Act Natural

Ch. 7 - Xuvi and Willie

***

As a 5’4 man, I expected to just slide into the tunnel as if it was a piece of cake, but as I slithered my way out, dust and cobwebs have clung to my form like plastic wrap. Small spiders with thin, tiny legs scampered around my arms and hair and I definitely was no match for the dust bunnies. At the end of the short tunnel was an old apartment’s living room. Well, I wouldn’t call it a living room from how dead it looked.

It was mostly empty with gray walls and a single dusty, cloth-covered couch sitting in the middle of the room with its back towards me, facing a fireplace that had been lit and was eating at the wood placed inside. Two doors were attached to the room, one I’m assuming led to the rest of the building and the other led to another room. A terrace was attached to a doorway on one side of the room. Although we were still on the first floor, it gave way to a spectacular view of the countryside that I never thought would be there in the first place. An eerie silence surrounded the place—almost like an empty gym after a school party. Exuvius stood next to the couch, gently dusting it off.

I trudged out of the tunnel, looking around. “Why’s this place so… filthy?” I commented, patting my coat down and turning to help George up. “And I guess I owe you a thanks?” George gave me a bright smile. “Yep! But you owe me way more than that.”

I was bewildered. “Excuse you, I-“

“I helped you because I needed help, too! There’s this ball-“

“Woah, Woah, Woah, pump the brakes,” I said. “I didn’t even agree to this.”

“Ever since you went through that tunnel, you’ve agreed by default,” He sassed, putting his hips on his hands. He had a point. I’d do the same thing. “There’s this ball my friend is hosting, and I just needed some adults who can accompany me! It’s his birthday, and I wanted to surprise him.”

I blinked, exchanging glances with Exuvius. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“I have 2 questions.”

“Ask away, mister.” George kept up the cheerful mood, bouncing on his feet and looking me straight in the eyes like a little demon trying to suck out my soul. Cheerfully, though.

“First off, whose place is this? It looks like it hasn’t been lived in in a while.”

“Well, it isn’t mine.”

“WHAT?!” I yelled, grabbing his arm. Children, I swear! They’re all walking-talking disasters. Yes, I know, I used to be a children as well, but, technically, that wasn’t me. “We’re trespassing?!”

“Nope. This place belongs to my pappy. Though I haven’t been here in a while and neither has he. He went to war and left me at the orphanage, where I stay usually, but it’s alright! He’ll come back!”

Oh. So I was right about him being an orphan.

“… Oh.”

“Next question!”

“How’d you know we were being chased?”

“You weren’t exactly discreet running around town like that, mister. I figured that if I helped you, you’d count as my ticket to my friend’s party… “

“Look, what even are the requirements? You can just waltz in there through some kind of secret passage like that one, right?” I jerked my thumb towards the tunnel we came in.

“Nah. I can’t go without an adult ‘cause his father only lets the rich people in,” He pouted, clinging to my arm like I was his mother. Wood creaked under us, giving me the urge to cling to the window. I had a feeling that the place under us wasn’t on ground. “Please! Just accompany me, and I won’t be a burden! You just have to act like you’re my uncles or something.”

I yanked my arm away. I wasn’t going to babysit anyone while I was on the run. My mind raced with thoughts that were certainly not about whatever George wanted. I had to: 1, make sure Kristian doesn’t get roped into all this, 2, keep watch of The Pen while it charged so we can leave this time and go, and 3, hide from Calendars and make sure they don’t go back to my original timeline. That’s the thing with time-traveling, you get into all sorts of drama and live a double-triple-quadruple life where you have to protect every single person in those lives. Though, I’m there for the thrill.

“No thank you,” I say in the gentlest tone possible. “I’m not helping you.”

“But—but—“

“Willias, come on,” chimed in the immortal, crossing his arms at me. “It’s just a party.”

“And I don’t wanna go. May I excuse myself?”

I leaned against the rails on the terrace, chewing on a piece of gum I tucked into my pocket before going out of the house. If you haven’t noticed, I wasn’t really keen on going to another party. Why? Take a wild f*****g guess. Here’s a hint: Father.

As you probably don’t know, I’m the face of my father’s company (companies?) and the minute I set foot in California I was dragged off to some business party where— as much as I hated it—I had to smile and look pretty for the Uncle Scrooge honchos showing off their daughters to me, the bachelor, ‘cause every other man in the room were either above 30 or ‘didn’t live up to their expectations as much as Willias Blacke’, so to speak. I’ve been in LA for 2 years tops, and it was all just a boring, party-filled, pro-breakdown couple of years. If I go to another party to fake smile again, I’m going to puke and strangle everyone within a 5-foot radius with the gum in my mouth.

I blew a bubble with the gum and shifted my weight to my other foot. I had The Pen in hand, basking it in the moonlight. It charged through solar energy, and, as long as the clouds didn’t cover the moon again, and if I did this every night for a day or two, it'll charge The Pen in no time. Hopefully, Kristian won’t be mad that I bailed on our sleepover—or that I’ll practically disappear without a trace like last time.

