Poem: "Because We Have a Song"
Sep. 29th, 2022 02:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ysabetwordsmithThis poem is spillover from the July 5, 2022 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by a prompt fuzzyred. It also fills the "calf" square in my 7-1-22 card for the Body Parts Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series.
"Because We Have a Song"
[Tuesday, September 20, 2016]
Shiv was just getting himself
together to face the day when
Boss White knocked on the door.
No, it was Mister White now,
he was real firm about that so
Shiv had to try and remember,
no matter how hard it was.
"Morning," Shiv said as he
pulled the door open wider.
"Good morning," said Mr. White.
"Come on down to the beach with me,
there's someone I want you to meet."
"Okay?" Shiv said, bemused. "Who?
Do I need to do anything special?"
Mr. White nodded. "Wear something
that you don't mind getting wet,
and bring your horn," he said.
"To the beach?" Shiv said.
There were places sand didn't
belong, and anywhere near
his saxophone was one.
"It'll be fine as long as you
don't drop it in the sand,
and besides, it's probably
scratchproof by now,"
said Mr. White. "You're
gonna want it with you."
Over the years, Shiv's power
had soaked into his sax, smoothing
the dings and scratches that it had
picked up before it reached him.
He hadn't made it Invulnerable
on purpose, but yeah, sand
probably couldn't scratch it now.
He still wasn't putting it down
on the damn beach, though.
"Okay, give me five minutes,"
Shiv said. "I need to change."
"I'll meet you out front,"
Mr. White said as he left.
Shiv hustled to change
clothes for the outing
and unknown activities.
Aida had sent him a stack
of cabana sets made with
some new gizmotronic fiber
recycled from plastic, but it
felt velvety like rayon and
dried almost instantly if wet.
Each set had board shorts
long enough to cover his knees,
a short-sleeved button-up shirt --
both with waterproof zip pockets --
and a matching bucket hat.
Shiv loved them all, and he
happily put on the blue paisley.
He slapped a Sunspot on his hand,
grabbed his sax, and headed out.
The lazy sprawl of Kurumba Village
on Vihamanaafushi Island was pretty
as they walked past various buildings.
The beach was pure white sugar sand,
made of worn-down coral, or so Aida
had told him at considerable length.
It sure looked beautiful, though.
"Out on the dock," Mr. White said,
leading the way across the beach.
"We'll make the hookup there."
"Your guy works on the water?"
Shiv said, looking out at the boats
sailing lazily past. Dhonis, he
recognized from the game.
Mr. White laughed. "Yeah,
I guess you could say that."
The wooden dock was
worn smooth by wind and
sand and sun, its boards
weathered to a silver-gray
barely darker than the beach.
"Morning, Steel," said Mr. White,
although there was nobody in sight.
Then the name sank in. "Oh hey,
Aida's whale friend!" Shiv exclaimed.
He looked out over the waves,
trying to spot the huge whale.
A soft sound made him look down.
There, just beyond the dock,
was a gray head as big as a car.
An eye the size of a baseball
looked up at him, blinking and
almost disappearing into the head
whenever a wave lapped over it.
"Holy shit," Shiv breathed.
Now that he was paying attention
in the right direction, Shiv could feel
the whale beneath him, the vast skeleton
and truly epic collection of body jewelry and
fucking hell was a that spear in his head?
Harpoon, a voice whispered. From
a battle long ago. Good morning,
white calf, it is good to meet you
in person. I have heard much
about you from our podmates.
Used to be, Shiv would've
worried over people telling
stories about him, but he knew
the Finns, and besides, the voice
carried a sense of affection.
It was like listening to the sea
inside a shell, only about
a zillion times bigger.
"Hi, Steel," said Shiv,
wriggling with excitement.
"It's good to meet you too.
Aida talks and talks about you."
She talks and talks about
everything within the ocean,
Steel sent with a rumbling laugh.
"Yeah, but she likes you and
Moderato more," said Shiv.
True, Steel sent. We are
podmates. It is strange
to swim with landers,
but we have learned
much from each other.
Everything Steel said
had a kind of undercurrent
to it, carrying along bits of
memory and old emotions
like sand or leaves swept
along with the water.
Even the sounds went
through everything, from
the boards of the dock to
Shiv's bones, a faint vibration
like a speaker set to ultra-bass.
Deep rolling groans and grunts
interspersed with sharp clicks
like a radio going on the fritz.
Steel sounded nothing like
the musical voices of humpbacks
from the New Age shit that Shiv
had heard Cas' mother put on.
