‘Uuugh… I am never drinking again….’
It was the same thought every time Barney overdrank. The hangover was always a firm reminder of the perils, but sure enough, the very next time his vow would be long forgotten and renewed the following morning. The room swam with the dredges of intoxication. Barney always hated this time of year, the rising sun streamed right through that annoying star window on the east wall. Prisms refracted the light into beautiful rainbows which always seemed to find where his head was laying despite his attempts to avoid it. Every spring he promised he’d install a curtain or a blind or something to stop this from happening. Just another unfulfilled pledge. Insult to injury as each beat of his heart made his skull feel like it was in an ever-tightening vice.
Tired springs and tired limbs lifted as he rose from the mattress. Feet came into contact with the cool floor first. There was an overwhelming desire to just press his head against the scuffed and worn wood and feel the refreshing chill dull his migraine. Clothes molted like a layer of scales as he headed into his private restroom. Other biological needs needed tending to. It ended with a glance in the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and baggy, hair a tousled mess, brow furrowed in dull aches. He looked pathetic, worthy of a snicker or two, only to regret exacerbating his hangover more. Handfuls of water were ferried from the running water to his mouth and greedily slurped down. The aid was minor but the inferno in his throat died down a bit. Slow breathes in his mouth and out his nose held back the worse of the pain as he walked down the hall.
Zaul was humming in the kitchen, soft and light. The chameleon was always humming, alerting Barney of both his mood and location. At first Barney thought it was too much, but the behavior has begun growing on him as of late. This morning’s tune was moderato, in some major key. It brought with it feelings of morning, which would be fine if it wasn’t making his headache worse.
“Mornin’.” He greeted, yawning, walking through the living room.
“Good- Oh! Uh..” His flatmate started. Barney rubbed his eyes to clear some more sleep out of them even though he chose to keep them closed for now. The horse took his place at the table. Apparently, the chameleon had made coffee. The roasted scent of beans wafted from the kitchen. It smelled like manna from heaven.
A lazy finger pointed in the approximate direction of the kettle. “Enough of that for me?”
“Um, yeah. One moment.” He flinched at the sounds of cupboards opening and light but shrill clacks of ceramic mugs brushing past one another. And again reminded himself to never drink again. The aroma of bitter, caffeinated, dark roast neared to his nostrils and a cup was set before him. His eyes were still closed.
“Um, sugar? Cream? Milk?” The uncertain questions continued one after another from his well-intentioned flatmate.
“No.” He wanted it black, a self imposed punishment for his wanton drunkenness last night. How else was he to learn if he didn’t stew in the misery and consequences of his actions? The kitchen fell to silence, well semi-silence. Zaul was fidgeting again, nails tapping across the floor more so than normal. Barney peeked his way. His back was to him, and his tail was wrapped around towards his front. He seemed utterly transfixed by something in the ceiling, a quick glance turned up zero clues as the source of this behavior.
‘What a weird dude.’ He remarked internally. The horse picked up the brew from the table, eyes cresting closed. Mug lingering a moment below his snout to absorb more of those flavorful smells. It was probably instant coffee, but it smelled strong and hopefully tasted just as so. The first sip of nearly scalding liquid passed down his gullet, tracing rivers of warmth through his core. It beat back the cold, early, spring morning chill that was slipping through him. He sighed, it was well and truly heavenly. Barney gave Zaul another little glance, he hadn’t moved, still transfixed with whatever haunted the rafters above. Zaul may have been an odd one, but this was a new level of strange behavior. And it piqued his interest.
“You good?”
“Oh! Yep, fine! All fine. Just up and, um, dressed and ready to face the day!” There was a false bravado in his answer, Barney raised an eyebrow.
‘You sure?”
“Oh, yep. I’m fine, all good. Nothing to see here! I’ll just, uh, head back to my room for a bit. Just gotta get around you.” He made this awkward waddle as he shimmied along the counter towards the other side of the kitchen. It didn’t stop as he made his way through the dining nook back towards the sitting room. His eyes were always looking skyward. Barney was wracking his brain for a reason for the sudden change in behavior. He was just fine last night, and he seemed pretty fine when he showed up late after Barney came home. After he had started drinking.
“Ah, fuck!” The horse smacked himself in the face, daggers of pain echoed about his skull. “I did something last night, didn’t I?” The chameleon stopped moving but didn’t turn around.
“Umm…”
“Ahh, look, ain’t no excuse but I was drunk and work pissed me right off. Whatever I did, I’m sorry.”
“Err..” The chameleon began. Still not turning around. “No, no. You didn’t do anything last night. Or at least, not that I recognized.” Zaul answered slowly.
Barney tilted his head in even more confusion. The simplest explanation was denied and he didn’t have the mental faculties to think of anything else. “Why are you acting odd, then?”
“W-W-What?!” The chameleon chuckled nervously. “I’m not acting odd. Not at all.”
“Oh yeah? So this is now normal for you? Avoiding looking at me?” The questions were lighthearted. Zaul was an odd one for sure, but Barney couldn’t shake the feeling like something must have triggered this reaction.
