Chapter III

The Girl Named "Ashley"

[Part III]

[R E A L I T Y]

Did-ding!

The chime of the bell announced the arrival of warm air that flew out into the bitter rain to swaddle them. As they passed through the doorway, the world changed and the door swished shut behind them to shut out the bleak weather with a victorious cry from its bell. The soft hiss of rain became the casual commotion of conversation—hushed tones that climbed over and crowded one another to be heard. Muffled beneath the piled clamor were the faint, rhythmic thumps and ticks of a pop beat that descended from the ceiling to swim the sea of shuffled sounds. Buried beneath even that was the suffocated patter patter of raindrops kissing the windows, only heard when the sky would sigh and guide the glittering beads to the glass. At random, a grinder would spool up across the room, swallowing all these sounds into itself to churn and knead them into a brown dust. Some of this would take to the sky—invisible, but still present in the nutty aroma of strong coffee that clung to the air. The rest would be diluted to fill vessels and hearts with the steaming essence of this place: the bell-chime, the warmth, the small-talk, the pop beat, and the rain in every cup. And it wasn’t just the coffee that lingered here: the air was sweetened with the perfume of freshly baked pastries, rich syrups, and chilled creams. A soothing, faded-caramel glow baked itself into every surface, staining the shallow colors and saturating the deeper ones. All of this was wrapped up in a little brick building with big windows and a silly neon-jellyfish sign.

Periodically, a girl’s voice boldly called from the other end of the room. “Hanson!” A grinder spooled up. Coffee stained the air. “Becca!” The chatter was undisturbed by her cries and the shrieking grinder. “Diana!” In the same way, her strong tone was equally unfazed by the grinder and the chatter. “Robert!”

Oddball wondered what she looked like. Maybe she had black hair—Sam had black hair, and her voice was strong in the same way. Set eyes that were hardened and cold, maybe? But only as a shell: warmth would lie within. That’s how Sam’s were, anyways. He would never know what this girl looked like. His head had grown heavy and his neck had grown weak. His face had pitched forward, inviting the edges of his hood to create walls around it and deny access to the curious and wandering gaze. Ashley had let go of his hand minutes ago—at least, it felt like minutes—so they’d found their way to the pockets of his jacket and pushed aside his wallet, key, and phone to hide themselves there. He couldn’t raise his head. He couldn’t coax his hands from his pockets. So this girl would continue to remind him of his sister, and nothing more.

The floor tiles were small, brown squares that looked almost-red in the caramel light. The grout between them was grimey and marred with the vain efforts of chemical cleaning in some places. Here and there was the forgotten plastic candy wrapper painted with filth, or the patch of blackened gum that knew the soles of countless shoes.

Oddball tried to number the reddish tiles, but the messy choir of idle conversations kept making him lose count—the spooling grinder would occasionally chime in to mock his effort. It was stifling.

What am I doing in here? It was more of a prompt for justification than a question. It’s not like he’d wanted to come in here. Ashley dragged him here—where was that girl anyways? The realization that the hem of the girl’s cherry raincoat was no longer swaying at the top edge of his vision tripped his heart. His joints locked and stiffened. His arms pressed themselves into his sides. Where did she go? His instincts collided with each other—he went to lift his head and scan the room, but a sudden, icy tension seized his lungs at the birth of movement and pinned his chin to his chest. No! Don’t do that! Don’t do that! Ashley was gone. Seconds passed. The voices grew louder. The voices grew oppressive.

Ba-dum.

His heart punched his ribs. If he weren’t stiff he might have stumbled. Calm down. Fear brought futility. Futility brought fear.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. His heart pushed his brain from his skull in that instant, for the former raced behind his ears while his thoughts felt displaced.

Calm down. It was a call from outside: from a rational conscience that was growing distant. “Calm down”, it said as it fled in terror. “Calm down,” it said as it abandoned him in cowardice.

