Ello ello. Here I am again with the agnst. A wheelbarrow full this time. So climb on in, ya cheeky vixens.
Disclaimer: Je ne suis pas propriétaire Le Puissant Boosh. (thanks Google!)
The water laps up against my scalp, weighing my perfect locks down into the basin. As the pair of delicate hands move up to massage my scalp, rubbing the shampoo and other heaven-sent-products into my mane, it's so relaxing that I almost feel as if I could have a little sleepy right there in the salon. When I close my eyes, humming to myself in pleasure, a small splash of water slaps my face and I open my eyes.
"This ain't a hotel, y'know," chides Misty from above.
"Not with that bedside manner." I grin back. She mock-scowls at me, before focusing back on her work and running her fingers through my hair. I relax back, my neck against the cool china. I'm somewhat scared to ask the next question; "How does it look?"
"We ain't done yet! You'll see for yourself soon enough." She tells me, sounding like a cross between a nagging mother and an impatient artist. Which, she was, somewhat to me. I dunno how I would've been able to look in the mirror for the past five years if it hadn't been for Misty.
"Has all the colour gone through?" I ask.
"Yes."
"It doesn't look too….gothic?"
"Would that matter?" She asks, rubbing in what smelt suspiciously like coconut milk.
"Yeah. I'm going for more punk, y'know. Like I said, Joan Jett with a bigger backcomb structure. M'thinking of going Goth maybe next year, depends if the fashion fortune cookies are right."
"Wish I had those. Anyway, what happened to you being King of the Mods?"
"Misty, that is SO 2003!"
"Which is the year right now."
"Ok, it's so MARCH 2003."
I heard her tut. Nothing more.
My lips curled; "…Do you think he'll like it?"
Her hands went still. Maybe I should've stopped while I was ahead. Her face peered over to look down at mine, her upside down smile making me blush even though from that angle it looked like she was frowning…and had eyes on her chin.
"You're doing this for…Oh, I should've guessed." She sighed, her hands setting to work again.
"I'm not that predictable, am I?"
"Just a tad." She tittered, smoothing a bit of conditioner through my long locks; "Thought you'd given up on that a bit. You said he won't even let you touch him anymore."
"He does. So long as I don't do it for too long. I can get away with a squeeze on the arm sometimes. And we did hug when we found out the zoo was closing."
"Did you?" She asked, genuinely shocked.
"…Well I hugged him from behind. And he was unconscious coz he'd fallen asleep in the tube, with his head against the glass, but he didn't shake me off."
"Wow." said Misty, putting on a decent act of being impressed; "Get in there, Noir."
I groaned to myself. This was how pathetic I'd got in the last ten years. To the point that any touching of Howard, no matter how small or one-sided, was bliss for me. The only thing that stopped me from combusting with frustration was voicing it all out to my hairdresser who, once upon another lifetime, had been dead jealous of me for being Howard's 'constant'. Now, after five years of listening to me go on about him, I doubt she envied me in the slightest. Who would?
Three minutes later, I was sat back in one of many plush leather seats of my favourite salon, facing the mirror whilst Misty combed and blow-dried my hair. When she'd removed the towel before, I'd gasped, stunned by the new person I was greeted with before me. My heart actually let off a pang. I hadn't even said goodbye to my old hair. I looked like a different Vince. New Vince. The old, blonde, slightly chubby Vince was back at the zoo, playing table tennis with the apes. Not that New Vince didn't do that with Bollo sometimes. When he's not too busy DJ-ing. And I'm not too busy eating a banana and watching Top Of The Pops.
Maybe I hadn't changed completely. I looked so much different though. It was truly possible for me to be mistaken for a rock legend, a fact which I'd realise was truer than I first believed as time went on. Vince Noir - Rock n' Roll star. Now not only did I have the clothes, I had the look as well - all I needed was our big break. The zoo wasn't there to hold us back anymore. All thanks to that bomb Bainbridge had set off to destroy the place to claim insurance.
I'll never forget that night when me and Howard drove back from our little encounter with that green cockney witch - and my own cut-short reunion with Bryan - to find the zoo nothing more than a blazing inferno. I completely lost it. The thought of all those poor animals, not to mention the zookeepers working the night shift, trapped inside burning to death. Howard had been forced to grip my hands to hold me back from charging in there. I was so distraught that I'd thought, only for a moment, about crying into Howard's arms. Then I remembered. So I just stood there, staring, my cheeks bone dry, whilst my heart bled silent tears. For a split second, I thought I felt Howard touching my wrist. But, knowing me, it was all my imagination.