“Ah, well uh, you know, I just didn’t expect you to be so casual. I mean, I know we haven’t known each other long. I just, wasn’t really prepared…”
“Huh?”
“Like, look. It’s your place, you can do whatever you want. I’ll just hang out in my room.”
Barney was only getting more confused. He opted for a more direct approach. “What are you on about?”
“...Do you not… know?”
‘So I did do something!’ Finally, the conversation could make any sort of meaningful progress.
“Zaul, I’m hungover. Can you just tell me what I did so I can apologize? It must have been pretty stupid.”
The chameleon paused. His head whipping around as if he was grappling with deciding to tell Barney what he did or not. Barney watched him pull in a quick breath of air. A shot of oxygen to fortify his courage.
“You.. uh, walked out here in your skivvies?”
Silence filled the space. ‘No way.’ That was all the horse could think as he looked down. Needing to confirm for himself. Verify independently that he had, indeed, walked out here naked, flashed his flatmate, and then admitted that he had no clue he had. All he saw confirmed his flatmate’s claim and his own blunder. Bright red boxers that gripped tightly to the rest of his anatomy. Barney had to let the silence continue for a while. There was no response for this.
‘No fucking way.’
The awkward tension, the strange behavior from his roommate. It seemed that Barney had indeed done something stupid. Something incredibly stupid. The horse breathed in, inflating the entirety of his lungs and slowly let it shoot out. The hiss echoed across the breakfast nook.
‘Never drinking again!’ He screamed inside. Outside, he seethed.
“...Yes. It seems I have.” There were way too many emotions coursing through his mind, but he had no energy to act on them. And he didn’t want to cause Zaul any further distress. He stood, leaving his steaming coffee on the table.
Zaul seemed to cower into himself more as Barney stood. “Look I didn’t, you know, look. Or stare, I just-”
“No, it’s fine. You’re fine. This is all on me.” The horse assured him as well as himself. “I’ll, umm, just go put some pants on.”
“Yep, sure. No problem!” The replies were still squeaky and high pitched. Barney held back a chuckle as the chameleon stared off into the wall. He seemed to be handling this well. Better than Barney felt. Unfortunately, he stood right in front of the hall.
Barney cleared his throat. “I’ll, uhh, need you to move.”
“Oh, fuck! Right!” The chameleon took a couple of quick steps to the side. Barney noticed the hint of red colors coming around his neck. A contrast to the gray his flatmate normally donned. A smile donned the horse’s face. What was there to do but laugh at the situation? It could have been worse, he could have been nude.
‘I wonder how red he would have been then?’ Barney thought, perhaps a bit deviously. ‘Red enough to match my underwear, perhaps.’
Zaul was still staring at a wall when Barney returned wearing appropriate attire. This time admiring a real object. A portrait hung on the wall, one that had been on the wall for many years. Two horses were in frame, the family resemblance was evident. Barney hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet and so stood only to the shoulder of the other. She was smiling brightly, eyes aglow with verve and pep. Mane curly in the perm that she always wore. Hold over from her growing up in the 80s. This was before it started graying, before her illness, before she needed more care than he could provide here.
Her smile though, it never lost its aura. And this picture failed to replicate it.
“My mum.” He explained. Zaul turned both quickly towards and away from the horse. “Don’t worry. I’m decent now.” He added, smiling to himself.
“Ah, right. She’s quite pretty.” Pointing towards the pair immortalized in time on photo paper.
“Yeah… She is.” Silence draped around the two of them. To his side, Zaul began fidgeting again. “You good?”
“Oh, I just… Would you tell me about her?” Barney hadn’t expected that question. He raised his eyebrows at his companion. He questioned what had spurred this on, but felt that there was nothing wrong with answering.
“She was, is, an amazing woman. Raised me up on her own after my sperm donor stepped out. Raised hell at everyone who said she couldn’t do it alone, she proved them all wrong cause here I am. Busted her ass trying to scrape out a living for us. Never stopped smiling, never stopped believing in herself. She’s my hero.”
“Wow…” Clearly, Zaul was awed.
“Yeah…” Barney confirmed, feeling little sparks of pride light in his chest.
‘Glad to see he agrees!’
“I’m envious.” Barney’s face fell as he looked Zaul’s way. That wasn’t a response that Barney had expected. Most people were quick to offer condolences or superficial sympathy for his past that he didn’t need or expect. He was who he was today because of his mum, he would never feel sorry for himself. Not when he was given more than he could ask for. The chameleon at his side was staring intently at the photo. There was a tightness about his face, a hardness that wasn’t normal on him. Anxious, yes, somewhat awkward, yep. But never so jaded. Barney cocked his head. His own curiosity piquing as well.
“If you don’t mind my asking…” He started. Zaul just shrugged.
“You had one parent who wanted you, both gave me up quick.”
“Damn.” Was all Barney could muster.
“It’s fine. It’s… in the past. Got tossed around, ended up with my foster family. Two right old gold diggers looking to cash in on the check. Kicked us out as soon as we no longer were worth anything to them.“
“Us?”