This was like smoky jazz to
their church-organ choir song,
backed with Steel's feelings
like the wide water of the ocean.
It made Shiv want to rub himself
against it, like he sometimes did
with the big box speakers at home.
You wish to nuzzle? Steel sent,
pleased. That is good for podmates.
And then there was a whale in Shiv's head.
Steel fit as neatly and gracefully inside
as he did in the small harbor, floating
in place without disturbing a thing.
Shiv felt warm and safe and adored
in the embrace of that vast mind.
He purred, stropping himself
against it the way he did with
his moving-right-along hugs,
and was met with a sense
of startled familiarity.
Well yeah, whales didn't
have arms, so it stood
to reason that they would
have to do hugs differently.
If body-cuddling felt this good
to normal people, no wonder
they were so obsessed with it.
Shiv never had understood that,
but he sure got the idea now.
Presently it occurred to him
to wonder, "How's come you
like me? Most folks don't."
You remind me of someone,
Steel sent, but the undercurrent
of emotions shut off suddenly,
like someone closing a seagate.
Shiv recognized that from Boss White
keeping folks out of his past messes,
so he knew not to pry about it.
"You boys gonna gab all day,
or are we gonna start jammin'
some time?" said Mr. White.
"What kind of question is
that?" Shiv said, laughing.
"You think a whale is gonna
have an answer to that?"
Whales do not sing because
we have an answer, Steel sent.
We sing because we have a song.
And wasn't that why everyone sang,
or made music? Especially jazz.
That and the sense of Steel
having as fucked-up a past
as Shiv made him pause.
"You sure that's safe?"
Shiv said, looking around
at the beach full of people. "If
folks come to a jazz joint, they
know what they're getting into.
Out here, they're not expecting
music to rip their hearts out."
"I'll keep an eye on things, and
let you know if you're getting
too intense," said Mr. White.
"Works for me," Shiv said.
He really wanted to jam.
Mr. White had brought
his own saxophone, and
two saxes together made
a pretty good start whether
you wanted jazz or blues.
They had a lead horn and
a backup, but nothing for
chords or rhythm, so that
was all on Steel, whatever
he could come up with having
heard neither jazz nor blues.
The whale chuckled. I have,
actually, heard both. Heron
likes to share unusual music.
That ought to make this interesting.
Mr. White provided Steel with
a brief introduction to "jamming"
and how it worked, then began.
Shiv followed along easily,
because he was used
to following Mr. White.
Steel picked up a memory
of snare drums and was
quite good at mimicking that,
then drifted into experiments
inspired by guitar and piano.
Riffling through their memories,
Steel settled on something that --
amusingly -- sounded quite a lot
like steel-string guitar, which
pushed the music toward blues.
Steel's feelings welled up, as
deep and rich as the rest of him.
Shiv knew what that was like, too,
and he let the melancholy move
through him and spill out his horn.
Saxophones wailed around
each other, accented by
the sharp clicks and creaks
that Steel made underneath.
Shiv wasn't sure how much
of the whale's contribution
would carry far from the water,
and how much was only audible
because Shiv and Mr. White were
standing on a dock right over him.
Of course, the mental link helped
by letting them all share senses.
Bit weird, getting that spillover
of how a whale heard-saw-felt
the world underwater, but it
went great with the blues.
The music flowed up and
out like water from a fountain,
deep and achingly beautiful
at the root, sparkling in the sun.
By the time they finished, Shiv
was soaked in sweat and
practically gasping for breath.
He'd only had his horn
for a couple of years,
and he really wasn't
used to performing
like this with it yet.
Even so, jamming with
a sperm whale had been
an awesome experience.
Mr. White gave Shiv
a nod of approval.
When Shiv turned
around to put his horn
back in its case, though,
he saw a half-circle of
people gathered around.
Some of them looked like
they'd just been crying.
With the show over,
the crowd started
to scatter, so Shiv
just ignored them
as best he could.
"That was mighty fine,"
said Mr. White. "We
ought to do that again
some time, if you like."
"Yeah, I'm smooth with it,"
Shiv said, and below them,
Steel rumbled agreement.
Even on the dock, it was
hot and he'd worn himself out.
With a sigh, Shiv dangled
his feet over the edge of
the dock, but they did not
quite reach the surface
of the turquoise water.
Do you wish to come in?
Steel said. This place is
for ships, not swimmers,
but I can stay between
you and the boats.
Shiv was tempted,
but only about half.
