Under The Bridge

Then, like the bastard I am, I start moving again.

Slow, I am polite enough to be slow. I am probing her and moving her, feeling everything in her body shift and change under my touch. Despite my inexperience, I follow the stream of noise. I bring her to the edge of breaking that surface tension, and then back off. It's the circles that do it for her, I learn. Circles and lines, flowing motions that never quite stip. Ebb and flow like the tide as she presses into me. She is a shore to crash against, to erode and break. Her legs keep tensing and I push back against the flexing drum of her skin. So solid and strong, I can feel the muscle cling to bone. She breathes in deep and starts rocking her hips.

And I follow the channel as she buries her face in my shoulder. I morph and change to make sure she's comfortable. If she notices, she is too far gone to care. I change shape to match her.

I add another finger's worth to her and that finally makes her gasp through the noise of the screen. It echoes and bounces before the soft cushions tamper it back down. We're alone, but there's still a hand over her mouth. Her eyes open in panic. No one heard, except for me. She's smiling through the shock. She's rocking her hips and I match within her. I swirl and turn and pump and stroke her wall, feeling it shake and bounce. All of her is a tightly wound drum. All of her is ringing out before a gentle hand comes to tamper it back down. It's quiet and calm, only building back up when I start moving again.

She holds my forearm as I keep my hand in her. She is warm, so incredibly warm. I find a spot that makes her tense and break and shatter and I keep everything there. She wants it there. I want to be there. It is tight and warm and pulling on my fingers. I change shapes as all the essence of my body grows denser and thicker and changes her shape just as easily. She shivers and shudders, more little gasps escaping that thin veil of audible noise. It's high and sweet and clear, like ice on a pond shattering under a thrown rock. It's all so fragile and glass. It's all so thin and breaking. She grips me tight. Her nails dig in deep, almost to my phantom bones. I keep going.

It comes quickly, her release. It's short and jagged like a knife cutting her open. It cuts through me, even. Her lips are buried in my shoulder, and she is screaming into me. I ripple and bounce with the frequency. I shimmer and wave like a pond under a glare. And it comes out as a bewildered laugh from my core, burbling up my neck and out my lips like a brook. Credits are rolling and I think the good guy won, by whatever definition. I break through her and feel her warm release land on my surface. She's shaking in her seat, knees rigid and locked. A hand tugs at her skirt, balling it up as she babbles and murmurs nonsense dreams into me. I keep the motion steady.

It winds down and she is panting and flushed. I'm unbearably smug, probably. I'm mostly bewildered that it happened. No clue what happens next, but Kaori has an idea. Her arm snakes against mine and she presses her body into me.

"Can you walk?" I ask. She snorts and giggles and proves that she can. There's a bit of a wobble in there, but movie theater floors are notoriously sticky. Might have just caught on a piece of candy and tripped a bit. Her knees are shaky, but that's something else, probably.

"That was nice," she says, "But not that nice. Going to take a lot more than that to turn me to jelly."

I just shrug as I gather our trash. I imagine that's true. Jelly is very hard to turn into. At best, I can do a gel or a paste reliably. She puts herself back together. Her shirt rode up. Her skirt shifted and turned. And she somehow lost a shoe. It's two rows down. It's not quite toe curling, back arching pleasure, but I'll take a good attempt at a field goal. That has to count for something.

"So," she says as she slips her shoe back on, "if I can be blunt, I do kind of want to turn to jelly."

I freeze. Apparently, that's not the correct reaction. She giggles.

"Are you not down for that? Big day at work tomorrow?" she says.

"No, I'm okay with that," I stammer, "Just kind of surprised that I got this far."

"I just let you finger me in a movie theater. You're going wherever you want, buddy."

That sounds more or less plausible. I'm sure I can find a way to fuck it up.

---

I fumble with my keys. Kaori looks down the hall and sees more closed doors. I don't know what she expected. Most apartment buildings have closed doors. And I don't think I've ever seen most of them open. Every so often, one will creak open, and a scared little head will poke out. On seeing that the coast was clear, they would always slip out and go about their business. That key is for my mailbox. The next one I try is the one.

"Um," I say, "Just a heads up, I kind of have a weird style."

"Oh please," she sighs, "I knew a guy who had a taxidermy alligator for a coffee table. I doubt you can top that."