“Oh! Me and my brothers!” The way Zaul lit up was heartwarming. The eager smile across his face, something that he showed rarely. In fact this was the second time, the first was yesterday while Zaul was playing his guitar. Streaks of yellow tints came to his gray face, an even more telling hint about his rising mood.
“Oh yeah? What are they like?”
Zaul grinned from ear to ear, or well, whatever chameleons have. The yellow tint spreading even more. Barney thought it looked good on him, but then again, anything but gray would have looked good too. ‘Pretty honest guy, aren’t you, Zaul?’
“Ah, fuck, where do I begin? You got any plans this morning, cause we’ll be here all day if I start.”
“Well, let me go grab my coffee.”
-----
The chameleon was eagerly waiting for Barney to return. Practically vibrating in his chair. The horse offered to make the rest of the coffee after interrupting his flatmate with his unfortunate wardrobe slip.
“Careful, it’s hot.”
“Ah, you’re a real one, mate!”
“Yep.”
Barney watched him sip cautiously, getting a feel for the temperature. The horse fell comfortably into the lounge chair near the sliding door towards the porch, opposite of where Zaul was sitting. The floral pattern had long since faded away with exposure to the sun, but it was still snug and cozy. His mum called it an antique, Barney had believed her for years until he saw duplicates at a local consignment store. All his mother said was that whoever they were for must have been quite wealthy. The memory brought a soft smile to his lips as he too imbibed his lukewarm beverage.
“There are four of us.” Barney turned to Zaul, the pleasant yellow dimmed after that initial burst from earlier but the faded colors still gave the chameleon a sunny glow. “Me, Dexter, Kaylor, and Quintin. Brothers by chance than by blood. While our foster parents didn’t give a crap about us, we all did. We looked out for each other, you know? Still do! We didn’t always have a lot, but if it was us together, it was enough. None of our birth parents gave a crap about us, our foster parents were right old assholes. So we had to look out for each other, you know? We would cover for one another when we were caught. Cheat off each other during exams. Steal from the corner store. That sort of thing.” Barney just nodded along with the story. A different person seemed to be inhabiting Zaul’s body. A presence that only now came out as he talked more about his family, more animated than he had been in the past two weeks living here.
“We loved each other more than if we were real family. We kept each other going when it felt like we couldn’t, when the entire world felt against us. I’m not gonna lie, I’m only here cause they kept me going when it got rough.” His eyes got distant. Traveling back to some events that Barney couldn’t possibly begin to guess. The yellow drained from his scales further, back to that dull, cloudy gray.
He was unsure of what to say to that. He settled on “Sounds awful.”
“It’s… It’s in the past.” He repeated. Barney didn’t follow up. The chameleon took in a shaky breath. And then started laughing. “Hey! Sorry about that. There I go almost trauma dumping! Don’t want to make you worry.” Zaul sipped at the coffee before sighing contentedly. “Anyway, we’re close. Still even today. I was actually out with them last night. Two of them anyway.”
“Oh yeah? That’s cool.”
“Yeah, we went to see a movie. Uh, ‘Attack of the Killer…’ something or others.”
Barney’s mug clacked down on the coffee table. “Killer Cambrians! What a damn good movie! Cult classic.”
Clearly surprised by the sudden ramp up of emotion, Zaul held his hand out in confusion. Eyes looking left and right for an answer “How does everyone know that?”
“You haven’t heard of ‘Killer Cambrians’?!”
“Not before last night, no.”
“Ahh, well, tell me! How was it?!!”
“I- Did I watch the same movie as everyone? Like it’s not a good movie and everyone talks like it’s the greatest thing in cinemagraphic history.”
“Well, yeah, but there must have been something? Something you liked?”
“I, well, the music score was pretty good, I guess.”
“See? There it is!”
“I’m sorry, there what is?”
Barney chuckled at the new flashing colors across his scales. Zaul was getting quite invested in the discussion. It seemed. ‘Yep, good in anything but gray.’
“Look, you’re not… wrong. AOKC is not a good movie, technically. But everyone always finds one thing about it to latch onto. One thing about it that makes the experience worthwhile. It’s a running joke all the way back to its premiere. Every critic absolutely tore it to shreds, called it all sorts of crap and whatnot. But each one, every single review pointed out something they liked. Something that was actually good about it. And what’s funnier, none of them agreed on what that thing was. So now it has a reputation of being a great movie but not for any reason that anyone can agree on.”
“Ah… so a cult classic.”
“See? You got it.”
Zaul just snickered and took another sip of his drink. Barney smiled into his own as he brought it to his lips. The horse was feeling good, his headache was subsiding, he was enjoying the company, and the weather outside wasn’t too bad for spring.
“What are the odds I get called into work again tonight?” He wondered aloud. The intrusive thought ruining the moment.
“Oh? Um, uh..” Zaul began stuttering.
