March 26, 2019 - 09:06 am
The buildings in the backstreet behind the 'kids lounge' rise like tall urban cliffs, blocking out the sky. The weather is not very hot today, and I pull my collar up to my chin. I couldn't find my purple scarf anywhere. The conversation with Luther left me deep in thought. But I decided this day must be a good one.
I even have a set of keys now, to the front door, the one with the umbrella stained glass windows. For the moment, I don't dare to use it just yet. Besides, the bus stop is more accessible from the back side of the Mansion. I take a few steps among the crates and old newspapers before coming to a stop. There, standing by the trash dumpster, Klaus is saying his goodbyes to a departing Five.
"I love you!", he shouts through the impasse to him. "Even if you can't love yourself!"
But his voice only dissipates in the vapors of district heating. I slip my hands into the pockets of my jacket and watch him spit out the dry, disgusting donut he picked up. And finally, I tell him:
"RuPaul is my favorite philosopher", I say.
Klaus nods, his eyes fixed on the end of the street.
"Me too. And Sartre".
I frown.
"Hey, that's my scarf".
"Oh, yes, it's yours. Thank you, by the way. It's shimmering, I love it".
Since it's now lying in the trash, I have little desire to retrieve it, so I abandon the idea without even trying.
"Where was Five going ?"
Leaning against the edge of the dumpster, Klaus removes a dry donut crumb from his teeth.
"Meritech ~again~. You know, just a bit of light-spying on a million dollar company. To prevent an apocalypse. Nothing unusual".
I give a nervous laugh. The energy Five is putting into this glass-eye trail convinces me that there may be a serious threat out there. However, his patience truly amazes me.
"Is he going to wait that the eye is manufactured, hidden in that van? How will he know ? The eye will probably be sent away like many others, in little boxes packed in a delivery truck... or something similar. What is he expecting to happen?"
Klaus opens his two palms towards the sky, both 'Hello' and 'Goodbye', as a sign of confusion.
"You know Five by now. He's an unpredictable loose cannon. But he rarely does things without a good reason".
He bends down and digs in the trash for a moment before resurfacing and saying to me from amidst the stench:
"If nothing happens, he'll probably go see our friend Lance again".
My lips purse. 'Lance' is going to be super happy.
"You'll have to wear your father's blue suit again, then", I say, but he instantly objects:
"No".
"Come on, 'you're born naked and the rest is drag'".
Klaus laughs at those RuPaul words once more, but then he climbs back up the dumpster wall and points his index finger at me.
"Wearing Regie's suit again is a definite no. I'd rather die".
"Even for an extra 20 bucks? I know Five finally paid you".
I could ask for a refund for the lunch, but I won't. Klaus shrugs.
"He no longer wants my services. He doesn't know what he's missing".
And as he talks, he lifts a large garbage bag which he throws at the other end of the dumpster. I'm pleased that - finally - he decided to look for his father's notebook. It took 24 hours, but better late than never. Luckily, the garbage collectors haven't come yet. I ask:
"So ? Is your scavenging fruitful?"
Klaus balks and he finally meets my gaze.
"Uh no... and Pogo lectured me ~again~".
Klaus resumes his search and disappears from my view into the dumpster.
"I've found old beer cans, sticky peanut butter jars, empty boxes of frozen waffles - oh these are ours -, rat carcasses, like a dozen eggboxes... but no trace of this damn notebook".
He sighs in frustration and I smirk.
"You will have to search deeper I'm afraid".
"Ugh, alright".
He lets out a loud groan, tucks the ends of 'my scarf' into his pants, rolls up his sleeves... and then proceeds to plunge both arms into the garbage bags, methodically shifting them to the other side of the dumpster. Critique Klaus however you like, but he usually gives his best, even if it takes him a while to get started. The smell is horrible now but that doesn't stop him.
"Where is this fucking book?", he interjects, just before completing rolling his eyes : "Oh Ben it's funny, very funny. Shut up".
I laugh quietly, because I suspect what Ben just answered. But suddenly, Klaus freezes, staring into the bin.
"Hold on", he says, pulling out a black book from a pile of banana peels.
"Is this it?"
He flips through the pages to check, and as I take a closer look, I realize it's the complete 2018 Playboy compilation, slightly nibbled by rats. He throws it further.
"Thanks for that, dad... Or maybe it's Pogo's..."
Neither brings pleasant thoughts and I laugh softly while looking at my watch. Klaus takes a deep breath, then disappears again and rummages around.
