a message etched into the hardwood floor, likely with some kind of pocket knife. "Start taking off your shoes before coming inside. I have to live here too, you know."
"Sorry faceless old woman!" He called out, assuming (correctly) that she could hear him. Cecil kicked off his rainboots. There wasn't any need for rainboots in the dry desert climate, but these were zebra print and they sparkled: which was all that mattered.
A loud, heavy sigh was audible from the kitchen.
"Mom! Oh, I have just so much to tell you!" Cecil called in the direction of the sound. There was no reply, as per usual. As per usual, it didn't bother him. As per usual, he wondered if it would matter if he wasn't halfway across the house from her. As per usual, he decided to find out.
Cecil peeked around the entrance to the kitchen. His mother was sat with her back pressed against the wall. It wasn't clear from her expression if she noticed him yet. An empty bottle rested on the counter, just to her left. Her jaw wasn't tight, and there were no tears in her eyes. Her demeaner was more of a hollow shell than a person: and yet, she was family, and Cecil knew that no family member was perfect.
"So, you made it home after all." There was a hint of disappointment in her tone that Cecil instinctively tuned out.
He lit up. "Sure did! It was a close call though, the station sure is exciting- in all meanings of the word!"
"Don't use the station washrooms." She said, a grim seriousness in her tone. Her gaze did not meet his, instead drifting right through him. "I doubt they cover the mirrors there. I doubt anyone else is like you. Are you even real Cecil? Do you exist? How do you exist."
"Ooh that's a good point! I never thought to ask Leonard to cover the mirrors. Oh, I don't know though... should I be asking him? I've only been working for a day, and I'm just a kid, should I expect him to cover the mirrors just for me? City Hall is pretty close by, I could use the bathrooms there. Ah, but the washrooms are in their labyrinth below the ground, and I'd probably spend my whole shift trying to find them. That's no good. I don't know mom, what do you think?"
As Cecil finished his ramble, he fixed his eyes on his mother's expression. She only stared ahead, no emotions evident in her blank slate of a face. Could she smile? Cecil was sure he must have seen her smile at some point, but as he thought about it, no memories surfaced.
He allowed several more beats of silence to pass. Nothing.
All in all, that was a pretty good conversation, Cecil thought to himself as he retreated to his bedroom. Better than he expected: maybe he should be less harsh about his assumptions regarding his mother. Like anyone, she was just doing her best.
Despite the shame he felt for it, there was still a voice deep within him that wanted more. Someone to properly talk to. There was little Cecil enjoyed more than talking: it was the heart of his entire identity. With a sigh, he pushed the thought back to whatever corner of his mind it had emerged from.
A small tape recorder was tucked under his bed. Cecil pulled it out, clicking the button on the front.
"Cecil Palmer, January third- presumably. Time is weird.
There is a boy resting on his bed- no, not a boy, a young man. And resting is not the right word. He just....sits. Sits, and thinks about how he needs to get better with words if he ever wants to be a radio professional. It was his first day as an intern today, and he has a lot to say about it."
Silence. The words that had been clawing at his throat, desperate to spill out, now planted themselves stubbornly just under his tongue.
"Listeners, have you ever spoken to the shadows in the corners of your walls? They're good listeners, but there is something so stagnant about them. It is possible to imagine them gasping at a shocking detail, or laughing at a funny moment...but is it really possible to believe it? Have you ever had a story that was so significant it has to be told to something living? Maybe the shadows are living, who knows. I'm sorry to the shadows if I've offended them. Actually, I should probably stop talking, but I'm not sure if I will. "
Cecil wasn't sure what was happening to him. Every word he spoke made him cringe. He was never like this. Day after day he talked to the shadows, and trapped his voice in these cassette tapes. It was enough for all of those days, and there was no reason for that to be different now.
"The young man is placing his feet on the floor from their previous position on the bed. The texture of sand on the hard wood is... not pleasant. He is beginning to understand why the faceless old woman was so adamant about him taking off his footwear. Maybe he should sweep the floor....but eh. He doesn't feel like it."
Fingers brushed against the back of Cecil's neck in a feather like manner, causing him to jump slightly.
"Well I'm certainly not going to do it for you. " A voice over his shoulder whispered in a chastising tone. "Just because I'm an old woman, doesn't mean I'm going to be your maid."
