The search for an extension cord was quite hard for Celia and Jo. With the explanation that multiple of these long end-to-end wires were within the junk on Mr. Tim’s lawn, to have one of them should have already happened.

Sadly, several hours had gone by and they needed to sit to gather themselves. Neither of them was particularly tired since it was well into the night and rather chilly, but they felt it was still requied. Also, their digging for an extension cord was measured and quiet alongside chirping crickets to not wake up those sleeping.

Such need for an item was all driven by Celia, as her goal to have a good life, in part, required electricity. Both were very much deprived of this essential aspect of modern life and believed they deserved it to lessen their worldly discomfort. If successful in procuring electricity, this would mean that food and water, her other desires in having a supposed good life, would feel within reach no matter the toil to actually make them a reality.

They did have the assistance of Mr. Tim as they looked for an extension cord before their break, but both front and rear lawns of Mr. Tim was seemingly devoid of what they were for. The two were fortunate that Mr. Tim was willing to let them sit on the rarity that was a dishwasher, and an old one at that with too little rust and too many settings among its large, black build.

There was only so much space on top of the appliance for either one, forcing them to be somewhat close. With their bodies this near, they began to feel a way they preferred not to have. This thing called romance was not within their plans; they were here to obtain electricity—the type that would bring them into modernity, not the one found in the subject called chemistry. But the heat from their touching human forms would charge them up, causing them to have their heads lean into each other and glow with positive expressions.

Celia, being the taller of the two, would naturally have her head on top of Jo's, making her chest heave with tension. According to her, a moment like this was never meant to take place. They loved being friends but never loved the thought of being lovers.

But to push against someone that made her feel so good in this very instance was asinine. Jo seemed to have no problems with this due to the peaceful look on his face. Maybe it was wise for her to stay like this for a while and embrace the nighttime scenery with its dazzling moonlight and the lights of trailers that had them.

Aiiiiiimen, Aiiiiiimen... We are here in your presence, oh Lord...

The slow procession of people and voices had come within their vicinity, unlike the crickets, who were generally still in expressing themselves. They had their lanterns and carried a cross made of one vertical and three horizontal pieces from a fallen spruce tree to their place of worship, which was an unusually big trailer with strong hooks to place the special artifact above the entrance.

"Can't these religious people just go away?! Nobody wants them here." Celia was not a believer of powers or entities greater than man. Those that clung onto these long practiced beliefs were seen as in denial of its impotence to centuries of pain and desolation.

"I feel you, Celia. No need to have these people ruin our night."

She pulled away to look at him. "What do you mean by 'our night', Jo?"

"Uhhhh... You know, as friends. We're friends, right?" For Jo, to stare back at her became extinct. He would much rather have his sight on the people who were open about their faith. They never rattled him during this time of night or knotted his insides when he screamed at them to move along and not be bothersome.

Celia's thoughts had collapsed into two paths: was he asking her or did he think they were basically a couple at this point? Either way, it took him a bit to recover from his unintended slither of honesty only for someone from the procession to hop and waddle through the yard to reach them.

"Hello, my dear peoples. I am here to grace you on this blessed night to speak about the most powerful of all, the one true divinity and the master of men. If you believe you are worthy of being saved, then please take this written note to learn more."

Jo took the paper to glance at its words. "Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. This is the same crap we've seen for years."

Celia agreed with Jo. There was very little change in their beliefs, and even with it being unshakeable to those of their religion, their lives were not better off even with their weekly marches.

Even so, going from trailer to trailer singing and speaking about God got many from their cold floors and mattresses to come out to curse and throw stuff at them. This did nothing to impact their preaching since they would stand at a distance, espouse their holy book while avoiding objects that came flying at them, and, if necessary, run away when approached. These steps were their way of handling such people, and they were effective.

"You have taken the paper where several of our scribes have utilised their precious writing skills to craft this message for non-believers like you. So to me, that does indicate that you are somewhat interested. I hope, at least."

This door-to-door evangelist had cool hair crafted from a thin-toothed comb and tons of grease, a pleasant voice accompanied by a face equally so, and a frame that filled out his clothes. He was far from the dorks that would come to them preaching the same alleged words of God.

If one were to look at the crowd, there were next to none of those considered as lame. Everyone appeared normal—except for their penchant of converting those who have strayed.

"For the wicked, someone's hell is their unyielding heaven." Celia grabbed and gleamed at the paper before her eyes had a gradual rise towards him. "Do you know that line?"

"Of course! It's a famous line in our religion. Most know it by heart, and it seems that even non-believers know it as well."

"It is clear that the wicked, as stated in your book, rules this world and we are forever at their mercy."

"You shouldn't misinterpret the sacred book like that! Such people can never have rule over our world forever. All reigns must come to an end someday."

"Even the rule from the bearded dude in the sky?"

"It seems you just want to argue when I can't afford to do so." His procession was becoming out of sight, with a few waiting for him with papers and sacred books in hand. There was no need to shout at him to hurry up. Their lazily-set lips and eyes indicated they were here long enough and had to go. "If you want me gone, then keep the paper. I have to depart now."

