“Then you know he’s the leading expert on forms of skin cancer, Melanoma in particular,” Melono said.
“Ohh. That’s what Melanoma is; it’s a skin cancer!” Notmie grinned at the dawning of comprehension.
“Little known fact, though,” Melono added, “he used to be one of the most insufferable brats in existence. And he was obsessed with researching cancers even then.”
“So, did you ever let his teasing get to you?” Captain Alex asked, leaning forward in the back seat to hear more clearly.
“Well, a little bit.” Melono casually adjusted the AC vents closer toward herself. “I started asking people to call me Mel instead, but that wasn’t just because of Lewis Stangle’s teasing. I was eleven at the time, and I thought Mel was a much cooler name, more grown-up sounding. I tried to get my parents to call me Mel, but they refused, saying that they’d already given me a name and they gave it to me for a reason. I tried to convince them that Mel was cooler, but after a few months of them resisting it, I gave up and went back to being called Melono. No one else has ever really given me a hard time about it since then. Occasionally I’d get an ‘Oh no, Melono!’ or a ‘Melonhead,’ but I was a feisty little girl, so I usually silenced anyone who teased me in a manner that prevented anyone from daring to tease me again.”
“Poor guys,” Captain Alex said, imagining up what drastic measures must be employed to deter adolescents from teasing someone.
“No, not poor guys,” Melono said. “They were fine after a few weeks.”
“Just for making fun of your name? What, did you do, hospitalize them?”
“Only once, and it wasn’t really my fault. He fell off a balcony when he tried to run away from me.”
“You made a guy so scared he ran off a second-story balcony just to escape you?” asked The Captain.
“Fifth,” Melono replied.
“That’s awesome, Melono!” Notmie yelled in spite of his headache.
Captain Alex just scoffed. “You two are insane. And more than a little scary, I might add.”
Had The Captain not been sitting in the back seat with a safety barrier dividing him from the other two occupants, he might not have asked his next question. “Even though I’m probably risking incurring the wrath of Melono, I have to ask, what’s with your names? I mean, what the heck? Who names their kid Notmie or Melono? Do all you people have screwed up names with weird pronunciations?”
Notmie and Melono looked at each other like Captain Alex was speaking gibberish.
“How do you mean?” Notmie asked.
“How do I— How do I mean? I mean, you have names that are almost real names, but they’re changed in a way that makes them very hard to pronounce and not rhythmic in the least. Take the name Melono, for example. It’s almost Melody, but it’s not. There’s something about it that just sounds off. It’s like when a little kid colors a picture and the shapes are all right, but the person’s skin is blue and the dog is purple; you know something about it is way off, but it almost makes sense.” Captain Alex paused to try to think of a better way to describe his thoughts.
Notmie still didn’t understand what was so weird about his name.
“It’s a family name, Cap’n, that’s all.”
The corners of Captain Alex’s mouth twitched as they suppressed a smile. “A family name? You mean there’s more than one person named Notmie? What, was your grandfather named Notmie Reel Name?” The Captain chuckled at his little jest and relaxed back in his seat, watching as Notmie processed the cheap shot.
“No, stupid. It’s not a family name like that. Our family has a tradition of naming their children after both the mother and the father. You mix the name and voila!”
“What if they have more than one child?”
“Well,”—Notmie thought about it—“I guess they would make a different mix of the names. I’m not quite sure, because I’m an only child. Maybe Melono knows.”
Melono shook her head and shrugged.
“Okay then,” Notmie continued. “So what’re your parents’ names, Melono?”
“Well, my mother’s name is Meloh.”
“Right. So your father’s name was something like Bono?” Captain Alex asked, waving his hand in the air as he threw out the first name that made sense.
“No, No,” Melono said simply.
“Okay, then what was it?”
“No,” she repeated.
“You’re just not going to tell me?”
“I’m telling you!” she said.
“No, you’re not.
“Actually, that’s my father’s name, Cap’n,” Notmie said.
“Whatever, Notmie,” Melono said, wondering what he was trying to pull here, “you’re father’s name is Not, not No.”
Captain Alex listened quietly to the conversation, wide-eyed, attempting to make some sense of all the double and triple negatives.
“I know, his name is Not,” Notmie said.
Captain Alex decided he needed to be an active participant in this conversation for it to make any sense. “His name is not what?”
“Not Reel.”
“What! But that doesn’t make any sense! Of course his name is real!” Captain Alex said, finally losing his cool.
Notmie scrunched up his face. “Wait, why is that an ‘of course?’ Just because my name is Reel? I mean, I was named after him, but that doesn’t always mean I have the same middle name.”
“The same… middle name?” asked the Cap’n, confused into a stupor.
Melono intervened. “Stop right there, both of you. Alex, my father’s name was No, as in the word N-O. Notmie’s father’s name was Not Reel—stop Alex, don’t ask questions yet—his first name was Not, as in N-O-T and his middle name was Reel—how do you spell that, Notmie? E-A?
Notmie shook his head. “R-E-E-L.”
“Right, which is also Notmie’s middle name,” she finished.
