defender of the universe -- river holiday

[swing]

He came in whistling some song that had blared in the store all day and was immediately assaulted with a bag. Wide eyes turned to stare at the hand that (fed,protected,cared for) tacked the bag to the middle of his chest.
"Th'fuck?"

"Pack your shit."

Charlie took a drag off of his cigarette in all seriousness as River stiffened and peeled the bag to crush canvas underneath his fingers.

"Wha--"

"For California, let's go! You've got about ten minutes."

River bolted for the hallway immediately blossoming into joy before Charlie was chasing after him.

"Hey!"

"What?"

"Call your mom too, let'r know we're comin'."

River gave Charlie the thumbs up and immediately began to pack his bag full of all of the necessary items: a deflated beach ball, sun block, an activity pack, and clothing. When things had been haphazardly put in his bags he ran out into the kitchen with sneakers squeaking on the floor and punched in the East Coast number.

"Hello!"

"Moooooooom! Hi! Guess what?"

"Hello, Rebel! How are you? What honey?"

"You're supposed to guess!"

"I'm terrible at guessing."

"What about the tar--"

"Tarot cards are different. Why don't you just tell me, Rebby?"

"We're coming to see you!"

"Yes, I know, you told me about that the other day."

"No...NOW!"

Silence.

"Mom?"

Silence.

"Mommy?"

"WHAT?! I have to clean! When are you going to be here?"

"We're at the airport now."

"OH MY--"

"HAHA JUST KIDDING! Charlie, Lucy and I are coming today and Asher and Lani are coming later.. We'll be there in a few hours, you have plenty of time."

"Don't scare me like that! You know, your dad used to do the same thing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, only he was just calling from the other room."

They had the same sort burst of laughter before the lines were severed. If there ever were a person more sporadic than Rebel River Stone Holiday, it was his mother.

[swing]

"So you're the God-dude?"

River's speech caused the man seated across from him to be slightly taken aback. Father Michael's hands broke from their fold as he attempted to explain in gestures while his voice fumbled for something that wasn't completely flabbergasted.

"Well...Yeah.."

"Cool! So what do God-dudes do?" River leaned on the formica table top in Sal's diner with the eager _expression of a child on his face. "Do you guys have like, badges and stuff?Or like super secret code names?"

"Uhm.." Father Michael's brow furrowed in response to the boy before he tried to explain. "Well no, we're not that hip I guess. We hold church services an--"

"Like that guy and that crazy lady with the wigs who try to make you give them money on the God Channel! Do you wear wigs?! I have this crazy wig at home that I wear outside sometimes, it's blue like a clown's and--"

"Whoa, slow down there chief! I can only answer one question at a time! I'm old you know, the batteries aren't what they used to be."

"Oh....Sorry." Where River turned sheepish, Father Michael just laughed.

"Okay so.. No I don't do that kind of stuff. I'm a Catholic, we aren't into flashy hairstyles." He paused to chuckle again at that notion before continuing. "Basically I just preach and pray and talk to kids."

"How does one be a Catholic then? Do you have to like pass an initiation or something?"

"Well no..It's not really like a club. Religion is a very complicated thing."

"But why? Shouldn't it be easy? I don't understand."

"Well, it's kind of like the sundaes we ordered."

"Okay.." River fell back to listen to the analogy.

"Well, you can make a sundae any way you want right?"

"Right."

"Well, certain people like certain kinds of sundaes. So let's say that Catholics like nuts and hot fudge on their sundaes, so that's what we get."

"So..You can like pick and choose stuff in Religion?"

"Well.. You can, but what I meant was that you choose what you like best and that's what you stick with. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yeah! I get it, so can you try other sundaes though?"

"I like mine, but you can until you find one you like yes."

"Oh..."

River fell silent for a moment or two as his face turned into a frown.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't be Catholic."

"Why not?"

"I..don't really like nuts on my sundae."

[swing]

Do you remember the summers that lasted so long?
Do you remember?
All of us together?
As we grew up under the sun...