"I would have helped you", I say, "but I have to go to work, I can't stink".
I hear him moving more trash bags, and eventually he stands back up and looks at me pathetically over the metallic edge of the container.
"There's no need. I'm just wasting my time, no kidding", he laments. "Besides, Ben wants to go see the ocean".
He gazes in the direction of the empty fire escape staircase and sighs.
"In his opinion, we're screwed with this notebook: it's not here anymore".
I sigh.
"Yeah I'm afraid so. Good morning, Ben".
Unfortunately, I'm starting to have a bad feeling as well. I can see that Klaus returned all the trash and found nothing. I scan the ground, just in case someone tossed the book out onto the street from the bin, but found nothing. The notebook could be anywhere now.
"We have to admit it's not there", I concede. "Maybe you could ask all the homeless people around the block about it? They might have taken it. You know almost all of them by name. Bring them some coffee and chips, and ask them?"
Many of them go dumpster-diving on this rich backstreet. However, in this case, it's possible that Reginald Hargreeves' notes have already been used for lighting a brazier or packing corndogs. Klaus climbs out of the trash bin and brushes the dirt off his clothes, taking my scarf out of his pants and straightening it diligently. He doesn't seem to realize that the smell is much worse than what meets the eye.
"Pogo is going to stuff me like one of the trophies in the hallway," he sighs with a hint of guilt for the first time, and I shake my head.
"I don't think he still has much hope about you finding it, Klaus. No offense".
This comment could overwhelm Klaus, but paradoxically, it seems to bring him relief. When nothing is expected of him, he always tends to feel better. Then, a thought occurs to him, and his eyes widen as if the best idea came to his twisted mind.
"Rin... I just had ~an epiphany~".
This kind of sentence scares me the most, second only to bedbugs. And unfortunately, from the luminous expression that comes to Klaus, I think I can guess what he is about to ask.
"Oh, no no. You're not going to ask me to-"
"Can you talk to Pogo?"
"Damn it, I knew it".
"Yes! He won't take me seriously, no one ever does. But if you tell him that I did my best, he will listen to you! Tell him I'm still searching with people in the neighborhood..."
I let out a deep sigh of despair.
"Klaus, it was ~your mistake~, not mine. I cannot always be the one saving your ass".
I'm not even sure I would turn Pogo softer, but Klaus gives me an imploring and over-pitiful gaze, with his best acting skills:
"I'm just not emotionally ready for that", he says.
"Above all, you are a clever puss-in-boots-looking bastard".
I look at my watch again: I'm not sure I'll have time to pick up the mail at the post office before opening the store. I don't want to take the risk of being late for work. My boss has already been very patient with me since I've been sleeping at Hargreeves Mansion.
"So is that a yes?" Klaus asks with a hopeful tone.
"I'll try to talk to Pogo. It's not a promise".
He chuckles, clapping his hands together.
"You're the best! I don't know what I'd do without you, Rin."
"You'd be the same but worse".
"I'll thank you with a cool gift. What do you want?"
"Nothing".
"My sequin jacket? My verbena bath salts? Meeting David Bowie?"
I laugh hard, taking a step to leave.
"Come on if you were able to summon David Bowie, you would spend all your days with him and not me anymore. Besides, you're still too high to try".
"Fair enough. Okay, I'll bring you some chips, and Attack of the Killer Tomatoes awaits us".
I laugh again, with a somewhat affectionate smile. I can hear Klaus's stomach growl, and he discreetly puts his hand there, under the scarf, as if that could calm his hunger. I noticed that - lately - he's all the time hungry. I raise a wary eyebrow, and he admits:
"Lately, I have been starving all the time. It's always like that when I work towards the prickly arms of sobriety. Whether you believe it or not, I am putting in effort".
I cross my arms and give him a preemptive apologetic look.
"Klaus, seriously... please don't show up for lunch today. I have to work, otherwise Rodrigo will end up firing me. I'll come back at the end of the afternoon".
Disappointed, he looks towards the spot where Five disappeared, realizing that I am about to leave too.
"Alright. I'm going to question everyone around the block, then. Fingers crossed!".
I start walking down the small street towards the bus stop. Without looking back at him, I retort:
"Uncross your fingers and get them out your arse!"
He chuckles behind me once more. I do the same. And as I depart, I hear him shout to me with an amused sarcasm:
"Sashay away!"
Notes:
This chapter was really fun to write, and I thank the showrunners for opening the door to RuPaul references. A funny scene, before a probably more serious conversation with Pogo...
Any comment will make my day!