Twenty five years is, for us regular mortals, a very long time. It may feel like it passes in the blink of an eye in retrospect, but it can feel like a genuine eternity when you’re actually experiencing it. So to say it felt surreal to be guiding the limp, dying husk of his car up a driveway Conway had not seen in over a quarter of a decade would be a slight understatement.
Ken was the type of man who could disappear from your life for years upon years, but would still greet you with a casually ocker ‘G’day’ and a lanky hug – which was fortunate for Conway, as the rough and tumble mechanic was exactly the sort of mechanical wizard he needed to help mend his wheels.
If you’ve ever seen a reunion between sincerely old friends, then you know what it was like for Conway and Ken to look each-other in the eye that afternoon. A rush of recognition, emphatic greetings, off-handed comments about Ken’s latest pair of grease-stained jeans, and Conway’s smartly tailored business suit, which eventually transitioned into the meat of the matter as Ken cracked open the bonnet of his old friend’s car to look dubiously at its mangled innards.
“Mate… this’ll take a while I reckon. Might as well pop inside and have yourself a cuppa.”
“Cheers mate.” Conway said, giving Ken a slap on the shoulders – and wiping the sooty black stain off on his handkerchief as he made his way indoors.
It was a rush of off-kilter nostalgia as Conway looked about the old, stubby hallway. It was the same old mess as ever before, the same stacks of assorted garbage strewn about the floors and stacked atop the shelves; all that had really changed was the placement, as well as the particular garbage on display. He shuffled around a stack of old biker magazines and a well-worn helmet, brushing by an artistic display of empty shotgun casings before emerging into the kitchen.
By some divine miracle, of all the things Ken had presumably replaced over the years, he had the same bloody kettle sitting atop the stove. Conway chuckled in remembrance as his fingers curled around its handle, filling it at the tap before setting it to boil.
“Conway?” A woman’s voice spoke behind him, sending a pulse down the man’s spine. He turned reflexively, his gaze landing on a rather petite woman clad in a faded, powder-blue bathrobe and bubble-gum-pink rabbit slippers. She had her brother’s slender frame, though she lacked his absurd height, standing a foot and a half shy of Ken. Conway was taller still though, and quite glad they were separated by the length of the room so he didn’t have to crane his neck down to see her properly.
“Gina?” Conway replied, his tone one of disbelief as his heart kicked up a notch. He took in all the changes; the laugh lines along the corners of her eyes, the numerous piercings adoring her nose, lip and ears, and the mop of dreadlocks that hung down almost to her hips. Her eyes hadn’t changed though; if her bath-gown was the soft, faded blue of a photo-album, then her eyes were the glittering hue of the ocean at rest.
She smiled, her teeth flashing joyfully as Conway felt his hand clutch at the kitchen counter behind him for balance.
“Actually, it’s Sky now.” A familiar laugh escaped her throat as she stepped forward, throwing up her arms and wrapping them around Conway, embracing him in a cuddle of abiding fondness. “But otherwise, yes.”
Conway held her back, not bothering to check the state of her clothes as he hoisted her into the air, shaking her back and forth like a ragdoll as his own rumbling laughter mingled with hers.
“Dude, you’re rocking the silver fox look now; it suits you.” She said, staring shamelessly at the streaks of grey that peppered Conway’s formerly black mane.
“Not quite old enough to be a silver fox, but give it time.” He grinned, setting Sky down on the floor after a few moments. “The dreads look fantastic too; must have taken you a long time to get that lot together. Looks like you’ve managed to stick to your guns all this time.” Sky nodded modestly, her head lilting to one side as she gave Conway a calculating once over.
“Look at you Mr. Business; been a long time since the Bohemian circus huh?”
Conway shrugged, his smile hardening slightly.
“We do what we have to do; I still dream of the wild days by the bonfires, but they don’t pay the rent or keep food on my table.”
“Well come on then, grab that tea and come tell me all about it… It’s been a while.”
Conway may have rushed the preparation a little in his effort to get done as soon as possible; not that there was any tremendous pressure. Ken would be working for hours on the car, and if there was one thing that Sky was not, it was ‘impatient’. And when Conway found himself sinking into the stack of bean-bag chairs strewn about on the floor of the guest bedroom, it felt as though he were falling back into a younger version of himself. Memories flooded him as he looked about, though his gaze returned always to Sky herself.
If you’ve ever seen a reunion between sincerely old friends, then you know what it was like for Conway and Sky to catch each-other up that afternoon. Tales of artistry and multiple side-jobs from Sky, the slow string of sacrifices in the name of the almighty dollar from Conway, and the tales of dreams won and lost along the way.
Mid-way through the conversation, Sky rolled herself a particular set of herbs wrapped in paper, and within minutes the entire room was awash with the aroma. Conway felt his cheeks go faintly pink, and all at once an old, lingering memory in the back of his head came bubbling to the surface.
