RxN: Content

RxN: Content

Title: Content
Author: Talitha Koum/BlueEyedPerceiver
Characters: Riku Kastov and Nevaeh Alexander © Kelley Fesmire

Riku hoisted a bag of trash over his shoulder. Puréed leftovers pooled at the backs of his knees like a diaper heavy with pee. Riku grimaced at the simile. Feces and pork smelled similar. Too similar. Unfortunate for Riku, the simile was set in stone. He made the mistake of sketching an illustration on the whiteboard of his mind with a permanent marker rather than dry-erase.

“This smells like--“

“Mr. Kastov!” Nevaeh squirted water at his face. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“How do you know I wasn’t going to say diapers?”

“Depends.” Nevaeh wrinkled her nose. “You know? Depends? Like--“

Riku walked outside, leaving Nevaeh to explain the wit of her joke to the dishes. He opened the back door to Vinney’s with his foot, dislodging rakes and spades from the lattice bolted to the wall. Riku was agitated. He was agitated he was agitated. Nevaeh boiled his blood in five words or less. Five, harmless words. She had a talent.

Riku marched, the clip-clap of his shoes in tune with the song of the cicadas. It was humid beyond all reason. Riku’s hair lay plastered to his forehead, sodden with sweat. The stains on his chest and underarms bled together. Hellish temperatures instigated his temper.

The patio was long and tall, flanked by cardboard boxes and coolers and four-step stairs. A dumpster waited for him at its end--near enough to where Riku could pitch whatever refuse was in need of his disposal and far enough to where the sanitation workers could take care of business.

The dumpster’s lid was open, hungry for putrescence.

Riku lugged the trash more brusquely than was necessary. He laced his fingers behind his neck, stretched his arms over the top of his head, and breathed deep. Neaveh’s absence was therapeutic. He felt more relaxed suffering the stench of trash and the heat of the sun than suffering the sound of Nevaeh’s voice; air conditioning included.

Nimble fingers tickled Riku’s ear.

He glanced over his shoulder.

If looks could kill.

Riku was struck with the feeling Nevaeh had every intention of pushing him to dumpster dive. (He trusted his gut with his life.) Riku spun on his heel, grabbed the collar of Nevaeh’s shirt, and said, “If I go, you’re coming with me.”

Nevaeh smirked.

Riku held her gaze. And held it. Stupidly, he held it. Like a man who held a skillet fresh from the stove, trying to prove an arbitrary point. Riku wasn’t certain how long he stared determinedly, inhaling and exhaling between his teeth. The sun scorched the back of his neck.

Still, Nevaeh refused to waver under his glare.

Riku’s grip tightened. “I dare you.”

Nevaeh touched his chest.

Riku’s heart skipped a beat.

“Why did the chicken cross the road, Mr. Kastov?”

Riku was flummoxed. The same amount of assuredness with which he trusted his gut, he disbelieved his ears. “What?”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Riku didn’t know what to say other than, “To get to the other side?”

“Blasted. You’ve heard that one.” Nevaeh pursed her lips and tried again, “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

Riku was hesitant to guess, “To get to the other side?”

“No. She crossed the road so she could tell Mr. Rooster a joke.”

Riku couldn’t help but wonder if he was trapped in an alternate universe. Nevaeh? Jokes? Honestly? It was weird. Not just weird-weird. Sinister-weird. As did anything that involved Nevaeh directly or indirectly, nothing good would come of her intentions. “Why?”

“So she could see him smile.”

“You want me to smile?”

“Yes.”

Riku cracked a gin.

“No. A real smile. You look like your upper lip’s defecated beneath your nose.”

Riku thought, I do smell pork. He said, “I’m not a smiley person.”

“Which is why I want to make you smile.”

“For no other reason than to give yourself the satisfaction of knowing you can?”

“Exactly.”

Riku frowned. “You’re such a hypocrite.” He dithered toward the meat cooler. His blood was beyond boiling. It was molten, lava hot. He was desperate for a reprieve.

“Hypocrite?” Nevaeh’s voice was taut with fury.

Riku opened the door. Ice-cold air doused his skin with goosebumps.

“I’m trying to do you a favor, Mr. Kastov. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

“Your motive for helping me is?”

“No reason.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Nevaeh sighed through her nose, exasperated. “Are you happy?”

“I’m content.”

Nevaeh seethed. “My God!”

“What?”

“I work myself to death trying to make you happy and all you have to say is I’m content? Dog gonnit, Riku! People like me!” Except you! was implied. Nevaeh stomped inside Vinney’s. The lattice fell from the wall in her wake.

CLANG!

It dawned on Riku like a tidal wave of realization. Nevaeh was upset because he was the only person in Greenfield who wasn’t her biggest fan. “You don’t understand,” Riku chuckled, standing alone in the cold. “Content’s...good for me.”