Solitaire Game

Boy Blown Over the Cuckoos Nest

Chapter Two
Boy Blown Over the Cuckoo’s Nest


Lethargy: (noun) A state of sluggishness, inactivity, and apathy.- OED

<Matt. Re: Angry Hat Party?>
Heyyy Davie!!!
Sorry I’ve not replied in a while, or managed to get onto msn or skype or any of that stuff as of late. Things have been really chaotic. My uncle was around, and he decided to take me and my sister off for the day, which as you can imagine didn’t go down so well with my stepdad. But yahhhh we went to this really nice restaurant called The Conservatory at this AMAZING old manor that’s been turned into a hotel. It was amazing, really amazing - I don’t think I’ve ever been anywhere quite like it before cos it was kind of posh and stuff. I knew I probably looked kinda strange there, because my uncle was in linen trousers and Ralph Lauren and all that, and my sister was wearing a really pretty dress that her godmother designed and then there was me in my usual tatty shoes and jeans.Thank God I was wearing a shirt - not a tacky t-shirt - but that was just LUCK cos all my t-shirts were in the wash.

But yeah, there was that and then when we got back he took my mother to one side and said that he was going to continue paying for our education because he didn’t want to see us ruined. So that really got her upset and she was crying, I mean she’s like that a lot and I know I’ve told you this before... Anywhoodle, she was upset and my uncle was really dismissive. I think he doesn’t quite understand what his brother saw in mum. I don’t know that I do either anymore, she’s not the same person these days.

And yeah, so then she begged him for some money for the house expenses - which she always asks for when she sees him - and he, as usual, said no because he believes that she needs to get off the sofa and out of the salons and into work. Then she did something really stupid and said that my step-dad’d asked if he’d let her have access to the money that dad put aside for me and my sister when we come of age. Well he was furious and told my mother that he was sure that she’d like access to the money because she was a failure of a mother, a failure of a wife and a failure as a woman. He said that he’d always wondered why dad entrusted our money to his brother and not to his wife, but now he knew. Then he left. Which was really bad because it meant that mum had a tantrum and spent the rest of the day weeping on the sofa watching soaps and stuff.

My stepdad was furious, too and ranted for hours at mum and me. I made sure that Harri was safe in our room and didn’t have to put up with him. So anyway, mystepdad told me that I’d have to go get a job if I wanted to stick around and since I’m not even sixteen yet I didn’t really have a choice tbh. So I’m now working weekends with a market-man who seems really nice. He sells all sorts from cheeses to nuts and fruit and cold smoked meats and stuff. So yeah, that’s why it’s been since Friday.

Miss talking to you Davie and hope to hear from you soon.
Matt

*

David woke up several times in the night because he heard noises - noises that he was sure came from the huddled form in the bed. Matt was wrapped around himself in a tiny, curled foetal, as if he was trying to hide from the cold. Whenever David looked up to see if it was the Englishman though, there was silence, only small huffs of breath from the sleeping boy. It had been disconcerting, but he knew that noises could drive you mad all night when they were like that. That was pretty much the case until nearly four a.m., when David finally managed to turn his brain off for several hours of restless sleep.

He dreamed as he slept; seeing Matt’s look of alarm when he’d touched his face in the car and the frail, childlike youth that had emerged, sleepy and starving from the bathroom that evening.He felt uncomfortable. He’d reach out to the boy in the dream but Matt would shake his head and step away, clutching at the Blackberry and saying: You’re not the one I’m looking for. Then the dream became a long quest - searching for something, for someone in the midst of all the chaos of a subconscious New York hell. Everywhere he turned, there was some obstacle obscuring the route - from dead ends to busboys to taxis packed across the roads. His home became a labyrinth, and it was only when he woke up that he realized that somewhere in his dream, he’d lost Matt yet again.

Usually, David wasn’t a dreamer or the sort of person who tossed and turned. Usually, he was simply able to become dead to the world. Usually, he slept and when he woke, it was morning. He never shot up in bed thinking that he’d heard a small, mewling cry from a roommate or dreamt about things that weren’t a little more... desirable. He just didn’t have nightmares. The whole thing was baffling.

