chapter 20
It's amazing how quickly one can travel backward in their life. How one day you could be in a hospital room, ready to murder some man you don't know for harming a child you're not even related to, and then being alone and on your own with no one to care for you and no one to care for, to one afternoon finding yourself making an attempt on the life of a so-called shaman, barely held back by a puny, ragged teenager, whom you are not related to and have no true obligation toward, but are determined to keep safe, even if it means shoving them violently to the side and chasing the goddamn shaman to his little kiosk.
Howard Moon reached the small wooden kiosk by the time Naboo locked the door and closed his window. That didn't stop Howard from pounding on the fake camel, shouting all sorts of murderous promises and threats, all the while Vince was clinging to his back, gripping his shirt and pulling hard enough to cause the seams to stretch and tear.
"YOU LEFT HIM ALONE! YOU LEFT A FIFTEEN-YEAR-OLD KID ALONE IN A BLOODY FUCKIN' PUB!"
"Howard it wasn't like that, please calm down!"
Howard was beyond seeing red. He ignored the kid and tried to beat down the walls of the kiosk, determined to get in there and stuff each and every knick knack of Naboo's down his throat. Vince looked haggard and utterly exhausted, but he held tight to the taller man and pulled him away from the kiosk with surprising strength.
It had all started when Vince and Howard woke up that Sunday, almost exactly at the same time, around noon. Howard had been terribly worried over Vince, who looked paler than usual and seemed to shake and wobble all over as he stood and rushed to the toilet to puke.
Once he'd finished, groaning and sticking his head under the sink to rinse his mouth out, Howard gently pulled him to the couch once more and very nicely demanded that Vince tell him at least a little bit of what went on last night that put him in such a state. The kid had stared long and hard up at Howard before sighing and reluctantly telling Howard about how he had met Naboo's mates, a load of great people that called themselves the Board of Shaman. He smiled as he told Howard about how they went around helping people and going on adventures. Howard snorted derisively, which erased the smile from Vince's face.
After a moment more the boy finally revealed that Naboo and the others had passed around strange little tablets that they all slipped onto their tongues. Naboo had offered Vince one, assuring him that he didn't have to take it. Vince got quite shame-faced at this part in the story, admitting to how he didn't want to be the only person not taking one, and...perhaps, just perhaps, he had wanted to try it out.
"From then on it was a bit of a blur...and, I don't know, one minute I saw Naboo chattin' it up, the next...he was just gone."
Vince refused to tell any more, and so Howard had gone off on him, pacing around the room, stopping every so often to stand over Vince and gesture wildly like a deluded mime. Vince's eyes were glued to the floor, his hands gripping each other in his lap, twitching slightly every now and again. Eventually words came to Howard, and he began shouting loudly, not caring if anyone heard, words stuttered and intelligible at first.
"...S-so what, because a bunch of strangers are passing around drugs you go ahead and take one from people you don't even know, Vince!? Taking drugs is not something responsible adults do Vince. Where the hell've you ever seen normal people doing that shit?"
Here was the only time Vince looked back up at him, with a sardonic expression that made Howard realise how stupid that last sentence was. Of course the kid had grown up seeing people taking all kinds of substances. Hell, it was probably quite normal to him. Howard wilted slightly, and then tore off out the door, Vince following a second behind.
Even with the zoo closed, staff still had to show up in order to care for the animals, and though Naboo didn't have any charges to feed like the keepers, he still liked to come and lounge about the zoo grounds, chatting with the others and occasionally letting in 'friends', who all only stayed about an hour before scittering away back out the gates.
Sure enough, Naboo was standing in the middle of the zoo, talking with a keeper, when Howard stormed around the corner. He didn't pay the other man any mind, just looked Naboo right in the face, raising a hand to point aggressively at him.
"You! You absolute fucking tosser! I don't ever want you coming near Vince again!"