He'd gone to a local pool
in Omaha, and he had even
gotten a few lessons in
how not to drown from
a swim teacher in training,
but he still wouldn't call
himself a good swimmer.
Besides, the ocean was
a zillion times bigger
than a swimming pool.
You cannot drown
when you are with me,
Steel assured him.
I will keep you safe.
Naturally Shiv recalled
how one of his foster sisters
had tried to drown him
during a beach trip.
Then something pushed
the memory down and
made it stay there, like
sitting on a suitcase until
it latched. Impressive.
"You're sure?" said Shiv.
"I mean, how can you
keep me from drowning?"
Move your feet lower and
you will see, Steel sent.
Curious, Shiv wiggled
forward until his butt was
just resting on the edge
of the dock and his feet --
-- touched what should
have been water but felt
like the waterbed he'd been
told not to jump on but did.
Hesitantly, Shiv pushed off
the dock and stood upon
the wobbly, rubbery surface.
"Forcefield?" he guessed.
Graham called it telekinesis,
said Steel. I am holding you up
so you don't sink into the water.
"Neat trick," Shiv said. "But
how'm I supposed to cool off?"
A moment later, he was sinking,
very slowly, into the lapping wavelets.
Then Shiv felt something else firm
and rubbery underneath his feet.
Looking down, he realized
that Steel had extended
a big flipper under him.
Shiv scooched down so
he could get the rest of
him properly wet, sitting
on Steel's flipper like it
was a usual thing to do.
Once he was wet, Steel
rolled under him, gently
scooping Shiv up to where
he could sit on the whale.
Watch out for barnacles,
Steel warned. They are sharp.
"I like sharp things," Shiv said,
though the combination of that
and salt water might not be great.
I know, said Steel. Please do not
get blood in the water. It excites
the sharks, and I am not supposed
to ram them in protected areas.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be careful,"
Shiv said. He could see
a few patches growing on
Steel's skin, like white rocks
against the smooth gray skin.
Come to that, Steel was
all over scars, crossing
and recrossing each other.
Like you, I am better now
that I have different people
in my life, Steel sent.
Shiv got the sense that
Steel understood him
better than anyone else
except maybe Mr. White.
Smiling, Shiv stretched out
and enjoyed the cooling effect
of water on his quick-drying clothes.
Lounging on Steel's broad back
felt surprisingly comfortable,
and the sun made him drowsy.
A spout of water and whale snot
woke him from his half-doze.
Do not fall asleep in the sun,
white calf. That I cannot
protect you from, Steel sent.
Shiv looked at his Sunspot,
now orange heading for red,
and groaned. "Yeah, I shoulda
gone in a good ten minutes ago."
A swift swoop and drop deposited
him delicately back on the dock.
Now you are out, Steel sent.
Come again when your skin
is rested. I will show you more.
"I look forward to that," Shiv said.
"Thanks for the jam and the swim."
"Well I'll be stuffed," Mr. White said
as they walked back up the dock.
"That damn whale actually likes
you. I wouldn't have believed it
if I hadn't just felt it for myself."
"You don't have to rub it in,"
Shiv grouched. "I know
I'm nobody's idea of fun."
"Naw, that's not what I meant,"
said Mr. White. "Steel don't
like nobody with legs, and
he ain't quiet about that.
He's got his reasons, too."
Shiv had heard about that
from the Finns, but ... but.
"He didn't feel like that
to me," Shiv said. "At all.
I mean, yeah, Steel isn't
the kind to hide his feelings,
but they were real clear.
He likes me just fine."
"And ain't that a mystery,
but I am glad he's found
someone he likes other than
Moderato," said Mr. White.
"Then why'd you introduce
us if you didn't think that
he'd like me?" Shiv huffed.
"Because you're family and
you oughta know each other,"
said Mr. White. "Besides, I didn't
think Steel would dislike you. He's
just not the affectionate type. I
figured you'd get on all right,
and there's the music too."
Had they even met
the same guy?
Steel was cozier
than anyone else
Shiv had ever met,
except for the Finns,
who were exceptions
to just about everything.
Shiv put it all aside
to puzzle over later.
Right now, his belly
was growling for lunch,
and he had a tropical island
full of seafood to explore.
"Thanks for bringing me
to meet Steel," said Shiv.
"Any time, kid," said Mr. White.
"I've missed you too, and it's
good to get out together again."
Yeah, it really was, at that.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes will appear elsewhere.
fuzzyred. It also fills the "calf" square in my 7-1-22 card for the Body Parts Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with ng_moonmoth. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series."Because We Have a Song"
[Tuesday, September 20, 2016]
Shiv was just getting himself
together to face the day when
Boss White knocked on the door.
