Pictures of You - part 1 (unedited version for comments)
Today's Poem
The same like some days before, included in the story.
Today's Ranting
Here's the complete, but unedited version of the first chapter.
Rating: PG-13 or R (I'm not quite sure yet. You could help me with this after the chapter, it's the most "graphic".)
Warning: Mention of a (sexual) relation between two men, bad language, cigarettes and (later) disturbing matters.
The Lyrics belong to Robert Smith.
Pictures of You
By Chanadé Scriva
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel
I.
One by one, Jon pulled the pictures from the wall, the silent companions of the past years: Mum, Dad, Jaz and little Jon - such a happy family. Proud Jaz carrying a crying, red-faced Baby-Jon - what loving brother. Jaz disguised as a horse carrying the five-years-old Sir Jon - Most of Jon’s memories showed Jaz somehow disguised, playing roles. Thirteen years-old Jaz playing guitar in company of an enchanted listening little Jon - five years could be an eternity. It was now as true as back then. Jaz as a fourteen-years-old punk - when did it start, that the city grew too tight for him? Jaz as the prince of darkness with spiders in his hair and heavy make up - the last time someone permit him to take part at the school theatre.
Carefully, Jon laid the pictures in the cardboard box. Then he continued with the wallpapers: The Princes of Darkness in concert. They had been a local success in the London gothic scene. Not as much as Jaz had expected and hoped, but that had never been his fault. That had been Brian’s fault, because he was jealous and a pompous ass, and made the band break up before they had any chance to become really famous. Brian - the real Prince of Darkness, with his incredible power over Jaz, Brian who hadn’t even shown up to the funeral, Brian who had brought them Jaz’ things, the clothes, the pictures, the books, all scores and his guitar, everything, and just set it on the porch with a little letter. Like some vampire leaves behind the empty skin of his prey.
And it had been up to Jon to save most of it from the garbage where his old man had thrown it. The old man had considered Jaz’ dead as a personal attack from his failure of a son, and he had forbidden anyone to ever mention his name again. And the knowledge that everyone in the neighbourhood had heard the truth hadn’t done any favour to his short temper, and he had grown more violent than before.
Now he was also dead. It came back to Jon’s mind while he was rolling up the wallpapers. The reaper man disguised as a racing car had caught him on a nightly street, both of them, the driver and his old man, drunk like the devil. Despite anything and the clear memories of the swirling belt, Jon was hit by his dead and still felt strange about it. Maybe because he hadn’t seen it with his eyes, like he hadn’t seen Jaz’ dead. Thing happening out of his sight always appeared like dreams to him, unreal situation, as unreal as the idea that his mum had moved over to London.
Why of all cities London? Jon hated London with a passion unusual for him. London had been the drug Jaz had been addicted to. London had stolen and killed his brother.
"Jonathan Garfield." The guardian announced his presence, and Jon took his box under the arm. It was time.
While following the guardian out of the place where he had passed more than three years of his life, clutching the box as if it was his only hold, he admitted to himself that he was purely and simply scared. It was so much more easier to deal with everything when he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it. In the same way as he couldn’t do anything about dreams. But now he would be forced to make plans for the future, plans for a life without Jaz. Since the moment he was told that the rest of the six years was suspended on probation, the fear about this had gripped him. He had even considered to provoke an incident to prove everyone that he was still dangerous, but had never given this idea any serious thought.
Now it was too late to stop it, anyway, now he could only follow the guardian, signing when he got back other personal things and then step through the gate.
The weather with some sense of irony had decided to offer him the whole picture of the sunny spring. It smelled sweet flowers, even at the place before the prison. The sky seemed bluer than ever, the clouds fluffier than ever, this kind of clouds reminding someone of children stories about cloudy sheep. And in the midst of it, his mum appeared like the special charm of this day itself, leaving him speechless. He had only known her like someone faded, friendly and warm, though, but faded, washed out. A little mouse in the shadow of this noisy man that had been his father, and even during her past visits he hadn’t noticed the change. But now she wore clothes in warm colours that made her glowing, accentuating the rich brown of her hair, laughing at the few slivery strands in it. And her smile was brighter as the sun.
He had just enough time to put the box on the ground, before she reached him.
"Jon, I’m so happy to see you." Her embrace took away a bit from the fear, and at its place, Jon felt a strange knot in his throat. His eyes were burning, and he swallowed.
"Hi, mum!" He mumbled after a while, still holding her, or being held by her.
"What do you think about having some tea?" She asked with a cheerfulness that sounded unshed tears of joy.
He would do anything for just sitting close to her, hearing her voice and sensing her love. The times when she had visited him in jail were nothing in comparison with this moment.
