by N. R. Walker
Hennessy snorted. “Talons, huh?”
I chuckled. “Yes, the finger-knives of the velociraptor are its weapon of choice.”
Merry gave me a shove. “Come on, or she’ll come looking for us. Can you walk and talk at the same time? Are you good with the whole air thing now?”
I nodded. “Yes, air in, air out. Got it, thanks.”
“I’m sure she’s not that bad,” Hennessy said.
“Well, I can tell you this. ‘Hell is empty, all the devils are here’,” I replied.
He barked out a laugh. “So I can’t quote Lewis but you can quote Shakespeare?”
My smile became a grin. “I don’t make the rules.” Then I sighed. “You knew who said that?”
“I can’t say for certain that he said it, but he most certainly wrote it.”
I did that swoon thing again and quite possibly hugged my phone. “Touché.”
“Hey, I’ll let you go,” Hennessy said, sounding happy. “Be wary of the velociraptors. I hear their talons are fierce.”
“Not as bad as their bite, I can tell you that much. Hennessy, I’m, um, I’m…” I put my free hand over my eyes, which was stupid because he couldn’t see me, but it was hard for me to say out loud. “I’m glad you called.”
“So am I.” After a moment, he added, “So, the bus, tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow.”
I clicked off the call and Merry hooked her arm around mine and, both of us smiling like loons, went off to find the velociraptor with the pretty nails.
Merry held both my hands and looked me sternly in the eye. “What are the rules, Jordan?”
I gave a hard nod. “No freaking out. No calling anyone a motherfucker. And I have to call you as soon as practicably possible and let you know what his question was.”
“Good.” She glanced up the road. “Okay, here comes the bus. You got this Jordan. And just remember, he likes the real you. Not some pretence of who you think he likes. You, in all your motherfucking awkward glory.”
“Right. Me, in all my awkward motherfucking glory. Got it.”
The bus door opened and there weren’t nearly as many people on the bus as normal. There were a few empty seats dotted up and down the bus, but there he was, grinning at me like for some strange reason the sight of me made him happy. He slid his bag into his lap and I fell into the seat beside him.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.”
“Love the yellow.” He blushed a little.
“Oh, thanks. It’s like wearing a little bit of sunshine during shitty Sydney winter weather.”
“So do you have twenty different pairs of shoes for whatever colour you’re feeling?”
“Basically. Is that your daily question?”
He grinned. “Well, it wasn’t what I had planned, but it can be.”
“I’m not opposed to two questions.”
“How did your shopping go with the velociraptor yesterday?”
“It was fine. If you throw coffee and cake at it, it simmers down. She’s just super judgey and condescending, and whatever Merry does is never good enough, and then, of course, that includes her friendship with me. And basically everything about me, really.”
“Is she that horrible?”
“She’s all pomp and no ceremony, if you get my drift. Thinks she’s above everyone else. No one takes it personally with her though. I mean, she was even critical of Princess Diana, which is probably why she hates me. Because I called her on that shit. No one says a bad word about Princess Diana and remains unscathed.”
Hennessy smiled. “Absolutely. Now, Camilla on the other hand.”
I gasped and put my hand to my heart. “Oh my God, you get me.”
He laughed. “And you can pick Charles apart if you want, but you must leave William and Harry out of it.”
I sighed happily. “I feel validated.”
He chuckled and gave me a nudge. “So, do you want to know your real question? It’s my stop soon.” He peered up the front of the bus.
“I do, yes. Ask away.” Then I put my hand on his arm. “Wait!” I relaxed my shoulders a little and let out a breath. “Okay, now I’m ready.”
He smiled at me. “If you could live with one family on TV, which would it be?”
I stared at him, then blinked twice. “What kind of motherfucking question is that?”
He burst out laughing. “Come on, hurry up. This is my stop.”
We rounded the corner and the bus was slowing down to pull in at the kerb. “Um, well, it’s a no brainer, really. There is only one family where I would fit in, where I could be myself and be truly appreciated.”
“And that is?”
“The Golden Girls.”
His grin widened, pressing a dimple into his cheek I hadn’t noticed before. It was hidden in his scruff. “That’s actually a perfect answer.”
I sighed with relief. “Oh my God, I survived the first one.”
He picked his bag up from his lap and stood up, squeezing past me to stand in the aisle, just as the bus came to a stop. “Did you have a question for me?”
“Um, shit! Uh, oh God. Yes, of course!” So what did my brain do? It leapt merrily back into familiar territory, with my stupid mouth written all over it. “‘If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?’”
Hennessy did a double take, opened his mouth, but quickly shut it again.
I cringed. “I panicked.”
He laughed and hopped off the bus, still smiling as we pulled away and he put his headphones back on.
“I’m such an idiot,” I said to myself. The lady sitting across the aisle was looking at me like she very much agreed with me. “I panicked,” I told her.
She smirked and nodded, which was great. Even the general public thought I was an idiot. I took out my phone and hit Merry’s number.
“Jordan,” she answered. “Tell me, did he ask you a life-altering question?”
