Trust Me

“How did you manage to persuade the doctor to let me go?” Octavia asked as Vinyl drove very carefully in the left lane. She felt very content with her lover being at her side, and not in a hospital. It felt like the good old days were coming back. Devil Octavia slapped her on the cheek: Idiot! You never think something like this!

“Oh, I seduced her.” Vinyl kept humming peacefully as she loomed over the wheel and looked in the rear mirror, hoping to change lanes.

“I see, that-” Octavia froze in place. “Wait, you did what?”

“I seduced her,” Vinyl said simply, changing lanes to make a U-turn. “While you were asleep after our lovemaking, I went on and sexed her.” A thin blush covering Vinyl’s cheeks gave away the fact that the joke she’d made was even more embarrassing for her than for the addressee of the joke. “I mean, we have a free relationship and all.”

“We don’t have a-” Octavia noticed the blush and the smile and exhaled in content, leaning back in her seat. “You’re joking. Of course you are joking.” She waved her index finger in the air. “You almost got me.” With love in her eyes, she sent Vinyl a floating kiss, knowing a real one would distract the novice driver.

“Well, I am allowed to joke today,” Vinyl said, finally making a graceless U-turn, cursing under her breath as a passing crossover almost hit her, beeping at her loudly. “It’s my birthday, after all.”

“Yeah…” Octavia closed her eyes with a nod. Then her eyes shot wide open. “Wait, what?!” she questioned for the second time in the last five minutes. “It’s your birthday?!”

“I’m turning twenty-three,” Vinyl replied, blinking the light to get to make a turn. “Happy birthday to me!” She laughed - as it seemed, merrily, but Octavia noticed the notes of sadness beneath it, and not the general sadness that was always present, the care for her brother, but a new, sad sadness that-

The crash happened so quickly that Octavia couldn’t understand what had hit them. The car spun, with Vinyl dropping the wheel and pressing the brake into the floor. Octavia felt the metal of the car pressed into her left shoulder, the uninjured one - a weird, unpleasant sensation. The car stopped, with Vinyl’s foot still on the brake and Octavia in an uncomfortable position, the smashed left half of the car pressuring her badly.

With effort, the cellist managed to get her arms out and shook Vinyl furiously. “Vinyl! Vinyl! Are you all right?!” The spinner didn’t reply, just staring ahead with empty eyes. Groaning, Octavia slapped her girlfriend across the cheek to get her out of the stupor. Vinyl slowly turned her head. “Vinyl! Are you okay? Did the glass shards hit you?”

Vinyl shook her head. Only then did Octavia realise there were no glass shards, and that the whole accident was less of a catastrophe that she’d imagined. Only the dent in the left side of the car was evident; otherwise, it seemed all right, if not fine. “Tavi!” Vinyl finally came to her senses. “You’re bleeding!”

Octavia glanced at her left side, but saw nothing.Is Vinyl having hallucinations now? “No I’m not.” Then she glanced at her right shoulder and saw that, indeed, the wound was bleeding through the thick bandage, soaking her shirt in red. “Damn. That knife got deeper than I’d thought.”

“A knife?” Vinyl almost shouted, looking at the blood, trying to come up with a solution. “You’re telling me you got stabbed?!”

Octavia nodded slowly. “Yeah… I mean…” She shrugged. “How else would I have got this wound?” She tried to open the door, but it was stuck and, frankly, dented in such a manner that it was unlikely it’d ever open again.

“I dunno!” Vinyl winced painfully. “I mean…” She tried to gesticulate, which didn’t seem very effective, given the position they were in. “I thought you had cut yourself!”

“Why would I cut myself?!” Octavia countered.

Before an argument could break out, the door to the driver’s seat opened and in looked a weird, tall young woman with mint-green hair and a piercing in her ear. “Hey, you all right there? I beeped at you but-” She froze as she saw exactly who she was talking to. “Vinyl? Vinyl Scratch?!”

Vinyl winced and glanced at the woman. Ugh. More fans. Not today. “Yeah, the one and-” Suddenly, she squinted her eyes, scrutinising the woman’s facial features. “Wait. Wait wait wait… Lyra? Lyra Heartstrings?!” A wide grin appeared on Vinyl’s face. “Lyra! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Excitedly, Vinyl turned towards her cellist. “Tavi, this is Lyra Heartstrings, my childhood friend. She moved away from the city about eight years ago, moving to a secluded village or something.” Vinyl turned towards the mint-haired woman. “Lyra, this is my girlfriend, Octavia Philarmonica. How come you’re back? Why did you dye your hair? What-”

Octavia cleared her throat audibly. “I would love to see you two exchange pleasantries, but can we please leave the car? I think five more minutes and I’ll bleed out all over again.

