The child and the fool. Doesn't matter who's who. You can actually ignore this one. It's nothing new.

Break the inside
Hurt in a way you'll like it
Eager to find
Find me another heart

This is how we argue now and it's ludicrous. He does laps around me with the unicycle and I stand in the middle of his circle, eyes closed. We don't talk. I just stand there. It's dumb.

The minute he's in charge I am infantilized again, right back to the good old days.

Brush your teeth, Bridgie. 

Here, Peanut. Have some more carrots. Do you want some milk?

(Do I want milk? No, I don't want any fucking milk. I don't think I'm going to grow any more.)

I'll close this window. It's cooling off. You'll freeze. 

It's late. We need sleep. 

Come here. 

And on and on and I counted about ten or so direct orders in as many hours before I stopped listening altogether. The only reason I came outside tonight is because he asked nicely if I would. As in, Bridget, would you please come outside with me? If he hadn't said please I would still be inside tucked under PJ's arm, reading my book.

Here I am. And there he goes again in another circle. He's waiting for me to talk first. He'll be doing circles all night because I don't plan to.

Seven more circles and I sit down in place, legs crossed, shoulders folded in around me. Making myself small. Chin on my hands, elbows on my knees. PJ comes out, watches this spectacle for a moment and then goes back inside, shaking his head. He doesn't get involved unless he thinks I need protecting. I don't.

Well, some parts do. My heart. My head. And maybe Loch is right. If I would just listen to him, he could direct my life like a film and things would be that much easier.

For him.

I have a personal credo to do everything the hard way, it seems and so I rail against that.

You know, before he left, Ben talked to me too. We have a mutual approach to you. If it makes you happy, it's okay. 

Oh, bullshit. If that was the case I would sleep on the beach every night! Among other things! CHRIST.

That would be dangerous and you'd get cold and...what? What other things?

Things that would MAKE ME HAPPY! 

THEN PICK SOMETHING ELSE TO BE HAPPY ABOUT. Loch roars it back and PJ comes back to the screen door, watching him. I wave him away with one hand.

Treat me like an adult. 

He stops in the middle of an arc and jumps off the cycle. What did you say?

Treat me like an adult. An equal. 

Bridge, this is bes-

Jesus, you won't even CONSIDER it, will you?! I made it this far without you. Surely by now you can see that I'm not a child anymore. 

You made it this far without me? Consider that if you had been 'with' me it would have saved both of us a lot of pain. 

Who's fault is that? I'm on my feet again. He presses his nose down against mine and backs me right across the walkway. PJ comes out and starts to come down the front steps.

PJ, we really need some privacy here. Please.

Right back into the fire. Lochlan is the one who left. He's the one who refuses this role time and time again.

It's the Devil's fault, Bridge.

No, it's yours! 

Then let me try and fix it. For the last time.

What if it's too late? 

We're both here, aren't we? It's not too late, I swear it, Bridget. Jump like your life depends on it already because I think it might. 

What if you aren't there to catch me? 

What if I am? 

But what if you're not? 

Those who are on team Caleb will be pleased to know he didn't make a tactical error in leaving Lochlan and I alone to further bond in his and Ben's absences. True to three decades of historical precedence we can't actually get along long enough to do that.

Tattooed hallelujahs.

Summoned this morning early for a hasty driveway-goodbye, as based on yesterday's words and the general mood of the point Caleb has opted to fly to Toronto for almost all of this coming week to celebrate his retirement with his lawyer friends, some of whom he went to school with, some he worked with for years and years. This is his old boys' network, where letting your hair down involves rolling up your cuffs two whole times, loosening your tie but never actually taking it off and having that second whiskey. They will play golf and test drive each others' cars and talk women and song and it'll be boring to onlookers but great bonding for them. They're all sugar daddies to varying degrees. He's the only truly good-looking one though.

I presented in Hello Kitty shorts and a Rush Snakes & Arrows tour tank top, all bangs and knees. His whole cold attitude crumbled like a cookie when he saw me.

You look rested. 

I am. You? 

Didn't sleep. He pulls out a roll of bills and two cards. For emergencies. Both cards are black. (What sort of emergency will I have? I'm wondering.) I'll be back Friday night. Just need to go play a little golf and see some old faces. I do need you to rebook a meeting I had made for Wednesday. The info is on my desk, if you wouldn't mind. 

I don't mind. 

Thank you. Rebook for a week from now. And maybe by the time I come back the pool will be ready and we can have a late-night swim. 

