Chapter 2

We've been young and we've been free, hey baby...


Alfred gazed absentmindedly at the traffic downstairs. The government official's words went in his right ear and came out of his left ear immediately.

He didn't really mind letting others know he wasn't listening. This useless meeting had indeed been going on for too long. He wasn't the only one distracted; the other officials were also restraining the urges to yawn. Alfred really couldn't understand the issues and problems that were put forward repeatedly from the discussion. Couldn't they make up their minds already?

Oh, he knew that everyone knows how to do things the best way on many matters, but there was always a block stuck in between. Perhaps it was the financial groups or the distribution of benefits that was in the way. Making the right decision became difficult because of that. Regardless, this lengthy meeting should end already.

He simply turned his head to the windows and looked out openly and impolitely, ignoring the looks of the civil official sitting beside him. The speaker on the stage noticed his reaction.

"Mr. Jones, do you have any good opinion?"

Alfred replied half-heartedly, "Oh no, I'm just thinking that I should exercise my eyes so I can see further."

Some of the participants couldn't help but chuckled. The official on the stage felt awkward by this and cleared his throat.

"This is a very important issue. We need to discuss and consider it repeatedly until we make sure everything will work out."

"True." Alfred turned back. The face that seemed forever young said with a smile, "A savior always arrives late. I think it's because the spaceship he's riding on always gets intercepted and thrown into area fifty-one for dissection. Those scientists would always say with sincerity," Alfred clasped his hands together in exaggeration, "Dear God, I've thrown those that pretended to be you into hell!"

Everyone laughed at this.

The Secretary of the Homeland Security stood up to conclude the meeting, "I think everyone all agrees it's time to save our stomachs."

Alfred was the first to get up and leave the conference room.


He went to the restaurant and ordered a hamburger, fries and coke. All these were high-calorie foods he loved. He carried the tray and sat near the windows. His civil officer came along not soon after. He asked suggestively, "May I sit here?"

"Of course." Alfred took some fries and stuffed them into his mouth.

"What a tiring meeting it is." The civil officer said. Unlike Alfred, who only picked unhealthy food, he mostly took vegetables and meat with little oil and salt.

Alfred didn't reply. His eyes were still staring outside the window desperately.

"Has anything been troubling you recently?"

"Nothing." Alfred replied immediately, picking up his coke and sucking it down.

"... You have not been able to concentrate lately." The civil officer said, "I am worried about you."

"I'm fine. There's no problem with my body, my mind or whatsoever."

"This is good to hear."

Putting down his fork, the civil officer took a napkin to wipe off the sauce that dripped onto the table.

"It seems Mr. England rarely comes over recently."

"He's got stuff to do."

"Oh. What a shame."

Alfred took off the buns on the hamburger, revealing the yellow cheese and lettuces in the middle. He picked off those off too, leaving himself with the meat. He picked up the knife and the fork and started cutting it.

The civil officer watched him as he cut the meat up into pieces as if he was venting his anger out. His knife hit the plate with a "clang" again and again.

"If you have any concern, please feel free to tell me." He continued, "You are very important to us."

"Thanks."

Alfred forked the pieces of meat into his mouth and chewed.


He drove home, got out of the car and closed the door. Alfred took out an envelope from the garage and walked out. He suddenly discovered his neighbor's grass cutting machine was parked on his lawn. They must have forgotten to put it away. Perhaps the mischievous brat in his family did it. Alfred carried his jacket, planning to push the grass cutting machine next door with a single hand.

A weird sensation spread to his four limbs the moment he held the handle. Alfred stopped his movement at this. He stretched his shoulder, shook his head, held the handle again and pushed with all his might. But the machine moved at a slower rate than he expected. In fact, it wasn't moving all that strangely... but something felt off.

Alfred thought the exhaustion from today's stinking long meeting was to blame for this strange feeling. He took out a key, opened the door and turned the light on. The enormous house was clean and tidy. The wool carpet laid in the living room again, rid of all smell of alcohol. After that argument, meetings between Arthur and him in the public were the same as always. The meetings in private, however, were largely reduced-fine, there was none. Alfred took out a beer (and not coke) from the fridge and sat in front of the television.

The world continued spinning day after day; Alfred was calculating how long this cold war would last. It was like they had unlimited time to waste on this, and the both of them were never bored with the game that hurt other people and themselves. Just like how there were always crimes, car accidents, the deceases of people and the births of new lives in the news. He loosened his tie and gulped down the beer, trying to make himself relax by lying on the sofa. The colors on his LCD screen were changing constantly; these light were shining on his face as if a movie was playing.

