Out Of This World

“Ben where were you?” she fussed, pulling me into her room and quietly closing the door, “He’s gonna be here any minute!”

I opened my mouth to counter with a sarcastic remark but my response was cut short by her lips pressing tightly onto mine. I followed her mouth with my lips as it closed so that it was only open ever so slightly; she was always strict when it came to how much tongue was involved, and it never failed to amuse me. I began to snigger against her kiss and she whacked me in the stomach. I gasped, winded slightly and my lunch shifted in protest. Knowing this, Kim kept her mouth securely over mine, preventing me from taking in anymore air. I frowned- she could be so cruel sometimes. I thought about provoking her more so that I ended up puking in her mouth -accidently on purpose- but decided that it was too mean and the consequences could result in my penis being small enough to use as an ear plug. I disgusted myself for even considering it.

There was a knock at the door and Kim wrenched away from me. Whiping her mouth with her sleeve, she grabbed my hand and placed it, palm up against her forehead.

“How does that feel?” she asked hurriedly.

“Oily.” I cringed. She hit me again. “Sorry, sorry, you feel fine. Normal.” I grinned. Her bedroom door opened and in walked Hayden. Good old Hayden. He stopped and stared at the both of us. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kim’s expression flicker from guilt to concern to relief before composing itself and turning around. I could see her smile even though she wasn’t even facing me. Hayden smiled back and Kim ran up to him, threw her hands around his neck and pecked him on the lips. I might as well have been furniture.

“Hey Kim, are you feeling alright?” Hayden asked, his brow creasing with the weight of a worried frown.

“Yeah I’m fine. I had a bit of a head ache this morning and Ben was just checking my temperature.” She smiled, “But I feel fine now. I’m fine.”

Too many fine’s Kimmy dear…he’s getting sus…ha, and jealous.

Hayden cocked a brow but didn’t press any further. Looking up and giving me a vague greeting, he took Kim’s hand and began leading her out of the room. Kim turned halfway through the door and gave me a small wave and a quick smile.
Her thoughts told me to get out of her room, followed by some threats involving my balls, the flea that occupied the space my brain left when it allegedly fell out my ass, and Isabelle’s reaction to the repositioning of my lips over my anus.

Without hesitation I ambled out of Kim’s room and back to my own house where I decided to give Isabelle a call. I was strongly against wasted oppertunities, if you catch my drift. Isabelle told me she already agreed to spending the day banging Louis in the backseat of his mum’s Land Cruiser. Well, it was more along the lines of “Sorry, hon, I’ve got other plans,” but she might as well have said my version.

Sighing, I opened my window and straddled the sill, putting my hands behind my head and staring at the neighbourhood cast out before me. A chilly Melbourne breeze slithered by, plucking the strange little brown pods with straggly pink needle like petals off the nearby gum trees. One fell into my lap and I picked it up, twirling it about in my fingers before spotting Felix on the ground below and taking an aim at him. The pod, weighing barely more than a knut and bolt, drifted well off course as the wind took a shot at it again.

“Ben!” I sat up routinely and trudged out to the hall, “Ben!”

“Yeah?” I yelled down the stairs.

“Come here!”

“Yep!”

I persisted in making my way downstairs, pondering on what my father wanted to talk to me about. I searched the space around him for his thoughts but found them tightly shut out. He gave me a stern look, shaking his head at my attempts. Living with me for sixteen years had kept him on guard at all times. It was stupid of me for even trying, what kind of soldier lets his guard down for even a second?

“I need to talk to you about something very important.” He said, stressing on the word ‘talk’. He had this twisted idea that my conversational skills were not upto scratch, since I just read everyone’s thoughts and anticipated their decisions instead of going through a normal, civilized conversation like normal, civilized humans did.

“I’m listening.” I mocked. Dad stiffened, but let the remark pass. Then his expression changed. It grew soft, almost nervous, as if he were about to tell me he was pregnant. I brought together my eyebrows suspciously, frustration bubbling in my throat at the fact that I couldn’t just read his thoughts.

“What…what do you think of Michelle?” And then I knew. I didn’t need to read his mind to see what the softness was behind those eyes. The nervousness that comes before a serious consultation with someone important to you. The nervousness that comes before telling your son you want to get remarried. Dad frowned at me anxiously.

“I can’t say I know her too well, Dad,” I said lightly. I folded my arms. “She hasn’t been around for long,” I added. Dad nodded.

“Would you…would you be alright with me uh…how do I put this?”

“Proposing to her?” I prodded.

“Stop reading my thoughts!” Dad frowned.

“I didn’t, I read your face,” I defied. Dad sighed and I suddenly felt sorry for him. I’d never seen him so hopeless. “Do you think what I’m doing is right?”

I didn’t know what to say. Dad never asked my opnion on the women he saw and I never offered to give it. When it came to females, we were a lot alike so I was more than surprised when I found that Dad was ready to make a commitment.

“But she’s really young, isn’t she?”

“She’s only three years younger than me,” he said thoughtfully, “Thirty-two. Is that weird?” I shrugged. He really genuinly seemed to care what I thought about her.

“No dad, it’s not.” I assured him. “Though…”

“Yes?”

“I think you’re going too fast. You only started dating her like two months ago.” I braced myself for the yelling but it never came. Dad nodded thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if it should be done imediately or in a few months time…just to be sure…” He said, more to himself than me.

“Yeah I think that’s a better idea.” I said, though I don’t think he would’ve changed his mind if I told him it wasn’t. He seemed really nervous, yet anxious to get it over with at the same time.

“So would I be doing the right thing?” He looked at me desperately.

“If you love her, I guess,” I said uncertainly, running a hand through my hair.

“I do but…” he looked down, he seemed ashamed.

“But what?” I pressed.

“Not as much as your mum.” It came out in a sigh, as if he was letting some great weight off his heart. I couldn’t help smiling. “Is that wrong of me?”

“No dad. Atleast, I don’t think so,” I said, confident now, “I’m actually kinda glad,” I smiled and he grinned back.

“Come here,” he said, walking toward me and pulling me into a firm hug. I smiled, he seemed really happy, something I hadn’t seen in the old soldier before. We pulled away and I looked properely at his expression. Dad wasn’t actually as old as I made him out to be. Now that he was smiling, and his eyes were soft, the old, bitter, heart broken soldier seemed to have fallen away, leaving the part of him that would occasionally pop out and be my best friend. And, as lame as it sounded, I knew it was the guy who fell in love with my mum; it brought an immense feeling of warmth and new perspective into our relationship. Everything I had hated him for before, I finally understood.

Even the most disciplined of soldiers get their hearts broken.