collection’s overall resale value. I sweep the over-stuffed shelves one last time, and as I turn around I notice a flyer sticking out from the middle of the last bookcase. The flyer’s color and sheen distinguish it from its surroundings. Printed on a glossy sheet in deep azure, and neatly inserted atop the book row, it looks brand new. “Closing time,” the clerk hollers. “One second!” I pull the flyer out and glimpse a word printed in a sleek, minimalist, white font: EQUIMEDIAN. Beneath it is a phone number. I fold it in four and stuff it in my pocket. I wend my way down the creaky staircase, both arms loaded, clutching the goods tightly to my chest to keep them from toppling over. As he rings me up, I take another look at the flyer. The word “Equimedian” sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before? Ah yes, Keshawn Lee. In the Custodians meeting he mentioned researching it at the Columbia University library. I deposit the flyer on the desk. “Do you know what this is?” “What?” asks the clerk. “No rebates or coupons, if that’s what you’re after.” “I found this among the stacks,” I say. “Congratulations.” “Looks brand new.” He continues with his arithmetic. “It wasn’t in the science fiction section when I went out for food. I would have noticed it. But it was there when I came back.” “You’re a regular Jules de Grandin.” “My point is that someone left this flyer here during the short time I was away.” “You do realize you’re not the only customer who’s been in here today, right?” His tone wordlessly adds “Thank God for that.” “Do you happen to remember who went upstairs when I was gone? I was away for maybe thirty-five minutes.” “No clue,” he says. “Try.” “I just did.” I wave at the cash register. “I’ll pay you twice whatever you were going to charge me if you try harder.” His forehead stiffens. “Sorry.” Defeated, I refold and repocket the flyer. He bags up my purchases, in a manner more haphazard than I’d like, and I pay and leave. Two subway lines later I’m back at the apartment. When I walk in Leon is standing at the edge of the kitchen. “Hey,” he says. “Hey.” “Wow.” He points at the bags. “And that is?” I stop. “None of your business.” He jeers and juts forward. “More books, isn’t it?” “Don’t worry about it,” I say. “Jason, I really don’t care what you read or how you spend your time,” he says. “But I am seriously concerned about the clutter. And the hygiene.” “I’ll have your rent on time,” I say. “What I do in my room is my concern.” I walk to my bedroom, set the bags down and close the door. I sit on my bed and catch my breath. I’m surprised by the apartment’s stillness. It’s gloomy. Invasive. The silence is loud. The trapdoor dreams float up to my consciousness and swim around in No. 122 my thoughts. To avoid them, I start unpacking my haul. The very first book I pick out of the bag has a gash in the cover that I could have sworn wasn’t there when I bought it. The next two paperbacks have obnoxious lime-colored price-stickers that I hadn’t noticed on the rear covers, which, as I find out by clawing at them, won’t come off without peeling away part of the book. The next stack of magazines is mostly okay, though they appear older and more frail than they looked under the Curio’s dim lights. I lay everything out on the bed and do a quick count: seventy-two paperbacks, six hardcovers, and forty-three back issues of rare magazines. I should be shivering with pleasure, with a sense of accomplishment, but as I take a cold, hard look at the display, I mumble, “This looks like a pile of trash.” What was I thinking? I grab a couple of items at random and hold them up to the light. The artwork hues and the aged tint of the pages seem to change before my eyes. I squint and look only through my good eye, the left one. My breath catches in my throat. The world looks slightly blurry. Recently I’ve been seeing these weblike “floaters” and there are more than the last time I checked. Holding the books up much closer, they finally resolve themselves into detail and texture. My eyesight appears to have worsened — a lot. Each thud of my heart tolls disappointment and self-chastisement. I feel myself slouch. I have barely enough willpower to slide all this junk off the bed and toss it into the bags in which I dragged it up here. I sit for a while, hearing things I don’t want to hear, whispers from the relentless demon of self-doubt. I turn off the lights and lie down, fully clothed, and something brushes against my right leg. I reach down and pull out a flyer from my pocket. Its surface shimmers. The letters on the flyer spelling out EQUIMEDIAN emit a faint light. The letters become bioluminescent creatures, roaming through the coral sea of my bed, swimming towards the island that is my life. The creatures lodge themselves in my mind. The phone number right below the word occupies me. Without turning on the light, I reach toward the phone on my night table. I dial the number. GET A COPY OF EQUIMEDIAN: HEXPUBLISHERS.COM | AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE ALVARO ZINOS-AMARO IS A HUGO- AND LOCUS-AWARD FINALIST WHO HAS PUBLISHED OVER FIFTY STORIES, AS WELL AS OVER A HUNDRED ESSAYS, REVIEWS, AND INTERVIEWS, IN A VARIETY OF PROFESSIONAL MAGAZINES AND ANTHOLOGIES. THESE VENUES INCLUDE ANALOG, BENEATH CEASELESS SKIES, GALAXY’S EDGE, NATURE, VASTARIEN: A LITERARY JOUÅVRNAL, THE LOS ANGELES REVIEW OF BOOKS, LOCUS, TOR.COM/REACTOR, STRANGE HORIZONS, THE YEAR’S BEST SCIENCE FICTION & FANTASY, CYBER WORLD, THIS WAY TO THE END TIMES, THE UNQUIET DREAMER, NOX PAREIDOLIA, THE BOOK OF EXTRAORDINARY FEMME FATALE STORIES, MULTIVERSES: AN ANTHOLOGY OF ALTERNATE REALITIES, AND MANY OTHERS. TRAVELER OF WORLDS: CONVERSATIONS WITH ROBERT SILVERBERG WAS PUBLISHED IN 2016 TO CRITICAL ACCLAIM. BEING MICHAEL SWANWICK, ALVARO'S SECOND BOOK OF INTERVIEWS, APPEARED IN 2023. EQUIMEDIAN IS ALVARO’S DEBUT NOVEL. HEX PUBLISHERS IS COLORADO’S INDEPENDENT PUBLISHING HOUSE PROUDLY SPECIALIZING IN GENRE FICTION: HORROR, SCIENCE FICTION, CRIME, DARK FANTASY, COMICS, AND ANY OTHER FORM THAT EXPLORES THE IMAGINATION. FOUNDED BY WRITERS, HEX VALUES BOTH THE AUTHOR AND THE READER, WITH AN EMPHASIS ON QUALITY, DIVERSITY, AND VOICES OFTEN OVERLOOKED BY THE MAINSTREAM.
25 Publizr Home