Maybe. Maybe I'll throw you a Welcome Home pool party. 

That would be good to look forward to. 

Do you want to come up and see Henry before you go?

Let him sleep. I'll call him after lunch. 

Okay. 

Stay safe, Neamhchiontach.

He got into the jeep and PJ saluted me as they headed up the driveway. The Devil blew a kiss which I didn't return. Once they were out of sight I jumped up and punched the air with both fists.

YES! 

From the front porch Lochlan laughed, because he followed me right out the door this morning but I didn't hear him. A ninja in boxers and a Rush t-shirt from the same tour.

Well now, Peanut. Six days with only ourselves to blame for whatever happens next. 

Living the life of Reilly.

It's the colloquialism I hate most.

He's living the life of Reilly. 

No, he isn't, for Jake Reilly is dead and in his place stands his tiny blonde and deaf widow and she isn't in the mood for your wistfulness, your familiarity. Hilarity, it is to her, for she is held prisoner here in your memories instead of being free to go and remember her own. How dare you?

How dare you.

Lochlan and Caleb are both still alive, if it matters. Lochlan only went to tell Caleb to back off. Caleb laughed in his face and that was that, apparently. Lochlan's hands are tied, bound by our past and knotted up in our future and so he is helpless for now and I call the shots.

So I called them as Caleb loaded them in by name. Every bullet is named Bridget, every aim will kill. If he squeezes even a little I will be crushed and a memory unto myself. I don't know if he would ever be frustrated enough to do so, I don't want to be around to find out.

I went to see him and he held the memories to my head, safety off and I told him this isn't how he's going to make me love him, that there are nights and weeks and months and hours between Lochlan and I that no one can supersede. That no one can possibly comprehend.

That's in the past, Neamhchiontach. 

No, that's in the future, Diabhal. It's a future without you. 

He squeezes the trigger and my head explodes, showering us both in glitter and blood. Bits of my heart slide down the walls for who knew that my heart was in my head while my brain thumps against my chest like a drum?

I did, he tells me and he keeps squeezing until the clip is empty and so is my fucking head.

Swimming with the enemy.

Yeah. 

He's going to be my shadow. 

Nine on the dot and he arrives at the kitchen door with a bottle of leftover champagne, two towels and his wetsuit. 

Let's go try the toys I haven't played with yet. 

PJ's eyebrow went up but he didn't say anything. 

Can't. I have a mug of tea in my face so I talk behind it. I have to take Daniel in for his appointment. 

Afterward, perhaps.

Movie date with Joel this afternoon. That's YOUR fault, remember? 

Tonight? 

I stare hard at him. I need notice. Maybe you should do up an envelope.

When are you free next? 

Tomorrow morning. It's Saturday. I don't have any plans. 

Would you like to try the waverunners with me tomorrow then?

I would love to. Also I'll try to pop in and see you later for the field trip and clothes money. And to give you the exam schedule for the kids. 

That would be great. I think I'm going to go try these things out on my own then. No time like the present. 

PJ can't take it and tells Caleb he'll go with him. No one is supposed to go alone and really, he is free since I'm taking Daniel in town.

Really? Okay great. Let's go. Some company would be great. I've got the warming drink for afterward.

Okay but I have to warn you. I look like a naval mine in my wetsuit. 

Is that so?

Yeah but she looks like a vanilla bean in hers so I consider myself lucky. 

What's up? Loch walks in and grabs a mug to pour some tea. 

I'm heading out to take Daniel to the doctor and PJ and Caleb are going to use the wave runners. 

Got room for a third? 

I was about to say no when I realized he wasn't looking at me. 

Caleb's eyes flicker briefly just once and then he turns into a teenager. Yeah. Come on! 

And I wander next door in a daze. 

Hey Bridge. I'm ready. Daniel is putting his wallet and phone in his pocket. He grabs his crutches and waits for me to open the door for him. 

What's wrong?

Nothing. Loch and Caleb and PJ are going waverunning. 

Ah. Nice. 

No, I said Loch and CALEB. 

Oh, I missed that part somehow. 

Yeah. 

Should we stay? Send in reinforcements? Call the military?

No. I guess PJ is there so no one will die. But really, what is Caleb up to? 

He invited Loch and Loch said yes?

No, he invited me and I couldn't go so PJ said he would spot him and then Lochlan walked in and invited himself. It was weird. 