It was there--wedged between the volumes of books that smelled of nautical leather and lemon cleaning agents. The house was a labyrinth of clutter and charm, but he always seemed to find everything in its right place. His fingers rolled over the edges of the antiqued photo frame, tracing out the patterns of ivy leaves that didn't contain the sooty black on the folds of their leaves. They were laughing--some comical Christmas scene where father and son were happy. He remembered it well; the tree had been shipped in from another state and foreign felt in a virgin state of white skirted around the bottom to protect the table from its falling needles. None of that, though, was as particularly vivid as the hundreds of changing lights stringing their color around the branches--the crowning star had been constructed by the diligent fingers of a three year old boy and a roll of tinfoil. He had waited all day for everything to be constructed (helping when he could and watching when he couldn't) until finally his father had given him the secret smile and flipped the switch. He could almost feel it now--the coast's warm flush from the waning sun washing over pieces of the room where New Age met Old West acting as a memory enhancement.

Charlie had braced himself in the doorway with two cans of soda in his hand, but for some reason it felt wrong to interrupt him. There was a strange kind of innocence in moments like these that he didn't want to corrupt. River's shoulders rose and fell in some great sigh as if to shake him back into the present and Charlie let floorboards groan under his weight adopting some errant smile as he offered one of the sodas outward.

"Hey. Thought you might want something to drink."

River turned to intercept the can, not quite hiding what he was looking at but not quite offering an explanation either. He offered a smile--feeble in its stretch across his face as he cracked the can open for a sip. Charlie said nothing but followed suit, letting his eyes wander over the room that seemed to be split down the center in two very different patterns.

"What..." Charlie's voice lurched in his throat--it was as if this subject (which had never been touched on) was something sacred, something he didn't feel that his ruined tongue was allowed to mar with syntax. "What...was your dad like?" It leaked out with a struggle and a small gasp of air.

"He...Well..." River turned a glance back to the picture almost mournfully before he pulled it off of the shelf and looked into its reflective panel--a way to see two in one. "My mom says he's the kind of guy that you 'find once in a lifetime.' You know, really nice and smart and funny and stuff.."He rolled a shoulder in a half shrug before continuing. "I mean...I remember some things, like memories of stuff we did...And things like that, I mean, he was a great guy from what I remember..."

"Yeah..."The picture was offered towards Charlie, who took it--aside from random picture albums, he had never seen or heard much about River's dad. "Look at you, all little and shit." Charlie offered a grin before he put the picture back in its place. "It's good that you remember him though, you know? "

"Yeah..." River's voice trailed a minute while he found the hem of the bright-colored tie-dye shirt he had on with the free hand. "I used to talk to him when I was little...It's dumb, I know, but..Sometimes I thought that he could hear me, that he needed to hear me, you know? Because he was lonely up there by himself while mom and I were down here..."

"It's not dumb at all. I'm sure he was listening to you and I'm sure he's still listening to you." Charlie moved to set his soda down on the desk while taking care not to shift anything. "Just because he doesn't talk back and you can't see him, doesn't mean he's not always around, you know? I'm not saying that I believe in all that ghost-shit or anything, but you know.. I mean, he's a part of you..He gave you half of your genes, you know? And I think that it's good that you remember him for who he was..If your mom's right about anything, it's that you're like him."

River was silent, taking sips from the soda while they memorized everything in the room. Bare feet shuffled and River nodded as if he could finally accept what was said with a mumbled "I guess."

"Hey..I'm serious...I don't think I tell you enough, but you really are a great kid. I mean, you've done a lot for me."
River laughed slightly. "What the hell have I done for you? You've done everything for me!" He was genuine in his statement, because his eyes didn't seem to see past the supposed surface.

"You remember what I was like when I first met you, River." Charlie's voice was morose, but his eye contact didn't waiver from River's. "I was pretty fucked up, and I'm not saying that I'm not still..But.." He drew in a breath in order to calm the slow internal shaking that swept over him. "You helped me see the good in people. I mean, I was a real dick to you and you never once..Not once turned your back on me..It's like, I pushed at a brick wall..And I put you through a lot of unnecessary shit, kid. I did, but you always forgave me. It's like you can see something I can't, you know? You don't look with your eyes, you look inside...I'd give anything, anything to be something that pure."

"I..." River was shell-shocked with the words that came from his mouth, completely unsure of how to respond, he just stared with wide eyes at his friend.

