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rohansonSo it’s one phone call time. and there is only one person who springs straight to mind to come down here, and bail me out.
I get my wallet back for a moment to dig out a scrap of paper, then pick up the handset, and dial in the numbers. It rings once, twice, then a hungover voice answers with a grunt.
“Jay. Just the man I need to talk to!”
“Paris?”
“Yeah, Paris. I think you probably know this drill well, mate. I’ve got one phone call, and couldn’t think of anyone better to come down here and BAIL MY ASS OUT OF JAIL!!” I take a deep breath before telling him where exactly I am, and hanging up before he can reply.
Four hours later, my clothes are thrown into the cell, and I can finally take off these overalls. A guard takes me out to the front desk, where Jay’s waiting. I acknowledge him with a curt nod, and sign some papers that are pushed towards me, and the desk sergeant gives me Leelu’s keys.
“She’s out the back.” He gives me a wink, and I manage a small smile. At least she’s okay. I walk past Jay, really not wanting to spend any more time than necessary with someone who can’t stand to have me around.
“Thanks. Give me a ring, let me know what I owe you.” And I’m out the door on my way to find Leelu before he can say a word.
Jay: Yeah, OK, I know I was an ass last time we met. But that was 'cause I could barely stand on my own two feet without feelin' like I was dyin'. Now you're playin' the hard one, tryin' not to show me how much bein' behind bars bothered ya. Well, I know that look, I know that feelin'. Humiliation and anger and fear as what's gonna come next. Oh, do I know.
So you're checkin' out Leelu, makin' sure she's OK, not knowin' that I just pulled out more money than I own in the world against Dad’s bank account to bail you outta jail.
"I can tell ya what ya owe right now, man," I make my voice hard, so you'll actually look up at me as I lean against the wall. "Ya owe me a fuckin' beer." I pull a smoke outta my pocket and light it, givin' ya a wry grin as I soften my voice now that you're listenin'. "And a fuckin' explanation why ya drug me down here so early. Not used to seein' the cops 'fore sundown. You're breakin' my streak, Paris."
Paris: Leelu’s sitting in a parking bay, and she looks fine, but I give her the once over anyway. Right now, she’s the only thing I’m pleased to see, and I wonder why the hell you’ve followed me out. I glance over at you. Explanation?
“Dave’s out of town, and since I knew this had something to do with you, you were my next choice.” I don’t tell you that you were my only choice. “As far as explanations go, I finally found out what happened in the hospital. I was arrested for assault, and why the hell they thought I was Norweigian is beyond me!!”
My eyes are blazing, but the look on your face has a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. The absurdity hits me, and I’m almost grinning despite myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You must have know that this would happen sooner or later?”
Jay: "Tell ya what, exactly?" I can see you're fightin' a smile, and though this usually isn't my bit, I know I gotta try to cheer you up at least a little bit before ya turn your back on me completely. "I told ya about Theo freakin' out last time he saw his Dad, goin' all ape-shit when they doped Theoden up with a needle. He started babblin' in Rohirric, and I thought fast and told 'em he was my cousin from Norway." I shrug a bit, draggin' off my smoke. "Did I forget to mention to ya the part about him givin' the asshole doctor a broken nose? I was pretty proud of him. Been wantin' to do that myself for days."
I can't read the look on your face, and I ignore the tug in my chest as I look into your eyes. If you were Theo, I'd know exactly what you were thinkin' at this moment. But you're not, and I can't let myself forget it. You're your own man . . .not my man. But maybe, somehow, we can be friends someday. Make life a fuck of a lot less awkward, I can tell ya that.And a hell of a lot less lonely.
Won't say it to your face, but it makes me feel strangely good to know you'd call me second in line to Dave. Yeah, I owe ya for draggin' my broken ass from that beach in Foxton last week and drivin' us home, but there's more to this than that. We may not like it, but Theo's bound us in ways neither of us wanna admit. Might as well try to be civil about it.