Vince stood beside Howard, out of breath and laying a shaky hand on Howard's arm, only to have it shoved off. Naboo glared back at the taller man, his voice coming out defensive and sharp.
"Oh step off, Moon, he's a big boy. He can choose who he hangs out wiv and what he does wiv his life!"
"Not when it involves meeting up with shady characters I don't even know and taking drugs, you unbelievable pillock!"
"Look, 'm not havin' this argument wiv you if you're jus' gonna insult me."
With that the shorter man turned and began calmly walking to his kiosk. He got a few metres away before Howard got over his stunned silence and exclaimed in a roar just exactly how he was going to make certain Naboo never had anything to do with Vince again. This caused Naboo to hasten his steps, as well as Vince to stop in his own tracks behind Howard.
The next thing Howard knew he was beating his fists heavily against the walls of the kiosk, not even aware of what he was shouting anymore. He'd never in his life felt so angry; he was honestly getting quite afraid that he wouldn't snap out of it. Distantly he felt the wind cause pieces of his shirt, which Vince had torn, to flap about. He also realised the boy had somehow wedged himself between Howard and the building wall, as if to push the taller man away. The kid was doing a shit job of it, and underneath his own shouts Howard could hear Vince yelling all kinds of excuses and pleads for Howard to back off. If only Howard could stop screaming.
"YOU PRESSURED HIM INTO TAKING DRUGS AND THEN YOU LEFT HIM ALONE AMONGST STRANGERS AND GOD-KNOWS-WHAT! I'M GOING TO HANG YOU BY YOUR TURBAN FABRIC, NABOO!"
Eventually, Howard stopped pounding away on the door and window of Naboo's hideout, his hands sore and red. The fact that his shirt was ruined finally clicked home in Howard's brain, setting off more sparks of fury. This was one of his nicest shirts; of course it bleeding well was! Everything that was nice and good had gone to shit! With no tiny mystic to lay his hands on, Howard's eyes landed on the boy who was still mashed up between himself and the wall. Howard quickly took a step back, and the boy leaned slightly forward, not looking up at the man who was still very much enraged. Howard's knuckles stung sharply as his hands flew about in mad gestures, kicking off and letting loose once again on the kid. Howard hadn't even known his voice could reach that high a pitch. There were points where no words even came out, just scratchy breaths, but still the man carried on.
"...HOW COULD YOU BE SO STUPID, VINCE? I MEAN SERIOUSLY! DO YOU WANT ME TO DEVELOP GREY HAIRS BEFORE MY TIME!? I'M TWENTY-FUCKING-FIVE, VINCE, I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE STANDING IN THE MIDDLE OF A ZOO SCREAMING AT A TEENAGER FOR PILL-POPPING UNTIL I'M AT LEAST FORTY! WHY WON'T YOU JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED! WHY!? YOU ALWAYS have to..."
Howard's voice faltered hoarsely. Vince was sitting on the ground, leaning against the kiosk wall. When had he got like that? The man crouched down to get a view of the boy's face, which was hidden by his hair. Vince didn't respond beyond pitching forward and covering the knees of Howard's trousers in stomach bile. Howard grimaced, trying not to be sick himself, and simply grabbed Vince up, placing one arm around his back and the other under his knees, carrying him back to the hut. Naboo was quite forgotten, for now.
Slamming the door shut with his foot, Howard rushed Vince to their beds, laying him down on the bottom one.
"Here, you need to rest some more. Are you still feeling nauseous?"
"No, no I'm alright. Sorry."
Vince's eyes remained closed and he shivered slightly, face pale. Howard put the back of his hand over Vince's forehead. No fever, but he was sweating quite a bit. Howard nudged him to get his attention, speaking in a quiet voice, rage completely on hold.
"Hey, Little Man, could you tell me why you're feeling this way? Did you take anything else beside the one tablet? How much did you have to drink? Vince?"
"...I don't remember..."
