Bags not... Rick!

The sun hasn’t shown up for days, but at least it’s not raining. And every day, Rick hates their hiding-place more. At least they have coffee and real tea now, and Mike goes to the town every day to pick up the newspaper. He has miraculously managed to stay speckles, while everybody else is covered in dirt up to their ears. But what’s the point in going to a laundrette when you have to sit there naked while the washing is taking place?



Mike is sitting on a rock and drinking coffee, clean as a button, while Rick’s buttons have actually started to rust. He hates Mike a little more than ever.



Nobody really has the energy to fight any more.



“Tea, anyone?” asks Neil, and even his patient, gentle voice is annoying. How can he NOT be on edge and close to killing someone?



“No, Neil, we don’t want your tea”, snaps Rick. “In fact, we’d appreciate it if you left us alone!”



Neil scowls. “There’s no need to be like that.”



“There’s no need for your bloody tea!” shouts Vyvyan.



“Guys! Guys!” Mike’s voice interrupts them. “Look at that!”



They all gather around Mike’s back and look at the newspaper. Front page.



“Bank robbery case solved”, reads Rick. “After a bank robbery in London on July 14th… bla… when arrested several days later, the man admitted attacking the bank, but denied having anything to do with the unknown young men armed with water pistols, who ran away before the police arrived… man was found guilty on all charges, but the money was not found. It is thought that he hid it… declared the case closed for the time being.” The words are starting to wobble before his eyes. It’s too early to lose his cool now, but the blood is rushing to his head by the second.



“Hey, that police guy is saying we were bloody amateurs!” complains Neil.



“They’re not searching for us any more”, mumbles Rick. “The pigs don’t care about us!”



“I mean, come on, for the first time we did a pretty decent job, there’s no use saying that it was a stupid joke by some… what did they write? … silly youths!”



“Neil? Shut up. This is really important.” Mike gets up. “Guys, we’re officially out of trouble.”



“Wheeeeh.” Rick exhales. “So we are, are we? Innocent and clean as snow?”



“What? We hid in this wood for nothing?” asks Vyvyan.



“We have one problem, though”, ponders Mike. “We can’t spend the money right now. We have to give it away bit by bit, otherwise people will ask where we got it from.”



“So, no buying a great big house with a fountain in the front garden?” inquires Rick carefully.



“Of course not, Rick, you bloody idiot! Everybody knows that only a capitalist pooh-head wants a house like that”, replies Vyvyan. “Especially since you told us over and over and over again every time you saw one on the telly.”



“Are you mocking me?” Rick pushes his face into Vyvyan’s. “You just watch out, my fine feller…”



He should have been warned when Vyvyan pulled his head, back, he really should. But as it is, he’s too mad to notice, and Vyvyan’s forehead hits him on the nose and leaves a temporary, star-shaped imprint.



“Oh no, guys, don’t start fighting now!” moans Neil. “Everything is fine and great, and you have to spoil it!”



“But then where are we going to live?” muses Mike.



“Well, what about Rick’s house?” asks Neil.



“Yeah, what about my house, pray? That house I didn’t know I had?”



“Your parents’ house.”



Rick looks at Neil, Neil looks at Mike, Mike looks at Vyvyan and Vyvyan looks at Rick.



“Uhm… that’s a very good idea, actually”, says Mike. “It was there all along, wasn’t it? Why did we spend that night on the street, in the first place?”



“Who says I let you live in there? It’s my house, go get your own!” Slowly it starts to dawn on Rick that he doesn’t need to share.



“Oh yes, it’s our house, mate”, says Neil firmly, and gets up to stare right into Rick’s face. “That is, unless you want us to tell on you.”



“What? Well, I could tell on you too! How’s that, hippie?”



“Rick, we’re all in the same boat here”, states Mike. “Although it would be wiser to take the train than a boat, and I mean a quick one. Now all we need is a train station.”







It is six hours, one eventful train ride (including several broken windows and several fainting elderly ladies), one boring visit to an administrator later.