“Oh don’t listen to me. Just have my own problems to deal with. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Barney went silent, the thin gray clouds outside the window were coming in. The spring winds were pushing them lazily across the sky.
The moment of silence stretched on as he meditated. The world continued to spin it seemed. Barney heard the fidgets from his companion before he finally asked.
“Do you.. Do you want to talk about it?” Another odd question from the chameleon. Barney didn’t consider himself a private person, just that he would never voluntarily give up information about himself; yet, this was the longest conversation he’s had with anyone outside of work in a while. He plopped his head back against the back of the chair, sighing out a thousand feelings.
“Don’t worry, it’s not your problem.”
“Well, maybe I could help?” Another offer of assistance, Zaul said something similar last night hadn’t he? Barney considered the offer in silence. The chameleon started humming and clacking against his ceramic mug. The tune had changed, it was frantic and uncertain. Barney just smiled out the window.
“You really are an honest guy.” He said.
“Hmm…”
“I’ve been hating my job recently.” Barney powered on without explaining. “I just don’t want to go into work anymore. Everyday is more of the same shit and it just wears on and on. It was fine until a few months ago. I was really happy, and then… I just felt like nothing I was cooking was any good. I was getting into arguments with my coworkers. My manager is a total bitch. We’ve been understaffed for weeks and she refuses to hire anyone more. The schedule is basically all hands on deck every day so I don’t even get days off anymore. Yesterday, I actually had used holiday hours too. Doubt I’m getting those back.”
He felt his pulse start rising even as he tried to keep his voice calm. Zaul didn’t need to hear him shout even if he felt like it. That wouldn’t have helped anyone.
“So… I’m just going through a slump. Not much to do but power through.”
“Sounds like me.”
“Oh yeah?” Barney turned back to his flatmate. His scales were back to gray, contemplating life’s mysteries in his mug of coffee.
“Can’t touch a guitar without feeling this like… grip in my chest. Like I’m just fighting myself to strum. It sucks. It really sucks.”
“Yeah, but you were playing yesterday? Didn’t seem like you were having any trouble.” Zaul cringed a little and looked down the hall.
“I guess, but that was just… It felt like a fluke. Like it’ll never happen again even if I try.”
“Ah.”
“Which sucks cause I have a concert next week.”
“Oh yeah? When?”
“Friday.”
“Well you have a week to figure it out then!” Zaul nodded, but Barney could tell he wasn’t quite feeling it. The horse understood. It was so easy to just say words. “Sounds like you need a recipe.”
“A what?”
“Recipe.
“You mean for those burritos last night?”
Barney chuckled, “No, I mean, for playing again.” The horse thumbed back towards Zaul’s room.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, you know why chefs use recipes, right?”
The chameleon turned back towards the horse, humored by the question. A slight, intrigued smile on his face. “To make the same dish again?” Zaul guessed.
“Hit the nail on the head. Just got to figure out what you made work yesterday and do it again. Make a recipe for playing the guitar.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that. Take it from a chef, experimentation is only half the fun. The other half is refinement and that requires you to review your recipe. So what did you do yesterday?”
“Umm… Well I got my guitar out of the closet, for one.”
“Why?”
“I heard a song on my phone, wanted to recreate the technique of the guitarist.”
“And did you?”
Zaul shrugged, “I mean not really, it just kinda spiraled into doing my own thing.”
“And you were just on it from there then?”
“I guess. Not a lot to go on.”
“Maybe not, but we’ve identified one thing. The flavor.”
Zaul cocked his head with a smirk. “More chef speak?” Barney nodded.
“You see, when making a new dish it's almost always because you tasted something, smelled something, and thought ‘Yeah, I could make something like this.’ Doesn’t mean you always follow through, but it’s the… the uhh… what’s the word?” He tapped his head, obviously not completely over his impairment. “Ahh, it’ll come to me later. But! You, I guess, heard your ‘flavor’ and that got you going. And you accomplished the second thing. Gathering ingredients.”
“Which are….?”
“Your guitar. The things you need to make a dish… or play in this case. Can’t cook without ingredients. Can’t play without your instrument.” Barney held out his hands out to his sides to physically demonstrate the analogy. Zaul was leaning forward in his seat, nodding along. The horse felt himself getting quite invested in the conversation too. He was talking about one of his passions after all. It reminded him of all those moments years ago looking through cookbook after cookbook. Seeing something completely new that he had never tasted before. Something he hoped his mum would love.
“Alright, I’m following. What’s next?”
“Simply put. Doing it. Cooking. Strumming. Trying to create that flavor.”
“Hmm.” Zaul looked down, obviously this step sucked. Barney knew that, but you couldn’t create without doing.
“You good?”
Zaul shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense. It’s obvious, it just feels hard.”
“Tell me about it. But you can’t get stuck there. Can’t go to your concert and not be able to play, right?” Zaul shook his head. “But, honestly, again, you did it already. You were playing yesterday.”
“But that was a fluke.”
“And? Can’t deny it happened.”
“But who knows if it will happen again?”
“It will.”
Zaul scoffed. “I don’t think it’s that easy.”