"I gladly will once you do leave."

The door-to-door evangelist scurried off to meet with his group. He would soon divulge how difficult those young people became even as he assumed he was about a few years older than them.

"That was certainly the scene." Mr. Tim came up behind them right after the door-to-door evangelist left with an appropriately long extension cord and a radio he had no use for. Him wrapping the cord amongst an arm couldn't stop much of it from touching the ground and some junk metres from him.

Doing this for them to achieve a part of their dream was very nice of him, and using his solar generator linked to a couple of inexpensive solar panels that stood close to his trailer, was what made this possible. The items themselves were connected to the electrical panel in his home for him to get at least eight hours of use.

"At least they could no longer annoy us now." Jo turned to say this with tinges of anger.

"So you two could stare into the night all alone?"

His essence cannonballed out his body and became near hollow. "You were watching us, weren't you?" There's no way he caught us. He's just pulling our legs like cheap rubber.

"I did. And it was good to see so-called friends be so close. Or am I wrong to think you are friends at all?"

Celia became embarrassed like that of Jo, with her reaction similar to a person experiencing a mild stroke.

"Looks like you have a hard time responding, Celia. Is it safe for me to say that I'm preventing you from returning to whatever you were doing?"

Some dry coughing got her to come to her senses. "Not at all. I think it's best to test out the extension cord now."

Mr. Tim wanted to keep the paper they were given. It was written in pen and scratchy in nature, but reading about salvation and what it meant to be a good person always got to him. He had them take up a small motor to weigh it down so it wouldn't be blown by the wind. As they did this, he noted how the evangelists were nowhere as assertive and dressed and acted differently.

To him, they were willing to change—one of the few constants in this world. Then he got them to wait until their neighbours went inside and were silent so he could plug in the extension cord through a side window in his trailer and allow it to snake out. He did so in his bedroom, which felt a lot lighter since he threw out all the items that belonged to his wife. The same was done to the kitchen and bathroom, making them quite decluttered compared to his lawn. His abode became that of a bachelor, and he was happier for it.

Afterwards, he had Celia and Jo unwind separate parts of the cord until they had let it through their side window. Once they were inside their trailer, the sounds of crickets plummeted. Their end was a litany of outlets for them to choose the correct one.

It took a few minutes, but they were able to match the radio plug to the corresponding outlet for a sudden burst of sound. They had the assurance that Mr. Tim would come over soon to make sure everything was fine.

Good night to all the sla—I mean workers listening to 102.9FM, the channel for premium auditory entertainment. We're gonna continue blasting away with some great tunes to bop to, so you better hold onto something because that body of yours will have a transcendent experience in every cell!

Some very gentle piano music came from the radio and this got them to return to their love-stricken mood. With both standing, they came towards each other and stared into the abyss buried in their pupils.

"Should I lean in some more, Celia?"

"You can, Jo." She puckered her mouth, ignoring whatever else he could say. This was what Celia truly wanted all this time.

For Jo, excitement came in having his first kiss. As their lips were inches apart, Celia noticed a certain Mr. Tim behind Jo. This spooked her out of this special moment and this got Jo's feelings hurt until he turned to see the intrusive mister.

"Should I go back home? I know that teenagers like doing certain stuff with each other."

Celia couldn't help but become meek to this. "There's no need for you to do that, Mr. Tim. We would prefer for you to do what was promised."

He immediately went to check that things were okay on their side after closing the door with his lantern. As for Celia and Jo, they went to a far-off corner of their trailer to discuss their future.

"Celia, I think it's best we remain friends. What we already have is so great, and for us to become anything more would harm that."

"I understand." She had no problem accepting this as she would never have him do anything he wasn't fully sure of. But why should she when she wanted to have him in her arms, feel his skin against hers, absorb his compassion, and have a kiss with her proverbial majestic prince?

"Are you okay, Celia? You sound hurt."

"No, it's nothing." Celia looked down at him and wiped a tear from one of her lashes. "Being just friends is fine."

“I agree. We should stay as friends like we’ve always been.”

What was he saying? Did he understand the implications of his words? Deep down, Jo knew he wanted every bit of her. Those long legs and tomboy hair and face had him totally bamboozled. He would do almost anything to let Celia grab him off his feet just to be closer to her.

However, for Celia and Jo, being friends was for the best. A crap pair like them would never last with their many personal issues and their horrible environment. This brought back memories of her being so desperate for any human connection, she almost kissed a girl. What stopped Celia was realising that it wasn't what she wanted from a relationship.

Maybe falling in love was never meant to be... Celia would let that line bounce in her head for the remainder of the night and probably the day thereafter, thereby making a bomb of misery in her heart.

"Oh, fuck it."

The loveless girl got ahold of him and graced his cheek with a kiss, but Jo pivoted his head to meet her lips, making Mr. Tim a very glad onlooker.

Jo pulled from her after what felt like over a minute of ecstasy to ask if they were still friends, to which she said, "We'll always be friends, Jo. That will never change."

From that night on, Celia and Jo's friendship grew ever more intriguing and passionate. And maybe, just maybe, like flowers in a dying field, something much more could blossom.