All of my world seemed to be burning down around me. I kept expecting some hellfire demon to fly in and steal the one last precious thing I had left. But Howard stayed firmly stood beside me though, looking just as horrified as I did. It was only when Naboo appeared and explained how he'd seen the fire coming in his tea-leaves (god bless Tetley) that he'd magicked everyone out of the zoo; animals and humans. Bollo soon appeared dragging his hairy knuckles behind our little shaman friend. I'd raced forward and hugged the big hairy bean-bag so tight that I almost knocked him over and he squeezed me back, giving me the comfort I so badly needed in that terrifying moment.
"So where are you living now then? You gone back to your uncle's? His place was well fancy!" chatted Misty whilst the hair-dryer was off and she was back-combing my new raven mane.
"Nah. He moved back to Marseille a few years back. I've just been kipping on the zoo floor or at Howard's flat when we weren't on night shifts."
"So you and him have spent every night together for the past ten years?" She said, slightly aghast.
"Pretty much."
"And he still never…Oh wow. Dunno how you stick with that, Vince. Any other…I mean, any woman would've thrown the towel in years ago. But you still hang in there, don't you?"
"You don't know, Howard. No one does. If you did; you'd understand."
Misty mumbled something along the lines of "I'll take your word for it." probably forgetting the fact that I could see her eyebrows wave with doubt in the mirror before me. We didn't talk about Howard anymore after that. Only secondly down to the fact I was awe-struck by own genius new barnet.
* * *
"Wow!"
"Oh my god…I'm sorry, I just had to say, I LOVE your hair!"
"Where did you get it done?"
"It's not a wig?! That's amazing!"
"Suits your eyes. Are they contacts?"
"What's the basic style?"
"What's your number?"
"What's your name?"
"I LOVE YOU…uh, your hair, I mean…"
Barely ten seconds after I left the hairdressers, a swarm of praise and awe from glassy-eyed strangers began to approach me out of no where. Random strangers abandoning their original route for the day and coming towards me to admire my new look. A vast majority being fourteen year old girls who instantly began twirling their hair around their fingers as they spoke me to me with voices fragile as butterfly wings. The first time in my life that a teenage girl fawns all over me and it's ten years too late. The only girls who ever approached me when I was at school where closeted lesbians and plastics who'd twist my ears until I gave them my hair-products. Safe to say, I preferred those over the rampant lesbians.
I walked down my street towards the Nabootique - the shop in which I lived in the flat above - humming to myself whilst the sun seemed to provide the inaudible lyrics to join me. This seemed to be happening me a lot recently. It had first started back at the zoo. There was this woman zookeeper; slim, dark with high cheek bones called Mrs. Gideon. She'd never been married - her first name actually was 'Mrs.' Imagine that! Howard was in love with her. I mean he was head over heels with this bird. He wouldn't stop going on and on about her. Her cream-oval nose, her luscious dark hair, her perfect slim figure. Ugh. Made me wanna be sick in her beloved reptile house. Anyway; she wasn't interested in Howard. Hell, she couldn't even remember his name half the time! He always worked so hard to impress her, to win her attention, to the point it almost killed him at times - each time a fail. Blind, ungrateful, Panda-humping cow…
Except that she noticed me. She always remembered my name. And she always looked at me the exact same way those girls outside the hairdressers had looked at me. She'd flash a smile with a pair of sly, twinkling, all-knowing eyes as she'd gaze upon my hair. She'd even ask to touch it. Then, like I feared, she'd take advantage and grab it - a barrage of memories collapsing in on me. So many times I wanted to scream at her to leave me alone. That there was a guy standing behind her who fancied the zookeepers jacket off her. A guy who'd treat her right, keep her safe, make her feel like the they were above the world and ruled the stars. It's only now I realize why I never did such a thing.
After opening and closing the door, I bounded up the stairs to the flat. I was grateful to see that Naboo and Bollo hadn't taken up their usual positions on the sofa with Naboo's hookah. As I glanced around, the place seemed free of gorilla and shaman. Naboo's bedroom door at the end of the hall was wide open, no sounds of life coming from inside. The only door that was closed was mine and Howard's shared bedroom. His hideous loafers were sitting bored and unused under the coat rack. He was definitely in. Why was the back of my neck beginning to itch? I groaned, thinking how Bollo better not have fleas again. Sometimes it was like living with a cross between a mangy dog and smelly tramp. I'd have to teach the ape how to sort himself out a bit. Buy him some Herbal Essences maybe.
"'Ey, Howard, you in? I've got something to show you!" I called to the closed bedroom door.
It did cross my mind to let myself in, it was my room as well after all, but I knew how important privacy was to Howard. He loved his "personal solitaire" or whatever it was. I was in such a good mood, more so than usual, so I didn't fancy getting my head bitten off again by the disgruntled maverick and spoil everything. It was becoming all too easy lately for me to upset Howard. I didn't have a clue why. I was being the same as I always have.
