Blue Boy

Blue Boy lives on a hill with a view of the City.

Soulflare lives with her mother Sunsister in Castle of
Tranquility.

Spiritchaser dances with snakes in Appelanchian Dream Mountains and
rides speed-demon through London smog.

Mojo covets dominion of fleshly men.

Morpheus drinks chalice of tears in black chamber and plans a swift
execution.
______________________________________________

"The Hangman throws up his noose, the killer cocks his gun, the
assassin dips the blade in poison and all bow down ready to do the
dance."
- Grand Master of Death, Ceremony XIII
_______________________________________________

Two minutes.
Blue Boy swallowed another mouthful of coffee. Foamy milk touched the
tip of his nose. He wiped it off between his fingers with a subtle
glance around the busy cafe to see who had noticed. A woman in a burnt
orange sarong caught his movement and met his eyes. He paused on the
frank beauty captured within her smile and freely returned it.
Everybody else appeared to be absorbed in their own world: reading,
writing, staring at the City people rushing by. For the duration of a
latte, mochoa, expresso or bananna smoothie, these occupants joined him
on a stage removed from reality by the viel of window glass. The City
people always looked in envious, Blue Boy thought and wondered why they
didn't just step beyond the glass and join them.
He swept another slow glance across the occupants of the cafe,
watching for signs of anxiety or any of the symptoms of the hunter
stalking the target. The orange sarong woman had returned to her
magazine. A few people looked up, natural reaction to his prolonged
attention. Nothing that provoked his instincts to say: DANGER.
He slipped a hand beneath the nylon combat jacket and checked the gun
was secure. It was tucked into the waistband of his pants, compact
enough to not be uncomfortable.
One minute.
The fear grabbed him.
Jesus, he exclaimed inside his head. What a day to meet her! When
there was a killer on the prowl. He would have shot the first person he
even slightly suspected but there were rules of engagement. No
innocents could be killed. That was Law.
Blue Boy muttered a prayer put together from mantras he used in
meditation. He prayed for nothing to happen whilst she was with him. He
prayed she understood what he had to say. He prayed he lived through
the day.
There was a lot of foam at the bottom of the paper cup. He knocked it
back, pleased to find there was a shot of coffee left in there.
He tried to recall the first time he saw her. Maybe a year ago or so.
He strained his brain to recover that precious moment from the cool,
bottomless vaults of memory. It did not respond. All it brought back
into the light was the moment he fell in love.
Soulflare standing in the garden with her mother. A festival was
happening in the hills beyond the City and she was dressed for good
times. Soulflare laughed excitedly about going: a cheeky giggle that
always ended in a sigh. Sunshine sparkled off her shinyclothes and long
sandy hair and he remembered his stomach fluttering with her laughter
lifting every thought in his mind.
He loved her and that was that.
He loved her and it was doomed to die.
Soulflare was a yancy. A young blood. Any union between them was
prohibited; any form of passion a crime. So he pretended his feelings
were a lie. He entered denial. And every day she entered the innermost
sanctum of his head and danced for a while. It was wrong to say he
worshipped her, as some might say if they knew. Time they spent
together was based on a mutual vibe. As strong, simple and pure as a
silver ring. He knew when she was thinking about him, he could pluck
images and thoughts from her like taking air from the sky. It was true
to state there was something very special there, between them, but now
had come the moment to bring it to an end. Kill it, or be killed.
Blue Boy put down the empty cup and checked his watch.
It was time.

(

Morpheus heard his knees crack as he lowered himself onto the hard
concrete floor. His torso was naked and composed of shadows and
highlights of pale flesh, the flickering candlelight playing off his
thin and bony form. The room was filled with burning church candles,
accoutrements for this ritual of killing.
He wiped fresh tears from his face.
He picked the gun up from the square of red velvet cloth which it lay
wrapped in when not in use.
His face became serious. He whispered a little prayer to Death.

