Head In The Stars

Aron led the way and brought us to the door of one of the shipping containers.

"This here's the back entrance to the dorms," he said. "The official entrance is through the station, but this way's more convenient."

"Are the containers an aesthetic choice?" I asked.

Aron laughed. "A monetary choice," he said. "It's an old station, built ages ago, and there's nowhere for it to grow except out this way."

He opened the door and we all went inside.

Inside the shipping container there was still a strong industrial vibe from the corrugated walls and ceiling, but everything from the faux wood flooring to the sofa by the door gave it a homey feel.

Portions of the walls had been brought down between containers and melded together to form a hallway that Aron led us down.

I hastened to walk in step with him. "Are you use it's alright for us to stay here?"

I'd been okay with asking Aron for a place to stay in the abstract but now that it was becoming a very real reality, I felt myself seizing up, becoming constricted, getting uncomfortable.

"Sure," was Aron's easy reply. "But," he pulled out a scrap of paper from his wallet, "I knew you'd worry so I got written permission from the dorm manager."

He handed me the paper and I saw that it did indeed have a signature on it.

"Happy?" he asked with a playful smile. We'd stopped in front of two sets of doors.

"I just hope we're not causing too much trouble..."

"Who's the troublemaker?"

We turned and saw that the door on the right had opened and a woman in casual dress was standing in it.

"Oh good, you're here," said Aron. "Lachlan, Millie, this is Chau Yuetling. She also lives fulltime at the dorm."

The woman beamed in recognition of our names and gave a little wave. She had short hair and an energetic bounce to her movements.

"I was Aron's classmate. We graduated the same year, and both got posted here."

She crouched so that she was at eye level with Millie. "Want to see where you'll be sleeping?" she asked.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll show you." Chau Yuetling held the door open to let Millie past then followed her in. "Keep going to the end then turn right."

"We're through this way," said Aron as he opened the other door. "After this I'll show you the communal kitchen and things. It's separate from the canteen kitchen and anyone can use it."

"Aren't you busy?" I asked.

"Nah, I'm off duty right now. My shift's not until later," he said as he walked.

I followed him. Along the hallway were more doors with numbers and names on them. Aron went to the second of these and opened it.

"It's four to a room and we had one spare."

Like Aron said, there were two bunkbeds, one on either side of the container and a pair of wardrobes nestled at the end just shy of blocking the single window of the room. It was small and cramped but also lived in and... warm.

"It's a bit small," Aron said apologetically. "I hope you don't mind."

"I don't mind at all," I said truthfully. It had been years since I'd lived with anyone and wasn't sure how I'd fare, but standing there, I somehow felt that everything would be fine.

"Not everyone stays here fulltime. Most people only sleep in the dorms if they're working overtime or got a night shift. Just me, Chau Yuetling and one other guy really live here."

"Why is that?" I asked as I walked to the window to peer out. I could see the parking lot and my van.

"Seem's a waste if I can still live with my parents," said Aron, "But they live too far for me to commute in every day."

I cast my mind back to high school. Hadn't I gone to Karl's home before? I asked Aron.

"You did," he replied. "You and two other guys visited during the summer holidays. I'd just finished my first year of middle school."

I couldn't help smiling. "You remember it so clearly."

"Of course, actually, I wanted to ask you something..."

"Yes?" Oh no, was it going to be about dinner again?

"Aron! Is this the guy?" came a booming voice.

The door of the room swung open and a surprisingly skinny guy in uniform came in. He walked toward me and eyed me like some kind of inspector.

"Why are you still here?" asked Aron. He sounded annoyed.

"Yuetling said your friend was here, so I wanted to get a look," this newcomer said. Was I the new park attraction?

"Hello," I said.

Aron came over and pushed his friend back towards the door. "This is Lo Gaming," he said to me. "He's on the crime investigation squad."

"I have the job he wants," said Gaming, pointing at Aron.

Aron shoved him.

"You want to be on the crime investigation squad?" I asked. Had he mentioned that before? I wasn't sure.

"Of course," Aron said. "Who doesn't?"

TV shows featuring police officers basically only revolved around criminal investigations, murders, kidnappings, the like, so when put that way, then yeah, who wouldn't want to be on the squad?

"Lachlan!"

Now that voice I knew.

The door to the room blasted open again and Millie came bounding in.

"Let's go have lunch! Yuetling said they have a canteen here and it's free of charge!"

Ah, the little girl had grown up and started worrying about money. Was this my fault?

"I'm off then," said Gaming. "Make yourself at home, Lachlan!" He clapped me on the shoulder.

"Thank you," I said.

"Lunch, lunch, lunch," chanted Millie as she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door.

I turned to Aron.

"What did you want to ask?"

He shook his head. "I'll ask you later."

For me, it was still early in the day and, to be honest, my body hadn't finished waking up yet. So, while Millie wolfed down a bowl of congee, I just sat and looked around the canteen.

Aron had been right about the station being small. The canteen was only big enough to allow for two long tables that could sit about a dozen people each if you really tried. At the end opposite the door, was the door to the canteen's kitchen and a large window that allowed food to be easily passed through to the main hall. Aron said that there was always at least one person on duty at any given moment to cook something up for whoever needed it.

I hadn't really thought about it, but the logistics of running a police station must be hell.

After lunch, I grabbed some clothes for Millie and myself from the van then, after showering, Millie had a nap in her new bed, while Aron made good on his promise and showed me the communal kitchen. It was newer looking than the kitchen at the weather station but less used which I guessed should be expected given how convenient the canteen seemed to be.

When Aron's shift started, I went outside to my van.

I'd done some organising this morning before Aron had come to get us but it had still been ages since I'd done a proper go over. Besides, it's not like I had anything better to do.

And I needed some time away from people.

I've never thought myself as an antisocial person but today had taught me that my tolerance for being around other people had dwindled dramatically since I dropped out of university. So much so that it frightened me a little. I'd met fewer than a handful of people, yet I was panicky during it and exhausted afterwards.

But what could I do?

Exactly. Nothing. So, I put it out of my mind and started going through the van, pulling out and setting aside things I thought might be useful in the short term. This was mainly clothes, charging cables, toiletries, things like that.

As a grabbed two bags down from the netting on the ceiling that acted as storage my hand brushed against my guitar.

Last night I'd shoved it up there behind the bags not wanting to look at it but now I brought it down.

I looked it up and down and ran my fingers along its body. Nothing had been damaged. The string had just snapped on its own which guitar strings sometimes did. When had I changed them last? I couldn't remember.

I grabbed my mini toolbox from under the bed and pulled out some pliers and carefully removed the broken string.

Just a few days ago I'd tried setting pencil to paper again for the first time in forever to see if there was still a song in me yet, that was the notebook Kai had found at the station, but I needn't have bothered.

There was nothing. There would now always be nothing.

I carefully slid the guitar back into the netting.