"The young man- no. The boy sighs." Cecil said, pausing to let out a tired sigh. Suddenly being a young man didn't sound so fun. "He still doesn't want to sweep, but he will when he gets home, he promises- I will, I promise."
When he gets home? Did he mean to say that? Before the words left Cecils mouth, he wasn't even aware he wanted to go anywhere. Where did he want to go?
With his own intentions remaining a mystery to him, Cecil climbed completely off of his bed, and, passing his mother in the kitchen, he pulled his rain boots back on. It wasn't quite dark yet, but it was close. In most places, it was ill advised for kids to be out at night: in Night Vale, doubly so. Still, Cecil followed whatever urge was pushing him to step out the door.
Make sure you're home before 10pm! He imagined his mother saying to him as he left. I will! He thought back to the imagined voice, already making the decision not to be. Like most boys his age, he took pride in being rebellious, even if he didn't know why.
The evening air was crisp- at least as crisp as it could get in the heavy desert climate. The tape recorder was cradled in Cecil's left arm, and his right hand held his reporter's notebook.
Perhaps that was a good place to start, in terms of figuring out where he wanted to go. If there was anywhere exciting to be at this hour, his notebook would definitely point him in the right direction.
Balancing the tape recorder awkwardly in the crook of his elbow, he flipped open the book.
Earl is wishing the words of his report onto the paper in front of him. He is being a good student , but also a good citizen: obeying the writing utensil ban dutifully.
Cecil groaned. Wishing words onto paper is not very efficient, and Earl wouldn't be finished for a while.
With an awkward tilted-jump-shake motion, he flipped the page.
Outside the Ralph's, three ravens have transformed into what appears to be Labrador Retriever puppies. The puppies are reportedly quite sociable, and have taken an especially strong liking to Jason Peters: you know, John's dad?
Oh, that was interesting and very tempting. There's nothing that pours life into one's soul quite like holding a puppy. And John was alright, even if Cecil didn't have much in common with him. It was possible that he would be shopping with his father, in which case Cecil might actually have someone to chat with.
Just as Cecil tilted his body again to close the journal, a wisp of black ink began to arrange itself into letters across the opposite page. It was only a twitch of movement in the corner of his eye: Cecil himself was shocked that he had noticed it. Perhaps in a different reality, he would have closed the book, completely unaware.
The non-angelic winged beings with a multitude of eyes and long feathers- who are all named Erika- are opening a portal out by the car lot. They claim to be establishing a passage to a place populated by demons, who are, apparently, good company to have for tea. Tea is on the non-angelic agenda for tonight, and all of the demons are invited.
Now that seemed like a real story. Cecil had seen many puppies over his life time: and although he could never get tired of seeing puppies, there was something undeniably thrilling about getting the chance to see a demon up close and personal.
As Cecil made his way to the car lot, he pictured himself perched across from the vortex the Erikas had conjured, professionally narrating the entire scene into his tape recorder. He would describe every minute detail of the demons: right down to the glint of their scales. Maybe Leonard would play it on air! Oh, that would be even neater than seeing a demon.
Cecil decided that if he were to be swallowed by a malevolent monster as a consequence of being on this adventure, getting his voice played on air would make the dying bit worth it.
Oh he was truly getting into the intern spirit now!
A few houses upstream of the car lot, was an apartment building. Cecil passed it rather hurriedly, praying to the void that his sister would not see him from her window on the second floor. She was insufferably bossy, and her lecture about his lack of responsibility would probably last long enough to make Cecil miss the opening of the portal: that is, if she didn't also insist on driving him home. That would make miss much more than that.
To Cecil's relief, the building was soon behind him, and there wasn't even a hint of shouting along the way. He felt that distinct teenage pride again at the idea of getting away with mischief. It was still unclear to him why he felt it.
The car lot was easy to spot: partly because of the deafening howls of car salesmen, and partly because of the deep black glow emanating from the location. Sparks of excitement tickled his lungs as he realized that the glowing was courtesy of a vortex: a magnificent swirling mass, deep and viscous.
Erikas were gathered around it, feathers swaying elegantly as they moved. Cecil watched from a distance in fascination, deciding he wouldn't go any closer. A good reporter is never spotted. Taking a few minutes to set up his recorder, Cecil settled into the sand.