"I mean...I look at you and I see this wonderful person...Who I'd do anything for, and I mean that. I never really had anyone who made me feel like I wasn't just some fuck-up, like I was an equal...You know?" Charlie rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. "I guess..I mean, I guess I should've told you before.."

"You're the only reason I'm still around, Charlie. If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have....You know how you said that I treated you like an equal? Well, you're the first person who never treated me different because I have cancer. Who didn't worry over everything I do, or act like I'm some piece of fragile glass that will break if you even look at me. If it wasn't for you, I would never have met everyone or..." River was silent for a minute. "Or had someone I could treat like a brother."

Charlie was the first to move the small paces to wrap arms around River's lanky frame--the last sentence to drop between either of them was one that Charlie had been meaning to say for a long time.

"You are my brother, River."

[swing]

The afternoon sun created strange waves of gold light on the asphalt as it peeked through the leaves from the trees that provided shade to the park, but little to the basketball court. River was rolling the ball over his shoulders from the back of one hand to the other while Charlie was bent down tying his shoe.
"When I school you, I'm going to get the biggest milkshake ever."

"Key word being...." Charlie knocked the ball off of River's shoulder and took it towards the half court line. "When, Holiday."

"Pft. Please, I can take you." River extended a lanky arm to swat the ball away from Charlie, before dribbling it in a circle around him.

"Keep telling yourself that, kid. "

"You gonna play? Or are you just gonna trash talk all day?"

"Check." Charlie turned up his hands and motioned for the ball, which was passed to him before he passed it back to River. "You know, I've been thinking.."

"Uh oh! You didn't hurt yourself did you?" River joked easily, spinning around Charlie's defense in order to break towards the hoop at the end of the court.

The ball was stolen from River as he dribbled it and Charlie took it back to half court. "Nah, you didn't hurt yourself thinking that insult up did you?"

"Shut up and shoot it already!"

River jutted out arms to block the shot that Charlie took from half court, which inevitably was hurled into the chainlink fence rather than the net.

"Your ball." Charlie smirked at River as he bounded off to retrieve the missed shot.

"So.. " River called over to Charlie before bringing the ball back to start up the game again. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, how we should place a bigger bet than milkshakes on our games." Charlie checked the ball back to River before they started moving towards the hoop again.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" River took a jumpshot which landed in the basket and held up two fingers. "Two, zilch! Still want to raise the stakes?"

"Big whoop, two fuckin' points. You've got nineteen more to make." Charlie threw up his hands for dramatic emphasis.

"Are we playing buckets?"

"Aw, baby doesn't think he can win without playing buckets?"

"Shut the hell up! Fine! Your ball, go fetch."

River flipped Charlie the finger as he went off to retrieve the ball and bring it back to half court again.

"So, you want to hear the wager or not?" Charlie passed the ball from hand to hand while he waited for River's answer.

"Okay. What is it?"

"If you win.. You can do whatever you want this year. If I win--"

"That's laaaaaame Charlie, I already do what I want."

"Ahem. Was I finished?" Charlie arched a brow at River, who remained silent with nothing more than a wave of a hand in a gesture to continue. "As I was saying; if I win, you have to go back to school."

"Aw no! I don--"

Charlie threw the ball at River, forcing him to quiet down in order to catch it.

"No. Those are the rules, besides you've already got two points!"

"If I win though, you can't ask me to go back at all." River threw the ball back at Charlie and frowned at him a minute.

"All right, deal."

The game waned on, consisting of several recounts and do-overs when shots were considered unfair or a foul was questionable.

"We're tied. This is going to take forever!" River sighed, slightly out of breath with his hands on his knees.
"Hey! You can always forfeit."

"No! Check!"

The last shot was taken by both sides several times before finally, Charlie sunk the winning basket and River collapsed on the asphalt.

"I believe you've just been TREATED!"

Charlie jumped over River in order to retrieve the ball who just yelled. "Fuck you roundhead!"

"Aw, nobody likes a sore loser." Charlie offered River a hand who took it while sulking. "C'mon, I'll get you a damn milkshake anyway."

River just shook his head and picked up his gatorade off of the decrepit bench where they had left their things. "No thanks, I'll just wallow in defeat." His reply was said with a frown as he plopped down on the bench to have a drink.

