Lies' Legs

I was reading 'The importance of being Earnest' which is what must have immediately triggered his question.

"Ever pondered on the importance of names?"

The sun was about to set, but it still had a few more minutes under our sight. I covered my nose and mouth with my scarf.

"More often than you think."
"Hm."

After a few pages and giggles, I remembered he'd mentioned something. I turned to him. I was hoping his question would lead to one of our old debates, but he dropped the topic altogether. He no longer wished to pursue that question. Or any question for that matter.

He'd often ask questions without looking for answers. He'd also give answers without explaining what questions they were replying. He'd laugh. A lot. He'd also become more aggressive.

Back in Argentina I used to have this great aunt that had started to lose her memory. At first I thought she was being funny, but when somebody asks you nine times in ten minutes where your mother is... Iiiiit gets suspicious. As it progressed, though, it wasn't only her memory that went and came. Her personality as a whole was compromised by it, as well as her personal relationships with my family or her friends. It was kinda hard to watch.

While B wasn't actually losing his memory, it was something about his behavior that reminded me just about her, even when I still could not completely understand what was going on. It felt like watching somebody die.

"B, are you dying?" I asked him one morning, appealing to his conduct's strangeness.

He laughed out loud, as if aware of some ironic behavior or mistake invisible to my comprehension.

"No, A, I am not dying..." He replied understanding why I'd ask. But then, upon actual pondering he found it necessary to correct himself: "Or maybe I am. It's quite funny, isn't it?"
"What is?"

Pardon my lack of amusement.

He just sighed smilingly in a manner that said 'But of course. You wouldn't understand.'

A bit unconsciously, I snapped back from my thoughts and purposely dropped my book off the rooftop. We watched it fall slowly before its flight met its death.

"Sitting here is dangerous." He remarked uneasy, his coffee sipping manners untouched by his slight nervousness.

I looked at him and, internally shaking my head, went back to looking at the book I'd thrown. I'd sent a book flying and all he cared to notice was how sitting on the roof was dangerous. I went back to staring at him. He avoided my eyes.

"Joseph Library is gonna give me a hard time for that."

I named people after their jobs when I didn't know their last-names. There was also Mary Gardener, Jane Kitchen, Cecily Kitchen, Philip Creepymidnightdogwalker, etc.

"I think letting a book accidentally slip from your hands is not the biggest sin you have to worry for right now."

I'd been taking the blame for B's shenanigans for the past years.

"I don't know how much longer I'll be able to keep up with that." I said indistinctly.
"You've been saying that for a while now." He mentioned. He didn't seem too preoccupied.

I breathed in, thoughtfully.

"No, that's not what I mean." I replied. I couldn't hear my own voice too clearly, despite the fact that I knew it was perfectly audible. The skies darkening and the temperature lowering seemed to be concentrating at least 78% of my focus. I played with my palms to keep them warm "I've said lie after lie. I'm not a fan of cliches, but lies have short legs. It is only a question of time for them to notice that something just does not fit the picture. I mean, they're training detectives. I'd be a bit disappointed if they didn't."

He nodded slightly.

"You're a good liar."
"Is that good or bad?"
He shrugged. It was what it was.

"Are you worried?"

I sighed.

"For a genius you sure make a lot of stupid questions." I replied a bit upset.

He giggled. I was not amused.

"I think you need help." I chuckled without a hint of finding things funny "I think that something very bad is going to happen to you, and I think it will be entirely my fault for not reporting this to anybody. I should have done it. I should do it. I should get down and do it now. At times you really manage to convince me that you've literally lost all contact with reality... And then you come back again." I shook my head.

That was it. The psychotic part. That's what reminded me of 'auntie María'.

"Hm. Yes. Seeing it like this, maybe it will be your fault."

My brain stopped working.
Reboot? Y/N.
Y.
There was an emergency shutdown. Please wait while A's brain is loading.
Done 100%

I turned to him. We gazed at each other.
Shaking my head again, I stood up to climb down.

"Are you gonna tell the truth?" He inquired, obviously not interested about the results. He knew I wouldn't anyway.
"Fuck you." Talking to B was like talking to a mentally disturbed rock.

Sadly for me, if I meant to keep his behavior a secret, that meant I was responsible for him. As much as I would've wanted to, I couldn't really indulge my desire to ignore him and stay out of his way. I had to monitor his every activity.

"Good morning." He'd lower the newspaper when I came down to have breakfast.

I'd just eat quietly.

He'd then proceed to read the newspaper for me and inquire my opinion about the articles. Offended, I wouldn't reply even when I actually found them interesting. On the other hand, that sort of childish mockery gave me some form tranquility. It meant I was dealing with B's Jekyll.

"Ah... Another man got killed last night." He began to narrate an article with sarcastic pleasure. Or was it sarcastic? I didn't know. I didn't care. "Would you look at that... Who do you think killed him?"

Colonel Mustard in the music room with the candlestick.

"What is it? Is there some Clue-related joke that you want to make?"

He was just twisting the knife, man.

"No?" He sighed "Too bad. I think it would have been most witty." He started to search the newspaper for something that would catch my attention "Oh, hey, look at this..."

I betrayed my anger by returning a look of curiosity at him, which I immediately drew back to my cereal.

"They've released 'Snatch' last week! Wasn't this one the one you wanted to watch so badly..?"

I looked at the garden. Yes. Yes, B. That was the one.

And then, on that fourth day of that same routine, I broke down.

"I need to tell them B." I sighed, looking at him "I think this time my decision is final."

He looked into my eyes, taking things more seriously.
He took my hand between his. The fingers were cold. I fought the urge to draw my hand back, feeling it would have been useless to try.

"I know." He said, his calamity dissolving "I know, just..." He looked over my head, distracted by his thoughts "Give me some time, yes? I promise you everything will be fine again. I will tell Watari everything." He sounded a bit desperate or strange, but not lying-strange.

I had my doubts. The way I had covered for him... I was gonna get a big share of face kicks from both Roger and Watari. But it wasn't me that I was concerned the most about. Guilt had had me wishing to get kicked in the face for a long time. But B on the other side... When they learnt that every near implausible 'accident' of mine was actually product of B's inexplicable psychotic breaks they'd... They'd get him help. That was the most important thing, I thought... But it left me thinking, you know? Would that help part our ways? That was, would he still be under the Wammy's House's care? What if they didn't think him fit anymore? What if it wasn't good for him?

I didn't want to lose another friend.

'I think this time my decision is final' My own words came back to mind.
If i wanted to be of help at all, I had to cut the crap.

"H.. How much time?" I asked, doubtful.

He cracked a nervous grin.
"Not so much."

I wondered who looked the most preoccupied from us.