Chapter 2 - Delirium
i am not bound by this word
CRAZY
i am not insane nor am i delusional
the only difference between you and me is simply that i can
SEE
It's been a while since I've felt warm, the alleyways provide no comfort, the large garbage bins do nothing to shield from the bitter winds. The only thing offering of some relief are the entourage. George is the perfect example, he has a nice heart and a rough face. The man looks like a typical hobo, scruffy dark beard, uneven head of hair covered by a dark tuque, oversized trench coat that rustles with the newspaper fill, torn up steel-toed boots. Most people will glance at him and scoff, but I look at him and I can feel the way his heart thumps, I hear it in my head. I look at him and I see a pair of kaleidoscope eyes, flickering with fire and noise from his head.
Marcus is a tall man, quiet and very possessive. He sticks much to himself and is a huge 'pack-rat'. I swear he still has these mini Dora gloves he found a few years back. Most people, including George, are quite scared of him, but I know better. I can see the way he hurts, the way his bones creak and crack like old floor boards, and of course how he smiles under his scarf at all the passersby even when his eyes look as hard as stone.
The rest of the Company come and go, they whisper from the walls, between the bricks, and sit around. They don't talk much, but I hear them in my head, their voices are like whispers and they speak in a language that only I seem to understand, because when they speak nobody else listens.
They used to call me names, Crazy, Delusional, Abnormal, Insane, Deranged, Screwy. I never understood those words, all I know is that the others were all blind. How could they not see what's right in front of them? Or even understand the most simple of languages? Of course, I was never always like this, not until He came along. But I think they finally got tired of me not listening to the names though, because they stopped after I found George and Marcus at our place.
We stay near a Food Bank, right next to it actually. Well, in the alleyway, that is. On lucky days, the Company show me where the nearby restaurants had thrown out some food we can have, and sometimes we even find ratty clothes we can add to our layers.
I like to think of us as a family of sorts, they never call me names and we always share the food. It's kind of nice, Marcus, George and I, oh and December. December is my best friend, and everybody calls him names too. He hides it better than I do, he hardly ever speaks like me.
Sometimes I get really sad because I don't know why I'm like this, all I really want is to be like everybody else. Go to school and have boy problems, have school dances and friends to play with. it's the only thing I've ever wanted.
"Hey, ducklin'," George always called me that. "soup kitchen's open." He towered over me, his hand outstretched. "That is, if you want to come with Marcus and I." His beard twitched a bit, and I knew he was smiling at me.
"Of course, Georgie!" I took hold of his rough hand and pulled myself up, walking hand in hand with him. Sometimes, at times like this, I wonder if this is what it's like to have a parent.
"Ducky!" His voice ran through the soup kitchen, echoing through the walls filled with bustling people, hearty laughter and the thick smell of cream soup and garlic bread.
"December!" I stood up from my side beside George and ran to him.
"My God, Duc-Duck! I haven't seen you in ages!" His long arms wrapped around my torso, mine wrapped around his as well. He had grown over the summer, getting taller and wider as well. He smelled the same though, the familiar scent of cinnamon and lemons.
"I've missed you..." I whispered into his chest, nuzzling my face in. "Don't you dare leave for vacation again!" December's chest heaved with laughter.
"I said I was sorry!" He pulled away from me. "Now, where is everybody? I've got some presents." Without waiting for an answer, he walked to our regular table on the farthest left with large strides.
"Hey!" I jogged to catch up with him. "You know how we feel about gifts, December." I scolded, hanging onto his long sleeved shirt. "We don't want your hand-outs..."
I heard him sigh, stopping in his tracks and turning to face me, nearly making me fall into him. "Oh Ducky... You know they're not 'hand-outs'," He lifted his fingers to use the fake quotation marks in the air. "they're gifts! Presents! From one friend to another."
"Please, just take it, just this once." December had this exasperated look on his face. Every time he offered something, or gave us something, we had always refused. And if he didn't take it back, well we would give it to somebody who needed it more (much to Marcus' dismay).
It took me s few minutes of just standing there to finally give him a nod. "Fine, just this once." It paid off after I saw his smile.
~~~
All in all, Marcus and George got new watches, I got a new pair of shoes, a bundle of hair ties and we all got new clothes and blankets. I had to admit, it felt pretty good to get gifts.
"I'm sorry to break up this happy fest you guys," December spoke from beside me. "but I just have to warn you guys." He took a rolled up newspaper from the bag he put the presents in and spread it out on the table.
SERIES OF MURDERS AND DISSAPEARANCES RAGE THROUGH AMERICA
As of this month, there have been 17 reported cases of murders and 12 missing persons reports... There is no suspect as of yet....The murders range from the ages of 5 to 97, all sporadically all over the country...We urge you to stay in your homes, lock all your cars and homes and keep all children....You can find a list of the victims and missing persons on page 7 of The Daily Spark....If anybody has any information please contact the police department immediately at....
"You guys need to be safe." December set at the edge of his seat, his foot tapping nervously. "I don't... I can't have anything bad happen to you." He bit his lip nervously, as if he knew something but wasn't telling us.
"What are you hiding, December?" I whispered so that only he could hear.
"Nothing, Ducky... Don't worry about it." He smiled slightly, but his eyes betrayed him. I thought he knew better, I've told him before that it was easy to tell when he was lying, because everything about him turned a dark red and black. Nobody else saw it, nobody else noticed the way he flickered blue then black then red, but I did.
"You're changing again." I held out my hand to touch his shoulder, but it hurt when I touched those colors. "It's hard this time, it hurts, December...."
His face twisted into an unlovely grimace, like he understood what all of the colors meant. I think I might've known as well once, but those memories are long gone. December told me it was okay to forget, but forgetting simple things like my name aren't normal. I'm not okay.
"It's okay, I'm okay..." He tried moving away from me, but that only made the colors worse. The scarlet and black tongues flicked at me, feeling like a thousand rubber band snaps. I cried out softly and got up to sit next to Marcus on the opposite side of the table. I could still feel the stings, but just barely.
"What's wrong, duckling?" George asked gruffly, still shovelling soup into his mouth. The creamy substance dripped down his beard and onto his hands.
Suppressing a giggle, I shook my head. "Nothing, it just felt a bit cramped on that side of the table." The dark-skinned man nodded and continued shoving heaps of mushroom soup into his face.
"You're going to get sick that way, you know." December teased him, and we all laughed. Maybe it was all okay...
