Still Waters 2.9: For Absent Friends
Many Times I've Wondered How Much There Is To Know
It was a long drive up the coast to The Point, as Rikki had always called it. It was a solid upthrust of rock, part of some ancient geologic action that had raised a cliff above the sea long ago. It wasn't a particularly imaginative name, but…it was the one that stuck. It was in the central part of the state, near King City in the way that San Diego was near Los Angeles. In any case, it was a place on a small deserted stretch of land that was known only to few outside the members of the group who had followed Father Brian in the eighties and nineties. Unfortunately, it was a few hundred miles north of San Diego, so it was a long trip and the group had to leave early in the morning.
"Some will win, some will loo~ose. Some were born to SIIIING THE BLU~UES!"
Max did his best to ignore the horrible caterwauling noise coming from the driver's seat. Byron had always liked to sing, so Max was sort of used to it. The others, however…Max glanced back at the other passengers and barely managed to hold back a wicked grin. Takahata was pure cool as always; very little could shake the man enough to make him respond with anxiety or irritation. Currently, he seemed slightly amused.
Negi, on the other hand, was squirming around and shooting searching glances at Takahata and Shizuna; it appeared he didn't know how to respond to such a situation.
"Dooon't stop, belieeee~eevin," Byron continued.
Negi finally let out a sigh and stopped squirming, apparently resigning himself to his fate. Max turned his attention to Shizuna.
Now Shizuna, there was a person unafraid to show her emotions! The woman sat there, arms and legs crossed in a severe manner, an irritated frown marring her pretty face. She noticed Max looking at her and sent him a warning glare meant for Byron. Apparently, she was not a fan of off key singing; odd, considering her birth in the land of karaoke.
Max turned off the radio.
"Dooo~on't stop, belieeeee—hey! I was listening to that," Byron complained.
Max sighed and leaned back in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. They had been riding for well over an hour and a half in California traffic, after all…everyone was getting irritable. And that was before Byron had started singing along to the radio.
Byron looked over his passengers in the rear view mirror and grumbled something under his breath. "Yeah yeah, I see how it is. Don't think nobody knows about the way you all sing in the shower or when you're driving alone. Come on, everybody does it. And besides, it's Journey! A classic band playing their best song! Come on!" No one seemed to agree, so Byron rolled his eyes, gave up, and fell silent.
"Freakin critics…"
When Byron pulled over at a gas station a few minutes later, everyone piled out and made their purchases while he filled the SUV's tank.
"Max-san…" Negi said while Max was pondering over which drink to buy. It had been quite a while since he had had such a selection of normal drinks, after all.
"What?"
"Byron-san…is he always like that?" Negi asked, referring to Byron's general…weirdness.
"Most of it's an act, I think," Max said absentmindedly as he picked up a Pepsi. He paused for a moment, then grabbed a Mountain Dew for Byron. "He likes to get a reaction out of people. If his first attempt doesn't get the result he's looking for, he'll turn it up another notch and try again. In fact…" Max looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'll bet you twenty bucks he's got a stack of CDs hidden out there with the most obnoxious music he could find. What do you say?"
Negi didn't answer; instead, his eyes had gone wide and empty, and his face had gone pale. "It…it can get worse…? Oh no…I…I think I want to lie down…"
When everyone got back in the car, Negi waited with baited breath to see what new horrors awaited him in the car ride from hell. He saw the CD case Byron was handling and couldn't help but feel a horrible premonition…it couldn't be! No! He had to do something! Byron's finger was approaching the 'play' button, but he couldn't think of a polite way to tell the man to take his horrible, Godforsaken CD out, break it in half, and jam it down a garbage disposal along with a handful of gravel without sounding rude.
And so his fate was sealed.
"Every night in my dreams, I see you, I feel you~!"
"Damn it Byron! I'm going to rip this %$^&ing CD player out and shove it down your $%^&ing throat if you don't cut it out!" Max bellowed.
"Tch. Come on, it's Celine Dion. How can you not like Celine Dion?"
"Y-yes, it's true! I want to listen!" Shizuna said excitedly from the back seat.
They stopped several hours later in the early afternoon at a small diner Max remembered from his many trips up and down the coast, during his years of doing jobs for Father Brian with the others in the group.
Max pushed the door open, stepped inside, and took a quick look around before moving out of the way to let the others enter.
The aging man behind the counter tossed the towel he was holding up onto his shoulder and leaned on the bar. "What'll it be?"
Everyone gave their orders and took their seats; Max naturally slouched into his old seat at the far end of the bar and turned the spinning chair slightly so he had a view of the door. Negi sat awkwardly beside him, looking around the otherwise deserted building, while Takahata and Shizuna sat down at one of the small tables and Byron excused himself to go to the bathroom.
Negi watched as the man expertly prepared their food, but soon got bored of that and let his eyes drift over the bulletin boards filled with old, tacked-up pictures. He scanned through them one by one; from old black and white pictures that must have been fifty years old through to those that might have been taken yesterday. He was somehow not surprised to spot a few familiar faces in several of them. Max with the dark haired girl from the group picture, and Guy, among others.
The man preparing their orders sat back for a moment and saw the young teacher eyeing the photos. "Some of 'em are from way back in '53 when my dad's older brother first opened this place. That's fifty-four years of history you're looking at, there. He gave the place to my dad in '76 when he retired, and it was given to me oh…ten years ago. It's a tradition; the pictures, I mean. Anyone the owner recognized got their picture up on the wall, along with whoever came in with 'em. It was good for business, but…the chains are taking over now. I don't expect this place will last much more than another year or so." He stopped talking and leaned forward to flip the hamburgers with a deft motion, then leaned back against the bar and resumed talking.
