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My concept is based on identity.
Echo Mountain is part of the Las Flores mountain-range, east of Los Angeles, California. It is situated above Altadena, and named ‘Echo Mountain’ due to the startling amount of vocal responses that can be heard from certain points on the mountain.
During the construction of the Mount Lowe Railway, scout groups were sent to locate the areas with the most echoes. Once found, structures known as ‘Echo Phones’ were set up. Although, these days, most of the original Echo Phones are either museum-owned or set on private properties.
To establish the point of identity from Echo Mountain, I must first go further west and describe the energy of Los Angeles as a city.
As a child, Los Angeles had me spellbound as the city that celebrated creation. Directors directed, actors acted, cameramen captured – and once it was done and finished, they would all celebrate and have a great party; they would go to the premieres in limousines and walk the red carpet dripping with jewels.
However, Los Angeles, as the ultimate city of creation, is also a city that celebrates destruction.
With a ceaseless history of gang warfare, racial tension, shootings, prostitution and robberies, Los Angeles is a city that celebrates destruction better than most.
It could be compared to the positive and negative ends of a battery – working together to fuel an endless fountain of entertainment.
Between this constant clash of creation and destruction, Echo Mountain seems to act as almost a mediator for the inhabitants of the troubled city.
Being on Echo Mountain seems to have a wholeness to it – without the rush of the city, there is no need for regard to anything other than the earth and the sky.
It is such a quiet and peaceful place, with an almost ‘perfect’ or ‘heavenly’ embodiment to it. It is near impossible for me to find anything negative about Echo Mountain – there is no crime; no gangs; no slums. Nothing negative at all.
So near to Hollywood, which is all about superficiality and images, going to Echo Mountain gives the opportunity to retrieve one’s identity.
At these ‘Echo Phones’, one can shout out and hear their own voice yelled back to them.
This is very similar to a mirror, in that it offers a reflection.
However, the difference between an echo and a mirror, particularly in Los Angeles, is the compulsion to conform to a particular fashion, or image.
Looking into a mirror, people can compare themselves to the typical images of acceptance portrayed by the media – the necessity of being like this, or looking like that. With echoes, there is no opening for judgment – by the self or by others.
A person’s voice is replayed to them, in its natural form, and is totally acceptable. There is never any need to change what is heard back from the crevasses of Echo Mountain. The voice heard back from the canyon will never need botox, or plastic surgery, or cosmetics to cover it up or make it appear ‘beautiful’ to the world.
The voice heard in the echoes from Echo Mountain is pure and unaltered, and yet will always be socially acceptable. Going to Echo Mountain gives a sense of identity because of this; it allows one to truly be themselves, without fear of assessment from popular culture.
Echo Mountain creates a new form of the traditional ‘self’, in that it places an ordinarily acoustic being (the person’s voice) into the third dimension.
Just as any physical object can be seen and studied from several different angles, so too can the voice in the form of an echo. It can be heard and considered from many different angles from the echoes of Echo Mountain.
And, of course, all angles are perfectly allowed in modern society. The voice is always acceptable. Every voice replayed from Echo Mountain is in its truest form, and that is fine. The voice has no need to be changed.
The echoes give a person identity away from their image, or physicality. There is something very ethereal about this, as though, “Even when my body is gone I will still exist – these echoes prove that I can still be here, even without a body.”
Just as nothing negative can be found about Echo Mountain, nothing negative can be found about the self while on Echo Mountain.
The mountain can not only soothe the blazes between creation and destruction so near, in Los Angeles, but it can also calm the far more intense battles that rage inside the human consciousness.
The incessant queries of what is ‘right’ and what is ‘wrong’. Echoes from the mountain give retorts – “it’s not right, it’s not wrong, it just is.”
It’s not right, it’s not wrong, and the reality is that it doesn’t have to be either.
It seems as though the echoes from the mountain are answers to the question, “Who am I?”
It is amazing to think of the mountain itself, as a formation of such tranquil serenity, located so near to the city of chaos. In fact, it’s not so far from Las Vegas, to boot.
To me, Echo Mountain holds an amazing spiritual power; an essential power. It is the penultimate core of peace that holds Los Angeles together (with the ultimate core probably being God).
The intriguing thing is that Echo Mountain is entirely silent until approached by a human being. There is something special about the pure, uncovered expression of a human being coupled with the raw strength of the mountain, with resulting, 3 dimensional echoes.
I feel as though Echo Mountain can give a person their identity – personally, I can still feel it as a part of me. I feel that without this entity of peace, there would be a part of me missing – a part that was inspired a long time ago, and is still in use today.
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Holy crap! I just realised! I'm alive! Why didn't any of you tell me?
Radioactive Waste (also known as Wasted)
3
French Fries
Marc knocked harshly again on the bathroom door of 61 Bridge St.
"Kyle! Kyle, open up, you've been in there for, like, three hours! What are you doing in there?"
"Don't you mean what am I not doing?" came Kyle's retort.
Marc winced. "Come on, I really gotta go!"
"So do I, but you don't hear me complaining!"
Marc moaned and walked back down the hallway to the lounge room, where Julia and Madilane were seated.
"What in the hell is with that guy and the damn bathroom of a morning?" Marc exclaimed.
Madilane and Julia exchanged glances.
Finally, Kyle appeared at the opening of the hallway. "Bathroom's free," he said to Marc.
"Oh, about time!" Marc pushed passed Kyle and disappeared down the hallway. "Don't you get enough time to admire yourself in the mirrors at the beauty salon, Kyle?"
Kyle rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"So, how has, er... everything been?" Julia enquired awkwardly.
"It's full of crap," Kyle replied. "Literally."
Madilane couldn't contain her burst of laughter. "Ohh... oh, I'm sorry, Dad. But... heh. That's pretty funny."
Kyle smirked and sat down at the dining table next to her.
"Kyle," Julia began, "I've booked an appointment with Dr Xiao for tomorrow, Thursday."
Kyle looked at her, surprised. "Really? Mina? Why?"
"Well, many a thing, really," Julia replied, a grimace on her 44-year-old face.
"Such as?"
"Well..." Julia stood up and stepped over to the stereo, staring evasively at the bouquet of flowers sitting atop it. "Last night... for example... I heard you get up."
"Oh, well, that's so abnormal," Kyle spat. "Pah! Like I ever get good sleep anyway!"
"Well, see, that's just one thing you should talk to Dr Xiao about!" Julia declared.
"I already have, plus I've talked to her about everything else like my back pain and my sinusitis and my con—"
"Let me finish my story," Julia interrupted.
"Oh, right. Sorry."
"Anyway," Julia continued. "Last night, I heard you get up. Now, yes, as you say, that's not entirely unusual. You do get up during the nights a lot - no doubt due to the seventeen years you spent in a consciousness where the sun doesn't set."
"Hey, don't talk to me as if it was my fault the sun didn't set there!" Kyle exclaimed, looking victimised. "It's not like I had a...a... subconsciousness home-buyer's guide!"
"Whatever, that's not the point. The point is that when you got back into bed last night, you were so tense. And I mean tense as in nine years ago tense. And then, whenever you relaxed, you yelped and whimpered as if you were in terrible pain!"
"That's because I was!" Kyle cried. "I told you, it's my back. And neck, and wrists and... pretty much anywhere there's bones really. Jesus, my back always hurts like hell! Yeah, I noticed that last night, too! If ever I went to relax, Christ, it felt like 20 000 volts down my spine! But I've talked to Mina about it before, and she's always said my back seems to be okay!"
"That's a lie!" Julia yelled. "She's always been hesitant to even say anything about your back to us! You always have to tell us about it when you overhear her thoughts! And it's usually stuff like 'Kyle, what in heaven's name have you been doing to this back?'"
"And what does she tell me to do to fix it? Squat! And then if I tell her about my other problems, she checks on them and says they're all fine. So, whatever! I don't care! I don't have anything wrong with my back, okay? Nothing!"
"You've got metal running through your shoulder, for crying out loud!" Julia squealed. "You can't tell me that that, psychological abuse, neurological abuse and constant suicide attempts wouldn't destroy your back over the course of time!"
"That was twenty-six years ago!"
"But it never went away!" Julia cried. "You were in a shocking mental state hiding out there in that Deep! And we don't even know what that substance was. It could have been anything. It could have been some form of hallucinogen... or... some form of sewerage!"
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Not next to my room..." he muttered under his breath.
"The point is," Julia continued, "you are not as healthy as you think! You had terrible posture when Madilane found you!"
"You had terrible everything," said Madilane.
"I know..." Kyle mumbled, looking down.
Julia sighed and looked down as well. "I just want you to get checked," she uttered quietly.
Marc emerged from the hallway. "Whoa, whoa, hey! What's going on? This isn't pre-divorce yelling, is it?"
Julia smiled. "No, Marc. I was just frustrated by Kyle's lack of conscientiousness towards his health,"
"And I was just frustrated because of Julia's frustration about my lack of conscientiousness towards my health!" Kyle tried to joke.
Marc laughed. "Oh.... and this is my life."
Madilane laughed with him. "That makes me think, Marc. When do you go back to work?"
"Few months," Marc replied. "Holidays are what make work worth going!"
Kyle laughed. "Yeah, you're not wrong there."
"What are you talking about, Kyle? Your work has always been freelance. You holiday more than you work,"
"Maybe," replied Kyle. "But thanks to the monstrosity of science I empathise with you anyway."
"Oh, right." Marc looked down. "I keep forgetting about that."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it!" Marc proclaimed, dashing around the dining table and towards the door.
"Oh, no you won't!" Julia announced, yanking him backwards with her tone.
"Aw, why not?" Marc spun around on the spot to face her.
"Because you are the real actor in this place! I'm never letting you answer the door again! Especially after what happened the last time those Jehovah's Witnesses came to the door,"
"Jehovah's Witnesses?" Marc echoed innocently. "Hey, come on! I didn't even see the accident!"
Kyle burst out laughing. "Oh, come on, Julie! Let him answer the door, he's a riot!"
"Oh, all right then!" Julia sat down in her chair, a paradoxical expression of amusement and disapproval on her face.
Marc gleefully sprinted over to the door, looking like an excited little kid on Christmas morning. He flung the door open wide and greeted loudly, "Hey! Whoever you are, come in! Oh, hey, it's you! Man, I was hoping for some more Jehovah's Witnesses to torture! Come in, mate!"
"Thanks." Jason smiled and stepped inside.
Julia looked up. "Oh, Jason! How are you? Come, come sit down with us!"
"Thanks very much," replied Jason, pulling up a chair next to Madilane and sitting down.
Marc sat down near Julia. "You want some coffee, Jason? Or lemonade, or something?"
"Ah... just some water'd be good, thanks Marc."
"Gotcha." Marc immediately got to his feet and moved away into the kitchen. He yelled back into the dining room, "Anybody want anything else while I'm in here?"
"I'll take you up on that lemonade offer you've got going there, Marc," Kyle replied. "Rose, s'il vous plait."
"I'll take one too," said Madilane. "Wahed munada."
"Two lemonades comin' right up," said Marc.
"Wow..." said Jason. "This house must be really multi-linguistic. Rob told me about Marc answering the phone in Italiano. Now we've got French, and..." Jason turned to Madilane. "What was that language you just spoke, Madilane?"
Madilane smiled modestly. "That was Moroccan Arabic,"
"Wow... that 'round-the-word trip must have really had an impact, eh, Kyle?"
"Hmm?" Kyle, who was sitting on the other side of Madilane, leant around her to look at Jason.
"Well, actually," said Madilane, "I studied Middle Eastern languages in high school. So... you know... I would have known that anyway. Heh."
"Well, don't downplay it," Jason said seriously. "That's amazing. It's really awesome. Anyway, so how is everyone? Kyle, are you going all right today?"
"Mmm," Kyle murmured. However, sitting next to him, Madilane felt a distinctly stony vibe coming from her father ever since Jason had entered the room.
Not again, she thought sadly.
Kyle looked askance at her. "I know what you’re thinking," he murmured so only she could hear.
Marc returned from the kitchen carrying three chinking glasses. He placed the water down in front of Jason.
"Thanks," said Jason.
Madilane kissed Marc on the cheek as he placed her yellow lemonade down. "I love you," she whispered.
Marc gave her a peck and whispered back, “Wuv you!” Grinning, he proceeded to place the pink lemonade in front of Kyle, who took it rather coldly without saying anything.
"Hey, where's my kiss?" Marc demanded. He laughed and took a seat again by Julia.
"So, Jason," said Julia. "Was there any special reason for your visit?"
"Well, kind of, there was," Jason replied, staring at his fingers on the tabletop. "Really, though, I just wanted to see how Kyle was going. I was really worried about him back there at the studio. I didn't think he'd act like that; he didn't seem well."
"No, we'd noticed that, too," said Madilane, looking Jason in the eye.
"Really? Good, then it wasn't just me. How has everything been since then, Kyle?"