That is weird. But maybe they're trying to be friends. 

I don't know. I'm pretty sure those days are over. 

Then just wait and see. Things will be okay. 

He passes me and I lock the door behind us. I feel like I'm going to cry and I don't know why. Things haven't been okay for thirty-six years. Why would that change now? 

(The bluebird in Winnie the Pooh.)

I'm hung over today and ashamed. Champagne is not friendly fire, it's a weapon of mass destruction and I am a hell of a lightweight target. I couldn't speak in simple sentences by the time Lochlan carried me upstairs.

You'rnt Pooh Bear. You're Owl. Owl knows thing. 'Watch out for the jagulars!' you say. I'm listen. I try.

Oh, Jesus, Bridge, come here.

He opted for a cool shower for both of us while I worked on coherent speech. I felt okay, par for the course as my inebriations seem to affect my verbal and motor-skills first always.

Better?

Possotly.

Time for sleep.

He should haven't named me Kessie. Whyyyyyy.

The bird?

Yeah. Why am me Pigalit?

The annoyance factor, probably.

Thank fuck you.

Yep. Sleepy time, baby.

And lights out for me but then the Devil came to breakfast and he was attentive and helpful and he saw the kids off to school while I gingerly cradled my skull from the inside by gritting my teeth which worked for a time until the rest of the collective appeared and found out I was feeling poorly this morning. They began to talk loudly and slam things around the kitchen as hard as possible because they think it's funny.

I won't ever do that again but rarely do any of us drink to excess these days.

Caleb waits until everyone wanders off with coffee/juice/toast and Lochlan has gone to fetch Daniel and then he looks at me. He hasn't shaved. He's in a slate blue t-shirt and jeans. Bare feet. I kind of want to stare for a while but also I still want to barf.

You should have stayed last night. I would have made sure you remained awake until you felt better.

Such concern for someone who must have refilled my drink six times over.

We were having fun.

Too much fun.

Not enough fun. He stares at my eyes. It's hurting me. I look out at the water.

Are you going to follow me around all the time now that you're retired? Is this what it's going to be like?

Yes. I think I will. At least until the novelty wears off. 

Great. 

It is, indeed. I'm having fun so far. What about you? 

A warning that you wanted.

I invade you now
I take you down
I make you now
I erase you now

Here's to actual retirement, said the Devil, raising his glass, just shy of his original teenage goal in Freedom Fifty-five. This took forever with three false starts in which he poured his assets into one thing after another instead of taking his toys and going home already. He has enough toys. What he needs is a break. This came a complete surprise. I thought he would hold out on me forever and keep working.

I actually didn't think he was serious when I was nine, when in one of the early, numerous fist fights between himself and Lochlan he threw Lochlan down in the dirt and proclaimed his bravado, the kind only utilized by your average egotistical seventeen-year-old.

At least I'm going to be somebody!

Lochlan got up and took Caleb down in a running tackle, oh he of only fourteen tender years at that time and said he was too.

The were both covered with dust, Christian and Cole pulled them apart and told them both they should grow up first of all, before anything else.

And so Caleb became somebody rich and Lochlan became somebody famous but only if you read the local financial papers and only if you know your friendly neighborhood freaks. Otherwise they are just two desperate men looking to grab that brass ring of a heart that belongs to me and only seems to beat really loudly just before it breaks.

Lochlan is going to kill me with books. This will be how I die. He brought home Finders Keepers, the sequel to Mr. Mercedes and I squealed, half in dismay because I put aside King's Revival in order to dig into the Outlander series. I'm never going to catch up.

That's totally fine.

:)

I couldn't talk to Ben today. I didn't have any courage. I couldn't put on a happy face. I can't even think of him without bursting into tears and wondering why my loyalties only seem to ever extend to whatever is within arm's reach instead of what my heart has already mapped out without waiting to consult my brain, who logically went in a completely different direction and is now lost, stranded somewhere I can't easily see.

It isn't fair that I now count Sam as being more forthright with affection in Ben's absence. Making up the difference. Filling in the gaps. An incendiary device in thought, let alone in practice.

And yet still, Lochlan doesn't say a word.

When Matt comes home early I am handed off quietly. Back to PJ, or Duncan or Daniel until Loch comes inside and cleans up. I feel like I'm the national treasure to be guarded. I feel like meat. I feel spent and all cried out and here I was, such a brave little asshole telling Ben to go. Standing up to him as he looked for ways to tear me down, refusing to give in to his plea to say the word and he would stay.