"So, do I get my fuckin' beer or not? I left the house so quick I didn't get my breakfast." I wink at you, and stroll over to Brego. Sure as fuck not tellin' ya what I decided to name my Harley. Not 'til I tell Theo, at least.
If I ever see him again.
Paris: A smile finally breaks through at the mention of your “Norwegian cousin”, and knowing Theo, I can imagine his reaction to anyone he thought was hurting TheodenI knew that something had happened from our ride back from the beach, it’s just good to know the details.
Buying you a beer will delay the inevitable of going back to an empty house, knowing where Dave is, but I have to admit, it’s a bit weird, the thought of hanging around with someone who’s effectively fucked me, even though I’ve got no memory of it. Suppose we’re never gonna be able to avoid each other, though, not with Theo in both our lives, and right at this moment, I need the company, so what the hell?
“Okay, you get your beer, so long as we go somewhere I can eat. I’m starving, so I’ll even buy you actual food too!” Then I notice the Harley, and follow you over to it. “Nice bike! A step up from the Lincoln?” I grin as you flash me a look, and head back to Leelu. “I’ll follow you.” I shout over my shoulder. You nod, before pulling out of the car park, and I take off after you into the traffic.
Jay: "Fuckin' hell, I think a Pinto would be a step up from that beast," I snort when you mention the Lincoln. But I gotta admit to myself there's a soft spot in me for the Hearse, and more than just as a good piece of machinery. She and I went through a lot together, and she deserves her props. But private props.
I lead you through the streets, enjoyin' the feel of dodgin' and weavin' between the slower, clunkier cars. Nothin' moves like a bike, and I'm pleased to see Leelu keepin' up with Brego just fine. In fact, you're so damn good at playin' the traffic with another bike, I start to wonder where you learned to ride like that.
I ask you about it once we’ve ordered our meals, sittin' across from each other at some greasy-spoon diner I've passed by a few times but never actually tried. I'd thought briefly about goin' back to that beach café, but for some reason I felt it was important not to re-create the scenes I played out with Theo. Gotta draw the lines. Paris. Theo. Not the same.
Paris: I take a swig of coffee while we’re waiting for our food. It’s hot and black, and surprisingly good and after the last 24 hours, sitting here talking with you is giving a little normality back to my life.
“My Dad always had bikes. He gave my brother Steve and me a couple of dirt bikes to fix up when I was 14. Used to take them out on a patch of scrub land behind the house, ride around for hours. Then I did a bit of courier work round Auckland, before I left.” Now that’s a memory I haven’t visited for a while, brings up too many thoughts of Jason, I suppose. “And just spent the summer down on the south island working for a bike touring company. Sweet gig. Got to ride around on the bike all day, and hang out with a decent group of people. Was the best summer I’ve had for a while.”
Food arrives, plates piled full of eggs and stuff fresh off the griddle, and it tastes like heaven. I dig in like I’m starving. Half a plateful and another swig of coffee later, and I continue rambling.
“First thing I did when I bought Leelu two years ago was head back to Auckland to show her off to Steve. Course, he’s gone over to the dark side now.” I grin at you. “He’s become this big corporate guy, drives a flash Merc sports car, but he can still appreciate a good bike when he sees one.”
The waitress tops up our coffee. “What about you? How’d you end up a mechanic in New York?”
Jay: "My condolences about your brother," I wink at you as the waitress refills our coffee. "But, don't worry, he'll be back. Soon as he hits his mid-life crisis, he'll have the biggest fuckin' hog on the road. With a stereo in it so he can listen to Born to be Wild while he cruises to his office. Just wait."
