Human Spines

Noticing Sickness-V

Hans

        I should try knitting. We should all try knitting. We could sit while we knit from our make-a-scarf kit. I'd be fun. Like Thing One and Thing Two are supposed to be. But they're not and I don't know what to do about it.

        The first JIBBOO, the one they called the Sibling, is Thing Two. At least that's what the circle on her tattered dress indicated. Her body is that of a slight young woman, repeatedly dipped in bleach then lain out to dry in the middle of the desert with the noon sun blazing down upon her leathery skin. She walks as if splinters of wood clog her veins and the air around her feet is made of sandpaper. With every movement she makes, I can see the discomfort of her tender wounds. There's no hope in her mind for a moment of relief from her body. She sees herself as a terrible thing. And she knows how to spread her depression.

        But Thing One... Thing One is absolutely everywhere. Every shine, every glisten, every reflection of sunlight, comes together to create the most perfectly sculpted creature of black light possible. He's like the sun, but silver and covered in black lace, the label of "Thing One" carved into his chest, a perfect circle enclosing the letters. His eyes contain no pain, no physical discomfort, but enough worry to flood every ocean. He masks his concern with his large stature, glaring a hole into Thing Two. But I look into his black and white galaxy eyes and see love. Not as much love as his worry and definitely not as much love as what fuels the Grinch but still, so much love, and barely an ounce of hate. But why so much worry?

        He's looking at Thing Two and I see. She has caused so much damage and will cause so much more. I see what he sees. I see what I need to apologize to Emmeline for. How her sister has done everything but successfully murder herself. How every day the battle in her head is like an order to retrieve a flag from a mountain top but she's directed to an empty chasm, the red flag crushed under a rock five thousand feet down. And when she finally asks for a rope, they provide her with yet another pit, sneering, or pitying her inability to complete "such a simple task."

        I see how Thing Two could do so much worse to Dumaine. I can see, through a pinhole, the danger Dumaine could bring, Emmeline could bring, even I could bring to any and all. I see the possible broken ankles, past, present and future, from the cracks in the sidewalk. I see the potential threat of a past rapist around the corner, a plotting thief down the street, and a future murderer across the road. I see every danger of this location. And it hurts. My brain is searing with the knowledge that, if I step to my right, my chances of living decrease nineteen percent and I can see every reason why.

        Now I understand Thing One's worry. He can't warn everyone of every danger at all times. Especially since he's everywhere, seeing all over the world at once. Thing One is amazing. When he isn't murdering anyone because he's stressed. I see his dark side too.

        Not even the Grinch would stand a chance against a panicked Thing One. But I see that he would never hurt the Grinch. Or Emmeline. Actually he might specifically want to hurt Emmeline. I see his mind changing, too.

        But now both Things are gone.

Emmeline

        There are no Demons on this bus, and I feel extremely uncomfortable sitting so close to Hans. Dumaine made me sit between himself and Hans because he wants me to talk to him. But I don't want to talk to Hans. He doesn't think one person being mentally ill is a problem that needs to currently be dealt with. An opinion both he and my grandfather would have shared.

        "I can see... you're comparing me to your grandfather. And I apologize for my... old man tendencies to be obsolete and ignorant. Things I don't truly understand quickly frighten me. I'm sorry for overlooking—"

        "Your apology is too long." I shut him up "I understand you now understand, good, cool. But I still don't like the thought of your thoughts, so shhhhh," I don't lie, that would be rude.

        "Emmeline!" Dumaine aggressively whispers as he leans down beside me. "That was incredibly rude! He was apologizing!"

        "Exactly." I cross my arms. "I don't want his apology. I don't want to sit next to him. I don't want—"

        "Why? What's so wrong?" He looks like he's actually angry with me, but I know he's not.

        My voice drops. "I don't like being afraid of an old man..." I stare and hope he sees the amount of fear I haven't let myself acknowledge is in me. "So I've chosen to be angry with him instead."

        Dumaine's mouth opens, and closes, and opens, and stays closed. I like his mouth, it says some of the most interesting things. And it looks funny as he tries to form words.

        I stand directly in front of him. "Can we switch seats now?"

Thank you all so much for reading! Don't forget to vote and comment!