9. The Journal #2
Mrs. Fray sighed deeply. “Noec’s story was…
similar,” she admitted. Her and her husband’s confusion began to melt into fear as though the truth of it were sinking in.
“And I, for one, am grateful that you have a friend there looking after you.” Mr. Fray met her eyes, but he sighed and creased his brow as though he wasn’t quite convinced.
“Question.” Davy raised his hand. Noec made the mistake of making eye contact, so Davy took it as an invitation to continue, “What does ‘never enough ass’ mean in your culture? Flora likes to say that and, while it is true, it usually makes no sense in the context she uses it.”
Noec’s eyes darted stiffly between Flora and him as though he thought this might be a trick question. After a moment, he asked tentatively, “Does he mean… ‘glass’?”
“Yes, and he knows that,” Flora said sharply. “Because I’m broke, and because the currency of the Asilian realm is Asilian glass, I have sometimes been known to say ‘never enough glass’.”
Davy glanced at Noec, then back at Flora. He raised a brow and noted, “Looks like you get plenty of that.”
“GLASS, DAVY.”
Mr. Fray sighed loudly. “Yours is quite the story, young lady,” he said.
“One I wouldn’t dream of believing if it weren’t for…
” he trailed off after glancing at Noec.
“Well, I don’t think Lila would’ve lied to us.
Davy, maybe.” He shared a knowing look with his wife, then kneaded his forehead.
“I guess we’ll just have to take your word for now, and check ourselves into a mental institution later. ”
“That’s the spirit,” Davy beamed, eagerly swiping Flora’s garlic bread and devouring it in one motion.
A loud noise suddenly brought everyone’s attention back to Noec. He had slammed his knuckle into the edge of the table while reaching for his fork. Red-faced, Noec didn’t dare look up. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, slowly wringing his hand.
“... ouch,” he muttered, but Flora could hear at least a dozen curse words in the strain of his voice.
This time, even Mr. Fray couldn’t help but burst into laughter. He shook his head and picked his fork back up. He twirled his spaghetti, and dinner resumed.
The table gradually eased into the casual nonsense that often marked the Fray household.
Watching Noec was like watching an alien struggle to act human.
Spaghetti, apparently, was an unanticipated challenge.
Much to Davy’s enjoyment, Noec poked at the worm-like noodles, then either failed to get any to stay on his fork or twirled a ball of noodles so big that it would hardly fit in his mouth.
Visibly frustrated, he fought the impulse to grab the worm-ghetti with his bare hands.
Though, Flora noticed, there was this subtle grin on his lips whenever his trials brought Flora’s family to laughter.
Mr. and Mrs. Fray had more questions, but at least Flora no longer had to lie about the answers.
Noec had apparently been grilled throughout the day, hence his flinching at the sound of Mr. Fray’s voice.
And while Flora’s parents still watched her with mindful trepidation, at least their tension was no longer aimed at someone who didn’t deserve it.
Noec was across the table, now smiling and laughing at Davy like today had been a perfect day.
She was proud of him, truly. But still, there was this dreadful nausea that Flora couldn’t seem to shake.
She looked down at her plate, nearly full, and thought she couldn’t take another bite.
Noec had handled every awful thing so far, and he was somehow still smiling.
But how would he handle what she’d found on page 258?
“My question is, when do we get to see this place?” Flora’s mother asked, dabbing her lip with a napkin. “And why don’t you ever fall asleep with a camera and bring back some pictures?”
That, as Flora had found out, was a recipe for dropping a phone into a spring.
“Noec doesn’t like when I take pictures. He doesn’t understand the ‘magic bricks’, as he calls them.” Flora smirked and continued, “Unless, of course, it’s Dad’s old blue MP3 player.”
Flora’s father chuckled. “So, that’s where it ended up,” he said. “Noec, our gadgets are no magic.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, tilting it back and forth in the air. “Just what happens as time runs its course.” He leaned in closer to Noec.
“Technology?” Noec asked.
“Unbridled consumerism,” Mr. Fray replied. “With a side of late-stage capitalism.” He paused. “But yeah—technology, too.”
Noec was wide-eyed in awe as Mr. Fray toyed with his magic brick, and his face lit up when Mr. Fray opened his music app to an album cover he had seen before.
“John Denver,” Noec said excitedly as the music began to play, much crisper than he had ever heard it. Flora couldn’t help but smile as Noec whistled and Mr. Fray sang off-tune to “Country Roads”.
Davy politely covered his ears and groaned. “Never enough ass,” he whispered to his sister.
After dinner, Mr. Fray put on a movie, and Davy kicked his feet up on the ottoman with a barrel of cheesy puffs.
Noec gaped at the pictures dancing across the screen.
Like a dog seeing its reflection for the first time, he slowly began to creep toward the television.
Davy held his breath, trying not to die laughing as Noec, wide-eyed and fascinated, reached out and poked the buzzing surface.
Noec stood in awe for a moment, blinked, then paced apprehensively back toward the couch as Mr. Fray smothered a chuckle with his hand.
“I don’t know how much more I can take,” Noec said, seemingly dazed.
“Like an Amish kid in Times Square,” Davy wheezed through tears.
Either Noec was a golden retriever trapped in a human body, or he’d figured out exactly how to appease the Fray family. Flora watched him as he settled back at her side, the slightest grin on his lips as he met her eyes. He was wildly out of context, but still, having him here felt so right.