Cigarettes and His Mother's Eyes
Four
Mush was sitting out in the alley alone. Blink stared from the mouth of the street, saw his best friend sink back against the building and slide to the ground. He didn't realize he was being watched; he'd slipped out from the square without attracting attention, and Blink was supposed to be off on a date. She'd cancelled–or rather, he'd shown up and she'd dumped him–and he'd come home disappointed. He'd seen Racetrack and Mush talking, and then Racetrack shrugged, playfully slapped Mush a little, and went off for a game of cards. Mush had watched him go, then quietly slipped off to the alley, alone.
I didn't know you went out there, too, Blink thought. It had always been him, upset and seeking solitude, and Mush following him back there. Blink reached for a cigarette, found one in his pocket, and stepped into the alley. "You okay?" he asked.
Mush looked up and stared a little. "Ain't you supposed to be out?" he returned.
"I got dumped."
"You got dumped?" Mush asked, trying to sound amused.
"Can I sit down or what?"
Mush gestured to the space next to him, and Blink took it, pulled out the cigarette and lit it. He took a drag and handed it to Mush, who hesitated, then shook his head no. "Since when do you get dumped?"
"Ah, it ain't a big deal. She wasn't gonna…" He trailed off, leering suggestively.
"If that was why you was dating her, I don't blame her."
Blink had the good grace to look guilty. Mush sighed. "Can't be healthy, Blink, it can't."
"You'se just sayin' that 'cause you've never had a steady girl," Blink teased.
"Not all of us want things like you do," Mush said, his voice more bitter than he'd planned. Blinked looked over at him, realizing something was wrong, that there was probably a reason Mush had come to sit out here alone.
"You okay?" he asked again, again offering the cigarette.
Mush stared at his hand, the offered cigarette, and the smoke rising from it as though it held the answers to everything in the world. He reached out slowly and accepted it, set it between his lips, and paused. He shook his head and handed it back. "I hate those," he said.
"Then why do you smoke 'em?" Blink questioned.
Mush stared at Blink's hand, the one that clutched the cigarette, and watched as his friend casually took a drag. He looked up into Blink's face.
"You ever had a secret, one you ain't… You ain't never told no one?" he finally asked.
"Lotsa things I ain't told no one but you."
"No, I mean no one at all. Not even me."
"I tell you everything, Mush. You know that."
"Yeah." Mush pulled his knees up a bit and wrapped his arms around them, hoping to ward off the cold by curling into a smaller space, conserving his own body heat. "So why'd she dump you?" he asked.
"'Cause I'm a one-eyed freak," he answered bitterly.
"What?"
Blink sighed. "Last time we was out, she asked me about my eye, an' I wouldn't tell her… She got upset 'cause she thinks it means I don't trust her or somethin'. I tried to tell her no one knows, it ain't no one's business by mine, but she wasn't happy about it. So when I showed up today, all I got was, 'Sorry, Kid, you'se nice an' all, but…'" He slammed a fist against the wall behind him. "Why do they always have to ask?"
"Dunno."
Blink took another drag. "So what about you? Why you out here alone?"
Mush shrugged.
"You feelin' down or somethin'? We could go for a drink, I think I got enough saved–"
"Keep savin' it. Slump time until Thanksgiving," Mush reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah." Blink elbowed his friend in the side. "An' I gotta save up to cover your ass, huh?" he teased. They both knew he could outsell Mush any day, and always did. He had since they'd gotten old enough that Mush's baby-face wasn't pathetic enough to sell papers any more.
"You ain't gotta," Mush said, his voice sounding hurt. "I don't want you to."
"Don' worry about it," Blink said, realizing that he'd made a mistake in teasing somehow. It was sometimes so hard to predict Mush's mood… "What's a' matter, you really sound blue. Girl break your heart when I wasn't lookin'?"
"Not a girl," Mush mumbled into his arm, looking down at the dirty ground.
"So what happened?"