“Oh, of course! I, uh!” Vinyl grabbed Octavia by the hand, tugging at it - a gesture that only intensified the cellist’s pain. “Oh, Tavi, I’m so sorry!” She looked at her woman hopelessly.

However, Lyra came to the rescue. She grabbed Vinyl by the shoulders and practically ejected her out of the car. “Vinyl. In my car, there’s a first aid kit. Grab it and get here. Now.”

She smiled at the frowning and wincing Octavia. “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile. “I am a doctor.”

***

“Could you tell me a bit about your parents?”

Neon looked around. The desk was buried under a chaotic pile of papers. Neon could relate: to counter his neatness, his obsession with things being in their places, he had learnt to create chaos as well. Nothing from something.

The clock on the wall was yellow and made of plastic. An image of a happy chicken drawn by “Stephanie, 8 YO” adorned the wall next to the clock. The flowers in the corner vase had long died, now mere reminders of their once beautiful image and once delicious scent. The doctor was looking at him expectantly, not hurrying him up, but not giving him an option to escape this thread of conversation.

“I only talk about my father when I’ve had some alcohol in me,” Neon said fairly, proud that he wasn’t exactly lying. Well, almost.

The black man chuckled and reached under the table, taking out a bottle of brandy. “What a coincidence,” he said with a smile. “Now, I know this sounds barbaric, but there’s an alcohol ban in this hospital so we’ll have to use plastic cups.” With that, he motioned towards the cooler in the corner of the room.

Neon rose from his seat and walked towards the cooler. “Sometimes I doubt it that you’re a doctor,” he said half-jestingly, taking two plastic cups from the dispenser. “Smoking and drinking aren’t exactly healthy activities.”

“Oh, they aren’t,” the doctor agreed with a nod. “But you have to forgive me: I’m a mental doctor, not a GP. So,” he concluded, motioning for Neon to sit and pouring them both a little brandy, “are you ready to say something now?”

Neon sipped on the drink slowly, trying to come up with the right words. “I...  Uh.”

“It’s interesting how the first word that comes out of your mouth when you’re unsure what to say is ‘I’, isn’t it?” The doctor poured Neon a little more. “Shows something in our nature, I guess.”

“He wasn’t a bad dad,” Neon tried, finishing the brandy in one gulp. His throat hurt a little. “I mean, he did, uh, did do bad things to us, but… We kinda…” The man groaned and shook his head. “I can’t tell you. I know that if I keep talking, I’ll break down into tears or something. And,” he interrupted before the shrink could ever speak, “while you may say how important it is to cry, I’m sure not crying here before you.”

The doctor shrugged. “I am not telling you to open up your heart at once.” He put the brandy away, despite Neon’s longing gaze. Instead, he took out the now-familiar pack of cigarettes. “Just tell me the basics. And,” he clarified, “I don’t mean how it affected your sister or your mother…” He glanced at the papers. “May she rest in peace. I want you to tell me how it affected you. Your relationship with your father, Ni- Neon.”

Neon looked at the painting by Stephanie closely. The chicken looked way too happy for an animal who was about to be slaughtered and turned into a meal. “My sister called me today. Said she was coming to visit me with her girlfriend. They had made peace or something. But she got into a car crash.” Seeing the doctor wince, he clarified, “No, nothing happened. Just… Vinyl has always been a bad driver. It’s just the car that’s broken, that’s all. But that means it’ll be a while before they get here.” The man sighed deeply and looked at the doctor. “Look, can we do it like a question-and-answer kind of thing?”

“No,” the psychiatrist said softly. “It is important that you tell me that by yourself. You have to be the one who’s opening up. Look,” he suggested, “do you like writing?”

Neon shook his head. “I get where this is going. You’ll tell me to write about my dad. Seen this in The Great Gatsby. The version with DiCaprio.” He paused, pondering. “Damn, it’s really high time Leo got an Oscar.”