"No you won't. Don't be lame." Charlie flopped down beside him and set the ball underneath the bench.
"I'm not being lame! You're lame!"

"What? How am I lame? I'm offering to get you a milkshake anyway!"

"Because, you're going to make me go to school and it's GAY!"

"It's not gay."

"How would you know? You didn't go."

Charlie sensed the bitterness in River's words and dropped his head before hands rose to knot at the base of his neck. Silence passed between them before he spoke up.

"Yeah I didn't, but I didn't do a lot of things that I should've."

"Oh yeah, like what?"

"Like a lot of shit, River."

"Name one thing."

"Go to school."

"Besides that."

"I named one thing."

"No. You named a generic thing. You can't even think of something else to name, can you?"

"I can think of a lot of things, but there's nothing I can do about it now." Charlie let his hands fall as his head rose again. "But that's not the point. The point is, you don't want to end up saying that you should've gone to school. You have the chance, you have the fucking intelligence. Use it."

"So did you and you didn't use it and look where you ended up."

"Yeah, look where I ended up River. I package Grandma's fucking China all day."

"So? You have a job."

"Yeah, and I'm lucky that I do. I'm lucky that I have anything that I do, Riv'. That's what I'm saying. You don't want to rely on that for the rest of your life do you? I mean, if you could choose between getting by and making something of yourself, what would you pick?"

"That's not a fair question Charlie, you know what I'd pick."

"Then I think you should. Which is why, tomorrow you're going to start looking for colleges. I want three by the end of the week."

"Gee, thanks dad."

"Listen...Your mom's going to kick my ass if you wind up begging strangers for cash in a subway station, okay? So do us all a favor and try? Go for a year, if you hate it still then you can quit."

"Promise I can quit if I hate it after a year?"

"Promise."

"Fine." River stood up and started gathering his things, with a backpack slung over his shoulder he pointed a finger at Charlie. "By the way, you still owe me that milkshake."

"Owe you? Why do I owe you?" Charlie asked while picking up the remainder of his things in order to walk with River off of the court towards Sal's.

"Because you said you were going to treat me."

"No, I said you got treated."

"Yeah, well, I'm waiting to be treated....to that milkshake."

[swing]

The day was deceptively beautiful with its cotton ball clouds as the temperature continued to drop. His hands were fisted into the pockets of a thin black coat as the jut of a shoulder slammed against the brightly colored door to keep it open as a well bundled Trekki threw it open and walked out. Collision was barely avoided and Charlie kept his snide remark on the slice of a smirk as he stepped over the jingling mat toward the counter.

River was hard at work--a sharpie was scrawling its way across a sheet of paper as his tongue waggled out of the side of his mouth. It wasn't until Charlie gave a light cough that he looked up. There was a moment where River straightened himself and capped the marker before it was used to stab at the space between them before he spoke.

"You," The word came out matter-of-fact as the end of the marker floated around in a circle. "Are an asshole."

"Yeah, I know. Something came up, I'm sorry about that." Charlie's hands lifted from pockets then as he blew warm air over the frozen joints.

"Oh what's that?" River held a hand up to his ear as if creating an extended shell might help him hear better. "I don't speak asshole."

"Listen kid, if you don't knock it off I'm going to--" Words were cut short as Charlie sidestepped the counter with a polite smile as two obnoxiously loud girls came up to purchase comics.

"Going to what?" River didn't miss a beat as he smiled and scanned the comics' barcode with the gun before punching in a total and making an exchange. His attention was then focused intently on Charlie, as elbows stabbed the counter and palms became a headrest. "Go on, I'm listening."

"Beat your ass, Holiday. Now listen, when do you get off work?"

"Uhm, that depends."

"On what?"

"What you're bribing me with. I'm not cheap you know..." River picked himself up off of the counter and splayed bony fingers over his heart as he fluttered his eyes. "I have standards."

Charlie rolled his eyes and shoved his hands back in his pockets. "Pizza and a milkshake."

"Deal." River hopped over the counter and walked toward the back wall where a very short girl was alphabetizing action figures. "Hey Trang, I'm going to peace out. " The girl nodded and smiled before waving him off, he pulled at the hem of his shirt before heading into the back room.

The girl finished settling plastic boxes on their metal hooks before she rounded the counter and adjusted her glasses. "So, you must be the asshole."