That was the whole point of that night. I wanted to take Howard out to celebrate our homecoming. A brand new chapter in our lives that would hopefully scribble out the slight tension that's been fizzling between us lately. I keep trying to pin-point where it all started. Sometimes I wander if it was when I talked him into fighting that kangaroo; thinking it would impress Gideon and he'd be happy. Of course, if you're a Guardian reader then you know how that turned out. Even though I told him to stay down, even though I saved him, even though I was there dancing and hugging and congratulating him - when it all went tits up, it was me who got the brunt of Howard's anger at his failure. Me who was in the dog house. Well, monkey house more like, when I bolted straight to Bollo's cage and had to had to let the ape hold my shaking body for a good two hours until I could bare to face Howard again.
From then on, nothing I did for Howard seemed to be good enough. Complementing his unique generic face almost gave me a smack in the teeth. The tiniest slip-up or stupid mistake would result in me being thrown out of Howard's sight. Saving his life a gazillion times didn't even earn me as much as a thank you. By the end, in our final two weeks of working at the zoo, I began to snap. Howard not having faith in my dream of being a star. Howard refusing to talk to me about his troubles. Howard snapping at for me all my attempts at helping out on our little road-trip being useless. I couldn't take it anymore. All my life I'd had to put up with not being good enough for people. The one person in the world who made me feel worth something was now becoming my biggest criticiser. So I left the van. I wanted to walk far away and forget all about Howard, all about how he made me feel, all about how I missed how he used to make me feel, all about how much I was so hopelessly in love with him.
Of course; I could never do such a thing. I always ended up coming back to Howard. Who else did I have? It wasn't his fault that I kept fucking up. I'd just have to try harder. Maybe not be as clingy as before. He hates being touched. Not just by me. It can't only be with me. I was going to make it up to him that night. Take him out to these new clubs in Dalston that Leroy's been telling me about. Me and Howard would have fun again. I'd make sure of it. Like old times.
It was then I realized that I'd been standing outside the bedroom door for almost ten minutes without having a single response from my friend inside. I frowned, looking down at my Micky Mouse watch - a thank you present from Uncle Walt - seeing the white gloves pointing out it was nearly three in the afternoon. Was Howard still in bed?
I rapped my knuckles again on the wood; "Oi. Lazy arse. What you doin' in there? You better not be jerking off over Gideon's picture again! I thought you were over her."
Silence.
No. Wait, I could hear something. Heavy breathing. Some sort of life sign.
"Howard? Are you ok?"
Nothing. More of what sounded more like a muffled version of Bollo breathing into his inhaler. Except I knew for sure, Punk intuition, that the ape wasn't in there. Howard was.
I tapped on the wood again, lighter this time; "Howard, you not feelin' too good? D'you want me to get you a berroca?"
The breathing hitched like an out-of-tune microphone, making me start, the sudden awareness of what I was hearing slapping me round the face. Howard was crying.
"Howard!?"
My insides froze over. My Howard. Crying. Surely that was an oxymoron. Yeah, I'd seen Howard tear up and start to whimper before, usually at moments when we were facing a potential hideous death, where all his ego and mythical courage would shrivel away. But never, in ten years, had I ever seen or heard what I was hearing now as I pressed my ear to the keyhole for clearer listening. Howard was sobbing. Trying to muffle it by some means but doing a poor job, as if smothering a howling wolf.
Being on the other side of a door, isolating me from my broken friend, was too much for to stand for more than a few seconds. Tossing all my concerns about invading Howard's personal space over my shoulder, I turned the door knob and barged my way into the room. The sight waiting me on the other side of the threshold shoved me back, stumbling in horror as I spotted Howard curled up in a foetal position on the floor beside his bed.
A puddle of what looked and smelt a lot like simmering vomit lying before him.
"Shit, Howard!" I bolted towards him, pulling my shirt up to my nose as the revolting stench wafted to my face. Treading none-to-carefully over the sick, I stood over my friend who was lying with his knees slightly bent and his arms holding himself so tight that his nails stabbed into his strong arms. He was shaking violently, his eyes shut tight, tears pouring out endlessly from beneath his eyelids onto his blotchy red cheeks. My own breath got trapped in my throat. Was Howard having a fit? Damnit, what was I supposed to do?!
"Howard! Howard, look at me, please. Tell me what's wrong!"
My hands were on his shoulders, trying to roll him onto his back to get his face away from the sick and also to face me. At that time, I don't think he even fully knew I was there. He was so heavy though. I knew I had to get him off the floor before anything else. Using my worry as a boost, I slipped my arms under Howard and, with a great deal effort, hauled him off the floor and into a sitting position. He collapsed forward onto me, still curling into himself like a hedgehog, but I didn't let myself fall with him. His head lolled onto my shoulder, a wet patch quickly forming on my jacket. I wrapped my arms under his elbows and heaved the great Northern lump up and onto the bed before my legs gave way. There were a few negatives to having such a feminine figure.