(

He shifted uncomfortably on the tall stool, aware his back was layered
in nervous sweat.
The door to the caf? squealed open.
Blue Boy turned to glimpse the new entrant and almost toppled off the
stool in surprise.
Mojo. Ex-girlfriend. Six foot Caribbean, light brown ringlets of hair
pouring down either side of an aggressive face. Mojo, scorpio rising
and falling, born again Christian after sleezing through too many sex
parties.
What was she doing here?
She saw him, smiled and sauntered over. The aggressive look softened
but did not disappear.
"Hi Mojo." He greeted warmly. Inside he was thinking: I haven't seen
you in over a year. I thought you moved away.
"Still sitting in cafes watching the world go by? Hello Blue Boy." She
leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He watched her move back and take
the stool next to him. She registered his reaction: he had saved the
seat for somebody. "Expecting company?"
He stared her right in the eyes. What the fuck do you want? He wanted
to say, instead he displayed a bashful smile and lowered his head,
"Yeah, right about now, actually. How are you Mojo? What are you up to
these days?"
"I just moved back to the City. Girlfriend?" Referring to the intended
occupant of the seat.
"No." he answered and found himself flushing. His greatest desire
catching some rare exposure. Blue Boy produced an ironic chuckle to
cover it, "Not at all. She's a yancy."
"Going for young blood's now are we?" It was an innocent tease but
touched a nerve. He was well aware of how society would judge his
feelings for Soulflare, or the ridicule some would throw on him for
what they saw as a man following a foolish fantasy. He knew these
things and tried to embrace them as a way to pry Soulflare from his
mind, but it was like trying to sweep bees from the pollen nests of a
flower, it was going against nature.
Snapback to reality for Blue Boy, confronted by Mojo's searching gaze,
"Where did you go?" she asked.
He rubbed the lower half of his face, "I've got a lot on right
now."
She nodded without understanding; there was a sense of purpose
concealed within the beguiling line of her mouth.
"Lucas Brown is playing Caf? Baloo tonight."
He gave a disinterested grunt and scanned the crowds outside for any
sight of Soulflare. He saw a man standing in the doorway of a bank. The
man wore large wraparound sunglasses, and was watching him. Blue Boy
checked for the telltale bulge of concealed weaponry. Nothing. The man
didn't look away; if he was hunting him he was a pro. Blue Boy felt a
queasy panic stir up the bile in his guts.
"Are you listening to me?" Mojo complained sharply.
"Yes." He smiled and pulled his attention back to her, placed a
placating hand on her arm. "Now is not the best time. The world's gone
crazy today."
"So I see." Moody. Same old Mojo, he thought, then threw a quick
glance at the man in the doorway. Still there. Still watching him.
Shit.
"Are you back here for good?" he asked her.
"For now."
"Got a number?"
"Not yet." She answered. Not one you want to give me.
"Okay, well, look, I'm meeting this girl any minute now. Let me meet
her and give me a call later." Trying to get rid of her.
"So you're not coming out tonight?"
"Nope." He made it sound flippant. Mojo stood up, scraped her stool
back across the floor. The orange sarong looked their way. Mojo had
that aggressive face on max.
"Have a nice night." she said, insincere.
"I will."
"I never thought I'd see the day."
"Really."
"Blue Boy putting a yancy in front of a night out with me."
He grinned involuntarily, "Don't flatter yourself Mojo. Call me if you
want, but leave me because I'm in no mood for hassle."
Mojo flashed her eyebrows above a nasty sneer, turned and walked
out.
Blue Boy bowed his head into his hand and shook it slowly.
God, what a nightmare.

(

Morpheus slipped the gun into its holster and tugged the straps across
his back tight. Every action held ritualistic significance. Every
movement a semblance of preparation that would lead him to perform the
final act. He released his grip on the strap and moved his hand under
his ravenous gaze. He studied the hard skin around the clenched
knuckles; it reminded him of the tough sinewy fibres he had knitted
around his heart. Life had pounded him with pain and suffering until he
was forced to change his very being to survive.
He slipped into the great black leather coat and wrapped it closed
around his thin frame. The coat was his armour against the madness of
the outside world. He left the cold isolation of his room and hit the
City streets. Madness, yes, all around him. It was there in the
mindless eyes of the people who lived their lives like sheep. Morpheus
hugged the coat closer to him and felt the edge of the gun against his
side. It inspired a rush of vertigo and he visualised the moments to
come, he strode on, powerful amongst the meek, grinning darkly with
boudnless pleasure.

