PhD Candidate Faustus

14: away from such vain fancies and dispair

Helen

When I wake up, both dogs are sitting outside my room looking glum. I'm sure they're disappointed that Jamie doesn't absolutely love them like everyone is supposed to according to their dumb doggie minds. I throw on gym shorts and a swim suit top, despite the cold I expect to be lured into the ocean, and then I put on an oversized long sleeved t-shirt. I see Mrs. W out on the back deck by the pool, so I fix us each a cup of coffee before going out.
"Good Morning," I say, toeing into a pair of rubber sandals on the back step and letting the dogs push past me.
"Good Morning, oh thank you love," she says, as I hand her her cup of coffee. It's past ten, we all slept late after the late flight, "I was just watching those two."
"Yeah, more interesting than birds," I say, smiling a little.
Jamie and Faustus are walking down the pier, clearly arguing rapidly about something. Faustus is in an ivory sweater and jeans, and Jamie is in a ripped Coca-Cola t-shirt, like ripped in a very old way, like left over being homeless type of ripped, and a pair of equally beaten sweat pants. Jamie is barefoot; Faustus is in boots. The sea wind ruffles their hair, and their faces are already red.
"I'm glad you brought them," she says.
"Yeah um—like I said before, I don't know how long Jamie's really been off the streets, but it's not long, they were with me, when the cops seized it, um, they ran off though, I thought they were dead," I sigh. Jamie said not to tell anyone for liability reasons, but I'm electing to ignore that for their own good, also I don't feel right not telling Mr and Mrs. W who Jamie is to me, they aren't just a school friend, and honestly their behavior and vocabulary is more understandable given their situation.
"Poor child—I thought it was only girls with you?" She frowns.
"That's what the cops thought, Jamie's complicated," I wave a hand by way of more explanation, "Jay now, is what they're going by. Like I said, I haven't gotten a solid story on how they fell in with Faustus."
"And they won't go to the police for the case?"
"No, I asked," I shake my head, "From what Jamie's said they have more crimes more recently—to do with being homeless—they don't want to be charged with. Also, they're terrified of being found by their birth family. I don't know why. It's something pretty bad I expect but they've never said, just that that can't happen. Jamie isn't their real name either I don't know what is. I'm only telling you all this because it's only fair—you're putting them up—I just can't not help them."
"No of course not, anything we can do, you know that. He's not a bad boy," she says, shaking her head, "Kind—do you know what happened to his face?"
"No, I've heard a couple of lies. When I met them it was fairly fresh—not like completely recent, but within a couple of years I suppose, it was much deeper and more red. We met when we were ten, we were at that place two years before the police picked us up," I say, a shiver running down my spine, "Jamie--Jay, ran after that. It's been four years I can't imagine—anyway that's the tattoo on his wrist, covering up this shit." I raise my hand in reference, as usual I'm wearing a thick cuff bracelet over the mark.
"And he won't tell you anything? What does he think's he's running from? As a minor he's be absolved of most charges," she says.
"I know. I think it's more than that, like he thinks his birth family would get custody, or something. I don't know."
"And you thought he was a girl before?"
"Like I said, Jamie's complicated. You never get a full story or a straight answer," I say, shaking my head, "When I really asked they said they aren't anything at all."
"Hard life for someone so young," she says, "He's with the other boys' family now though you say?"
"Ish, I don't know how formal it is when Jamie's still using a false name and all."
"What's his story? Johan?" She asks.
"Oh um, yeah. Pretty sure Aspergers, or something like that, definitely extreme anxiety disorder, he uses Jamie as a guide dog—far too smart for anyone's own good—and really, really, really lonely. Nobody's ever stopped to listen to him properly," I say, "And I like him. He's never had real friends before. And despite the obvious I think he's good for me."
"Good, I'm glad. You like him better than that boy who asked you out the other week?"
"Lorrain, yeah, I gave him a firm no. I'm not looking for that right now, maybe after the trial. I don't know. I'm enjoying this for now, school, and studying with Faustus and doing the activity things with him is fun and that's all I need right now," I say.
"He seems nice."
"You don't have to say that. I know how he is," I laugh.
"No, really, he seems like a nice boy, but what's important is that you're happy."
"I have days," I shrug, "Just days. It's weird seeing Jamie like—that's where I was four years ago. Not believing it when people gave me food and still marveling at a warm bed every night. But school is good, classes are good."
"I'm glad for you, and I'm glad you've found friends as well. If you do find anything out or there is anything we can do for your Jamie, I'm more than glad to talk to the lawyers who helped us with your case."
"I appreciate that—they do deserve it they are really, really trying to turn it around they're doing okay in school just—I don't know what they're running from," I frown.
"Well, perhaps he can share it with you."
"Maybe," I say. Jamie is like a Rubik's cube, you turn and twist and work your way around and still everything is a confusing mess. There is some secret pattern some code to get the right answer, but it's a thousand and one chance of you guessing it, and the longer you try the more confusing it becomes. Sometimes I wonder if even Jamie has the cypher to their own heart. And oftentimes I can't bear to ask.
Because right now they are smiling. The sea wind is in their short curls, and they're smiling and they look like the seventeen year old kid they are supposed to be and not what were made into.  And today we should get to enjoy the sunshine and forget all the rain.

