green eyes in the dark

Chapter 15

I'm in Green's old bedroom, in its old bed, but I doubt it has ever slept in it. Green is still asking me if I'm okay. I keep answering I'm fine. It sighs in abandonment.

- Come downstairs and help me make this stupid lasagna then.

- I think it's the closest I've ever heard of you cursing, Green, what's happening.

I say that laughing, but Green is dead serious.

- Well you are the one making me.

It doesn't give me the time to catch the meaning of its words, when the room is left empty. I'm still hungry. I don't even want to think about it. I don't want to think about anything. I walk in the hallway, the floor creaking under my feet. I like the sound of it. The house seems more real. I realize the pictures on the walls. In one, a family laughing, in another, an old man sitting in a wheelchair reading what seems like the best book he has ever read, in another, children all playing together to different games. I laugh a bit.

- My favorite one. Also the last one before I left. Mary, Carter, June, Dylan, they probably could be your parents today. But they're not. I would've known.

- Yeah, well my mom's name is June. She always loved summer, mostly june. I always thought it was because of her name, but I'm starting to get it. Fall stays my favourite season. The colours are so beautiful, and the rain, it's never too hot. Taking walks when it's sunny in fall makes the colours even brighter. It's just so wonderful.

Green is staring at me like I'm from another dimension, but not in a bad way. All the questions that come to my mind are quickly answered.

- You sparkle.

- What?

- Your eyes, they sparkle when you talk about something that makes you... more than happy. They looked the same when you were telling the story. It made you feel good to the point where you didn't need anybody to make you feel good. It...

It stops and turns around like it doesn't want me to look at it. Just like it is ashamed of something. Ashamed of what it was about to say. I don't want it to be uncomfortable. I simply don't talk about it. I open my mouth to change the subject, but Green speaks first.

- So your mother's name is June? What a coincidence. Well if your dad's name was Dylan there might be a chance that this is your mother.

- My dad's name is Matthew. Left when I was five. Pretty aggressive man, I'll tell you. He was a writer, and a good one. Probably where I got my love for writing.

I'm thinking about my dad now. Twelve years since I last saw him. Then I think about something else. If Green knew people who could have been my parents, it means it did not kill everybody who came in the tunnel, and it did go outside. It wasn't because Green didn't like people. It was scared to getting attached, but it did happen a few times.

- I was always able to turn them off, I simply would choose not to. They were nice to me, and I was nice to them. They were my friends. There is a possibility that June is your mom but I will never know except if I go see your mom and talk to her about me, which is not going to happen. Ever. Now, those pastas must be cooked.

- Probably more burnt.

I say that as I chuckle. Downstairs, the smell is telling me I was right about the pastas. Green doesn't seem to care. It just throws the burnt pastas in the trash, puts the pot in the sink. It takes out another pot, and an unopened package of macaroni. It empties it in the pot, and fills it with water. Green puts it over the oven, turns the fire on and takes out a pan. It goes to the fridge and takes out some ingredients, I'm guessing to make a sauce that would go with the macaroni. Cheese, milk, pepper, tomatoes, basil, flour, pork. I have no idea what it intends to do with all of these. It seems really at ease, like it's calming Green to do this. I am now realizing that cooking for me made Green happy not only because it made me happy, but also because it could think through every thing that was happening, Green was just in its element.