Kyle, who was now staring at his fingers the way Jason had been moments before, simply mumbled incoherently.
"Kyle?" Jason looked around Madilane to where Kyle sat.
"Yeah..." Kyle took a breath. "I've been OK."
"Actually," Julia piped up, "I have recently booked Kyle in to see his doctor tomorrow. I think we've all been a little worried about him. We do, after all, love and care for him so much." As she spoke, she did not lift her gaze once from Kyle.
Jason nodded. "Well, I was just wondering... would you like me to give you a lift to the doctor's tomorrow, then? I've got a really cool car, if it's any incentive." He grinned.
"That's very thoughtful of you, Jason," Julia replied. "Thank you, we'd really appreciate it."
"No worries. I was just, like I said, concerned for Kyle. You know, I mean... I know I've never really known the guy, but.... well, seeing him on other talk shows and stuff - which is really what I run - I just was a little surprised with your... lethargy, I suppose you could put it, Kyle."
Madilane and Marc both began wondering why Jason was becoming so involved. Had he perhaps noticed something in the studio they could not have?
Kyle nodded, still staring at the polished cedar tabletop. "I'm just tired," was all he could reply.
Jason nodded. "Understandable. It's really funny... how come life is always trying to kill us? It's almost as if the cosmos is self-destructive."
Marc chuckled. "Heh... I quite like that."
"Life is a beautiful thing," said Madilane. "Like a pressed flower - so delicate and easily destroyed. If it were not so fragile, it would never be so beautiful. The indestructible things we see in this world - concrete, steel and slate - could never be as gorgeous as that which is so easily lost - trees, forests and mountain springs."
Jason smiled at her. "Wow... you really are a writer, aren't you?"
"Well..." Madilane shrugged shyly.
"Did you ever do any writing for your Dad's films?"
"Actually, yeah," Madilane replied. "I wrote for a lot of Dad's movies."
Jason nodded. "Wow... I really admire that. That you guys have such a close relationship. It's so heart-warming."
"Where do your parents live?" Julia wondered.
Jason's smile flickered. For one split-second, Madilane could see someone else on his face; someone unlike the cute, grinning Jason she had known so far. Someone else entirely.
Then he perked up again and replied, "You know, I could hardly tell you. Lost track of them a long time ago."
It was obvious to Madilane that she wasn't the only one in the room to pick up on the emptiness of his words.
"Well, anyway, we really appreciate your consideration, Jason," said Julia. "Kyle's appointment is tomorrow at midday."
Jason nodded. "So, I'll pick you up at... 11:30, say?"
Julia smiled and nodded. "It's a date."
So, the next morning, a silver convertible pulled up out the front of the Sipowicz family home. Naturally, Marc was the first on the scene, bouncing around the car and spreading his fingers over the paint with a look of desire glittering in his amber-hued eyes.
"Nice, huh?" Jason asked as he got out of the car and walked around to Marc. He couldn't help but grin at Marc's teenage-boy reaction to the car as he tossed his keys from hand to hand.
"Ohhh...." Marc was speechless.
Madilane, Julia and Kyle emerged from the house more casually and crossed the lawn to the car. Kyle, who had once obtained his driver's license and a similar red convertible during his heights of fame, had since discarded the desire to drive along with his interest in cars.
"Hi, Jason!" Madilane greeted.
"Hey, Madilane!" Jason waved. "Another night tapping away at that computer?"
"You know it!" Madilane grinned, making a pistol-motion with her fingers to Jason.
"Great. Okay, everyone all set? Into the car!"
"SHOTGUN!" Marc shouted.
"Take it," said Kyle, who frequently fought Marc over the front seat whenever the family was together.
Marc looked Kyle up and down as he opened the passenger seat door. "You're being awfully generous today,"
"Don't I know it," Kyle muttered. The statement should have been light-hearted, although it seemed a tad bitter coming out his mouth this morning.
Everybody hopped in the car and Jason started up the engine.
"I'll give you directions as we go along," said Julia as Jason pulled away from the curb.
"No need," Jason replied with a smile. "I already looked up Ms Xiao's practice on the world wide web. I'm a radio presenter - I've always gotta have my facts straight, man!"
Julia laughed. "Well... that's incredible."
Marc, Madilane, Jason and Julia all conversed ceaselessly driving to the health clinic where Mina Xiao worked. They all got along very well, however Kyle remained silent, staring out of the back window with a cold, thoughtful look on his face.
Soon Jason pulled up out the front of Dr Xiao's edifice.
"Would you like to come in with us?" Julia asked as all but Jason got out of the car.
"Um... well, only if it's OK with Kyle," Jason replied. "It is, after all, his appointment. I don't want to impose."
Marc, Madilane and Julia all looked to Kyle. "Um...all right." He shrugged. "Yeah, come on; come in with us if you like."
"Thanks," said Jason. He got out of the car and pressed a button on his keys; the car locked with a beep.
Perhaps by allowing Jason to join them Kyle was trying to prove to Madilane and Marc that he was not uncomfortable at all having Jason around. Although, if that was indeed his plan, it was not going down entirely well. As they walked in, Marc sidled up beside Kyle and murmured, "You know, I'm seventeen years younger than you, and yet, at the moment, it seems as though you're acting younger than me."
Kyle simply murmured - he had long been out of things to say.
They entered the building into the small reception area. Julia told the secretary who they were, and, without waiting too long, they were soon all in the examination room with Mina Xiao.
Mina, a fellow 'inmate' of the laboratory Kyle had been detained in as a child, was a slender, pretty woman with silky straight black hair, almond-shaped eyes and porcelain-like skin. She greeted Kyle with a hug.
"Oh, Kyle, how have you been? I haven't seen you in eons! I hope you've been acting your age, for once?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kyle laughed.
"You know precisely what I mean, college boy. Now, lie down on your stomach here on the examination table and let's take a look at that back."
"Oh, you mean the battlefield?" Marc piped up as Kyle took off his shirt and climbed onto the bed.
"Close enough," Mina replied bluntly as she prodded up and down Kyle's back.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," Kyle complained with each poke.
"Let me guess," Mina sighed, "it hurts when I go like this?" She prodded Kyle's back especially hard.
"Aaaghh, yes!" Kyle screamed, lifting half his body off the examination bed.
Mina sighed. "Kyle, I want to be able to do X-rays on you so much. Your back really is deadly. But... you know I can't."
"Why can't you?" Jason wondered.
"Pacemaker," Kyle said quickly. "Yeah. Metal in the pacemaker. Could kill me."
"Ah." Jason nodded.
"Anyway," Mina sighed. "I don't want to do X-rays because they're just too risky. But, speaking of your... pacemaker... you are aware, aren't you, Kyle, that that.... pacemaker... is made out of a metal that absorbs phosphorus?"
"What?!" Kyle screamed.
"Ah, geez!" Jason rubbed his ear.
Mina looked down at the floor. "It's true. That's why you're bones are so brittle - the metal has been absorbing the phosphorus from the bones in.... that area of your body."
Kyle stared out of the window, an empty look on his face. After a long hesitation, he asked, "Then how come my ankles and knees make those cracking noises all the time as well?"
"Because in order to disperse phosphorus evenly throughout your entire body, less is distributed everywhere," Mina explained. "Just like if you have a spoonful of jam and a piece of bread - if you spread the jam evenly all over the bread, it will hardly be noticeable. But that's how the body works - it makes sure everything get treated equal."
"Much unlike our political structure," Jason joked.
"So... what?" Kyle asked. "Should I... should I take supplements? Because I sure as hell can't take the damn metal out,"
"No, I know. But you can't take supplements." Mina frowned and shook her head. "It's something about the metal that Lennox used, Kyle!" She looked him in the eye. "You know that they invented their own metal and magnetics. This metal is unique. The phosphorus it sucks up fortifies it."
Kyle gulped.
"Thus, if you take supplements," Mina concluded. "It will only make the problem worse. It's a hideously ingenious design."
"Of course it is," Kyle uttered softly, staring at the floor. He wiped the tears from his eyes before anyone noticed them.
"Anyway, come with me into the radiology department and I'll get you something that might help your ailments. Might."
Mina exited the examination room. Kyle got off the table, pulled his shirt back on and the five followed her down a hallway and through two double-doors into another hallway; a much larger one this time.
"Just follow me down to radiology's reception," said Mina, looking over her shoulder at the others. Soon, she rounded a corner into a reception area. The zirconesque glass of the skylight sent blue-tinged sunlight pouring through the ceiling. As she entered behind the reception and knelt beneath the desk, a portly senior with thinning white hair and square-rimmed glasses rolled two enormous boxes up to the front desk.
"My lovely Mina," he greeted, peering over the desk at Mina's back as she rummaged around.
"Sorry?" Mina looked up. "Oh, Luke! Hello! When did you sneak in?"
"Just then," Luke replied. "Got a special delivery for you,"
"Oh, Luke, you're an angel!" Mina beamed as she looked at the boxes. "You have no idea how thankful I am. It must have been horrific trying to get these things here!"
"Not at all, my lady," said Luke. "You know that it's my job. And a fine job at that." He pushed a clipboard onto the desk. "Sign here, if you'd please."
As Mina signed, Marc pointed to the huge boxes. "What's in those?"
Luke looked Marc in the eye and declared proudly, "Spare nuclear parts for the X-ray equipment. Fresh from the Gamma Girl herself, Givena Francis."
Julia, Kyle, Marc and Madilane all looked up sharply. Kyle a little too sharply, it would seem, as a loud crack was heard and he clutched at the back of his neck. "Oww!"
"Did you say Givena Francis?" Julia demanded.
"Yep. You know it," Luke replied, still looking incredibly privileged to be saying the name.
"My God!" Julia exclaimed as Marc and Madilane's jaws both dropped. "She's my mother!"
"Whoa!" Luke took a step backward. "You must be loaded!"
"What?" Julia spluttered. "Loaded? No! I don't even know her! Who is she? Where is she? I've been trying to contact her my whole life!"
"Whoa!" Luke exclaimed again. "I can't believe it! Wow! You have to get in contact with her! Givena Francis is one of the largest nuclear entrepreneurs in the world!"
"How can you be a nuclear entrepreneur?" Marc wondered.
"Well, she found a way," said Luke. "Yep, Givena Francis. Whenever I run trades from her corporations, I feel lucky. If there could be designer labels in the world of chemistry, her corporation would be the one. Givena Francis Enterprises. GFE. Yep - the Queen of the Quantum. The Power Plant Princess. Schrödinger’s Kitty. Man alive, I can't believe you've never heard of her before! She’s like radioactive royalty!"
"Enough alliteration already!" Kyle rolled his eyes.
"Well, sorry."
"Anyway," Kyle continued, "the reason we have not heard of her is because, going about out daily lives, we don't really have that much to do with nuclear power. As opposed to you, who delivers all of this biohazardous stuff to various medical practices around the country....”
"My God..." Julia whispered in awe. "I can't believe it! My estranged mother! Where is she, do you know?"
"I sure do." Luke nodded. "Her head office, along with a lot of her other things, is located in Granatia."
Kyle gasped. "Granatia? That's that state east of here, isn't it? Over the mountains?"
"Not over the mountains, my friend," said Luke. "In them. Granatia. The most coveted state in all the country. Pure paradise, there. Dense forests and untouched gardens stretching as far as the eyes can see. Waterfalls, wild roses and honeybush under every step. Home to the incredible regions of Flying Fox Valley, Strawberry Fields, Moonstone Mountain and Cherrybrook Acres. Along with being the most Utopian of all the states, it's also the most contradictory - there is so much industry. More heavy industry than the rest of the country put together, in that one amazing area. Strange, so much industry in the mountains, there. Especially around Mt Thorley, the volcano there. That's where Givena's power plant is located. The valley town is called Mazona. Near there is her plant. A nuclear power plant, situated right in the middle of the most beautiful forest you could ever see on this planet. Like an oxymoron."
Kyle's eyes widened and he smiled vaguely as he stared at the floor. "An oxymoron..."
Julia stared at him. "Of course!" she whispered, recalling an argument she had had with her then mother-in-law a decade ago. "Old news! You've always been considered oxymoronic, Kyle!"
"I know." Kyle smiled. "It's still heaps better than just being a plain old moron, like Marc."
"Hey!" Marc yelled. "You withdraw that!"
"Or what?"
"Or I'll be forced to resent it." Marc folded his arms across his chest and pouted sarcastically.
Kyle laughed. His aura had changed dramatically since hearing of Granatia - he seemed so young and full of hope all of a sudden. "...That's where we'll be going?" He looked to Julia.
"We'll have to," Julia whispered. "I have to know who my mother is."
"Wow!" Kyle gasped. "I can't believe it! We're going to Granatia! The closest thing to heaven on this Earth! We're going to Granatia!"
Mina, who had been endeavouring under the desk still, stood up and exhaled. "Well... I couldn't find it."
"What was it?" Kyle wondered.