Ba-dum. Ba-dum, his heart replied from his skull. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

Ca…m …ow…n. It was distant. It was fading. He barely heard it. The noise was too loud. The noise was too cluttered. What was the noise saying? C…lm… d…n. What was the noise clamoring about? A new feeling took the driver’s seat. I need out. His foot pivoted. The floor-tiles revolved around his feet. I need out. I need out. I need out.

Did-ding!

No good. The air shifted as the warmth leapt out to cordially welcome its new guests. Shoes scraped a hard mat. Shoes squealed on tile. Coats rustled. No good. New voices joined the chaotic coffeeshop choir. They laughed. Oddball flinched at each cluster of bellowed delight. No good. No good. The escape was blocked. No good. The exit was clogged. No good! He was trapped.

Ba-dum. The pressure on his chest worsened. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. His lungs were crushed by the weight of chatter. His breathing grew shallow. Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. His head felt light. His mouth dried. Each breath hissed against the plastic mask. Badum badum badum. One thought kept time with his heart. Badum badum badum. Out out out. The world was an erratic blur. One foot. Next foot. Out out out. Next foot. Out. Next foot. Out. A faint sound like a dog whistle. Closer. Closer!! A faint ringing behind his eardrums. Almost! It grew louder.

Wumpf! Oddball’s left shoulder and the side of his face met something coarse and plush. The something moved. His head flew up. No! It was too late for instinct to intervene now. A scruffy, checkered coat. A chiseled jaw. Thin stubble. Breath tinged with alcohol. Sharp nose.

Eyes.

“Watch it.” Was that what he said? The ringing was too loud now. Eyes… The man’s lips moved. Only muffled sounds came out. Oddball stopped breathing. Eyes… The ringing drowned out his heart. The ringing drowned out his thoughts.

Wide, blue eyes. Shock. Curiosity. Annoyance. Staring.

Staring.

Staring. Staring. Staring staring staring staringstaringstaringstaringstaringstaringstari…

White fog enveloped everything—floor tiles, wrappers, tables, facial hair, coats. Everything but the wide blue eyes vanished into the blank. They grew bigger. They grew bigger and bigger until he could trace the red spider web of bloody lines with the palms of his hands. Oddball was empty. There was no blood in his heart. There was no air in his lungs. There was no thought in his skull. He was a shell. A shell of skin and fabric and plastic and flesh in a white void with eyes.

Whimpering. Crying. Sniffling.

Oddball turned. There was a little boy with brown hair. His skin was marred with dirt. His face was twisted and warped with a deep pain. His head was in the lap of a young woman with black hair. Oddball couldn’t make out the eyes of either of the two through shadows casted over their complexions.

“Sis,” said the boy, “why do they hate me? Why do they all hate me?” His voice echoed far into the blank expanse. The young woman stroked his head and frowned from beneath the shadow clouding her face.

“Because,” she said, “you’re different. But you know what?”

“What?” Silence. Did the boy ask or did he? The world was growing dark now. More colossal eyes rose from the nothing at his feet. “What?!” Human shadows stretched to give crude bodies to the eyes. The laughter of children filled the air. “TELL ME WHAT!!”

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Woodchips bit into Henry’s knees. The fence bit into his back. The cold November air bit into his skin. Trained gazes bit into his heart.

He was sitting on the ground, surrounded. There was a girl with freckles and glasses and curly orange hair. There was a fat boy with a baseball cap and a stained t-shirt. There were a couple of tall girls with their hair in ponytails—one of them clutched a soccer ball. There was a stocky boy with a shaved head and a cruel grin. There was a short boy in a striped shirt with a stuffed tiger under one arm. There were more faces behind them, peering over shoulders and bouncing up over heads with whispered pleas of “no fair” and “I wanna see too”.

“I told you guys! His eyes are weird! Look!” One pointed.

“Why are they different like that? He’s like an alien or something.” One feigned exaggerated disgust.

“Creeepy…” One shivered.

“If he touches us, do you think we’ll look like that?” One giggled.

“Ewwwww. Stay away from me.” One stepped back.

“I think it’s kind of cool,” one chimed in.

“Why don’t you touch him then? See if you catch it,” one teased.

“What? Ew, no! You touch him!” One ran away.