He decided to throw away all the shampoo, body wash, face wash and the like that Arthur had left in the bathroom.

In any case, Arthur should get himself a new set "if" they made up, like there would be a new beginning every time. His lover wouldn't change, so he could only change himself.

Then he should simply take the time to replace the decoration as well. He had disliked the dark green curtains chosen by Arthur for a long time. After making up his mind, he stood up in full mobility and started taking it down after he found the toolbox in the storage room.

This cabinet should be replaced. The table in the kitchen had lots of scratches left by Arthur (What the heck was he doing in the kitchen? Aside from killing the lives of the food again?). That would be replaced too. He should also clean the bookshelf. Before that, he would have to carry those heavy, thick, and voluminous books down. He found a ladder, climbed up, and carried the books on the higher shelves down. He was going to take eight of the thick hard-covered books down at once, so it would only take him seven trips for all the books on this shelf. One book, two books, three books, four books...

That indescribable, weird sensation hit him again. He realized the weight of the four books were heavier than he imagined to be. He should stop if he didn't want to fall off the ladder. He clicked his tongue, climbed down the stairs and put the books down on the ground. After being busy all night, he already took down roughly all the books on the shelf.

He would go buy a new bookshelf tomorrow.


The sky was dark; there was no sun. A flock of birds whistled by. Alfred was standing in front of the stairs of the United States Capitol.

"Mr. Jones?"

His civil officer caught up with him and asked with concern.

"It's nothing." Alfred shook his head and smiled, "I just suddenly realized I don't remember how many times I've set foot in here."

"Then that number must be spectacular." The civil officer smiled too, "After the end of today's meeting, the topic for this week would be concluded too. I hope you can try not to fall asleep."

"That's not something I can control." Alfred shrugged, "Saying they'll do something for the people... but do you think they'll really listen to my opinions?"

"Of course they will."

"Oh, what an optimistic and honest American thought."

"Because we are your people."

"Hmm..." Alfred took some steps and continued climbing up, "Thanks."

Still, Alfred's mind was absent during the entire meeting. He didn't know why, but he felt everything was extremely pointless. The high-sounding excuse was like the declaration made by England at the time of his independence; the hypocritical people like the targets he aimed at with guns. Behind all this history, he still had to move forward. The performance was never-ending. Sometimes he would imagine what it would be like if he had disappeared. Would it be like the civil war that almost split him a hundred years ago (maybe like how it was with the North and South Italy), or like natural disasters?

He was a combination that could not be defined; his destiny was not in his hands. There was a higher existence above him.

"... What do you think, Mr. Jones?"

His name was called. Those officials finally recalled his existence.

"It's great."

He replied casually, having no idea what those people were talking about.

"All right, then this matter is settled."

The official that was embarrassed by his speech last time shot him a glance. Alfred smiled at him, and the other person turned away bitterly.


He got himself a cup of coffee at break. Having nothing to do, he closed his eyes and sat on the comfortable office chair. The hardworking civil officer was like his full-time nanny, following him around all day during work hours.

"Will you be attending the party this evening?"

"No. I'm going to buy some curtains and bookshelf today."

"Have you moved?"

"Just planning to redecorate the house."

"I suggest it is better to attend the party this evening." The civil officer took a cup of coffee and drank it in one gulp.

"Why?"

"Some important people will be attending the party. They have not seen you for a long time."

"Oh. What's this? A calling?"

The civil officer smiled wryly, "Something must have happened to you recently."

"There's nothing, aside from the fact I can't stand those damn curtains anymore."

"Did Mr. England choose it?"

"So you know." Alfred raised his eyebrows, "Did I mention that to you?"

"You did. You were also complaining back then." The civil officer stacked a pile of official documents on Alfred's table.

"It seems you have a lot of complaints whenever Mr. England is involved."

"Because he's a stubborn bastard."

"The reason why you are troubled recently is because of him?"

"..." The melancholy Alfred didn't reply.

"Regardless, I do wish for you to attend the party tonight. This is rather important." His civil officer emphasized his words.

Alfred laid on the chair for a while before replying, "I'll go. But I hope someone can replace those damn curtains before I get home."

"No problem."


To be honest, Alfred really didn't think he needed to attend this "rather important" dinner party. He carried martini and moved around at the party, smiling in regards at the wives of the higher officials and exchanging greetings from time to time with congressmen who had put on some weight.