Funny to walk into this house now. It’s looking pretty empty right now, silent and cold, with the smaller household objects mostly taken away by other relatives.



This is home, but it will never be what it was before. Nobody is waiting for Rick here. It’s his turn to take over now. If it only wasn’t so silent…



“Yeah, it looks alright”, says Neil.



“Rick, are you going to stand in the doorway until you grow roots on your feet?” Vyvyan pushes past him. “Yeah, it’s alright, I suppose. We have to take all these ugly flower pictures down, but the couch looks comfy enough!”



“Is that real crockery?” Neil asks admiringly after opening one of the kitchen cupboards. “Real pots and plates and a real teapot?”



“Yes, Neil, my parents were incredibly good at cooking with actual pots”, snaps Rick.



“No more cooking with empty soup cans, wow!”



From upstairs, Vyvyan’s delighted voice calls down. “Hey, look at that teddy bear, it’s got a shirt on with “Give Mr Snuggles a kiss” on it!”



“Get out of my room!!”



Mike’s voice comes from somewhere else. “Wow, this room’s got a big bed! I’ll need that one!”



Meanwhile, Rick has chased Vyvyan out of his old bedroom.



“I didn’t want to sleep in a room with rocket wallpapers, you know, I was just having a look, Jesus Christ!” shouts Vyvyan from the vestibule.



Neil seems to be so happy about having a kitchen again that he hasn’t even bothered with a room. It seems like he wants to sleep under the kitchen table.



Rick suddenly feels incredibly tired. The mental and physical strain from the last weeks comes crashing down on him, and he rolls up on his bed and falls asleep beside the old teddy.







When he wakes up, he realizes that he has caused smudges on the pillow. And his mouth tastes like… well, no living thing should smell or taste like that. He needs a shower. Or better, a bath.



He slowly makes his way to the bathroom. The house is suspiciously quiet.



“Hey, can’t you knock, you pervert?!” Vyvyan is in the bathtub, covered in foam, with a pink shower cap on his head, and a brush in his hand, and looking very indignant.



“This is my bathroom, Vyvyan!” Rick sneers. “And don’t worry, I will take any measure I can so I don’t see your privates. Not that it’s necessary, because you selfish bastard just probably just used up all the bath foam in the house anyway. But now I have to brush my teeth, so stay where you are.”



“Get out, this is private!”



Rick smiles lightly and goes to the sink to grab his toothbrush. Vyvyan threatens him with death, but stays put in the bathtub. Then he finally becomes silent and stretches his limbs out of the tub.



Rick sees it in the mirror. He turns around and says: “Aah you wea’ing youah oots?”



“What?” Vyvyan says hatefully.



Rick takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. “Are you wearing your boots in my bathtub?!”



“Yeah.”



“You take them off at once, young man!!”



“I’ve worn them for 10 days out there now. So I thought, I had better bathe my feet before I take them off. Otherwise, the smell might get someone killed… damn, that would have been interesting.” Vyvyan stretches out one leg and pulls off the shoe; then the other. The wet black boots are carelessly thrown to the floor, and Vyvyan wiggles his toes before lowering them under the waterline again. This pushes up the other half of his body, of course.



Rick is not looking at his nipples. No, he’s definitely not looking. He’s just looking at how the skin is pink under the nipples (where it was touched by water) and dirty over them.



“You’ve got a tidemark on your chest. God, you’re disgusting. Now hurry up, I want to take a bath too!”



Vyvyan inhales very deeply, snaps his mouth shut and slowly sinks down into the foamy depths. His knees come up on the other side. Then he slowly resurfaces, hair hanging down the back of his head. The shower cap is floating somewhere on the water. Vyvyan is looking a lot more pink than before.



“Just admit it”, he says. “You really like guys, don’t you. Peace and man-love, haha. All you want is to see my noodle.”



“God, Vyvyan!” Rick hits himself in the forehead and turns to leave. When he’s by the door, Vyvyan calls him back.



“Rick, wait!”



“Yes, what now?” Rick has no patience left. He stands with the door handle in one hand.