When you ask me how I became a mechanic, I have to stop and really think for a second. "Well, back when I was a kid in England, seemed the only thing I was good at was tearin' things apart. Telephones, toasters, bicycles, anythin' that had movin' parts, I wanted to see how it worked. So Dad figured it'd be best if I also learned how to put things together again. My uncle, Mum's brother, owned a garage, and I'd hang out there after school and watch him put the cars together. He figured out quick he could get some free child slave labor, and soon I was right there under the hood with him. Small fingers and all that. Kinda carried it with me when Mum and I moved to New York. Didn't know any mechanics there, but there were lots of shops in the area that were glad to have a free hand now and again. Fixin' cars and motorcycles is about the only thing I know I'm really fuckin' good at, and damn if I don't love it."
I've been babblin' again, so I dive back into my pile of scrambled eggs. This is kinda weird, but nice. Been a while since I've had anyone to talk shop with at all.
"So what led to actin'? Ya seem like a decent guy," I smirk at you, lettin' ya know I'm deliberately givin' ya a hard time. "what led ya down the spiral?"
Paris: It’s easy to laugh at your predictions for Steve, cause I know that’s exactly what will happen, just give him another 10 years or so.
I answer your smirk with a grin. “One bit part doesn’t mean I’m an actor! All that standing around, take after take for a couple of minutes footage? Not my thing. That one role got me Leelu, but I’m not interested in doing it again. But I suppose I was just in the right place at the right time; just happened to be passing through when they were looking for extras, and, well, you know the rest.”
You’re relaxed around me today, which is good, cause I’m enjoying the company, so although I don’t mind talking about Theo if you want to, I’m not gonna bring the subject up. And I’m finding it really easy to open up and talk today. Maybe that’s what being locked up for the night will do for you, or maybe it’s fueled by this lonely ache, knowing where Dave is right now.
“I’m a carpenter, trained up with my Dad’s construction firm. When he realised I was serious about not going to Uni, he dragged my ass off to work for him every school holiday, so I know all about working for nothing for family!” I drain my coffee mug. “Been travelling around Zid for the past few years,” Has it really been seven years since … “and did a year in Australia, taking whatever work there was when I needed to. Never really settled anywhere before.” There’s a sad smile on my face as I think about that. “Maybe I still haven’t.” I stare out of the window at Leelu for a moment, then something occurs to me.
“What about you? Your Dad was in the Rings movies, and you never visited the set and got roped in as an extra?”
Jay: When I hear your laugh, a weird sorta relief fills me. No pang, no ache; nothin' but the satisfaction of seein' some of the creases smooth from your brow. A night in jail can be rough on a guy, even if he's used to it. If nothin' else, makes ya bored as hell and willin' to talk to just about anyone.
Like I'm one to fuckin' talk, though, haven't been out of the house on the Hill since the Playboys gig. Gareth's been busy with the band, bar, and boyfriend since then; and fuck if I'm callin' that choad-weasel Des to hang out. Sure as hell wasn't expectin' to be havin' breakfast with you today, or really ever for that matter. The more you talk, though, the more I can tell you're a facinatin' case, a real lone wolf, judgin' by the story you're spinnin' and that almost conspiratorial look you exchange with your bike out in the parkin' lot.
But there's a sadness to you, like there's somethin' eatin' at you. I remember then that you mentioned Dave was outta town, and I wonder if your mood's got more to do with that than with your overnight stint in the clink. But I ain't askin'. None of my fuckin' business.
When you ask me about workin' on the movies, I snort into my cup of coffee. "This look like the face of an actor to you?" I point at myself and shake my head. "Naw man. Mum had a hard enough time gettin' me to sit still long enough for family pictures, so I sure as hell ain't standin' around for hours on end just so I can I repeat the same lines over and over. Dad's told me enough about the craft. I ain't that stupid." Never mind the fact I was kinda. . .outta touch with Dad for most of the shoot. Just kinda worked out that my prison sentence was pretty much exactly the span of time Dad was workin’ on Lord of the Rings, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tell ya things like that. So I opt for the safer excuse.