No, it was Mister White now,
he was real firm about that so
Shiv had to try and remember,
no matter how hard it was.
"Morning," Shiv said as he
pulled the door open wider.
"Good morning," said Mr. White.
"Come on down to the beach with me,
there's someone I want you to meet."
"Okay?" Shiv said, bemused. "Who?
Do I need to do anything special?"
Mr. White nodded. "Wear something
that you don't mind getting wet,
and bring your horn," he said.
"To the beach?" Shiv said.
There were places sand didn't
belong, and anywhere near
his saxophone was one.
"It'll be fine as long as you
don't drop it in the sand,
and besides, it's probably
scratchproof by now,"
said Mr. White. "You're
gonna want it with you."
Over the years, Shiv's power
had soaked into his sax, smoothing
the dings and scratches that it had
picked up before it reached him.
He hadn't made it Invulnerable
on purpose, but yeah, sand
probably couldn't scratch it now.
He still wasn't putting it down
on the damn beach, though.
"Okay, give me five minutes,"
Shiv said. "I need to change."
"I'll meet you out front,"
Mr. White said as he left.
Shiv hustled to change
clothes for the outing
and unknown activities.
Aida had sent him a stack
of cabana sets made with
some new gizmotronic fiber
recycled from plastic, but it
felt velvety like rayon and
dried almost instantly if wet.
Each set had board shorts
long enough to cover his knees,
a short-sleeved button-up shirt --
both with waterproof zip pockets --
and a matching bucket hat.
Shiv loved them all, and he
happily put on the blue paisley.
He slapped a Sunspot on his hand,
grabbed his sax, and headed out.
The lazy sprawl of Kurumba Village
on Vihamanaafushi Island was pretty
as they walked past various buildings.
The beach was pure white sugar sand,
made of worn-down coral, or so Aida
had told him at considerable length.
It sure looked beautiful, though.
"Out on the dock," Mr. White said,
leading the way across the beach.
"We'll make the hookup there."
"Your guy works on the water?"
Shiv said, looking out at the boats
sailing lazily past. Dhonis, he
recognized from the game.
Mr. White laughed. "Yeah,
I guess you could say that."
The wooden dock was
worn smooth by wind and
sand and sun, its boards
weathered to a silver-gray
barely darker than the beach.
"Morning, Steel," said Mr. White,
although there was nobody in sight.
Then the name sank in. "Oh hey,
Aida's whale friend!" Shiv exclaimed.
He looked out over the waves,
trying to spot the huge whale.
A soft sound made him look down.
There, just beyond the dock,
was a gray head as big as a car.
An eye the size of a baseball
looked up at him, blinking and
almost disappearing into the head
whenever a wave lapped over it.
"Holy shit," Shiv breathed.
Now that he was paying attention
in the right direction, Shiv could feel
the whale beneath him, the vast skeleton
and truly epic collection of body jewelry and
fucking hell was a that spear in his head?
Harpoon, a voice whispered. From
a battle long ago. Good morning,
white calf, it is good to meet you
in person. I have heard much
about you from our podmates.
Used to be, Shiv would've
worried over people telling
stories about him, but he knew
the Finns, and besides, the voice
carried a sense of affection.
It was like listening to the sea
inside a shell, only about
a zillion times bigger.
"Hi, Steel," said Shiv,
wriggling with excitement.
"It's good to meet you too.
Aida talks and talks about you."
She talks and talks about
everything within the ocean,
Steel sent with a rumbling laugh.
"Yeah, but she likes you and
Moderato more," said Shiv.
True, Steel sent. We are
podmates. It is strange
to swim with landers,
but we have learned
much from each other.
Everything Steel said
had a kind of undercurrent
to it, carrying along bits of
memory and old emotions
like sand or leaves swept
along with the water.
Even the sounds went
through everything, from
the boards of the dock to
Shiv's bones, a faint vibration
like a speaker set to ultra-bass.
Deep rolling groans and grunts
interspersed with sharp clicks
like a radio going on the fritz.
Steel sounded nothing like
the musical voices of humpbacks
from the New Age shit that Shiv
had heard Cas' mother put on.
This was like smoky jazz to
their church-organ choir song,
backed with Steel's feelings
like the wide water of the ocean.
It made Shiv want to rub himself
against it, like he sometimes did
with the big box speakers at home.