"Sounds nice, mum." Jon said, breaking the embrace, then picking up the box again.
She took his arm, gazing up to him with this happy smile and shiny eyes. "I have thought that we stay here for the night, and part for London tomorrow." Jon kept on his own smile with difficulties, he didn’t want to hear anything about London. "I’m so glad that Brian had some free days and took me with his car."
Who? Shocked, Jon froze all of sudden. "What Brian are you talking about?"
"Brian Lee, one of Jaz’ friends." No trace of irritation crossed her face, while she dragged Jon with her. Brian - one of Jaz’ friends? He still believed in an acoustic deception, until he found out where she was drawing him, not leaving any doubt. "There he is."
While anger choke him, Jon let himself lead by his mum to the oldest car he had ever seen. But this was not the point, the point was the man leaning against it. Still young looking, and clad in dark clothes, Jon recognised him despite the changed hairdo. At the place of the former crows nest, he wore now black, blue and purple spikes, but it didn’t make so many difference. And after three years of looking at the Princes of Darkness, Jon knew even this face at heart, the Asian treat in his features, the dark eyes now hidden by sunglasses. What did Jaz ever see in this guy? He wasn’t even really pretty. When they reached him, he dropped the cigarette he had been smoking and took off his sunglasses.
"Hi!" He said with a somewhat tensed smile. Good, thought Jon, I’m not the only one feeling uncomfortable. "I suppose you remember me."
Oh yes, but the image flashing through Jon’s mind wasn’t related to their normal meetings. Like a movie, Jon’s inner eye projected the memory of this other day, ten years ago, when he had come to London the first time - a visit meant to surprise Jaz’ and to show him that he wasn’t a kid anymore. Jaz’s flatmates had sent him upstairs, knowing what happened there. From the open door, Jon had seen Jaz and the other person and Jaz’ hands buried in the fuss of black hair. And his brother had spilled out all these sentences Jon had known from secretly watched porn videos: "Yes, love." - "You are so good, love." - "Yes, keep doing this.", his voice growing harsh and breathless, until it had ended with the hoarse cry: "Oh god, Brian, I love you." Unforgettable moment, and Jon had run for hours through the city to get over this. [Is it evident what happened, or do I have to say more?]
"Yes." Jon answered now, gloomily, chasing these pictures away. "I remember."
"Come on, boys, let’s go into a café." His mum interfered. "There we can speak more calmly."
"Missis Garfield." Brian replied. "I think it is better when the both of you pass this day alone. If you want we can meet at the hotel for dinner, but until then -"
"But, Brian, what will you do the whole time?"
Jon glanced suspiciously at him while Brian told his mum. "Don’t worry for me, Missis Garfield. I will find something to keep me occupied, but I could drive you in the inner city."
Jon let them debate the question, then obeyed silently when his mum gently shoved him towards the backseat. The only reason why he didn’t explode was her bright face. And once more he clutched his box while staring grimly at Brian’s neck. He had noticed those short glance at the box, and a tightening of his jaw, but these traces of unease were not enough to make him feel better. And Jon answered the questions of his mum just with "yes" or "no", barely hearing what she asked.
Why of all people was it Brian who accompanied his mum? And their manner of talking to each other, how she showed him places of the city manifested a complicity Jon considered dreadful. The vampire had not only destroyed Jaz, now he was even trying to get his place in his mum’s heart.
"Did you sell the house?" Jon asked suddenly; reminding his mum of her family should break the charm.
"Yes," His mum answered quietly. "it was the best."
"You didn’t think that I would want to keep it." He was unfair now, he knew it, because they had spoken about the future once she visited him, and his only reaction was indifference. And at this moment, he really hadn’t cared about the house, or what she would do with it. He even remembered that she had asked him what he thought about selling the house, and he had just told her to do with it whatever she wanted.
Now she looked back at him thoughtfully and somewhat sad. For a second, Jon believed to see a shadow of her former mousiness, and he immediately regretted his harshness. Reminding her of the old man was nothing he wanted, not really. But before he could open his mouth, she just smiled at him. "I’m very sorry, Jon, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I hadn’t wanted to stay there, and I needed money. It seemed a good idea to me."
Then they reached a parking lot in the inner city where Brian parked the car. He wished them a nice day, and Jon followed his mother wherever she wanted to lead him. After a minute, he realised that he had forgotten his cardboard box, and considered returning, but it was silly and he knew it. Even if the damned vampire might look inside, he wouldn’t throw it away, because it would ruin the pretty facade he had put on for Jon’s mum.