"Did you date that guy?"

"Oh hell no. That dude was so weird. The alligator wasn't even the worst of it."

I am not soothed by those words, but I do take them to heart. I do not have an alligator coffee table. I don't even have a coffee table, really. She'll figure out what's wrong with the picture sooner or later. I'm kind of curious with what she'll go to first. I get the door open and let her inside, flicking on the lights when it's my turn to come in. She kicks off her shoes in a polite manner before glancing around. I start the clock in my head. And I may be an odd host, but I will try to be a generous one at least.

"Do you want something to drink," I ask.

"Mac," she says, "You don't have any chairs."

"Kind of why I didn't offer you a seat."

"And why is there a kiddy pool in front of your TV?"

I take a deep breath to steel my nerves. She may not want a drink, but I sure do. Soda tends to get me all gummy and stiff. So just tap water. I let it run over my over my palm from the faucet. It flows into me and I feel more and more alive. That's part of the nerves.

"Do you remember my condition," I ask.

"Yeah, but you never told me what it was. And that's fine. That's your business. But I don't see how that leads to a kiddy pool in front of a TV."

Butterflies and fireflies and so many other flies in my stomach. My hands' shaking, rippling like a puddle. It takes more from me to slow it down. Another deep breath in and out. It doesn't actually do anything, but it's the motion. It's the conscious act to slow down, take the next step and then one more. She's looking at me. She glances towards the door. It's open. She can get there. There's a hand in her purse and I don't blame.

"I need to show you something," I say, "I promise, nothing bad is going to happen to you."

She says nothing, but she's still there. She lets me pass and I stand in the pool.

And I melt.

Kaori screams and jumps back, hand to the wall and pulling a small bottle of mace from her bag. She sprays it and it lands on my surface. I take it within me and feel nothing. Spicy, as if I couldn't guess, but I am still the same gelatinous puddle I was before, just in a better shape. I've poured myself into a new vessel and became it instead of what shape I was before. The density and the color and all the form has shifted, but it is still me. She knows me, even if the change is so very drastic.

She's panicking and I'm sitting still. No sudden movements, no grand motions, I am still. Kind of hurts to be screamed at when I get what I consider to be naked, but this isn't really about me. And to her credit, she doesn't go to the door. She's pressed against the wall, and trying to make herself scarce, but she's not running. Just frozen over.

"I'm okay," I burble, "are you?"

"Mac, what the fuck?" she stammers, "What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?"

I wait for the words to settle again. The panic is still there, but it's dying down. Surprise, that's all it was. That's all it is.

"This is my condition," I say, "This is kind of what I am."

"You're goo, Mac," she says, "You're goo. Why are you goo? Please stop being goo."

It takes a moment to find the shapes I was, but I flow into that shape more or less easily. I am lounging in an empty kiddy pool in a sparsely furnished apartment. At least I have some good shelf space, full of books I've glanced through and a picture of me and the good doctor from a few years ago. I don't know if that makes anything better. But I have a mouth to talk through instead of whatever I had before.

"What the fuck?" she whispers again. The mace goes back into her bag and her breathing's nice and slow.

"Yeah," I sigh, "Yeah, I get that. But it's still the same me. Just, I can do that. And I can do other things. But I'm not going to show you any of that."

"Thank you for that. Jesus Christ. What the fuck?"

I can't help but notice that I make her knees buckle, albeit not quite in the way I wanted. She takes a deep breath and I think that actually does help her more than it helps me. All of her slowly sinks down, flowing down my wall until she pours and puddles in my carpet. At least it's always clear. I tend to pick up any debris along my walks about town. I hate litter.

"Mac," she says, "I'm going to go now. I need to go. I'm going to go."

I slowly flow to standing and she shies away from me. She knows how I feel and how I touch, but it's different now. I keep my space. Part of me wants to hold the door open for her, but I have to be ungentlemanly to be gentlemanly. Kind of a paradox to work through, but I settle in my space. She waves at least. I wave back, and that seems to freak her out a bit. My hand looks like a hand now, and hands are made for waving.

The door closes and I let the tension go again. I'm back in a fun little puddle in my fun little pool. I sigh and a bubble pops on my surface. I send a tendril out searching the floor for the remote. It's all the way over in the corner. I have no idea how it got there.

