A Spaceman

Chapter 17--You do (yes we're still on this)

Tess has late classes. Major Tom isn't talking to me more than necessary which isn't very much at all. And the cadets are tired because I flew them too much the little redhead Starr is odyled with looked dizzy. And Starr needless to say would rather be with him canoodling and pretending to study. 

Bored bored bored.

 Ziggy isn't speaking to me either since this morning I scared him, and Ziegfeld I don't want to talk to either because she was too hard on me at lunch and what annoys me is she was right. She is right. But so am I, and she saw it. and I didn't think people could still get me that upset but she can she still saw how weak I am how vulnerable. And I hate that.

Bored bored bored. 

Nobody to entertain me. I can't even fuck with Thorn, my insidious capes will only serve to irritate Tom more and I want her to love me and want to have sex with me which she does not want to do right now.

I'm bored. I'm lonely I want to do something but everyone is busy. I would be happy to go home and play games with Tess till bed. and I'm grounded and I won't fly for ages and I'm bored. And I've got ALL evening, Tess isn't out of class till nine thirty that is three hours from now. I want to-

I really want to kill somebody.

That would be excellent. A nice little murder. A body to hide. Lots of blood. and then I disappear. Tuck Tess in bed. we read from one of her favorite books then she goes to sleep and I can stand there looking out the window thinking about it.

That would do me so much good who've I wanted to kill lately----Ziegfeld's boy---NO_--NO---NO, anyone else, except Tom and Tess---anyone else not him. she taught you to fly there is some grace---if there is some grace in this world there is for that, there is for that there must be---no not him. anybody else just pick anybody else.

Okay fine. But I really want to kill him he is SUCH a waste of oxygen—no, no no, not him pick somebody else---okay, picking, picking.

Thorn? No I've got such a nice decapitation planned for him later and I don't want to spoil it. After all I've been waiting for a while, and I do want to do it but not just yet he's so much fun to mess with on a regular basis.

No, not him I don't feel like it yet---Kip? He feeds me no---Jordan? No Starr would be distracted for weeks. Who else who else---Ziggy---no damn it. We already said no to that one. No no no. Leavitt? Hunt him down and kill him AFTER chopping his legs off? I could but that might take a while and I want the murder to last a good long while and not spend time going back and forth.

I don't know I can't think of anyone this isn't any fun---oh I could do something new. Up till now everyone I've murdered has been somebody I know. I could kill somebody I don't know. a total stranger. That would be fun. Somebody I've never met before. Or better yet---a kid. I've never killed a child. I'll do that, go off base or stay on? Oh what the hell, stay on and give Thorne a coronary.

**

It's getting late and I'm bored. Bridget is doing her homework and I'm sitting sipping a glass of wine here to help her if she needs it. She needs it less and less these days. We had a nice dinner, the roast egg plant, but as she said, it was lacking a certain---protein. It is time I visited the butcher. Ha. Became the butcher. But when? I'm hoping for the date with the lovely Dr. Lutz. But she's brushed me off. Not necessarily completely but she's certainly not coming around anytime soon. And I need entertainment. I'm hungry. I miss the flesh. The cool, slick way the meat feels in my hands as I season it, pat, rub, caress before the final searing. The last death of the flesh.

"What do you think of ribs tomorrow night?" I ask. I'm leafing through my recipe book, sipping a good Chardonnay.

"Fine, I thought you hadn't had time to go to the butcher?" Bridget says, not really glancing up from her work.

"I haven't but I'm off early tomorrow, I could go, if you felt like it as well," I say.

"Yeah, all right, you know I like anything you cook," she says.

"All right then," I say. I'll have to do the murder tonight. that would be fun. I was planning on staying in but that would be a real pick me up. And my blood is up with the almost-date. I 'd rather enjoy that.

Who, though? The lovely Dr. Lutz was already stalking our friend the oily Dr. Steele, and he was my next target. Hmm, who to murder who to murder? I don't know, nobody at the hospital has been particularly consumption worthy lately. I don't like choosing people at random that's rather coarse, lacks all feeling, no method to that and absolutely no justification. And more than that, no knowledge of the quality of the meat.

Bridget will be in bed soon then I'll go. Or I'll do it tomorrow morning. But I do prefer to do it at night, it's much better to move in the dark. But I do hate to leave Bridget alone here. I am not the only monster of the night.

**

"Who would I be in a party?"

"What are you talking about?" Terrance asks. He's studying. I don't have to study so I'm not. I'm tired. My eyes are burning, and I'm trying to get the memories of flying out of my head. I don't like feeling that way. I don't like feeling that real. I want to disappear.

"What Major Tom was telling us, about how the officers, on a Suicide Squad, always form a party. Who do you think I'd be?" I ask, snipping a thread on his SBUs, as I lay next to him on the bed. he's studying on his tablet.

"The Scholar," he says, "You're always the one who knows everything."

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah, why?" he asks.

"I don't want to be the Savior," I say, "I don't want to be the last person standing. The last one without you. the one who cleans up the mess. I don't want to be him."

"You won't be," he says, rubbing my hair, "I'll be with you, I promise. We'll get assigned to fly together, it'll be easy, do our rotation them move to different jobs, planetside or off the Ulysses."

"Yeah," I say, laying my head down.

"What? You don't believe it?" he asks.

"No, for some reason, when I look out at the stars, its like I'll get lost out there in them, no amount of science or talk of the maps and logic and the teams and the methods, nothing allays the fear, that I'll never come home," I say.

"Hey, you want to come home to me, don't you?" he asks.

"Always," I say. and I mean it.

"Then come home," he says.

"You make everything sound so simple."

"It can be simple," he says, rubbing my neck, "Just let it be simple. Just you, and me."

"Okay," I say, but I don't believe it. I don't want to fly. I don't want to do anything, but lie here, next to him, warm and safe, no war no aliens no sailing through the stars.

**

"I'm going to go out, for a bit," I say, rinsing my wine glass in the sink. "I feel like a walk."

"Do you want company?" Bridget asks, she is just packing up her books, going to take a bath before bed. she typically does, plays music in there, then plays music in her room or watches videos. Such is the secret life of the teenage homo sapiens.

"No, I'm fine, thanks though. I shan't be long," I say, kissing her on the cheek, "Get cleaned up, ready for bed. I'll let you know when I get back."

"Okay," she says, giving me a quick hug, "Be careful."

"Oh, I always am," I say.