It was the café where they had been very often when Jon was a kid. Their weekly Sunday ritual consisted in going to church in the morning, then making a little excursion after lunch, anywhere, in the zoo or in a park, but they would always end up in this café. Mum and Dad and Jaz and Jon - the whole happy family. But it had ended very soon when his old man had lost his job.
"I always hoped that we would go to this café one day. I hoped whenever your father got a new job, we would do it again, and everything would be alright." His mum said with a sad voice while they were sitting at one of the outdoor tables, and Jon sensed a tiny piercing. He had never really thought how his mother had felt about her life. She had always been there, a granted warmth that gave comfort and soothed the hurts caused by the old man. Now as changed as she was, he suddenly perceived her as a person with her own hopes and dreams, not only centred around her children, her husband and the always chattering neighbourhood.
Then the coffee came, she chased the melancholy away with a smile, and started to speak about London, and her nice new apartment, her job, her new friends and Elli.
"Who is this Elli?" Jon asked.
"Brian’s mother, she -"
The peaceful happiness flew away at the mention of this name. Jon slapped with the flat hand on the small table, making coffee flood the boards of the cups. "What the hell is with this asshole that he is suddenly such a close friend of the family?" He yelled.
There it was again, a glimpse of fear in her eyes, but fast and bravely fought. "Jon, you should watch your language." She answered calmly. "When your father died," It was the second time that she called the old man his father. "I was so alone. The neighbours, you know them good enough, treated me like a pariah - the impossible woman whose children turned out a pervert and a criminal. You should think that unhappy people would help each other, but they just take their strength from looking down at people more miserable than themselves. I had no idea what I should do with my life, and then, one day, Brian showed up. He told me who he was and that he wanted to offer any help I might need. At first, I asked him to take me to London to visit Jaz’ grave which I have only seen twice. You know, he had taken care of it all this time." To Jon’s surprise, she giggled. "He had planted white Lilies and Chrysanthemum, all these flowers symbolising dead Jaz had decided to love. Jaz who couldn’t keep alive any flower. And so, I found out that there was a person who had known Jaz very good and had loved him. He introduced me to his family, and Elli, his mother, was a real help in this time."
"Why didn’t you tell me before that you know him? I could have told you the truth about him." Jon brought forth, his teeth gritted.
"Oh, you know it. I wasn’t sure how I should tell it to you, but before he left for London, Jaz told us, me and your father, that he liked boys more than girls. In fact, this was the reason why he left, because your father promised to get him rid of these foolish ideas. Of course, I was shocked at first, but with the time, I’ve got used to the idea. So, Brian wasn’t just a simple friend of Jaz, but -."
"I know it, mum," Jon interrupted her, accentuating every word. "I saw them together. And I know what asshole this chap is. It’s his fault that Jaz died."
"But Jon -"
"And you are so wrong, when you think that I would stand one single minute in his presence. And I won’t certainly not go with his car."
He left her alone in the café with the memories of better times. Whatever she would say, he know it would just fuel his anger. The damned vampire had poisoned her thoughts, she would only know how evil he was when Jon proved it to her.
Childish, he thought after a while, it was the most childish reaction he could imagine. Running away and pout, as if he was just five years old. But he didn’t want to return and apologise. Just a few hours alone that was what he needed. Jon hadn’t even imagined in his dreams that such a shadow would fall over his first day as a free man, that he would argue with his mum instead of enjoying her company. Though, he just couldn’t deal now with Brian being here and bringing back all the memories, not only this one dreadful moment, but everything, just because he was still living and breathing while Jaz was dead. Dead, dead, dead - Jon sung it like a mantra, but never really grasped it.
"Jon?" A female voice called for his attention while he was walking like a blind along the stores and houses. "Jonathan Garfield?"
He looked back and discovered a person whom to see was even worse than meeting Brian Lee. It was Suzy, his girlfriend, no, he reminded himself quickly, his ex-girlfriend, because she had broken up with him while he was in jail. Running into old flames pushed the level of discomfort a bit higher, because it meant answering questions and knowing that within a half of a day the news would make the round. And the second time in just an hour, Jon ran away.
The cemetery appeared like a place safe from old acquaintances. At this hour, only old people would visit it, and he feared them less than so-called old friends, or schoolmates, or ex-girlfriends.
The cemetery had become Jaz’ favourite place after discovering his love for the dark. On a bench in the older part of the cemetery, aside the statue of a weathered stone angel, he had written his songs, or had read gothic or vampire novels. Contrary to the surroundings, it was a sunny place, almost reminding of a park. After Jaz’ depart for London, Jon had come to this place quite often when he had wanted to feel close to his brother, or when the old man had one more time lost his temper. He thought this spot could do him good. Later, he should be able to apologise to his mum, and maybe it would even help him to tolerate a dinner with Brian.
