4 - Dakarai/New Tab/

I slam the pile of newspapers down on my desk, ¨This doesn’t make any sense!¨

My girlfriend, Ja´Hira, speaks through my phone, ¨Dude, this isn’t even a school thing, you´ve got time.¨

I collapse back into my swivel chair and look at the mess before me. My small work desk is crowded with newspapers, records, CD disks, and my Chromebook full of tabs encasing news reports, birth certificates, and anything I could find.¨Yeah, that is my problem here.¨

¨Dak, it´s late you’ve got to get some rest,¨ she offers.

I smile,¨You say that like you´re not the sleep-deprived one.¨

Ja´Hira chuckles through the phone, ¨Shut it, you fool. I know you care about this, but you can´t pull another all-nighter trying to figure this out.¨

¨But, I´ve got to figure this out, you know that.¨

¨Alright…but you’ve only been looking into the declining health of these old people for only three days. You can´t expect to already have the answer.¨

I start to nervously bounce my leg up and down, ¨And you´re right, way too right. I should at least have a lead, or--or just something. I´ve looked everywhere, positively everywhere. There have been 10 teachers across this district who died. 10 teachers!? All deaths were related to the same thing! And, it only started this month.¨ I pause and recollect myself, only to continue to spiral.

¨I´ve looked into whether or not these deaths, as they were all caused by sickness, were connected to something in the ozone or anything like that. But, no, nothing. The air purity isn’t the best, but it never has been. I´ve even looked into Zodiacs, it’s November, so that means Scorpio and Sagittarius babies are popping up. But no, I can’t find anything.¨

¨And all of these teachers were perfectly healthy, right?¨

¨Yes! According to their medical records, they hadn’t admitted there was something wrong till two weeks before their death. All of them had that exact statement.¨ I take a deep breath and continue to ramble on to my girlfriend. ¨Look, it´s all the press has been bussing about. Even though the teachers, per usual, haven’t said a word. We´re lucky enough to not have lost a teacher yet. But, as the one who runs the school paper, I feel I have to bring it up. At least once. Not just because that´s what the people want, but…I think I want this too.¨

I hear her shudder, choosing her words closely, ¨But you want to be difficult. Which is all cool. But when you could easily just overlook your info, and just record that this has all happened; you want to actually get to the bottom of this.¨

I bite down on my tongue, realizing how stupid I must sound, ¨I know, I know it sounds crazy-¨

¨Dude, no. That sounds awesome,¨

I smile, ¨You know you don’t have to say that.¨

I hear her chuckle warmly. ¨Oh. Pah-lease, if I could make fun of you, I would. Plus, you said that the press was also all over this too, right? And as I´ve been looking through all of these articles with you-they all go over the same, boring, thing. What you are doing, is different.¨

I huff. ¨Wooooh! I´m as special as a snowflake!¨

I reach for my slim laptop and place it on my lap. I opened a new tab. Only allowing my mind to buzz and buzz. I don’t think I could ever bring myself to admit it to my girlfriend, or to anyone for that matter. But I was burnt out. I was exhausted. I try to figure out what to fill the new tab with. Birth certificates, maybe scanning the ISD websites for the 5th time, anything.

But here’s something I’ve learned about getting what you want and doing it right. There are always two guys. Both are exhausted. They have so much more to do with their lives. But they are here, working. As they are both tired, one man goes to bed. He sleeps throughout the night. But the other man doesn't go to sleep. He works.

These two men, who live in the same metaphorical world, living the same life live two very different fates. The first one wakes up to a pile of work. And now that he has this lazy mindset drilled into him, he will continue this. Therefore, the project will be continued another night, started another morning, and submitted after far too many days. But the other man, he had it done by that morning.

But here’s the thing. The one thing that two metaphorical, fake, dream, men have one thing in common. Their habits and their actions aren't healthy. And that’s what Ja’Hira focuses on. Especially knowing that I am the second man. The one who works.

¨Dakarai. Look, what I’m trying to say is that what you want is answers, in a sea of nothing but articles just stating the information. So yes, people need to know what happened, but it takes someone to truly understand that people need an answer. You need an answer.¨

I blink and bite down a smile. But I know better than that. I know better than to let myself dream too intensely. Because, in my life, dreamers either work towards their dreams; or get lost in a false reality. In simpler terms, dreamers are lost, men. We all work ourselves to death eventually, dreamers don't know how to accept that.

