3
At home, Matthew fell asleep right away once his head hit the pillow. He was real tired. I couldn't sleep, though, not a goddamn wink. I sat on this plastic chair on the balcony, smoking one, and staring across that field. There wasn't a concert today, so it was nice and quiet. For a change.
I felt kinda sick, too. My stomach was churning and my head hurt. I got this stupid idea that I was dying and so I lay there, ready for death, ready to tell Matthew to go on. I would send him to Uncle Francis, or the other Francis. God, I don't know why—so don't ask me—but I really trusted that guy. He was good, not a moron; real, not phony.
I must have smoked a billion cigarettes that night, 'cause the balcony was littered with dead cigarette butts and I stunk real bad. I didn't know what Matthew wanted to do. Maybe he would go visit one of his buddies. He wasn't real hot at school, popularity-wise, but he had a few friends. He said they weren't real friends, not all of them, except for this one super-smart kid named Yao or something, and this other kid I was sure got drunk every day. Matthew said his name's Gilbert and he's albino, real white hair and red eyes, and this really bony frame and all. He, Matthew I mean, said he's not a bad guy, he just got in trouble. He always got in trouble, 'cause he was real bored and lonesome. He was accused at, he always gets accused for everything that goes wrong, for getting too sexy with this girl and getting her knocked up. It wasn't his fault, Matthew swears, since he doesn't have much interest in anyone really, he's more focused on being himself and all. I don't know, but I'll believe Matthew. I've really got no other choice. There were a bunch of dark clouds bruising the morning sky, then, and I watched them chase away the morning light. The sun just barely got to peek over the edge of the sky when the clouds covered it up real fast. I could smell rain. Great, what a great way to start summer break. I went back in and found Matthew awake. He was brushing his teeth. He had the green end of the toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes were wide, and free of glasses. His hair was a bird's nest.
I walked over and ruffled his hair, picking up a razor to shave. I don't have a million hairs on my chin or anything, but I like to look neat. I started shaving, to give me something to do really more than anything. Matthew spat out a glob of white and rinsed his mouth real quickly. God, that kid kills me I swear. I pulled him into a hug suddenly, washing my chin. He smiled at me sadly, he can get into anyone's heart. I mean, anyone who's right in the mind and all. I let him go and he went to get his glasses on. He wouldn't be getting out of his pajamas at all today, since we were on break and all, until I told him to. I didn't have work so I guess I would just stay home.
I was contemplating all this when the phone starting screaming at me. I sighed and tried to get Matthew to shoot me a grin, but he wouldn't, then I really sighed, 'cause sometimes being funny backfires. Whenever you try to be funny and you ain't, you just look damn silly.
I got the phone and answered, I could hear Kiku on the other end. "Why are you callin' so early?" I asked, since it was still about five am and all.
"I'm sorry, but you're up, though." He replied, all nonchalant.
Well, he was right there, I was up.
"Look, whaddya want? For Chrissake, just get to the point." I made to be exasperated because he was really getting on my nerves. I mean, he wasn't no bad person, but anyone can get irksome when they try.
"I was thanking you for coming over, and I do believe I owe you an apology, America." He said.
"No need to get all high and might on me, Kiku, I ain't no America." I didn't know what that jab was supposed to mean, and that was getting me all hot.
'That's exactly what I'm trying to say goddammit, just listen!"
I felt real sore for making him feel bad, suddenly, so I held my mouth shut.
"Listen, Alfred, you aren't Alfred."
I was about to say something real snarky but he cut my off.
"Okay, you are Alfred and all, but that's not just who you are. You're America, the USA, the United States of America."
"Jokes up, man, I don't know what you're trying to get at, but it ain't workin'. Nobody has ever told another body that they're a goddamn country."
"Stop swearing."
"You swore too, don't cover it up."
