Hey, sorry, I must have missed something back there, because I don't seem to recall telling you I'd be free from [dear god, he has to check the email again--] August 17 to August 31? That's a full two weeks if I'm reading this right??
Whether I'm free or not is rather besides the point, don't you think? You just went on ahead and set me up with a plane ticket to [dear god--] Greece of all things [as in that Greece, as in the one on the other side of the fucking world--] and you didn't think I'd want to know what's up with that first?
[Zenos cants his his head at his phone, a little like a plover. This is an awfully boring reaction from Cain Hitlein. That he recalls how Cain can glitter, so different from this farce of dull, tarnished brass, is all that keeps him from tossing aside his phone and wandering out into the sea.]
If you don't wish to go, you will tell me. And if you wish to go, you shall come along. You have yet to board the jet. Don't you have time to think about it, then?
I never said I didn't want to go. That's not what I'm trying to say. [Talking to this man has an unfortunate way of reminding him what it's like to talk to a seagull--it's nonsensical, and it's frustrating. The damn thing is still going to snap the food out of his hands.]
What I'm trying to say is there's nothing here that says why I'm going there and what I'll be doing there for that matter. I like to know a little bit about what to expect before I get myself into too much trouble!
[Oh, is that all? Cain isn't perfect, but to be silly isn't so grievous a slight, at least.]
I'm expected to be there for something or other. There will be dinners. Dancing. The rubbing of elbows. The eyeing of her twinkling bracelet or his gleaming cufflinks. That sort of thing.
It occurred to me that I would enjoy your company. The beaches of Corfu can be so quiet.
You have the strangest way of explaining your thinking only after the fact. You could have led with the dances and the cufflinks, and I would have duly followed after. I imagine there's going to be some half-decent food to eat too. And the drinks! I'm still thinking about that champagne we had. My mouth is still tingling.
[By all rights, that should be a romantic sort of admission, and Zenos' admission along with it. But every time, it's just...]
If you're feeling lonely, then you need only say as much. That's what friends are supposed to be for.
[That's what they're for. That's what friends are for: to keep some things at bay, and to usher in others. That's what Cain Hitlein is for, by his own word.]
Drink with me again. I have never paid attention to the feeling of the drink in my mouth. This time, I shall.
It's more than the feeling. It's the flavor, too. The scent, before you sip. Knowing of its expense, and knowing you're going to be sharing in it. You ought to pay attention to all the smallest details while they're still there to be paid attention to. That's the only way you can revisit them later...
I get the sense you're not all that fond of making memories, but let's make some together. We'll drink. I mean, we could have our fill of drinks on the flight over. It's not as though we're expected to fly the damn thing.
You will teach me. I shall observe your own attentions. I shall watch. You'll show me what it is when you drink, this - "more than the feeling", these memories in the making, and what you wish to do with them.
I never said I wouldn't be coming. I may or may not be a mite offended that you imagined my unwillingness to accompany you halfway round the world to the beaches of Corfu. As if I'd turn down the opportunity of a lifetime. I've never been there, after all.
I'd like to hear more about these quiet beaches of yours while I see to packing my luggage.
You may bring what you would like, although my intent was to give you everything.
During Corfu's summers, the ocean is at rest. It would be most desirable to visit again in the winter, when the waves are more dynamic. The sea in winter will force a man to labor. Not so, upon our visit. Just warm while it lazes across the sand.
I'm going to be bringing home more souvenirs than I can count...
[Everything. That's a dangerous word, and Zenos seems unaware of that fact.]
Let it be known I'm not adverse to visiting in wintertime. For all the things you want to see with me, I have just as many I want to see with you. For now we'll have to settle for warm and indolent waters, and we'll have to focus our efforts elsewhere when the time comes. I imagine there are all sorts of trails and terrain we could get ourselves lost in. Coves and caverns you would have me espy. Treacherous things to climb around on. Deeper lagoons to dive into.
I could make good on my promise to teach you how to fish.
You could will even warm, indolent waters away from stagnation. You could will them to life.
Make good on it, Cain. Teach me. And look forward to the coming winter. Look beyond your familiar horizon, and tell me where in the world you wish to go.
The Waitomo Glowworm Caves in New Zealand. They're absolutely disgusting, and I absolutely must see them in person. The eerie little things rather look like stars in the sky.
But if you were to ask me tomorrow, I'd likely offer a different answer.
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Oh, but you are, aren't you?
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What in the hell is up with that btw?
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If you don't wish to go, you will tell me. And if you wish to go, you shall come along. You have yet to board the jet. Don't you have time to think about it, then?
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What I'm trying to say is there's nothing here that says why I'm going there and what I'll be doing there for that matter. I like to know a little bit about what to expect before I get myself into too much trouble!
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I'm expected to be there for something or other. There will be dinners. Dancing. The rubbing of elbows. The eyeing of her twinkling bracelet or his gleaming cufflinks. That sort of thing.
It occurred to me that I would enjoy your company. The beaches of Corfu can be so quiet.
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[By all rights, that should be a romantic sort of admission, and Zenos' admission along with it. But every time, it's just...]
If you're feeling lonely, then you need only say as much. That's what friends are supposed to be for.
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Drink with me again. I have never paid attention to the feeling of the drink in my mouth. This time, I shall.
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I get the sense you're not all that fond of making memories, but let's make some together. We'll drink. I mean, we could have our fill of drinks on the flight over. It's not as though we're expected to fly the damn thing.
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So you are coming with me.
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I'd like to hear more about these quiet beaches of yours while I see to packing my luggage.
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During Corfu's summers, the ocean is at rest. It would be most desirable to visit again in the winter, when the waves are more dynamic. The sea in winter will force a man to labor. Not so, upon our visit. Just warm while it lazes across the sand.
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I'm going to be bringing home more souvenirs than I can count...
[Everything. That's a dangerous word, and Zenos seems unaware of that fact.]
Let it be known I'm not adverse to visiting in wintertime. For all the things you want to see with me, I have just as many I want to see with you. For now we'll have to settle for warm and indolent waters, and we'll have to focus our efforts elsewhere when the time comes. I imagine there are all sorts of trails and terrain we could get ourselves lost in. Coves and caverns you would have me espy. Treacherous things to climb around on. Deeper lagoons to dive into.
I could make good on my promise to teach you how to fish.
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Make good on it, Cain. Teach me. And look forward to the coming winter. Look beyond your familiar horizon, and tell me where in the world you wish to go.
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The Waitomo Glowworm Caves in New Zealand. They're absolutely disgusting, and I absolutely must see them in person. The eerie little things rather look like stars in the sky.
But if you were to ask me tomorrow, I'd likely offer a different answer.
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Steady now, Cain Hitlein.]
If only there were more than twenty-four hours in the day! There's so much out there for us to see, and so little time to see it in.