“It’s funny, sitting here and remembering the old things we used to do when we were young.”
“Yeah man…” Sky replied, her lazy smile warm like the afternoon sun as it streamed through the windows.
“Do you remember that… that thing we used to do, while everyone else was outside cooking and playing with dirt-bikes?”
“Heh, yeah… Shit, I haven’t done that in years…” Sky mused, making a sound like a reverse slide-whistle. “I did some weird stuff with my gifts in my early years.”
“Oh? You don’t do it anymore?” Conway asked, trying to keep his tone under control as he probed with all the grace and subtlety of an alcoholic bear.
“Nah, I mean, I didn’t really ask permission back then; which is kind of a no-no. I uh… kind of regret doing it to you actually.” She admitted, her lips pursed. “I just thought it was funny and harmless, but… people generally don’t like to have that sort of thing forced on them. And it was only after years of maturity and growth that I realized that… maybe I’d damaged our friendship by putting you through that without checking in first.”
“I mean, that’s true,” Conway replied carefully, “you definitely should ask people first; that’s just common decency these days. I can’t speak for anyone else, but… You don’t have to feel bad about doing it to me. I didn’t mind at all.” His hands trembled a little, setting aside the rattling tea-cup as he averted his gaze from her. His lips parted as he tried to summon words, though it took him several seconds to gather the will to continue.
“Truth be told,” he spoke, “I was wondering if perhaps you could do it again.”
Sky’s eyebrows drifted lazily upward, her expression pleasantly surprised.
“Really? Why?”
“I’m not really sure,” Conway readjusted his posture a little, his body crawling with conflicting sensations as he fought between dignity and desire, “I guess, the touch of your gift was something that really shaped my early life; it makes me think about the old days, about how things used to be.”
The crinkles at the edge of Sky’s eyes deepened as a fresh puff of smoke emerged from her mouth. She sat forward on her bed, slippers folded beneath her as she looked over at Conway.
“You’re not telling me everything, Mr. Conway.” She poked the name playfully as she beamed at him in gentle accusation. “What else is there?”
Conway’s blush deepened as he felt his heart pounding against his rib cage.
“I…” He started, his voice a little breathless, “I have… missed our conversations, and your company. I confess that… of all the friends I missed from those days, you were at the very top of that pile.” He looked over at Sky, meeting her gaze and spoke with the tone of a bursting dam.
“I enjoyed being touched by that gift, because seeing you in that light, from that perspective, was like nothing else in the world. You have a smile unmatched in all the world, and I have seen much of it on my trips. There is a warmth and a vibrancy to you and your very soul that I have felt distinctly lacking in my world. Even if I do not see you again after today for many years more, even if it is decades before I return to this part of the country, I would hold the memory as dear as any other if I could share one of those moments with you again. Among all my friends, you are singularly unique, Sky; I hold you in quite literally enormous regard.”
Though her shift in expression was almost imperceptible, Conway could see the subtle glow his words had instilled, the blush creeping up in response to the flattery as her smile settled into sincere affection.
“You always were a wordy man when you were nervous.” Sky teased gently, slipping one of her feet out of its fuzzy sheathe and plopping it over to rest it on her friend’s knee. “Guess some things stay the same after all.”
The man laughed, decades of stress, sorrow and responsibility melting away from his features; beneath the worry lines on his brow and the silver lines of his hair, Sky caught a glimpse of that same young man who had once believed in fairies and the beauty of his dreams. Something stirred in her chest, but she pushed it down.
“You may well mean every word you say, Mr. Conway,” she depths of her eyes started slowly to spiral about counter-clockwise, lights like the twinkling of stars bursting to life within, “but no matter how old and clever you get, you still can’t seem to grasp the skill of just… saying what you mean. You always need to dress it up and make it some big, dramatic exclamation.”
As she said the word ‘big’, the world around Conway started to shift, to stretch out slowly. His heart hammered at the achingly familiar sensation he had so yearned for all this time. His hand came to rest on Sky’s foot even as he shrunk on his bean-bag chair, smaller, and smaller with each passing second.
“You don’t want to be ‘touched by my gift’ just because you appreciate our friendship; I already knew that part.” She winked, the seemingly inextinguishable flame of her youth still burning bright beneath her aging features.
“You just want what you’ve always wanted. You want to be free. Free of responsibility, free of consequence, free of needing to be constantly worrying about shit. Being small is fucking relaxing.”
Sky shuffled onto the floor as she reached down with her free hand, gently scooping Conway into her palm with absolute care. His face was bright red, yet there was barely repressed relief in his expression.
“We’ve got a few hours to kill, so just… be free for a while, with me. Like old times.”
“Old times…”