But Brian was the unpredictable factor, and now, he occupied exactly the place Jon needed for his inner balance. Unmistakable with his tricolour hair, he was sitting on the bench, head phones on his ears and a walkman in his hands. His eyes were closed, but he smiled in the sun. He dared to smile, the bastard, he dared to enjoy his life and the sun, and -
"Mm?" The eyes snapped open, and Brian turned his head towards Jon. For a second, he looked outright pissed, then he took off his head phones and pressed the stop button of the walkman.
"What are you doing here?" Jon asked when the first shock went by.
"This is a public place."
"You know what I mean. And how do you know about this place anyway?"
This time, Brian rolled his eyes, and Jon remembered that arrogance was another treat of his character he deeply disliked. At the first real meeting when Jaz’ had introduced them to each other, Jon had used the time Brian was looking for drinks to express his shock, not so much about the fact that Jaz had called him "love", but about the fact that he was a bloody Chinky. And this bloody Chinky had heard him and had told him arrogantly like shit: "It’s not China, little one, it’s Vietnam." For the "little one" as much as for this disdain, Jon had wanted to kill him. They looked all the same anyway.
And now Brian said calmly: "Why do you ask me a question when you know the answer already?"
"You are such an asshole."
"A fool recognises a fool." Brian answered nonchalantly. You just don’t have to beat people on cemeteries. That was the only reason why Jon only bit his lower lip and glared daggers at the other chap, instead of punching him. And Brian rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Listen, I’m sorry. I can imagine that this is no easy day for you, and I know I don’t make it better. I have no idea why, but it seems as if we start fighting every time we met. What do you think about having some sort of cease fire, just for the travel."
"If you think that I would go to London with you, you are so damned wrong."
Brian glanced up to him, honestly surprised.
"Don’t you get it? It has nothing to do with me. I’m just the bloody taxi driver. It’s for your mum, she wants to show you her new life, her new apartment and just spend some days with you. You have your whole life to make whatever you want. What does it bother you to give her just this time?"
"Amen!" Jon replied dryly, understanding that Brian got a point, but it wouldn’t be half as problematic if the bloody taxi driver weren’t him.
"God, sorry. The teacher awakes in every word."
"You are a teacher?"
"Yes, for music, mostly guitar and drums." While he spoke, the shadow came back to the sunny place. Music was a bad topic, too close to the object of friction, and Brian must have felt it, because he got up from the bench, saying quietly: "I think I will leave this place to you. Did your mum return to the hotel?"
"I have no idea." Jon replied with offensive sharpness, and Brian shrugged, then he put on his headphones and hung the walkman on his belt. Nodding shortly towards Jon, he left him alone, hands in the pockets.
Relieved and strangely touched at the same time, Jon let himself sink on the bench. Somehow, the place had lost its charm, or was it just broken by the knowledge that Jaz’ had shared this secret with Brian? Like anything else. Jon didn’t understand. He had heard them throw at each other’s heads the worst words he knew, and Jaz himself had told him that Brian drove him nuts. But at the same time, he had let him spoil every part of his life.
Why for fuck’s sake?
Jon heard the footsteps even before Brian reappeared again. This time, it was up to him to look pissed, because he felt interrupted in his thinking.
"I forgot to tell you something. I’m so glad that you kept the photos and the wallpapers." Brian said to him, his voice sounding much younger as nervous as he appeared.
Jon didn’t answer, somewhat satisfied that, in this special case, he hadn’t been mistaken. Now he waited for Brian to depart again, the chap having expressed his gratefulness.
But Brian stayed, and continued speaking: "That day - I have been here for hours, arguing with myself that I should at least have some words with you. Though, I couldn’t do it, I didn’t know how to tell you that I just couldn’t stand to see his things in our apartment and the apartment itself. And later when he passed by your house, just to have a look, I saw your father throwing the things in the dustbin. And I hadn’t known before that I could feel worse than I already felt. I don’t know if it changes anything for you. I just wanted to tell you."
This time, Brian didn’t even wait for Jon to say something, but putting on his sunglasses, he departed faster than before. Jon looked at the way where he had disappeared, not knowing what to think. Finally, his eyes wandered to the hidden stone angel - a heavenly face touched by the time and the weather.
The idea of a cease fire sounded not too bad since the vampire had manifested some symptoms of affection by the dead of his prey.
~ End of chapter 1 ~
This is a non-edited version of the chapter. I'm conscient of the flaws, but comments, especially concerning stylistic problems are really appreciated.