“Well, you’re connected to music, right?” the doctor tried another way. “So why don’t you sing to me about your dad?” The black man smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. “Just a short song depicting maybe one occasion - or just…”

“I’ll have to write the score first,” Neon interrupted, “and I don’t think I want to do it now.”

“Not necessarily,” the doctor objected. “Just take an old song and sing it with new words. Don’t worry, we’re copyright-friendly in this establishment.”

Once more Neon looked at the happy chicken. Maybe this was worth a try? Even though he could barely understand why he was coming here, he wasn’t exactly familiar with psychotherapeutic techniques, so he had to trust the doc here. Besides it was still a while until Vinyl came…

Neon sighed and began to sing:

“Little Nini had a dream, E-I-E-I-O…

To win a place in football team, E-I-E-I-O~

His daddy didn’t care for him, E-I-E-I-O…”

Neon chuckled at the stupidity of his behaviour. “I’m breaking the rhythm here, aren’t I…”

“That’s fine.” The doctor put down his pen after scribbling down a few words. “It’s very good, please carry on.”

“Nini hoped he would be there,

Daddy wasn’t anywhere, E-I-E-I-O…”

Neon gulped, his voice growing stronger, giving a chilly, minor tone to the childhood song. It felt as if he was weaving all his pain, all the trauma into the tune:

“Daddy beat him up all day, E-I-E-I-O…

And Nini thought it was okay, E-I-E-I-O…

Nini grew and kicked his ass

Never ever made amends, E-I-E-I-O…”

Tears showed up in Neon’s eyes but he kept singing, the tone of sadness matched only by the anger in his trembling voice, by the malice that dripped from the notes, the dark, evil undertone:

“Nini came to Daddy’s grave, E-I-E-I-O…

Kicked the stone, thought he felt great, E-I-E-I-O…

Daddy always haunts his dreams,

Never stops, or so it seems…”

He sang in a low voice, slowing down the tempo: “E-I… E-I… Ooooo…” He thought he would cry, but, surprisingly, almost all of the pain was gone, replaced by a weird, empty sorrow within. He didn’t hesitate to inform the doctor of that.

“It’s all right,” the shrink assured, passing his patient a cigarette and a lighter. “For today, that’s enough. Here, take another one.” He put the pack back in his pocket. “Trying to cut down on tobacco and alcohol,” he explained with a laugh. “So far, isn’t working all that well.”

“Keep trying, doc,” Neon said with a sad smile. The chicken was as happy as ever. Of course. It didn’t have a chicken-dad and a chicken-sister to look after or a chicken-label to take care of.

He sighed and got up from the chair. “That’s what I keep telling myself anyway.”

***

“...So I decided to help those in need and I’ve been circling the country to give people medical aid,” Lyra finished explaining as the three women sat in a nearby coffee shop while their insurance agents argued outside. “I would have called, but believe me, in most of those places, there’s no cell phone service.” With that, Lyra munched on the strawberry cake she’d ordered.

“Ha.” Vinyl laughed, giving Octavia a soft elbow. Octavia felt bizarre: Vinyl was easy-going and open and even bawdy, and there was no shy girl with complexes that Octavia had come to see Vinyl as. “Cell phone. Have you been touring the US of A?”

“Almost.” Lyra chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. “South Africa. Next month I’m going to Brazil. Those BRICS guys hired me for their new Free Healthcare for All programme.” She leant back on the back of the chair, revealing how… shapely she was, despite being rather flat. Octavia felt her mouth watering. Angel Octavia shook her head in disapproval. Devil Octavia began drafting the Threesome Scheme.

“Why are you here?” Vinyl wondered, quickly amending herself: “I mean, it’s great that you’re here, but… you haven’t visited the city in a long while, so…” Vinyl blushed and looked at Octavia, who cheered innerly for her once again shy and reluctant girlfriend. To boost Vinyl’s confidence, she wrapped her arm around Vinyl’s neck.

“I’m getting hitched,” Lyra replied simply, putting the tea down with a bright smile. “I’m marrying the love of my life, Bon-Bon, and she wants us to get married in the city to make it all epic and pompous. God knows I would opt for a quiet country wedding, but oh well.”

“Bon-Bon?” Octavia finally spoke up. “That’s… an interesting name.” Yes, Devil Octavia jested, and Lyra is an ordinary name. Of course. Ashamed of herself, the cellist dug into her ice cream, which, by now, was more liquid than solid.