"'sides," I continue after swallowin' a bite out of my English muffin, "Ever since I visited him in Kenya for Ghost and the Darkness, I haven't been one much for locations." I shudder, willin' to let it drop, but your curious look urges me to continue. "No big deal really. I was like, 18, summer before NYU, Dad thought it'd be a fun way for us to spend some time together, get me out to see the world, meet some movie stars, yaddah, yaddah. Brilliant idea, yeah? Well two days after I get to the location on the savannah I get dysentery. No shit. Had to be flown by helicopter to the nearest hospital, got better just in time to go home and start college. So yeah, not one much for travel to exotic lands like wild Zid." Fuck, did I just call New Zealand Zid? I've been hangin' out here too long.
Paris: I can’t help but laugh at the dysentery story, and you give me a pained look. “Sorry. Must have been awful!” But I’m still repressing a grin. “Zid?? You’re beginning to sound like a local! Okay, not quite, but now that your Dad’s okay, you planning on sticking around, or are you heading back to the states?”
Jay: I grimace, but try to hide it beneath another slurp of coffee. "Well, Dad's got his head back, yeah, but the fuck-wads at the hospital won't let him out yet. Want to 'keep him under observation,' or some shit like that, make sure he doesn't relapse." I sigh, and unconsciously shred a greasy strip off my napkin. "They still won't let me see him. But at least we can talk on the phone now. So, I know I'm stickin' around for a few more weeks at least, kinda help ease his re-entry back into the real world." And fuck if it ain't gonna be a rough landin' when I finally have to tell him about Claudia.
Paris: I sit and finish my pastry while you talk. I’m enjoying the company, real company, cause although Theo is good to have around, it’s a bit like having an imaginary friend, and I’m not even gonna think of Dave right now. I’m just about to ask if you wanna grab a beer and shoot a couple of games of pool, when I feel it. Like a tickle at the back of my mind, and I know that any minute, one bored, pissed off Rohirrim is gonna be checking in to see what distraction I can give him today. And sitting right in front of me is the one distraction he really wants. The only reason he hasn’t shifted back in so far is that he knows the pain he felt when he shifted is shared. Which is a good thing, as having Theo around again would freak Dave out. Not that I actually care at the moment. But then this is the first time I’ve seen you since dropping you off that morning, and I don’t know how he’ll react if you’re here.
He’s also gonna want to know why I slammed the link shut last night. I know that it’s gonna take a while for him to heal, and sitting around doing nothing isn’t him, but so far we’ve covered the finer, and the dirtier points of several martial arts, he’s checked out his new sword, and is impressed with my choice, I’m fairly confident he can now ride a bike, but don’t think I’ll be handing him the keys to Leelu anytime soon, and we’ve had several long, rambling conversations, mainly when I’ve been out with the Brat … Ah shit! Isean!!
I knock the rest of my coffee back in a hurry. “I gotta go, mate! Dave’s … we’ve got a puppy, and she’s been on her own all night. Totally slipped my mind.” Then I’m on my feet, pulling my jacket on. “You wanna shoot a couple of games of pool later, grab a few beers? Listen, why don’t you follow me back to the house, I’ll do what I need to do, then we can go in search of a pool table?”
Jay: I give you a puzzled look when you start getting so frantic about the pup bein' on it's own. "What, you're afraid it invited all its friends over and trashed the house in the night?" Never been much of a dog person, myself, can't stand all that droolin', beggin', and whinin'. . . at least, not from an animal. Cats have always been more my speed, and I know my little girl Jett can take care of herself. All I gotta do is leave the skylight window open a crack and set out a bowl of dry cat food, and she'll wander back home when she's damn good and ready.
"Pool?" My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Breakfast with you was one thing, but I'll admit I'm pretty surprised you wanna make an afternoon of it. And more than a little pleased. "You have no idea what you're gettin' yourself into, man." I grin wickedly at you as I grab my jacket and follow you up the register. You're a weird one, Paris. But you're OK in my book.