“Probably not life-altering, but it was cute and gave him an insight to who I saw myself identifying with, without really asking. So yes, clever and insightful.”
“And? What was it?”
“That I’m the fifth fucking Golden Girl, which, mind you, was a brilliant answer. But then I had to go ruin it by asking him one back. I had one question to get right, to show him I can be just as smart and funny and as insightful as him.”
“Oh dear.”
I nodded. “I not only asked him a rhetorical question, but I quoted ‘Ode to the West Wind.’”
“You quoted Shelley?”
“I panicked!”
“Jesus, Jordan.”
“I. Panicked.”
She laughed. “Well, I guess he now knows what he’s getting himself into.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She ignored me. “You need to go home tonight and write a list of the questions you want to ask him each day. Memorise them, Jordan. So you’re not caught off guard again.”
I sighed. “Good idea. That’s even if he decides to keep talking to me.” Then I had a great idea. “Or you could think of some questions for me!”
“Or not,” she replied. “He’s playing this game to get to know you, Jordan. Not me.”
“Oh my God, you suck. How are we even friends?”
She laughed. “See you tomorrow morning.” And the line went dead in my ear.
I trudged off the bus and into the blustery cold, thankful to get inside the entry hall of our apartment block and out of the wind. I marched up the two flights of stairs, unlocked my door, and dumped my satchel on the couch. Angus was in the kitchen, and something was smelling pretty good.
“Oh hey,” he said, giving me a bright, lazy smile. “How was your bus dude?”
My bus dude. I smiled despite my mood. I’d told Angus about these stupid questions that Hennessy was going to ask me. “He was fine. I, on the other hand, was an idiot.”
He frowned at me. “Did he ask a maths question?”
I snorted. “No, his qu
estion was fine. I had to ask him one question in return and completely muffed it.”
Angus stared at me. “Did you ask him a maths question?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t explaining rhetorical questions or seventeenth-century English poetry to him. “Nah. No maths. Whatcha cooking? Smells great.”
He turned back to the stove and stirred a huge pot. “Oh. It’s a stew thing. My mum used to make it and just throw a bunch of stuff in it, like minced meat, veggies, and pasta. I rang her to make sure I got it right. It’s nearly done. Wanna grab two bowls?”
“Absolutely.” I felt better already. Something about Angus was comforting; he was like a brother. And considering my family and I weren’t close, it made me appreciate Angus all the more. Just easy going, well-meaning, and a joy to be around.
We sat in front of the TV, ate his delicious stew thing, and watched Family Feud. Angus nodded toward the television. “You should take notes. Ask him these questions.”
“Name something you’d find in a doctor’s waiting room?” I echoed the question of the game show. “Not sure it’s what I’m going for.”
He nodded and chewed his next mouthful thoughtfully before a slow grin spread across his face. “I know what you can ask him,” he said.
And I’ll be damned, but he had some great suggestions.
I waited for the bus with my stomach in knots. Merry shoved me onto it with a wish of good luck, and as soon as I saw Hennessy smiling at me, it all kind of fell away. He had a seat saved for me and I clutched my messenger bag and slid in beside him. “Hey,” he said, all smooth and charming.
“Hey.” I swallowed hard. “Can I just start by saying I’m sorry about yesterday’s question? I kind of panicked and made a mess of it. Oh, and thank you for the seat. I should have said that first, but I see you and my brain circuitry fries and I struggle with a filter on a good day.”
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“A good day?”
I nodded and tried not to smile but failed. “Uh yeah, it’s like a hundred per cent better now. Work was busy as hell today and we had a special community meeting for people who are learning or new to English, so I spent most of the day with them, helping and making sure they had all they needed.”
“You do that? At the library, I mean?”
“Oh sure. We run all kinds of outreach programs, including secondary languages and introductions and that kind of thing. I get a real kick out of it. I like helping people, and I can’t get myself into too much trouble. Although there was that time I tripped over someone’s chair and let out a motherfucker to end all motherfuckers and then spent the rest of the day trying to convince the whole class that it wasn’t appropriate when they all took it in turns to break it down into more manageable syllables in front of my boss.”
Hennessy laughed.
“I’m glad you think it was funny,” I said flatly. “My boss didn’t.”
He was still grinning. “So today’s question,” he said. “Are you ready?”
I nodded. “No, but yes.”
“It’s an easy one today,” he said. “Unlimited sushi for life or unlimited tacos?”
I gasped. “That is not easy. That is… well, that just might be an unanswerable question.”
He nodded toward the front of the bus. “My stop is coming up.”
“Argh! Oh, the pressure. Okay, I would say… sushi tacos.”
“Are sushi tacos a thing?”
“They are now.” I couldn’t help but grin. “But in all seriousness, I’d have to say tacos probably, because there are all different kinds, like beef, chicken, fish, even veggie tacos. Whereas sushi tends to be more limited. So if it was for life, I think I’d want the variety.”
He made a thoughtful face. “I’m not sure how to dissect that.”
“Dissect what?” Oh God. “What are you reading into that? Because the question wasn’t really about commitment and wanting the same thing over and over for the rest of ever, death till you part. It was about tacos. Wasn’t it? Like tacos… soft shell, hard shell, answering questions hell—”
He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it was about tacos.”