“Okay, then it won’t.”
Zaul blinked and flinched back a little at non-sequitur. “Aren’t we trying to figure out a recipe to get to play again?”
“Do you want to play again?” Barney asked poignantly.
“I mean, yeah.” Zaul answered.
“Then you have to play.” They locked eyes for a bit. Zaul’s face in a bit of a doubt. Barney just shrugged. Silence fell between them. Zaul leaned back into his chair. Barney looked back out the window.
He thought about his own situation. This was also the point he was struggling with. Cooking has always been something that he was proud of, but lately the end product has felt lackluster. It has really tanked his motivation. His philosophy was always that cooking needed to taste good. Anything else was pointless to eat. And that’s why he had been so angry seeing those frozen semblances of food in his freezer that Zaul bought.
They were an affront to cooking, his cooking. He had been challenged to a culinary duel. That was more motivation he’s felt towards cooking in weeks.
‘I wonder why.’ He thought. Was it simply cause of his pride and skills? That didn’t feel quite right. He may be young, but he has made his way in one of the up-and-coming kitchens in town. La Asada. A lot of pride came from that, but Barney wasn’t one to gloat. That wasn’t him. Seems like he needed to take his own advice, come up with a recipe for, well, cooking.
The world beyond the apartment the sun was cresting over the adjoining buildings. The gray streets and sidewalks took on a warmer glow and the last of the fog burned away in the light of day. Soon the trees would sprout their leaves again and the flowers their neighbor attended to would bloom. He loved springtime. His mum always loved spring.
‘I should go see her today.’ He decided then and there.
“I want to play again.” A voice called him back from his thoughts. Zaul looked sure, he held the cup in both hands, his scales were streaked with spots of green. A healthier tone coated the rest of his visible scales. His tail was across his lap.
He was still, stiller than Barney had ever seen. Ever thought Zaul could be. Solid black pupils turned his way and the two looked upon each other. Two artists in slumps, a bond of empathy stretched between them. The force of conviction tempered will. Barney nodded. “I know you will.”
-----
“Alright, I’m heading out.”
“Later.”
Barney closed the thick door behind him as he stepped into crisp morning air. His leather coat gripped tightly about his shoulders and form. Hot steam followed each exhale. The horse found himself in a happy mood. His headache was gone, he rehydrated with water, he made a lovely breakfast for himself and Zaul and now he’s on his way to enjoy his day off. And to see his mother.
Also consciously ignoring thinking about his wardrobe debacle earlier. Nothing good would come from dwelling on that and Zaul didn’t seem too phased by the whole affair which was good. The worst thing would be to make things awkward with them living together.
The horse only hoped that maybe they could continue having conversations like they had that morning. Seeing Zaul excited about something was a new pleasure. A whole lot better than his mopey self that seemed scared that he was taking up space in the flat. Which was the entire point.
Barney had, till recently, been sharing his flat with his mother. But now that she was in hospice, well, there was a vacancy in his home. A crippling silence, a soulless location. He’d hoped that bringing someone into live with him might aid in bringing life back to the space. And so far Zaul has worked out.
But something about this morning, and even yesterday when Barney caught him jamming away in his room, it belied more to Zaul than he had been sharing thus far. And following their conversation, it seemed a lot more personal than Barney had thought previously.
‘I wonder if he thinks about making music like I do about cooking.’ Barney questioned while waiting in line for the tube. Barney looked at his fingers, half a dozen minute and tiny scars dotted across his fingers. Badges of honor from the time spent honing his skills and reminders of the dangers of sharp utensils. He didn’t remember where he got them all, but there was one he’d never forget.
It was when he first started cooking, back in secondary school. His mum had been sick and unable to make dinner for the two of them. Barney, full of all the confidence of an inexperienced hobbyist, stepped up. The results were… lackluster. The kitchen was filthy, the vegetables were unevenly cut, the rice was well overcooked and the potatoes were still raw. And he had a huge gash across the knuckle of his left index finger.
He had been so embarrassed when he brought it in to serve his mum. He apologized profusely, said he’d pay back the ingredients, and that he’d never try and cook again. His mum took one bite. Chewed thoughtfully, and then another. And a third. By the fourth she was humming contentedly and murmuring about how delicious it was. Barney knew she had to be lying, there was no way the burnt dish he put in front of her was worth spit. But she ate it all.
“Scrumptious!!”
His voice was bitter and stewed in failure. “Stop lying.”
“I’m not! I have never lied once in my life. I ain’t going to start now, Bear.”
“It’s burnt, raw, and cold all at the same time! How can you say it’s delicious?” Barney had demanded of her. She flashed him a smile, one that shone like the sun. He would never forget what she said.
“The tastiest food, Bear, is food you didn’t make yourself.” It was months before he’d try cooking again, but in that time he watched, he learned, he saw how she handled bowls and knives and pans and pots. And one day, he tried again. And the week after he tried again. And he kept on trying and trying. And somewhere on the way he became great at it.
And his mum never failed to call his dishes delicious. All with that smile.
