Under The Bridge

It's warm out. Warm for spring, and a bright sky full of wispy clouds. I'm not going to melt and I'm not going to freeze. Everything is open and loose and flowing. A group of college students toss a frisbee over the grass and laugh at the guy who didn't catch. He slipped and face planted, so I get it. It is kind of funny. I glance at my phone. It's after the agreed upon time, but only five minutes or so. Everyone gets five minutes or so. Even I took a good minute and a half after the moment. I play with the piercing on my tongue as my fingers tap against the ones on my brow. That does help the rising clench in my stomach. Not a lot, but it keeps me from bolting.

But I check my phone again, just to be sure. Still five minutes or so. Still waiting on a park bench watching people my age play right next to the group of mothers and children doing something similar on a jungle gym. Different actions, different structure, different audience but still the same.

It's still not enough to calm myself down. It's nerves, plain and simple. It's that little churn in my stomach that doesn't quiet down. I look down the path, and she isn't there. I look down the other way and spot something like her for a moment, but it's not. It's just someone who kind of looks like her. I sink my phone down into my pockets. It's crept back up and I don't need it. Time is flowing and it will come to pass. I figure 20 or so minutes after the time is a good place to call it. I would have spent about half an hour sitting in the park on a beautiful day. Not quite as good as a date, but still a decent use with an afternoon chunk. Might go over and see if I can join the frisbee gang.

"Hey Mac," says a voice I can't see, "Sorry I'm late. Missed my train."

I jump a bit as a ripple crawls up my skin. The nerves got to me and cracked through my resolve. She laughs. She doesn't mean to, but her own nerves must be doing something.

"Don't worry about it, Kaori," I manage to get out, "I was late too."

"Good to know. Now we both know we're bad at time. So, where to?"

I manage to come to standing despite my weak knees. I'm also a bit stuck to the bench. She looks good. A few steps down from when we first met, but that's to be expected. She's missing a few of her piercings and her makeup is done with a much lighter hand. It works better under the midday sun. Her first version was done under strobe lights and lasers and smoke machines. The skirt's longer too, which I am a little disappointed with. The top makes up for it. Tied off and showing just a line of her stomach. I learn she has a belly button piercing as well.

"Down there," I say, "Ever heard of Powder & Pack?"

She shakes her head and I have won the first clash of the date. She'll find out what it is and then we'll see if I win the next one.

We walk together a bit. Her day was fine, except for the whole train thing. The machine wouldn't take her card and that caused the people behind her to get angry. She kept trying it and eventually some security guy had to come over and check it. She was a good girl though. No hopping or jumping today. That was saved for the nights out where every decision was bad and dumb and drunk. My day was fine as well. That's a good coincidence. Overslept a bit, but that's too far away to excuse my lateness. And I wouldn't even consider oversleeping to be the bad sort of inconvenience.

Ice cream, the big surprise is an ice cream truck. It doesn't play the creepy music, thank God. It just roams the city streets and posts about it so all the pretension people can stand in line and take pictures with it. She smiles when the stand comes into view. No one in the world would turn up some ice cream. Especially today. The line's long, but not too long. People are slipping together and melting into one long shape. Other couples doing the same thing as us, at different stages. Kaori gives the one two spots ahead of us a month or so until something spoils and breaks. I put money on the old people near the front getting down to some really interesting things at night. When she asks for further elaboration, I just shrug and move and let her come up with specifics. I do mention leather and straps and she sees it too. The line flows forward like a river and we are at the counter. She gets tropical sorbet, a nice scoop of sunshiney yellow. I debate for a moment before settling on ube, whatever that is. It looks nice and bright and purple. I like purple. Not as much as green, but purple is good.

"So," she says in between bites, "What do you do? Like for work?"

"Nothing really special," I shrug, "Just a warehouse gig down by the docks. I do get to drive a forklift though. That's fun."

"Honestly, kind of. Forklifts are fun, like more industrial golf carts. Do you do anything fun with them? I'm picturing some sort of joust. You look like the kind of guy who would joust with forklifts."

"You're right. I do look like that kind of guy. But no. I'd probably lose and then get fired. That's how they do layoffs, actually. It's a big joust tournament. The foreman dresses like a queen, they do the whole suckling pig on a spit, and the admin staff dress like wizards. I'll see if I can get you a ticket next quarter."

