All we ever wanted was everything
All we ever got was cold
Get up, eat jelly, sandwich bars and barbed wire
And squash every week into a day
-'All we ever wanted', Bauhaus
There was faint music in the background. We walked side by side, occasionally brushing our hands against each other's… I touched hers anyway. It was exceptionally bright that evening, they'd put up the good lamps and all because the Mayor would supposedly attend. Yuck. Celebrities; they never show up as promised. It's not as if he'd care for our little... show anyway…so little…we are little….
Wake up!
She's walking by my side, mumbling something. Sure, I'd like the girl to be my friend. She looks stiff, bony, like a walking corpse. There's something odd about the way she talks, hiding something. A little, exciting little secret.
Or is it? Not? Huh?
She nudged me. An accident. She's back to walking now, no expression. How...boring.
Wait wait, let me get back on my 'train of thought', woo woo!
"What's so funny?"
…Shit, I should keep it down.
"Uhm…nothing just you know…it's nice here, right?"
Put on a nice smile, Jerome.
She smiles back. No teeth. Come to think of it...I've never seen her teeth.
"Yeah, you know it's a bit chilly an all…"
A cold-blooded, toothless woman. Jerome, you could do better.
"We can go warm up by a can, if you'd like."
She turns around, gives me another toothless smile.
"Yeah sure."
Jerome was quiet company. Not as intriguing as I'd hoped but at least he was quiet. We weren't given a chance to do much –there were big lines in front of most attractions and Jenny wouldn't hand out free cotton candy anymore. He frowned slightly when I mentioned the petting zoo but agreed to follow, as long as I promised to let him try a cigarette by the bank later. Oh well, a cigarette less won't hurt anyone. It's surprising how he changed his mind on the subject though.
We walked all the way back, our silence interrupted only by giggles casually escaping his lips. The thing is, when I asked him why the laughs he always responded something legit ("That monkey just threw shit at the donkey's face!", "Look at those pants on Lloyd!", "Ducks! Need I say more?") but it occurred to me that he might as well have been laughing to himself the whole time. He was weird…but sort of funny at the same time. It certainly felt much safer wandering around the circus with an eighteen year old boy that by myself. Which is probably why I enjoyed such poor company in the first place.
Finally we went and sat down side by side near the bank. You could clearly see Gotham's skyline from here. A million- billion of small blinkering lights from the tall buildings. It was magnificent. I could tell he was enjoying it too. The small lights reflected in his eyes and for a moment there I let myself believe he was charming.
"So." All of a sudden the silence between us was broken as he jumped around, facing me. "I think we made a little deal back there." He smirked. I glared at him and huffed, sneaking the smoke out of my pocket.
"I assume you don't know how to roll."
"I'm a fast learner." He talked back. I chuckled.
"No thanks, I don't want to waste my smoke for nothing. It took some guts to acquire this object." I said, waving the package close to his face. He raised a brow at me.
"You stole it?"
I glanced at him cheekily and shrugged.
"Maybe."
"You're baaaaaaad." He breathed, but the look on his face was the furthest thing from deterring. I glanced at him again, while drawing a pinch of smoke and chuckle. It was strange how the moment we distanced ourselves from the camp he'd lightened up. It was as if he'd left a burden behind. I could clearly tell he was breathing more easily here.
"Well," I said, licking the paper and rolling it, "you ain't seen nothing yet." I inspected my work and handed it to him. He took it from my fingers and examined it, then placed it on his lips the right way. "Have you done this before?" I asked, brows raised in concern. I certainly didn't want tonight to be the night he'd discover he has asthma or something.
"No, not really." He replied, with a befuddled look. I nodded silently and helped him light it up. "Ok now suck and breathe." I instructed. He did as he was told. It didn't go down the first time –probably reflex or something, but he managed to do it the second time. All of a sudden smoke was coming out of both his nostrils and mouth and he was coughing like crazy. I watched him and found myself breaking into a hysterical laughter. Jerome was choking on the smoke and for some reason I found it hilarious. He folded in two and I soon realized that he too had been choking laughs the whole time. After a while he settled down and I patted him on the back.
"You'll get used to it, the first time's always the worst."
"I don't intend to make it into a habit." He frowned. "I was just curious."
"Oh."
Had I been a more responsible, sensible person, I wouldn't have picked up the cigarette to finish it myself. His mom was a whore and who knows what she'd passed down onto him. But I was careless, always have been.
He watched me smoke the rest of the cigar. We talked about stuff. Surprisingly I found out that he loooved to talk. I mean, loved it. He could go on forever on almost any subject that came up. We started with simple subjects: the circus, the animals, the show and moved on to bigger ones: life, circumstances, our dreams, our reality. I told him things I probably should have kept to myself. I assumed he did so too...
"You quit med-school for...", a gesture towards the camp, "This?" There's some genuine shock in his expression.
"It wasn't just med school. It was...ugh." I roll my eyes, look away. Jerome's face is the last thing I want to be looking at while confessing to those well-buried feelings. "..."
"Parents?"
A pause. I can feel the bittersweet smile forming on my chapped lips.
"They pushed too hard, you know? I just…pff…why am I telling you all this you probably don't even care…"
A warm hand on my shoulder.
"I know what pushing means."
I pause again. I want to ask something, but it's really awkward. Yet, the words are dancing on my tongue, leaving me with a ticklish sensation. I finally give in;
"Does... does your mom... 'push' you?" I turn around to witness his expression shift into a peculiar frown. For a second there, you'd think he was mad at me for asking. But it melted into a puzzled and hesitant biting of his lower lip.
"...She has some...bad moments. But, don't we all?" An awkward chuckle. I must have hit a nerve. He turns to me slowly and it feels like I'm noticing a few details on his face a little better. His eyes reflect the moonbeams that sparkle on the dark river beside us. I finally smile back, then part my lips to mutter a quiet response;
"...Yeah. Don't we all."