Deciding that lying in bed thinking about his discomfort was probably more counter-productive to rest than anything else, he gave up. He finally extricated himself from the coverlet, checking that he hadn’t disturbed his sleeping visitor and padding out the door. Shuffling to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, he blinked away itchy morning eyes. ,

The kitchen was a small, cosy affair, much like everything in the apartment. A small table big enough for four to squeeze around was tucked into the right hand side, and a long countertop lined the left hand wall. It was painted bright yellow with a blue ceiling and white, fluffy clouds daubed over it. He remembered helping Millie with the painting, and he smiled slightly at the memories. Many of those same memories were taped to the walls or held onto the fridge with smiley-face magnets. There was a photo of him and Millie covered in blue and yellow paint, arms slung around each other’s shoulders. The next photo was of them attacking each other with paint brushes. The next photo after that included a decidedly clean-looking Bryson. Then there were dozens of photo-booth strips lined up and down the sides of the fridge.

David grinned as each photo booth snapshot showed different faces; Stephan and Millie in the booth smiling, then kissing, then being interrupted by Bryson, then the three of them squishing around for the front of photo. Then he had apparently jumped in with one of his face right up close and then one of them all together in a mess of limbs and grins.

God, he’d missed them all.

“Feeling all nostalgic, babes?” Millie’s voice made him jump. He turned to see her in the door. She was rumpled with sleep, hair at all angles and over-large t-shirt (that he supposed was Stephen’s originally) creased and crumpled.

“Just a little bit. Did I wake you?”

“Naw, I just was too excited that you were here again to stay asleep, so when I thought I heard you get up...” She smiled widely, “I missed you Davey-babes.”

“Yeah, I missed you guys, too. It’d been too long, you know.”

“Months and months. You’re making tea?”

“Coffee.”

“Make me a tea while you’re at it. Everything’s in the same place.”

She scratched her head and then tousled her hair out of habit before yawning and settling into one of the chairs. Watching him out of one eye, she smiled again at the familiarity of his movements around the kitchen. She puttered, but he did everything like he was on a mission, with this look of deep concentration between his brows and a slight twist of his mouth. She giggled, causing him to look up, again startled. She shook her head and waved her hand to explain it away, but his confused expression remained as he flicked the kettle on and dropped both filter coffee and a teabag into respective cups.

“So why are you awake?” she asked after a moment of comfortable silence. “He doesn’t snore, does he?”

“No!” David let out a small laugh at how random the suggestion was. “No, no, I just wasn’t sleeping properly. Probably something to do with that camper bed.”

“Oh, ha ha. You know I slept on that thing for months when we were trying to find this place. It’s perfectly comfortable.”

“For a tiny weeny girl like you, not a big macho guy like me,” he said, dropping his voice to a heavy baritone as he mocked her.

She snickered, “Whatever. Why are you awake Mr. I-Can-Sleep-hrough-the-LIVE-Performance-of-Green-Day?”

“Hey, that was one time, and you know I wasn’t into them.”

“But Bryson was! That was so funny!”

They both laughed and he shrugged, looking sheepish, “Yeah, yeah.”

“So?”

“I just was restless. Genuinely. Couldn’t switch off. Couldn’t sleep.”

She sat quietly, wondering if she could ask if David couldn’t sleep because of Matt’s appearance, but decided that it was too early to go into personal, psychological readings of her friend’s psyche. David probably wouldn’t appreciate it. Having known him so long, she knew that if he wasn’t willing to talk about something, it just meant he wasn’t ready to discuss it. She would wait, because she was sure she was right, of course. So instead, she demanded that he pass her the tea and proceeded to talk nonsense whilst he smiled and laughed and nodded, the cloud of questions disappearing from his face as they talked.

*

Matt shivered in the sheets, trembles twitching through him like a wind buffeting a forlorn, fallen leaf. Shaking, curling tighter, he clenched his fists and tried to ignore the images in his head that replayed and replayed and replayed. He was conscious of his dream world, as if he was watching the scene from behind a glass wall. He could see everything. The blood, most of all. Stark red. Scarlet against skin. He tried to call out and beg for it to stop. He was silent though and he knew he wanted to wake up. Wake up. There was a treason in his mind when it came to sleep, as though sleep wanted to punish him and make him remember the shame, the guilt and his own stupidity. To wake...

