Bluebird // Phan

Chapter 9: IX

IX

The car's silence didn't last for long. After about fifteen minutes, Elise suggested they play a game of eye-spy and Bernie gave a warm agreement. They seemed like a soppily loving couple; like those perfect ones on TV and soap operas, all the colour shaded between the lines.
"Eye-spy with my little eye, something beginning with . . . B," Elise began.

"Blue," Dan guessed.

"Nope."

"Bird," he guessed again.

"Nope."

Dan nudged Phil's side, softly urging, "Have a guess."

"Uh," Phil thought aloud for a moment, eyes scanning the interior of the car. "Bernie?"

"No, dear," Elise laughed.

Bernie was chuckling. "Good one, though."

An ocean of failing guesses executed then, bridge, butterfly, bag, bank, every attempt rising a shake of the head out of Elise. The boys chirped answers from the backseat, trying, like the children they were, to defeat one another. But eventually, as they rode down a busy motorway, Phil claimed victory.

"Bike?"

"Yes!" Elise cheered with an exaggerated enthusiasm. "Finally! I thought you were never going to get it."

"Oh, go on then, Phil. Have a go," Dan said with a smile.

"Okay," Phil gazed out of the window, thinking hard. His eyes scanned the extensions of verdant field behind the road until they slowed, stuck. He looked away. "Eye-spy with my little eye, something beginning with C."

"Car," Bernie tried.

"No."

"Cab."

"Nope."

"Cap?" Elise attempted.

"Nope."

Dan peered out of the window, tactfully following where Phil's eyes had previously wandered. "Cow?"

"Yeah," Phil grinned at the boy. "Dan got it."

"That was a good one," Elise said. "Your turn then, Dan."

The game continued for another few rounds. As the morning prolonged, it began to rain again, much harder than it had earlier. Bernie put on the radio after Elise's suggestion and Phil rested his head against the window, watching as cars zipped past through the muzzy glass.

Dan nudged him after a little while and muttered, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he lifted his head, looked at him and sighed. "I just-I miss Martyn already."

"It's okay, you're allowed to," Dan smiled.

"I don't really want to, though."

"It's probably just because you're thinking about it. Do you want to play another game?" he encouraged, pleasant and attentive.

"I don't know if I'm up to it," Phil's sigh was nothing short of apathetic.

"Hey," Dan poked his cheek. "What have you done with Mr. Bright Side?"

Phil, now really just trying to prove a point, suppressed a laugh readily in his stomach. He put a hand to his face and shrugged.

"Can you tell him to come back, if you know where he is? I miss him," he paused, anticipating a response. "I'm gonna put up some missing person posters."

Phil surrendered and a laugh fractured across his ribs as he pushed Dan's shoulder, weakly. "You're an idiot," he said, between humoured grins and fond gazes.