The same like some days before, included in the story.
Today's Ranting
Here's the complete, but unedited version of the first chapter.
Rating: PG-13 or R (I'm not quite sure yet. You could help me with this after the chapter, it's the most "graphic".)
Warning: Mention of a (sexual) relation between two men, bad language, cigarettes and (later) disturbing matters.
The Lyrics belong to Robert Smith.
Pictures of You
By Chanadé Scriva
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures are
All I can feel
I.
One by one, Jon pulled the pictures from the wall, the silent companions of the past years: Mum, Dad, Jaz and little Jon - such a happy family. Proud Jaz carrying a crying, red-faced Baby-Jon - what loving brother. Jaz disguised as a horse carrying the five-years-old Sir Jon - Most of Jon’s memories showed Jaz somehow disguised, playing roles. Thirteen years-old Jaz playing guitar in company of an enchanted listening little Jon - five years could be an eternity. It was now as true as back then. Jaz as a fourteen-years-old punk - when did it start, that the city grew too tight for him? Jaz as the prince of darkness with spiders in his hair and heavy make up - the last time someone permit him to take part at the school theatre.
Carefully, Jon laid the pictures in the cardboard box. Then he continued with the wallpapers: The Princes of Darkness in concert. They had been a local success in the London gothic scene. Not as much as Jaz had expected and hoped, but that had never been his fault. That had been Brian’s fault, because he was jealous and a pompous ass, and made the band break up before they had any chance to become really famous. Brian - the real Prince of Darkness, with his incredible power over Jaz, Brian who hadn’t even shown up to the funeral, Brian who had brought them Jaz’ things, the clothes, the pictures, the books, all scores and his guitar, everything, and just set it on the porch with a little letter. Like some vampire leaves behind the empty skin of his prey.
And it had been up to Jon to save most of it from the garbage where his old man had thrown it. The old man had considered Jaz’ dead as a personal attack from his failure of a son, and he had forbidden anyone to ever mention his name again. And the knowledge that everyone in the neighbourhood had heard the truth hadn’t done any favour to his short temper, and he had grown more violent than before.
Now he was also dead. It came back to Jon’s mind while he was rolling up the wallpapers. The reaper man disguised as a racing car had caught him on a nightly street, both of them, the driver and his old man, drunk like the devil. Despite anything and the clear memories of the swirling belt, Jon was hit by his dead and still felt strange about it. Maybe because he hadn’t seen it with his eyes, like he hadn’t seen Jaz’ dead. Thing happening out of his sight always appeared like dreams to him, unreal situation, as unreal as the idea that his mum had moved over to London.
Why of all cities London? Jon hated London with a passion unusual for him. London had been the drug Jaz had been addicted to. London had stolen and killed his brother.
"Jonathan Garfield." The guardian announced his presence, and Jon took his box under the arm. It was time.
While following the guardian out of the place where he had passed more than three years of his life, clutching the box as if it was his only hold, he admitted to himself that he was purely and simply scared. It was so much more easier to deal with everything when he knew that he couldn’t do anything about it. In the same way as he couldn’t do anything about dreams. But now he would be forced to make plans for the future, plans for a life without Jaz. Since the moment he was told that the rest of the six years was suspended on probation, the fear about this had gripped him. He had even considered to provoke an incident to prove everyone that he was still dangerous, but had never given this idea any serious thought.
Now it was too late to stop it, anyway, now he could only follow the guardian, signing when he got back other personal things and then step through the gate.
The weather with some sense of irony had decided to offer him the whole picture of the sunny spring. It smelled sweet flowers, even at the place before the prison. The sky seemed bluer than ever, the clouds fluffier than ever, this kind of clouds reminding someone of children stories about cloudy sheep. And in the midst of it, his mum appeared like the special charm of this day itself, leaving him speechless. He had only known her like someone faded, friendly and warm, though, but faded, washed out. A little mouse in the shadow of this noisy man that had been his father, and even during her past visits he hadn’t noticed the change. But now she wore clothes in warm colours that made her glowing, accentuating the rich brown of her hair, laughing at the few slivery strands in it. And her smile was brighter as the sun.
He had just enough time to put the box on the ground, before she reached him.
"Jon, I’m so happy to see you." Her embrace took away a bit from the fear, and at its place, Jon felt a strange knot in his throat. His eyes were burning, and he swallowed.
"Hi, mum!" He mumbled after a while, still holding her, or being held by her.
"What do you think about having some tea?" She asked with a cheerfulness that sounded unshed tears of joy.
He would do anything for just sitting close to her, hearing her voice and sensing her love. The times when she had visited him in jail were nothing in comparison with this moment.