...He had to claw out of his mental entrapment. Trying to find a way to escape it, he tried to find the outside world. Dimly, he could hear laughter and muttering as if from far away, and he tugged at it. Whimpering, he struggled to wake.

“Davie...,” he murmured, recognising the laugh now and pulling harder, prising his eyes open so he could blot out the visions in his head.

And then he was free, cold city daylight flickering through the blinds and drifting, lukewarm fingers across his face. Blinking blindly, he slowly, stiffly uncoiled from the tight ball he’d been in. He sighed and yawned, small smile on his face as he heard another laugh from somewhere in the next rooms. David had given him the bed, he realised with a flash of guilt; no wonder the other man was already up. He could also smell coffee and something sweet on the air. It was surreal, and the nightmare seemed to sink away from the surface of his consciousness and into its usual cage in the back of his mind.

Rolling across the bed and out of the sheets, he half tumbled onto the floor as his legs protested the rude awakening with a bout of pins-and-needles. He grimaced and wiggled his toes, trying to force feeling back into them. His bag was neatly tucked by the bedside table. He reached for it, feeling his shoulder and elbow click as he stretched. Out of the bag came a small black book that was so full, it had to be bound together with a shoelace to stop it from spilling open. Gently he tugged the lace off and flicked through slowly, glancing fondly over some of the pages before stopping on a blank sheet and then rummaging for a pen. He wrote quickly, four short sentences:

I’m in New York and looking for Alex. I’m with David. Had the dream again. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

Then he tied the lace back around, tucked the pen into a side pocket and carefully placed the book back into his bag with a pensive look on his face. He tried wiggling his toes again. They seemed okay. Trying to stand was more of a challenge than he’d expected, but the stiffness was less than he’d figured it would be when he’d gone to sleep the night before. His back still ached and his face throbbed angrily along with his other bruises but... it was easier knowing that he didn’t need to worry too much about running for now. Surely it’d take another few days before they realised he wasn’t coming back.

*



Hey cutie,

It’s weird how a couple of days of not talking feels so odd to us now, doesn’t it, considering how I didn’t ever know you or of you until a year ago(and probably still wouldn’t if not for that penpal website). I really missed you and I was a little worried.

I’ve had a fairly normal few days, if I’m honest. School, soccer season, general stuff – only thing that’s kind of exciting is that my dad decided that we needed a dog, so we’ve now got the cutest Labrador puppy. It’s got massive paws because it’s growing up quite fast, but it’s still baffled by the lack of other dogs, I think. Anyway, it’s called Rascal and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. I’ll send photos next time when I’ve got some good ones of its first run or something.

I know you said that everything had been fine recently (last time we spoke) but I have to ask, how often have you been getting high with those kids from school? You said it was just a joke and a bit of ‘banter’, but getting stoned in school could get you kicked out. What you said in your email... Mattie, don’t do anything stupid. I know you and your stepdad don’t get on and your mom’s a drama queen, but you’ve got a great chance at that school of yours. I know I sound like an absolute dick right now but I really am worried. Our last conversation when you were out of your head... that kind of put things in perspective a bit. I don’t want you to do something foolish that might hurt you...or get you hurt.

Look, I’ll be online later tonight and if you can get on, I’d love to chat. I miss your silly ways.
David.

*

Laughing at some small comment, David looked down into his coffee cup and smiled as he breathed in the rich, bitter smell of the heavy roast. He had never been a morning person, but today remained the exception. The warmth of the brew, the smell, the room, the company it all made him happy, and that made him wake up despite his usual trends. However, his good mood didn’t mean that he noticed the third presence in the room when it appeared, lingering in the doorway like a shadow.

“Morning, Matt,” she chirped, beaming smile alerting David to Matt’s presence, “Sorry, did we wake you?”

David turned in time to see Matt’s returned, shy smile and the shake of his head, “No. It was just time to get up.” He looked at his watch. “It’s past midday at home though, so that’s probably part of it.”

“I forgot about that,” Millie nodded enthusiastically as she agreed. “Did you sleep okay, though? You didn’t have any trouble?”

Matt was quick to shake his head, “No, I was knackered. Slept like the dead.”

