I Am Noman

[plaguedrat]

He's always preferred to own his books, but his refusal to seek out work and forge any real ties to the city have forced him to budget, to compromise. It's what takes him to the public library today. Signing up for a library card is different, he tries to convince himself. It's not as if it requires money, nor does he have to maintain it. It's different.

It's netted him a thick stack of books that he's negotiating into a bag while he sits on the steps. The acetate-bound copy of The Odyssey rests on his knees, the one he plans to read first.

Perhaps he's like Odysseus, trapped for years on an island and prolonging his foolish journey.

Comments

[silenttrainbaby]

All the things that Grey had been taught were more guile than force. He's strong, sure, but he's more fast, more wily. He nods, approving.

[plaguedrat]

Rat reads, leaned back against the cement stairs, continuing along with Odysseus' best act of cunning.

"If, then, no man does violence to thee in thy loneliness, sickness which comes from great Zeus thou mayest in no wise escape. Nay, do thou pray to our father, the lord Poseidon."

[silenttrainbaby]

Somewhere in there, Grey pulls that long-lasting bag of chocolate candies from his pocket. He takes one, letting it melt on his tongue as he holds it out for Rat.

[plaguedrat]

Caught up in reading, Rat almost doesn't notice, narrating Odysseus' daring escape. He takes pause and notices the chocolate, grabbing a few from Grey's palm.

"So they spoke, but they could not persuade my great-hearted spirit; and I answered him again with angry heart: “‘Cyclops, if any one of mortal men shall ask thee about the shameful blinding of thine eye, say that Odysseus, the sacker of cities, blinded it, even the son of Laertes, whose home is in Ithaca.’"

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey scritches the cat's ears. Oddyseus blinded him, brave like a great warrior. The idea makes him smile.

[plaguedrat]

Rat nods finds himself reaching out to rub the cat behind the ears too, forgetting to feign indifference to the creature.

"Thence we sailed on, grieved at heart, glad to have escaped death, though we had lost our dear comrades," Rat reads, concluding the chapter.

[silenttrainbaby]

Though we had lost our dear comrades ....

Grey lets his eyes close as faces flash in his mind's eye. Edgar, Tanya ... Gilliam.

All dear, all gone.

[plaguedrat]

Rat pauses, watching the shadow that passes over Grey's face. He raises an eyebrow in question, but lets Grey decide if he wants to explain or if he'd rather Rat continued to read.

[silenttrainbaby]

The name on his chest, over his heart, is covered by his bandage. But Grey touches it regardless. His eyes are sad when he opens them.

[plaguedrat]

On the edge of the bandage, he can see the tops of the script and he raises an eyebrow again. Whose name is that? What did that person mean to him? A friend or a lover? An enemy?

[silenttrainbaby]

How to describe it? Rat can see Grey scramble for a moment, mentally, to try to explain it.

He taps Rat's hand, curling a finger to get to his palm.

There, he spells, G-I-L-L-I-A-M.

Then he circles his finger in the air. Gilliam was everything.

[plaguedrat]

"Gilliam?" Rat repeats, trying to match a face to that name. "Who is he?"

[silenttrainbaby]

He was on the train. Grey points to that word on his arm. He died. That word is in script on Grey's arm. He taught Grey to fight. Another word. He taught Grey what love was.

Love isn't on his body. He taps over his heart again.

[plaguedrat]

"He...fought and died?" Rat asks. The touch to the heart, the placement of the name, implies a relationship. "You were lovers?"

He imagines Grey curled into someone's arms, strong and handsome, and finds he doesn't like that mental image.

[silenttrainbaby]

He wasn't physically strong, or whole, but he was the first person Grey loved. He nods.

The cat has gone a long way to help him feel less sad, less empty.

[plaguedrat]

"You miss him." It's not a question. It's written all over Grey's face without any ink.

Unconsciously, Rat lifts his right hand to touch his shoulder, to the thick scar that Shion gave him when the bullet was extracted.

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey does; he doesn't think to deny it. But his eyes follow the touch and he cocks his head in question.

[plaguedrat]

"Old scar," Rat says, putting his hand down too quickly.

[silenttrainbaby]

Come on, Rat. Grey shared with you and it's only fair. He touches, lightly, where Rat touched.

[plaguedrat]

Rat frowns, not as comfortable in being so forthcoming, but Grey is right.

"I was shot, the first time, when I was twelve. A boy named Shion took it out and stitched me up." He pulls aside the collar of his shirt to expose the damaged flesh.

[silenttrainbaby]

Without thinking anything of it, Grey touches the scar. It wasn't unlike what would happen on the train. Shion. His brows knit in question. Did Rat love Shion?

[plaguedrat]

He doesn't so much flinch as shudder. Grey's movement had been swift and smooth, touching a spot that's vulnerable in many ways.

As for the question of love...Rat looks down at his own hands. Yes. Yes he had.

[silenttrainbaby]

Grey points to a word on his arm again. Die.

Is Shion dead?

[plaguedrat]

That answer is also complicated. "Sort of. This...god brought him back to life."

[silenttrainbaby]

What? Gods, after all, aren't real.