"Oh." Mina sighed. "I ordered in a new chemical that could really help alleviate a lot of your pain,"
"Whoa." Kyle took a step back. "New chemical? In other words... you were gonna drug me?"
"Kyle, we really need to do something about that back of yours..."
"Oh, okay, so you were gonna drug me?"
"Kyle..." Julia sighed.
"Something has to be done, Kyle." Mina shook her head.
"Something? Like drugs? You were gonna drug me?"
"Kyle, enough!" Julia rolled her eyes. "She is one of your best friends. Why can't you trust her?"
Kyle held up his palms. "Did you not hear her, Julia? She said drug."
"Actually, I didn't say that word, technically..." said Mina.
"Nonetheless," Kyle muttered, "you were gonna drug me. You were gonna drug me."
"Kyle, please. This new medication - once I find it - can really help you. You must be in excruciating pain,"
Kyle shook his head sharply. "No drugs. Period."
"Kyle..."
"Perhaps you don't understand the meaning of 'period'!"
Mina looked down to the floor. "Okay," she said with reluctant acceptance. After a moment's silence amongst them all, she looked up again and said, "However, I did find this under the desk." She held up a small, flat plastic device shaped like a square.
"What is that?" Kyle pointed to the device.
"Hold out your finger," instructed Mina.
Kyle warily turned his outstretched index finger upwards. Mina pushed one side of the square device onto his finger; a small needle punctured Kyle's skin.
"Ow!" Kyle shook his hand and sucked on his finger.
Mina examined a round display panel on the face of the device as Kyle complained. "Ow! What is that thing?" He pointed to the device with his other hand.
Mina grinned as she looked at the display panel. "It tests blood sugar levels. I thought it would be fun."
"What does it say?" Kyle asked, still pointing to the device.
Mina frowned. "It looks like your blood sugar levels are actually a bit high, Kyle. Better lay off the liquorice allsorts."
"Aw, but they're my favourite!" Kyle grinned. He pointed to a jar of jelly babies sitting on the reception desk. "Can I have one of those? Just kidding."
"Hey, that does look like fun!" Jason stepped forward and held out his index finger. "Do mine,"
"Okay," Mina agreed. She pushed the sides of the device in as she held it over the bin; the tiny blood-stained needle inside fell out into the garbage. Mina then unwrapped a fresh needle and inserted it into the top of the device. She pricked Jason's hand with it. After examining the display, she held it up. "Normal."
Jason grinned and looked to Kyle, who was still rubbing his index finger. "Looks like you really were coming down with Type 2!"
"Shut up!" Kyle retorted.
Marc, Julia and Madilane all exchanged glances.
Mina disposed of Jason's needle and inserted another fresh one. She handed the device to Kyle. "Here. You can take this. Test those levels again in a few weeks."
"Oh, thanks." Kyle took the device and pushed it into the pocket of his jeans. "Yeah... I'll do that." There was silence for another few minutes, before Kyle shrugged and asked Mina, "So, what now?"
Mina sighed. "Kyle, I really want to be able to help get rid of some of that pain you feel, but I'm afraid I can't do that without some form of physical imposition. Surely you'd be more comfortable with drugs than surgery?"
At the mentioning of the 's' word, Kyle flinched noticeably.
"I thought so," said Mina. "So... I don't know how to help you at the moment. Come back in a few months, OK? We'll see how things are for you then. Any other problems, while you're here?"
"Uh, yeah..." Kyle nodded as he leant over and grabbed a pencil and notepad from the reception desk. "There was my sinus and hayfever troubles, and also.... this." He scribbled something on the page and tore it from the pad.
Mina took it and had a look. "Oh. Yes. You've had that problem for a while now, haven't you?"
"Unfortunately,"
Mina nodded. "Well, you've tried various methods of getting rid of it. None have been successful?"
"None." Kyle shook his head.
"Well... I don't know. Just wait. Time is the best healer."
Kyle snorted.
"And as for the sinusitis," Mina continued, prompted by Kyle's snort, "just leave that for the time being, as well. I'd say it's mainly due to the changes in the weather. You'll be OK, Kyle. Everything's gonna be OK."
Kyle snorted again. "That's what everyone says. Two days later you've got Telempathy."
"Telempathy?" Jason echoed.
"Private joke," Kyle said aside to him.
"Ah, I see."
"And..." Mina put up her hands. "That's it, right, Kyle?"
"I hate my crappy body," Kyle muttered.
"Consider yourself lucky that these trivial problems are all you have to worry about,"
"And Telempathy," Kyle reminded her. "Feel like thinking about any of your other patients at the moment? You know, the ones with confidential details. Because that's what you're doing. Thinking about people worse off than me. Physically. Thinking about their names, addresses and personal details. Think about them some more. Go on. Do it. Do it. Do it."
"Kyle, stop being so threatening," Julia muttered.
"Kyle, I'm sorry." Mina shook her head.
"Be sorry," Kyle murmured, turning around and going back the way they had come. "I'll be in the car."
Jason soon drove the four of them home. "I love this area," he said as the car entered the abandoned industrial district of Petton. In between the empty shops and old factories, there were dozens of parks and green playing fields.
"Me too," Kyle mumbled almost inaudibly from the back seat. Once again, Kyle had stayed silent the entire trip, staring pensively out the window.
Soon, they reached 61 Bridge St. Behind their home, the silver waters of the Reservoir River rippled gently in the breeze. The surface of the water reflected the skies, which were also an overcast shade of steel grey.
Kyle got out of the car and walked across the lawn to unlock the door. Julia, meanwhile, stayed behind with Jason.
"Jason," she began, "would you like to join us for dinner one night?"
"Really? Well, yeah, that'd be great. Only if it's okay with Kyle, of course,"
Julia rolled her eyes and, with a dismissive wave of her hand, replied, "Oh, forget him! He's been acting too strange lately."
"I think he could use a holiday," said Jason. "I mean... I could see the difference talking about Granatia had on his mood. I could see it on his face; I could hear it in his voice. I think that, as much as he probably loves living here, he probably wants to get away from the old industry and everything. Who knows? Maybe hanging around here reminds him of something he'd much rather forget."
Julia nodded thoughtfully.
"But, then again," Jason continued, "Granatia is home to the most heavily condensed industry in the country. Still, I think it would be a bit of a coin flip for Kyle - 50% chance for the nature and escape of Granatia to make him feel better, 50% chance of the heavy industry to make him feel worse. I could find out more about Givena Francis, if you like. If she's as much of a big shot in the atomic world as that tradesman says, I could easily find a way to contact her. That's the great thing about working in media - you really build up a network."
"Jason," Julia gushed. "That would be great! Oh, my... I would be so appreciative if you would do that!"
"I'd love to." Jason shrugged.
"Thank you so much!" Julia leant in the window and kissed him on the cheek.
Jason seemed a little shocked by this gesture. "Er...... yeah."
"Thank you so much, Jason!" Julia squealed. "If you can help me find my mother... you have no idea how in debt to you I'd be."
"I just wanna help." Jason smiled.
"Oh, you're incredible. Anyway, what do you say to dinner at our place? Tomorrow night, at around eight-thirty?"
"That'd be excellent. I'd really love to."
"Great. We'll see you then, Jason!"
"See you." Jason started up the car and drove off.
Julia skipped up across the lawn to the door, feeling at least 20 years younger all of a sudden. She slipped inside to the lounge room, where Kyle was sitting by the stereo with headphones on, and Marc and Madilane were sitting on the sofa looking at a travel brochure together.
"I love Jason DeLaVoe!" Julia shouted.
Marc and Madilane looked up; Kyle stood up, tore of his headphones and exclaimed, "What did you say?"
"Oh, Kyle, don't be so jealous!" Julia muttered.
"No, I'm serious, I couldn't hear you - my music was up."
"Oh." Julia laughed. "I'm so happy! Jason's going to help me get in contact with Givena, my mother! I can't believe it!"
"Wow, that's great," said Madilane. "I can't believe it... this is going to be fantastic! I'll get to meet my grandmother, right?"
"Right,"
"Oh, how cool!" Madilane looked to Marc. "Isn't that awesome?"
"That's really awesome," Marc responded. "But, how is this going to all work out? I mean... your mother has hardly had any... aw, hell, she hasn't had any contact with you. How are you going to approach this?"
"I don't care!" Julia cried gleefully. "I just want to try and find her!"
"Oh, now who's jumping in at the deep end?" Kyle stepped slowly over to Julia. "Doing something impulsively like that without even thinking about it? That doesn't sound like you at all Julia. Not at all; that sounds more like me."
Julia laughed. "I know, I know! I know, but I'm so happy!"
"This is great," said Marc. "This sounds really, really good. I have a feeling this is going to be the start of something special."
"Me too," replied Julia. "Oh, by the way, Kyle, Jason's going to be coming over for tea tomorrow night."
"What?"
"You didn't already know?" Julia wondered.
"No." Kyle shook his head. "I know, it's strange. I mean... like the other day with Marc... and... in the studio with Jason... I just don't seem to be able to tell what people are thinking as much anymore. Is it a good thing or a bad thing? Like Marc theorised - it could be due to the fact that my brain is... shutting down."
"Hey, that's just inevitable decline, I mean," said Marc. "It happens to everyone. The only difference is, with you it's noticeable."
"Well, I'm hardly complaining." Kyle shrugged. "I hate having others' thoughts in my head anyway." He shuddered. "Ugh... it makes me feel sick."
"Anyway," Julia reiterated, "Jason's coming over for dinner tomorrow night. Okay with you?"
"As if I care!" Kyle exclaimed, proving to everyone that he obviously did.
Julia rolled her eyes. "I don't get what your problem is, Kyle. There's nothing wrong with Jason."
"It's not still the movie thing, is it, mate?" Marc asked. "You know, the insults?"
"No, that's not it." Kyle shook his head. "It's just something else..."
Madilane scrutinised Kyle. It was one of the few times that she wished she knew what he was thinking for once. No matter how deeply she stared into his onyx eyes, she simply couldn't see any telltale sign of what was going on behind them.
"Well, he's coming over for tea, whether you like it or not!" Julia laughed. "Stop being so ridiculous. You've been acting really odd lately, Kyle."
"I concur." Marc raised his hand, but he had already lost interest in the conversation and returned to skimming the travel brochure.
"So--" Julia turned back to Kyle. "You're going to help me organise everything."
"What?" Kyle took a step backwards. "What? Why me? You know I can't--"
"Whatever you're going to say, I know that you can, Kyle. You're only making excuses."
"Fine!" Kyle stepped back over to the stereo and put his headphones back on. "I'll make a coleslaw,"
"You'll be doing a lot more than that."
Kyle nodded disdainfully and turned his music back on.
The next night, at around eight-thirty, Jason knocked on the door of the Sipowicz family home.
Marc answered the door - as usual - and beckoned Jason inside. "Hey! Come in, how are you going?"
"I'm good," Jason replied. "I was just--" He cut off and pointed to Marc's hand. "Are you wearing an oven mitt?"
Marc laughed and held up his hand. He was also holding a spatula. "Yeah. I'm doing most of the damn cooking, so..."
"You cook?"
"Unfortunately," Marc answered. "That's the problem with being capable. Everybody takes advantage of it! If you make out to people that you can't cook, clean, lift, read, write or drive, nobody will ever ask anything from you. I can't wait 'til I turn eighty-five."
Jason laughed.
"Come on, come in." Marc turned around and moved back towards the kitchen. "Just make yourself at home," he called back to Jason. "I do, every time I'm here. Ha, just do whatever!"
Jason laughed again and sat down on one of the armchairs. "Where is everybody?"
"Don't ask me," Marc replied from the kitchen. "This place has been dead since seven! I swear - they've dumped me onto this stupid oven and taken off for Granatia all by themselves!"
"What are you complaining about now?" Kyle quizzed as he slid open the back door that led onto the balcony and stepped through into the kitchen.
"Oh, you are here." Marc glanced at him, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the lounge room. "Good, so's Jason. Go and greet your guest, man."
"No problem." Kyle made a pistol motion to Marc, then walked through the kitchen into the lounge room. "Hi, Jason," he greeted as he stepped over to Jason.
Jason stood up and shook Kyle's hand. "Hey. How have you been going?"
"Much better, thanks." Kyle nodded. "Yeah... just been a bit up and down lately, I suppose. Heh, mostly down."
Jason nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. That's good you're feeling better now."
"Oh yeah. Definitely feeling a lot better." Kyle took a few steps back towards the kitchen. "Do you want to come out on the balcony with us? There's, like, a full moon out there, and it looks incredible on the water, there."
"Cool, I'd love to." Jason followed Kyle through the kitchen to the back door.
As Kyle past him, Marc hissed, "You never invited me out to look at the freaking moon!"
"Get back to work, kitchen slave." Kyle cackled and continued out through the door. Out on the balcony - a heavy, industrial ledge several metres above the water - Julia and Madilane stood leaning against the thick metal bars. The water waved like a black satin cloth, the moonlight splashed upon its surface like spilt paint.