David frowned; that wasn’t true. He’d seen and heard for himself how restless the young man’s sleep had been, and he still looked so tired... It wasn’t just because of the blond, bed-head hair that was sticking up in all directions and the half-awake flicker of his eyes, although the bruises and the swelling around his left eye certainly didn’t help in that respect; it was also the dusty shadows below his eyes, the pallor that hadn’t left his skin, like he was sick. Still, he didn’t call Matt out. What was the point in making him any more defensive than he probably already was?

“Did you want some coffee? Tea?” Millie was offering now. “David’s getting good at the tea.”

Standing, he waved an arm towards the table, “Yeah, why are you still in the door? Come sit. What’s your poison?”

“Davie, that’s what they say in bars, not at breakfast,” she teased and he smiled.

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

David turned to the kettle, to the two jars of tea and coffee and then turned back to where Matt was now smirking in the corner. “What did you want again?”

“Tea would be great.”

“Should have known.”

As Matt moved to the table and sat down - slightly stiffly, David noticed - , Millie asked what his plan was now that he was in New York. “Weren’t you planning to stay with a friend?”

Watching carefully now, able to pretend that he was waiting for the kettle, David saw how Matt’s expression froze before quickly moving into a smooth, false smile. “Yeah,” he said, “ It was meant to be a sort of... surprise...you know. It was a whim - I haven’t seen much of her since she moved here so...”

“Oooo - who is she? A girlfriend?”

“Noooooo.” Matt’s laugh sounded more natural, although his expression still seemed strained around his eyes. “She’s my best mate. Known her since we were seven or something stupid like that.”

“That’s so sweet.”

He nodded and shrugged. “I’ll need to try and get a hold of her today. Hopefully it won’t be too much of a problem.”

“Well, if there is, you can rely on us until you’re sorted,” she offered flippantly, taking a sip of her tea. “It’s nice to have the place so full of people again.”

David looked at her fondly now and, as the kettle brought the water to the boil, he finished Matt’s tea, stirred and passed it over. Sitting across from Millie now, Matt was between them and holding the mug in both hands, apparently unaffected by the burning temperature of the tea. Shifting to make himself comfortable, David noticed the way Matt didn’t sit properly on the chair; it was as though he was ready to spring away from the table at any moment, both feet on the ground and perched on the edge of his seat.

“Thank you,” Matt said after a moment staring at his tea. “For coming to get me and letting me stay here and all. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise.”

“Didn’t we tell you enough times last night not to worry about it?”

Matt grinned, wincing a little as his face stretched. “Yeah but I wanted to say it again now that I’m more awake and stuff, you know. Last night’s a bit blurry.”

Giggling as she leant forward on the table, Millie nodded in agreement, “You were so sleepy last night. It was like watching an exhausted puppy. We were talking about it last night.”

The blush that David had seen the night before bloomed again on Matt’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, it was cause you were so cute and you curled up against David.”

Matt’s blush deepened.

David knew she was only teasing and he was grinning, but he still told Millie to stop harassing the boy, saying, “He’s not used to you, woman.”

*

Matt couldn’t quite believe the morning atmosphere. Stepping out of the room he’d padded on socked feet, pulling on his cardigan as he quietly moved down the landing towards the hushed voices that tumbled from the kitchen. The hall had been as quiet as he was, but it was full of morning light that bounced along the walls in fluttering panels where open doors lay.

Nerves rankled his composure; what was he meant to say? How was he meant to go in? But for the first time in a very long time, he kept going without pause. In the end, they’d simply ushered him in with tea, sat him down, and teased him like one of their own. The tea was good; strong and black with the comforting, caressing smell wafting through his nose like a hazy dream. And the walls were so yellow, so bright and so warm – just a picturesque hash of colour and smiles. The room made him feel safe, as if it was designed for that purpose. The room - this stranger’s kitchen - was the antithesis of the mangled, muddled mess that surrounded him at home. It was a world away.

Somewhere beyond the walls he could hear pigeons cooing and a low, long hum of traffic from the distant world; and still the sunny space he’d found remained separate from it all. Trying to call Alex would have to be the next thing he did, of course it would; he knew that staying here wasn’t an option. He was penniless and homeless and a runaway. But it was nice to bask in the warm voices and the warm smells and the warm room whilst he did.

“I think Matt might need to go back to bed.”

