Good Times With History

During the summer - well, Lucille supposed it applied to any season - the heat usually reached its peak around noontime. This day in the city was no different - Lucille and certainly Regina felt baked (heh) when they went inside that Chinese restaurant. The sun continued to flex its muscles for a few more hours after that, slowly broiling Lucille and Regina as they trudged out of Chinatown. Well, Lucille trudged along because she was in a pissy mood; Regina trudged along because she was out of breath.

But she felt optimistic, at least. “What’s…Jesus Christ…what’s next on the list, captain?” Regina asked.

Lucille kept her eyes on the asphalt below her feet. “Nothing. Let’s go home.”

“Go home?” Regina questioned. “You made it sound like we’d be LARPing or whatever in Japan all day. The sun won’t set for another few hours, and more importantly, I bought an all-day parking pass at the train station. So let’s stay all day.”

The sun continued to pummel Lucille’s face. She wiped her forehead and rubbed her temples. “What’s the point? American high schools aren’t like Japanese high schools, American subways aren’t like Japanese subways, and American cities aren’t like Japanese cities. Playing pretend isn’t fun. And reality isn't particularly fun, either - it seems like every time something good happens, a bad thing strolls along immediately afterwards and knees me square in the nutsack.”

“...that’s one way to put it,” Regina supposed. “Can you at least let me know what’s next on the list, then?”

Lucille wanted to ignore her and focus on walking back to the nearest train station, but the duo came across an intersection filled with heavy traffic. Unfortunately, it was a major intersection, one too busy (at the moment) to jaywalk across, so Lucille tapped her foot impatiently while staring down the crosswalk light on the other side of the street. Waiting for the little red hand to change to the white figure of a walking person felt like it took forever, so Lucille sighed and spoke.

“Next up would be Good Times With History,” she said glumly. “But what’s so fun about history anymore? Everybody from history turned out to be a bad dude.”

“That gives me a great idea.”

When Lucille reluctantly looked back at her, Regina rubbed her chin in thought, evidently trying to recall a memory from long-ago. Then she closed her eyes; Lucille took a step back as sadness radiated from Regina’s small smile. “My dad used to take me around the city when I was a kid. Those were the days. I have a vague memory of a summer’s end when he took me to see a statue. And it was a cool ass statue, Lucille. It wasn’t like one of those naked Italian ones either; this was a properly dressed American statue.”

Regina opened her eyes, yet the sadness still remained. “That’ll be our Good Time(s) With History. Let’s go look at that statue.”

The cars in the intersection finally stopped; the crosswalk light changed. Lucille glanced back, the sudden parting of the Red Sea in vehicular form beckoning for her to walk across it. She could even see the train station from here. Just like that, she would be home, done with this Japan nonsense. But this was a side to Regina that seldom appeared. She rarely mentioned her father, not since the Meatgrinder Incident of ‘19 shortly after their high school graduation.

And that’s when Lucille realized something. She was the only one who truly wanted to go on this trip today. She wanted to go to play-pretend in a Japanese mirage, but Regina went because it was something to do with her best friend. And here Lucille was, ignoring Regina’s feelings in favor of her own.

The gears within her mind turned and turned as realizations flooded through her. These past four years, Lucille had been using the Holy Land image of Japan as a crux to fill the gaping hole in her own life. Back in the Chinese restaurant, once that Holy Land image crumbled and faded away, Lucille threatened to fall into the hole entirely, but a last-second rope now appeared to save her. The idealistic version of Japan was just a mirage, but her friendship with Regina was entirely real. Friendship, human connection - even as the Four Horsemen reared their ugly heads, Lucille decided right then and there to embrace the milk of human kindness as her nectar. Her long friendship with Regina - that would fill the hole in her heart.

Lucille understood now. She placed a calming hand on Regina’s shoulder. “Let’s go find that statue,” she said, her voice truly at peace. “For your father.”

Behind her, the crosswalk changed back to the red hand. The cars rolled across the intersection once again. But Lucille and Regina, walking side-by-side, headed in the opposite direction, completely content.

...

Thirty seconds later.

“Wait…” Regina said. “Why for my father?”

Lucille knew this would be a delicate situation. Anxiety raced through her heart; putting words to paper felt easy, but the spoken word was another matter entirely. “Well…he’s the one who showed you this statue, right? You said he used to take you around this city. And…considering the Incident was all the way back in 2019…it’s been a long time since you’ve last seen it. So, let’s do it for him.”

Regina raised an eyebrow. “Huh? He showed me this statue last summer.”

The gears within Lucille’s mind immediately started creaking and groaning. “But…you said it was a vague memory of a summer’s end.”

“Yeah, like I said, it was last summer. That’s a summer, isn’t it? And that’s all the way back ten months ago, how am I supposed to remember it clearly-”

“How much of a fucking stoner are you!” Lucille gripped both of Regina’s shoulders and shook her senselessly. When she realized she had stepped in a pile of discarded newspapers overflowing from a nearby trashcan onto the sidewalk, Lucille came to her senses, but the tight grip on her friend’s shoulders remained.

Regina raised her hands defensively. “Hey, hey, it’s alright.”

