Volume VI: And Introducing Harley Morrow As - Herself

24. End of Intermission

        The story concluded - I sat in silence. A cloud of smoke had settled overhead. The ashtray needed emptying, actually...we needed more cigarettes. What was I supposed to say? He had given me a piece of his life. A tragic piece - sharp and dangerous. What was I supposed to do with it? Was I supposed to bury it? Pretend this never happened? Console him? No. He was an adult - he didn’t need comfort. Even if he did, it wasn’t my place. I just so happened to be here at the time. A quirk of fate. Nothing more.

        There was that uncomfortable stretch of time when you don’t really know what to do. Nobody talks because you’re both listening strenuously for the slightest sound to clue you into the truth. We were waiting anxiously for something to snap.

        “Happy now?” he muttered. His head was low, the smoke trailing from the cigarette held carelessly in his hand. He kept his eyes pinned to the floor, on my feet. I shrugged my shoulders and got up, pacing around slowly, forcing him to move if he wanted to keep his eyes on me.

        “Now we’re even.”

        “Why does it matter?”

        I turned back at him. “It doesn’t. That’s the point.”

        He shook his head. “Do you have any idea what you’re talking about?”

        I turned and smiled at him. “Sometimes.”

        “And the rest of the time?”

        “I make it up as I go along and try to move quick enough for nobody to notice.”

        And he laughed a little to himself, a reserved laugh that hid behind his pain, behind his misery. A laugh that showed his weakness, or that showed his lack thereof. He hadn’t laughed in ages. When he did, it was hidden in other emotions, buried too deep to get out.

        “You’re not scared of anything, are you?” he asked. He dared to look up at me for a moment. I thought about it for a bit.

        “I never was too crazy about spiders...”

        And he laughed again, louder this time, coughing on the smoke. I smiled as best as I could manage. As much as I resented being here, being under containment, it wasn’t the worst situation in the world. Things could always be a lot worse.

        There was a child captive in the man’s body, a younger, bolder self - dying to be free. We all had one, but his was visible on the surface, screaming through his eyes. I finished my smoke and went back to where he was to put it out. I was within arm’s reach; the usual chill ran down my spine. I hated being closer than I had to be. It was just...intolerable. He reached a hand out to touch my arm. I jumped and he pulled back quick.

        “Touchy?”

        “Slightly.”

        “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his eyes returning to the floor. I shook my head defiantly.

        “No reason to be.”

        He shook his head, but it was more of an absentminded nod. He was still looking at the ground. He agreed in barely audible tones and the topic dropped. He got up and shifted past me carefully, staying out of reach. I was out of range and so was he.

        “I’m going to sleep,” he said finally, after he’d gotten past. I nodded and watched him go, sitting myself back down to think.

        He wasn’t a scumbag. He was human in there. He had a heart and soul and cared. But then again, he was working for the enemy. He was playing both sides. Unless he had an ulterior motive. Unless he was only on this side of the line to gain something.