Chapter Three – Winner's Red.
Kyle tugs at an icicle from the top of his doorway, encasing it with green, gloved fingers and snapping it at the centre. It has formed overnight, and Kyle finds himself clipping them almost each morning. Although most days he discards them immediately in the plant pot next to his door, today he rolls it over with his fingers, feeling the ice spread through the fabric of his gloves and stick to the fibres; creating a crackling noise.
He supposes he is doing this to waste time; he feels somewhat silly spending his day off in a dingy arcade with someone who he doesn't know very well. Yet, he promised, and Kyle is one to keep his promises. He turns his palm down and lets gravity pull the icicle away from his gloves, watching it fall and shatter in front of his feet. He steps over it, thinking about its fragility as he wanders towards the town. His walk takes about 20 minutes, and his mind swiftly switches to his phone call with Ike last night and how they didn't talk about anything, but the new Final Fantasy game Ike is desperately waiting for. He notices that Kip is early again and almost wants to gallop towards him in hope that it'll reduce the frost bite he feels gnawing onto his fingers from his wet gloves.
"You're early." He greets, voice vibrant and cheery.
"I couldn't help it, I live close." Kip replies, mirroring Kyle's smile and tone.
They enter the arcade, and Kyle is stunned by the amount of remodelling the arcade has been through, he remembers the grimy smell of urine and the whitewashed walls with scribblings over them. A wistful wave of remembrance for when he and his friends would waste all their pocket money here; feeding the money converter dollar bills to receive cents instead and scavenging around to see if any uncollected money lay about in the gutters of games. They would take turns fighting pixilated zombies on dusty game screens with uncleaned controllers, desperate to see who would win so they could gain bragging rights. Kyle grew up playing casino games with them here, prohibited to those under 18 but they were never told to move when they fed the machine money only to never receive any back. He remembers the red carpet, matted with chewing gum and dirt. It had slowly washed from its vibrant red, to a dull dusty tone.
Now, flashing neon lights draw children towards each game, the walls blue and the floor and deep grey colour, clean and fresh. Each game is laid in rows, unlike the maze which it was before. Kyle almost feels disheartened and dejected, he feels his childhood being swept away like dust. He had almost forgotten things change and evolve, that nothing lasts for ever. The arcade offers food and there are no longer prizes or tickets. A feeling of acceptance washes over him, his memories aren't being thrown out with the flooring, because they are engraved in the walls, in his heart. He feels them locked tightly between his lungs, for him to remember.
"What?" Kip asks, looking at Kyle.
"Nothing, it's just so different to how it used to be."
"Ah, I remember, it used to be gross here." He glides forwards, eyeing a grabbing machine and the fluffy, small orange toys inside. Kip looks completely different, both in demeanour and dress. His hair is tied back into a rushed ponytail, small strands at the front already breaking loose to fall back over his face. He seems to be smiling more, exiting his shell and exploring the roses, the initial fear was over – they were becoming friends.
They explore the arcade, coming across old games and enjoying them. Kyle feels somewhat out of place. He recognises that he and Kip are the only adults in there without kids, but Kyle tries to not let it faze him. He can almost sense Kip's mental fragility, so he removes any underlying doubts he harbours and conquers any fears too. He is out because he promised Kip a good day.
Kyle finds the revamped version of his old favourite game, he peers causally whilst watching two teenagers press the attached plastic guns to the shoulders and blast a zombie head's off.
"Do you want to play on that?" Kip asks, following Kyle's gaze towards the game.
"Nah, let them be. They kind of remind me of me and Stan when we were younger." He comments offhandedly, pushing his hands into his coat pockets and absently gripping his phone. "It's cute."
"Yeah, this place it a real nostalgic trip, huh." Kip agrees, "I left South Park quite young, but this place always remained so vivid in my memory. I was here so often."
"Really? Me too. I never remember seeing you though."
"I saw you a few times, actually. You four always looked so strange but so in synced. It was a peculiar sight."
"Oh?" Kyle questions.
"Well, you are and the big guy- Eric, uh Carton?-"
"Cartman?"