Once Howard was on the beige mattress, I shifted him up so that his head was resting on the padded and prepared pillows. His position was still as much the same as when I'd entered the room. At least he was off the floor now. He didn't seem to be shaking as much either. His face was still flushed and glistening with fallen tears. I reached forward and tentatively wiped them away with my sleeve. For all the good it did as fresh drops began to leak. Biting my lip, I put my hand to his un-tamed curls.
"Howard….Howard, what happened to you? Please. Howard, please, speak to me…"
He still didn't reply. However, as I began stroking his hair further into a soothing rhythm, his sobs began to subside into snuffling. He let out a strange mewling sound that was too small and pitiful to have come from anyone as big as Howard. It was too small to break my heart. Yet, it managed to do just that. The stench of vomit seeped through my useless filter. Sighing heavily, I pulled up the duvet at the end of Howard's bed to tuck it over him. Only up to his arms as it was quite warm already with the afternoon sun blazing in from the window. I closed the curtains. Sunshine wasn't welcome when the moon came out to cry.
I attended to cleaning up the puddle of sick, looking over my shoulder every two seconds to check on Howard, whose breath was beginning to ease out into a reluctant sleepy. I grit my teeth to the point I nearly bit into my gums. Someone had hurt Howard. I'd been out getting my hair dyed and someone had come into our flat, our home, and stolen away my proud, strong, energetic Howard and left behind this…shell. They may as well have taken everything and left behind his ugly nutmeg jacket for all the life left in the man lying beneath the duvet. My stomach was boiling. I hadn't been this angry, confused and lost since about six months before when I'd been told Howard had died. The feelings churning away inside me weren't much different from what I felt that horrible day. If anything I was even more lost. There was no blood. No wound. No sign of forced entry. What the hell had happened?
Had the Spirit of Jazz returned to give Howard one last tormenting? Or maybe it was that green witch we ran into on that rode trip, having hunted us down for revenge?
Whoever they were; I swore under my breath that they were gonna pay. No, I'm not a spiteful guy. Water under the Tower bridge is my favourite motto. That and Hakuna Mattata. But I'd never seen Howard like this before. And not having a clue as to how or what had happened only made my anger so much worse. The fact that I hadn't been here to save him like I always did made me want to burn my Chelsea boots as a form of self-harm. Yet someone had broken him…made him sob. It was more nauseating than the vomit I was clearing up. Why did so many people seem to want to hurt Howard? He was so sweet when you got know him. He was gorgeous.
Once the puddle was taken care of, I took a wet flannel from the bathroom and went back to where my friend was lying, now quiet apart from the odd sniff and inward sigh. I sat on his bed and wiped away the residue of sick on the corners of his lips before padding the cloth over his sticky, tear-stained cheeks. I could only imagine how much Howard would snap at me in embarrassment for what I was doing to him right now. He hated the fact that our supposed 'roles' reversed so often - that it was me taking care of him most of time. I didn't understand. Howard could take care of me any time he wanted to. If he wanted to. As if on cue, my friend's eyes flickered open for the first time.
I sent a silent prayer up to Jagger for letting me see those eyes again. In spite of my worries before, I couldn't help but smile down at the tired man. "Hey…" It was more a sigh of relief than a greeting.
Howard blinked up at me, his brow curving slightly; "Vince…? I…Oh…Oh, God!" His face immediately began to fall, scrunching up horribly, his hands leaping up to hide from me. I grabbed them, not letting them keep me away from my friend again, clutching them tight below Howard's chin.
"Howard, what happened? Who did this to you? Tell me who they are and I swear I'll burn their fingers off with my straighteners!"
Those watery brown eyes looked up at me. Howard's lips twitched slightly. Was he trying to smile at me? Even against his misery I couldn't recognize it. It had been so long since he'd really smiled at me. He then began to shift positions, sitting up out of the duvet cocoon and leaning back against the wall - his hands still clasped in mine.
He ducked his head, all trace of what-could've-been-a-smile having faded. "Vince."
Hearing him say my name, choked and strained as his voice was, made my heart cheer. My Howard was still in there somewhere. I knew it. I shuffled forwards so I was sat on my knees opposite him.
"I'm 'ere." I tried to sound reassuring, which is hard to do with a voice as camp as mine. I squeezed Howard's hand tight. "I'm 'ere and I'm not goin' anywhere. Calm down and tell me what happened."
Howard then seemed to let the words fall out before his body stopped him; "I…I got a call, not long after you left to go out…a call from my parents."