Mephistopheles

"So, since we're protected by the barrier island that breaks the waves, so this isn't technically an ocean it's a sound which historically—-MEPHISTOPHELES, NO PUT ME DOWN I COMMAND YOU I'M YOUR MASTER AND I'M DISABLED—," naturally I picked him up and ran the length of the pier, hopping off.
We both go under into the freezing salt water for a moment, but I kick us back up to the surface and we are both laughing.
"Ridiculous—I wish I could drown you—," my friend who usually has the personality of a wet cat, now looks like a wet cat, and I can't stop giggling.
"Absolutely ridiculous, I can't swim and am disabled, I will make you pay—,"
"Good, punish me," I say, tugging him under water again, then letting him up.
"That's completely dangerous you shouldn't do that I—,"
Yeah, I splash him in the face with water.
All this commotion draws the dogs, who either try to kill us or save us we can't decide which, but either way the dogs actively bite us and tow us to shallower water while their owners try to call them off.
This does not deter Fausty and I though, who are still bickering.
"There, that will teach you," Faustus says, lounging in the waist deep water, getting a handful of sand and throwing it into my face.
In retrospect, I have no idea why he didn't think I'd do the exact same thing in return. He actually cries out in rage, pushing me over into the water to drop sand in my face.
I laugh, and for a moment he's above, the sun shining through his wet hair, glasses glistening with salt water, and I realize he's smiling too. I wrap my legs around his waist and flip him off of me and into even shallower water. He comes up coughing and covered in sand, happy to just make a sand ball to lob at me.
At this point the dogs decide to break us up again and start walking on us and drooling general.
"Agh—help—Mephisto? I take it back!? Please save me? I apologize for the last two times I dropped sand down your throat not the first three you deserved those—,"
"Coming," I laugh, climbing to my feet, suddenly freezing cold in the beach's harsh wind. I scoop him up easily and rather than try to plant him on his feet among the dogs, just carry him back up the beach towards the house while the dogs try to stop me from doing that.
"Told you they'd try to save you," Mr. W grunts, amused at our sandy forms.
"Am I allowed to drop him in the pool to get the sand off?" I ask, politely.
"DON'T YOU DARE DROP ME IN THE POOL TO GET THE SAND OFF OOOOF," the ooof comes when the pocket full of sand I had came in handy and I just dropped it in his mouth.
"There's a shower up by the house you might prefer," Mr. W looks vaguely amused.
"Thank you," I get out, right before Fausty spits up enough of the sand to cram it in my face.
The shower is warm, but we are still dripping, so Helen throws us towels to wrap up in, not even surprised at our state. I lie down on the deck, not wanting to get wet on the cushions of the chair, but first I drop Fausty, now clear of sand, into the pool.
"Oh, so you do know how to swim then," I say, lying on the deck watching him swim towards me. He'd probably do better without a metal half a leg but to be honest he's doing fine.
"You're swimming completely fine," Helen says, sitting down on a deck chair to put her feet on my back. That turns out to be a bad move because Fausty pulls me in the pool. Well, he was trying to use me to crawl out, but I'm slippery and turn to jelly on command.
"You are completely ridiculous, we need to practice you being a ladder for me to use as I'm disabled."
"Yeah, all right, we'll do that," I laugh, climbing out and actually helping him this time. Mrs. W gives us more towels, she's smothering laughter but it's for Fausty's benefit. I rub a towel through his hair to stand it up then wrap the big thick towel around both of our shoulders. I look down at my grandmother's necklace, smooth and cool against my skin.
And for the first time, I realize, she'd be happy with me. For the first time I hope she's looking down on me. Before I always wished otherwise, hoped she couldn't see what I'd become. But now? Here? Like this? Laughing with my friends, at these people's nice house, looking out at the horizon, covered in sand and dripping with pool water, she'd be glad for me. She'd want me like this. For the first time I think that. That she might be proud of me now. And be glad of how far I've come. I've got a lot farther to go. I know that.
Faustus leans against me, for some reason, his head on my shoulder. He's not said two words to anyone but me this morning, of course he doesn't like talking to people he doesn't know. He'd be completely awkward sitting here, but I'm here so that's all right. I wrap my arm around him.
"You're shivering, we should go inside and change, actually," I say, squeezing him.
"I don't care, we could start a fire," he says, very casually.
"No!" Helen and I say, in unison.
"We agreed we'd go a week without fire," I say.
"I never really agreed to that," Faustus says, as I stand up, tugging him up too.
"You absolutely did. I have it in writing," in blood.
"Damn, I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."
"We did go over I work for Satan?" we're saying all this as we walk in the house, only to be knocked over completely by the dogs, who apparently missed us in the last four minutes.