All in all, I don't know how it could have been better. She could have torn off her clothes and dived into me, made me food and scattered across me like an old man feeding ducks. But that's all just fantasy. Maybe could have done without the screaming, but that's not for me to get mad about. Disappointed, I think that's the best word for it. At least, I'll have some things to talk about with Dr. Sauvagess at my next appointment.

---

"So," Dr. Sauvagess says, "You can cry, sort of. There are streams in your body now that match the chemical composition of tears. That's neat. Huh?"

I'm half paying attention really. The other half is lost. It's all just noise. I got myself together for work. I pulled myself up for my appointment. But other than that, I've just kind of sat in the tub the past week. Didn't even get around to whittling down my binge list.

"Oh no," she whispers, "You're broken."

"Little bit," I say, "Kaori still kind of has me shook up."

"I bet, Mac. It can't have been easy for you."

"It wasn't, but I can't really get mad about it. I mean, what else could have happened? The only reason you don't scream when you see me is because you found me."

"And I got used to you. And that's what she needs to do. That's what anybody needs to do with anyone. You're just a really, really steep drop."

"Yeah, that really makes me feel better."

"Just calling it how I see it. If my ex-husband would just turn to slush one day, I'd probably panic too. Then be really, really happy, but still. The shock would be there."

"You're still not making me feel better."

"Also, not my job. I'm here to document how you feel. And while you may not be human, technically, you're a person. All that sadness and shock, that's personhood right there. It's terrible and shitty, but you'll find something or someone who can get over the humanity and see the person. Its just going to be a harder climb."

Oddly enough, that does make me feel better. Still feel terrible, but I'm running through the options. Daphne's Deli is on the way home and they make a good gyro. Maybe grab a smoothie from Pulp's, or some donuts from Slowrise. It won't exactly do the same thing, but it will make me feel better chemically. That will feed into the emotional and mental and then it will clear the whole stream. Moderation and still water and the whole ecosystem will be come whole again. I am kind of hungry, so that will solve one problem at least.

Something sets me jiggling, and that sends the good doctor shuddering. It's my phone, swimming around my left thigh at the moment. It stops after a moment. The current in my body carries it up and up and out to my hand.

"Kids," she sighs, "Always the damn phones. Can't get mine to look up for more than five minutes at a time. At least you don't have a neck to screw up."

"hey," says Kaori from my phone.

"I'm guessing that's her," the doctor says, "I guess I can let you answer that."

"You're not my mom," I say, "And I'm an adult."

"Maybe. Not sure how old you are, but you act like a child sometimes."

"That's not an indication of age. I'm pretty sure you've thrown some tantrums."

"Are you free tonight," phone Kaori asks.

"She wants to meet up," I say. The doctor combats the mounting stress with another hand to her head. It's trying to work it all out. She has too many headaches and too many pills for those.

"Of course, she does," she says, "So congratulations, you've gotten lucky twice. Try to ease her into it this time, yeah? She may be dumb for liking you, but that doesn't mean she deserves to be scared to death."

"Such a vote of confidence. I wonder why I keep coming back."

"Your check at the front desk probably has something to do with it. Go on. Get out of here."

I flow to standing and move my piercings around. Sauvagess shudders again, but there's a smile in there now. She hates that it's there, and she hates that she opens her arms a bit. She doesn't hate the hug we share. I may be bad at easing people into me, I am a damn good hugger. It just takes a good long while for people to get there.

---

I don't like sitting in a chair. I'm sure it works for many, many people, but not me. From the highest pharaoh to the lowliest peasant, everyone likes a good sit. I just like my little pool in front of the TV. The windows are open. Someone's out there playing music a bit too loud. Someone else is screaming at them to turn it down. Then there's swearing and I think it was a bad call to do that. I should have shut it and kept everything calm and quiet. On the other hand, maybe the noise will serve as a nice distraction, keep her mind off it and me and find something else to do. I don't know. I really, really don't know. I even got some cups for her. Cheap things, but it's the best I could do on short notice.

There's a knock at the door and I jump. It's time. No clue what would happen, but I got this far. And that's much farther than I thought I could. At this point, I'm just coasting until I get to start again. The knock comes again and I have to answer it. Can't let her sit out there in the hallway forever. That's not what hallways are for.