That was all the boy offered as he moaned and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face into Howard's pillow. Howard sighed. His knees felt cold. Oh, right. The older man draped his duvet over the boy before finding a clean pair of jeans and changed in the bathroom. That's when he discovered his knuckles were bleeding. Feeling more than a bit shaky himself, from his earlier display of no self-control, Howard cleaned his hands repeatedly in the sink. When he came back Vince was on his side, curled up into a tight ball, clutching Howard's blankets and breathing evenly.
Howard brushed the boy's fringe from his eyes, went into the kitchen to put the kettle on, and finally sat down with a plop on the couch to watch television. His skin still buzzed with his rage, shifting slowly beneath his skin like lava under molten rock. But his worry over the kid kept it from breaching the surface once more, and eventually Howard's own breathing slowed to a normal rate.
He allowed himself a few minute's peace with a warm cup of tea before heading out the Lodge door to quickly complete his day's tasks as well as the kid's, finishing in record time.
Light flakes of snow fell over the night sky as Howard stood in the shower, completely lost in thought. He felt so utterly done with everything that had transpired this past Sunday. Well, in just a few more hours it'll be Monday, and he'll put this whole thing behind him. The kid will never tell him all the things Howard wants to know, and killing Naboo would just result in his incarceration, so what was the point?
Suddenly there was a sound, coming from outside the bathroom. Howard instantly recognised it as Vince's voice, singing very softly. Howard immediately turned off the water taps in order to better listen.
"Hello little deer come home and stay..."
Dripping water along the floor, Howard wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door, coming to stand in the main room. Vince was now lying on his back, duvet thrown off, and was waving his arms slowly through the air, as if to some phantom rhythm or music that Howard couldn't hear.
"...Hello little deer come home and play with me..."
His eyes drifted down to Howard, and he grinned, continuing his song as Howard moved slowly to the dresser to retrieve his pajamas he'd forgotten to bring into the bathroom with him.
"...Hello little deer, I know this is wrong. Now it is dark, and the people have gone. I must try and trick you into getting in the boot of my car..."
A bit worried about the boy's current state of mind, Howard pulled on his bottoms up through the towel, not wanting to take his eyes off the kid. But Vince didn't continue singing. Instead, he hopped off the bed and moved toward his own dresser, digging about through the bottom drawer, before pulling out a small yellow keyboard. Howard was too surprised to say anything, and so just stood there as Vince moved to the sofa, playing a tune to match his strange and unnerving song.
"...Put on these corduroy slacks for me, you'll look better in the shorts I've ordered, you'll see. I'll integrate you in my society..."
Finally Howard had the mind to drop his towel, now fully clothed, and walked silently over to join Vince on the couch. Vince smiled up at him as he sang, voice rising slightly in volume.
"Now little deer you're alone with me; let's hope it's only sexually. I can't get involved with you emotionally."
Howard's brow drew downward. He was really worrying now for the boy's mental state of mind, and almost reached forward to check his forehead once again.
"Now that you're not a little baby deer; now that you've grown up, brutish and queer, get into my boot you stinking dirty whore!"
Vince shouted these last three words, punctuating them with finger smashes on the keyboard. Howard leant slightly away from him, as Vince grinned manically over at Howard. He slid sideways on the couch, eyes wide and slightly red around the edges. Howard found himself frozen, as the kid grinned wider and wider, his face coming closer and closer to Howard. Finally, the boy was right up against Howard, and all the paniced man could see were his teeth and crazed gaze.
Suddenly, Vince backed off to his end of the couch, and it took Howard a moment to realise he was laughing loudly. He threw the keyboard down on the space between them, gesturing at Howard and continuing to laugh.
"You should see yourself! Oh my god, Howard, you look like you thought I was gonna eat your face or somethin'!"
Howard wasn't sure how to respond. Vince hadn't snapped; he was playing a joke on Howard. The older man had honestly thought Vince had lost it.
"...We-well what was with the creepy song?"