She laughs and that makes her treat drip down her hands. It lands on her forearm. She lifts it up and licks it clean and I don't look at the peaking straps of her bra, the dark fray under her arm. I'm watching the cute dog on a fun walk. I take a good long lick and let the purple diffuse into my body. It's sweet. I think I like the purple goo.

"Can I try yours," she asks, "I've never had ube ice cream."

I lean it over and she mimes the action. I also don't look down her shirt. That would be impolite. There's enough there to form a simple gap and sway. They look fun to roll and play with.

"I've never even heard of ube," I say, "I just liked the purple."

"That's good. And it is a good purple. Here, open up."

I do as I'm told because I'm a good person. I get a good lick of sour lime and it resonates down my body. She takes it a bit up and dots my nose. She laughs again and move my tongue, letting the muscle stretch and grow until it reaches the tip of my nose. Not the most necessary move, but I see the gears in her mind turn at what all that means. She's a little weirded out, but in a good way, I think. She sticks out her tongue at me and strains. She doesn't even come close to mimicking the trick.

"How about you," I ask, "What do you do?"

"Barista, sort of," she says after a moment, "It's a café, but there's also a bookstore in it and a board game space. I think the owner just wanted a place to hang out and be a nerd in that also made him money. It's honestly pretty fun. It's right across from the station, so the commute's super-fast. If it's a slow day, we can play board games."

I go for one more lick, but there's nothing in my bowl. It's gone too soon and I debate whether or not to get back in line for more ice cream. She's debating it too, but I commit the cardinal sin of checking my phone. Almost two hours and I had no clue about that.

"Hey," she says, "do you want to check out the main walk? The street performers should be out."

I do. I really, really do. I've heard there's a guy who juggles fire who shows up sometimes.

"I'm sorry but I can't," I sigh, "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Really? This late on a Saturday?"

"Yeah, it's a thing."

"Like a thing thing or like a bad thing?"

"I sort of have a condition. Kind of personal, but it's not contagious or fatal or debilitating or bad. It's just something I have to go in for pretty regularly."

"Well, that sucks."

"Honestly, it's not that bad. I actually get paid for it. I'm a freak of nature."

She cocks her head and looks at me. The mystery is there and planted and she's trying to figure it all out. I don't think she has enough to go on and I'd put money on her not getting it right.

"Industrial accident," she says after another moment of thought, "It turned you into some sort of mutant wearing human skin. Or, or, old Skinwalker demon thing. No, no. I'm doubling down on the mutant."

I shrug. I confirm or deny nothing at all. More right that I thought, but not quite in line with the whole demon line. I wish I was that.

"Well, congratulations Mac," she says, "You are now officially the most interesting guy I've ever gone on a date with."

"Really? That's flattering. But I think you should probably confirm that."

"So, second date then?"

"I'm down if you're down."

She smiles at me. That wonderful little quiver in my stomach comes back and I never want it to go away. We walk towards the station together, through the beautiful day at the park. Right after the turnstile, she turns and kisses me on the cheek. The last shred of my will keeps me from turning into a puddle on the stained tile. She waves at me when turn to my line. I wave back and I can't stop smiling.

---

"So," says Dr. Sauvagess, "I'm guessing you had ice cream on the way over. Doesn't explain why the sample you gave was purple. But we'll figure it out. Probably."

I'm staring at the door. The room's white and sterile. The thin sheet of paper on the bench clings to me. It's not supposed to, but it does. Another quirk in my physiology that never really finds a perfect explanation. The doctor's wearing large silver hoops today with a nice crisp blouse. She looks up from the chart through her wide glasses.

"Mac," she says, "Mac. Mackenzie. I will throw something at you."

She's talking a bit more and I think I'm in danger. The good doctor winds up and throws her pen at me. It sticks in my forehead a good inch or so deep. I'm aware now and slowly draw it into me. It's mine now. She shudders.

"Was it worth it," I ask, "You're grossed out and missing a pen. That's on you."

"In a way, it was," she sighs, "In any other practice, I'd be sued for malpractice for that. But fortunately, I can't physically hurt you. Probably. The ethics board still needs to sign off for the ballistics test. That's going to be a fun day."

