The Glassman

The Glassman

MultiMind

This is entirely a work of fiction. The characters, events, and locations in this work are inspired either directly or indirectly but are in no way related to actual locales, entities, events, and/or people, living or dead, nor should be inferred.

Copyright © 2021 by MultiMind

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review or proper fair use.

Fragmented M logo is a trademark of MultiMind Publishing.

LR/Lumination Rising logo is a trademark under MultiMind Publishing.

For more information, e-mail: [email protected]

First paperback edition, September 2023

First e-book edition, September 2023

Cover design by Ejiwa Ebenebe

Edited by Ja’el Knotts

ISBN 978-1-952860-10-2 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-952860-11-9 (e-book)

ISBN 978-1-952860-12-6 (audiobook)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2022908004

www.multimindpublishing.com

Acknowledgment

To my favorite band - hopefully this doesn’t make things weird.

This book is partially funded by the Maryland State Arts Council creativity grant.

A special thank you to Lisa Marbel, thank you for being so kind.

Perry, I wish you got to read the whole book before you passed – but I am glad you liked the beginning.

Content Warning:

• Depression/Trauma

• Suicidal Ideation/Self-Harm

The Glassman

Part One:  The Existence

In a future not far from our present day, things have changed. Summers are hotter. Days are hazier in the city of San Diego. In the home of Jacob Mars Juarez, the morning light rose away from his bedroom window as the sun further ascended, waking him no earlier than anyone else naturally would on his street.

He opened his brown eyes, the open windows stood before him as the waft of the waking city ebbed through the gathered lace of the copper curtains. The curtains swayed lazily at the gathers in the soft wind on that gentle humid day. His eyes then fell upon the curly, russet hair of his wife, Danielle Juarez. The white cover had drifted from her bare, dark gold shoulder in the night. The strap of her black tank top nestled against her neck as she slumbered. From the feel of the room and how tucked her head was in the pillow, he surmised she cried herself to sleep for another night that week.

Mars lifted the covers slightly to check for any abrasions or cuts he may have caused her or any possible evidence left between them. Nothing but the shadow of space between them. A good sign.

Danielle stirred gently and opened her auburn eyes to the chattering birds sitting outside the window, just out of view. She felt the crisp dryness of her eyes. Flashes of last night came to her, muffled sobbing resounding in her ears. She willed the sorrowful memories away and settled herself better. She could feel her husband behind her, his back against hers. Danielle closed her eyes to wait for any prick or sting to greet her. Nothing but the heat of her husband and his gaze as he turned over to her. She loved him dearly, but now she feared the morning she would wake at the pearly gates.

Mars felt a light ebb of joy deep within. For yet another night, his wife still slept beside him. That she still loved him despite his changes. Some days, he wished she would leave him and take their children, Vivica and Violet, with her to a life anew. It would pain him greatly, yes, but at least he would know that they were safe at least. Not a day went by that he didn’t think of Dao, his bassist and longtime friend. Mars would never forgive himself if he did the same to his beloved family.

It was an accident! Mars quickly defended to himself. Thoughts flooded back to San Diego Rivers Memorial Hospital as he blinked away tears. Why, why did I survive? Just like every day, the haunting thought returned. Ever since he woke up in the hospital, such awful thoughts and wonders visited him day after day, relentless and pervasive. I should be dead.

Danielle turned carefully to her husband, sure to catch a piece of glass in the act, maybe. She looked at his forlorn face. The same face that still warmed her with its wonderful brown sienna chilled her to the core all the same. She smiled at him.

Morning, she softly greeted.

Mars looked up at her. Her face always reminded him every day that perhaps life could still be worth living. He returned her smile weakly.

Morning, he mumbled sleepily. Mars remembered how Danielle would comb her gentle fingers through his long, reddish-black dreadlocks as his eyes adored her face. What bliss seeing that face had brought him through all the eleven years they had been together. He wanted to caress her cheek but dared not to.

Reminding her arm to keep close, Danielle gazed upon Mars playfully. She asked, How are you feeling?

The question was like a soft blade on a vital vein, it stung Mars so. He used to hide it so well, but his cape of illusion had worn quite threadbare by now.

His eyes fell askance. Okay, I guess, he murmured.

Danielle assured him, ‘Okay’ is good.

A

Breakfast was served and Mars prepared to go to work - or, as Mars saw it now: the worst part of the day. He wore his tahms more often now since Dao’s incident. He wore a navy and black tahm today, bloated with his thick, hip-length dreads. It matched his black basketball jersey from Mindware and dark blue canvas shorts. Mars grabbed his keys off the table next to the glass-paned door as the rest of his family prepared for a new day of elementary school in the back bedroom Vivica and Violet shared. He could hear light fussing waft out the door as there was a small squabble over shoes Danielle tried to quell. Mars stopped short of placing the keys in his pocket. Mars just couldn’t go. He couldn’t harm another. Moving through the world felt cold and alone but, he sighed to himself: there was no other way.

Danielle came out from their daughters’ bedroom to get an apple from the dining table, she needed a quick break from the early morning chaos. Instead, she found Mars standing there in front of their door, gaze tossed to the wooden floor, arms limp and keys loosely cupped in his hands. Mars, she thought mournfully as she started towards him, her slippered feet padding across the floor.