"Do you like, have all the stuff dude?" One Erika was saying to another.
The Erika on the receiving end of the conversation shrugged with their wings.
"I mean, does anyone ever have all the stuff? That's a lot of stuff, man. The world is full of stuff. I have ten dollars that I borrowed from a guy named Chase, if that counts."
The first Erika also shrugged. A few feet over, another Erika piped up:
"Do you guys remember that demon with three red horns and thirty two different colored eyes? Anyone know their name? You know, 'cause the heavens don't let us access underworld knowledge things."
A few seconds of awkward silence transposed among the group of three.
"Aw man. Does anyone have that book full of demon names and stuff?"
The second Erika gestured with a long, bony arm to the house across from the car lot.
"Nah dude, I left it at the house. Let's go grab it, I guess. Should probably know the demons' names and stuff before we invite them, they might get upset if we mess that up."
All of the Erikas shrugged now, in perfect unison. The sound of three pairs of wings rising and slumping was caught by Cecil's tape recorder seconds before he verbally described it.
The first Erika dissolved into the ground, vanishing within several seconds. The second Erika eyed the third for a moment, before saying:
"You know, I'm glad he could make it. I've seen that other reality, and it's kind of boring, you know?"
"Yeah, same dude. I mean, every time line is filled with human misunderstandings and weird ideas, but this one just kinda hits right."
Cecil wondered if he missed some crucial part of their conversation, faltering in his speech for a moment. Before he could even begin to piece anything together, the remaining Erikas joined the first, dissolving and disappearing.
Cecil was now completely alone with the vortex. It twisted in the desert infront of him, consisting of dark pools of void slipping elegantly over one another. The realization hit him suddenly, presenting itself as a shiver that transcended his entire spine.
What was on the other side? Was it hell? The demons were probably from hell, right? Had there ever been an intern that has reported on a story in hell?
He could easily be the first.
It was unclear if it was terror or excitement that was making his heart race. Either way, Cecil scooped up his tape recorder, grabbed his note book, and began to slowly close the distance between himself, and the rip in space before him.
Once he was directly facing it, he paused, feeling dreadfully aware of the possibility that he may never return from attempting something so daring. But oh, how proud Leonard would be! Radio was about risks: reporting on controversial events, tending to station management, and sometimes, yes, crossing into dangerous and unknown planes of existence. No. He was going to do this. His mind was made up.
"I am reaching towards the vortex," Cecil began, tucking his notebook between his body and the tape recorder so that he could free his arm for the movement.
"Words fail me, it is so beautiful. The Erikas might not like that I'm utilizing their talents to satisfy my own mortal curiosity... but there must be something beyond this something. I must see what it is! I must go. I will... try to make it back alive.
"I am touching the vortex now. It feels cold around my fingers, like the fast, but steady exhale of a galaxy. It gives easily as I extend my hand further, allowing it to become fully enveloped. My breath catches in my lungs for a moment, before my body acts on my decision to step inside."
He did. He stepped into the vortex: first only allowing his leg to dissapear into its darkness, but then following through with his torso and his head.
The first thing that Cecil noticed was the blackness. It was not the blackness that came with the absence of light: it was as if the blackness was a material of an unfathomable nature, providing a backdrop of endless void. Somewhere in the near distance ahead, a ripple suggested a possible way out.
"I am walking towards the ripple," Cecil reported, determined to have a full account of this event by the time he returned. "When I had touched the vortex, it felt cold. This intermediate space between the two sides, does not feel like anything. The air feels stagnant, as if I am pushing through static particles on my journey to the exit of this portal. Maybe I am: who am I to say otherwise."
Once he had reached the ripple, he noticed that it, too, felt cold to the touch. Bracing himself, he pushed his hand through.
"I feel a warmth on my hand now, as it touches the air on the other side of the vortex. It is not an unbearable warmth: rather, it is pleasant change. As my skin interprets this sensation as safe, I allow myself to step fully through."
Cecil did. As his body emerged on the other side, he blinked blankly at his surroundings.
"Um...what?" He blurted, losing all eloquence. A heat burned in his cheeks at the blunder.