The nonchalant words made Lucille drop her hands. “Your father…I thought he got seriously hurt in the Meatgrinder Incident…that’s why you never talk about him with me…”

Cars passed by them on the street while birds flew overhead. Regina just shrugged. “Well, I mean, how often do you talk about your dad with me? I'm always over your place, too, so it's not like you'd see my dad that often anyway. The Meatgrinder Incident didn’t have anything to do with it.”

Lucille stepped away from the trash, narrowly avoiding a batch of used needles. “So…your dad isn’t hurt? I thought the Incident was pretty big. You told me it wiped out the whole factory floor.”

“Yeah, it was a tough night,” Regina admitted. “The Meatgrinder exploded in the middle of the night, but nobody was hurt. My dad had to come in and work overtime though, to help clean up the mess and all…he ran that factory, you see. But, you know, there were silver linings and all. The company owns a dozen more factories, but for this one, they decided to use his ideas to rebuild one that’s way more efficient. His factory became the best one in the company, and he got a big bonus so I got lots of cool Christmas gifts that year. But the best part about that the Incident was that it made him ponder his own mortality. You see, he realized he needed to be around my mother and I more, so he dropped down to part-time. That’s why he has the time to take me around the city.”

“But…” Lucille felt the gears in her mind melting down entirely as Regina finished her spiel. “But you said he used to take you around the city.”

“Yeah, he used to. He still does, but he used to, too.”

“Then why…why did you look so sad when explaining it?”

“My dad had a wicked awesome beard last summer,” Regina explained, sorrow returning to her voice. “My mom made him shave it off. I curse that woman sometimes.”

Lucille violently gripped Regina’s shoulders again. “You curse that woman? The woman you get to spend time with and actually enjoy it? My mother told me getting an English degree would be the worst mistake in my life, and guess what, it was! And you think you can curse your mom?”

Regina raised her hands again, but she still spoke nonchalantly. “Well, I mean…I’m sorry to hear that…but Lucille, I wish you saw this beard.”

The sheer stupidity in her words made Lucille realize they weren’t so stupid after all. She separated herself from Regina again and wiped her face. “Sorry,” she finally said. “I’m just in a bad mood. You did something special for me, so I thought I was doing something special for you. But it turns out you got a pretty good life and my life seems to consistently suck so I took it out on you.”

Regina tilted her head. “Something special for me?”

The city bustled all around them. Lucille motioned toward the passing cars with her hands. “You came here today with me. I wanted to go to the city to pretend it’s the land of make-believe, but you wanted to go because I’m your friend.”

“...and?”

“...huh?”

“You said I did something special,” Regina answered plainly. “But I didn’t do anything special. I wanted to hang out with you, so I did. You wanted to do something with me, so I went. We’re best friends, so that’s how it ought to be. If anybody did anything special today, it’s you. You got me to spend a day doing something besides eating cereal and watching television.”

Lucille looked away, twiddling her thumbs in small motions, a light red tinge to her face. “...that’s not special or anything.”

“I’m not letting this day end in defeat,” Regina proclaimed. “Let’s go find the statue.”

She stretched her hand out. Lucille took it, and it was soft to the touch.

…

Thirty minutes later.

“Okay…” Regina admitted. “I have no idea where this goddamn statue is.” She tried finding it using the compass in her heart, but that wasn’t a real thing, resulting in them going around in circles. There was no guarantee that the statue was on this side of the city, anyway. A look through Lucille’s phone proved fruitless as well; Regina couldn’t remember the name of the statue.

“But I can,” Regina protested. “Please, let’s just stop and burn for a second. Let me get high, I know I can remember if I get high.”

They did happen to be right next to an alleyway. After a moment, Lucille relented. “Alright. I’m all set, but go knock yourself out.”

Regina immediately scurried in the alleyway. She pulled the lighter and doob tube out of her pants’ pockets with eager hands. A wide smile crept across her face as the pre-roll fell into her hand. With deft fingers, she placed the pre-roll in her mouth and then sparked up.

The moment she did, whimsical sounding jazz music drifted out of the alleyway. Lucille whipped her head around in shock; she couldn’t find a source to the music. As Regina took her first drag, the tiny embers on the pre-roll suddenly blazed white hot, dousing the entire alleyway in bright light. Lucille had to shield her eyes for a moment; when she adjusted, she found Regina levitating into the air.

The jazz music picked up in intensity. Regina spun around once, twice, thrice, the lights pulsating around her. With each spin, a layer of clothing disappeared until she was all the way down to nothing. But with each clap of the beat, new clothing returned: a silk robe, fingerless gloves, a jewel necklace hanging from her neck. The pre-roll elongated in Regina’s hand until it became a mystical staff.

Right as the music reached its climax, Regina pointed the staff towards the fourth wall. Lucille watched with a dour look as Regina finished her magical girl transformation, powered by sour diesel. She settled back onto the ground with light feet, but then started coughing violently.

The mirage ended. Regina was back in her usual sweatshirt and sweatpants, hacking up a lung from taking too large of a hit. Her eyes now thoroughly red, she took one last drag then tossed away the remnants of the pre-roll.

She closed her eyes in satisfaction. “Hey,” she said, then had to stop talking because she got a case of the giggles. After wiping her mouth, she finally managed to speak again. “You wanna get Taco Bell?”

Lucille scratched her head. “Did you remember the name of the statue?”

“...the what?”

They never ended up finding it.