Lyra laughed. “Her full name is Bonnibel Bonaparte.” Catching Octavia’s horrified look, she nodded. “Yes, the descendant of Napoleon, if her family tree doesn’t lie.” Still seeing confusion in Octavia’s eyes, she clarified, “Lyra isn’t my full name either. I’m Larisa, but Vinyl has been calling me Laura, then Lyra since we were kids. So I guess-” She finished the tea. “-the name stuck.”

“That’s cute.” Vinyl nodded. “I mean, you will get to travel around the world with your wife… That’s amazing!” the spinner concluded, closing her eyes dreamily.

“Yeah…” Lyra half-confirmed. “I guess Brazil will be fine, but then India and especially Russia… Don’t know if we’ll be treated all right there.” The frown on her face quickly made way to a smile. “But I’m sure that, while we’re together, everything will be fine. So.” She looked at the pair, with Vinyl’s head resting on Octavia’s uncut shoulder. “Have you two thought about getting married?”

“No,” Vinyl said with a laugh, precisely at the same time that Octavia whispered, “Yes.” In the ensuing silence, the spinner turned to face her girlfriend slowly. “You have?” she asked in a hushed tone, disregarding Octavia’s unease. “Really?”

“Oh, look at me!” Lyra laughed out loud artificially and scribbled on the napkin. “Time to run, so much to do! Leave you two alone here’s my phone number in case you need me really gotta go kay thanks bye!” With that, the woman stormed out of the coffee shop, blushing and laughing at the same time.

“She didn’t pay,” Octavia noted without breaking eye contact with her woman.

“You have considered the idea of us getting married?” Vinyl asked slowly, as if unable to believe it was Octavia in front of her.

“Yes…” Octavia confirmed, getting anxious. “I mean, I know I look like I’m kinda a wanderer, but I… Yes,” she said with more determination than her voice had ever carried. “Yes, I have thought about tying my life to you, forever and beyond. Because I love you, Vinyl. More than anything.”

Vinyl opened her mouth to speak, but closed it in an instant. It felt like she wanted to say something, something important, but either couldn’t find the guts to say it or didn’t want to say it right then. Instead, she sighed and looked at the clock. “Let’s get going, Tavi. We still have to visit Neon.”

***

“I am sorry.”

Neon raised his brow, lying in bed in his cheap tracksuit. A paper with a pen lay next to him on the little desk he’d moved up to the bed. On it, a half-finished portrait of Vinyl made in pencil smiled at the two women who stood uneasily in the room.

“I really am sorry,” Octavia repeated, looking at her toes, unable to lift her eyes to see Neon’s no doubt judging gaze. “I shouldn’t have taken your sister from you. We should have sorted this thing out, the three of us. I was wrong. I promise I will be more caring and wise from now on.” She finally lifted her eyes, but saw no malice, no judgement in Neon’s eyes. “Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?”

“Sure.” Neon nodded. “I mean, I find it hard to believe that people change, but hey, I’m the one in an asylum here.” The man laughed and took up the paper. “Look, sis, I’m drawing you.”

Vinyl took the paper reverently, like a sacred book, like a scripture. She looked at… well, at herself. The soft lines of her chin and the bold lines depicting the hair. The radiant smile on her face, frozen in its beauty. The slight nod of the head on an unfinished neck. Shades drafted on her forehead, in a manner she hadn’t worn her shades in years. “It’s…”

“Beautiful,” finished Octavia, staring at the paper in awe. “It is beautiful. The only thing that is more beautiful is Vinyl herself,” she said breathlessly, not daring touch the masterwork.

“So you do have it for my sister, huh.” Neon rubbed his chin and took up the paper back. He stretched and got up from the sofa, walking towards the window, where the sun was far from setting, illuminating this warm evening with its soft, gentle rays.

“Nini, I thought you didn’t draw!” Vinyl exclaimed in surprise, looking at the paper. “I’ve never seen you… draw before?” She halted, seeing as her brother was looking out in the street silently.

“Maybe I was wrong,” he said finally, without looking away from the street, with its simple summer splendour. Neon sighed and took out the cigarette the doctor had gifted him with. Vinyl tried to protest, but the man had already lit it.

Taking a drag, Neon finally looked over his shoulder. “Maybe people really do change.”