"Sounds nice, mum." Jon said, breaking the embrace, then picking up the box again.
She took his arm, gazing up to him with this happy smile and shiny eyes. "I have thought that we stay here for the night, and part for London tomorrow." Jon kept on his own smile with difficulties, he didn’t want to hear anything about London. "I’m so glad that Brian had some free days and took me with his car."
Who? Shocked, Jon froze all of sudden. "What Brian are you talking about?"
"Brian Lee, one of Jaz’ friends." No trace of irritation crossed her face, while she dragged Jon with her. Brian - one of Jaz’ friends? He still believed in an acoustic deception, until he found out where she was drawing him, not leaving any doubt. "There he is."
While anger choke him, Jon let himself lead by his mum to the oldest car he had ever seen. But this was not the point, the point was the man leaning against it. Still young looking, and clad in dark clothes, Jon recognised him despite the changed hairdo. At the place of the former crows nest, he wore now black, blue and purple spikes, but it didn’t make so many difference. And after three years of looking at the Princes of Darkness, Jon knew even this face at heart, the Asian treat in his features, the dark eyes now hidden by sunglasses. What did Jaz ever see in this guy? He wasn’t even really pretty. When they reached him, he dropped the cigarette he had been smoking and took off his sunglasses.
"Hi!" He said with a somewhat tensed smile. Good, thought Jon, I’m not the only one feeling uncomfortable. "I suppose you remember me."
Oh yes, but the image flashing through Jon’s mind wasn’t related to their normal meetings. Like a movie, Jon’s inner eye projected the memory of this other day, ten years ago, when he had come to London the first time - a visit meant to surprise Jaz’ and to show him that he wasn’t a kid anymore. Jaz’s flatmates had sent him upstairs, knowing what happened there. From the open door, Jon had seen Jaz and the other person and Jaz’ hands buried in the fuss of black hair. And his brother had spilled out all these sentences Jon had known from secretly watched porn videos: "Yes, love." - "You are so good, love." - "Yes, keep doing this.", his voice growing harsh and breathless, until it had ended with the hoarse cry: "Oh god, Brian, I love you." Unforgettable moment, and Jon had run for hours through the city to get over this. [Is it evident what happened, or do I have to say more?]
"Yes." Jon answered now, gloomily, chasing these pictures away. "I remember."
"Come on, boys, let’s go into a café." His mum interfered. "There we can speak more calmly."
"Missis Garfield." Brian replied. "I think it is better when the both of you pass this day alone. If you want we can meet at the hotel for dinner, but until then -"
"But, Brian, what will you do the whole time?"
Jon glanced suspiciously at him while Brian told his mum. "Don’t worry for me, Missis Garfield. I will find something to keep me occupied, but I could drive you in the inner city."
Jon let them debate the question, then obeyed silently when his mum gently shoved him towards the backseat. The only reason why he didn’t explode was her bright face. And once more he clutched his box while staring grimly at Brian’s neck. He had noticed those short glance at the box, and a tightening of his jaw, but these traces of unease were not enough to make him feel better. And Jon answered the questions of his mum just with "yes" or "no", barely hearing what she asked.
Why of all people was it Brian who accompanied his mum? And their manner of talking to each other, how she showed him places of the city manifested a complicity Jon considered dreadful. The vampire had not only destroyed Jaz, now he was even trying to get his place in his mum’s heart.
"Did you sell the house?" Jon asked suddenly; reminding his mum of her family should break the charm.
"Yes," His mum answered quietly. "it was the best."
"You didn’t think that I would want to keep it." He was unfair now, he knew it, because they had spoken about the future once she visited him, and his only reaction was indifference. And at this moment, he really hadn’t cared about the house, or what she would do with it. He even remembered that she had asked him what he thought about selling the house, and he had just told her to do with it whatever she wanted.
Now she looked back at him thoughtfully and somewhat sad. For a second, Jon believed to see a shadow of her former mousiness, and he immediately regretted his harshness. Reminding her of the old man was nothing he wanted, not really. But before he could open his mouth, she just smiled at him. "I’m very sorry, Jon, but I didn’t know what to do with it. I hadn’t wanted to stay there, and I needed money. It seemed a good idea to me."
Then they reached a parking lot in the inner city where Brian parked the car. He wished them a nice day, and Jon followed his mother wherever she wanted to lead him. After a minute, he realised that he had forgotten his cardboard box, and considered returning, but it was silly and he knew it. Even if the damned vampire might look inside, he wouldn’t throw it away, because it would ruin the pretty facade he had put on for Jon’s mum.
