The Lemon Meringue Boy

Part 35

With the boat tied up (courtesy of Mabel), we headed back to the shack. When we arrived, Grenda greeted us at the door. 

"Quick, wash up before your lunch gets cold! God, I have to do everything around here!" I wondered if the cooking had gone to her head. Stan looked confused.

"Did I miss something here?"

"Oddly, not much." 

We went to take our seats in front of eight steaming mounds of beef stew. Conversation was at a lull; everyone was exhausted from the day's activities. Each person surrounding the table had had a big day. The only reason that Mabel's friends hadn't come with us was because Wendy was having a party. I was bummed I missed it, but I preferred spending my day with my great uncles to spinning the bottle with a group of teens. Funny how a while back I would've given an arm and a leg to go.

Once lunch was over, I waited until everybody went their separate ways. Bill had been alone all day. I hoped he hadn't caused too much trouble. I wasn't as nervous as I probably should have been though. There was something about his fear of people that soothed me. He wasn't in a rush to make a nuisance of himself when he was terrified of being discovered. Before I could get up to make my way downstairs, Soos stopped me.

"Wait dude. I should probably let you know that I heard a big crash from the vents. I woulda gone down myself, but raccoons creep me out. Just a heads up hambone." A crash. From the basement. I felt the color drain from my face.

"YEP! Raccoons!" I yelped a little too cheerfully. I spun on my heel and sprinted to the vending machine, punching in the code way too hard, my finger bending at the first knuckle. I leaned against the door as the cable creaked, moving the elevator way too slow. When the clunky metal door slid open, I bolted down the stairs as fast as my legs would carry me.

"BILL!" I whisper-screamed. "Where are you?! You were supposed to be quiet! Soos said he_" I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.

 The door to one of the extending rooms was open and glass littered the floor. A thin brown liquid stained the floor, emitting a rank, alcoholic smell. I had forgotten all about Stan's beer cellar. When I creaked open the door I saw him. He was lying face up on the beer cooler, his yellow bricks tinted green.

 "Are you INSANE?!" He looked up and his dilated eye brimmed with drowsy excitement.

"Pine tree! Y-ou gotta try this stu-uff." His words were slurred and fuzzy, almost static, and he hiccupped every few seconds in a glitching sound that could be mistaken for his voice in the void. Except this time, he had no excuse for his loss of diction. He slid off the cooler, falling flat on his face before getting up and running over.

 "Pine Tr-ree, this stuff is magical! *hic* And I would know!" I grabbed him by the arm and lifted him so he dangled in front of my face. He smelled like vinegar and rotten fruit, his eye half closed with lethargy. "Heh. So forceful..."

"Listen here you equilateral ass! I'm trying my best to keep you from being caught but I don't know why I try because it's quite obvious you don't give a damn whether you live or die! I leave you down here for just a few measily hours and you somehow still find a way to maintain the title of the most annoying piece of shit ever created! I don't know why I keep sticking my neck out for you! You don't even care!" 

Bill didn't try to defend himself. For a while we just looked at each other, his expression snarky and glazed. Then he started to chuckle to himself. "What's so funny?!"

"You look so ho-ot when your ma-ad." He laughed when my face reddened. "You-ur just as easily fla-attered as Sixer. Weak." He laughed more. I dropped him. Hot? No, I heard wrong. The hiccup made it sound wrong.

"Why would you even think this was a good idea?!" I regained my composure and stared down Bill as he staggered dizzily to his feet.

"Wha-at? Having fun is illegal? Tou-ugh."

"Bill, you're drunk!

"Not "dru-unk". I'm just a li-itle less... Jumbled. You wouldn't bel-lieve me if I told you! Only so much can occupy a mind at one ti-ime. My buildup was off the charts! Prophecies, ri-iddles, infinite knowledge. It just needed a break! I spend so much time pretending I don't ca-are about anything. We-ell guess what? Now I don't! Isn't that great?!" 

It made sense in a weird Bill way, but I wasn't letting him make it an excuse. His incompetence could've cost him his life.

"How do you even drink with no mouth? Wait, I don't want to know. You realize you risked your life for an easy drug trip!" I gathered the remaining bottles off the floor and tossed them in the cooler, slamming it shut with a bang.

 "You so much as hiccup down here and you'll get found out! I don't know why I take this whole thing seriously if you don't bother to!" 

Bill seemed to take what I said to heart, surprisingly, his face dropping its smugness and his eye drifting to the ground.

"You poor, adorable, naïve meatsack. You don't get it. I did this because I was taking it too seriously. That can be fatal for an immortal entity. I take my life seriously and I start thinking. I start thinking, I can't stop. Depression. Anger. Weirdmaggedon. Get it?" His hiccup was gone. He was still drunk though. He called me adorable.

"I don't... Know if I do. It makes sense for... you know, being alone and... I don't..."

"I don't expect you to get it. Nobody can. Trust me when I say it's not fun."

 I soaked it all in. Depression. Was Bill really depressed? It made sense. Being immortal sounds amazing in the stories. But now I know what it's really like. Lonely. Sad. Depressing. Is that why Bill is so messed up? No. he destroyed his dimension. That wasn't because of depression. That was his need for power, his lust for it. Still... Bill.

"Ow! What is this pain?!" Bill grabbed his head and grimaced, snapping me out of my reflection with a start.

"Hangover. It happens after the fun part. Serves you right. There's probably some aspirin in the kitchen, but I'm not gonna be leaving you down here alone for a while." 

Bill looked like he was going to throw up and get a nosebleed at the same time. If he had a nose. If this was what drinking did to a guy, I wanted no part of it.

"You might be getting it worse because you're..." I held my hand out flat and pushed it down a bit. "You know?" 

I had a feeling that Bill might have been offended if he wasn't so busy trying to avoid upchucking all his hard earned booze.

"End the suffering!!!" Bill did not look his best. His face was pale, his eye was scrunched, and he was holding his head like it was about to fall apart. 

I was still hesitant to help though. I couldn't leave Bill alone again. I would have to take him upstairs with me. Even with Ford and Stan and the whole crew milling about. It just wasn't possible. 

 Suddenly, Bill said something that changed my mind, leaving me dumbfounded.

"Pine Tree! Please!"