"Jesus Christ." Charlie smeared a hand over his face. "Does he tell that to everyone?"

"Well, he also calls you r--"

"HEY! LOOK IT IS TIME WE GO NOW!" River pulled Charlie's arm as soon as he had emerged from the back room in a coat four sizes too big and the beanie that Lucy had given him in the hospital. "Bye! See you tomorrow!"

Charlie just shook his head and wandered out of River's place of work onto the street. The two of them were diametrically opposed--the perpetual hardened veteran of the city walked along side the inner child even as River pulled on his shark mittens.

"Where the fuck did you get those?" Charlie held up a hand and shook his head. "Nevermind. I don't want to know."

"You're just jealous because Jorge and Hubert aren't keeping your hands warm." For added effect, River made chopping motions with his hands and smiled widely.

"Christ, you named them?" Charlie stopped in his tracks to give his friend an incredulous look. "This is worse than I thought."

"What's wrong with naming them?!" River stopped when Charlie did and shrugged his shoulders exaggerated as he shrieked. "Maybe if you had awesome shark mittens, you'd be cool and name them."

"No, kid. If I had those mittens? I'd probably be committed. How did you fit your hands in those?" Charlie started walking again, with shoulders slicing through the small gathering that loitered on the corner of the block.

"What are you talking about? These aren't for babies!" River jogged to catch up with Charlie as he was swallowed by the corner. "Babies can't handle the awesomeness that is...Shark Mittens."

Charlie rolled his eyes and mouthed out the word "okay" before side stepping a couple with a child. River finally caught up and stuffed his hands into his pockets before he frowned faintly. Within a minute or two, Charlie was pushing open the door to Sal's to be assaulted with the oven warmth of a corner diner. They shed their coats and depressed onto the squeaky red vinyl that glittered in the artificial lighting.

"So, what's up?" River pulled open a menu, even though he already knew what was being ordered.

Charlie hesitated on answering his question and chose instead to rattle off the order to Mona who smacked her gum loudly and called him sweetheart. His hands folded on the speckled table top before he braced most of his weight on them in a lean that looked pretty uncomfortable.

"Do you want the good news, or the bad news first?"

"How about we just go with all of the good news, and no bad news?" River negotiated with wide eyes and a hand clasping around the amber plastic cup of water.

"Because, both are important." Charlie fell back into his seat, waiting until the squeaking subsided before he spoke again. "So I guess I'll start with the bad."

"Okay." River sighed out the word before he took a sip of water. "Shoot."

"Have you talked to Lani lately?"

"Oh no! What happened?!" River immediately gripped the edge of the table top. "Is she going to be deported?"

"What?" Charlie blinked rapidly and shook his head. "No, no listen--"

"I knew it!" River slapped his hand on the table. "I knew she was Canadian."

"River, she's not Canadian."

"Yeah, okay!" River winked twice exaggeratedly. "She's not Canadian. I got it."

Charlie just took in a deep breath and let it seep out of his lungs entirely before he continued. "Anyway, Asher went away for a while and she's not--"

"Oh I see!" River cut him off with a sage nod. "Of course I will."

"You will? I haven't even asked you yet!"

"No," River agreed amiably. "But you don't have to. I'll marry Lani so she can keep her citizenship."

"No no!" River held up a hand. "Don't worry! I understand!" He shifted in his seat and folded hands on the table top. "So, what's the good news?"

"The pizza's here." It was all Charlie could manage as he stared across the table at his friend.
Sometimes, it was better not to correct him.

[swing]

The rainbow yarn had slowly fabricated into tiny items: a hat, lopsided mittens that were too big for tiny hands, and a sweater that he had modeled on a plastic dog just to be sure it would fit something small. Knitting had become a therapeutic way of making the slow pang in arms subside and the finished product was more than pleasing to him. A small baby. One to smother with stories and sneak candy to when teeth finally settled into a tiny mouth. He was just as excited as the bride and groom ? a vicarious way of collecting siblings.

The box was patched together with torn slivers of brightly decorated paper and enough tape to last a decade. The finishing touches were added in a pop-up card of River?s design ? the kissing song with illustrations was tucked away inside an envelope and plastered to the top, addressed to ?Mr. And Mrs. Stantonizzle.? Fingers scratched at his temple as shorn hair stuck up in colicky designs and when the door opened, wide eyes were cast towards his room mate.