Mush looked up and stared at Blink again, a little bit desperately. "Blink, I–" he stopped. "It's just." He stopped. "Nevermind."
"No, tell me," Blink insisted. "It can't be so big, right? I know all the important stuff about you."
Mush almost laughed at that. "You don't," he answered. "You don't know a thing about me."
"Whaddaya mean I don't?" Blink demanded. "You been keepin' somethin' a secret from me?"
"Yeah." Mush straightened out and leant back against the building again. He reached out and Blink surrendered the cigarette. Mush smoked for a second, then handed it back, and when Blink reached for it he grabbed his hand. "Blink, if I tell you, you can't… You gotta promise not to hate me."
"Whaddaya mean?" Blink repeated. "I ain't gonna hate you. Ain't nothing about you to hate."
"Sure there is." Mush released Blink's hand.
"C'mon, it can't be nothin' that bad."
"Sure it can." Mush looked away from his friend. "Blink, I'se queer," he said finally, quickly.
Blink burst out laughing. "You what?" he asked.
"You heard me."
"That ain't funny, Mush." Blink stopped laughing and stared at his friend. He clutched what remained of the cigarette tightly.
"I ain't laughin', am I?" Mush asked.
"You mean you'se serious?"
"Yeah."
Blink stared. Mush finally turned back towards him, trying to read his face, but not liking what he saw. Blink's mouth was closed in a tight-lipped frown, his eye was narrowed, glaring, and he'd pulled himself as far away from Mush as he could without actually getting up and moving.
They sat there like that for what felt like an eternity. Finally, Mush couldn't stand it, and murmured, "Well?"
"Well what?" Blink demanded.
"Well say something about it, huh?" Mush begged.
"What do you want me to say?"
"Say whatever. Just say something."
Blink looked away. "Sure. I'll say something." He stood up. "You was supposed to be my best friend, Mush Meyers."
"I am your best friend, Blink that ain't different."
"My best friend?" Blink scoffed, his voice mocking as well as angry.
"I–"
"My best friend ain't a fag," Blink said coldly, stood up, and started to walk away.
Mush sprang to his feet. "Wait," he said. "Wait, you gotta wait, please… Kid Blink, you gotta wait. There's one more thing you gotta hear, an' I promise if you listen I'll go away an' I won't come back. You'll never have to see me again, ever. Promise."
Blink turned back towards him, everything in his body language screaming anger. "What?" he snarled.
"Blink, I–I think I'm in love with you. I mean, I am in love with you, I have been for years. I… I'se real sorry about it, about all a' this, but I can't help it."
Blink clenched a fist, a thousand thoughts running through his mind, none of them pleasant and none of them really coherent. He couldn't figure out how to say a single one, and finally spat, "So all those times you was nice to me–what, you wanted to get me in bed?"
"You know it ain't like that," Mush said defensively, trying not to sound like he was on the brink of breaking down.
"Christ, I slept in your bed an'–you'se fucked up, Meyers. Real fucked up."
"Kid Blink, please…" Mush took a step towards him, not sure what to do, hoping somehow to convince him to take everything back, to stay and talk, but knowing it wasn't going to work. He knew Blink too well for that.
"Get the hell outta my life."
Blink cast him a long final glance. He turned again and strode out of the alley, dropping the final remnants of the cigarette, still too shocked to know how he really felt, only clear that he'd been betrayed. He'd told Mush Meyers every single secret he had, and in return got this dropped on him.
Mush stood behind him, alone. He stared after his friend, then sank back down to the alley floor, kneeling, doubled over at the waist, his forehead almost touching the ground. He always figured he'd cry when he finally told Blink, when Blink finally hated him–he'd never doubted that would happen–but now felt too empty even for that.
He'd just gotten himself thrown out of Blink's life, forever. Tears wouldn't have been enough. So he knelt there, wondering why he was still bothering to breathe, alone with the dying ember of one last shared cigarette.