Special Delivery

Today the package I was expecting was finally delivered.

Most of you know who Spencer is: The fellow who runs the delivery service? He came up to my door this morning'

 "Delivery for..." His smirk softened to a grin. the sort of grin used in the noir films by dashing detectives. "Why hello there." He walked like an automaton as he entered: slow, awkward. He's extremely tall, I'm not sure if anyone's ever said that.

I insisted on seating him and giving the man a drink. While I was making his tea he seemed a bit uneasy. Because of me? I hope not.

I felt his eyes on me as I bustled with the tea, but still I did not expect him to strike up a conversation.

Spencer: "How have you been? It hasn't been easy lately, I gather."
Me: "...it comes and it goes. It gets hard to hold on to me, sometimes...not Thank you so much for asking. And Schrodinger...its hard. It's really hard"
Spencer: "Believe it or not, I know the feeling." He still had that slight smile  but his voice...his voice was so sad.
But I couldn't stop talking about myself.

Maurice: "Its not even so much that I'm giving into some unknown force, sometimes...I'm just too weak to hold onto myself. Rachael isn't strong enough to hold myself together, when it's really bad..."

Spencer: "It's surprising. you seem almost... hostile."
Me:"I just...things are weird. I...sometimes I wonder if Maurice is even the way... he appears, sometimes...I don't know I'm not a psychologist. I'm trying as hard as I can to be strong but it's never quite good enough."
Spencer: "He's trying his best, I think." his voice was quiet and unusual, and he was looking away from me, something so off, so...uncertain. "it's.. all to protect you so far. We get... twisted. We start to exagerate features to the point of interpretation of others, but if you just look at actions..."

It was in this moment I understood. Spencer was nervous. Just like me. He didn't know what to do either. Like me, he plays a part, though he plays it far better than I do.




Me: "...I think we understand each other better than we let on. Tabulas Rasas. Or we were." she says quietly, nearly a whisper." Am I wrong?"

He looked at me, earnestly, plaintively almost. I had hit a nerve, as he had hit mine without even knowing.

Spencer:"It's hard to judge right and wrong these days. Good an evil. Is it so bad if you think you're doing what's right? what's needed?"

Suddenly the smile returned, and he settled back. Buisness once again.

Spencer: "It's a good car. Was used by a mob boss way back when. Re-enforced paneling for bullets and collisions."

I smiled, a smile to show I was okay with going back to the matter at hand. That I could cope.

Me:"Good. I'm...I'm trying my hardest to do the right thing. I'm already going to hell. Its appreciated." I paused,  unsure if I should keep talking.
"I'm going to try to stand on my own two feet. You understand, right? Whatareyougoingtotake?"

Spencer: "Thanks for the tea. You're a lot more polite than a lot of the people I deliver to these days."
 Me: "I can't be rude. If I wasn't polite, I'd be alone. Who'd agree to visit a  Proxy who was rude?"

There was a quiet pause, a more comfortable one.
Me:"Give Elaine my best when you see her. You are welcome to stop by any time you are in the area."

He shook his head sadly.
Spencer: "let's hope we both last that long." He took his payment with him. As he stood up, he suddenly turned towards me. He leaned in close, stubble brushing her ear.
Spencer:  "... thank you."

His skin was as cold as ice.




I froze up. I didn't know what to do so I let my long dormant instincts take over and I hugged Spencer tightly. He seemed just as shocked as I did, but soon slowly but surely he returned my hug.

Only two other people have hugged me in the last twelve years.



Another pause, this time in the doorway.

Spencer: "Stay safe, alright? Both of you."

I smiled at that, because what else can you really do but smile?

Me: "Thank you for everything, Spencer."

Spencer: "... heh. Exit the tragic hero."


And then he was gone, into the bright summer morning.

I'm posting this from a truck stop somewhere in the middle of America. I'm going to live, now. I'm done hiding in the rainy nights of New York.

I'm breaking out, NOW.
I will try to find something more then the roles and acting I left behind.