?What the hell is that?? James stretched his mouth widely as keys were spun on the finger that pointed toward the box.

?It?s ninja classified.?

?Oh yeah?? James laughed and bent down to help clean up the debris.

The polar opposites managed to get along in their corner dorm room ? James was incredibly neat and focused on engineering music where River was messy and concerned about doodles and colors. Their camaraderie had extended in plans to room together again next year, with the whole floor.
?Where?d your moptop go?? James asked as the trash was settled into a can before he flopped onto his bed.

?We don?t have a mop?? River countered before ruffling his hair. ?Out the window.?

?Oh,? James folded hands on his stomach and lolled his head to the side as he spoke. ?How was break??

?Awesome! How was yours??

?Pretty good. Can I ask you a question??

?Shoot.? River pointed a finger and squinted an eye at James.

?Who are the Stantonizzles??

?My dogs.? River thumped at his emaciated chest. ?My crew from the east side, you know how we roll. Ride or die, with rollies in the sky.?

James just laughed and shook his head ? he had learned early on that there was no use in correcting the boy. As he moved to speak, Ryan bounded in the door with a wide grin.

?You guys! Hiiiiii! Look what I have!? Her hands shot forth holding the yellow Kodak packet that housed pictures.

?Awesome!? River jumped up from the floor and scrambled to see the photographs as they were pulled from their packaging.

?Awww Riv?! You cut your hair!? Ryan exclaimed and ruffled his hair on her tiptoes while he looked at the pictures.

?James! Come look, we look so thug in this one.? River stabbed a finger at the glossy photograph and grinned wide.

James picked himself up off of the bed and wandered over to peer at the picture in question before he broke into a laugh.

?Was this the time you were trying to show Ryan how to do the Robot??

?Maybe! Or the Harlem Shake, I can?t remember.?

?Both!? Ryan interjected with a laugh.

?Can we put this one up?? River asked her with wide eyes.

?Sure! That?s why I brought them over, oh look at this one!? Ryan pried at the pictures and shuffled through to reveal another of them standing around a man dressed in a chicken suit.

?Mr. Chicken!? River exclaimed.

?I think that guy was really pissed at us by the time we left.? James said with a laugh.

?I think he was too, but that?s only because Riv? tried to have a dance off.?

?Hey!? River shot a look at both of them. ?If you are dressed like a chicken, you have to dance.?

They all laughed and the pictures were handed back to Ryan before she pulled out the one they had asked to hang up and went in search of a pushpin. The picture was tacked to the bulletin board in the middle of the room before she stood back.

?What do you think guys??

?That?s gangster!? River crossed his arms and gave a nod.

James just laughed and shook his head.

?Aw, c?mon! You know we?re street!?

?About as street as Sammy Sosa.?

?Hey,? Ryan interrupted. ?He came from the hard knock life.?

?Good point,? James conceded.

Together, they were the dream team; composed of whimsicality and a certain brand of friendship that was contained in prescriptions for Cancer, Asthma, and Diabetes.

[swing]

Hey let your honesty shine, shine, shine now
Like it shines on me
The only living boy in New York
The only living boy in New York
Here I am...

The university became a snapshot framed by boxes that were unloaded from the back of a car in rows. Eventually, they were arranged as some type of fortress barrier from the tension that made the rest of the house shake in silence. Wet eyes and a swollen throat were not the direct result of a relationship fraying, but instead because of something that he was unwilling to admit to.

His cough died down, but it didn't stop the night sweats or disoriented feeling he received from being jolted back to life in a subway car on his way to work. His vision blurred sometimes, but he blamed it on the lunch break that he spent in the sun staring at the same sun that was shining down through the holes in the smog covering Los Angeles. In the summer months when the ground heated and skin beaded with sweat, he wished he was home. It wasn't as if the ocean didn't crash against his back door in New York, it was that his back door wasn't really his own.

He missed the charm of the boulevard and the perpetual clear sky that covered the ocean when he turned his eyes to the West. He missed the conversations that he had in his mother's kitchen and the photo albums of his father. He missed having a year round summer and the weight of worry lifted from his shoulders. Most of all, he missed that feeling of being cared for instead of having a responsibility to the people here.