My stomach dropped.
"It's alright, darlin," the endearment slipped out unnoticed as I moved my hand to Howard's face, tucking a matted curl behind his ear. "Take your time, it's ok." I had all the time in the world for him.
Howard's lip wobbled dangerously, two shattered eyes wandering down to look through my torso; "Th…they said that…Cree. They'd d-discovered she was…u-using. Heroin, they said….A-and, they f-found her…in the bathroom yesterday….She'd overdosed. They got her to the hospital and…they were trying all night to save her…a-and they thought she was going to make it but…."
Fuck…
"She didn't." I gulped, finishing Howard's strained efforts for him. He shook his head slowly, screwing his face up once more, then collapsed forwards and into my arms.
His much larger body convulsed against me whilst I wrapped my arms tight around his neck. One hand landed on a broad shoulder whilst the other flew to the back of his head and ran my fingers through his soft, thin curls. I could feel Howard's tears drenching my chest through the damp fabric layers as he nuzzled against it.
I could feel his chest heaving as he sobbed; "Fuck…Vince, what he fuck am I gonna…."
"Shh…it's alright. It's gonna be alright. I've got you," I soothed, laying a soft kiss on his hair before stroking my hand through it again. "I've got you, baby, it's gonna be ok."
"Oh God…Vince, I…"
"Easy now, sweetheart. Shh…Just take it slow. Let's get all those tears out before you start speaking, ey?"
He nodded against me, bringing his arms out and around my skinny frame. I had to conceal a gasp as my heart soared at the estranged feel of those strong arms holding onto me again after so long. I embraced Howard to me even tighter, taking in this tender moment for all it was worth, whispering endless comforts and endearments into my friend's hair. Howard holding me. Me holding Howard. How long had I waited for us to be like this again? Only an hour ago, a mere squeeze of the wrist was all I'd be grateful to get. Now I had Howard in my arms, letting me cradle his head to my cheek, not caring for the words I was hushing him with. A dazed smile began to creep upon my face - and I instantly kicked myself for feeling any pleasure at this awful time.
Howard's little sister. Dead. By a drug overdose. It was all so ugly. Cree was the only one in Howard's family who I knew he gave a toss about. There was quite an age difference. Seven years? Eight? She was younger than me then. And she'd done herself in with smack. I didn't get it. The few times I'd seen her when she came down to visit Howard, she seemed so…good? A mini-female version of Howard. Socially-inept, gangly, lame taste in music and fashion, bit emotionally repressed - yet sweet, helpful and secretly craving adventure and fame. She always looked so jealous when Howard would tell her about the adventures me and him went on, as if we'd gone to Alton Towers and hadn't asked to take her. Fuck. I could remember Howard promising her to take her to Euro Disney with us next summer.
Oh God. Oh, Howard…
"I d-don't…I don't understand it, Vince…" Howard croaked after a while. "I…I didn't even know she knew about that stuff…let alone…Fuck, I'm so pathetic and useless!"
"Ey, listen to me, you batty crease." I chided gently, lifting Howard's head up and placing my hands on his shoulders to look at his tear-stained face; "I don't wanna hear any of that now, alright? What happened was not your fault. You had no idea about what she was doing, so how were you-"
"That's just it, Vince!" Howard grimaced, tears continuing to leak, "I'm her brother. I'm her big brother, I'm supposed to know about these things. I thought I was the only person in the family she could talk to. Y'know what our bastard parents are like. God, even on the phone my dad sounded all haughty and callous as usual. Like he was phoning to say he'd turned my bedroom into a study or sommat….I wasn't even there to say goodbye to her. She must've been so scared…"
"You didn't know, Howard." Seeing him like this was cutting me up deeper and deeper. And all I could do was hold onto him and wipe his tears with my fingers. "But she knew how much you loved her. And she had that with her till the end, didn't she?"
Howard looked up at me, a new expression sinking into his mature features. His face softened, his eyes beginning to sparkle at me with a sparkle behind that sheen of tears. His lips curved into a wobbly smile as he looked at me. My stomach's butterfly collection was shaken up. The tiny spark of hope I carried with me always was now a shining blaze. He put a hand to my cheek, cupping it tentatively;
"Vince…what would I-"
His words were halted by the sound of the front door slamming shut from downstairs. The faint sound of a lisp, a grunt and heavy paws stomping up the stairs made Howard's expression switch within a second. The smile faded. His hand dropped from my face. His eyes widened to freakish (or normal) proportions. Next thing I knew, he was pushing me aside like a tree-branch and racing towards the door, breathing what sounded disturbingly like a growl.