“Come back”, says Vyv in a soft voice (well, as soft as it gets). “And close the door. Plll- ease.” (It’s not his favourite word.)



“Yes, what?” Rick is trying to find something to do with his hands.



“So, uhm… what’s this like for you?”



It’s one of these moments when Vyv’s face is nearly relaxed. Like when he’s very, very excited about a new toy he’s building for himself. He’s interested. Truly interested. His eyes look very blue, the way they’re fixed on Rick now.



The truth is, Rick feels awful. He’s hurting, he’s missing his parents who were annoying but were somewhat… you know, around. He still hasn’t quite understood that they’re dead now. He hopes it won’t get through to him at all. And his old home is currently being ripped apart and perverted by his lunatic friends who moved in with him. His old emotional ties are being undone. He has no more home to go to. The only home he’s going to get is this one, and he’s going to have to make it into “home” all by himself. He feels like a very, very young bird that has fallen out of its nest.



“I’m fine”, he snaps, and doesn’t mind if Vyvyan knows he’s not fine at all.



“Uhm, yeah. Uhm…” Vyvyan starts scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t remember much from when I was young, about my mum, I mean, but… yeah, I remember how she used to bathe me. She held me by my ears and pulled me through the water, ‘cause the water was really hot and she didn’t want to burn her fingers… or how she’d make me drink hot wine so I’d stop screaming and sleep. Or when she gave me the screwdriver and told me to play with the light socket.” He grins. “Nice memories, even though she’s an old bitch.”



“I’m moved. How interesting.” Rick bites down on his lip.



“Yeah. Anyway. I just wanna say thank you for the poem.”



“What? I don’t think you get the point. It’s a poem about you being an arsehole.”



“Yeah, but… nobody has ever written a poem about me before.” Vyvyan cocks his head and rubs some foam out of his ear. “It’s… the most bloody beautiful thing I ever heard.”



Rick’s hurt insides are starting to glow just a bit. “I’m rather proud of it, I don’t mind telling you.”



“Can I get it written down?”



“Signed with an autograph.”



“Yeah. I just want to read it over again, later.”



Rick puts his toothbrush back and turns to go, finally. If he stays any longer, he’s probably going to blush with excitement.



“Err… come over here?” Vyv, immobilized by modesty, waves Rick over to the bathtub.



“Yeah, what?”



“Closer. Even closer. Yeah, this close.” Suddenly, Vyv grabs the front of Rick’s shirt, pulls him up against his face and smashes their faces together. Oh no, not that nose ring again. Rick struggles against the kiss.



“Mmmbh!”



“Hah.” Vyvyan lets go of him, and continues under his breath: “You know, I really really do fancy you.”



Rick wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. He wants to spit fire, smash Vyvyan’s face in, drown the bastard in his own dirty bathwater. But the only thing that comes out of his mouth is an indignant huff.



And the worst thing is the way Vyvyan is leering at his crotch now. Subtlety is not Vyvyan’s approach to the whole mating business anyway, but the looks he’s giving Rick should be burning holes into his slacks.



“And don’t you dare stare at my bottom when I walk out!” Rick shouts with the last bit of self-control he has.



Vyvyan grins and cocks his head, knowing that there’s nothing Rick can do about it.



Oh, now Rick is angry. He jumps at Vyv, grabs his jaw in both hands, and shoves his tongue down Vyv’s throat.



See what it’s like? You don’t like that, do you?



Vyv, when he is finally freed from the tongue, shakes his head. “Uh. Oh. I didn’t know you… oh.”



Rick wants to smite Vyvyan with the most destroying, earth-shattering, silencing insult ever said in the history of mankind, but what comes out of his mouth is: “Next time we do it, you spread!”



Vyvyan, still bedazzled from Rick’s throat-breaking kiss, croaks: “Fair enough. When’s that going to be?”



Rick’s mouth has gone dry. “I don’t know, I mean… when I had a bath.” Just to keep his poise, he adds: “Now hurry up.”







TuBerCulosis.