Silver Lining
Epilogue
One more screw tightened, one more valve in place, and one more hose patched. Kent Connolly had finally finished his back list of repairs for the memory loungers. The loungers were up and running and business could continue at Goodneighbor's Memory Den. Forlorn clients could return and drown their sorrows in something stronger than a drink from The Third Rail.
Kent had a lot of work ahead of him still if he wanted to get back on Irma's good side. It wasn't that she was mad at him. Irma could never stay mad at Kent for long. Of all the idiotic things he's done in that room, this one had to take the cake. But still, Irma found herself soften to him. She understood what longing for something that would never be again could do to a person. She had seen it on the monitors of the loungers of many a Ghoul, and even felt it herself at times.
After he finished fixing the wobbly leg on Irma's chaise lounge, Kent felt a deep sense of pride go through him. All of his back work was done. It reminded him so much of his time working maintenance in his apartment building before the war. That might have been why he never complained when Irma stirred him from a peaceful slumber in the wee hours of the morning when a late night client's lounger broke or when the ancient plumbing in Doctor Amari's lab sprang a leak.
Irma smiled when Kent put the last of his tools away. She was considering this question, hoping it wasn't in bad taste to ask so soon. It had been about a week since Kent finally emerged from his room and started back to work, but she knew how sensitive he could be.
"Good work, Kent." Irma said, in her deep, sultry voice. "Are you feeling any better now, dear?"
Kent stood up and sighed, but he still smiled. "For a guy that's had his dreams crushed, been kidnapped by r-raiders, had his knee banged up, and nearly shot in the head, I think I'm doing pretty good."
Irma played with the feathers at the end of her left sleeve. Kent still stood there, he had a feeling she wanted to ask more. Irma cleared her throat. "I've noticed you haven't been in your lounger lately. Amari thinks it might be broken. Is it?"
Of course, this was a silly question. Irma had Amari put a special lock on his lounger when he was out fixing another lounger. Irma felt a week would be good time to get his head straight, and even though the week was up and Amari took the lock off, Kent's lounger still remained cold.
Kent shook his head. "No, it's not. I just haven't been using it lately." Kent faced Irma and gave her a sad smile. "I've learned a few things from that whole f-fiasco with Sinjin and the Silver Shroud. In the loungers, you can relive the past, but you can't change it. Sure, I can get in my lounger, I can think of the old days, and feel happy for a little bit. But I can't change it. If I could, I'd h-hug my brother one more time and thank him for always having my back. Or I'd give Hannah one more k-kiss while I stared into her beautiful blue eyes. But I can't do those things. I can't shake my brother's hand or hold Hannah in my arms. I can't bring them back. But I know they're still with me in one form or another. And I know neither one would want me feeling sorry for myself. My brother, Buster, told me I had to survive, and even though I did, along the way I forgot how to live. I wanted other people to live my life for me while I drowned my sorrows in a dream. It's not fair to the people I care about. You, Doc Amari, the Shroud, and everyone else. I can't just merely survive anymore. I have to live."
Irma nearly teared hearing him say that. She took out a dirty silk handkerchief and dotted the bottoms of her eyes. Make-up was hard to come by, and she didn't want hers to run. "Oh, Kent, you big sweety." Irma cooed, giving him a short hug. "Some people never learn that lesson, which is why they keep coming back here and why I keep increasing the price. Speaking of which, Amari and I think you've earned a small raise for all the hard work you've done recently. And though she's against it, we've also decided to let you have an extra hour in your lounger from now on when you're done with your daily duties."
Kent smiled, thanked Irma, and went to his room. Irma crossed her arms and sat back down on the lounger. She remembered the day he walked in with that group of ghouls looking for work. He seemed amazed by the technology behind the memory loungers and Irma was happy when he told her the repairs were surprisingly simple. She looked at Kent, with his bag overflowing with old comic books and ads ripped off buildings and a box of busted holotapes under one arm and knew he'd be sticking around. Irma often thought she regretted letting him stay in the side room with the broken lounger she could never get fixed. But he did such good work, she had to get him to stay when his traveling companions left. She couldn't afford not to. Irma never thought she'd come to care about Kent so much. If she wasn't in such a need for a handyman, she would have thrown him out when he tried to get some extra time in the lounger.
In his room, with the door closed, Kent sat on his bed. Kent decided not to do a broadcast tonight. He turned his little set-up loop off and tried to relax. He thought about the memory lounger he'd talked Irma into letting him have but for the first time since he repaired it and set it up in his room, the lounger didn't look appealing at all. It had gotten quiet and Kent could hear a storm starting outside. He had promised Irma that once he scrounged enough materials, he'd fix the leaks in the roof. He had his other radio tuned to Diamond City Radio for once and was listening to a slow crooning number.
Kent held his knees close after slipping off his shoes. He looked up at his radio, with the picture of him and Buster sitting on top. His pictures of him and Hannah were now taped to the frame. Kent picked up the picture and smiled down at it. One good thing about being a Ghoul, he noted, was that he no longer needed haircuts. He had avoided it so much before the war. He looked at his pictures with Hannah. Her smile, her hopeful eyes, everything.
"Hannah…" Kent started. "…I think about you and Buster every day. It may not mean much now, but I miss you. I got so lost in trying to be the hero I wanted to be that I couldn't make myself think about you when I was in the loungers. No, that's too convenient. Amari and Irma see everything in the loungers. I guess I wanted to keep you all to myself. The world knows about how bad I screwed up recently and how much of a doofus I can be. But to you and Buster, I could be anything. One of the b-best things to happen to me was meeting you. Wherever you are, please be at p-peace. And know that I still love you, even after all these years. One of these days, I won't be able to cheat death anymore. My number will come up, and then all three of us will be together again. But until then, I've decided to not just survive, but to live. For you, for me, for Buster. For everyone that meant something to me in the past."
With the night came the rain. The rain would wash away the dust and in the morning, the sun would shine. Kent was content with this. Kent hugged his picture and laid back on his bed. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. He didn't need a memory lounger to remember her face. He didn't need one to remember his brother. The good times, the bad, and the worst, all inside Kent's head where it belonged. His memories were his own.
Maybe, deep down, he realized he didn't need the Memory Loungers anymore. Or the Silver Shroud, for that matter. Maybe he didn't have to rely on costumed crusaders in capes with fancy weapons to swoop in and rescue him. Kent had survived over two hundred years, maybe he can go another two hundred without something going completely wrong.
Perhaps, Kent Connolly; Ghoul, comic book enthusiast, universal handyman, and radio host could be his own hero for a change. It sometimes takes nearly dying to realize one's true potential and Kent knew his.
Maybe this entire debacle had a silver lining after all…
And that, my loves, was "Silver Lining".
Written with love by Luna Peachie.
Read, review, and be merry.
Kent Connolly and Fallout belong to Bethesda.