I shot up and raced across the room to grab him by the arm, swinging him round to face me. The new look on his face that had replaced the trembling frail brokenness before scared me to my soul. Howard's brown eyes were wide awake with sheer, animal hunger. I wondered if he wanted me to make some lunch maybe. I'm sure there was a baguette in the fridge. Or was it something else…No, that was too good to be true. Not at this moment anyway. This was a different animalistic urge. His teeth were bared and his muscles beneath my grip tense as taught. An urge to kill.
"Howard, what the hell?" I asked, my heart in my throat.
"I'm gonna kill them, Vince!" He spat at me, his mouth foaming like a rabid dog.
"Who?" I asked, wiping my face. "Naboo and Bollo? They ain't done anything. They didn't kill your sister. I know Naboo deals in wacky baccy but he never dabbles in the hard-core stuff."
"My dad said that he and Mum were trying to ring me all of last night to get hold of me. But we were at our gig." Me and Howard had decided to start a band since leaving the zoo, "H e said he left a message with one of my flatmates to get hold of me as soon as possible and, if I could, get on the first train to Leeds. They also said they tried to phone me throughout the night but couldn't get through. I never got that message, Vince! I was playing a stupid keyboard whilst my little sister was fighting for her life in hospital! IF IT WEREN'T FOR THAT FUCKING DWARF AND HIS MONKEY-"
"Shhh, keep your voice down! You know Bollo hates to be called 'monkey'. He's an ape, it's like species racist slang to him." I tried to calm Howard down but he was buzzing worse than I did on three lattes.
"He's dead! They both are!"
"Howard, stop it, you're being a grieving idiot. You dunno what you're doing. If you try and take on Bollo, he'll stamp on your skull like a hard-boiled egg. If you go after Naboo then he'll transform you into a frog and smoke you."
"I don't care anymore." Howard muttered viciously, still struggling towards the door as I kept trying to hold him back, his mourning state having weakened him slightly. "I don't care what happens to me and it's their fault!"
"No, it isn't." I snapped, gritting my teeth and shutting my eyes for the inevitable.
"Why not?" He challenged.
"Because Naboo passed on the message for me to tell you!"
I drew back my hand, releasing my enraged friend. Only as soon as I stepped back, he'd stopped scrambling for the door. He'd stopped doing anything altogether. I watched his back slowly straighten up as he absorbed the words I'd confessed to him. There was silence. Somewhere enclosed in that silence was a key that I used to unlock a door in my mind. Out of that door spilled a wave of acid guilt like that blood scene from The Shining.
Shit. What had I done?!
Jagger, forgive me. Cree, forgive me. Howard…
"M'so sorry. Howard, I'm really, really sorry…" I whispered to a statue.
An intake of breath told me he'd come to life; "…What do you mean 'you got the message'?" Howard's voice was so eerily calm I had to itch my forearms. "You…were with me rehearsing…"
"And about half eight you realized that you'd forgotten to bring your amp. So you sent me back to get it for you. When I got back here, Naboo told me that he'd gotten a call a few minutes before from your mum. Saying she wanted you to get in touch with her asap. Dunno why he felt the need to spell that last word out to me. She didn't say anything about why or mention your sister…Naboo told me to pass the message onto you and…I said I would."
Howard turned around to face me, his expression stone cold; "You didn't though."
I shook my head, ducking beneath my fringe.
"…Why not?" Howard's voice sounded so small and frail. As if he was set to burst into tears all over again.
"'Cause they'd been calling you for weeks lately. You always seemed to be either on the phone to them or telling me to tell them you were in the shower or sommat. They weren't giving you a moment's peace. I could see how much they were doing your 'ead in, Howard and I…" I was spewing out words in one, long, breathless string and needed to take in some air before launching off again; "I thought it was probably why you'd been so stressed and angry lately…So I didn't tell you 'cause I knew you'd ring them straight back even if you didn't want to. Then I unplugged the phone so they couldn't call back…and we could be togeth-"
Before I could finish explaining myself, Howard's hand had found it's way onto my throat. In a swirl of material colour, I blinked, my head crashing back against a hard surface and opened my eyes to find myself held up against the wall. My feet dangled helplessly above the ground while my hands leapt to hold onto Howard's wrist as his fingers encircled tighter around my neck, crushing against my wind-pipe. I chocked, gasping for air and struggling to keep my eyes open when all I could see was Howard's murderous eyes on me. And they hurt me more than his choking me ever could. Though that did fucking hurt as well.
I tried to pull his hands off me but his grip was iron-tight. "How…Howard…I-I…c-can't…"
"SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP!" He roared, slamming me back against the wall again. My head was knocked back once more and the world began to blur around me. "You evil, disgusting, stupid little…Do you have any idea what you've done?!"
"Howard, please…I can't breathe…" I cried, my voice rasping. For split second, as my pleading eyes met Howard's, I didn't think he gonna let go. I believed he was going to kill me there and then.