"Listen, just listen for one clear moment," he was getting real mad, "I'm Japan, the Japan, the country in and of itself. There are some people who are the country, like personified versions of them, and I'm Japan. No, don't you hang up, loan me a goddamn ear for just a second, let me speak. You met the UK, France, North and South Italy, Spain, and Russia last night, and you're America and your little brother is Canada."
I was real baffled, smack-dab bamboozled that's what I was, so I let him keep talking. The poor loony guy hasn't any marbles left. Maybe he was an escapee from some insane asylum. Boy, didn't that make me all hot! I was getting kinda excited, talking to an escapee and all.
"I know it sounds crazy, but some accident happened that made you all forget it…"
He could tell he was losing me real quick.
"America… Alfred, do you ever sometimes remember something that you swear you've never experienced in your entire life?"
Boy, that struck me dumb. "Ummm, yeah, why?"
"That's your real memories, blocked out by that accident."
"What accident?"
"Some time ago you were ambushed during a meeting, a meeting that not France nor I nor the others you saw yesterday were present at. The only people there were you, Prussia, China, your brother, and some others. I don't know what the hell happened, the specifics are all messed up, but you and the others were placed where you are now with these false memories and no recollection of your past. If you can remember it, if you choose to, then you can be a nation again."
"Chrissake, what are you getting at? Nevermind, don't answer that. Instead, tell me why I should be this… Country you speak of."
"You're immortal until the very memory of your country is gone or something else happens, you get to see the whole world, you're a country."
"Sounds real stressful,"
"Yeah, but do you want to be one?"
"Hell no, not even if this was real."
"But is is-"
"Shut up, I said, SHUT UP AND LET ME TALK,"
"Don't holler—"
That's funny, I wasn't hollering. "Then let me finish," I said, all calm and suave.
He didn't say anything.
"Look, I don't want the stress of being a nation. I don't want to be immortal, I want to live a quiet life with Matthew until he's old enough to go to college or get a real nice job. Maybe I'll get married, maybe not, but I want to live my life normally,"
"Alfred," he said, softly. "Alfred, that's it… You can't."
"Whosta say what I can or cannot do?"
"Alfred, you don't get it. Open up your mind, and listen, just for a little bit. You will die. You aren't built to be a human. You'd die anyway, but you'll die real soon like that. It just doesn't work."
Boy, I felt real sick. My stomach started hurting and my head felt like it was being grounded into the floor. I didn't want to die. My palms were suddenly sweaty. I didn't mind dying just a few hours ago, but now. Boy, I don't know how to explain it—I'm no good with words, I flunked English—but I didn't want to kick the bucket anymore. I didn't want to die. I wanted to go on living with Matthew and find me someone to marry and raise a good family with, something I can be proud of. Something I could say, look you morons, look what I did. I was real scared. Matthew noticed and came up to me, he put his hand on me elbow and lowered the phone. I muttered a good-by to Kiku, saying that I didn't care, and hung up.
Matthew was dressed, nothing real formal, just his sweater and some pants. He didn't care too much for looks.
"Come on, let's go for a little walk."
"Kiku said we're, I'm…"
"I know, we're nations."
"How do you know?"
"I heard them talking in Italian about it."
"Since when do you know Italian?"
"I don't, it's real close to French."
"Where do you wanna go?"
"Dunno, how about we just see where the road takes us?"
"You know we're gonna go real soon."
"I know."
I didn't even have to say where we were going, he just knew. He just kills me. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, patting his shoulder. God, my thoughts were all so scattered.
"Come on, let's go."
Well that's it, it was a three-shot after all. It was real short and all, I'm sorry, and it might just be the last story I'll ever write. Mostly because I stink at writing... Anyway! I owe you a little explanation, the rest is up to you if you want to figure it out. Alfred does have an accent, as pointed out, something like Detroit or New York, sort of indefinable because he's all of America and should have a mix off all the accents. I imagined the brothers lived in New York, nothing too fancy like Manhattan, but around Brooklyn somewhere there. Thank you for reading!