When he got this way in the past, he didn't feel that obligation to keep himself in good health. He could feel helpless and wallow in his own self-decay, but now he found himself filling out medical forms and taking regular check-ups with the doctor the minute he felt the slightest hint of illness. Pills were lined in orange bottles and taken at the prescribed time with a religious fervor; because as much as he missed his old life, it couldn't hold a candle to his now.

Pieces of California were still stitched into the skin of his extended family -- each face was added into his family tree because of their impact on his life. While textbooks were forced into his hands, the real lessons in life he learned from those who lived and breathed beside him. Even now, as they began to couple off and start their lives over again with titles and surnames, he still felt a closeness that he couldn't find miles away.

His mind may've drifted to California, but his heart was in New York and for that reason he kept everyone in the dark and continued to shine.

[swing]

The lacquered sign that jutted out from the building's face was a brilliant display of primary colors that formed the name of the cartoonish sanctuary. River's brilliantly colored uniform drifted in and out of focus from the window when he swept around the large cut outs of comic book heroes to help a customer. Charlie's fingers only smudged the glass when he knew River was busy, because he was only there to drop off a piece of notebook paper.The girl at the counter gasped faintly when she saw the swelling of Charlie's face and the cuts on his hands. He opened his mouth to say something when a hand smoothed lightly over his shoulder and a voice piped up for him like a ventriloquist.

"Can you watch the store a minute, Celia? I'll be right back."

The girl smiled briefly and nodded before she pushed her glasses up a notch in salute. River turned with a faded smile and pushed the door open for Charlie to follow. Once outside, River didn't slow in his pace until they were turned into an alleyway, opposing one another like gunslingers. He folded his arms and furrowed brows as he waited for Charlie to explain at least, the reason for showing up at his place of work the way that he did.

"Listen, I'm not trying to bother you while you're at work. I just wanted to drop off my address and see if you were busy tonight."

"I am," River responded with a tilt of his chin. "I'm going to Lani's tonight, but maybe tomorrow we can meet up."

"That's fine." Charlie offered out the slip of paper with fingers that shook faintly despite the fact that the wind was stifled in the alley.

"So," River began after the paper had been taken and put in his pocket. "Are you going to tell me that you fell down the stairs again?"

"No, I'm not going to tell you anything."

Charlie scraped fingers over the back of his neck as River shouldered past him, careful not to collide because he knew the volatile impulse of fists.

"I hope you're in the mood to talk tomorrow."

[swing]

We always need to hear both sides of the story..


The subway is always crowded, even when you come in the middle of the day there's a rush of people fighting for a seat. I picked one of the trains that is heading the opposite direction of where I want to go, not because I can't read train tables, but because I wanted to curl up on one of the candy colored seats and think.

There is a woman sitting next to me reading the Spanish newspaper. I want to ask her what she finds so interesting because she keeps bobbing her head up and down as she scans over the pages with a pleased smile, but I don't think she'd have an explanation for me anyway. The seat squeaks when I lean further into it as I fold my arms over my stomach and watch the two children across from me whisper back and forth. Occasionally, they turn to look at me before going back into their huddled conspiracy. I smile, but I don't really think that they gather my meaning.

The train is switching courses and all of the people that were my silent company in the noisy car have gotten off to meet someone while I stay still. Despite all the jostling around, I'm focused. I have to make a decision about a slip of paper in my back pocket. While that might not seem like anything important, it really is. It's important because no matter what I decide, someone is going to be upset with me.

I don't like it when people are upset with me. I hate disappointing people; I hate that look that spreads across their faces like I've made their hearts skip just enough to startle them. I don't like being upset and I don't like seeing other people upset. That's why I'm going to spend the night at Lani's as many in a row as I can. He doesn't see her; the way she walks around with just enough strength to keep herself together. I watch her dangle like a thread which only needs a little tug to come completely undone. He doesn't understand how much it hurts for me to see her the way that she is and to feel like I can't do anything; because he's right, this isn't my fight.