Then his fingers loosened and he dropped me to the floor like an unwanted bin-bag. I staggered once my feet hit the ground and I massaged my throat, gratefully taking in a heap of air to my lungs. Doubling over, I looked up to a seething Howard. He may have let me go but the deadly glint in his eyes remained. Before I could think of moving, his hands were on me again, this time gripped on my forearms. His thumb began to bore into a familiar tender spot beneath my left shoulder.
His hands were shaking. I could tell he had never done something like this before and it was terrifying him. He was moving on pure grief and hatred. He hates me.
"Howard…" I squeaked, cowering in his grasp, "…I swear I was only thinking of you-"
"LIAR!" He explodes, bashing me back against the wall once again; "YOU WERE ONLY THINKING OF YOURSELF. ALL YOU WANTED WAS TO DISTRACT ME LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO. You have no idea about what I'm going through, do you? You didn't even cry when your own...Is that what the hair is all about, is it? Jet black? Like you sodding HEART!"
The door burst open to a swish of middle-eastern robes and a body of dark fur. Howard didn't recognize their entrance at first, his focus fixed on me and shutting out the rest of the world. Something I used to pray to the rock n' roll gods to happen for me. They obviously misheard me, the deaf gits. Our flatmates stared, gormless, at us for the first few seconds. I glanced at Naboo, assuming by the furrowing of his brow that he was wondering whether we were some effect of his "'avin' it large!".
"What's goin' on?!" He demanded to know, with as much authority as a four hundred year old shaman trapped inside an ever-youthful short body could sound. "Bollo, get Howard off before he kills Vince!" He ordered the ape beside him.
Bollo didn't need telling twice. He grabbed Howard's arms with his paws and pinned them behind his back with more of a struggle then it looked like he'd guessed he needed to use on a light-weight wimp like Howard. The maverick writhed violently in front of me, while I pressed myself back against the wall, hoping Naboo would enchant it and allow me to sink into it like I did that in that mirror of his.
My hands were sweating with fear. Not fear of Howard physically hurting me. That wouldn't make so much as a dent to what else I was dreading. It was the fear of losing my best friend forever that was munching away at my insides without ever being satisfied. Not too long ago I had been holding Howard in my arms, believing something beautiful could come out of this tragedy - and now he was having to be hold back by Bollo in case he snapped my neck. The world was put on mute for a small moment, where all I could see was Howard in front of him, snapping and clawing out at me like a beast for my blood. Oh God. What had I done to him?
"Harold go crazy! Harold try and hurt precious Vince!" The ape was growling as he held Howard's arms back tighter, which only agitated him further.
"It's not his fault, Bollo. Don't hurt him!" I cried out.
Naboo came up to me; "Vince, what the hell's happened? Have you been going through my stuff - is Howard possessed?!"
"Harold filled with demon. Bollo beat demon out of Harold with fists!"
"NO!" I shouted, waving my hands up, "It's not like that! He's not possessed. It's my fault!"
There was a small pause.
"Can Bollo still beat Harold with fists?"
This time it was Naboo turning to the gorilla; "Just keep hold of him, Bollo, don't do anything!" He then turned back to me; "Now what's happened? What did you to him?"
"Go on, Vince!"
Howard had spoken up properly for the first time since they entered. He was still snarling at me. I gasped when I noticed a fresh sheen of tears on his eyes, ready to spill as soon as he was forced to relive again the events of that day. "Tell them what you did. For me! 'Cause you're SUCH a good friend. Tell them!" He hissed savagely.
I ducked my eyes away from Howard's glare; "I…I didn't give Howard the message you gave me last night from his parents. Turns out they were ringing to say his sister had taken an overdose of smack. She died this morning…in 'ospital."
Naboo blinked, as much expression as he could physically achieve being plain to see on his deadpan face. There was a definite edge appearing to it as soon as my confession came out. Disgust.
This was when Howard burst into bitter tears; "He cost me my last moments with her! If he'd've told me last night then I could've got on a train and got to her in time! I could've been with her…I might've been able to help her through it! I could've saved her!"
"Oh are you a Healer as well now, Howard?" I snapped, surprising myself and the rest of the room. Fine. I could take the guilt of my mistake not letting Howard say goodbye to Cree. But there was no way I was gonna let him blame for her death. "You being there would've made no difference to if she'd have lived or died - she'd already taken the junk!"
"She might've faught harder if I'd been there with her. But we'll never know now, will we?!" He growled, hot tears slipping down his cheeks. "All because of you! I will get you back for this, Vince, as God is my witness!"