"-Yeah, you two would be arguing or fighting or playing out a bet, sometimes just the two of you, sometimes all four of ya, you'd split into teams of two and it'd always be you and Stan I noticed, which is funny seeing how you ended up with Kenny."
"Yeah, I guess I do swing for the other team in some respects." He giggles, oblivious to Kip's knowledgeable daze and the way he seems to dream out his thoughts before he tells them to Kyle.
"Where is Stan?" Kip asks abruptly, his eyebrows drawn tightly together only to undo just as fast. "Uh, I mean- I don't think I've seen him around, and I've been back for about two weeks and um…"
"He's just finishing college. He lives with Wendy; they go to the same one and they've got a kid. I haven't seen her yet though, she's only a few months old and they're all the way out in Pennsylvania so I barely see him anymore."
"Oh, what are they studying?"
"Wendy's doing something along the economic front, and I think Stan is doing marketing."
"Don't you want to go to University?"
"My little brothers already at university, and my parents can't afford to also send me, and I can't currently afford to pay for myself. I know I'll go someday, just not right now."
"You got any ideas on what you'd like to do?"
"Um… some. Another reason why I'm not to bothered at the moment is because I'm not entirely sure on what I'd like to do if I went, I don't know if I'd want to look into law, or do some social study thing to therapize people."
"Hm. You'd be good at that I think, helping people." Kip acknowledges, nodding his head. His eyes return to the grabbing machine and how he's perfectly centred over the orange, plain teddy. His eyebrows begin to knit together again as he lets the machine reach down and pluck the toy from the heap, it slips almost out from the grabber's grasp, however, manages to reach the drop off before falling. "I did it." Kip cheers to himself. "Finally!"
"Congrats!" He smiles, enjoying the gleam in Kip's eyes and the way he darts hurriedly to retrieve his prize.
"Here, you have it." He says as he begins standing, leering the toy towards Kyle and waiting dolefully for him to accept it. His voice is crackly and unsure, yet he holds a defensive stance when Kyle tries to push the toy back towards him.
"I can't," he murmurs passively. "You keep it."
"Please." Kip pushes is a solemn, needy tone. "Just take it."
Kyle sighs as he accepts it, only nodding as a way of giving in, but it's enough to cause Kip to smile broadly. Now Kyle feels really silly, accepting toys from almost strangers and watching Kip's awkward, childish display. Even with just a year between them, Kyle feels so much older and wiser, Kip seems socially undeveloped; he can't respond to Kyle's profound comments and there isn't a breadth of things for them to talk about, but still – there's a sweetness to it all; a simplicity. Kip seems to jitter impatiently when there is silence between the two of them and Kyle wonders what Kip could be thinking of, could it be of Kyle himself, the arcade? The fact that other than small talk they haven't had a proper, extensive conversation?
Kip stills, turning towards an old Pac-rat machine and ogling it with despair and longing, he gulps and turns away from it, his eyes barely leaving the banged-up machine until he's fully facing Kyle.
"Dude what was that?"
"What?"
"You just looked like you were about to cry, you ok?"
"Uh, yeah." He starts, rubbing his neck and starring at the floor, hoping it will rise into a slimy mud monster and whisper to Kyle why instead of Kip having to do it directly. "My father used to take me here a lot before I left, he used to get so engrossed in that game." Pausing, he chuckles; "It's funny, I'd be the one pulling him away from this shitty thing. It fucking sucks seeing the damn thing still here." He jokes, glancing at it again and nudging it with his foot.
"I don't even understand what this game is?"
"It's a knock off of Pacman. Dad was like the 4th best player on this or something. I'm sure his name was on the high score list."
"Sweet. Wanna check if he's still there?"
"Nah, I might cry. I miss 'em." He chuckles sadly, turning his back to the game and continuing towards the change converter.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"No, it was my fault, I caused it. I was kind of hoping they'd throw this away though."