I shift back in my perch and leave a simple clean trail in my image. She takes a hand to her temple and rubs a small circle. The tension is still there. It comes packaged with me.

"Unfortunately for me," she continues, "I'm responsible for your mental wellbeing as well. Out with it. What's going on?"

"Ube," I say, "That's why I'm purple."

"What the hell is an ube?"

"I think it's a type of yam. You can make ice cream out it, apparently."

"Neat. Was it that new food truck thing in the park? My niece won't shut up about it. Must have been really good if it's gotten you this out of it."

"It was good, but not that good."

She takes a moment to study me, piercing through my opaque layer of camouflage. She sees right through me like a stained-glass window.

"Oh my God," she gapes, "You were on a date weren't you?"

We both learn a very important scientific fact at this moment. I can blush. I'm not sure what color I turn, but I think it's deeper than whatever I gave earlier.

"I have several questions," she says, "but the first, did you have fun?"

I nod.

"Did she have fun?"

I nod again, slight less sure, but still pretty sure.

"Well then, anything else I can say should be ignored. But seriously how?"

"We met at the Transistor Fest a while ago," I say, "During DJ Pet Shop's set."

"I have no idea what those two things are, but good for you. If you can get a date, then there might be hope for my son yet."

"I wouldn't be so sure. He doesn't have good taste in music."

"Hey now. I can insult my son, but you can stay quiet. He likes bands I know nothing about, so I assume they're popular."

"Doesn't mean they're good."

"They're not. And I doubt your little stint of noise was good either. I'd bet it wasn't even music."

She's being mean again, but she's smiling, so that's nice. I'm smiling too. Odd for her to smile, but I think it's in her rights to do so.

"And now I have to be a mom again," she says, "You know the risks of your morphology and what reaction you might get right?"

I nod. I'm weird. No other word for it. No way around it. I can see the road to the moment, but not a second afterward.

"I have to try," I say, "And she's cool. I like her. She likes me. I don't know what else I can do at this point. But whatever happens, I can roll with it. Go with the flow, right?"

She nods, just as surprised as me. I can be mature and wise if given the opportunity. Her tablet chimes and she glances over. It's in her hands and she's running through it in her head. All the data they pulled from me, all the liquids and all the components and all the ways everything interacts.

"And everything is normal," she says, "Well, normal for you. And yes, it was the ube or yam or whatever that turned you purple. It should fade in a few hours, if you care. Temperature and water saturation are a bit high, but with the weather like it is, I don't think it's anything to worry about. Congratulations. You're a healthy whatever you are."

"As far as you know," I shrug. I feel healthy though. Light and happy and like I could take on the world if it looked at me cross eyed.

"I do know. So shut up and get out of here. I'm sure you have a fun evening planned of being an ass, and I am finally getting a night with my boyfriend. And you better not break this girl's heart, Mac. I doubt you'll get another chance."

Just to be the ass she thinks I am, I slide my new pen out of my forehead, never breaking eye contact. I let it fall into my lap before slurping it back into me. She shudders again, but I leave. Despite it all, she's smiling. Shaking her head too, but that only means she can't help herself from smiling. All in all, I think she's happy for me.

---

I toss a kernel of popcorn up and Kaori catches it in her mouth. And I am impressed. I would clap, but that would be impolite. We're already making too much noise for a theater, even if we're the only ones there. Theaters need to be quiet so whatever the actors say is heard loud and clear. I think they're talking about blowing up an oil rig. Maybe. I haven't been paying that much attention. I've been trying to catch popcorn in my mouth. I miss this one, but I think I'm still in the lead. I have a big mouth with stretchy lips.

There's an explosion on screen and I do have to pay attention. Another kernel bounces off my cheek and rolls on the floor. I reach in to retaliate, but we're done. Out of ammo, as it seems, just the same as the man on screen. He pulls a knife out and grits his teeth. I take a sip of my soda. It's down to ice and the chill runs throughout my entire body.

And then Kaori is pulling me close, and I am staring deep into her dark eyes. There's a small stud in her nose. Then her lips are on mine and I don't really care about anything anymore.