I get my wallet back for a moment to dig out a scrap of paper, then pick up the handset, and dial in the numbers. It rings once, twice, then a hungover voice answers with a grunt.
“Jay. Just the man I need to talk to!”
“Paris?”
“Yeah, Paris. I think you probably know this drill well, mate. I’ve got one phone call, and couldn’t think of anyone better to come down here and BAIL MY ASS OUT OF JAIL!!” I take a deep breath before telling him where exactly I am, and hanging up before he can reply.
Four hours later, my clothes are thrown into the cell, and I can finally take off these overalls. A guard takes me out to the front desk, where Jay’s waiting. I acknowledge him with a curt nod, and sign some papers that are pushed towards me, and the desk sergeant gives me Leelu’s keys.
“She’s out the back.” He gives me a wink, and I manage a small smile. At least she’s okay. I walk past Jay, really not wanting to spend any more time than necessary with someone who can’t stand to have me around.
“Thanks. Give me a ring, let me know what I owe you.” And I’m out the door on my way to find Leelu before he can say a word.
Jay: Yeah, OK, I know I was an ass last time we met. But that was 'cause I could barely stand on my own two feet without feelin' like I was dyin'. Now you're playin' the hard one, tryin' not to show me how much bein' behind bars bothered ya. Well, I know that look, I know that feelin'. Humiliation and anger and fear as what's gonna come next. Oh, do I know.
So you're checkin' out Leelu, makin' sure she's OK, not knowin' that I just pulled out more money than I own in the world against Dad’s bank account to bail you outta jail.
"I can tell ya what ya owe right now, man," I make my voice hard, so you'll actually look up at me as I lean against the wall. "Ya owe me a fuckin' beer." I pull a smoke outta my pocket and light it, givin' ya a wry grin as I soften my voice now that you're listenin'. "And a fuckin' explanation why ya drug me down here so early. Not used to seein' the cops 'fore sundown. You're breakin' my streak, Paris."
Paris: Leelu’s sitting in a parking bay, and she looks fine, but I give her the once over anyway. Right now, she’s the only thing I’m pleased to see, and I wonder why the hell you’ve followed me out. I glance over at you. Explanation?
“Dave’s out of town, and since I knew this had something to do with you, you were my next choice.” I don’t tell you that you were my only choice. “As far as explanations go, I finally found out what happened in the hospital. I was arrested for assault, and why the hell they thought I was Norweigian is beyond me!!”
My eyes are blazing, but the look on your face has a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. The absurdity hits me, and I’m almost grinning despite myself.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You must have know that this would happen sooner or later?”
Jay: "Tell ya what, exactly?" I can see you're fightin' a smile, and though this usually isn't my bit, I know I gotta try to cheer you up at least a little bit before ya turn your back on me completely. "I told ya about Theo freakin' out last time he saw his Dad, goin' all ape-shit when they doped Theoden up with a needle. He started babblin' in Rohirric, and I thought fast and told 'em he was my cousin from Norway." I shrug a bit, draggin' off my smoke. "Did I forget to mention to ya the part about him givin' the asshole doctor a broken nose? I was pretty proud of him. Been wantin' to do that myself for days."
I can't read the look on your face, and I ignore the tug in my chest as I look into your eyes. If you were Theo, I'd know exactly what you were thinkin' at this moment. But you're not, and I can't let myself forget it. You're your own man . . .not my man. But maybe, somehow, we can be friends someday. Make life a fuck of a lot less awkward, I can tell ya that.And a hell of a lot less lonely.
Won't say it to your face, but it makes me feel strangely good to know you'd call me second in line to Dave. Yeah, I owe ya for draggin' my broken ass from that beach in Foxton last week and drivin' us home, but there's more to this than that. We may not like it, but Theo's bound us in ways neither of us wanna admit. Might as well try to be civil about it.