As Kyle and Jason stepped over the threshold, Madilane skipped over to Kyle and gave him a hug. "All right, you're back!" She moved and gave Jason a hug. "Hey, Jason! Great to see you here."
Again, Jason seemed a little startled by this unprovoked gesture. When Madilane let go, she laughed. "Ha, wow. You're rigid. You're about as tense as Kyle."
Kyle widened his eyes and glanced around. "What? Hey, this isn't about me!"
"Dad, I didn't mean anything by it," said Madilane. "Don't be so self-conscious."
"How are you, Jason?" Julia enquired.
"I'm really good, thanks for asking," Jason replied. "You know. Like Kyle, I get my ups and downs. I say just deal with it. The world's like that."
"You can say that again," Kyle grumbled.
Marc pushed open the sliding door and stuck his head out onto the balcony. "Hey, guys? Tea'll be ready in three minutes."
"Okay, great," said Kyle. "Thanks, Marc."
Marc nodded and held up a tray. "To help pass the time, please help yourselves to these complementary biscotti-things I just made."
"Oh, thanks." Kyle took one; so did everyone else.
Marc withdrew back inside the house and closed the door gently.
"Julia," said Jason, "I've got some great stuff to talk to you about."
"Really? Is it about my mother?"
Jason smirked. "You'll see." He laughed. "Aw, come on, you know it is!"
Julia bounced up and down on the spot and clapped her hands together. "Oh, yay, yay! Jason, I love you, I love you! What sort of things did you learn? Good things?"
"All good things." Jason grinned. "Well, at least I presume they're good things. Like... I've got a phone number for her. Direct line."
Julia screamed with joy. Kyle cocked his head away from her and rubbed his ear. "Mmm... that's worse than I used to scream."
Julia jumped over to Jason and hugged him, laughing almost hysterically. "Oh, Jason! I love you so much! You've been such a great help! You have no idea how much this means to me!"
"Yeah... well... just... you know... I was just glad to help," Jason replied awkwardly.
Julia let go of Jason. "Oh, wow. You were right, Madilane! He really does put Kyle to shame with that tenseness,"
"Would you say that I'm...... bracing?" Jason suggested, glancing to Kyle.
Kyle gave Jason a piercing stare, but nobody said anything.
The moment could have become much more uneasy, but luckily Marc stuck his head through the door again and said, "Dinner’s ready!"
"OK, great. Thanks, Marc," Kyle murmured.
"No worries. Come and get it."
Everyone stepped back inside the warm kitchen. Through in the dining room, Marc had decorated the dining table elaborately, with candles, flowers and many dishes in the centre of the table.
"Wow. You really go all out, don't you, Marc?" Jason commented.
"Just me." Marc shrugged. "Okay, everyone sit down! I spent way too long perfecting this for you guys to just come along and not demolish it. Go nuts! Kill! Destroy!"
Everyone laughed and sat down.
"Now, Marc and Kyle," Julia said sternly. "I don't want you to do tonight what you do every other night we get the two of you together at this dinner table."
"And what would that be?" Jason inquired.
"Yeah, what did we do wrong?" Marc asked innocently.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Julia muttered. "The usual escapades like fighting over the same steak with your teeth."
Jason sniggered. Marc and Kyle both snorted as they tried to hold in their laughter. Soon the laughter had infected Madilane and she too was trying to contain her giggles.
"So, do we have a deal?" Julia asked.
"Deal," Marc answered. "Now, let's eat. I spent so much energy trying not to eat this stuff while I was cooking it I swear I lost five kilos. Somebody hand me the potatoes. And now. I mean it, I'm hungry!"
Jason laughed and handed the roast potatoes to Marc, who picked them from the bowl with his hands and placed them on his plate.
"Marc," said Julia exasperatedly, "there are spoons for that!"
Marc sighed. "Hey, come on! We never ever use table etiquette when we don't have guests. And if we all lie and act and fake it to make it seem like we really are proper and courteous people, then we'll all have to keep lying and make up more lies and act more just to maintain that lie! I swear, it's just so much easier to go for it! Honesty, Julia, honesty! Besides, like I said, I'm freaking HUNGRY!"
Madilane laughed. "You can tell I had an impact on him. Honesty has always been my plight,"
Jason laughed. "Well, at any rate, don't fuss; table manners mean nothing to me. I've lived on my own for the past twenty-one years – when I eat it's usually from the carton in front of the TV."
"It shows," Kyle muttered under his breath as he pushed some chips onto his plate with his hand.
"So, Jason. What, exactly, did you find out about my mother?" Julia queried.
Jason took a bite from a chip and replied, "She’s big, man. I mean, celebrity big. At least when it comes to the hip pocket. Her corporation has expanded over 139 different countries. She started in the field of nuclear power, probably years before I was even born. Now, she has industries running solar power, wind power, coal power, oil, microwave technologies, hydroelectricity, radiology and has even discussed the topic of atomic warfare with the government."
"Atomic warfare?" Kyle asked through a mouthful of tuna salad. "She was against it, right?"
Jason held his arms up. "Presumably. But, the point is, she is huge. Unbelievably huge. I couldn't get over the reach she has. She produces everything chemical you could ever imagine. She's even working towards the prospect of cosmic power."
"Cosmic power..." Kyle swallowed his mouthful and stared off into the distance. "Like... space power, right?"
"Right." Jason nodded. "Not to mention that she is the official owner of the world's only known source of uraniam-230."
"Come again?" Marc requested.
"Uranium-230," repeated Jason. "Apparently she discovered it. It's a unique form of uranium, more naturally enriched than both uranium-233 and uranium-235 in their post-enrichment states. Which would explain why she called it 230, I suppose..."
"Where does it come form?" Kyle asked.
"Natural sources," replied Jason. "Just like the other uraniums. The only thing is, uranium-230 seems prevalent only in the part of Granatia that she - or her company, I guess - mines it from. Just another reason she's such a big shot, I guess. Weird thing is, she's got all of this cash, yet the mainstream media - like me, for one - don't ever seem to talk about her. Usually anyone with more than a million to their name gets official celebrity status. Not her." He took a mouthful of red wine.
"So, more on the uranium-230?" Kyle enquired.
"Oh. Well, like I said, it's much more condensed than the other radioactive uraniums - 233 and 235. Therefore, less of it is needed to produce the same amount of nuclear power as a larger amount of one of the others would produce. It's obviously worth more. And, it's obviously more dangerous. More radiation means a higher frequency on the electromagnetic spectrum; a higher frequency means a higher chance of genetic mutations and tissue damage."
"Wow, when did we enter DC Comics all of a sudden?" Marc joked. "This sounds supervillainous."
"It might as well be," said Jason. "This uranium-230 is certainly a serious matter. Matter, matter.... Anyway, that's why I was so astonished to not have heard of Givena Francis sooner. Not only is she powerful, but she's sitting on a gold mine. Or, more specifically, a uranium mine."
"I think I could guess why she's not so well known..." murmured Julia.
"I know what you're thinking," said Jason. "You're thinking it's because of the controversial nature of all of this nuclear power stuff?"
"Mm hmm." Julia nodded.
"Yeah, well, I think you're right. Half her paycheque probably gets converted into hush-hush money."
"Wow, that's incredible. Can you hand me the sauce?" Kyle pointed to the tomato sauce bottle sitting near Jason.
"Uh, yeah, sure." Jason handed the bottle to him, and watched on as Kyle unscrewed the lid and poured some sauce over his chips. And them some more. And then more. And more, until there was not a single chip visible under the mass of red sauce.
"Would you like some food with your sauce?" Julia enquired.
"Hey, this is the whole point of chips!" Kyle exclaimed. "The chips make the sauce taste good. The chips complement the sauce! It's not the other way around! Come on, you know me. My meals are always, like, 70% condiments anyway. If these chips aren't totally inundated with sauce and salt, what's the point?"
Jason, Marc and Madilane all laughed, but Julia continued to look on reprovingly. "You ought to watch you're intake a little more, Kyle."
"My intake?" Kyle quoted, pushing a handful of bloody-looking chips into his mouth. "What am I, a factory?"
"I mean the salt. You've already got high sugar levels; we don't need you having high blood pressure as well."
Kyle laughed.
"What's so funny?" Julia demanded.
"I don't know," Kyle chuckled. "It just seemed funny, that's all. Come on, will you lighten up? You're acting as though I'm going to complode any second now."
"You're not as young as you used to be, Kyle."
"Oh, yeah, how old are you?" Jason asked. "I remember that day you asked me my age, later on I realised I should have gotten yours. What is it?"
"In a couple of months I'll be turning 44," answered Kyle. "July the thirteenth. I'm a Cancer." He laughed.
Marc joined him. "Ha, yeah! Kyle hates that! He's really awkward about being considered '44' again because that was his number when he was in--"
"Marc!" Kyle barked. "Shut up!"
"Oh, right. Oops."
"So - sorry, I missed that," said Jason, looking very amused by the conversation. "That was your number when you were where, Kyle?"
"Shut up!" Kyle uttered, staring evasively around the dinner table at the dishes.
"All right, it doesn't matter. Nah, something I'm much more interested in, Kyle," said Jason, "is your movie Exotia. Is that right? Ex-oh-sha? Or is it Ex-oh-tee-ah?"
"No, Ex-oh-sha was right," replied Kyle. "Yeah. Exotia. What did you want to know about it?"
"Where was it filmed?"
"Ah. well, interesting story about that." Kyle put down his fork. "They actually did most of the filming on location in Mauritius."
"Wow, classy,"
"I'll say," Kyle agreed. "It was great hanging out there for five months while we shot those bits. Then the rest was just done in the studio sets in New York."
"Ah, another classy location. Nice."
"Yeah. Oh, ha, it was really funny though when we first got into Mauritius. We had no idea where the hotel was--"
"We? The cast, you mean?"
"Yeah. Anyway, we're all there, right? No idea where to go. We step off the aeroplane - where to, now? And, ok, so one of the guys says, 'hey, you know what? Screw the hotel! It's such a beautiful beach here; let's go swimming!' So we all strip down to our underpants, get in the water... And - oh, man - was this water Utopian! It was so warm... and clean... We were having the time of our lives. Plus, there was not another soul in sight. So we're thinking, 'oh, great, check this out! We've got the beach all to ourselves, all right!' Until of course we heard the screams. Ha! I was closer to the shore - I could get out easier! But not those other guys, they were in deep, so to speak. Jellyfish. Loads and loads of jellyfish everywhere. Ha ha ha, and the other guys - I mean, I was lucky; I didn't get stung - but those other guys... phew. Massive welts the thickness of a car seatbelt. Heh. I know, it was tragic. But still, heh... it was pretty funny. Heh heh heh."
Jason nodded. "Hey... I'm just wondering... are you Greek? Or Italian?"
"Um... no..." Kyle shook his head slowly. "Why?"
"Oh, it's just that you use your hands a lot when you speak. You know, you use a lot of elaborate hand gestures. Just thought."
Kyle shook his head again. "No, I don't think so. I know my Dad was Scotch-Irish, with some Russian-Jewish descent if you go way back, and my mother was of French descent. So... European, yeah, but not Italian, I don't think." He jerked his thumb towards Marc. "There's your Italian."
"Huh?" Marc, who had been preoccupied with a chicken drumstick, looked up.
"Italian. You," said Kyle.
"I wouldn't know." Marc shrugged. "I don't think my parents were--"
"No, I just mean you," said Kyle. "Not your family, you. You're obsessed with anything Italian. You speak it; you cook it. And well, too."
Marc shrugged again. "It's just cool," he said before continuing to attack the drumstick. "What about you?" he asked Jason with a mouthful of food. "You've kind of got the olive skin going... a little bit,"
"In other words I don't," Jason laughed, raising his glass to his lips.
"Well, I 'unno... 'DeLaVoe' - that's a pretty European surname. Are you Italian?" Marc asked.
Jason sighed. "I wouldn't know either," he answered. "I don't really have any contact with my parents. I said that already, didn't I?"
"Oh, you might have," said Marc. "Yeah.... heh. Sometimes stuff just goes right over my head, you know?" He whistled and glided a hand over the top of his hair. "Well, anyway..... what was your childhood like?"
"It was pretty good," Jason replied. "You know, I don't think that it would have been any different to anyone else's childhood. Uh... yeah. Uh... I kind of can't remember it that much." He laughed and picked up the bottle of red wine, filling his glass with it. He drained the glass in one go.
Marc nodded slowly. "Right... yeah, okay. So, how come you don't still have contact with them, your parents?"
Jason refilled his glass and, with a casual nudge of his hand, knocked it over onto the table. "Oh, look at that. I'm so sorry. Oh, man. Isn't that just awful? Red wine all over this beautiful white tablecloth; I am so sorry. Let me help clean this up." He immediately got up from the table.
"Uh... tea towels in the laundry." Kyle stuck his thumb in the direction of the hallway.