It's quick. It's surprising. A short jolt of lightning through my body and everything shifts and quivers and bounces in my seat. She pulls away before it can reach my toes and she seems just as surprised as me. Not shocked, but there's a blush creeping in and everything is shouting in a wonderful thrill.

"You taste like pineapple," she murmurs. I learn something else about myself. I don't know how the ethics would pan out for a taste test.

"It's cherry though," I say, as I rattle the now empty cup.

"Don't look at me. I know what pineapple tastes like and I now know what you taste like, and you taste pineapple. What do I taste like?"

"Y'know, I didn't catch that. Guess I have to try again."

She smiles and I learn she has a chipped tooth. Just a bit on the edge, just a little snag. And then it's gone. I'm back on her and she's back on me. She's warm. There's lemon and lime in there, from her own drink, butter and salt from the popcorn, and just her. A whole other person behind a mouth, behind a face, swirling and mixing like the sea in a storm.

Kaori pulls away and her eyes plead for the answer.

"You taste like lips," I say. She giggles and thumps my chest. I almost don't get it feeling right just in time. But I feel like a chest, and I feel like a person and she feels electric.

"Not even soda. Just lips," she sighs, "you have such a way with words."

"I did get that," I say, "but that's what the soda tastes likes. You taste like lips. The soda tastes like soda. And I taste like pineapple, apparently."

She puts her head on my shoulder and I think she's angry with me. I'm being an ass and she likes it and she's frustrated with the fact that she likes it. I put my arm around her. The man on screen has found a belt of grenades. Good for him. Never thrown one of those, and I kind of want to. I bet there's a place somewhere that would let me do that. It's a date idea. Maybe not the best one, but something.

Her arm snakes in with mine and her hand feels like a hand. I bet it tastes more like popcorn than her lips. Her hands are soft and smooth, and I think she has her eyes closed. That's fine. She's not missing much. The screen kind of runs through the motions. I bet it's going to end with another big stunt and a loud noise and he'll rescue whoever the hell got kidnapped. He might even get a medal for his efforts. I'm honestly more interested with where my hand is going. Kaori's trailing it down. I brush past her stomach. I feel the little nugget of silver glide over my fingertips under her shirt. I feel her waistline come to us. I look down to her and she's looking back at me. I'm certainly not going to stop wherever this is headed. I'm not that responsible.

I slip under and I feel her smooth stomach bounce like a drum with her heartbeat. It's going so fast. I don't want it to stop. She smiles at me and dares me with her eyes. I kiss the tip of her nose and that tastes like nose.

I break from her hand and apply some pressure. It's warm. She's warm. I feel her heat through the thin fabric of her underwear. I play with it, back and forth, side to side, rolling her entrance with soft circles and playing lines. Her heartbeat keeps going faster. Her breathing deepens and slows. Her eyes close again and she doesn't care about the movie. I don't care about the movie. Really, at best, it's just an excuse to be in a dark room together for an hour or so. I run a single finger down and that pulls a noise from her. I run it back up and it's played in reverse. There's a laugh trailing at the end of it, mixed in with the soft noise. She didn't know that would make her sound like that either. I do it a few more times, mostly for my sake. I bet I could get a song out of it when I learn all the ways I can move.

I go back to circles and her arousal starts to seep from her. I can feel it move through the threads. Little dabs and dribbles, carrying heat and excitement away from her. Her breathing is calm. Her chest just keeps rising and falling, rising and falling. Simple waves of motion. Her hands grip the arm rests tight. Nothing white knuckle or harsh, just a bit of effort to keep her grounded through the teasing. I can feel her entire body tense and flex through this one point of contact.

I move out of the way a bit and touch bare skin. She doesn't stop me. She lets me move all the thin barriers about of the way until she is bare under my touch. Much warmer here, much more excited. I trace the lips and that's another round of nonsense noise from her chest. It dies under the soundtrack of bullets and ballistics. It's just for me. My body swallows sounds and sends waves through every ounce of my being. I resonate with her, ripple like a stone disturbed pond. She's too into her own little sensation to pick up on my inconsistency. I'm too far into it to keep complete control.

I probe into her and that is a sharp hissing intake. I stop and let it still us both. Back to the still moving water of being. Back to being placid and tight and quiet.