She doesn't see him either, though. She doesn't watch his bruises multiply and his skin toughen the way it was when I first met him. She doesn't see how he's not really angry but so hurt that the only thing that keeps him together is falling apart. Neither of them seem to see me, or anyone else who has to watch them. I think this is how they must feel when I'm sick; how they feel when they watch my monitors jump and skip just to see if they're paying attention. Well, I'm checking for vitals; you're not dead, just struggling.

I get off of the subway and take the long way back to their house, not because I'm avoiding it but because I need the space to breathe. I need the space to understand that the closer I get to the house, the closer I get to doing something that might be unfixable. But, if he can't understand my reasons then maybe there was nothing to be fixed anyway.

I go through the cupboards and pet Jupiter when she rubs her face against the leg of my jeans. She seems to be the only one that's not really affected by this, which is why I sneak her bits of food from a left over tuna salad while the noodles boil in a pot. Soon enough, everything turns into a meal that I carefully deposit into a plastic container which is safe for the microwave and wash the dishes that are in the sink. I leave the bowl out on the counter with a lid pressed down to keep the steam inside its walls in small droplets before I go into my room and pack my things.

When I'm finished, I return back to the kitchen and scribble the address on an index card which I set on top of the bowl without an explanation. I'm sure I could've left an explanation, but she really doesn't need to hear anything from me, does she?

[swing]

In the scattered light from Venetian blinds, is hands scrawled lazily over a sheet of drawing paper that was separated from the notebook which was slowly sinking into the vinyl of the seat. He hunched over his work like a looming shadow with the frazzled ends of his hair brushing aside loose graphite. He hadn't heard her shoes squeak against the checkered pattern of linoleum floor, or rather, he hadn't acknowledged it or her as she blocked out the remaining slivers of light.

"What're you doin'?"

Her voice broke his concentration on the radio static of an old western broadcast as the pencil paused in its half arc. Candy apple eyes expressed the warm of a smile that his face couldn't produce in its distracted state before they turned back down toward the image. Half-finished, it was pushed toward her with fingertips that barely touched the edges as he rolled his spine back into the vinyl backrest and sighed.

"El Paso."

"El Paso?" Ryan questioned him with the sticky thatch of her eyes before they looked over the landscape.

"El Paso," River reaffirmed with a shake of his head as arms draped over his emaciated ribcage that held the emblazoned logo for Marvel Comics across it. "I lived there when I was little."

"Really? So you're a Texan then? What happened to your accent?" She scrunched up her nose in a light laugh before the paper was slid back in front of him.

"No, I was born in Los Angeles, but my dad was from Texas."

"Does he have an accent? Or a handlebar moustache?"

"He had a moustache, but I'm not really sure on the accent."

"Why?" Ryan asked as she pulled her legs underneath her on the seat. "I mean, you don't have to answer that if you don't want to."

"He died when I was little." River shrugged his shoulders as she smeared her hair behind an ear in an awkward silence.

"Oh," She spoke and broke the heavy quiet that had seemed to settle on them as she turned her face to search for a waitress to fill the space between them.

"You can ask." River's voice was muffled softly as he hunched over the paper again and used the side of an index finger to smear and shade where his pencil could not.

"I don't want to ask you that, Riv'." She shifted uneasily in her pose and let a leg drop as fingers twisted in the fraying hole of her jeans on her bent knee.

"But you want to know right?" His hand only paused briefly as the page was turned diagonal.

"Yeah."

"Okay, then we'll pretend you asked." His head lifted to offer her a reassuring smile before he spoke to the paper. "My dad died of Leukemia when I was six."

"That's terrible! I mean -- " She fumbled for words as he paused on the drawing and rolled his shoulders evenly.

"I guess. I don't know, he's out a pain now which is a good thing."

"Still, it's awful! I don't know what I'd do..." She trailed off when the waitress came by to take her order and refill River's water.

"There's not much you really can do. I mean, you either have it or you don't and you can take all the treatments for it you want, but there's no real guarantee that you'll make it either way. My mom used to tell me that 'whatever happens, is for a reason' and I believe it. I think everything has a reason."

"Yeah, but medicine's so advanced now! And, I know what you mean about things happening. It's like when a stone falls into a stream or something, and it causes all of those ripples? I've heard that before."

"Yeah, it's kind of like that. It's why I'm not really worried anymore."

"About what?"

"Dying."