Captain Alex closed his eyes and let it sink in. He opened his eyes, took a deep breath and repeated what he had processed. Notmie and Melono nodded as he finally figured out what was going on.
“So, my next question should be obvious: why on God’s green earth would your fathers be named Not and No? Don’t suppose those are family names as well?”
Notmie explained his family’s history of marrying some of the world’s ugliest inhabitants who had names like No, Not, and Killit.
Captain Alex listened intently to every word. There was a thought bubbling to the surface of his mind, a realization that actually meant something. As he listened, the thought emerged through a haze until words were put to it and he couldn’t contain himself any longer. He spurt it out, perhaps a little louder than needed. “So you guys dig ugly people!”
Melono tilted her head side to side, trying to find a way to explain it properly.
“Not so much that we dig them, but it just sort of happens. I can’t really explain it, but it’s just always been that way. Maybe it’s because they don’t worship us like everyone else. Honestly, that’s the only reason I can think of.”
“So, if you were to, say, meet a guy who for one reason or another didn’t worship you like everyone else… What I mean to say is, if this guy was, for some other reason, unaffected by your unearthly beauty the way other people are, you might dig him?”
“I guess so,” said Melono, shrugging, “as long as I liked his personality; as long as he wasn’t a total ass.”
“So that’s the trick,” Captain Alex said quietly, but not quietly enough.
“What’d you say?” asked Melono.
The Captain was forced to lie. “I said that I think I’m getting car sick.”
“Should I roll down a window?”
“No, I don’t think that’s necessary, I’ll be fine.”
The conversation was over just like that. Melono slowly fell into what she often referred to as “the driving zone”—the place where her subconscious navigated as her thoughts wandered from topic to topic. Notmie fiddled with h
is hand mirror, refracting the sun’s rays on different spots throughout the car until, by accident, the spot happened to be right into Melono’s eyes. The car swerved and she yelled, “You’re giving me Disco Ball Blindness,” putting an abrupt end to Notmie’s mirror fun.
Captain Alex undid his seat belt and lay down in the back seat, staring up at the fabric-covered ceiling.
As the car bumped along the worn road, Captain Alex closed his eyes and gave into the choppy rhythm of the car’s poor shocks as the ceiling blurred and melted into dreams.
Part 23
Lollipops and Pouty Fits
Captain Alex awoke abruptly as his body rolled off the back seat and thudded onto the floor of the car. He opened his eyes groggily and pulled himself back on the seat, sitting upright and looking out the window to orient himself.
They’d pulled into a town about twice the size of Lynchton, but with much less dust covering everything. Despite his prejudices against fast-food, Captain Alex was relieved to see a McDonald’s; it implied some degree of exposure to the larger outside world. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to change his name here to keep from getting tarred and feathered.
As he massaged his side, observing a small car dealership and an antique shop, he realized why they’d pulled over.
“Can I come in with you, Melono?” Notmie asked. “They usually have lollipops.” He was practically jumping out of his seat.
“Sure. You coming, Alex?”
Alex still had a bit of waking up to do before he could be entirely coherent, but he agreed with a “Sure— I— But— Okay, if you want.”
“All right then, grab your things,” she said.
“Why? Are we really going to need vintage wine in there?”
“Just do it, Alex. Trust me. Notmie, bring your mirror with you.”
Notmie obeyed without (much) protest, and Melono grabbed her notebook.
As they entered through the glass French doors, a thin woman in a suit called out to them.
“Hello, welcome to Bank of Texas. How may I help you today?”
It took the teller a moment to register who she was greeting, but once she did, she couldn’t take her eyes off of Notmie, not even for a second.
Melono approached the counter, obscuring Notmie from view and irritating the bank teller more than she’d experienced in the ten years since she’d left her husband. But after a good look at Melono, her rage subsided as she realized she liked looking at Melono almost as much as she did at Notmie.
Captain Alex and Notmie found seats on large comfy chairs in the lobby and made themselves at home.
“I love banks,” Notmie said, putting his feet up on the coffee table in front of him.
“Yeah, me too. Why is that? They’re just so clean and modern all the time and all the people who work in them are good looking.”
“I think you just answered your own question, Cap’n,” said Notmie, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.
Captain Alex set down his wine bottle on a glass side table next to him and took in a few deep breaths through his nose, enjoying the smell of non-dustiness.
Notmie opened his eyes when he heard Melono say, “No, that’s fine, thanks. This is all I need.”
He saw his cousin carrying a large burlap bag puffed up with money, yet, the question that he felt most inclined to ask had nothing to do with why she was carrying so much money or how she got it.
“Did you ask about the lollipops?”
Melono nodded then grimaced apologetically. “She said they ran out and haven’t had a chance to get more.”
Notmie’s eyes opened wide and he was just about to start what would have been an angry and long-lasting rant about the state of the world when there aren’t any lollipops at a bank, but before he could get started, Melono set down the cash bags, tucked Larry’s notebook under her arm, and used her free hand to reach into her pocket. Pulling out an assortment of colors, she asked, “Which flavor do you want?”