"So, do I get my fuckin' beer or not? I left the house so quick I didn't get my breakfast." I wink at you, and stroll over to Brego. Sure as fuck not tellin' ya what I decided to name my Harley. Not 'til I tell Theo, at least.
If I ever see him again.
Paris: A smile finally breaks through at the mention of your “Norwegian cousin”, and knowing Theo, I can imagine his reaction to anyone he thought was hurting TheodenI knew that something had happened from our ride back from the beach, it’s just good to know the details.
Buying you a beer will delay the inevitable of going back to an empty house, knowing where Dave is, but I have to admit, it’s a bit weird, the thought of hanging around with someone who’s effectively fucked me, even though I’ve got no memory of it. Suppose we’re never gonna be able to avoid each other, though, not with Theo in both our lives, and right at this moment, I need the company, so what the hell?
“Okay, you get your beer, so long as we go somewhere I can eat. I’m starving, so I’ll even buy you actual food too!” Then I notice the Harley, and follow you over to it. “Nice bike! A step up from the Lincoln?” I grin as you flash me a look, and head back to Leelu. “I’ll follow you.” I shout over my shoulder. You nod, before pulling out of the car park, and I take off after you into the traffic.
Jay: "Fuckin' hell, I think a Pinto would be a step up from that beast," I snort when you mention the Lincoln. But I gotta admit to myself there's a soft spot in me for the Hearse, and more than just as a good piece of machinery. She and I went through a lot together, and she deserves her props. But private props.
I lead you through the streets, enjoyin' the feel of dodgin' and weavin' between the slower, clunkier cars. Nothin' moves like a bike, and I'm pleased to see Leelu keepin' up with Brego just fine. In fact, you're so damn good at playin' the traffic with another bike, I start to wonder where you learned to ride like that.
I ask you about it once we’ve ordered our meals, sittin' across from each other at some greasy-spoon diner I've passed by a few times but never actually tried. I'd thought briefly about goin' back to that beach café, but for some reason I felt it was important not to re-create the scenes I played out with Theo. Gotta draw the lines. Paris. Theo. Not the same.
Paris: I take a swig of coffee while we’re waiting for our food. It’s hot and black, and surprisingly good and after the last 24 hours, sitting here talking with you is giving a little normality back to my life.
“My Dad always had bikes. He gave my brother Steve and me a couple of dirt bikes to fix up when I was 14. Used to take them out on a patch of scrub land behind the house, ride around for hours. Then I did a bit of courier work round Auckland, before I left.” Now that’s a memory I haven’t visited for a while, brings up too many thoughts of Jason, I suppose. “And just spent the summer down on the south island working for a bike touring company. Sweet gig. Got to ride around on the bike all day, and hang out with a decent group of people. Was the best summer I’ve had for a while.”
Food arrives, plates piled full of eggs and stuff fresh off the griddle, and it tastes like heaven. I dig in like I’m starving. Half a plateful and another swig of coffee later, and I continue rambling.
“First thing I did when I bought Leelu two years ago was head back to Auckland to show her off to Steve. Course, he’s gone over to the dark side now.” I grin at you. “He’s become this big corporate guy, drives a flash Merc sports car, but he can still appreciate a good bike when he sees one.”
The waitress tops up our coffee. “What about you? How’d you end up a mechanic in New York?”
Jay: "My condolences about your brother," I wink at you as the waitress refills our coffee. "But, don't worry, he'll be back. Soon as he hits his mid-life crisis, he'll have the biggest fuckin' hog on the road. With a stereo in it so he can listen to Born to be Wild while he cruises to his office. Just wait."