“Flavor.” He said aloud to no one as he stepped aboard the car.
-----
He had stopped by a florist stall after getting off on his stop. A couple of flowers were sure to brighten up his mum’s room and mood. April Lonna was a force to be reckoned with, even as she was laid up in a hospice bed, a little would go a long way to lifting her spirits.
Barney hated her room, all eggshell white and devoid of color. The scent of disinfectant and sterilized air tickled his nose in the wrong ways. He held the bouquet underneath his nostrils to hide the worst of it as he strode down the hall. Her eyes turned his way as he opened the door, the pools were lucid and proved the will of someone that lived a hard long life and deserve so much better than a sixteen square meter room that didn’t even get good light through the north facing windows. Not that she ever complained. April was stronger than that.
“Hi, Mum.”
“Bear….!” She lit up as he stepped in the room.
“I brought you some flowers.” Obviously, holding out the floral air fresheners her way.
“Ah… Bear, these are gorgeous.” Her laughter lines and crow’s feet creased deeper as she pulled the delicate daffodils and daisies beneath her snout. She had to remove her oxygen concentrator lines to pull in a long drag. He stepped around her bed and pulled off his coat while she enjoyed the present. The staff had tossed the last bouquet he bought but conveniently left the vase for use. He poured in a couple pints of water in it from the nearby sink as well as a pack of flower food powder he snagged as well from the vendor. He held off on asking for them back, this was the closest that April would get to touching the natural world again.
He shook his head. ‘Let’s not think about that.’
“Oh, Bear. You always show up just when I get bored. How do you do that? You got magic powers that you’ve never told me about?” He looked at her out of the side of her eyes, mischief described her well. And even the graying of her hair seemed to be the only indication of her advancing age. Barney humored her with a chuckle and shake of his head.
“If I had magic powers, then I’d have used them for nefarious purposes by now.”
“Oh? A villain, are you?”
“Course, I’m the worst kind of villain.”
“And what is your crime of choice?”
“Not coming to see you more.”
“Oh.” She grimaced and waved the flowers dismissively at him. “You don’t need to baby me, they don’t have me in nappies yet.”
“Oh yeah? Why not? Sounds like a wonderful perk to me.”
“You watch yourself, Bear. I am still your mother. I’ll tan your hide redder than a rooster’s comb if you keep acting like a smartass.” He decided to drop it. She was probably serious. The flowers were quickly placed in the vase, positioned beneath the window. He could only hope they got enough light to last a while.
The beeping and whirring of electrical equipment he could only guess the names of were a constant in this room, the little space was cramped and claustrophobic. Various vital signs spiked and peaked along the EKG machine. Barney found it odd how a life could be reduced to just numbers. It was honestly depressing. Being here was depressing.
‘But I’m here. Aren’t I?’ He reasoned internally.
“Oh, shut up.” April called cantankerously. The younger horse cast his eyes downwards, sheepishly smiling at his shoes. He’d been caught worrying again and if there was one thing April hated more than anything, it was people fussing over her. “I ain’t dead yet. Don’t go putting me in the grave.”
“I would never do that, Mum. You’ll outlive both of us anyway.” He tried to keep his speech humorful, but it was hard. Could never articulate everything he wanted to say to her. And often he just confiscated the emotions with humor. But even the presentation was wearisome. It was all just a lie, lies meant to make him feel better but only made him feel worse.
“Mmhmm, you’re darn right.”
‘Just as spirited as ever…’
The conversation lapsed and only sounds of beeping monitors filled the room. And it was Barney’s turn to feel anxious. Each beep broke along the shoreline of his thoughts. The numbers and rhythm was stable and consciously he knew he didn’t need to worry. Half a dozen medical professionals were half a minute away should anything happen, but still. When has fear ever been rational? He fidgetted his foot across the linoleum tiles, adding to the sounds of the room. Trying to push out the other noises. It made him think about his flatmate.
‘Zaul, forgive me for not understanding.’
“...Bear…” She called across the space between them. Barney turned her way, she smiled. Just smiled. He could pretend for a moment, pretend this wasn’t a hospital room. That she wasn’t in a twin bed that was uncomfortable, with plain ordinary pillows. He could pretend that this was her home, their home. The two of them still. He could pretend, but she wouldn’t let him. April Lonna never ran from harsh truths. He wanted to be strong too, just like her.
“Hmm?” He answered, hiding down his growing concerns.
“How have you been, son?”
‘Always looking out for me.’
He stretched out his arms as he answered. His hard, plastic chair creaked with his movements. “Well, I’ve been, uh, well. Just taking it day by day.”
“Heh, liar.” He could only stare back at her.
“How could you possibly know I was lying?” He demanded to know.
“You just admitted it, for one. And cause I’m your mother, that’s why. We mothers always know.”
“Oh, come on. I’m not twelve anymore. Can you answer me like an adult?”
“Don’t matter what your age is, you’ll always be my baby and you’ll always be my son. Now tell me, how are you?” She turned on her side so that she could stare straight at him. Barney shook his head.