"Hey," she says as I open the door.

"Hey," I reply. Can't really think of anything better to say. I might have had a whole speech planned, but it's out the window. Her shirt has a skull on it, painted with flowers and candy colors.

"Can I come in?" she asks. I move away from the threshold, and she walks in slowly.

"You got chairs," she says.

"Just some camping ones," I say, "Kind of the only thing I could get a hold of on the way back from the doctors. Do you want something to drink?"

She shakes her head. I don't grab anything for myself either. I don't need it. She takes a seat and so do I. Kaori looks so much better at it than I do.

"So," she says after a long, long moment, "I think I owe you an apology."

"No," I say, "No, you don't. I laid so much on you in a really short time, and I don't know what I expected. I'm honestly kind of surprised you reached out again."

"Yeah, me too. I just kept looking at your name in my phone and eventually it just won out. I wanted to talk to you again. I wanted to see you again."

She's playing with the edge of her skirt. It's hard not to notice the glimpses of her legs I get. Mostly because I can't bring myself to look her in the eye.

"Can you do that thing again?" she says, "I just have to know ."

I finally flow to standing. That's better. That's so much better. I get the appeal, but it's not for me. Chairs are terrible. I move mine away and fetch the pool from my bedroom. Tight fit, but I managed it. And now it's rolling along the floor before settling like a tossed quarter. A moment to step in and set up and I'm back to a simple puddle of goo in my own little world.

"What the fuck," she says. There's still a bit of panic and fear in there, but it's a lot more subdued. More just a general unease that everything's wrong, but there's nothing to be done. It can only be observed.

"Yeah," I babble, "Yeah, I get that."

"Can I poke you," she asks, "Like, will it burn?"

"I mean, remember. I fingered you in a movie theater. I'm still the same thing. Did it burn that time?"

She shakes her head and comes down to the carpet, on her knees. A single finger cautiously goes forward and pokes me on my edge. It sends out a ripple and that's fun. She giggles. She pokes a bit harder, and it tickles. One more, and then she reels back to sap me. I hold the imprint of her hand still but let all the other motions carry out.

"Sorry," she says, "I got a bit carried away."

I shrug as best I can. Kaori gets the message.

"I don't think I can be hurt. Physically. My doctor keeps joking about how she wants to shoot me and see if that does anything. Honestly, I kind of want to see what happens."

"Please don't get shot. It's one thing to take a slap, but a bullet would be a bit much. I wouldn't want you to be shot."

Its very nice to have someone in my life who doesn't want to shoot me. It's calming. It's reassuring. Kaori keeps circling her hands across my surface, like a kid playing in the bath. I keep the shapes she makes and twirl them into something else. Ripples and circles and squares and ovals, all of it overlaps and I am a water-based Zen garden. She's laughing again. I am apparently fun to play with. I'm a toy tin of goo to morph and shift, getting caught in the carpet and annoying the parents. I am full of stains, pulling off the paint, and sticking to hair. I should come with a warning and an intended age.

"Tell me," Kaori hums, "Am I giving you a hand job or something right now?"

"No clue," I shrug, "My everything is kind of everywhere."

"So, when we kissed, I also gave you a blow job?"

"In a sense. In my opinion, a blow job consists of more than just lip contact."

"That's fair. Does this feel good at least?"

I nod, and it takes a minute for her to interpret the motion. She doesn't stop it at any point. I don't think this is the equivalent for me, but it does feel good. It's a massage at best. It tickles and tingles and dances across me. The surface is calm. I am still and mirror smooth. I take in her hand and let it sink in. She pulls away and I let it go. It's hers, not mine. We can play tug of war later.

"I'm not sure how this would even work then," she sighs, "Sex, I mean. You could finger me again. Do you have fingers? We'll say you have fingers. But I'm not sure that would be good for you."

"I have some ideas. I've had to figure out what a lot of what I do counts as what."

"That makes me feel better, kind of. You're still a guy. You think about sex. You think about sex enough to come up with some weird things. Have you heard of a rainbow party?"

I shake my head and that gets across.

"Good. It's probably made up, but it's definitely a guy thing. No way anyone with half a brain would come up with that. That's a little head idea, not a big head one."