“Hey,” Exuvius said from behind me, startling me and making me pop the bubble gum all over my face. It stuck to my nose and lips like plastic wrap. The immortal had taken off his coat and loosened his cravat. He looked like he was about to pick a fight with Captain Jack Sparrow. The braid in his hair was gone and dark bangs hung over his head. “Is that gum?”

I gave him a hard glare. “Yesh,” I pulled the gum away from my face and popped it back in my mouth before turning back to the windy countryside, twirling the pen in my hand, and listened to its constant beeping. The tall grass moved along with the wind in waves like it was mimicking the ocean. Gunshots screamed in the distance, giving me the urge to cover my ears or something. Candle light shone through the doorway behind me and Exuvius, but it was weak.

“… Okay, what’s up?” Exuvius asked after a bit, leaning on the wooden rails beside me. I raised an eyebrow. “The sky.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“That I don’t want to go to the party with George? You can go by yourselves, you know.”

“Yeah, no. Why are you so against it?”

I’ve been to enough parties for this year, you i***t.

“Besides, George is… petty.”

I snorted. “No shit.”

“He wants you to come, too.”

“Why, though? If the Calendars find us, we’ll be pulverized and there’s a fine chance of us not going back to our normal lives — George can go fu—“

“Ssshh,” He shushed, frowning as strands of his hair flew into his face. “He’s a kid, don’t say that.”

“Can he hear us?”

“I put him to sleep earlier. Apparently, the poor thing’s got nightmares.”

I nodded slowly and sympathetically. “Okay, mom. Am I supposed to feel sympathy?”

“Depends. Do you still have morals? And, seriously? Mom?”

“Nicknames bring people closer, you know.”

Clouds parted in the distance. Stars accompanied a mesmerizing crescent moon that glowed so bright, the light bounced off Exuvius’s eyes.

“What do you want me to call you, then? Will?”

“Ooh, Will. I like it. And you’ll be…” I paused, thinking for a moment. “Ex? Vius? Xuvi?”

“Oh, God, please don’t call me Xuvi.”

I flashed him a grin, turning my head back to the countryside. The gunshots had quieted down and all I could hear were the crickets and the faraway sounds of people talking. “Okay, Xuvi.”

He punched me on the arm. “Shut up. How’d you feel if I called you Willie?”

“Are you calling me a d**k?”

“Possibly.”

I laughed, almost choking on my gum. “Alright,” I mustered. “You really want me to come? Fine. I’ll come with you to the ball.”

Exuvius instantly lit up. It wasn’t really obvious. He still kept his blank face, but his eyes twinkled a little more than usual. “Really?”

I brushed the dust off the wooden rails of the terrace and walked back inside, making another gum bubble. “Maybe,” I said, taking off my coat. “Go sleep for now.”

“I’m immortal. I don’t need sleep.”

I squinted at him. “I’m immortal, not invincible,” I mimicked his own voice. “You ass.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a lace pillow from the couch that was no doubt crawled over by multiple insects and diseases. “Whatever, you can sleep on the couch.”

“But the couch is filthy!”

“So are you.”

“GO TO HELL.”

***

The next day was ridiculous. I woke up to George pleading me to go with him to the ball. “It’ll be fun.” He said. “There’ll be lots of food.” He said. Repeatedly. With hand gestures.

I had a little cousin like him, and I once threw her out of a window (she was 5, I was 10- I had the opportunity and I took it). We were on the first floor, but she hit a bush of roses with thorns. Anyway, I didn’t throw George out the window because Exuvius, his adoptive mom, was watching. He was practically twice my size, and he had muscles. Something told me he didn't get those for nothing.

I figured George didn’t even have anything to wear to this ball he so inappropriately invited me to, so we went to Kristian’s. Just as I expected, he was really mad. He hugged me, much to my protesting, then squeezed me like I was a rubber chicken. The sound I let out sounded like I was one, too.

“Jesus Christ!” He cursed, pinching my cheeks. “You said you’d sleep here! You scared me half to death!”

“Perish,” I said.

“And you brought a child! Did you give birth?!”

“WHAT DO YOU THINK, GENIUS???”

We argued for nearly an hour. It was fun. We’d talked about how he’d considered joining the revolution. I reminded him to stay safe, but, being a time traveler, I knew his fate.

In the meantime, Exuvius toured George around the shop, helping him pick anything he wanted. When George saw something shiny, blue, flashy, etcetera, etcetera, he ran over to it and gleefully commented on how he’d want clothes like that. Exuvius would nod, tell him it’s too big, and they’d both be off to another mannequin, George dragging him off like he was a curious puppy going out for a walk.

As I said, he was his adoptive mother for the time being. Poor thing.

In the end, we walked out of the shop with a well-dressed George in a green satin coat and all the other garments the child of a noble should be wearing. I paid, of course.

George reminded us that this ball he wanted to be at so badly was tonight. It was only lunchtime, so we visited a restaurant before getting a free tour from George around Manhattan. We passed a dozen old buildings that seemed to bustle with activity. Once I saw a cart full of guns being loaded off into a carriage. It disappeared down the hectic streets, but I glimpsed on the driver, and he looked absolutely horrible. A few moments later, a messenger holding a bag bumped into me and we both fell to the ground, spilling her letters all over the ground. I helped her sort herself out, but what bothered me the most was the blood on most of the parchment papers.

