FFF36 - Queer and Curious
Not sure if it's been 24 hours but this seemed cool so I thought I'd try my hand! Flash fiction story under 1000 words (I think) with the theme of oddballs in town! @flashfictionfridayofficial
The Man with the Weird Bike
Seemed the whole town was out tonight. Not that I was surprised. But it was a little difficult carrying the boxes between the gawping onlookers. We only had one night to move out. They had plenty of others to go stargazing.
I huffed, throwing my box down on the sea wall just to stretch out my fingers.
‘You think it’s a space ship?’
Francis came up beside me, resting his shoulder on mine. I tutted, ripping it out from underneath so he’d stumble. Teach him for using me as a human lamp post.
‘Don’t know, don’t care.’
The truth was I could care. There was a floating cube in the sky for goodness sake. Glowing blue and bobbing ever so slightly like the boats in the harbour below. I found myself wanting to look more and more with each time we passed. Any other day and I would have been gawping along with the others, camera in hand, notebook at the ready.
The problem was, we were being kicked out. Apparently rents had to paid on time. How the hell was I supposed to know that!? Mum was always in charge. That was until she ditched us for the man with the weird bike.
It was a penny-farthing. In the 21st century. Those were a bad idea in the 19th but the 21st? What was he thinking!? And that’s not even mentioning his thing with the moths. (They swarmed him like a lamp. Every night. One time he spilt caramel down his shirt and when my mother came home from dinner I glimpsed the patch of still twitching wings stuck there. And just before the door shut I swore I saw him take a finger through them and lick.)
I shuddered. Francis made a sighing noise, running to catch up. He acted like he was the short one. And the younger. Hang on a second, how heavy even was his box?
‘Can’t we watch for a little bit?’
‘No. Do you know how much stuff you have?’
‘It’s not that much.’
I stopped, cutting him short. ‘Thirteen boxes.’
‘And? Two at a time, it’s only another uhh...’
He shifted, trying to get the box onto his hip so he could count on his fingers.
‘Two at a time!? You collect rocks for a living and you expect me to carry them two at a time?’
‘Some of them are calcites...’
Francis made a noise but I ignored him powering through the crowd. There were TV cameras ahead, reporters sitting on the curb side, eyes shining with the reflection of the cube. I tutted, barely bothering to duck as I passed through. If their van hadn’t been blocking the road maybe some of us could drive and not have to deal with carrying heavy boxes through a growing simmering crowd.
There was a gasp. Despite myself, I looked up. I’m not sure what I had expected. Did I think the cube would have opened? Spun a little? Did a little jig in the sky before blasting into space? Well none of that had happened. In fact, the cube looked no different than it had five minutes before. I was really beginning to rather despise this town.
I turned around, but the directive wasn’t aimed at me. Francis stopped, blinking dumbly at a reporter who’s fascinated attention was no longer on the sky. The way he was staring irked me and the fact Francis was only staring back irked me further.
‘What do you want?’ I called, gesturing to the boxes and making the exasperated noise mother used to make before she ran away with the man and his weird bike. (The one with the moths.) ‘We’re kind of busy if you don’t mind.’
The reporter took off his hat, shaking his head and not taking his eyes off Francis for a second. His hand hovered in the air as if he wanted to touch him like a painting in the museum.
‘I don’t mean to keep you.’ He breathed, hand floating around Francis’s cheek. ‘But I couldn’t help notice, you make no image on the camera.’
Francis eyes widened a second.
‘I have to go!’ He stumbled out, lifting the box to his chest. ‘My sister is waiting!’
And then he made like a bullet towards me, so fast I almost forgot to follow.
‘What was that about?’ I panted, struggling to keep up between my shorter legs and heavier box.
‘Nothing!’ Francis squeaked. There was absolutely something.
‘Didn’t he say your image didn’t appear?’
‘Weird huh? Cameras, eh? Maybe it was to do with the cube?’
I looked up at the cube, hovering innocently in the sky. Then I looked at my brother, marching head down through the bustling street.
It wasn’t the cube. I felt that firmly in the pit of my stomach. Now I just had to find a picture of my brother. To prove the reporter was the strange one and not the boy I’d known my whole life. But that feeling was a little more shaky.
Still, I ran to catch up. At least Francis wasn’t the man with the weird bike.