He met with Mr. President and discussed the recent introduction of the new bill. Alfred said it was great and he supports it, but the truth was that he still wasn't clear on what the main point of that meeting in the afternoon was. He also met with the United States Secretary of Defense. They made a military salute to each other, then chatted away. His eyes were brimming with vigor, sharp as the eagle's eyes as always. Although Alfred was in the party, his mind was on whether the curtains were replaced or not, or what color they replaced it with.

If he hadn't gotten into an argument with Arthur, maybe he would feel a little more active. But he only felt like going home now, sitting on the sofa, watching the television and drinking all the beers Arthur had left in his house.

The waiter that passed by was serving drinks. It seemed like the waiter had to deliver all the foods and wine for the buffet to the front of the table in one go, so Alfred decided to help him out. He took the silver platter and the waiter placed the wine on top. Alfred thought he could handle three or four plates, plus a plate of sliced garlic bread as the appetizer. These didn't amount to much weight for him. But Alfred's hands shook when he intended to move and raised his arms, tipping the silver platter in that instance. All the wineglasses and small plates fell onto the floor and shattered.

Alfred stared blankly as the wine spread to his black leather shoes. The waiter was also shocked, leaving quickly to find cleaning tools for clean up. Alfred's civil officer appeared quickly and took Alfred to the side.

"Are you all right?"

"... I'm fine."

Alfred said, staring at his hands. It was like they weren't his anymore.

"Perhaps you need some rest."

"... Can you give me a cup of wine first?"

"Oh. Certainly."


After sending the civil officer away, Alfred sat alone in a corner of the garden outside. The wind was a bit cold.

The feeling he had when he held the grass cutting machine and the miscalculation of the weight of the books as he sorted out the bookshelf. And how he couldn't carry the wine back then.

He seemed to understand what that weird sensation was.

He lost the superhuman strength he was once so proud of.


I don't know what's going on. In fact, I have no idea. Why did my strength disappear without me noticing it? Are Arthur's illusions playing pranks on me? Is it retaliation for saying mean things about his friends?

I don't know.

Now I'm sitting in my house and changing the channels on the television in boredom. The curtains were replaced (they replaced it with a sky-blue one, just like the color of my eyes). Those officials think I'm sick, so they want me to stay at home and rest. But apart from losing my superhuman strength, I personally think nothing else is wrong with me. I'm breathing and eating as usual. I'm the same as every normal person.

But I get some time off thanks to this. Maybe I can make good use of this time to solve the problem between Arthur and me. I'm tired of this cold war. I don't care whether he still wants to see me as his little brother or break up. Fuck sex, go to hell!

... So I called him, not expecting him to pick up. Anyways, I had already planned on saying "What a cheap coward you are!" as the first sentence, then have a full on attack against his every criticism about my cowardice. After I finished venting out all my resentment, I would go back to the real issue: why the hell won't you do it with me?

As for an apology? No way!

But unexpectedly, the phone only rang for a few times before Arthur picked it up.

"Arthur Kirkland speaking."

"... Yo."

"How's the weather over there?"

I was surprised he was asking me this. I had thought he would either keep silent or be really cold to me. But Arthur was asking about the weather... my god! The weather topic!

"It's good." Even though I didn't want to admit it, but I still went along with him hopelessly and replied, "What about your place?"

"Not bad."

"... Arthur, even though I believe there's no way you can change the decadent impression of me during my childhood in you mind, but-"

"Oh... Alfred." His voice rang out softly, "Can we talk about this another day?"

"What?"

"You know, we should pay more attention to our own national affairs now."

"I don't need you to remind me about that."

"... Of course." He lowered his tone, but recovered after a moment. "Because you're a hero, right?"

Holy shit!

My intuition was shouting at me, but another voice was shrieking with joy: Arthur acknowledged me as a hero!

"Hmm... okay." I thought I must have been swept away by this foolish happiness.

"So we'll solve your physiological problems after we finish dealing with other matters. How's that?"

"Arthur, I think you should go see a psychiatrist..."

"... I'm perfectly fine." He seemed to have said it through clenched teeth.

"No, you really should go. I have some pretty good doctors here. I guarantee those illusions won't be bothering you anymore from now on. I'll go with you the next time you come here for a meeting, hmm?"

Then he hung up on me.

Yup, that's the inflexible Arthur I knew. I suddenly felt relieved. The irritation I had for the past few days had eased up a little. I went to the kitchen and took a jar of coffee while walking with light steps and humming a song. I saw the tea leaves I hadn't thrown away yet at the same time. It wouldn't be long before we made up, so I decided to let them live longer.