“Hm?” He lifted his head at his name to see Millie grinning the grin that never seemed to leave her heart-shaped face.

She was prettier than he’d first thought last night. With clear skin and a speckle of light freckles on her nose as if she’d been somewhere sunny recently, it was easy to see the health and vivaciousness written on her face. The sparkle in her green eyes never dimmed, even when she seemed serious, and her hair, which he’d thought was brown the night before, was actually a dark auburn, almost red.

“Are you still sleepy? You keep zoning out.”

“Oh yeah, I’m just thinking.” He smiled, trying to show how content he was on his face without moving it too much and upsetting the bruises, “Sorry. It’s just so...surreal.”

He knew he sounded stilted, but the warmth had worked its way into his voice. He’d been on edge when they’d asked about Alex, because he didn’t want everyone to know that he was fleeing his country and trying to seek a strange sort of asylum with his oldest friend. Still,he didn’t really feel threatened. It was habit that made his nerves jangle when small shadows momentarily blocked the sun from the room, and it was habit that sat him on the edge of his chair even when he couldn’t see any danger.

Stopping himself from laughing, he shook his head, “I’m sort of excited. Sort of terrified. Like... I’m in America. I’ve never been so far away from Wycombe.” He didn’t ever use the word home any more. A house was not a home.

“Oh, you are just too cute.”

“Millie!” David rushed to his rescue, as he felt himself flush with embarrassment and confusion, baffled at what he had said to trigger that reaction.

“Oh fine!” she huffed, “I won’t tease, but it is sweet that you’re so excited. I was exactly the same when I went to England.”

He managed a smile, sipping at his tea. “It’s okay, really.”

David was watching him. Matt could feel his eyes on his face again, like they had been since he had entered the room. It was beginning to tickle the edge of his anxiety even though- he was sure that if he let his eyes flicker across to his penpal he’d probably never look away... It just felt like he was being studied now. It made him wonder what David was seeing, what he was looking for. Was he a disappointment? Did he look as bad as his bruises felt? Was he showing some emotion he thought he was hiding? Did he have eyeliner on one eye and not the other? Was it something to do with his clothes? What was David looking at? He didn’t want to try and look and see if he could figure it out.

Trying to change the topic, he moved his gaze from the table to Millie again. “Um... I know this is a bit cheeky, but could I borrow a phone? I kind of ran the battery flat yesterday and I don’t have an American charger and I can get Alex to call me back and -”

“Whoa, slow down. You can borrow the phone. It’s in the living room.” Reaching across the table, Millie patted his hand and he looked at it in shock. “Just wait until after breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“You know, when you eat sometime before midday? Eggs, sausage, home fries.”

David chuckled, seeing the sardonic eyebrow rise on Matt’s face. “We have a kind of breakfast tradition whenever we’re all together. We’ll see what you make of it.”

“Should we get started? Wake up the boys with the smell of grease and love?” Millie added with a hopeful look on her expressive face. It was as though she had extra muscles in her face for pulling peculiar looks.

“I can cook. I’m pretty good,” Matt chipped in. “Can I help?”

“David’s speciality is pancakes - blueberry and chocolate chip and cinnamon, all sorts. I make smoothies and stuff, and then usually Stefan pops along to make sausage and bacon, but feel free to take over his role, I’m sure he’s still dead to the world.”

“Tyson does fried mushrooms and no one really likes them, not even him, but it’s about the only thing he can cook that’s normal.”

“He makes excellent sushi.”

“Works in a Japanese restaurant.”

“But it’s a long standing joke that he can’t really cook,” Millie finished. “So shall we?”

There was an excited thrum in the room that he didn’t quite understand. It was just breakfast. The meal that usually consisted of plain, stale toast or dry cereal. However, whilst food had never been his friend, since he so often had to make it and so rarely managed to eat it, he loved to cook because it made him relax and he was glad that they were allowing him to join in. Plus it’d give him a chance to show he could be useful. Maybe then he’d be allowed to work off whatever he owed them.

*

David was quite happy with himself. He looked at his pancakes as they began to turn the warm golden brown he wanted. They were perfect: round and thick with blueberries and chocolate chips oozing out across the gold skin and wafting a scent across the room that was sweet and warm. Chuckling to himself, he flipped the most recent pancake onto the purple rimmed plates, chest puffed with delight at the perfection in front of him.