What Cecil had expected to see was dancing red flames and jagged cliffs. Instead, he was staring at a familiar car lot. This didn't make any sense. Did he just enter a portal that spat him back out exactly at the location he had started from?
Maybe all he had to do was go through it again. Frowning, Cecil turned to face the vortex again-- and gasped. His thumb clicked the tape recorder button again.
"Moments ago, the vortex was an almost-black, navy hue. As I look upon in now, I see that it is white, with pink swirls scattered throughout. I don't...I don't understand what is happening.
I am turning my head now to look at Ms. Josie's house. It seems exactly like it did when I left. The Erikas are- oh wait. No. No those are not Erikas. They are similar in height, but much bulkier in stature. Instead of feathers, there is only sweat glazed skin, dark and leathery. I have never seen a being like this, so I can only assume they are-"
"Demons?"
The new voice made Cecil jump, the recorder tumbling out of his arms along with the notebook. He swiveled around, facing the source of the sound with wide, startled eyes.
Before him stood a boy, hands raised defensively. He was not tall or short, not thin or fat. His hair and nose were like Cecil's--save for the fact that Cecil's tips were dyed, and this boy's tips seemed to just be bleached.
Cecil wondered briefly if he was looking at himself. A new jolt of adrenaline rushed through him at the thought. The only way he could look at himself in real time involved a mirror- and if this was anything like looking in a mirror, he had to get out of there, now.
Before he could break out of his trance for long enough to leap back through the vortex, the boy spoke again.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to- wait what? Okay whoa."
The stark difference between his own voice and the voice of the person in front of him grounded Cecil's racing thoughts. It broke the eery illusion of looking at himself, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"Are you... me?" The stranger asked, an expression between terror and fascination beginning to spread across his features.
"Um! I don't think so?" Cecil replied, still not quite recovered from his own burst of terror.
The boy's brows twitched slightly, and Cecil could only assume that he had also registered the difference in their voices.
"Well in that case, the resemblance is just uncanny! You're not from here, are you? I mean of course not. What a silly question, I just watched you step out of that vortex. Ah. Let me start again," he said, pausing to let out an awkward chuckle. "Hey there! I'm Kevin. Welcome to Desert Bluffs!"
Kevin grinned, but his eyebrows remained anxiously upturned.
"Uh, hi!" Cecil returned the friendly tone, slowly processing this new development in his evening. "I'm Cecil. And I think you're a little mixed up, I am from here. You don't seem to know where you are though, so let me help you out. Welcome to Night Vale, interloper!"
The other boy's face scrunched up. "Night Vale? I've never heard of any place called Night Vale."
"Well, I'm not entirely sure where you came from, but there should be a sign just at the end of the car lot. I can show you if you'd like!"
"I guess?" Kevin shrugged, following Cecil as he began to walk across the sand. " But all you're going to find is a sign welcoming you to Desert Bluffs."
"No, watch, see -- the sign is right here, and on the other side, it says....oh."
Welcome to Desert Bluffs! Said the sign, in neon yellow lettering. Kevin's smirk was nothing short of smug as Cecil turned to him, gaping.
"So it... it really did take me somewhere."
"Seems to be!" He replied brightly, gesturing to the desert around them, before stopping abruptly. "Oh, excuse me for a moment."
Cecil watched him turn sharply, nearly knocking his heart shaped sunglasses off of his head. He was looking directly at the demon that was perched calmly on a lawn chair atop of what was (possibly?) Ms. Josie's porch.
"You are a demon!" He shouted at them, although his tone sounded more jovial than accusatory. "As mandated by law, I acknowledge that you are there!"
The creature on the perch gave a shrug similar in nature to the Erikas, although with much less feathers.
"Yeah, whatever dude! Thanks!" They called back in a deep, rumbling tone that seemed to pass through Cecil's very core.
The boy turned back to Cecil again, smiling apologetically. "Last time I waited too long, the Sheriff's Secret Police got kind of huffy about it. Speaking of demons though, I'll be perfectly honest with you- I didn't expect a human to come out of that vortex."
Cecil was still trying to figure out what kind of Secret Police force would actually mandate something to be acknowledged- but he caught enough of what Kevin was saying to ask:
"What did you expect? A demon?"
"Um, I kind of expected an angel actually."