"Thanks, man. I am so sorry, Julia. And Marc. What a mess. Excuse me." Jason disappeared down the hallway, leaving the puzzled family to stare at one another.
Madilane, who was smirking a little, locked eyes with Kyle, who was also smiling. Kyle soon burst out laughing. "Ha ha! Oh, Madilane! Don't look at me like that! You're gonna make me pee my pants!"
"What was that all about?" Madilane chuckled.
"Don't ask me." Kyle picked up his own glass and took a few sips, giving a few muffled laughs through the creaming soda.
Jason soon returned with a towel. "Oh, I am so sorry," he said loudly as he mopped up the wine. "Red wine, too. Genocide."
"Genocide?" Marc quoted.
"What?" Jason shrugged. "Can't I coin a buzz word every now and then? You should try it,"
"Making up my own uses for words?"
"Yeah," replied Jason. "Seriously. I mean... I'm on radio, so a lot more people hear what I say.... but, nonetheless, you can never top how awesome it feels when somebody says or does something that you made up. It's thrilliant."
"Thrilliant?" Kyle whispered.
"Yeah: a hybrid. Thrill and brilliant. Thrilliant. It's only natural."
"Yeah, just like reproduction." Marc looked down and laughed.
"Well, personally, I reckon they oughta coin the word 'saling'," said Kyle. "To indicate when stores are having their sales - they're saling."
Jason grinned at Kyle. "Hey... I like that. You're good." He held up a glossy, yellow envelope. Kyle's stomach dropped as he did. "I found these on the windowsill in the laundry, too. Can we look at 'em?"
"Photos..." Kyle uttered softly.
"Yeah. Come on, I'd love to own a share of the happy family Sipowicz!"
"Why, don't you own any shares of the happy DeLaVoe family?" Madilane enquired.
Jason gave her a quick, trepid glance, then turned back to Kyle with a smirk. "So, come on?"
"Go on," Kyle muttered, turning his head away. "Open it. But I won't be looking at them. I know most of them are of me."
Jason, with his fingernails tearing the envelope open, looked at Kyle. "Wow, that's news. I would have thought you'd have loved looking at yourself - you're an actor!"
"Some actors never watch their own films," Julia pointed out.
"Mm. good point," Jason mumbled.
"I love watching my own films and stuff," said Kyle. "Kind of....... But, I mean, it's just the photos that are hard to look at. It's... it's just the frozen..." He paused after saying 'frozen'. "...quality of them I guess. Creeps me out."
Jason shrugged. "Mm, well, fair's fair. I don't really like looking at my own photos either." He finally tore open the package and shook the photographs out onto his palm. Marc, Madilane and Julia all crowded around to look at them with him, even having seen them many times before.
Looking at the first photo, Jason laughed. "Wow, check out Kyle Sipowicz with the red eyes! God, you look demonic!"
Kyle groaned and rolled his eyes, still with his head in opposite direction of the photos.
"Check that out!" Jason went on. "You're like a lamb dressed up in wolf's clothing - a saint disguised as a devil! You look so.... angry.... so evil, almost! It's incredible! And here you are--" Jason directed his hands to the embarrassed Kyle. "--this gentle, kind, caring spirit."
As he said those words, Kyle suddenly perked up. He whipped his head around to stare, bewildered, at Jason. "My God!" he exclaimed. "Just like you!"
The family and Jason all stared at him. "What?" Jason asked.
Kyle pointed to Jason - something he unfortunately did often, pointing inconsiderately at people - and declared, "Just like you! On your show... you always come off as this obnoxious..."
"Arrogant," agreed Madilane.
"Derisive," added Marc.
"Insolent," said Julia.
"...moron," finished Kyle. "I mean, sure, you're entertaining, but such an arsehole! And, now, here you are in real life, and you're such a nice guy! You're nothing like you are on radio! For the love of God, I was treating you like a jerk, and you were concerned about my feelings!"
Jason, who seemed slightly disconcerted now he was in the spotlight, simply shrugged. "Uhhh.... well, heh.... surprise! ...I guess..."
Madilane put a hand to her mouth and giggled.
"Jesus, how blind have I been..." Kyle still had his mouth open in puzzlement. "I never really picked it up..."
"I did," said Madilane, giving Jason a confronting look in the eye.
Jason gazed back at her uncertainly, then, as if revealing a 'Get Out of Gaol Free' card, withdrew a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Julia. "Here's Givena Francis's home number,"
"Home number?" The four family members repeated incredulously.
"Oh, yeah." Jason couldn't help but grin with pride. "I'm pretty good, aren't I?"
"Home number?" Kyle hissed, still shocked. "You nab the number for the boudoir of one of the most powerful women in the world?"
Jason snorted more laughter. "Yep," he replied, as though it were nothing. Looking Julia in the eye, he said, "The number is oh-two, oh-three, six-forty-four--" He glanced craftily at Kyle as he emphasised the forty-four. "-eight-forty-four." He emphasised the second forty-four even more. Kyle gritted his teeth.
"0203 644 844," Julia read aloud, staring at the card in her trembling fingers. "My God... this is it! This is the time!"
Madilane grinned. "Go call her!"
The happiness was shining on Julia's youthful face like the glow of a new morning's sun. "My mother!" she whispered. "My mother! The mother I missed my whole life! Now I can see her! Hear her voice! Speak to her!" Julia dashed off into the kitchen and grabbed the phone off the hook, hastily punching in the digits.
The family and Jason all watched on as she anticipantly listened to the phone ring.
"Hello?" came a crackly, female voice from the other end of the line.
"Givena Francis?" Julia squeaked, shaking.
"Yes? Who is this?"
"Um... I don't really know how you're gonna take this, but..... this is your daughter."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a long, long time, before finally Givena whispered, in a voice as shaky as her daughter's, "...Julia?"
"Mother!"
Givena gasped. "...T-tell me.... what colour is your hair?"
"Blonde,"
"Yes! And your eyes?"
"Blue,"
"And your birthday?"
"April 28," replied Julia.
"My God... and your middle name?"
"Valerie," answered Julia.
"My God!" Givena cried. "You are! You are my daughter! It's you!"
Julia laughed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "And it's you!"
"Tell me, Julia! Are you still a Stinger?"
"No!" Julia replied. "Not for nine years! I am a Sipowicz now. My name is Julia Valerie Sipowicz. My husband's name is Kyle,"
"Kyle Sipowicz?" Givena echoed. "You married the film star Kyle Sipowicz?"
"Oh, yes. Before he was a film star." Julia couldn't help but boast a little.
"Julia! Julia! You must come to me!" Givena's voice was shaking; for all Julia knew she could have been bouncing up and down on the spot. "You must come here, to Granatia! You must! How did you get my number?"
"From Jason DeLaVoe, the radio presenter," Julia responded.
"Oh.... well, I'm not sure I've heard of him. Perhaps his station is not broadcast here.... Oh, no, what am I saying? It's the interference! Yes, from all of the power stations around. Of course. I apologise."
Julia squealed with delight, still incapable of hiding her glee. "We will come! you must meet your granddaughter!"
Givena gasped. "I have a granddaughter?"
"Yes! Her name is Madilane. She's getting married soon!"
"Oh, my! I must meet my future grandson, then, too!"
"Oh, yes, he wouldn't miss it for the world! And you have to meet your son-in-law, and Jason - the reason we're having this conversation,"
"Yes, yes! I must! Come as soon as you can! When can you leave.... wait! Where is it you live? What of your father? Oh, there's too much to discover! You must make it here as soon as you can! There is much to decide upon!"
"Wait, what do you mean 'decide upon'?" Julia asked.
"I fear my time is near," said Givena gravely. "I cannot live forever. I am ill. I must choose an heir for my company. You know what that means, do you not, Julia? Givena Francis Enterprises are worth a collective 798 billion dollars."
Julia nearly choked at the quote.
"That's right. And I am still in the search for a rightful heir. You must bring the entire family here as soon as possible."
"I will," Julia promised. "And I'll fill you in on everything, I swear! Hold on, one tick, would you?" She covered the speaker of the phone and looked to the others. "Guys? When can we leave for Granatia?"
The other four's eyes lit up. "Right now!" Marc declared, standing up.
"Uh.... maybe Saturday," said Kyle. "Next Saturday! --not tomorrow,"
"Yeah," Jason agreed. "That would give me plenty of time to wrap things up for work - at least while I'm away."
"Sounds good," said Julia. She once again spoke into the speaker to her mother. "Hello? How's Saturday week?"
"Saturday week? Perfect!" Givena exclaimed. "Yes, you must come! Come as soon as possible! I'll see what I can do about a place to stay,"
"Oh, my God, that will be lovely!"
"I cannot wait!" Givena cried. "Tell me everything then. I shall call you. I have your number here; I have a display phone. I shall call and tell you all of the details. Although you should go now, dear! It's running up your phone bill, this long-distance call."
"Oh, I don't want to hang-up!"
"I know you don't, but you must! I shall talk to you again soon! I love you, my daughter!" Givena once again made her tone very serious. "I never stopped loving you. I never stopped looking. See you next Saturday!"
"Goodbye!" Julia farewelled. She gently hung up the receiver and turned to face the others.
"....So?" Kyle inquired. "What's going down?"
"Well...." said Julia. She jumped up and down. "We're going to Granatia!"
Kyle jumped up and kissed her; Marc embraced Madilane and the entire family broke out in cheers.
* * * * *
Much later on, when Jason had gone home, and the Sipowicz family home was once again silent, Kyle continued to toss and turn in his sheets. He was having another disturbing dream.
He was back in his den - the one he lived in during his seventeen years of hiding out in the Deep. It was a two room cave, in essence. The first room had a stone table, plus a solitary stone chair. Over against the wall there was a large marble box, which acted as Kyle's bed - it contained a soft mattress, white blankets and two white pillows. On the wall opposite was his fridge, ironically electrical, and a stone sink and counters. Sunlight shone green and gold through a flat palm frond that covered the 'window' at the back of Kyle's place. There was a doorway at the back of the first room which led into the second room - the bathroom.
Kyle sat on the single chair, staring up the long, black tunnel which eventually led up to the beach of his isle.
"Why am I staring at it?" the twenty-nine-year-old Kyle asked himself. "Why do I expect somebody to magically just walk down it? Just to save me? Save me from me? Forget it!"
Kyle told himself internally to stop hoping. He didn't want to hope for somebody to appear, because he knew in his heart that nobody was going to. But he still couldn't stop hoping.
"Stop it!" he cried. "Stop hoping, you pathetic moron! Nobody's coming! No-one gives a flying French fry about you! Stop hoping!"
Still Kyle found himself hoping.
"Knock it off! You think someone's up there? Dream on, you jerk!"
Suddenly mad at himself for saying 'dream on' (that was, after all, what he was living in), Kyle jumped up off the chair and kicked it. Despite being made of stone, it scattered across to the end of the room as though it were made of plastic. Kyle scowled after it, then whirled around.
Upon doing so, he locked eyes with his reflection. The wall next to the tunnel entryway was not stone, like the others. It was made of a gooey, reflective material, like that of mercury. It could often appear very still and flat, just like an ordinary bedroom mirror, and sometimes it could appear as blurry and misshapen as hematite. If Kyle prodded it, it would ripple like water. He initially thought of it as a funhouse mirror, but after seeing it everyday for the past eleven years, after seeing what it could do, Kyle no longer considered it 'fun' at all.
As he stared at, Kyle first saw himself as tall, thin yet strong-looking, tanned and scarred. Of course, that's what he was.
But, as he continued gazing at the mirror, it's surface shook slightly, then began to wave gently, just like the surface of the sea outside his den. As it did, Kyle's reflection changed. First only his eyes changed, becoming a pure, diamond blue. Then his skin darkened, to a deep, rich brown like that of chocolate. Still his eyes stayed blue, yet the scars all over his body seemed to vanish.
Kyle smiled at the evaporation of his scars. As he smiled, the rim of his eyes reddened deeply, and his eyes returned to their usual ebony black. He stopped smiling. As soon as he did, his eyes changed to green, still red-rimmed.
Kyle snarled at his reflection. His teeth were a blinding white in contrast to his now very dark skin, yet his gums were bright red. As he looked on, blood dripped from his mouth. He immediately raised his right hand to wipe it off.
Kyle opened his eyes. He was sitting up in his bed, his right hand held up to his mouth. He could feel the silver chill of the metal brace. He lowered his hand from his mouth and looked at it in the moonlight. It was clean. There was nothing else there. No blood.
Kyle heaved a sigh and glanced over at his sleeping wife. He smiled as he looked at her.
Sometimes I wonder, thought Kyle, if what she sees of me is what I see of myself.
He chuckled to himself and peeked at the digital bedside clock. The blood-red numerals read ten past four.
"Four AM!" Kyle whispered to himself. He considered simply lying back down and going to sleep, but in
Radioactive Waste (also known as Wasted)
2
Airtime
Tuesday morning came surprisingly quickly. At 7:00AM, as Julia drove through town to southwest Petton, towards Toxi FM studios, Kyle sat in the passenger's seat playing Cats in the Cradle with a rubber band looped around his fingers. He twisted his fingers around to make different shapes with the band.