¨But, I´m not there yet. And I don´t know how to get there. If I were to have heightened my IQ in my younger years, started on this case earlier, or anything; maybe I could have had all of it figured out. For both myself and the people.¨

The new tab bar still remains blank.

“You’re right, aren’t you? You aren’t there. And this happens every single time, Dak. You-we both know this. Cramming information in your brain when you’re beyond overstimulated, beyond exhausted, beyond anything; is not going to do anything.”

“You’re a stubborn mule, have I ever told you that?”

She continues, “Look, let’s figure something out. What if you worked on parts of your research in chunks….in pieces?”

I perk up, finally looking away from my new tab, still empty. “Enlighten me.”

“Well…work with me here. What if you actually take an hour or two to yourself? We can stay on the phone if you want that since we both won't be sleeping.”-we both chuckle, like a couple in a 1980’s sitcom- “I don't care. Watch a movie-or ooh! You said you wanted to bake cookies after you found that recipe today, right? Just go ahead and do that for a good 2/3 hours. Then dedicate another 2/3 hours to research. You go back and forth.”

I have to admit. The idea was appealing. God, I love this girl.

She’s typically that rough, protective friend that’ll sick Skittles up her nose or run into some stupid fight. But, she’s commonly misread as a girl that doesn't have a vulnerable side, and could never care for anyone deeply. But I know far too well, that’s so far from the truth. I’ve known her since 4th grade, we’re freshmen now. Knowing this, I’ve seen her soft side, but also being her boyfriend has shown me that side of her too.

But, with her I know I have to be careful. She typically doesn't show the side that will drive over to your place late at night to comfort you, the side that will stay up with me on the phone on the nights I can’t sleep, fuss over every small scrape I get or when I study way too long often. So I have to be accepting and respecting of this side of her, knowing that it takes a lot of her to show this to me.

Like, what she’s doing for me right now. Staying up, making sure that 1. I’m not lonely, 2. And that I don’t fall slave to my horrible study habits. With anyone else, she would maybe text them throughout the night but that’s still much. But, she’s been getting more comfortable expressing this side around me, and I’m really, truly proud of my best friend. God, now I know what she means when she says I talk like a “cheesy therapist”.

“Dak-you zoning out again? Dakkkkaraiiiiiiiiiiiiiii???? Is Clifford biting you again?”

“I’m still here, and how dare you bring my little-smoopsy dog into this?!”

“No, how could I not? You swear he’s sweet, but you yelped like a little girl last time he had gnawed on your ankles.”

I cross my arms and exclaim, “He IS sweet. And that was one time-”

She cut me off, “Dude, it happens every time I come over.”

“Shhhhh. And she’s a cutie pie, especially to my mom. Even though it was she who had chosen to name a small, bug-eyed chihuahua after a huge, red dog.”

“Hey, Mrs. T is a badass. I don’t think that dog could ever be mean to her if she tried.”

I smile and rest my head in my arms, right next to my phone. Right next to Ja’Hira. “True that.

I can hear her chuckle warmly, “Anyways…are you going to try my ugh…proposition out?”

“It’s not a bad idea, I’ve got to admit. I’ll try it out tonight, let’s see how this works out, no harm in the trial, right?”

She lets out a huff of relief, “Thank Gods. I was on the verge of googling some shit to hypnotize you so you could take a break.”

I shut off my Chromebook, stuff my phone in my jeans pocket, and make my way out of my room. “And where would you pull all of that, BuzzFeed or Wikipedia this time?”

She laughs as I make my way into the kitchen.

Even though everything in me is telling me to run back over to my desk and work, I keep walking. Because, a bit of me wants to fight against everything I know, and he is trying to tell me that this is for the best. But, here’s the thing. I’m trying to not be the working man for 2/3 hours. I’m trying to be the man who is giving himself a break. But, I cannot make this a habit. Because although the relaxed man sounds better and more appealing; you must always remember that neither position is healthier for the other.

“This isn’t what I want for you. And yet, you know this. Why must you continue this behavior?”