“That’s my orphanage!” George screeched in delight as we passed a brick building that looked so adorably vintage they probably made it with the pages of the book of sarcastic comments I kept in my head. The bricks used to make it were coral red and seemed to be polished 10 times a day with a golden cloth or something. They kept the windows up and children about George’s age were batting their blankets with their heads sticking out. Countless older-looking kids were resting in the gardens nearby, blowing dandelions and playing swords as if a revolution wasn’t currently happening. A few of them waved our way. I waved back.

“You stay there?” I asked George. “It’s freakin’ gorgeous. We could’ve stayed there instead of that rickety old apartment, you know?” I glanced toward the entrance of the orphanage, noticing a stack of books that I would’ve loved flipping through. “Books!” I exclaimed.

“Um… that’s the thing. I haven’t been here in a while,” George admitted, waving half-heartedly to his… orphanage-mates? “My brothers and sisters over there have been covering for me while I visited my friend and looked for my papa.”

I gritted my teeth and sucked in air. “You think he’s alive?”

“Of course he is,” George blurted immediately, leading me and Exuvius away from the orphanage. “He has to be. He promised.”

Exuvius looked at me. “Yeah, Will. Shut up.”

“You shut up. And, you know, sometimes dads don’t keep their promises.”

George looked down at the ground, his eyes losing the shine they used to have. “But I miss him…”

Exuvius raised his hand and gave me a firm slap on the head. “Ow!” I yelled, rubbing my head as the immortal gave George a pat on his head, completely opposite to the one he gave me. “It’s alright, he didn’t mean it. Your dad will come back, don’t be sad.” He assured George gently, his eyes softening as if he was talking to a kitten. A sixteen-year-old, 5-foot-ish, American kitten.

George slowly nodded and sniffled. “O-okay,” He stuttered, instinctively grabbing onto Exuvius’s hand.

… Aww.

“And you,” Exuvius turned to me, breaking me out of my trance. “You are not allowed to say what you just said anymore.”

“…Ow?”

“And don’t be mean to the kid.”

“I’m not being mean! I’m just projecting my trauma onto— Ohhh, gotcha, gotcha. Won’t be mean to the kid.”

He rolled his eyes. “Where to next, George?”

“I already told Xuvi—“ You can’t call him that! I thought. That’s HIS nickname that I gave!

“—but I kind of want to go to the orphanage for a bit with him, if that’s alright, Willias,” He mumbled, looking down at his feet then longingly towards the redbrick orphanage. All the children I previously saw were walking back in, probably to do more chores.

Two women were standing at the pavilion, arguing about something. One of the women was tall and seemed to be wearing men’s clothing. She stood out and got stares from a lot of the orphans, but what irked me the most was her curly, pale pink hair that sat in a bush on top of her head. She has round glasses and a stern look on her face. As I looked closely, her eyes were the color of gold; like Exuvius’s but his were colder and older (hey, that rhymed!). The other woman: I recognized immediately. It was the woman who manned the counter at Kristian’s shop. Now that I think about it, I recognized the pink-haired girl too.

“Uh, sure, sure,” I responded, tugging on Exuvius’s sleeve. “We’ll be alright here.”

Exuvius furrowed his eyebrows at me. “But I said I’d go with—“

“Code red.”

“Co- Wh- Code? We didn’t have a code red-“

“You can catch up later, Xuvi!” George piped in before running off. Exuvius sighed and looked at me. “Code red? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Calendar.”

“Oh.”

I pointed at the pink-haired girl arguing with Kristian’s employee. Their argument had simmered down to a gentle conversation.

“That one. Pink hair, circle glasses. Those retro glasses weren’t popular until the 1920s,” I said, skittering over to hide behind a flower bush. “And pink hair dye wasn’t a thing until… mid-19th century.”

“What do you want me to do? Say she’s pretty?”

“Yes, she’s pretty. Momentarily, I wish I was her. Look at that dye-job!” I whispered as Exuvius looked at me questioningly. “But, no. That’s Cass. She’s sort of like a ‘General’ in HourQuarters.”

“General? HourQuarters?”

“Where the Calendars reside. Their ‘HQ’”

“Was that a pun?”

“I’m Bisexual. Anyway, by ‘General’ I mean sort of like the leader of their protection squad. She almost never travels unless really necessary.”

“What did you even do?” I didn’t answer.

His eyes darted toward Cass, who was now smiling and happily leaving the conversation with the other girl. “She’s going away.”

“Let her. Just wanted to show you that that’s the girl we’ve gotta steer clear of. There’s a reason she’s General.”

“Good dye-job?” Exuvius guessed, trying to hold back a smile.

I slowly nodded my head. “Good dye-job.”

“What’s a dye-job?”

Exuvius and I jumped from behind the bush, screaming. “AHHH!”

It was just George. He held a 2-foot-tall box tied with a black ribbon. His brown hair had been tied up together into a small ponytail with a red ribbon.

“Let’s go! Ball starts at sunset.”