You wish to nuzzle? Steel sent,
pleased. That is good for podmates.
And then there was a whale in Shiv's head.
Steel fit as neatly and gracefully inside
as he did in the small harbor, floating
in place without disturbing a thing.
Shiv felt warm and safe and adored
in the embrace of that vast mind.
He purred, stropping himself
against it the way he did with
his moving-right-along hugs,
and was met with a sense
of startled familiarity.
Well yeah, whales didn't
have arms, so it stood
to reason that they would
have to do hugs differently.
If body-cuddling felt this good
to normal people, no wonder
they were so obsessed with it.
Shiv never had understood that,
but he sure got the idea now.
Presently it occurred to him
to wonder, "How's come you
like me? Most folks don't."
You remind me of someone,
Steel sent, but the undercurrent
of emotions shut off suddenly,
like someone closing a seagate.
Shiv recognized that from Boss White
keeping folks out of his past messes,
so he knew not to pry about it.
"You boys gonna gab all day,
or are we gonna start jammin'
some time?" said Mr. White.
"What kind of question is
that?" Shiv said, laughing.
"You think a whale is gonna
have an answer to that?"
Whales do not sing because
we have an answer, Steel sent.
We sing because we have a song.
And wasn't that why everyone sang,
or made music? Especially jazz.
That and the sense of Steel
having as fucked-up a past
as Shiv made him pause.
"You sure that's safe?"
Shiv said, looking around
at the beach full of people. "If
folks come to a jazz joint, they
know what they're getting into.
Out here, they're not expecting
music to rip their hearts out."
"I'll keep an eye on things, and
let you know if you're getting
too intense," said Mr. White.
"Works for me," Shiv said.
He really wanted to jam.
Mr. White had brought
his own saxophone, and
two saxes together made
a pretty good start whether
you wanted jazz or blues.
They had a lead horn and
a backup, but nothing for
chords or rhythm, so that
was all on Steel, whatever
he could come up with having
heard neither jazz nor blues.
The whale chuckled. I have,
actually, heard both. Heron
likes to share unusual music.
That ought to make this interesting.
Mr. White provided Steel with
a brief introduction to "jamming"
and how it worked, then began.
Shiv followed along easily,
because he was used
to following Mr. White.
Steel picked up a memory
of snare drums and was
quite good at mimicking that,
then drifted into experiments
inspired by guitar and piano.
Riffling through their memories,
Steel settled on something that --
amusingly -- sounded quite a lot
like steel-string guitar, which
pushed the music toward blues.
Steel's feelings welled up, as
deep and rich as the rest of him.
Shiv knew what that was like, too,
and he let the melancholy move
through him and spill out his horn.
Saxophones wailed around
each other, accented by
the sharp clicks and creaks
that Steel made underneath.
Shiv wasn't sure how much
of the whale's contribution
would carry far from the water,
and how much was only audible
because Shiv and Mr. White were
standing on a dock right over him.
Of course, the mental link helped
by letting them all share senses.
Bit weird, getting that spillover
of how a whale heard-saw-felt
the world underwater, but it
went great with the blues.
The music flowed up and
out like water from a fountain,
deep and achingly beautiful
at the root, sparkling in the sun.
By the time they finished, Shiv
was soaked in sweat and
practically gasping for breath.
He'd only had his horn
for a couple of years,
and he really wasn't
used to performing
like this with it yet.
Even so, jamming with
a sperm whale had been
an awesome experience.
Mr. White gave Shiv
a nod of approval.
When Shiv turned
around to put his horn
back in its case, though,
he saw a half-circle of
people gathered around.
Some of them looked like
they'd just been crying.
With the show over,
the crowd started
to scatter, so Shiv
just ignored them
as best he could.
"That was mighty fine,"
said Mr. White. "We
ought to do that again
some time, if you like."
"Yeah, I'm smooth with it,"
Shiv said, and below them,
Steel rumbled agreement.
Even on the dock, it was
hot and he'd worn himself out.
With a sigh, Shiv dangled
his feet over the edge of
the dock, but they did not
quite reach the surface
of the turquoise water.
Do you wish to come in?
Steel said. This place is
for ships, not swimmers,
but I can stay between
you and the boats.
Shiv was tempted,
but only about half.
He'd gone to a local pool
in Omaha, and he had even
gotten a few lessons in
how not to drown from
a swim teacher in training,
but he still wouldn't call
himself a good swimmer.
Besides, the ocean was
a zillion times bigger
than a swimming pool.
You cannot drown
when you are with me,
Steel assured him.
