Mikey and the Chickadee

Chapter 16 - Part 1

Mikey's hands covered his face after he propped himself up against the headboard the next morning. Out the window, his building cast a commanding shadow across the street and halfway up the next row of structures. Otherwise, the sun shone new and bright, completely unimpeded.

"Oh, god," he said into his palms. "Last night. I can't believe we did that." He removed his hands, confirming what I had suspected to be his familiar coy smile—which I was relieved to see.

I lifted the comforter over my face, feigning embarrassment. "I know. You really laid into me."

"Oh, god," he repeated. "Okay. So it's happened. You're feeling okay about it?"

Mentally, I surveyed myself. "A little sore already," I conceded. "But that's nothing to be upset about."

"Jesus. So...one gets sore, then, after that."

I nodded, still undercover. "Yes, Mikey, one gets sore."

He tore the comforter down off my face and I grinned up at him. "Okay," he said. "Just making sure you were into it."

"Into it? I was at least halfway responsible for it. Probably more than half."

"Okay," he said again. "I don't mean to dwell on it. I just didn't want to spend the whole day wondering."

"I understand. And I'm happy to dwell on it. I mean, fuck, you completely plowed me."

"Stop," he said.

"I'm serious. I could think about it all day."

His face flushed slightly with embarrassment. He rolled halfway on top of me and placed his hand over my mouth. "Another subject, please."

I pulled it off, down to my chest. The thought came to me suddenly. "Say something to me in Thai."

"No," he said. "Thai is an ugly language."

I pushed him off of me. "No it's not. How could you say that?"

"What? It's all nasal and whiny. I don't like using it except with family."

"It only sounds that way to people who don't understand it."

"Oh, and you understand it?"

I paused. "No, but I understand that it's an entire language that can communicate everything about how someone feels in life. Love, sadness—I don't know—regret, fear, joy, just...everything."

Mikey fell silent. The corners of his mouth turned up, as if he was determined not to smile. It all amounted to something akin to admiration. He sighed. "Maybe sometime, Chickadee." His words sank with finality.

"Okay," I said.

Mikey cooked eggs for breakfast and I poured us both some cereal.

"It's warm out," he said, staring wide-eyed down at his phone as we began to eat. "That changed fast. We should walk by the water."

"The levee or the seawall?"

"I want to go to the levee. Maybe farther south again, where we were before. We could stop by your place first, if you want."

"Sure," I said. "I can grab my running shoes. It would be nice to change clothes, too."

"Alright, yeah, let's run. I'm going to be slow, though."

"Yeah right," I said.

Each of us also chugged down a fair amount of water. He told me he felt a slight headache, which he attributed to last night's nontrivial degree of consumption. I remarked that I felt good as new, which surprised me.