"Why, I remember this one young couple that came through quite regular back fifteen, twenty years ago. Big rough looking young man, pale skin, black hair, always had this cute little dark haired girl hanging on his arm like she'd found a new toy. Exotic looking; she seemed like she might have been Italian, or Greek, maybe. One of those places in the Mediterranean, anyway. Not more than a couple inches over five feet tall, and him approaching six foot."
Negi narrowed his eyes as he listened to the old man ramble on. He sensed that Takahata and Shizuna-sensei were listening as well.
"That bunch did a lot of good for this place, spreading the word down in San Diego and Los Angeles and those towns up north. Business was booming for a while. Then that motorcycle gang moved in and everything went straight to hell," the man suddenly spat. "'Course, that weren't good for business. Nobody wants a cheeseburger if they might end up paying fifty dollars for it in the parking lot." The old man gave the fry basket a good shake and began pouring drinks. Negi waited for a moment to see if he would continue, and glanced at Max when he did not. He frowned in puzzlement at the odd, almost sly look on Max's face, and the looks Max and Byron shot each other when the other man finally came out of the bathroom.
"They cleaned up the place," the old man suddenly said, after Byron made himself comfortable on the other side of Negi. "Kicked the gang out, beat 'em up, and sent 'em packin. The victory photo's over there," the man said, pointing over his back to a large board, full of pictures. A large one was featured prominently, and showed the same set of faces as the others. Negi couldn't help but grin at Max's black eye in the picture, and turned around to see the old man eyeing Max and Byron knowingly. "Ain't seen either one of you in at least ten years," he said.
Max shrugged, grinning crookedly, while Byron smirked.
"How've you been, Dave?" Max asked. "I thought for a moment you didn't recognize me."
"How could I ever forget that ugly mug? Anyway, I'm the same as ever. Something must've happened to you, though. Where's that girl? Rikki, wasn't it?"
"Yeah…she died, a long time ago," Byron supplied.
The old man grunted and turned his attention back to the food for a moment. "Damn shame," he said, putting plates in front of everyone. "She was a beauty. Well…that's life I guess." He segued into another story, and Negi listened with rapt interest to the exploits of his fellow teacher in his younger days.
Later, as everyone piled into the car and drove away, he couldn't help but notice the small smile that had replaced the frown Max had worn ever since they arrived in San Diego. Negi had watched that frown grow for four or five years now; it was about time it disappeared.
It was almost sundown by the time they finally arrived at their destination. Max got out of the SUV in silence, a carefully neutral expression on his face as he stretched a bit to relieve the stiffness acquired from riding in the car for hours; then he started walking up the rocky hillside, backlit by the beginnings of a colorful sunset. Negi moved to follow, but Byron held out a hand.
"Let him be."
Max stuffed his hands in his pockets as he trudged up the hill, mentally counting off the familiar rocks, fenceposts, and other bits of miscellany that he recalled from his many visits here. Rikki had always insisted on stopping here every time they passed by; and, as far as Max knew, it had been her favorite spot in the world. The two of them had spent a lot of time here; watching the sunset, eating cold food from the deli in town, just lying there in the grass in the sun. Others had joined them from time to time, but as far as the two of them were concerned, this place was theirs alone. Not so, now. He could see housing developments off to the south, and construction on what was probably an upscale subdivision to the north.
He finally reached the top of the upthrust of rock that marked the highest point of the cliffside and stood there a moment, looking out at the setting sun reflected on the Pacific. It was a view he knew intimately; he had seen it often enough, after all. He rooted around in his pocket for a moment and drew out two objects. He gave the dead pactio cards a fond look as he recalled everything the two of them had been through together.
"Hey, Rikki. I think…"
Images flashed through his head. Akira's smiling face, Jennifer, Yuuna and Makie and the others. Back to his first year at Mahora and the attacks on the school, running away with Akira in a misguided attempt to keep her safe. Back, before that to his days in the American Division. The meaningless days after Rikki's death that seemed to stretch forever, but actually lasted a mere two years. His first awkward meeting with Jennifer when she was transferred over from Ariadne in the magic world. Their first disastrous mission, following a false lead in an attempt to find a supposedly magical idol, and their later, more successful ones as they grew closer and got to know each other. Jennifer telling Guy off whenever he got too angsty, rolling her eyes when he made a bad joke, the horrible spaghetti she thought she could make...
Their pactio.
And…he couldn't help but grin. Jennifer, Akira, the girls at Mahora, the eleven girls he had been forced to pactio with during the various incidents in his four years there. It was something he wouldn't give up for the world. He reached into a pocket with his other hand and took out the stack of cards, wrapped double with rubber bands. He held it out in one hand, holding the two dead cards in the other, weighing them against each other.
He grinned ruefully as he made up his mind. "Sorry about this, but it's one or the other." He put the contents of one hand back into his pocket and shook his head. He took a few steps back, enough for a running start, and took a deep breath. Now or never.
He ran forward, and threw the two dead cards into the sky.
He watched silently as they first cut, and then fluttered through the air, down to the sea far below, where they vanished into the water.
He stood up straight, and for the first time in a long time, actually felt…good. It was refreshing, and he smiled without really knowing why. "I guess I'll see you later, Rikki…goodbye."
And with that, he turned around and strolled back down to the waiting car.
A ghostly being stood on the upthrust of rock, watching the car disappear into the evening. She smiled, a bit sadly, and turned to take one last look at the sunset. Already immaterial, her form shimmered as she looked down to the sea, where he had thrown the two dead cards. She looked once more in the direction the car had taken and sent her well wishes with it, to help those within in whatever path they might choose. It was time to for her to move on.
Goodbye, Max.
She floated down to the cards as they were tossed by the surf, took her own in her hand, and she was gone.
