6
He Knows
St. Matthew’s strikes the hour and I count every single dong. Eight in total. It marks the end of my last ever night shift. A few moments later, Sophia takes the seat beside me on Reception and begins questioning me about the strange boy I left with yesterday morning. I make up a story about him having been out clubbing all night, explaining that he was high. I apologise on his behalf and leave it at that. I daren’t tell her that the crazy boy is staying at my place.
She wants to chat about what I’ll be doing during my two weeks off, but all I can think about is getting home to Ray. It’s not like I’m never going to see her again. I’m taking over the 10:00-18:00 slot when I come back to work. Sophia only works part-time, covering the 08:00-10:00 slot, so I’ll still get to see her at the handover each day, just at the start of my shift, instead of the end.
I tell her I have no plans for my time off, just so I can keep the chat to a minimum and I grab my things and prepare to leave.
“See you later, Soph. Arrivederci.”
“A dopo,” she replies, giving me an air kiss either side of my face.
I rush home as fast as I can without actually breaking into a sprint. The apartment block is only around the corner from the hotel, but every step I take is laden with guilt. It’s not just the regrettable stolen kiss that’s been replaying in my mind all night. I can’t get over how vulnerable he appeared in those last moments before sleep took him. The whimpering, the tears, the pleas for me to stay with him—I wish I knew what was troubling him so much. He seems so out of place, so lost and alone.
When the elevator reaches the third floor, I step out to a strange din coming from the vicinity of my apartment. I hasten to my front door. I can hear singing from within. I insert my key and enter to find Ray dancing in front of the TV, singing a weird song I’m not familiar with. I listen for a few seconds, trying to make out the words. It sounds like he’s singing something about “a dame.” Whatever it is, it sounds like some song out of ancient history, with a full onscreen chorus backing him up.
“Good morning, Blake!” he chirps.
I go over to stand behind him, observing the logo in the top right-hand corner of the screen. “You’re watching the OMG channel?” I sneer. “I think I might have to confiscate the remote.”
Old Movie Greats runs wall-to-wall musicals from Hollywood’s heyday and I’m pretty sure that’s before even my mother was born. It’s embarrassing to have my neighbours think I’m watching this stuff.
“It’s great, isn’t it?” Ray enthuses.
“Nope!” I say, grabbing the remote and turning the volume down.
“Oh come on, you must like this movie,” he insists, his eyes aglow with excitement. “How could you not? It’s so much fun.”
“What the hell is it?”
“It’s called South Pacific.”
“Never heard of it. Has it got anyone famous in it?”
He shrugs. “How should I know? Who was famous then?”
“The only two famous people I know from that era are Marilyn Monroe and Elvis Presley. If they’re not in it, forget it.”
“To tell you the truth I was just skimming through the channels, looking for something different to watch for a change from Bell End. I thought South Pacific was a documentary, but once I started watching it I couldn’t take my eyes off it. We don’t have anything like this where I come from.”
Where you come from?
It’s the opening I’ve been waiting for. Now I can ask him without it sounding like I’m prying, since he’s the one who brought the subject up.
“So, where do you come from?”
He gives me a teasing grin. “You already know.”
“Do I?” I say, unconvinced.
“You said it yourself when we were sitting outside the café.”
“Remind me.”
“When I told you there are no girls where I come from, you said I must live in the back of beyond.”
“And where’s the back of beyond when it’s at home?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“You’re so out of place here that if you told me you came from Never Never Land I’d believe you. I wish I could get inside that head of yours and see what the hell’s going on.”
He smiles. “I’m really just a simple creature with simple needs.”
“And yet you seem to have something against falling asleep,” I point out.
He shrugs. “I had a very long journey to get here. I was not quite myself yesterday.”
“So how did you sleep in the end?”
“How?” he repeats, frowning. “I closed my eyes, like you said.”
My heart flutters. “Oh, so you remember our conversation last night?”
He nods. “I understand how my circadian rhythm works now. I won’t be afraid to fall asleep anymore, so you won’t have to hold my hand in future.”
He smirks at me and I feel myself blush. I’m almost afraid to ask the next question, but I have to know. “Is there…anything else you remember from last night?”
He shrugs. “Like what?”
I scan his face, certain that he must remember, but maybe he’d already slipped into unconsciousness.
“Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Are you hungry?”
“Famished.”
“It’s your breakfast time and my dinner time, so how are we going to work this?” I think for a moment. “How about bacon and eggs?”
“I’ll eat anything,” he tells me.
“What do you normally have for breakfast when you’re at home?”
He smiles to himself.
“What?” I ask, intrigued. “Did I say something funny?”
“Things are so different where I’m from. I wish I could show you my own reality.”
“Then why don’t you? I’m off work now for two whole weeks. I’d love to go on a trip with you.”
He gazes at me thoughtfully and then slowly leans in to whisper hot breath against my ear. “Friend Blake, if I took you home, if I showed you the truth of my existence, you might never want to kiss me again.”
I gasp out loud. He knows. Oh my god, he knows! I twist my head to look at him and that smirk is back on his face. Look at him! He knows I kissed him and he’s laughing at me.
“I’m parched,” he says nonchalantly. “I’d love one of those sugary coffees, if you wouldn’t mind.”
I nod. I’m suddenly feeling rather parched myself. My tongue seems to have stuck to the roof of my mouth. I shuffle through to the kitchen and he turns the sound back up on the TV, settling back down to watch the movie.
Nothing more is said about the kiss.
For now, at least.