I will keep you safe.
Naturally Shiv recalled
how one of his foster sisters
had tried to drown him
during a beach trip.
Then something pushed
the memory down and
made it stay there, like
sitting on a suitcase until
it latched. Impressive.
"You're sure?" said Shiv.
"I mean, how can you
keep me from drowning?"
Move your feet lower and
you will see, Steel sent.
Curious, Shiv wiggled
forward until his butt was
just resting on the edge
of the dock and his feet --
-- touched what should
have been water but felt
like the waterbed he'd been
told not to jump on but did.
Hesitantly, Shiv pushed off
the dock and stood upon
the wobbly, rubbery surface.
"Forcefield?" he guessed.
Graham called it telekinesis,
said Steel. I am holding you up
so you don't sink into the water.
"Neat trick," Shiv said. "But
how'm I supposed to cool off?"
A moment later, he was sinking,
very slowly, into the lapping wavelets.
Then Shiv felt something else firm
and rubbery underneath his feet.
Looking down, he realized
that Steel had extended
a big flipper under him.
Shiv scooched down so
he could get the rest of
him properly wet, sitting
on Steel's flipper like it
was a usual thing to do.
Once he was wet, Steel
rolled under him, gently
scooping Shiv up to where
he could sit on the whale.
Watch out for barnacles,
Steel warned. They are sharp.
"I like sharp things," Shiv said,
though the combination of that
and salt water might not be great.
I know, said Steel. Please do not
get blood in the water. It excites
the sharks, and I am not supposed
to ram them in protected areas.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll be careful,"
Shiv said. He could see
a few patches growing on
Steel's skin, like white rocks
against the smooth gray skin.
Come to that, Steel was
all over scars, crossing
and recrossing each other.
Like you, I am better now
that I have different people
in my life, Steel sent.
Shiv got the sense that
Steel understood him
better than anyone else
except maybe Mr. White.
Smiling, Shiv stretched out
and enjoyed the cooling effect
of water on his quick-drying clothes.
Lounging on Steel's broad back
felt surprisingly comfortable,
and the sun made him drowsy.
A spout of water and whale snot
woke him from his half-doze.
Do not fall asleep in the sun,
white calf. That I cannot
protect you from, Steel sent.
Shiv looked at his Sunspot,
now orange heading for red,
and groaned. "Yeah, I shoulda
gone in a good ten minutes ago."
A swift swoop and drop deposited
him delicately back on the dock.
Now you are out, Steel sent.
Come again when your skin
is rested. I will show you more.
"I look forward to that," Shiv said.
"Thanks for the jam and the swim."
"Well I'll be stuffed," Mr. White said
as they walked back up the dock.
"That damn whale actually likes
you. I wouldn't have believed it
if I hadn't just felt it for myself."
"You don't have to rub it in,"
Shiv grouched. "I know
I'm nobody's idea of fun."
"Naw, that's not what I meant,"
said Mr. White. "Steel don't
like nobody with legs, and
he ain't quiet about that.
He's got his reasons, too."
Shiv had heard about that
from the Finns, but ... but.
"He didn't feel like that
to me," Shiv said. "At all.
I mean, yeah, Steel isn't
the kind to hide his feelings,
but they were real clear.
He likes me just fine."
"And ain't that a mystery,
but I am glad he's found
someone he likes other than
Moderato," said Mr. White.
"Then why'd you introduce
us if you didn't think that
he'd like me?" Shiv huffed.
"Because you're family and
you oughta know each other,"
said Mr. White. "Besides, I didn't
think Steel would dislike you. He's
just not the affectionate type. I
figured you'd get on all right,
and there's the music too."
Had they even met
the same guy?
Steel was cozier
than anyone else
Shiv had ever met,
except for the Finns,
who were exceptions
to just about everything.
Shiv put it all aside
to puzzle over later.
Right now, his belly
was growling for lunch,
and he had a tropical island
full of seafood to explore.
"Thanks for bringing me
to meet Steel," said Shiv.
"Any time, kid," said Mr. White.
"I've missed you too, and it's
good to get out together again."
Yeah, it really was, at that.
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so its notes will appear elsewhere.
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2022-09-30 06:10 am (UTC)Yay!
>>I'm enough of a telepath that I could do that if I met Shiv.<<
That would be cool.
>> (I've been damaged a few times myself)
:/
Re: Thank you!
Date: 2022-10-01 01:29 am (UTC)Re: Thank you!
Date: 2022-10-01 01:45 am (UTC)