When you ask me how I became a mechanic, I have to stop and really think for a second. "Well, back when I was a kid in England, seemed the only thing I was good at was tearin' things apart. Telephones, toasters, bicycles, anythin' that had movin' parts, I wanted to see how it worked. So Dad figured it'd be best if I also learned how to put things together again. My uncle, Mum's brother, owned a garage, and I'd hang out there after school and watch him put the cars together. He figured out quick he could get some free child slave labor, and soon I was right there under the hood with him. Small fingers and all that. Kinda carried it with me when Mum and I moved to New York. Didn't know any mechanics there, but there were lots of shops in the area that were glad to have a free hand now and again. Fixin' cars and motorcycles is about the only thing I know I'm really fuckin' good at, and damn if I don't love it."
I've been babblin' again, so I dive back into my pile of scrambled eggs. This is kinda weird, but nice. Been a while since I've had anyone to talk shop with at all.
"So what led to actin'? Ya seem like a decent guy," I smirk at you, lettin' ya know I'm deliberately givin' ya a hard time. "what led ya down the spiral?"
Paris: It’s easy to laugh at your predictions for Steve, cause I know that’s exactly what will happen, just give him another 10 years or so.
I answer your smirk with a grin. “One bit part doesn’t mean I’m an actor! All that standing around, take after take for a couple of minutes footage? Not my thing. That one role got me Leelu, but I’m not interested in doing it again. But I suppose I was just in the right place at the right time; just happened to be passing through when they were looking for extras, and, well, you know the rest.”
You’re relaxed around me today, which is good, cause I’m enjoying the company, so although I don’t mind talking about Theo if you want to, I’m not gonna bring the subject up. And I’m finding it really easy to open up and talk today. Maybe that’s what being locked up for the night will do for you, or maybe it’s fueled by this lonely ache, knowing where Dave is right now.
“I’m a carpenter, trained up with my Dad’s construction firm. When he realised I was serious about not going to Uni, he dragged my ass off to work for him every school holiday, so I know all about working for nothing for family!” I drain my coffee mug. “Been travelling around Zid for the past few years,” Has it really been seven years since … “and did a year in Australia, taking whatever work there was when I needed to. Never really settled anywhere before.” There’s a sad smile on my face as I think about that. “Maybe I still haven’t.” I stare out of the window at Leelu for a moment, then something occurs to me.
“What about you? Your Dad was in the Rings movies, and you never visited the set and got roped in as an extra?”
Jay: When I hear your laugh, a weird sorta relief fills me. No pang, no ache; nothin' but the satisfaction of seein' some of the creases smooth from your brow. A night in jail can be rough on a guy, even if he's used to it. If nothin' else, makes ya bored as hell and willin' to talk to just about anyone.
Like I'm one to fuckin' talk, though, haven't been out of the house on the Hill since the Playboys gig. Gareth's been busy with the band, bar, and boyfriend since then; and fuck if I'm callin' that choad-weasel Des to hang out. Sure as hell wasn't expectin' to be havin' breakfast with you today, or really ever for that matter. The more you talk, though, the more I can tell you're a facinatin' case, a real lone wolf, judgin' by the story you're spinnin' and that almost conspiratorial look you exchange with your bike out in the parkin' lot.
But there's a sadness to you, like there's somethin' eatin' at you. I remember then that you mentioned Dave was outta town, and I wonder if your mood's got more to do with that than with your overnight stint in the clink. But I ain't askin'. None of my fuckin' business.
When you ask me about workin' on the movies, I snort into my cup of coffee. "This look like the face of an actor to you?" I point at myself and shake my head. "Naw man. Mum had a hard enough time gettin' me to sit still long enough for family pictures, so I sure as hell ain't standin' around for hours on end just so I can I repeat the same lines over and over. Dad's told me enough about the craft. I ain't that stupid." Never mind the fact I was kinda. . .outta touch with Dad for most of the shoot. Just kinda worked out that my prison sentence was pretty much exactly the span of time Dad was workin’ on Lord of the Rings, but I’m not sure I’m ready to tell ya things like that. So I opt for the safer excuse.