“Oh motherfucker. It totally wasn’t about tacos. But even if it was, having tacos forever is fine. There might be all different kinds of tacos, but the bottom line is, a taco is a freaking taco. And I would be committed to tacos because I have no issue with that kind of commitment. I’m a one taco at a time kind of guy. And I certainly don’t go looking at other tacos when I have one, if you know what I mean. And let’s be real, because of the whole asexual thing, it’s usually the taco I’m interested in that goes looking for other tacos.”
He chuckled and gave me a nudge with his shoulder. “Those kinds of tacos are all jerks.”
The bus went around the corner at the intersection and I totally didn’t use that as an excuse to lean in a little. “They are jerks.”
He met my eyes and bit his lip. “So, um… do you have a question for me?”
“I do. And if this one sucks, I’m not to blame. It’s totally Angus’ fault.” I took a breath as the bus pulled in to his stop. “Okay, if you were arrested without any explanation, what would your friends think you’d done?”
He chuckled and looked to the open bus door and the people getting off. “That’s a good question. Um. I’d like to think it was something amazing like breaking into an animal kill shelter and letting all the animals out.” He stood up and I turned my legs to the side so he could get past me. He turned and smiled at me. “But it’d probably be for breaching some cyber security law by releasing all financial sponsorship information of politicians, or maybe just the racist, bigoted politicians. Or maybe I’d transfer a whole lotta money from corrupted corporations’ accounts and drop it into Greenpeace’s account.”
I looked up at him. “So, maybe saving defenceless animals, but more than likely toppling governments, saving the world, that kind of thing.”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good. Because that’s not perfect or anything.”
He grinned and hopped off the bus, and I sat there for the rest of my bus ride smiling like I was already falling in love.
Which was utterly ridiculous.
So ridiculous.
Unreservedly absurd.
Goddammit.
Motherfucker.
The third day wasn’t much better. There was more pressure now. We’d started some kind of milestone, where the next question had to be better than the last, and the answers even more so. There were more people on the bus on Wednesday and some funky wet wool smell that I ignored when I saw Hennessy waiting for me with an empty seat beside him.
“Good afternoon,” he said, grinning as I walked up to take my seat.
“Top of the day to you, kind sir,” I replied, for no other reason than I’m an idiot.
“How was work today?”
“Great. We had the early learning kids in today. That’s always fun, if not rather loud, but I like reading to them. I make it exciting and interactive so they all think books and reading time is amazing, so I’m like a superhero to them. And being a superhero to a bunch of three-year-olds is a civic responsibility I take very seriously.” God, what was up with the nonsensical babbling when I was near him? “Sorry. Nervous blathering. It’s a chronic illness.”
He was still grinning. “I like that blue on you,” he said quietly. “It matches your eyes. Some days they’re more blue than grey.”
I blushed so hard I almost had a stroke.
“And just so you know,” he added, “the fact you read to little kids actually does make you a superhero.”
“I tried to tell them I needed a cape,” I said. “My boss, that is. The kids already know I need one. My boss isn’t convinced.”
“If you were a superhero, what would your name be?”
“Is that my question for the day?” I asked.
“It could be.”
“Well, my superhero name would be somet
hing completely awesome. Like Super Book Man but in Latin.”
“Super is Latin,” he replied casually. “Etymologically, the Latin word for super is super.”
I gasped loud enough the woman in front of us turned around, but I ignored her. “You can’t say that kind of stuff to me. Word porn in public could get embarrassing.”
“Word porn?”
“The only kind I’m into,” I said, then turned a dozen shades of red. “I mean, not physically into it. I’m not really into anything like that. You know why.” I cleared my throat. “I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, so never mind.” God, I almost considered getting up and finding another seat, and I probably would have if I could’ve got my legs to work.
But then he took my hand and gave it a squeeze, not letting it go. “I’m glad you’re not,” he said quietly. “Into anything like that. Word porn is fine, I can appreciate that.”
I was stuck staring at his perfect face, with his perfect hand still holding mine. I couldn’t form words.
“Do you have a question for me?” he asked, almost smiling.
It took a second for his words to compute in my brain, and I realised we were almost at his stop. “Uh, sure. It’s another one of Angus’ questions. And it is in itself somewhat questionable, but then again, so is he. But he genuinely wants to know the answer to this.”
“Who’s Angus?”
“My flatmate and one of my best mates.”
Hennessy smiled. “And his question…”
“Well, at first he wanted to know why everyone hated Nickelback so much. I told him that wasn’t a valid question. He said it started with why and ended with a question mark and that made it a valid question, but the thing about Angus is, he… well, he’s just Angus. And his other question. God. He wants to know why cereal isn’t considered to be or called a soup.”
Hennessy stared at me for a full few seconds, then he laughed. “I really don’t know. Some actual soups are made from just one ingredient and some are served cold, so I don’t think there’s any reason it couldn’t be called a soup. Maybe there’s a gastronomical reason. Maybe soups have some qualifying factor that takes them from a drink to a meal.”