‘You’d think I’d learn by now.’
“I’m…” He paused to compose himself and his answer, “I’ve been better. Work has been… frustrating. It’s been hard without you. I, I just..” He started shaking. “I just can’t focus. I’m tense. I, I can’t stop thinking about you and-” The horse halted, this wasn’t what he came to talk about. She listened to all of it though, she didn’t even flinch. ‘Man up.’ He commanded himself.
“I’m lonely without you. Umm, the place is empty without you around.” All she did was nod, the cheap pillow fabric hissing under her head.
“It sucks but… But my mum didn’t raise a quitter.” He set his face, bared his best confident smile, whatever he could do to convince his hero that he was fine.
She hummed and nodded once. Beeping continued to puncture the silence. He felt better, stronger even. Even just pretending to be like her was empowering.
“Lonely, mmhmm. Sounds like you need to find a cute girl and settle down.” Barney groaned, and with it went all tension in the room.
“Oh, Mum. You know you’re the only woman for me.” Barney wiggled his eyes. He hoped the display dripped with sarcasm as he intended.
“Find a cute boy then.” She quickly countered.
“Yeah, sure. I’ll get right on it. Just shacked up with some cute chameleon and-” His eye went wide, he looked away from her bed, towards the drab walls and fluorescent lights. ‘Oh crap.’
“Bear…”
“No.” He said.
“Bear.”
“Nope. Not getting into it.”
“Barney Arcturus Lonna.” Full names must be some eldritch spell with the way it paralyzed Barney. He scrunched his face. It was pointless to resist. Eyes drilled into him from across the room. He breathed in as much courage as he could, feeling a little chill crawl up his pants and spine.
April was his hero, of that there was no doubt, but before that she was his mum. His mum that just learned he had a cute chameleon living with him. Now, Barney hadn’t been hiding that information, per se, but there was no doubt she wouldn’t take it that way.
‘Fuck me.’
He turned towards her. “Yes.” He kept it short, anything to keep from sharing anything more.
“Cute. Chameleon?”
“...What of it?”
“Well!!! Tell me about him!”
“Look, he’s- there’s nothing to say. He’s just a tenant. I don’t even know why I said cute. Can we let it go?”
“Is that really all?” Her eyes wide with suspicion and amusement.
“...Yes. That’s all.” She just shook her head.
“My boy, my flesh and blood still thinks he can lie to me? I swear he’s gonna get what’s coming to him if he doesn’t shape up.” Barney tsked, feeling beyond frustrated with the whole endeavor.
“What does it matter, Mum? What does any of it matter? Cute girls? Cute guys? Why do you care about stuff like that? We should be talking about you! I’m here for you, you know? None of that stuff matters. Okay?! So let’s just drop it, please!” Aggravation ate at him, it had been eating at him, ever since he walked in the room.
‘No, a lot longer than that.’ He admitted to himself. ‘Ever since I put you up here.’ Tired hands rubbed his tired eyes. His headache was back, but it wasn’t alcohol this time.
More beeping, more silence, more precious time wasted.
“Come here, Bear.”
“Mum…”
“Come here, my son…”
He still hesitated, he was beyond embarrassed, beyond irritated, beyond frustrated. Just plain old angry.
“Barney, baby, please…”
He stood. His shoes scuffed the floor. His legs barely lifted. It felt like kilometers to her bedside. The trek marked out in steps along boring floors, polished and clean, glistening with reflections, spotless. So unlike the floors of their home, speckled and marred with scratches, worn down from use, saturated with soul and life.
April sat patiently for him to approach, hand held out to guide his ship to home, to clasp around his hand.
‘How can she be so frail yet grip so strongly?’ He wondered
The mattress caved as he sat upon it holding her.
“Bear, I want you to listen and listen good. Can you do that for me?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak right now. “Twenty-eight years ago I gave birth to a beautiful, handsome, wonderful little boy.” Barney bowed his head, her grip only got tighter. “You were smaller than me then, just a tiny little foal all covered in muck and mucus.”
“Mum..”
“Hush!” She commanded, he obeyed. “And I made a decision right then and there, that I would always love this little boy, I would watch him grow. I would see him become a wonderful person and tackle the world. He would stand up to and against adversity. He would be anything he wanted and go anywhere he wanted to.” He felt her other hand wave across the world. “And I knew, Lord as my witness, I knew he would go out into the world one day and come home a man. And I knew, I prepared, I said to myself ‘When that day comes, April, you’re still going to love him. Cause he will always be your baby boy.’”
The flowers glowed in the coming daylight, her voice raspy with emotion, her touch strong and kind. All the things he wanted to focus on.
But all he felt he heard was beeping.
“It does matter, Barney, it has always mattered. You have always, always! Always mattered to me.” Each repetition of the word always was accepted by a shake to their hands, their connection. She paused, taking in a deep breath, he followed suit. “And what matters to me is that you’re happy when I’m gone.”
