Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“How’s work?” Bram asked as they walked toward the Purcells’ house.
“Good. I got a new assignment today. A pet store in Cheyenne.”
Bram always tread lightly when asking about Zachary’s job. It was clear that he valued the structure and schedule of work very much, and didn’t enjoy it being interrupted or challenged. More frustrating, though, was his valorization of a company that clearly didn’t value his artistic innovation just because it was prestigious. Bram knew that he’d been raised with a huge advantage: he’d never learned to esteem things just because they had cachet. In fact, he’d been raised to question what such value was based in. Spoiler alert: if you traced it back far enough, it was always either money or exclusivity. Usually both.
So when Zachary said things like “they’re the premier architecture firm in the Midwest,” what Bram heard was, “they make a lot of money and pay a lot of money so there’s competition to work there.” Which simply boiled down to money = value, an equation he just didn’t subscribe to. And he didn’t really think Zachary cared about money, beyond having enough to pay his rent and buy the art supplies that he used for his Halloween displays. So he was fairly sure that what Zachary actually valued was other people’s estimation of his job. What he wasn’t sure of yet was whether Zachary cared what people thought (he didn’t seem to in most other contexts) or had simply internalized the message of what success looked like at an early age like so many people and was now living out the results.
The latter seemed far more likely to Bram, and he wondered if this performance of career success helped Zachary offset the varying degrees of negative feedback he got for his social demeanor.
He hadn’t wanted to bring up any of this, even though Zachary so clearly wasn’t happy doing all the boring projects that he got assigned, because he’d seemed offended when Bram had asked why he didn’t look for a position that would value his creativity more.
So instead, he said, “That’s cool. What kind of design does the pet store need?”
For a moment, there was a flare in Zachary’s eyes and Bram could practically see the weird, fascinating creation that Zachary had dreamed up. But then it died, and he said, “It’s a pretty basic design. The trick is figuring out how to maximize savings by designing a space that will minimize materials and still give the client the square footage they’ve requested.”
It caused him nearly physical pain to watch Zachary’s skills and creativity wasted on these boxes that anyone could design.
“Oh. Cool,” was all Bram said.
Fortunately, they were approaching the Purcells’ house, and Bram led them across the street, where he knelt beside Hemlock as if they were just paused to give her a little rest and sniff.
Mr. Purcell came out of the house, saw them, and waved. Bram and Zachary waved back, and Mr. Purcell made a show of flipping the switch on his Halloween lights and then lifting his hands as if he were god giving light to the world.
Only it wasn’t his orange and black Halloween lights that went on—it was red and green Christmas lights.
Mr. Purcell stood frozen for a moment, looking utterly flummoxed. He looked up at the sky, as if searching for snow, and Bram could practically see him wondering if he’d lost three months and it actually was Christmas.
Then he spun in a circle, saw Bram and Zachary, and simply said, “Hey!”
Bram and Zachary dissolved into laughter, draping over one another. Hem nuzzled them both, delighted by this display.
“You—What did—How the hell did—What?” he sputtered.
Bram cleared his throat and they approached. From his pocket, Bram took a note and handed it to Mr. Purcell with ceremony.
“Your Halloween lights will be returned when you gift a neighbor with a lighthearted Halloween prank,” Mr. Purcell read.
“I like that you added ‘lighthearted,’” Zachary snorted.
The idea to turn his and Zachary’s prank war into a chance for them to be a team had struck him the moment he saw the Purcells’ lights. He’d been surprised that Zachary kept it going after they were...whatever they were—a couple? And he’d relished the chance to collaborate that the lights had presented, rather than having to say, Hey, now that we’re having sex and hanging out maybe we could stop pranking each other?
“Well,” Bram said, “a prank is fun if it’s lighthearted. If it’s mean then it’s no fun at all.”
For a moment it looked like Mr. Purcell might decide that none of this was fun. But then he looked around his yard at the Christmas lights in exactly the same places the Halloween lights were, as if they’d transformed overnight, and started to chuckle.
“Damn, how’d you boys pull that off?” Then he called, “Miriam, come out and take a look at this,” and his wife poked her head out the door.