Scooping more mix from the bowl, he poured a perfect circle into the pan and sat back to watch it begin to cook. He’d add another layer in a second, but he took a moment to see that Millie was cutting up fresh fruit. She’d already made a banana and strawberry smoothie, as well as a mixed berry one, so he guessed it was probably for a fruit salad of some sort. His eyes moved to the boy he’d been struggling not to stare at. Matt, his little, bruised, malnourished friend. There was a peaceful, calm look on Matt’s face that mixed in with the small amount of concentration that flickered across his face as he worked. He was frying a vast array of foods. There was a plate of steaming bacon keeping warm in the oven as the sausages cooked. Now he was cooking something David hadn’t seen before. He’d started with chipolatas and then added bacon, mushrooms and onions and now was mixing in egg. It seemed to be forming an almost pizza-like omelette and now Matt was adding cheese and god... the smells. David breathed in heavily, forcing his focus back to his pancakes.

So his English boy could cook. He didn’t know why that surprised him... maybe something to do with the fact that the blond was so skinny that it didn’t look like he ever ate. Why should a boy like that be able to cook like this? He could feel his mouth becoming wet, anticipating the food that the tantalising smells promised.

“Do you have any tomatoes?” Matt’s voice was shy again, as if wondering if it was okay to ask.

“Yeeahs, I think so. Check the fridge.” Millie responded, tongue sticking out of her mouth as she focused on quartering an exceptionally large strawberry.

Matt began to rummage, bending over, and David let himself check the other boy out. Tempting, just like the food.

“Gawd guys, y’all started without me.” Stefan shuffled into the room in his boxers, eyes still drooping with sleep and hair sticking up at all angles. His voice was teasing, “Smells good.”

“It’s that omelette thing Mattie’s making. Smells divine.” Millie agreed, tilting her head back onto Stefan’s shoulder as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, “Morning babe.” She murmured and he hummed into her shoulder.

David had always been slightly jealous about their relationship, so seemingly perfect and secure. Sure, they squabbled like a old couple that had been together since the fifties, but they were also such a singular entity Tyson had been calling them Stefilla and Camfan and all sorts of silly names that never quite worked but that always brought a sappy smile to everyone’s faces. Of course, Millie was now waiting for Stefan to pop the question and that had been cause for a few minor break downs both on his shoulder and over the phone. She was worried that he was never going to ask. David argued that they were only twenty-two and she’d always say that it wasn’t that she wanted to be married but that she wanted to be engaged. She and Stefan had been going out for nearly four years and she was ready for him to at least ask. They could wait until they were older to actually exchange vows.

“Is it so wrong to want to know that he wants to live the rest of his life with me, too?”

Shaking his head, David took the last of the pancakes off the stove and saw Matt just finishing off whatever he called that amazing smelling collection in his pan.

“So, what do you call that, Matt?”

“A One-Pan-Attack. It’s a full English Breakfast all in one pan,” the boy answered with a small smile on his lips. “It was the only thing my dad could ever cook that wasn’t on a barbecue.” He laughed slightly and grabbing a plate and sliding the creation onto it with a practised movement.

Tyson had laid the table for them, pulling it out from the wall so they could fit another person easily around it. The plate of bacon was taken out from the oven, the sausages placed in a dish and served onto the table, the pancakes made a wobbly stack in the centre, teetering between the jugs of different smoothies and the bowl of fresh fruit and then there, in the place of the fried mushrooms, was the aromatic tease that was the One-Pan-Attack.

“I cannot wait to get into this.” Stefan was already bouncing around to his usual seat with a much more wakeful grin, “Is there coffee too?”

“Just coming!” Millie was pouring hot water into a cafetiere and the thick, heady smell filled the room in the perfect morning accompaniment to the breakfast scent.

“Music?”

“On it!” David was quick to move to the iDock, and flicked through until he found what he wanted. “Little bit of the King’s Singers to wake us up?”

“Only if it’s my playlist of them!” Tyson interrupted, “Otherwise you’ll end up with their Christmas album.”

“Sure I know it. You are the New Day.”

An acapella perfection joined in to make the day a perfect beginning.