(

The door to the cafe squealed open.
He jerked upright and looked through the window for the man in the
doorway. The man was gone. Blue Boy reached into his jacket and turned
slowly on the stool.
"Hi!" A woman's voice full of joy.
It was Sunsister, Soulflare's mother. Blue Boy swirled in a mixture of
relief and disbelief.
"Hello you." he said back, hugged her gently and accepted the soft
kiss on his lips.
"You look tense." She commented with her Scandinavian intonatios, then
unslung her bag and took the stool Mojo had just vacated.
He nodded slowly, "Understatement of the century"
She laughed then, full of understanding. Her face held the compact
symetry of a proud cat. Long blonde hair flowed past her shoulders. The
essense of feline contained in every gesture and movement she
made.
He wondered if she knew he was meeting her daughter, "What brings you
into the crazy heart of the City?"
"I was just driving past and I saw you sitting in the window. I honked
my horn but you didn't notice me. I thought I would drop in a share a
coffee. I'm not disturbing you am I?"
"No, not at all." Her presence was calming him. "I'm meant to be
meeting that young lady of yours about now."
"Really?" She sounded surprised, "She told me she was meeting Pepe.
Her new man."
Freefall city. Blue Boy showed the world his best smile but his
stomach had just dropped into nowhere and he could feel the blood
draining from his face.
"Oh, wow." he tried to sound enthusiastic. "Where did he spring
from?"
"He's a clown. She met him at his show. I don't think he's very funny
but," she shrugged, "She likes him."
Blue Boy was nodding rapidly, grinning slightly awry. He began to feel
glad, believed the line he was selling himself: it was a good thing.
Now he wouldn't have to worry about his feelings. He could push them to
the bottom of his mind and let life bury them. Maybe in a decade or so
he would find them down there, uncovered by a photograph, and regret
the time he let an angel slip through his fingers.
Maybe.
The subject changed.
"Spiritchaser would like you to come to London to come to the first
night of his exhibition." Sunsister invited.
"Oh yeah? That would be great. When is it?"
"Next month. It will be the first time he has displayed all his work
in one place at once."
Spiritchaser was Sunsister's lover. He painted photorealistic images
with oils on canvass. Ethnic landscapes and visual fragments of native
cultures. He rode the planet on a powerful speed demon searching for
the experiences he could then paint. He was a lion-maned man of
outstanding talent and humanity.
"I'll be there." Blue Boy said. "When's he coming up?"
"Next..." Sunsister pouted her lips as her mind delved back into her
thoughts, "Next Sunday. He's over in North America learning sand
painting from a shaman."
Blue Boy smiled at the picture the statement created in his mind.
Sunsister flapped a hand and said, "Tell me about that girl you said
you were meeting?"
Blue Boy rolled his eyes, "Not even worth the energy spent breathing
in the air for the words to describe what a fiasco that was."
"Why?"
"She was stunning, I mean, really stunning, but you know how some
people just can't relax in your company. She was sat like this..." he
did an impression of a figure frozen at awkward angles, "And just
looked so uncomfortable. Within ten minutes I had a back ache just
looking at her. A nightmare. A real nightmare."
"Well, I think she probably wanted more than you were giving
out."
"Yeah, I think she definately had been expecting it to be a runaway
romance or something. I'm just not in the mood for that right now." He
wanted to tell her how he felt about her daughter but considered those
feelings redundant now. Soulflare would fall in love with the
clown.
"I just wish I could meet the One, you know?" he said.
"Well, I think you're not ready yet."
Perhaps, he thought, but then had to fight his mind when it told him
he already had.
"What about Soulflare and Pepe? How do you feel about that?"
"He's too old for her."
The comment stung him inside.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, curious to know where she
stood.
"He's just becomming a man. He'll have desires she just can't provide
for."
Blue Boy understood. "Fancy a coffee?"
She shook her head. "I have to get back. Would you come with me? I
need your help with the machine."
Blue Boy didn't see any point in hanging around. He exchanged smiles
with the Orange Sarong as he followed Sunsister outside.
Strolling through chaotic crowds of City people, Sunsister gave him a
sidelong and appraising glance.
"What?" he queried, flicking his eyes across the random faces around
them, looking for any signs.
"I think you and Soulflare look wonderful together."
"What?" trying not to sound so flabbergasted. Stepping sideways to