Cecil's eyes widened at the boy's blatant admission of the existence of angels. Any moment he expected to hear the familiar sound of the 'Angel Aknowleged' alarm. It didn't come.
"An...angel?" He echoed, feeling wickedly rebellious. No sirens. No alarm. "You were expecting an angel?" He said again, the thrill of saying the word penetrating him right down to his bones.
"Oh sweet void, that probably sounded like the beginning of a weird pick up line. I promise I didn't mean it like that!" Kevin said, misinterpreting Cecil's bewilderment as discomfort. "I mean I was literally expecting an angel. There's lots of demons here in Desert Bluffs, and I have heard of angels, but I've never seen one here. And then I found out that the demons and angels were going to be gathering here, and I decided to come check it out."
"Oh! Well we have lots of angels in Night Vale. Like: a bunch of angels. Angels, angels, angels galore! Angels at the park, angels at the bowling alley, angels shopping at the Ralph's. Lots of angelic activity at the Ralph's."
Kevin raised an eyebrow at Cecils ramble. "Wow. You Night Valeans must take the mandatory acknowledgement rule pretty seriously."
That sent Cecil into a fit of laughter, much to the other boy's visible confusion.
"Oh! Oh that is funny! No, but anyways. Uh, can I interview you? I've never interviewed anyone, and my stuff is all here." He gestured messing at the tape recorder, which he had never bothered to pick up from the sand.
"Okay, that sounds nifty! "
"Nifty?" Cecil couldn't help but scoff.
"Yes! Nifty! I happen to like the word. Don't you have a go-to word? You know, like when there's not really a right word for something that makes you happy so you just say...."
Kevin held out his palm to Cecil, waiting for him to finish the sentence.
"Neat." His lips paused in their half-parted position as soon as the word was out. Huh. Oddly enough, he didn't even realize he had a go-to word. How many times had he said 'Neat' without even realizing it throughout his lifetime?
The red glare of the setting sun hitting Cecil's eyes brought him back to reality, and he quickly picked up the tape recorder, clearing his throat.
"I have found myself in another town called Desert Bluffs. Here with me is Kevin- who is, presumably, a citizen of this new, mysterious place. How are you doing today, Kevin?"
***
There was an odd expression on Kevin's face as he thought about the answer, his fingers tapping on his knees as he sat cross-legged in the sand. "Just swell, besides the persistent, nagging feeling that things are going to go downhill real fast in the next few hours. You caught me at a good time, Cecil! "
A few beats of silence passed, in which Cecil wondered if he should ask. Something about Kevin's smile seemed to beg him not to. He complied with the unspoken wish, and continued talking.
***
"So, tell us about your town!"
At this, the tension in Kevin's demeanor dissipated, masked instantaneously with excitement.
"What's not to love about Desert Bluffs? It is a lovely community, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else. The food at the Sunlite All-Day Cafe is simply to die for. Oh, but not literally! They removed the dying option from the menu last week, which lots of people were pretty disappointed about. Personally, I'm a big fan of the petting zoo, it has got to be one of my favorite places. Really, The Bluffs leaves me with nothing to complain about- okay except for maybe the sun and the wind. But besides the weather-"
Both of them heard it: the soft tones of music playing in the distance. Kevin grimaced. "Ah....I didn't mean to do that."
A booming voice sounded from a helicopter above.
"Kevin! How many times do you need to be told that the public only needs one weather report per day!"
"Sorry! I said I didn't mean it!" He called back to what Cecil assumed was a Secret Police helicopter, but he found himself too stunned by what just happened to entertain that thought.
"Hey! We can hear your thoughts young man!" The voice snapped again from above, making Kevin squeak in surprise. He shot an apologetic look to the skies before turning his attention back to Cecil.
"Are you... did you just..." Cecil could barely get the words out, looking at the boy in front of him with a new fascination. This boy that looked just like him, wearing heart shaped sun glasses and sparkly leopard-print rainboots. Just how much did they have in common?
"Um, are you okay?" Kevin asked. The concern was probably understandable: Cecil could only imagine how insane he must have looked.
Instead of replying, he picked up his Little Reporter's Book of Big Boy Note Taking, presenting it to Kevin, searching his face for any recognition. As per his guess, Kevin's face immediately adopted Cecil's expression.