Hearing his name being lightly called, Mars looked up at his wife behind him. She held his hand and touched his face, forgetting her precautions. Mars, you have to get to work, babe. You can’t stay here all day. She curled his thicker hands into hers and held it to her heart. We’ll all see you tonight. Have a great day at the studio. Danielle pecked Mars on the cheek. She wished for his lips but it was too much of a risk.

Mars wanted the same. There was so much he wanted but so little he could have now. Even the grasp of a hand ached his heart, how long it had been since he had much more than that.

Danielle turned around to go back to the girls’ room. She was sure there was more chaos in her absence, she could hear playing. Mars wrapped his heavily tattooed arms around her neck and waist in desperate comfort. It caught Danielle off-guard. Her face blanked with panic but Mars couldn’t help but to hold her tight and mutter to her, I’m sorry, I just really love and miss your embrace. I feel so alone. I need you. His face nestled into her shoulder and against her neck.

Danielle felt abysmal and torn. She didn’t want to get nicked or worse, suffer a fatal slip – but the forced distance, it bred nothing but clanging loneliness. She relaxed herself, she tried to. Danielle missed the comforting touch of her husband. She could tell that he missed her more. His arms wrapped around her closer, tighter.

I love you, too, she replied softly.

The moment passed, quiet and calm. Then Mars’ arms started to feel … jagged.

His skin jutted and moved, as if rumbling rocks rolled underneath his tattooed skin. They sharpened and jumbled about, biting into her skin.

Mars? She choked as she grew into a gasping panic. Danielle tapped his arm fervently as she tried to keep her voice low so the girls wouldn’t hear, "Mars."

He held on, Mars couldn’t bear to let go. It had been too long since he’s felt her touch-

Danielle wrenched herself away from her husband. She tried to hold in her sniffles, her eyes filled with hot tears. She stared at him with the fear she hated. Again, distance was between them.

Mars’ skin settled. Another surge, another day. He couldn’t control them, he barely knew how. Or even if he could. The fear in her eyes stung him like ice, he turned his head away. A small surge rolled about underneath his skin in simmering spurts until they quelled into nothing.

Danielle tried to blink back the tears but more came instead. It wasn’t on purpose, she tried to remind herself. Mars didn’t mean it. It’s not his fault. Not his fault. She knew Mars didn’t ask for this, for what he changed into. But still she kicked herself: just had to slip back to normal again, that she could be comfortable again, that she could let her guard down again. Even the best days felt like the worst and she hated every minute of it. She remembered what she promised back when Mars was in the hospital, We’ll make the best of it, honey. We’re all going to get through this. You, me, and the girls. No one said this was going to be fair. Then again, almost no one knew anything about Mars’ new condition.

I’m – I’m fine, Danielle sniffed. She quickly wiped away her tears. Hon-honestly, Mars. I’m fine. Her throat and hips still burned with the shadows of his surging touch. How sharp everything became. "It’s fine. You’re fine." She padded forward to hold his hands, just like she always would, but stopped short.

Her words rang hollow to Mars. Memories of Dao bleeding out on the studio floor flooded in. How the bassist clutched his face, how the blood smeared over everything as it dripped from his deep mahogany skin. Dao’s cries of mercy and fear filled Mars’ ears. Mars couldn’t break from the guilt, the wild stare Dao shot him with his remaining eye wouldn’t leave him. A loose thought sailed across his mind, I did it again. He glanced at his wife, her feigned smile and fearful eyes. All my doing.

Mars mumbled out a feeble apology as he clutched his keys and left. He tried not to slam the door.

A

A heavy jam session was underway in the decorative studio, tucked away deep in a distant corner of Mindware’s storage warehouse. Mindware was a local store for skaters and trick bike riders. They were the first supporters of the band playing in their studio, Lumination Rising.

It was only the guitarist, Isaiah Corbin, and drummer, Alvin ‘Amos’ Zavala, also Mars’ cousin. Amos and Isaiah created Lumination Rising back when they were in high school during lunch one day and stuck together since. The music that grooved in the studio was moving but with Dao out, it failed to thrive without their low-end anchor. Amos and Isaiah tried their best to make up for the absence, but it wasn’t the same. No one to joke about how little energy drinks were part of the meager budget of their second proper album. No one there to show a new card trick they picked up. No silly antics, nothing. The studio had less life. The doctors said Dao would be back and playing in three more weeks, maybe a little sooner. His right eye was healing fine and he was lucky to only have a nick to his jugular instead of a whole sever but he would forever suffer blindness. Despite such news, Dao seemed to improve in spirits in each video call he had with Amos and Isaiah. Amos wanted Mars to be part of the calls but Isaiah always refused the idea, he figured it was smarter to leave Mars out. Unfortunately, Isaiah was right, Dao avoided any subject to do with Mars and the scars he would bear forever from his brow to his neck. Every time the conversation steered towards Mars, Dao would do anything to steer it away.

Mars sometimes would attend the video calls, mostly by accidentally walking in on them. Every time, Mars and Dao would exchange polite pleasantries but not much else. Mars had to work to be involved in any video conversation. Phone calls were shorter and texts sometimes