The Fool
“It’s all been pretty scary ain it?”
It spills out of his mouth before he has the chance to stop it. Everything that he’s been thinking and feeling for the last couple of days is suddenly there, forcing its way out of his mouth.
Stephen just looks at him as if he’s gone mad. And maybe he has. This isn’t what he does.
He doesn’t know how to do this; how to talk about what he’s feeling. He tries again; a tentative step to getting his feelings out into the open.
“You know, it’s not until you got bitten that I thought that one of us might actually die from doing this. It really upset me.”
“You must have gone through hell.”
“Yup.” And he smiles, because this is okay. This is really okay. The dismissive look has gone from Stephen’s eyes. Stephen’s joking, but he’s listening, responding. He can do this. He can tell someone how he feels. How scared he is. How scared he is for himself; how scared he is for them. For all of them.
How life will never be the same. How all the things he took for granted will now be considered, looked after, cared for. Told. How he’s figured out what’s important and what’s not. How he’s realised where he belongs.
“It did make me think about what’s important though. You know. Sorts out your priorities a bit.”
And then there’s that look again. He thought Stephen understood. Thought Stephen got him. And now he’s looking at him like he’s a fool.
But, no, that’s it. Stephen does understand and that’s why he’s doing this.
He is the fool. He’s the joker; the one they count on to lighten the mood when it’s too heavy. That's what he is to them. But it’s only because he can’t stand it. Can’t stand the tension. Has never been able to.
And he can’t stand it now. He pushes it down, hides it away; filed under “not needed around here thank you.” And he gives Stephen what he needs; the light relief in time of crisis.
He grins. The kind of grin that can talk him out of anything.
“If you get killed can I have your iPod?”
And it’s over, done. The moment is gone forever. They exchange smiles and will never talk of it again. One day it will be too late to talk for one, if not both of them, but for now life carries on.
It spills out of his mouth before he has the chance to stop it. Everything that he’s been thinking and feeling for the last couple of days is suddenly there, forcing its way out of his mouth.
Stephen just looks at him as if he’s gone mad. And maybe he has. This isn’t what he does.
He doesn’t know how to do this; how to talk about what he’s feeling. He tries again; a tentative step to getting his feelings out into the open.
“You know, it’s not until you got bitten that I thought that one of us might actually die from doing this. It really upset me.”
“You must have gone through hell.”
“Yup.” And he smiles, because this is okay. This is really okay. The dismissive look has gone from Stephen’s eyes. Stephen’s joking, but he’s listening, responding. He can do this. He can tell someone how he feels. How scared he is. How scared he is for himself; how scared he is for them. For all of them.
How life will never be the same. How all the things he took for granted will now be considered, looked after, cared for. Told. How he’s figured out what’s important and what’s not. How he’s realised where he belongs.
“It did make me think about what’s important though. You know. Sorts out your priorities a bit.”
And then there’s that look again. He thought Stephen understood. Thought Stephen got him. And now he’s looking at him like he’s a fool.
But, no, that’s it. Stephen does understand and that’s why he’s doing this.
He is the fool. He’s the joker; the one they count on to lighten the mood when it’s too heavy. That's what he is to them. But it’s only because he can’t stand it. Can’t stand the tension. Has never been able to.
And he can’t stand it now. He pushes it down, hides it away; filed under “not needed around here thank you.” And he gives Stephen what he needs; the light relief in time of crisis.
He grins. The kind of grin that can talk him out of anything.
“If you get killed can I have your iPod?”
And it’s over, done. The moment is gone forever. They exchange smiles and will never talk of it again. One day it will be too late to talk for one, if not both of them, but for now life carries on.