Madilane and Marc sat in the back. Marc stood up and stuck his head through to the front of the car. "When're we gettin' there? I can't wait! This is too exciting! Man, I wish I could be going on air!"
"Do you have your seatbelt on, Marc?" Julia asked sternly.
"Er... no." Marc sat back down on the seat and pulled a seatbelt over him.
"I still can't understand why you didn't just get a job in entertainment, Marc..." Kyle murmured as he continued to play with the rubber band.
"I do have a job in entertainment," replied Marc.
"Oh, yeah." Kyle snorted. "Doctor Marc Aaron. Sounds really entertaining."
"Paediatrician!" Marc exclaimed. "There's nothing more entertaining than working with those kids, man!"
"I know, I know. I've been on the ward with you. Remember? Hundreds of times,"
"Yeah, and you always manage to bring a smile to those kids' faces. That's why I'm so popular in there. They don't say 'laughter is the best medicine' for nothing, you know. I mean...gee... I see some of the other doctors in there trying to get the kids to co-operate. Some of them treat the kids as if the illness is their fault. They talk to them as if they're punishing them. It's horrible."
"I can so relate to that..." Kyle murmured, pausing with his fiddling as he reflected for a moment. After a few minutes, he said, "Oh, by the way, Marc...."
"...Yes?"
"I've been meaning to ask you: What would 'basta, voi pulce piccola' mean in English?"
"That's Italian," said Marc.
"Yeah, I know. What does it mean?"
"Where'd you hear that?"
"It's not important where I heard it!” Kyle yelled. “Why? What does it mean?"
"I can't think where you would have heard that. That's Italian for 'enough, you little flea'."
"Enough.... you little flea...." Kyle echoed softly, staring at the triangular shapes he had made with the rubber band. They looked very much like darts.
After not long driving, the four arrived at the large, square, red-bricked building that contained Toxi FM studios. Julia parked and everyone got out of the car.
"What else does this building have in it?" Kyle asked as he slammed his door shut.
"I don't know," Marc replied. "It looks like a gigantic factory, though."
"Yeah..." Madilane agreed. "Plus it's in southwest Petton. It's all just industrial stuff down here. I would have thought the studio would have been in the CBD."
"Obviously not," Kyle mumbled as he walked through the carpark to the entrance. The four stepped inside, to what looked like a fairly dull reception. It there were no windows, and only a few dim lights shining. Kyle stepped up to the counter and looked through the glass to the small woman sitting at a desk on the other side.
"Hello?"
The woman looked up. "Oh, Kyle! Hi, you're here. Great. Just go up ahead to the lift. It's just there on your right,"
"Great." Kyle smiled and nodded. He moved away from the desk and over to the elevator, where he pressed the button. A 'ding!' was heard, and the doors opened. The four stepped inside.
"What floor is this place on?" Marc wondered as the doors closed.
"Erm... I don't know," Kyle murmured. He laughed. "Probably should have figured that out prior to stepping in the elevator!"
Julia rolled her eyes. "That is just like you. Doing something impulsively like that without even thinking about it."
"Don't worry," said Madilane. "Like I said, I listen to Jason's show every morning that he's on. He's on level 3." She reached out and pressed the button for level 3.
"How can you know what level he's on just because you listen to his show?" Kyle investigated. "What, does he, like, mention it, or something?"
Madilane giggled. "No! I don't know.... you just pick up on those things after a bit. Like, I don't know... I think that once he made some joke about level three at 3:00 AM and how the time was really intermingled with Satan...."
Marc beamed. "Oh! I remember that!" He raised the pitch of his voice a little to flawlessly mimic Jason's. "God, why is my office here on level three? That means it's six flights of steps at 6:00 AM in the morning when it's six degrees outside! I swear to God this station is affiliated with Satan..."
Kyle burst out laughing. "Pwa ha ha! Yeah... that's good! That is so good! You do the voice perfectly, man! Ha ha ha!"
The doors opened with another 'ding!' and the four stepped out into a large, bright room (with windows), filled with lounge chairs, tables and people. Nearly every person standing or sitting in the room held a cup of coffee in their hands as they chatted away with their co-workers.
"Wow, smell that coffee." Marc grinned. "I betcha that boosts your confidence for the show, hey, Kyle?" He patted Kyle on the back.
"It's certainly putting me in the mood for a cup," said Julia. "I'm going to ask somebody where I can get some." And with that, Julia disappeared into the crowd.
"Damn, why'd she have to leave?" Kyle muttered.
"She's been with you to all of these interviews for nine years," said Madilane. "She's bored with all of this stuff."
"Yeah, but I'm nervous!" Kyle said quietly.
"Why?" Marc wondered, picking some chips out of a bowl on a nearby coffee table and crunching on them. "You've been in and out of these things for - as aforementioned - nine years. Why should you be nervous?"
"I just am," Kyle murmured.
"What are we doing?" Marc asked Madilane.
"Don't ask me!" Madilane exclaimed. "I've never been here before,"
"Hey, Kyle Sipowicz!" somebody called out.
"Somebody say my name?"
"Hey!" An attractive man in his forties waved to Kyle as he made his way through the crowd to where Kyle, Marc and Madilane stood. "Hi, I'm Robert Daniels; I spoke to you over the phone."
Robert was the same height as Kyle, with charcoal-coloured hair streaked with flecks of grey, bright, cobalt-blue eyes, and a five o'clock shadow.
"Oh, yeah!" Kyle shook Robert's hand. "Yeah. Hi. Uh, this is Madilane, my daughter..."
"Hi." Madilane and Robert shook hands.
"...And this is Marc, Madilane's fiancé. He's the moron who answered the phone in Italian."
Robert laughed and shook Marc's hand eagerly. "Oh, so that was you! Ha! Very entertaining. È stato veramente un piacere conoscerla, Marc."
Marc laughed. "Yeah, you too!"
Kyle chuckled. For a minute, it seemed to Madilane that he'd relaxed a little bit.
Well, of course, she thought. He's picking up on Marc and Robert's vibes.
"By the way," said Kyle, "How did you get my home phone number? I was meaning to ask,"
"Oh, that." Robert hung his head and chuckled. He put a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Kyle, I'm afraid that, as big as Petton is, there is only one K. Z. Sipowicz in the phonebook." He chortled again. "Heh - Kyle Zachary Sipowicz. Your mother must have really wanted you to feel unique, without feeling out-of-place."
Kyle looked down. "Yeah... she did."
"So. When does this thing start?" Marc enquired.
Robert looked at his watch. "Well, it's 7:30 now, so we've got about half an hour 'til you go on the air. You wanna meet Jason in that time? He's totally bummed that he's never gotten the chance to meet you prior to today,"
"Really?" Kyle raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah." Robert nodded. "Good thing you were brought up last Friday, otherwise J-man would have missed the chance!"
Kyle nodded. "Ohh..." He didn't really seem to be in the moment.
"So, you wanna come into the office now, Kyle, and you can meet Jason? He's been looking forward to this since Friday,"
"I'll bet he has..." Kyle muttered.
"Yeah, so, just come this way; I'll show you to the office." Robert headed off away from them; Kyle followed closely behind, with Marc and Madilane a step in his wake. Eventually they moved down a short hallway, but not for long before they reached a door, which Robert began to unlock with a key.
"So, where is Jason right now?" Kyle wondered.
"J-man? I don't know," answered Robert. "Probably doing something, somewhere."
Marc laughed. "Yeah, that sounds likely!"
"Ha. Yeah... Jason Adam DeLaVoe, heh heh. He and I have been good friends ever since the start of primary school. Heh, back when Jason was just some little weirdo who had no clue what he was doing on this planet."
"Sounds a lot like most of us," Marc commented.
"Ha, too true, Marc. Yeah... Gee, I love him, though. It's great when you go through life with someone like that - knowing them through their ups and downs, their highs and their lows. It's so incredible how much some people can change."
Kyle and Marc nodded, but neither of them could personally relate to the touching depth of Robert's words. Madilane thought she could see where he was coming from, though.
Robert pushed opened the door and led them through to a nice room. In it were some attractive leather lounges circled around a glass coffee table in the centre; at the back of the room was a large window, which took up most of the back wall. There was a water cooler, sink, refrigerator and several bookcases in the room, but not really anything else.
"I like to call this one the 'mini conference room’," Robert laughed. "Make yourselves at home."
"Thank you," said Madilane.
"Yep. There's coffee and tea in the cupboards below the sink, and milk and juice in the fridge," said Robert. "Just take what ever you want. I'll try and find Jason for you. Where the hell is he?"
Kyle and Madilane sat down on the sofas around the coffee table. Marc began rifling through the material on one of the bookshelves, eventually pulling out a magazine and flipping through it casually.
"How are you feeling?" Madilane asked her father.
"I'm going OK," Kyle replied. "I think that I could safely say I been through worse than a few insults."
Madilane smiled.
"Plus, you never know," Kyle continued. "I've never been on radio before. I might actually like it better than TV. But, yeah... I'm still a little nervous."
Marc shut the magazine he was perusing and looked at Kyle. "You know, I still can't understand that! Why, why, why are you nervous? You've had hundreds of offensive interviews before, and you've always eaten them up!"
"Yeah, but then he hadn't known what to expect," Madilane pointed out. "But you've always gotten pre-show jitters when you do live, rehearsed things, right, Dad?"
Kyle nodded. "That's true. I think you're right. I always get nervous when I'm going out live and know what to expect. I suppose this, in reality, is just like another live episode of Golddiggers."
"I suppose..." Marc mumbled, re-opening his magazine.
There came a knock at the door, and Robert stuck his head through. "Hey! Found him,"
"Oh, you did?" Marc asked. "Great, send him in. Kyle's literally trembling with anticipation."
Robert laughed and withdrew his head, then opened the door and stepped through, Jason DeLaVoe behind him.
As Jason entered, Kyle stood up. A little sharply, it would seem. Madilane couldn't shake the odd feeling she had been getting from Kyle that morning. She glanced at Marc. The look in his eyes told her that he'd noticed it, too.
"Here you go Jason, this is Kyle Sipowicz," said Robert, meeting Kyle at the centre of the room. "Kyle, this is Jason DeLaVoe."
"Hi, how are you going?" Kyle reached out to shake Jason's hand. Jason looked almost identical to the way he had on the front cover of the TV guide - overweight, brown eyes and a mischievous grin. However, his formerly spiked black hair was longer now, and flopped around his face at around ear-length. Kyle also thought he looked a bit younger in person than he had on paper.
"I'm great," Jason replied as he shook Kyle's hand. "Yeah, I've definitely been looking forward to meeting you."
"Oh, really?" Kyle nodded. Although Jason couldn't stop grinning, Kyle seemed pathetically poker-faced. Madilane began to worry that Jason might make some smart comment about botox.
"Yeah, definitely!" said Jason. "Come on, you have so much to say, right? I mean, since... 'coming back', if you know what I mean, the only stories you've told are the ones you read off a script. I wanna hear you tell everyone your story. K. Sipowicz - the untold tale. I mean, come on... what in the hell were you doing those seventeen years we all thought you were dead?"
Kyle shrugged. "Not much really," he replied truthfully.
"Well, anyway. You ready to come into the recording booth and go on air? Like I said, I've been anticipating this. I want a bit more of you in the media's eye! Nobody ever hears about you anymore! You're supposed to be a local urban legend. So come on. Let's go talk!"
"Um...okay..." Kyle mumbled. He looked at Marc and Madilane.
"What?" Madilane raised her hands.
"Well... what are you guys gonna do while I'm in the recording studio?"
"Oh, don't worry," said Robert. "They can come with me. Uh... I think I forgot to tell you this - I'm Jason's producer. So, they can hang out with me and listen to the show while you're on it. Would you guys like that?"
"Oh, man, we'd love that!" Marc exclaimed. "Cool!"
"Great!" Robert nodded. "Well, then, you guys come with me. Kyle, go with Jason. See you in a bit!" He bustled out of the room. Madilane and Marc soon followed; Madilane gave Kyle a hug before leaving.
"Love you, Dad," she whispered.
"I love you, too, sugar puff." Kyle grinned.
After Madilane, Marc and Robert had left, Jason and Kyle looked one another in the eyes.
"Was that your daughter?" Jason asked.
"Yeah." Kyle nodded.
"She's very beautiful."
"Uh... thanks," Kyle murmured. He thought for a minute, then queried Jason, "How old are you?"
"Me? I'm thirty-nine."
"Really?" Kyle was genuinely surprised by this answer. "Thirty-nine. Wow. You look heaps younger. Like twenty-nine."
"Yeah, thanks." Jason shrugged. "I try to take care of myself. Heh."
"What time is it?" Kyle asked.
"It's about... 7:50," replied Jason, looking at his watch. "Yeah. We better get into the recording studio,"
"Oh, okay. Where is it?"