"You too?!" The boy opened his coat, revealing a book of similar dimension stuffed into a large inside pocket.
"I thought I was the only one!" Both teenagers said in unison, each awkwardly laughing at their synchronization.
The interview was long forgotten at this point. "Actually, today was my first day interning at the station." Cecil said with a smile.
"Really? Me too!" Kevin replied, grinning back at him.
***
There was something else there, though. Cecil could tell. It was the same mess of conflicted feelings he registered in Kevin's face earlier.
The next words out of his mouth only confirmed it.
"Are you alright though? Like...will you be alright?" There was genuine concern in Kevin's tone, and Cecil couldn't fathom where the sentiment was coming from.
"Like safety wise?"
"Yeah."
"Besides the natural danger that the station presents to everyone that enters it, I can't see a reason for me to worry. Thank you though, I guess?"
He purposefully worded the last sentence in a way to open conversation. Kevin didn't elaborate.
***
"Well, that's great then!" The odd expression had vanished again. "I'd imagine you had a pretty nifty sort of day!"
Cecil smirked, moving past the incident. "Well, you might call it that. I would call it neat."
Kevin giggled at their freshly formed inside joke. "Tell me about it?"
"No, you should go first!"
"Oh, no Cecil, I insist! You're technically a guest in our town!"
Although he wanted to continue to argue, the limits of Cecil's self restraint were short, at best: it didn't take a lot of convincing. That, and he had a feeling this boy actually wouldn't mind listening. Sometimes it felt like the people around him- including his closest friends- listened to his rambling with a feeling of suppressed impatience. Kevin, however, already seemed enraptured in his story, and Cecil hasn't even begun telling it.
"Okay, if you're sure! So when I first entered the station-"
"Hey, human."
The sound of a new voice made both boys spin around. A tall, winged being with a multitude of eyes and limbs hovered several inches over the ground, staring at the two of them. Half of their eyes were directed at Kevin, and half at Cecil.
"Oh wow!" Kevin exclaimed, staring at Erika with awe. "Are you an angel?"
Erika moved several more of their gazes towards him, doing what any angel would do in this situation: which was, of course, shrugging rather loudly with their wings.
"Yeah. Pretty cool of you to acknowledge that." They said with a small, approving nod. Within moments all of their eyes were fixed on Cecil. They did not look angry, and Cecil did not feel frightened: but something in their expression made him realize that his outing with Kevin would be coming to an abrupt end, right about now.
He sighed: just when he was about to tell his story. What rotten luck.
"I think they're here to take me home." Cecil reluctantly admitted to both Kevin and himself. "Does your family have a telephone? I'd like to keep in touch, if that's cool with you."
Kevin's eyes widened in surprise. "Um, yeah! We do. I'll probably be unavailable tonight, but you could try for tomorrow! Here, let me give you my number."
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his own reporter's note book. Both him and Cecil cringed slightly as he ripped a page out and scribbled down the digits. Despite being disturbing to any self-respecting-possible-future-Voice, the gesture was almost flattering, in a way- it must have meant that Kevin was excited to talk to him again. The feeling was definitely mutual. Somehow, Cecil felt like he had already known this boy for years, despite only meeting him several minutes ago. It was uncanny, and strange, and right.
"It's good timing, I should be headed home too," Kevin said, but in a voice that betrayed his desire to stay and chat. "I'm sure I'll talk to you again at some point in my life. Especially since you have my number now. So...until next time Cecil!"
"Goodnight!" He replied, giving a friendly, reluctant wave. The Erika placed a feathered hand over his shoulder, and Cecil looked back towards the swirling vortex.
"Once we get you back to town, I'm going to teleport you straight home, okay? Josie's orders and all." Erika said, guiding him to the portal.
Cecil nodded, but not without letting out a dramatic sigh first.
Before gathering his things and stepping back through the vortex, he took a moment to admire the setting sun. It was a perfect semicircle now: a burning red arc above the horizon, split seamlessly by the stretch of desert ahead.
Until next time, the sun seemed to say to the void as it departed on its journey to the other side of the Earth.
Goodnight, the void seemed to reply just as easily, and they slowly slipped past one another.
What a beautiful thing it is, to have a moment where you feel like you're in perfect equilibrium.