avoid a man who suddenly stopped.
"I think you look fabulous together. Appearance wise you're similar. I
was watching you both yesterday, when you picked her up, you moved so
well with each other and I just thought `wow' they would make a
wonderful couple."
Blue Boy fell silent. Inside his mind was in turmoil. His plan today
had been to explain to Soulflare his love for her, acknowledge it as
impossible and leave it at that. A desire that would never
blossum.
Now this.
"How much thought have you given this?"
Sunsister gave him a look that expressed a million words.
"It's funny you know." He began cautiously, moving himself closer to
prevent people coming between them, "You're not the first person to say
that."
"Well, then, it's probably true."
What did she mean, what was she getting at? Soulflare was a yancy, a
young blood. However much he wanted it to happen, it couldn't. It just
couldn't.
Perhaps it was the barrage of mental tsunami crashing through his
defences, or the disorientating flux of bodies approaching and veering
away from him: he didn't see Sunsister had a weapon until she was
pulling it out from her bag. A slim paper-knife dagger.
Betrayal released the taste of acid in his mouth. He span sideways and
stepped back. She whirled round, following him, the hunt twisting her
face into a deranged glare. He drove his hand into his jacket, ripped
out the gun from the waistband. She saw it and faltered, the blade to
far from him to cause him any harm. Blue Boy smiled then, facial
muscles clenching on adrenalin. His eyes flashed a brief message of
`sorry' before he pulled the trigger three times.
Something hard jabbed him where his jaw met his neck. He turned to see
Morpheus standing with a gun held against him from an outstretched
arm.
"Christ, Morpheus!" His best friend.
"Today you loose." Morpheus pulled the trigger.
Blue Boy staggered back as the water sprayed his face. He heard
Sunsister laughing. "Shit.", he cried out, and a smile split his
lips.
Morpheus stood there triumphant. The water pistol crossed across his
chest like an alternative James Bond, he raised an eyebrow and beamed
at him cheekily. Sunsister stepped forward, wiping the water from Blue
Boy's gun away.
Blue Boy slapped his thigh in delight, "How the hell did you join the
game?
Sunsister slipped the paper-knife back into her bag. She lifted one
shoulder in a nonchelant shrug, "I was invited."
Blue Boy turned to his friend, "Morpheus you bugger. You win
again."
"It's all about taking the role seriously." Morpheus replied. "Knowing
what you want without doubt or hesitation."
Blue Boy nodded, stealing the words for his own situation.
Sunsister glanced at her watch, "I have to go. Morpheus, would you
like a lift back home?" Morpheus nodded, she looked at Blue Boy,
"Soulflare is waiting for you back in the cafe, she agreed to wait
untitl Morpheus had a chance to win the game."
Blue Boy felt his body shudder. Soulflare was here. He shook his head
and grinned, "Well played. I'll see you both later no doubt."
He turned and ran back to the cafe.
The door squealed as he pushed it open and Soulflare turned on the
stool to face him.
She saw him and smiled. His legs turned to rubber. How could one
person do that to another? With nothing more than a glance she had set
his heart on fire.
"Hello you." He said.
"How was the game?" Her eyes followed him as he sat down beside
her.
"I died."
Soulflare laughed, her mouth open wide. The fire raged brighter inside
him and raked him with pain; it was crazy, it was so crazy to be
feeling this way.
"I thought you would. Mother wanted to have a stab at you first,
though, so Morpheus let her join in."
Blue Boy grinned broadly, "It was quite a surprise to say the least.
Isn't there something you should be telling me?"
And isn't there something you should be telling her, his brain
reminded him.
Soulflare gave him that fake 'what do you mean?' look she often did.
Blue Boy looked down, "About the clown."
She saw her secret was out, so clapped her hands excitedly and bounced
up and down on the stool, "Oh my God Blue Boy, I'm in love."
Blue Boy felt his body melt inside. He felt no jealousy or bitterness.
They were sad emotions tainted with a smell you could never avoid. The
happiness he saw in her face was pure and unrestrained and it flowed
into him through the connection they shared.
Knowing what you want without doubt or hesitation. The words of
Morpheus came back at him. He nodded to himself, acknowledging there
weight. He held the thoughts close to him, there was no need to let
them out.
Soulflare was a young blood. Her voyage had only just begun.
Time would be the great decider in this tumult of fate. Love was not
won or lost through trickery or deceit.
For now he would stand by her and guard the gates.

END