It was the café where they had been very often when Jon was a kid. Their weekly Sunday ritual consisted in going to church in the morning, then making a little excursion after lunch, anywhere, in the zoo or in a park, but they would always end up in this café. Mum and Dad and Jaz and Jon - the whole happy family. But it had ended very soon when his old man had lost his job.
"I always hoped that we would go to this café one day. I hoped whenever your father got a new job, we would do it again, and everything would be alright." His mum said with a sad voice while they were sitting at one of the outdoor tables, and Jon sensed a tiny piercing. He had never really thought how his mother had felt about her life. She had always been there, a granted warmth that gave comfort and soothed the hurts caused by the old man. Now as changed as she was, he suddenly perceived her as a person with her own hopes and dreams, not only centred around her children, her husband and the always chattering neighbourhood.
Then the coffee came, she chased the melancholy away with a smile, and started to speak about London, and her nice new apartment, her job, her new friends and Elli.
"Who is this Elli?" Jon asked.
"Brian’s mother, she -"
The peaceful happiness flew away at the mention of this name. Jon slapped with the flat hand on the small table, making coffee flood the boards of the cups. "What the hell is with this asshole that he is suddenly such a close friend of the family?" He yelled.
There it was again, a glimpse of fear in her eyes, but fast and bravely fought. "Jon, you should watch your language." She answered calmly. "When your father died," It was the second time that she called the old man his father. "I was so alone. The neighbours, you know them good enough, treated me like a pariah - the impossible woman whose children turned out a pervert and a criminal. You should think that unhappy people would help each other, but they just take their strength from looking down at people more miserable than themselves. I had no idea what I should do with my life, and then, one day, Brian showed up. He told me who he was and that he wanted to offer any help I might need. At first, I asked him to take me to London to visit Jaz’ grave which I have only seen twice. You know, he had taken care of it all this time." To Jon’s surprise, she giggled. "He had planted white Lilies and Chrysanthemum, all these flowers symbolising dead Jaz had decided to love. Jaz who couldn’t keep alive any flower. And so, I found out that there was a person who had known Jaz very good and had loved him. He introduced me to his family, and Elli, his mother, was a real help in this time."
"Why didn’t you tell me before that you know him? I could have told you the truth about him." Jon brought forth, his teeth gritted.
"Oh, you know it. I wasn’t sure how I should tell it to you, but before he left for London, Jaz told us, me and your father, that he liked boys more than girls. In fact, this was the reason why he left, because your father promised to get him rid of these foolish ideas. Of course, I was shocked at first, but with the time, I’ve got used to the idea. So, Brian wasn’t just a simple friend of Jaz, but -."
"I know it, mum," Jon interrupted her, accentuating every word. "I saw them together. And I know what asshole this chap is. It’s his fault that Jaz died."
"But Jon -"
"And you are so wrong, when you think that I would stand one single minute in his presence. And I won’t certainly not go with his car."
He left her alone in the café with the memories of better times. Whatever she would say, he know it would just fuel his anger. The damned vampire had poisoned her thoughts, she would only know how evil he was when Jon proved it to her.
Childish, he thought after a while, it was the most childish reaction he could imagine. Running away and pout, as if he was just five years old. But he didn’t want to return and apologise. Just a few hours alone that was what he needed. Jon hadn’t even imagined in his dreams that such a shadow would fall over his first day as a free man, that he would argue with his mum instead of enjoying her company. Though, he just couldn’t deal now with Brian being here and bringing back all the memories, not only this one dreadful moment, but everything, just because he was still living and breathing while Jaz was dead. Dead, dead, dead - Jon sung it like a mantra, but never really grasped it.
"Jon?" A female voice called for his attention while he was walking like a blind along the stores and houses. "Jonathan Garfield?"
He looked back and discovered a person whom to see was even worse than meeting Brian Lee. It was Suzy, his girlfriend, no, he reminded himself quickly, his ex-girlfriend, because she had broken up with him while he was in jail. Running into old flames pushed the level of discomfort a bit higher, because it meant answering questions and knowing that within a half of a day the news would make the round. And the second time in just an hour, Jon ran away.
The cemetery appeared like a place safe from old acquaintances. At this hour, only old people would visit it, and he feared them less than so-called old friends, or schoolmates, or ex-girlfriends.
The cemetery had become Jaz’ favourite place after discovering his love for the dark. On a bench in the older part of the cemetery, aside the statue of a weathered stone angel, he had written his songs, or had read gothic or vampire novels. Contrary to the surroundings, it was a sunny place, almost reminding of a park. After Jaz’ depart for London, Jon had come to this place quite often when he had wanted to feel close to his brother, or when the old man had one more time lost his temper. He thought this spot could do him good. Later, he should be able to apologise to his mum, and maybe it would even help him to tolerate a dinner with Brian.