“Mum, I-”
“Shhh shhh shh. It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m not long for this world. And it’s okay. I lived a good life, a long life. A happy life, Bear. I’m so happy I got to know you, to watch you. I am so beyond words to describe it. And ever since the first moment I held you- No, even before that. I knew, Bear, I did. I knew that all I ever wanted was for you to be happy too.”
‘Stop, please…’ He begged silently.
“I can see you’re not. I can see my little ray of sunshine has turned dim. And I know you, I know you come here thinking it's to cheer me up. You think I’m just wasting away in this bed without you here. You think that coming here will make me happy. But I can tell coming here is hard on you. I can see it plain as the nose on your face. And that’s what hurts me. More than their needles, their exams, this cancer, whatever. What hurts me most is how much I hate seeing my little baby unhappy.”
She was definitely crying now, he could tell. Not that he could see with tears in his own eyes, but he knew. Knew in the way a son knows his mother.
“So…” She paused a little before continuing, “So you’re lonely. I understand, I know. Please, just know that I want nothing more than for you to find someone. Anyone. Someone that will make you happy, truly happy. Someone else to love. I want you to love so fiercely that you burn like the sun and stars. I want you to love so openly it becomes a sail that catches wind. I want you to love so deeply you find veins of gold and diamond. And I want you to leave here and not come back until you find that someone.”
The request tore his eyes open, even as the streams of wet rained down. He twisted to face her, hurt in his heart and chest. He squeezed her hand. “What are you on about? Are you taking the piss? I’m not about to abandon you here while I go off looking for some- some- some…” He was so angry he couldn’t even form words anymore. Even coming here was hard enough and now this! It wasn’t a matter of whether she was serious or not. It was a matter of how she would enforce such an ultimatum.
“Bear…”
“Don’t you ‘Bear’ me, Mum! You can’t tell me what to do anymore! You said it yourself, I’m a man! I can decide what I want when I want!”
“You may be a man, but you will always be my baby.” Her smile burned right through him. As strong as ever. “And you’re right, I can’t force you. I can’t even get out of bed anymore. But look there.” She turned towards the window and he followed his gaze. He saw the flowers upon the bed stand. Clean yellows and delicate whites. They drew his attention first. Yet, he looked further off into the distance. He saw thousands of rooftops and windows, all lit with the sun’s rays, bouncing around to end up here. In this room, at this moment, in this place, for them both to see. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The world outside this room?”
The younger horse could only sigh, there was no arguing, there was no debate. Again and again he was amazed by his hero. How could she spend so long in a tiny room and still manage to see more beauty in the world than he had? How could he compare with that will? How could he deny her wish?
“It’s okay, Bear. It’ll be okay.” He could only silently nod.
-----
He had left pretty quickly after that, after giving her a hug and promising to see her soon. She only nodded and said that she looks forward to meeting however he brings. He gave no reply to that. The commute home was full of more introspection for the horse. Ghosts of other people passed by him unobserved. A crowd of faceless shadows hemmed him in on the train.
‘Love fiercely? What a joke.’ He thought.
‘Love openly? Who cares.’ He complained.
‘Love deep? What the hell for.’ He questioned.
And most of all, he wondered. ‘How am I supposed to do that, Mum?’
The door handle stuck as he turned it, just one of those quirks of the old place. He was too far down the rabbit hole to remember the other three times he said he’d replace it. He was finally home, he was finally alone.
Almost. Soft humming came from the sitting room. Soft, light, delicate. He felt pulled towards that sonorous melody. It called to the echoes of his mind, the canyons he had eroded into. Zaul the Chameleon, he stood facing the world at the porch doors, headphones on, guitar in his hands. His body and tail swung to some beat that only he heard. Scales aglow, a lot more shimmery than they were when Barney left this morning.
There was something calming about the image, the scene of a man in his element. There was a freedom in his movements, almost an afterthought, like his soul had expanded greater than his body. Barney was envious of the world that his flatmate found himself him, and he wondered what it would take to join him there. There where none of this heaviness weighed him down.
Barney closed the door and walked into the kitchen where he again found the breakfast dishes done and drying like he had last night. He took a second to gaze over at Zaul who continued to be off in his own world. The image made him smile and shake his head a little bit. It eased the loneliness. It beat back the dark thoughts.
Barney felt his shoulders relax, just a bit. ‘I still have no idea what I’m doing, but you watch me, Mum. I’m going to figure it out, just like you did.’
“Hey!” He called out, again watching Zaul get rocketed from some other dimension back to their place. He scrambled to turn around, eyes blinking in rapid succession.
“Oh, uh. I, uh, didn’t hear you come in.”
The response made the horse chuckle. “Oh yeah? Might have something to do with the headphones you’re wearing.”
“Yeah… Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. Glad to see you playing again.” Barney clapped once before moving right along. “Right, I’m famished. Was thinking of making some lunch. Do you want to join me?”
The flash of yellow was impossible to ignore, neither was the smile. It lit up his face. And it felt wonderful. It was the exact flavor he was going for. Now it was time to gather some ingredients. He had someone to feed.
