Sunday 29 September 2013

Escaping with the ghost of Freddie Mercury.

I think we're going to keep those rules after all.
Tried to be a teacher and a fisher of men, an equal
Will you lead us all the same?
Well I traveled around the world
To find a brand new word for day
Watching the time, mustn't linger behind
Pardon me I have to get away
What will you think of heaven
If it's back from where you came?
It was sort of an epiphany. We were sitting in a scraped-up booth in a well-worn restaurant with a view of train tracks and a truck lot. Lochlan was reaching across his own plate to steal a french fry from me. He made designs in the ketchup on his plate with the fry before popping it into his mouth. He reached for another, talking to the plate instead of to me, telling it that he will do whatever it takes, that if we didn't have this moment as a sign that we're meant to be together after all this time then he didn't know what else he could do. That we had to figure it out and move forward already. We're wasting daylight.

Everything is a metaphor for movement. We're stuck up to our wheel wells in quicksand and we need to get out. It's so easy to throw it into reverse and then we just get stuck again in the same hole.

It's simple, he smiles at the thick china plate. We just have to go forward.

I nod and cough into my elbow. I've left a smear of mustard on my sleeve and on my cheek but I'll get a pass, because I'm only a child.

Are you with me, Peanut?

Where else would I be?

What will we do about the mess? He indicates my face and sweater with a half-eaten french fry but he's not taking about my outfit anymore.

I put both hands up in surrender. I don't think we can do anything. This is sewn up tight, Locket. Caleb's not going to give in and I can't put the children through any more. I just..

Let me put it another way. He drops the fry, leans in close across the table, crosses his arms and lets a soft smile play across his face. Do you remember when everything was against us? Nothing was going right, we had nothing but we still had one thing. What was it?

I don't-

Think hard, Peanut.

I smile in spite of myself. Each other! We had each other.

Was it enough? Is it enough to fight through this and see what's up ahead instead of always looking over our shoulders?

Always. Yes. 

He looked so proud for that split second before I started coughing again, and when I was finished he reached across the table with a napkin to clean the mustard off my cheek, threw two twenties on the table and stood up, holding his hand out for mine. I took it, germs intact. He should be sick within a week if they don't kill him first.