"I made that thing up when I was little, Howard. Long before I ever met you. Just thought I'd sing somethin', the quiet was suffocatin' me."
Howard huffed, swatting the kid on the arm, which caused Vince to burst out laughing all over again.
"Well you didn't have to freak me out like that, yeah?"
"Alright, alright, sorry. Let's just say we're even now."
"Even? Even for what?"
Vince just continued smiling, picking up his keyboard and motioning for Howard to go retrieve his acoustic. Once the two of them were sat down, Vince got that look in his eye, and began playing nonsensical tunes, keys often not flowing. Howard didn't bother trying to play along, simply sat back and watched the kid.
After a few minutes, Vince looked up at Howard. The man noted that his skin was still too pale, and his eyes were indeed red. His fingers quivered and stuttered slightly on the keys; but he looked awake and aware, and not completely wrecked, like earlier.
"Let's make up a song together, alright? We'll have to make up a person to go with it; um...Give us a character, Howard. Anyone, just name 'em."
Howard fumbled about in his mind, spitting out a name before he'd even fully registered it, shivering a bit in the cold winter air, his hair still damp.
"Tony...Ice."
"Tony Ice! I like 'im. Tony Ice, the traveling hobo..."
"Wait what? Why's he have to be a hobo? Why can't he be a- a traveling archeologist, or something."
Vince tilted his head toward Howard, smile still in place, and began singing, fingers moving up and down the keyboard in a simple little tune.
"They call me Tony Ice, and I'm a travelin' hobo! C'mon, you do the rest, Howard."
Howard was still stuck on the hobo versus archeologist argument, but gave in with a smile of his own. It was only a song. He suddenly noticed the full moon through their back window. Vince, noting the older man's diverted attention, followed his gaze. He instantly pulled a face.
"Aw, Howard, don't. I hate the moon! He's always so creepy."
Howard's smile spread into a grin as he begun playing a tune of his own, matching Vince's.
"Oh yeah! I never worry, I never care. Just look on up, you know he's there!"
Vince was now slumped over the arm of the sofa, still playing his notes but looking like it pained him to do so. He dramatically groaned up at Howard. The man only strummed his strings louder, calling over to Vince in a sing-song voice.
"Come on, Vince, you're turn. Sing about the moon. Let me hear ya!"
Vince sat straight, gave Howard a death glare, and continued.
"Alabaster moon, won't you shine your filthy face down on me-"
"Woah woah, you can't call the moon's face filthy! Say, I don't know...say...say 'milky face', instead. C'mon!"
Vince pulled theatrical expressions as he sang the line once more.
"Alabaster moon won't you shine your milky face down on me?"
"There we go!"
"Alright, you win, no more moon songs, please."
Howard laughed quietly as they ended the song, fingers gliding to a halt. Vince tried to act angry, but was laughing quietly as well, slouching down as if exhausted, and Howard would've thought it another part of his act if the kid hadn't immediately yawned widely. Howard stood up, leaning his guitar against the couch, and plucked the kid's own instrument out of his hands and laid it on the cushions.
"Alright, Vince, it's getting late. We should go to sleep."
The kid must've still felt really out of it, because he didn't put up the slightest resistance, simply rose on unsteady feet and headed for the beds. Howard nervously trailed behind him, ready to catch the stumbling teen should he fall again. Vince made it to the beds on his own, though, peeling off his jeans and throwing them across the room before climbing up into his nest of pillows and blankets.
Howard lay down in his own bed, pulling the duvet over him. The incredible seesaw of emotional highs and lows today had gotten the better of him as well, and he was out before he could check his alarm clock.
(Ah yes, angry Howard strikes again. Vince is often painted as the 'crazy' one, especially in the tv series, but Howard's not infallible. The concept of his rage trouble is brought up subtly throughout The Mighty Boosh, and so of course I decided to put a spotlight on it. Please review, it makes me write faster!)