Jason stepped over to the doorway and pointed to another door across the hall, one with a window in it. "Just there."
Kyle laughed, although the laughter was only superficial, and he still seemed awkward. "Oh, okay."
"Come on." Jason beckoned for Kyle to follow him, which he did. They entered the other door into a small space, then through a second windowed door into a tiny room with a large black control panel and dozens of different microphones, all hanging and sitting in assorted places. There was a window and door at the back of the room; Robert could be seen shuffling about behind the window. The floor of the studio was also black, made of some kind of linoleum with a few visible cords running beneath it. It was the only room Kyle had seen so far that was without carpet. There rested a large control panel on one side of the room; above it was another window with a view into the reception room Kyle, Marc, Madilane and Julia had stepped into a few moments prior.
"Take a seat." Jason gestured to the chair nearest the door, and Kyle sat in it. There were only two seats in the room; Jason took the other one, in front of the studio panel. "You've never been on radio before, have you Kyle?"
"Nope." Kyle shook his head.
"Well, don't worry. It's not that much different to television."
"Gotcha."
A door at the back of the room opened. Through it stepped a young woman with long, cinnamon-brown hair that fell to the centre of her back. She was small and thin, with caramel-coloured skin and bluey-green eyes. She was holding a set of documents.
"Jason?" The woman stepped into the studio as Jason swivelled around in his chair. "I... I got you those reports you wanted,"
"Oh, you're a champion!" Jason reached out and took the documents. "Thanks, honey. Did they end up costing?"
"No, I just down...downloaded them." The woman bit her lip and folded her small hands behind her back.
"Great. I was really looking forward to these. Thanks, Rebecca."
Rebecca smiled shyly and retreated out of the room. Kyle raised an eyebrow at the thoughts he had picked up from her.
Jason swivelled back around in his chair to face Kyle. "That's Rebecca Cook, the assistant producer here."
"I see." Kyle nodded.
"Okay." Jason put on a set of headphones. He handed a pair to Kyle. "Here, stick these on. Just monitor how you sound. You won't really have to, of course - I'll be the one monitoring your levels and adjusting them. Just so you know where you're at."
Kyle took the headphones and placed them over his ears. "Thanks." He gave Jason a smile.
Jason smiled back, then turned to the control panel and adjusted a few dials. He pressed and held a button on the control panel. "Rob, are we going on yet?"
A crackly voice came back through a speaker on the wall. "Yeah, man. There's still, like, five minutes yet, but... eh. It's not like time really is linear."
Jason laughed, and let go of the button. He glanced at Kyle, that customary grin on his face. "You ready?"
"Yeah..."
Robert's voice came through the intercom again. "Okay, Jay, you ready?"
"Ready,"
"You're on in three... two... one..."
Jason flipped a switch on the control panel and spoke into one of the microphones. "Hey, Jason DeLaVoe here on 103.5, Toxi FM. Today I've got Kyle Sipowicz here for you guys; if you wanna ask our urban legend-turned-actor a question, call us. The number's 0-333-19. He'll be sticking around most of the morning, so be sure to ring up. ...And later on I'll have Wendy back in, to discuss more movie tops and movie flops, and of course - don't forget - we're giving away a car later on! So stick around... Kyle Sipowicz coming up next. Here's Green Day. Toxi FM."
Jason turned off his mike and pressed another button on the control panel. As he pressed several other buttons on nearby panels, he asked Kyle, "So, how's life? Feel free to swear, you're not on the air."
Kyle laughed a tiny bit. "I've been okay, lately, I'd say. My daughter's getting married soon, so... I'll be looking forward to that."
"Oh, really? That's incredible! Be sure to congratulate her and whoever she's marrying, if I don't get the chance to first."
"Yeah, I'll do that..."
"Are you okay, man? You look kinda pale. Are you feeling all right?"
Kyle nodded weakly. "Yeah... I'm okay."
Jason frowned. "All right... but if you don't feel well, just say something, okay? I don't want anything going around. Heh, these microphones contract influenza viruses quicker than starving dogs."
Kyle nodded more strongly this time. "I'm fine."
"Cool. Okay..." Jason pointed to a button on the control panel. "See this? This is your mike. Like, the button for it, I mean. See how the green light's on?"
Kyle nodded.
"Good. Green is the safe light. Green means it's off; you can blab and bitch as much as you like. Now, you see this button? The one marked 'CD2?'"
Kyle nodded again.
"You'll see it's got a red light. Kay? It's what's on the air. Like traffic lights. I mean... I'm sure you've seen radio station sets before, in your acting career. You should identify that 'on air' lights are always red."
Kyle nodded a third time.
Jason smirked. "Quiet today, huh, Kyle? Better hope that evaporates soon. Oh, yeah, by the way - don't nod, or make gestures, or other hand movements to get your point across because a little known fact about radio is that our listeners won't see it. You're used to viewers. Don't make the same mistake every other loony I get in here does, heh."
Kyle nodded - probably an unwise response.
Jason pointed at him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! Anyway, this song is nearly over, so… get ready to talk."
"Yeah, okay," Kyle replied. "What were you gonna talk to me about?"
"Oh... you'll see..." Jason grinned. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to put that 'see' in there like that! Heh, sorry! Radio...radio, Jason! God, I can't communicate..."
Kyle laughed, a little more comfortable now.
"Okay, Kyle! Remember - keep your eye on the mike. Red light = bad, green light = good. I'll operate your mike, so don't worry about it. Most importantly, just relax and enjoy yourself!"
Kyle smiled. "I'll try,"
"Good." Jason gave him a double thumbs-up and pressed a button on the control panel; then he turned his mike back on.
"Good morning, everyone. You're listening to Jason DeLaVoe, here on Toxi FM, and we've got Kyle Sipowicz here. How are you today, Kyle?"
Kyle's mike-light flashed red, and he spoke into the mike. "I'm good, thanks for asking."
"Good to hear. Now, I suppose the question in everyone's mind at the moment would be... what's next for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I mean: when is Kyle Sipowicz coming back out into the public eye?"
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Phew, geez... I don't know. Most of my television series have ended—"
"Much to our great dismay," Jason interjected.
"—Yeah, and I've really just been trying to catch up with my family. I mean... in the seventeen years that I was hiding out in the underworld, I never got a chance to see my loved ones, you know? I mean... I didn't even know my daughter at all, and... yeah... now she's getting married."
"Tell me about that,"
"My daughter?"
"All of it. Your home-life, the seventeen years alone... the works."
"Okay..." Kyle exhaled deeply. "Well... as I'm sure a lot of people know, my daughter's an author - Madilane Sipowicz. We lately went for a round-the-world trip; her, her fiancé, her fiancé’s grandmother, my wife and I. So, since returning to the real world, I've definitely had a great chance to catch up on some other cultures with my loved ones. We were out of the country for a whole year - we saw twelve different countries - plus, with my work I've been to places like the US, Britain, Canada, Alaska... yeah."
"Wow, that sounds awesome. And, so... what about before that?"
"What do you mean?"
"The seventeen years in hiding. What happened then? Come on, Kyle. I don't think I even have to say that, even though you've promoted yourself a little bit through your work since coming back, you're still a total enigma. People see the characters you play, but nobody knows who you are. I mean, I'm sure that, what with airbrushing and make-up and stuff like that on television, nobody else would see this, but, sitting here with you now, I can see that you've got loads and loads of scars all over you. Especially on your right side. You look as if you've been mauled by a wild dog or something,"
"Well, you're not off the money, there..." Kyle grumbled, too low for Jason to hear.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Oh, well... I was just saying that, you know, they're... those scars... they're not really any different from tattoos. Just with better stories behind them!" Kyle laughed.
Jason joined the laughter. "Heh... so... what did cause them?"
"Various things..." Kyle replied, squinting.
"Yeah, well, another thing - I said that there were a lot of those scars on the right side - right near that metal bracelet you always wear. Always wear. I mean... even when you do movie roles and go on talk shows and stuff... you always wear that brace. What's the go? Everyone knows what I'm talking about, here. What's the deal? Does it have some sort of... symbolic presence or something?"
"Ummmm......" Kyle bit his lip.
"Okay, I'm gonna play some music, then we'll take some callers. You're on Toxi FM." Jason turned off the mikes and turned on the CD player again.
Robert's voice came through the speaker again. "Jason, what the hell are you doing? We've got about five hundred people on hold here who want to talk to Kyle! Why'd you switch to the CD?"
Jason pressed and held the little button on the control panel again. "Put 'em on hold, then!"
"They are on hold!"
"Good! Keep them that way!" Jason took his finger off the button and turned to Kyle. "Man, you need to spill some beans, here!"
"What are you talking about?"
"What am I talking about? That worried look on your face, maybe? That look you have as though you might well drop dead any second? Lucky you - none of our audience can see that. And your answers so far have been pretty intelligible. But you - you look as though you're on the dark side of the moon. You look like you're gonna faint. I don't know, I can't tell whether it's something physiological or something psychological. Either way, you look ill. And if I'm not much mistaken, I'd say it's the latter. You were looking bad the second I got you in here, but then... when we started talking about that brace, and everything... that's when your train just seemed to leave. What in the hell is that thing?" Jason pointed to the brace.
Kyle looked down at it, at all of the dark scars that were accumulated directly around the brace, from when a suicidal eighteen-year-old Kyle had tried to tear it out. He made no reply to Jason.
Jason held out his hands. "What is it?"
"It's... nothing." Kyle looked down.
Jason sighed. "Whatever you say, pal." He turned back to the control panel. "Great. This song's got about thirty more seconds on it. God, where does time go in this joint?" He pressed and held the button on the control panel again. "Rob, time is so linear. Who have we got on the phone?"
A crackly laugh came back through the wall intercom. "Line 1 is Cindy, Line 2 is Michelle. You can handle TWO callers for the time being, right, J-man?"
Jason rolled his eyes. "Man, I know you're being sarcastic, but, really, I am thinking about other crap now." He let go of the button, turned off the CD player, pressed the button for phone line one and turned on both his and Kyle's mikes again.
Wow, talk about juggling, Kyle thought.
"Yeah, hello, Cindy?"
"Hello?"
"Hi, you're on the air with Kyle and Jason. How are you?"
"I'm good, Jason! How are you?"
"I'm great. Got a question for Kyle, do you?"
"Yeah, I do,"
"Well, he's here." Jason gestured for Kyle to speak into his mike.
"Hello, Cindy!" Kyle greeted.
"Hi, Kyle, how are you?"
"I'm pretty good,"
"Oh, that's good. Yeah, I just wanted to ask you... I know that you were talking a bit about the silver bracelet before, and, yeah, I was just wondering if you were going to mention anything about it. I know that Jason's not the first to ask you about it, but he said... he said there were scars all around it?"
Kyle glanced at Jason, who was grinning. A little cruelly, it seemed. Kyle suddenly felt like a piece of meat under the grill.
"Uhh.... yeah," Kyle replied. "Um, well..."
"See, we've all been really curious, Kyle. You always wear it, but never talk of it. You know, in my house there's a bit of a conspiracy theory circulating."
Kyle laughed. "Oh, really? And what's that?"
"Well, you always wear it, as we've said, but you never talk of it. So, I think, contrary to what Jason suggested earlier, I don't think it could have any symbolic meaning to it, because if it did you'd probably want to talk about it. But you're always really hesitant whenever it's brought up, so, my family and I seem to think... that maybe it's there against your will."
Kyle's eyes widened a little bit. Jason bit his tongue to stop laughing.
"Well, Kyle, is she close?" Jason asked with a customary smirk. "Warm, even?"
Kyle inhaled and exhaled, then finally said, "Yeah.... You're definitely in the red, there, Cindy."
"Ohh, I knew it! It is something a little ominous, isn't it, Kyle? We all know that a lot of stuff must have happened in those seventeen years you were out of our sight!"
Kyle nodded. "Yeah... and beforehand..."
"Well, you should really tell us about it, Kyle. We all really love you!"
"Well, I love all of you, too!" Kyle grinned. "You're right - my audience is like my second family. I'll tell, don't worry."
"Well, we all can't wait to hear your story, Kyle. You know, you're still quite an urban legend. We love you."
"Ditto," said Kyle. "Love you all!"
Jason turned of his and Kyle's mikes, turned off phone line one, switched on phone line two, then switched Kyle's mike and his own on again; all in the space of half a second. "Hello, Michelle!"
"Hello?"
"You're with Kyle Sipowicz and Jason DeLaVoe on Toxi FM. How are you?"
"I'm really good, Jason, thanks for asking!"
"Cool. Got a question for Kyle?"
"Yeah, hi, Kyle. I was just wondering... you know how you say you were underground for seventeen years?"
"Yeah?" Kyle had a pretty good idea of where this question was leading - hundreds of talk-show hosts had asked him the same thing.
"Well, I was just interested to know... where that was, exactly?"
