Steven Camden - Nobody Real

“How is the Mad Hatter?”

“Don’t call him that. What time is it anyway?”

Blue pulls the thin glass bottle out of the bag.

“Time for a drink.”

“We should talk, right?” I say, staring into the black mirror of the kitchen window.

Blue’s at the counter, pouring something dangerous into coffee mugs.

“That’s not why I came, Thor.”

She holds out a mug, smiling. She’s pretty. Even more so because she tries to hide it. Princess Blue. Denier of powers. Hider of privilege.

I lean against the sink. “Blue, listen, I’ve been meaning to call. I—”

“Shut up, yeah? Talking doesn’t get us anywhere.”

She takes a cowboy-style gulp, blinks and smiles again.

I look down into my mug, the dark bronze of trouble. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

She finishes her drink and pours herself another one. “What, us hanging out? Just ‘friends’, remember? Wait, you thought I came here to …?” she frowns. “Don’t flatter yourself, Thor Baker.”

She knocks back her drink in one, then pours another. I put mine down.

“Hang out?” I say. “Don’t you have to actually like someone’s company to hang out?”

Blue sighs. “Nope. I hang out with idiots all the time.” A wicked smile.

“How’s work?” I say, and her shoulders slump.

“Same, same,” she says. “We do what we can, but we’re basically babysitters. We bring supplies to the park, feed them and make sure they’re comfortable.” She downs her drink and pours again. “Anyway, enough violins. I’ve been leading some workshops with newbies.”

“Really? You?”

“Don’t looked so shocked, Baker. I have to try and balance things out, right? It’s just helping them find their feet.” She sits down at the little table with her drink. “Man, some of them are so small! Do you remember it, when you first came?”

“Course,” I say. “So do the newbies know who you are?”

“I’m Blue. What else do they need to know?”

“Course. Don’t want anyone loving you for powers first, right?”

She shakes her head, “Don’t want anyone loving me full stop.”

Silence.

I first met her at Needle Park. It was just before Christmas, the year I was sent away. She was handing out soup to a crowd by the fountain.

Something about how she moved got me. A slow kind of grace. Like she didn’t need to try. Like someone who knows they can fly and chooses not to. In her case, literally. In a circle of people wishing they were more, the person wishing she was less shone like a diamond in a dumpster.

We were never officially “a thing”, but stuff happened.

“What about you?” she says. “You start your fade counselling yet?”

I sit down opposite her, familiarity seeping into the room.

“Started Wednesday.”

“And?”

“And what? Stupid pop psychology crap. Anger issues from being sent away. It’s good to talk. Blah-blah-blah.”

“Helpful though, right? I remember it helping.”

“Who says I need help?”

Silence.

I tap the table with one claw. “It’s not a big deal. I’m gonna hit ten years, like everyone does, and then just … carry on. It’s not like I’m gonna flip out or something.”

Her look says it all.

“That’s different,” I say. “The ones you work with, they’re …”

“They’re what, Baker? Different? Weak? You think it can’t happen to you?”

“Blue, I’m fine. I’ve moved on. Can we drop it now?”

She finishes her drink and gets up to pour another. “So you’ve stopped watching?”

I fight my instinct to look away. Blue smiles like an older sister who already knows you’ve been in her room and touched her stuff. Lie? Truth? Lie? Truth?

“I have actually. Are you planning on drinking the whole bottle?”

Blue turns around with her mug. “So, if I were to walk in there right now and inspect that typewriter, it’d be covered in dust? And, if I broke open that box, I wouldn’t find new pages?”

Don’t flinch. Don’t flinch. “No.”

Silence. “Go check if you want.” Straight face. Straight face.

She shakes her head.

“Good,” I say. “I told you. I’m done with her. She can do what she wants. My life is here.”

Blue nods, tentatively. I need more.

“I’m serious, Blue. I’m even knocking down her house, for God’s sake.”

“What?”

The release of finally telling someone, even for the wrong reasons.

“Her house. They sent me there. New job. I’m demolishing the house she made me in.”

The shock on Blue’s face melts into disbelief, then happiness, then comes back round to shock again.

“Wow. And you’ve started already?”

“Yeah. Today.”

“And you’re OK?”

I stand up. “I’m fine. It’s time. I told you, I’m done with her.”

And she hugs me, standing on her tiptoes, pulling me down to her level, squeezing me, and I can feel the warmth of her relief. I try to push out my guilt and just enjoy the hug. The moment. It’s not until you get a good one that you remember how amazing hugs can be.

Blue slips back down on to her feet, holding my paws in her hands.

“Have you been fighting again?”

“No. It’s from work. I’m done with the fighting too.”

Guilt in my spine.

She looks up at me. “Can I stop over?”

“Blue …”

“Just to sleep.”

Smell the booze on her breath. See the hope in her eyes. Smile.

“Course you can.”

We hug again and she speaks into my chest. “I missed you, Thor.”

Squeeze.

“I missed you too, Blue.”

And I have. Truly.

So maybe I’m only half a liar.

“Bad dream?”

Blue on her side, smiling at me with sleepy eyes. I realise I’m gripping twisted duvet in my paws and let go. Breathe out. “I’m OK.”

She strokes the fur on my shoulder. “Let’s go out by the river,” she says, covering her mouth with her other hand, worried about morning breath. “We could take some food. Drop rocks into the water, remember?”

I do remember. Her skimming stones. Me shot-putting boulders. But I want you.

“I have to work.”

Her hand leaves my fur. “It’s Saturday, Thor.”

“I know.”

“I’m not saying it has to mean anything. Just two friends hanging out by the river. It’ll be fun.”