I'm not going to be his regret, keeping him from doing what he lives for.

But maybe I already am.

He says that's insane and I nod because of course it is if it comes from me. He says if things stay this way then we'll be okay when he comes back. We tell ourselves these stupid reasonings so that we can sleep at night but really it's because we have no idea what we're doing here.

I don't see how tomorrow will be different. June wasn't. July won't be. August is over the garage biding his own time until I collapse from this weight and September is a lifetime away.

The Devil took the call in my place and probably told so many lies Ben will never bother coming back at all if it weren't for Daniel but that remains to be seen. Ben won't just accept whatever Caleb tells him but Caleb has a long history of promising to help Ben all the while twisting a knife in his back. I can't count on the Devil to smooth things over. I made this mess myself and I'm not mature or decisive enough to sort it out now so what do I do?

I pick up the phone and stare at Ben's picture. Five missed calls and eighty-one text messages and I press the button again to turn the screen off while I turn my face back in against Sam's blazer because it's better than trying to be brave.

For me it's not memory lane. It's more like an eight-lane highway. It's the TransBridget.

(A seventeen and twelve to offset the aftertaste from yesterday's twenty-four and seventeen.)

Overdue, where did it all go wrong
and I'm too soon, where did it all go wrong?

I wasn't allowed to order french fries just now. My nose is really stuffed up, my throat raw to the point where I cried out for a drink at three in the morning and Loch resorted to giving me a tiny sip of very warm beer.

He was gone and back at six with groceries as a result. Cough medicine. Juice. An ice pack and tylenol. Today I'm only leaving the camper for lunch. He'll bring dinner home with him but since I feel okay right this second, he risks putting me behind him on the motorcycle for the eight-minute trip down the highway to the diner.

Now that we're here, he has ordered for both of us. Spicy chicken soup. It comes with a roll, butter and a drink of choice. He ordered orange juice for me and for himself too. He's going to get sick within the week. I always seem to get it first. He said that's because I'm smaller and weaker, but he's not saying it to be mean, that's just the way it is.

While we pick at our rolls waiting for soup I start carving a little army out of my pat of butter. It's as hard as a rock. Soon the tiny standing army has taken shape and Loch is mesmerized for a long time before talking about nothing, like we always do when we're waiting for food. We've covered everything there is to say so the only thing we have left is the same questions with more entertaining, surprising answers. It's fun.

What do you want to be when you grow up, Bridgie? 

I think I'll be an astronaut. 

Oh, hey now, what gives? Last week you were going to be a ballerina!

I've decided it looks boring and I get wedgies really easily so no. 

But tutus! 

I will wear them with my astronaut costume. 

Is it a costume? 

A uniform? No-a suit! It's a spacesuit. 

So a spacesuit with a tutu. I'll be able to figure out which one you are from my telescope. 

I'll wave. You'll know it's me. (I am serious. Also naive..)

True. You'll probably be the smallest. I'll find you. What will your job be in space? 

I will choose new colors and paint the planets. I bet they are overdue for a fresh paintjob.

All of them? You're going to be gone a while. 

No, see, I'm making an army of butter astronauts. Butter-nauts. They will be tasked with doing my bidding in space. 

You're going to rule space now? 

Maybe. 

A little mean ballerina-naut?

Ballerinaut. And I won't be mean. Everyone will get lots of space soup to eat. I will be friendly AND generous. 

Nice. So you're going to bring these guys with you into space instead of spreading them on the roll?

No, silly. These ones know their fate already. Onto the roll they go. I squish them flat against the bread with a very serious expression and we both laugh. I start coughing, barking like a seal and everyone in the diner turns to look at me.

I guess we'd better go back home so you can have a sleep and feel better. 

I feel fine, Locket.

But if you have a dream you can finalize your plans for space. Maybe pick some of your colors out. If you like. 

Will you stay with me? 

Of course. I'm going to be the first one who hears what colors the plantets are going to be next. That's an honor, you know. 

It is. Hey, Loch? 

Yes? 

Thank you for the soup. It's really good. 

You don't have to thank me. It's probably my fault you're sick in the first place. It's still not very warm at night yet in the camper. 

Yes it is. 

You think so? 

Well, you are warm and I sleep right there, I point at his chest, and so I'm warm too. 

He smiles but he doesn't say anything and I pick up my bowl to make sure I eat every last drop of soup.