Henry brought his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. It wasn’t enough. He could still see them. They grew taller. Their faces stretched and leered at him. Their eyes glowed with sadistic glee. They loomed over him. They giggled. They drooled. They pointed mangled fingers.

“Look at him,” they said. “So weird,” they said. “So gross,” they said. They laughed. They drooled. They pointed. They stared.

“Stop it,” Henry whimpered. Tears dripped from his eyes to his legs. Stifled sobs choked him.His ears were burning. His body was quaking.

“Why is he like that?” they said. “I don’t want to look like that,” they said. “Stay away from me,” they said.

“Stop staring at me,” Henry cried. They giggled. They drooled. They pointed. Fingers prodded his flesh. Eyes pierced his skull. “Stop staring at me. Stop it.” Their teeth grew to points. Their jaws unhinged with amusement. “Just leave me alone!” Their eyes detached from their skulls. Their eyes floated around him in their elongated shadows. “Go away…!” Henry opened his mouth. He screamed. “Leave me alone!!” His voice scraped his throat and spurred rivers from his eyes. “STOP—”

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“—STARING AT ME!!” Oddball screamed. The chatter hushed. The grinder fell still. The girl with the strong voice clammed up. The man before him leaned back, as if nearly blown away by the power of his cry.

Rain pattered against the windows. Soft pop music serenaded the startled. Somewhere, a clock was ticking on a wall. A dish clinked.

“Is he okay?” someone whispered. His heart plummeted.

“Who is that?” someone else whispered. It collided with his stomach. His stomach fell with it.

“Was he the one who just shouted?” He could feel other heads raising and turning. More eyes landing on his back. More eyes staring. More mouths whispering.

“What was that about?” “I’ve never seen him before.” “Poor guy…probably sick…” “More likely on drugs…” “What’s that on his face?” “I think it’s a mask?” “Who wears a mask like that?” “Is he just trying to draw attention to himself or something?” “Just ignore him.” “Weirdo.” “What a freak.” “Who let him in?” “Should someone call the police?”

“Oddball?” His knees were growing weak.

I know that voice… He turned. He was shaking. A girl in a red raincoat stood at the counter, facing him. Her eyes were wide and sparkling. Her jaw was hanging a little loose. Is she mad? Is she scared? I just made a scene. I just…I didn’t…I didn’t want…I…

“‘Oddball’? Did she just call him ‘oddball’?” “Sounds like a fitting name to me…” “Say, don’t I recognize her?” “Isn’t she that girl that comes by pretty often?” “The one with the skin thing?” “How does she know him?” “You need to find some better friends, girl…” “I wouldn’t want my daughter hanging around a creep like that. Who are her parents?”

I…I didn’t mean to… The room was growing. It was expanding. The ceiling was lost in the sky. The far wall seemed miles from him. The people around him stretched into colored strings. The walls stretched into infinity. Everything was swaying. Everything was heaving. Ashley was staring at him. I didn’t… His legs were hollow. Every joint there was beginning to give. What did I just…do…? The world was twisting. The world was hazing. The world was blurry. His eyes felt hot. Something fell from one of them and rolled down his cheek.

“Oddball”—Ashley took a step forward—“are you—”

GET OUT. The simple command brought life to his limp legs. The world spun. He was facing the door now. It was growing closer.

“Hey! Stop! Wait!”

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. His hand met glass. The door gave way and flew open.

“Did-ding!” sang the bell. He dove headlong into cold air and stinging rain.

“Oddball, stop! Wa—” The door pivoted shut, cutting off the call. Everything was a gray haze. Each heavy step sent shocks up his legs. One foot met a puddle. Water leapt up and wrapped itself around his leg. His pant legs grew a little heavier. Chills ran through his body.

Railing.

He collided with it, doubling over and almost pitching himself into the raging waters below. His stomach churned. His heart jolted. He threw himself backwards, slipping off the railing and landing on wet concrete. Water permeated his clothes. He reached for the mask to rip it off so he could breathe, but stopped with one hand gripping the bottom edge. Think, idiot! They can still see! He released it and let his arm flop back to his side. He drew in a long breath. His heart began to slow.