Kyle took a breath. "Well..." he began, "it wasn't anywhere specific. Nowhere fixed. I was kind of going from place to place a bit, you know? Changing my identity a bit every now and then. It was tough, but obviously do-able."
Kyle could never stand lying to anyone about anything - therefore he always managed to dodge the supernatural-sounding (yet true) answer by giving a much vaguer, philosophical response.
"So, you were kind of right under our noses, the whole time?"
Kyle laughed. "Yeah, that's exactly it!"
"Wow... I can't believe it... did you ever hear about yourself, face to face? Did anyone ever end up talking to you about you... er... if you know what I mean?"
Kyle chuckled again and shook his head. "No, I can't say anyone did. In fact, barely anybody at all spoke to me. Like I've said - it was a lonely, lonely life."
"Why did you do it, though?" Michelle asked. "If it was so hard... why didn't you just come back? I mean, I know that everyone thought you were a serial killer, but, as most people realised, there was never any solid proof of that. You had a strong chance of being proven innocent. And then the case for you was solved in '86. If you were right under our noses, like you said, then surely you would have known about that."
Kyle nodded. "Yeah, I did. But... I guess... psychologically I just wasn't ready. After all... there was a lot of other stuff involved."
"As we've guessed," Jason muttered. "But anyway, Michelle, thanks for your call."
"Thank you so much. I love you guys!"
Jason grinned. "God, I love it when they say that...."
Whether or not he meant for the statement to go to air was unclear, but, either way, it did. "Yeah... well, I'm gonna play a little bit of music in a second... then we'll take some more calls. Also, there are some good books out there for anyone interested in the Kyle Sipowicz conspiracy phenomenon. Try reading A Night On The Darkside by Tracy San Pas. Got some fantastic theories about vampires and gargoyles and stuff. Ha, ha, ha.... Taking more calls in a moment. You're with Jason DeLaVoe and Kyle Sipowicz, here on 103.5, Toxi FM." He turned off the mikes and turned on the CD player again. Turning to Kyle, he said, "You’re not exactly open on the topic, are you, O urban legend?"
"Huh?"
"You must have been through something awful," Jason continued. "Especially if you have such difficulty talking about it - and such scars - so many years later. Tough stuff."
Kyle nodded. "Mmm..."
"I suppose you get a lot of solace talking with hosts about other things, like your upcoming movies, right?"
Kyle continued nodding. "Mm hmm... that's very true."
"Well, I wish you'd blab out something," Jason laughed, shaking his head. "I mean... if you did... then, seriously, I'd split the profits of today's show with you and we could both buy out an island down in the South Pacific."
Kyle laughed.
Throughout the rest of the morning Kyle took calls with Jason - most of them were quite similar to those of Michelle and Cindy - curious conspiracy buffs who wanted an inside scoop on the geographical location of Kyle's supposed 'underworld', or some information on the intriguing brace. However, somewhere towards the end of Kyle's stint on the show, one woman phoned in with a topic that totally disregarded Kyle - that being abuse for Jason.
Prior to the event, while Jason was running a set of commercials ("don't worry, Kyle; these ads run for about fifteen minutes. Finally we can chill out a bit!"), Robert's rich voice once again crackled through the intercom.
"Hey, Jason, buddy? I'm, uh, I'm afraid I've got some bad news, pal."
"Oh, no, what now?" Jason stared at the ceiling, as if to blame the heavens for the workload.
"I'm afraid Olivia has just phoned in,"
"Oh, Jesus Christ!" Jason cried, still staring at the ceiling.
"Um... who?" Kyle inquired.
"Oh, boy..." Jason looked over to him out of the corners of his brown eyes. "This lady... ugh... Olivia. She calls once or twice a week... she just totally hates this station. One of those sad sacks who just wants to pick a fight. I think every radio station gets at least one. She just calls with slander and reprisals on a regular basis... Sometimes we run her to air - loonies can be pretty funny given the chance." He laughed. "Sometimes we don't, though. There are only so many times Rob can bleep me in a single sentence." He chuckled again.
"So, what's happening, Jay? Air Olivia today, or not?"
"Go ahead," Jason muttered in reply. "Poor Kyle probably needs a break from all of these Roswell-X-Files-Area-51 weirdoes who just wanna ask him about his anal probe."
Kyle laughed. "Thanks,"
"No worries," Jason muttered. He was certainly not looking forward to having to answer Olivia's call.
"Jason, I admire you for your strength," Robert joked. "She's on Line 1."
"As usual." Jason stared at the ceiling again. His eyes away from the control panel, he turned off the CD player, answered the phone line, and turned on his mike in a quick action. "Hello, Olivia?"
"Hello?"
"Hello? Is this my weekly fan favourite?"
"Oh, you wish!"
"...Yeah, that's right... I wish...... Anyway, what have you called up about this time, Ollie? Got another long list of personal faults to read out to me and my listeners? And Kyle Sipowicz?"
"Yes I do!"
"Thought so..." Jason groaned, still looking towards the roof.
"First of all, what's all this I hear about you giving away a car?"
"It's all in the spirit of giving." Jason rolled his eyes. "A present for my loyal listeners."
"As if anyone who listens to you would be worthy of a car!"
"You listen to me,"
"Reluctantly!"
"Then what do you do it for?" Jason exclaimed.
"Because somebody needs to put you in your place! Every day I hear you on the radio, slandering people who are better than you! You only do it because you know that you're not worth anything yourself! You're pathetic! You're fat and ugly—"
Jason laughed genuinely. "I know! Why do you think I'm doing radio?"
"Because you can't make anything of yourself! And you spend all of that money you earn on a car to give away like that. That money could go to help others!"
"Others? Like who? Crazy nutters who call radio stations and abuse the DJs? Oh, sorry - the fat, ugly DJs?" Jason laughed.
"Why don't you get a job?"
"I have a job,"
"I mean a decent job! You could be doing something so much better with your time! You could be out there helping people who need it—"
"That's right, I could, but - I'm sorry - that's just not my job! Somebody has to host the radio shows of the world! I could be out there in the soup kitchens and missionary camps, but that's just not my job!"
On an impulse, Kyle suddenly grabbed a hold of his mike and pressed the button that turned it on. "That's right," he screamed into the mike. "It's not his job! It's not! His job is to make insomniac writers like my daughter laugh of a morning after a long night's tapping away at a laptop! What in the hell could be more helpful than that; making the most beautiful woman in the world - through my eyes, at least - happy when she needs it? And who are you to say that there aren't a billion other insomniac writers, businessmen and civil servants out there who need a bit of comedy in their morning? Toxi FM is a form of entertainment, not a charity! Its job is to give people entertainment and laughter! So it's pretty damn obvious why you don't like it! You know what I think? I think that you're just a cynical old—" At this point Kyle was bleeped. "—who couldn't get a root! And now you just wanna make everyone else around you miserable because it'll make you feel better by comparison! That's what people like you do to get your—" Kyle was bleeped again.
There was silence on the other end of the line. Jason was staring at Kyle, looking a little bit scared.
Kyle's ring-fingers were shaking. He exhaled.
"Yeah..." Jason murmured into his mike. "Exactly. Okay, Wendy coming up after this next ad break. More music right now. This is Jason DeLaVoe, with Kyle Sipowicz, here on Toxi FM." He turned off the two mikes, disconnected the phone line, and turned on the CD player.
"Sorry about that," Kyle sighed.
"No, no." Jason held up his hands. "Don't be. I appreciate it. It gets really hard to control some of those callers. But, really - what'd you do it for? It was fantastic!"
"I..." Kyle sighed again. "I just felt a... a strong wave of empathy for you, then." He put his face in his hands.
"Well... like I said... I appreciate it," said Jason.
Kyle moaned a little.
Jason laughed. "Heh, you know, we still might get those islands in the South Pacific!"
Kyle looked up, a little morosely.
Jason scrutinised him for a moment. "Is something up today, mate? I've never seen you like this on any other talk shows. You're always loaded with pep, and full of jokes, quips, comeback, one-liners.... Today you look like death warmed up. Surely everything I've seen on Midnight Tonight can't just be Vaseline on the lens?"
Kyle smiled faintly. "I don't know... just... I don't know."
"Headache?" Jason asked. "Could be the towers. All of the broadcasting equipment in here gives me the worst headaches. I get 'em 24/7. Heh, it's worth it, though. I love radio."
"I thought you did TV, as well, though." Kyle frowned up at Jason from his sunken position in his hands.
"I do," replied Jason. "Heh. Reality TV hosting, mostly. You really don't need talent to do that, believe me. Now radio hosting - you need to be able to multi-task, I'll tell you that now."
"As I noticed," Kyle agreed. "But... how come you don't go into more TV? I mean, contrary to what you were saying to Olivia before, you've obviously got looks—" Kyle coughed after he said this. "—Or, at least, my daughter said she thinks you're cute. So, why not go further into TV?"
"Duh - I like radio. Heh, radio is such a cushy job! Once you wrap your mind around the multi-tasking, that is. Why do you ask? Would you like me to be on your scene a bit more, Kyle?" Jason grinned at Kyle.
"Oh, as if!" Kyle scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"What? What's the matter? Not a fan of me insulting your dead acting career, eh?"
"Whatever!" Kyle spat.
"Hey, I'm not saying anything." Jason held up his hands once more. "Just so you know, you're not that bad... I mean, okay, so... you were once a superstar. Now you're kinda like a supernova. Look on the bright side - you may be a dying star, but you're not dead yet. Wait until the spin-offs start before you think of yourself as that!"
Kyle leered at Jason. "You're just jealous," he grumbled.
"Oh, right, I'm jealous." Jason laughed. "Right, I gotcha."
Kyle's leer narrowed.
"Nice comeback." Jason smirked.
Kyle rolled his eyes. "Sophomoric," he muttered.
"What did you call me?"
"You heard me!"
"Yeah, good point, I did. What is it with you today? I can't get it. Like I said, on TV you act as though you've had one too many morning coffees, and maybe a little bit of LSD. Why am I such a lapse in your up-sided interviews? Did you really think that radio was that different to TV?"
Kyle rolled his eyes, but had nothing to say. Truth be told, he hardly knew himself why he felt so irritable.
"Talk, for crying out loud!" Jason implored. "I can't understand it! Are you really sure you aren't coming down with Type 2 diabetes?"
Kyle sat up straighter. "Hey, if either of us was coming down with Type 2, it'd be you!" He pointed a finger sharply at Jason.
"Oh, you'd say that to anyone in this position, no matter how much they weighed."
"Maybe!" Kyle retorted. He opened his mouth to continue his defence, but it seemed he was now out of responses.
"Man, you're really not the charismatic Kyle Sipowicz I thought you would be," said Jason disappointedly. "Here's what I'm gonna do - I'm gonna contact you again, OK? Later on in the week. I'm gonna see how you're feeling then. I'm concerned about you, here. Maybe you should see a doctor; you don't look well."
"Why should I listen to you!" Kyle spat.
"Well, at any rate, Wendy's here. You better skedaddle before we start insulting your movies again,"
Kyle stood up out of his chair, and continued to glare as he moved out of the room.
"Nice meeting you, Kyle!" Jason followed Kyle to the door as he left the room. "Take care of yourself, buddy," he said seriously as he closed the door gently behind Kyle.
Kyle emerged in the hallway, where solely he leant against the wall next to the studio door. Marc and Madilane soon rounded the corner and came to meet him.
"Hey, hey!" Marc bounced over to Kyle, clapping his hands together. "Top stuff, mate! For your first time on radio, I'd think that that was pretty good. Oh, especially that caller abuse at the end, that was gold!"
Kyle, with his head back against the wall, groaned. "Eh... it got a bit... prickly at the end there with Jason. Geez... he and I don't really seem to mix."
"What are you talking about?" Marc queried. "I thought you guys had a great camaraderie goin' there,"
Kyle shook his head. "He was a bit of a showman on air. Very... courteous. Off air, though... I don't know. Like I said. We didn't mix."
Madilane frowned. "You've been acting weird ever since you found out about Jason DeLaVoe,"
"Yeah," agreed Marc, also scrutinising Kyle.
Kyle shrugged. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "Ohh, why does he have to be such a jerk to me? If only he knew what a hard life I've had... I mean, come on... when you have such a life... every other thing just seems to strike you like the Viking whip on a lowly deckhand's already bruised and bleeding back...."
Madilane and Marc looked on sympathetically as Kyle shut his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights of Toxi FM studios. However, little did Kyle know, those thoughts and feelings were not his own.
----------------------------- -----------------------
Earth: It's a tough neighbourhood.
Amnesiac
I am an amnesiac. I cannot remember most events prior to my sixteenth birthday. I remember them vaguely – imagine a comic book without outlines. The characters would be poorly defined and blurry, wouldn’t they? A comic book with no speech or thought bubbles. A comic book with no hint of plot. A comic book with no name or known author. Sure, there are pictures, but what are those images in front of you? They mean nothing. They are mere smudges on a blank page. They have no coherence to you whatsoever
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