"'sides," I continue after swallowin' a bite out of my English muffin, "Ever since I visited him in Kenya for Ghost and the Darkness, I haven't been one much for locations." I shudder, willin' to let it drop, but your curious look urges me to continue. "No big deal really. I was like, 18, summer before NYU, Dad thought it'd be a fun way for us to spend some time together, get me out to see the world, meet some movie stars, yaddah, yaddah. Brilliant idea, yeah? Well two days after I get to the location on the savannah I get dysentery. No shit. Had to be flown by helicopter to the nearest hospital, got better just in time to go home and start college. So yeah, not one much for travel to exotic lands like wild Zid." Fuck, did I just call New Zealand Zid? I've been hangin' out here too long.
Paris: I can’t help but laugh at the dysentery story, and you give me a pained look. “Sorry. Must have been awful!” But I’m still repressing a grin. “Zid?? You’re beginning to sound like a local! Okay, not quite, but now that your Dad’s okay, you planning on sticking around, or are you heading back to the states?”
Jay: I grimace, but try to hide it beneath another slurp of coffee. "Well, Dad's got his head back, yeah, but the fuck-wads at the hospital won't let him out yet. Want to 'keep him under observation,' or some shit like that, make sure he doesn't relapse." I sigh, and unconsciously shred a greasy strip off my napkin. "They still won't let me see him. But at least we can talk on the phone now. So, I know I'm stickin' around for a few more weeks at least, kinda help ease his re-entry back into the real world." And fuck if it ain't gonna be a rough landin' when I finally have to tell him about Claudia.
Paris: I sit and finish my pastry while you talk. I’m enjoying the company, real company, cause although Theo is good to have around, it’s a bit like having an imaginary friend, and I’m not even gonna think of Dave right now. I’m just about to ask if you wanna grab a beer and shoot a couple of games of pool, when I feel it. Like a tickle at the back of my mind, and I know that any minute, one bored, pissed off Rohirrim is gonna be checking in to see what distraction I can give him today. And sitting right in front of me is the one distraction he really wants. The only reason he hasn’t shifted back in so far is that he knows the pain he felt when he shifted is shared. Which is a good thing, as having Theo around again would freak Dave out. Not that I actually care at the moment. But then this is the first time I’ve seen you since dropping you off that morning, and I don’t know how he’ll react if you’re here.
He’s also gonna want to know why I slammed the link shut last night. I know that it’s gonna take a while for him to heal, and sitting around doing nothing isn’t him, but so far we’ve covered the finer, and the dirtier points of several martial arts, he’s checked out his new sword, and is impressed with my choice, I’m fairly confident he can now ride a bike, but don’t think I’ll be handing him the keys to Leelu anytime soon, and we’ve had several long, rambling conversations, mainly when I’ve been out with the Brat … Ah shit! Isean!!
I knock the rest of my coffee back in a hurry. “I gotta go, mate! Dave’s … we’ve got a puppy, and she’s been on her own all night. Totally slipped my mind.” Then I’m on my feet, pulling my jacket on. “You wanna shoot a couple of games of pool later, grab a few beers? Listen, why don’t you follow me back to the house, I’ll do what I need to do, then we can go in search of a pool table?”
Jay: I give you a puzzled look when you start getting so frantic about the pup bein' on it's own. "What, you're afraid it invited all its friends over and trashed the house in the night?" Never been much of a dog person, myself, can't stand all that droolin', beggin', and whinin'. . . at least, not from an animal. Cats have always been more my speed, and I know my little girl Jett can take care of herself. All I gotta do is leave the skylight window open a crack and set out a bowl of dry cat food, and she'll wander back home when she's damn good and ready.
"Pool?" My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Breakfast with you was one thing, but I'll admit I'm pretty surprised you wanna make an afternoon of it. And more than a little pleased. "You have no idea what you're gettin' yourself into, man." I grin wickedly at you as I grab my jacket and follow you up the register. You're a weird one, Paris. But you're OK in my book.