Oddball sat up and dragged himself forward to pass his legs below the railing and rest his head against it. He watched the waves, breathing in and feeling his tightened muscles loosen. Below him, lines of white froth danced on heaving mountains and valleys of black water. His eyes were still leaking tears. He did his best to hold them back, shaking his head to scatter them from his eyelids and fighting to swallow the lump at the back of his throat. He knocked his head against the railing gently. The plastic mask tapped against metal.

“Stupid…” he muttered to the roiling water. “What are you going to tell Sam now?” I probably should have just stayed at the dorm…

Did-ding! It was weak, enveloped by the white-noise of rain and crashing water. He wanted to turn around, but his forehead remained glued to the railing. He waited. The ocean stirred and the rain fell.

Guess it was no one. Why did he feel so…disappointed?

Swish!

Something rustled next to him. A pair of legs in denim with worn hiking boots kicked out over the water. At the edge of it, he could see the bright red hem of the coat.

“Sorry…” he said.

“Y’know…you should be,” Ashley said. “Leaving me alone in there like that to cover for you? Y’know how embarrassing that was? I’m a regular there, dude! They know me!! What if they kick me out?”

“Sorry…” Thunk, thunk, thunk. The heels of Ashley’s boots bounced off the sheer concrete wall. Thunk, thunk.

“Whatever. I’m sure they’ll all forget by tomorrow. Like I told you before, there’s weirder people downtown.”

“Ah…alright…” Oddball couldn’t turn to face her.

“You don’t do crowds, huh?” she said.

“Not really, no.”

“Y’know, you could’ve just said something before we went in.”

You didn’t really give me a chance. “Sorry…”

Ashley gently thumped him on the head with her fist. “Come on, now, what did I say about repeating yourself? Knock it off. We all do dumb things sometimes. ‘Least now I know, right? Won’t be taking you to any shopping malls.” She chuckled a little. “If you don’t do crowds…I think I know just the place we can go!”

What? Oddball turned. Ashley had her hood pulled back up, holding the top edge of it out of her face with one slender hand while the other clutched a white cup with steam pouring through a hole in its black lid. As always, she was smiling—all traces of shock, confusion and possible annoyance were long gone.

“But…I…”

“What? Made a scene? You’re wearing this”—she reached out and tapped his mask—”and you’re worried about making a scene? You’re a funny guy, y’know that?” She stood up and held out a hand to him. “C’mon. You’ll love this place.”

Oddball stared at her outstretched hand. Why? After what I just did? Shouldn’t you be upset right now? Suddenly she snapping her fingers in his face, making him jolt backwards.

“Oi! Stop making it weird!”

No…I shouldn’t… “Sorry,” Oddball said, “I really think I should be leaving—”

“Oh no you don’t!!” Ashley grabbed a fistful of his hoodie and started tugging. “You embarrassed me in front of everyone back there, you at least owe me this!!”

“But—”

“No ‘buts’! C’mon, Mask-Boy, stand up!! I am not gonna let you flake out on me, y’hear?” She wasn’t backing down. Her expression was quickly souring into a pout.

Oddball sighed. She’s persistent. “Fine.” He pulled himself away from the railing and stood up. Wait…

Ashley beamed at him. “Great!! Follow me! You’re gonna love this little place.” With that, she was already a few feet ahead of him, humming happily to herself while sipping her drink.

Oddball’s legs wouldn’t move. What was that…just now?

Ashley paused and looked over her shoulder. “You coming or what? Don’t make me drag you!!”

Oddball broke loose of the trance. “Yeah, sorry…” He forced himself to walk.

“What’d I just say about saying that?!”

“Sorry…” He sped up, closing the gap between the two.

Ashley groaned. “Good god, man, you’re killing me.”

Sorry… He was already lost in thought, searching for the feeling that paralyzed him. That’s so weird… Ashley resumed humming to herself, satisfied that he was behind her. For a moment there…I think I was…

…smiling.