Kyle can only hum in reply, unsure of what to say and how to say it. He feels incredibly tense like his lungs are being filled with honey which are causing him to focus only on his deep breaths. Kip spares the machine one more distasteful glance before exiting the arcade. The air outside is exceedingly thin and it doesn't help Kyle's honey filled chest. They plunder towards the diner opposite, neither trying to spark a conversation.
It was my fault anyway. What was? That Kip brought him here, that he saw the machine? What? Kyle ponders Kip's words, his sorrowful demeaning posture, the way he hinted at something a little darker and out of reach then Kyle could imagine. What had kip caused? Why is Kyle so drawn to the mystery that obscures him like a foggy, grey mist? Unclear whether it's good or bad, poisonous or not. Kyle is intrigued by Kip's unintentionally dark aura and why he can't seem to deem himself neither safe nor scared. He wants to figure out why Kip acts the way he does and why he was left, where he went and why he came back. Kyle wants to know why Kip plucked him from the masses and why he is so guarded in letting his motives slip.
.
Kyle sits pressed against the arm of his sofa; feet tucked under Kenny's thigh who sits resting against the other side playing video games – some horrific, violent gun game. Kenny plots out each step, flinching when incoming enemies surprise him and adorably twitching his entire body with the remote to dodge them. His tongue is out, and his back is hunched forward in a concentrated, fixed pose. He mumbles to himself and either swears in defeat or triumph and Kyle's eyes are fixed solely onto him.
He rests with his phone pressed to his ear, absently listening to Stan mutter about Christmas and how it will be his and his baby daughter's – Alice – first Christmas. Stan had mentioned barely months before that he and Wendy we're expecting a baby girl, much to Kenny's and Kyle's delight surprise when Kenny was to be announced God Father and Kyle an 'Uncle'.
"How's she keeping you?" He asks, as the conversation begins to dry.
"I don't know how to sleep anymore, but I think we're doing pretty well." Stan returns, sighing sweetly into the speaker. "Alice doesn't cry as much during the day anymore, only when we leave her for a long while – Wendy's thinking of moving her crib into our room, but I want her to learn to sleep by herself."
"It'd be more difficult later if you were to move it now." He agrees, tucking his feet further under Kenny's thighs.
"Exactly!" Stan jeers, Kyle imagines him swinging his hand in front of him in appreciation, perhaps waving a beer, but Kyle doubts he even drinks anything like that anymore. "Hey, Weds! Kyle agrees with me about the crib!" He calls distantly and Kyle distorts his face to chuckle, hearing her reply with a "Fuck off, Stan."
"Don't bring me into it!" He moans after Stan returns to the phone, smiling out his words, "Wendy scares me dude."
Stan liberates a deep, hearty chuckle that ruptures from his belly and leaves from his throat. "Speaking of Wendy – we're coming back to South Park!"
"What?!" Kyle gargles of the sudden statement, hurling himself forward rigidly trying to steadily comprehend Stan – who Kyle hasn't seen since his birthday in May. "For how long?" He asks excitedly, catching Kenny's attention who pauses his mission to turn to him.
"Stan's coming home." He mouths to Kenny, who reacts similarly, dropping his mouth open whilst raising his eyebrows. They're both so excited, Kenny moves his hands like he wants to take the phone from him, but Kyle nudges it away with his elbow, creasing his eyebrows towards Kenny as he listens to Stan speak.
"Only over Christmas, we'll be staying in her family's home until term starts again."
"Stan! I can't wait to see you- and little Alice too!" Kyle adds, smiling adorably at Kenny whilst he talks, suddenly overcome with his own plans for Christmas and Hanukkah, his parents and Ike will probably return home too, forcing Kyle out of his home into Kenny's or for him to spend some quality time with his family, alone.
"Give him to me." Kenny pleads, so Kyle says his goodbyes and hands the phone over, watching Kenny's face as he talks to Stan. Kenny is one of those people who will nod over the phone without realising and shake his hands about when explaining in hopes that it'll transfer through the phone. He peers at how Kenny is sitting almost facing him, his heterochromia eyes peering through grinning slits at Kyle and how when the excitement fades, his free hand travels to entwine with Kyle's fingers and he lets Kyle run his thumb over his own.