Neptune

Mateo

1:06 a.m.

I'm back in my bedroom—so much for never returning here again—and I

immediately feel better, like I just got an extra life in a video game where

the final boss was kicking my ass. I'm not naive about dying. I know it's

going to happen. But I don't have to rush into it. I'm buying myself more

time. A longer life is all I've ever wanted, and I have the power to not shoot

that dream in the foot by walking out that front door, especially this late at

night.

I jump into bed with the kind of relief you only find when you're

waking up for school and realize it's Saturday. I throw my blanket around

my shoulders, hop back on my laptop, and—ignoring the email from Death-

Cast with the time-stamped receipt of my call with Andrea—continue

reading yesterday's CountDowners post from before I got the call.

The Decker was twenty-two-year-old Keith. His statuses didn't provide

much context about his life, only that he'd been a loner who preferred runs

with his golden retriever Turbo instead of social outings with his

classmates. He was looking to find Turbo a new home because he was

pretty sure his father would give ownership of Turbo to the first available

person, which could be anyone because Turbo is so beautiful. Hell, I

would've adopted him even though I'm severely allergic to dogs. But

before Keith gave up his dog, he and Turbo were running through their

favorite spots one last time and the feed stopped somewhere in Central

Park.

I don't know how Keith died. I don't know if Turbo made it out alive or

if he died with Keith. I don't know what would've been preferred for Keith

or Turbo. I don't know. I could look into any muggings or murders in

Central Park yesterday around 5:40 p.m., when the feed stopped, but for my

sanity this is better left a mystery. Instead I open up my music folder and

play Space Sounds.

A couple years ago some NASA team created this special instrument to

record the sounds of different planets. I know, it sounded weird to me too,

especially because of all the movies I've watched telling me about how

there isn't sound in space. Except there is, it just exists in magnetic

vibrations. NASA converted the sounds so the human ear could hear them,

and even though I was hiding out in my room, I stumbled on something

magical from the universe—something those who don't follow what's

trending online would miss out on. Some of the planets sound ominous, like

something you'd find in a science fiction movie set in some alien world

—"alien world" as in world with aliens, not non-Earth world. Neptune

sounds like a fast current, Saturn has this terrifying howling to it that I

never listen to anymore, and the same goes for Uranus except there are

harsh winds whistling that sound like spaceships firing lasers at each other.

The sounds of the planets make for a great conversation starter if you have

people to talk to, but if you don't, they make for great white noise when

you're going to sleep.

I distract myself from my End Day by reading more CountDowners

feeds and by playing the Earth track, which always reminds me of soothing

birdsong and that low sound whales make, but also feels a little bit off,

something suspicious I can't put my finger on, a lot like Pluto, which is

both seashell and snake hiss.

I switch to the Neptune track.