Notmie’s mouth stopped just short of the first syllable of his rant and changed into a large grin.
“I’m an orange kind of guy,” he said, grabbing the orange lollipop.
“What about you, Alex?” asked Melono.
Captain Alex paused and considered the question with the thought usually given to questions like, “What is the meaning of life?” before resolutely replying, “Grape. I’ll take grape.”
Melono handed Captain Alex the purple lollipop.
“All right, let’s get going.”
Notmie and Captain Alex watched as Melono headed, not for the glass doors through which they’d entered, but toward a hall branching off from the main lobby.
“Where are you going?” asked Notmie.
“Yeah, the car is this way.” Captain Alex pointed at it through the glass.
“We’re not going back to that car,” Melono said over her shoulder. “Kiss it goodbye.”
Notmie and The Captain had to jog to catch up with her.
“Then how are we getting to Paris?” asked Captain Alex.
Melono didn’t answer, so he asked something else that he felt needed to be addressed.
“What’s in the bag?”
“Money. I thought you would’ve guessed that, Alex, considering we’re in a bank and all.”
Despite feeling like an idiot, The Captain continued asking his questions. “What’s it for?”
“I thought you would have realized that, too.”
Ouch. Captain Alex kept getting burned, but he refused to let it get to him. “Lunch?”
“Partly.”
Notmie answered the question for Captain Alex. “It’s the other five-thousand dollars for Sinclair.”
Captain Alex stared at Notmie, torn between disbelief that it was Notmie who’d said it, and belief because the answer made sense. He remained silent and followed in Melono’s wake down the hall.
They passed by open doors on either side where busy men and women in business suits abandoned work to look over their computers at the passing strangers. Curious heads peeked out of doorways behind the trio, whispering back and forth in an attempt to figure out who these mysterious strangers were and why the two alarmingly attractive ones would hang out with such a plain fellow in a cape.
Notmie and Captain Alex stole occasional glances behind them, shooting questioning looks at the faces staring them down. The whispering continued if Captain Alex did this, but as soon as Notmie glanced over his shoulder, the whispering immediately ceased and the expressions of the people changed from intrigued to enchanted. This amused Notmie and he proceeded to look back and forth over and over again, orchestrating a fun whisper rhythm.
“You’re not as great as you think,” Captain Alex hissed bitterly at him.
“I think they disagree with you,” Notmie said, again looking behind him and silencing the whispers.
Captain Alex rolled his eyes.
When the hall teed, Melono took a left and they quickly found themselves underneath an exit sign and in front of a metal door. Melono pushed through it and they emerged behind the bank next to an old dumpster, staring at their new ride.
“You’re kidding me, right?” asked The Captain.
Melono laughed, but it was clear that this was no joke.
Notmie stared at the vehicle and decided they had extraordinary luck in the way they traveled. That was, until the driver-side door of the limo opened and a familiar face stepped out to welcome them.
“Owww are ’ooo?” the man asked.
Notmie buried his head in his hands and shook his head. It’s that damned limo driver again.
Melono smiled kindly at the young man.
“How are you today, Nathan?” she asked.
Though he was uncommonly nervous about being around two unearthly beautiful people again (one of whom had hijacked his limo only a few weeks earlier), Melono’s familiar smile calmed him enough to be able to reply.
“I’m all right. I was released from the hospital just a few day
s ago. When I heard about this job, I couldn’t pass it up.”
Notmie stared at Nathan in shock. “You acted like you only spoke French!” Notmie yelled.
Nathan’s eyes darted from Melono to Notmie as he couldn’t find the words to defend himself.
“Are you serious?” Melono asked. “We’ve already been over this. Nathan never spoke French. You only thought he spoke French. He can’t even do a proper French accent.”
“But I heard him speak it! I promise you! I heard him speak French! I’m not crazy!” squawked Notmie.
“I know you’re not crazy, Notmie. You’re just not that smart.”
“True dat!” added The Captain.
Notmie clenched the mirror tightly in his fist, a sense of betrayal tingling down his body.
Melono didn’t seem to notice. “Whatever, Notmie. Get in the limo.”
Notmie did, but made a point of doing so begrudgingly, and even after they were all in the back seat, Notmie ignored the other two. Melono and Captain Alex didn’t mind. At all.
Despite having already ridden in this exact limo for almost half a day, Captain Alex was surprised to find how spacious the back was. Since he’d driven it the entire time, he hadn’t gotten a chance to check out all the passenger perks. Two long backseats faced each other around the sides of the car, and on one wall was a mini bar equipped with wine glasses. There was a small built-in cooler, but upon further inspection, Captain Alex found it to have no drinks or ice in it whatsoever.
“Where’s all the booze?” asked The Captain, turning to Melono.
She shrugged.
Captain Alex looked thoughtfully at the wine bottle in his hand.
“Do you think now is the time to pop this thing open?” he asked.
Melono didn’t even have to think about it. “No way, but it wouldn’t hurt to put it in there”—she motioned to the empty cooler—“for later.”
Though Captain Alex was bummed to hear it, he figured she was right. He set the bottle in the cooler for later.
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