But Brian was the unpredictable factor, and now, he occupied exactly the place Jon needed for his inner balance. Unmistakable with his tricolour hair, he was sitting on the bench, head phones on his ears and a walkman in his hands. His eyes were closed, but he smiled in the sun. He dared to smile, the bastard, he dared to enjoy his life and the sun, and -
"Mm?" The eyes snapped open, and Brian turned his head towards Jon. For a second, he looked outright pissed, then he took off his head phones and pressed the stop button of the walkman.
"What are you doing here?" Jon asked when the first shock went by.
"This is a public place."
"You know what I mean. And how do you know about this place anyway?"
This time, Brian rolled his eyes, and Jon remembered that arrogance was another treat of his character he deeply disliked. At the first real meeting when Jaz’ had introduced them to each other, Jon had used the time Brian was looking for drinks to express his shock, not so much about the fact that Jaz had called him "love", but about the fact that he was a bloody Chinky. And this bloody Chinky had heard him and had told him arrogantly like shit: "It’s not China, little one, it’s Vietnam." For the "little one" as much as for this disdain, Jon had wanted to kill him. They looked all the same anyway.
And now Brian said calmly: "Why do you ask me a question when you know the answer already?"
"You are such an asshole."
"A fool recognises a fool." Brian answered nonchalantly. You just don’t have to beat people on cemeteries. That was the only reason why Jon only bit his lower lip and glared daggers at the other chap, instead of punching him. And Brian rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Listen, I’m sorry. I can imagine that this is no easy day for you, and I know I don’t make it better. I have no idea why, but it seems as if we start fighting every time we met. What do you think about having some sort of cease fire, just for the travel."
"If you think that I would go to London with you, you are so damned wrong."
Brian glanced up to him, honestly surprised.
"Don’t you get it? It has nothing to do with me. I’m just the bloody taxi driver. It’s for your mum, she wants to show you her new life, her new apartment and just spend some days with you. You have your whole life to make whatever you want. What does it bother you to give her just this time?"
"Amen!" Jon replied dryly, understanding that Brian got a point, but it wouldn’t be half as problematic if the bloody taxi driver weren’t him.
"God, sorry. The teacher awakes in every word."
"You are a teacher?"
"Yes, for music, mostly guitar and drums." While he spoke, the shadow came back to the sunny place. Music was a bad topic, too close to the object of friction, and Brian must have felt it, because he got up from the bench, saying quietly: "I think I will leave this place to you. Did your mum return to the hotel?"
"I have no idea." Jon replied with offensive sharpness, and Brian shrugged, then he put on his headphones and hung the walkman on his belt. Nodding shortly towards Jon, he left him alone, hands in the pockets.
Relieved and strangely touched at the same time, Jon let himself sink on the bench. Somehow, the place had lost its charm, or was it just broken by the knowledge that Jaz’ had shared this secret with Brian? Like anything else. Jon didn’t understand. He had heard them throw at each other’s heads the worst words he knew, and Jaz himself had told him that Brian drove him nuts. But at the same time, he had let him spoil every part of his life.
Why for fuck’s sake?
Jon heard the footsteps even before Brian reappeared again. This time, it was up to him to look pissed, because he felt interrupted in his thinking.
"I forgot to tell you something. I’m so glad that you kept the photos and the wallpapers." Brian said to him, his voice sounding much younger as nervous as he appeared.
Jon didn’t answer, somewhat satisfied that, in this special case, he hadn’t been mistaken. Now he waited for Brian to depart again, the chap having expressed his gratefulness.
But Brian stayed, and continued speaking: "That day - I have been here for hours, arguing with myself that I should at least have some words with you. Though, I couldn’t do it, I didn’t know how to tell you that I just couldn’t stand to see his things in our apartment and the apartment itself. And later when he passed by your house, just to have a look, I saw your father throwing the things in the dustbin. And I hadn’t known before that I could feel worse than I already felt. I don’t know if it changes anything for you. I just wanted to tell you."
This time, Brian didn’t even wait for Jon to say something, but putting on his sunglasses, he departed faster than before. Jon looked at the way where he had disappeared, not knowing what to think. Finally, his eyes wandered to the hidden stone angel - a heavenly face touched by the time and the weather.
The idea of a cease fire sounded not too bad since the vampire had manifested some symptoms of affection by the dead of his prey.
~ End of chapter 1 ~
This is a non-edited version of the chapter. I'm conscient of the flaws, but comments, especially concerning stylistic problems are really appreciated.