"I didn't force her to take that stuff! You were the one who spoke to her every other day; you should've opened your eyes for once in your vain, selfish life and saw she was having problems! Some brother you are…" I wanted to bite my words and spit them to the ground as soon as they passed my lips. Regret shrunk me back against the walls as Howard's eyes clouded over.
For a while he kept on staring, mouth open, drinking in my spiteful words. All I could do was look back at him, pleading with my eyes and hoping he could hear my sorries crying out from them.
Of course, this is Howard, and he barely see's a Stop sign until it whacks in the face.
He then lunges for me again. This time to kill. So forceful. So determined. Bollo can't hold him forever.
"Narcolepiiii!" Naboo summoned, flicking his wrist at Howard. A crackle disturbed the air.
Howard's head jerked backwards, eyes fluttering shut, before his body crumbled bonelessly backwards in Bollo's reluctant arms.
The heated atmosphere in our one shared room descends to a tense silence.
Panting, I looked down at my friend, my heart breaking all over again as it hits me that this is the most peaceful I've seen him at all that day. I moved forward, wanting nothing more than to cradle his head in my arms again and sooth him into a restful sleep.
Naboo's robed arm blocks my way. "I think it's best you get out of here, Vince."
"What? You're throwing me out?"
"Of course not. Y'know if I was to throw anyone out of the two of you out, it would be him first. But even I've got some compassion and you're not the one whose lost a sister. And you being here isn't helping him so maybe it's best you make yourself scarce while I'm sorting him out." Naboo explained calmly.
I looked over his turban at Bollo who was placing Howard down onto his bed. He flopped down like a big, old-fashioned rag doll, his eyes remaining closed. He needed to be made comfy. I couldn't see either of those guys doing that for him.
"I swear, Naboo…I had no idea about what had happened," I said, my eyes focused on Howard, "I just thought it was his parents harassing him again…It's not like he ever talks to me about Cree, I thought it was something to do with them that was making him all…"
"Howard-like? Vince, you don't have to explain anything to me. I don't really care." He shrugged, "It's Howard you need to convince-"
"I did tell him and he just went all Sweeney Todd on me like that!"
"He's angry and he's grieving. That's enough to push anyone over the edge - but this Howard we're dealing with. You should know better than anyone it's gonna take a while for his head to sort itself out again."
I nodded slowly, "How long do you think I should stay out of his way for?"
"A few days. A week is probably best. And when you do come back, don't expect everything to be perfect. Just 'cause I'm a shaman don't mean I can work miracles. Stay out of his way until he says he's ready to talk to you again."
I nodded again, the shaman bustling past me and into the hallway. Bollo was busy fluffing out some cushions. Mine, not Howard's. When finished, he huffed over to me and put a hand up onto my arm.
"Vince's new hair look good. Vince look like pretty lady who loves Rock n' Roll so much that she waste all her coins in jukebox." He said gruffly.
I smiled, giving his arm a grateful squeeze; "Thanks Bollo."
Bollo let me go and moved past me to follow Naboo. When he was gone I moved up to sit on the edge of Howard's bed as I had not too long ago. Before the fighting and the screaming. Everything that was just so alien and out-of-place in our magical little flat. I looked down at Howard, sleeping soundly at last, though I noticed his brow curved slightly. He still wasn't at peace. He wouldn't be for a while, I could tell. At that moment, I sent a private not-very-nice message up to Northeners Heaven and to Cree Moon. How could she do this to her brother? Didn't she think for a moment how this would affect him?
I put a hand onto Howard's head, again stroking through his curls. If it had been up to me then I'd've stayed in that spot for the rest of the day, watching over him. But I didn't fancy the idea of him waking up and kicking my teeth in. I bent my head down and left a chaste kiss on his forehead. "I've gotta go for a bit. Till you get a bit better yeah? I'll come back," I whispered, "Like I always do. I ain't gonna leave you like she did. I'll stay with you forever. I promise."
Naboo wandered back into the room. I leapt up off Howard's bed in a flash. The mini-Aladdin was carrying a steaming mug of beige liquid in his hands that he placed down on Howard's bedside table.
"What is that?" I asked while Naboo propped Howard's head up slightly before picking up the mug again to bring it to his lips.
"It's the same stuff I gave you when Howard was taken to monkey hell."
"Ah, yeah," I remembered. That stuff, whatever, was genius. Don't think I'd've coped in those dark few days if it hadn't been for Naboo. "What is it, some sort of calming, soul-centering, magic potion?"
"…Yeah, sort of." Naboo said blankly, carefully making Howard drink the contents of the mug in his sleep. The tense curve in his brow began to smooth out as he sipped.
Smelt a bit like Horlicks.
That's probably the longest chapter of garbage I've ever written. Woohoo! If you're not too drained from that then please give us a review. Yes. 'Us'. I am Golem.