Amy
Part Two
Amy bounced around in the dressing room, wiggling out of that frilly dress of hers. The faded blue curtain that protected Amy from being seen and embarrassed shifted as she wiggled out of a pair of stark white nylons leotards. Gwenivere stood outside of the little closet, arms crossed over her chest, head bowed slightly. The undying urge for a cigarette was in full affect, giving her the chills and making her a little irritable. Two different clerks in the store had come up to her to ask her if she needed help. In response, Gwen had given them such an awful look, that they promptly backed away. Her fingers curled into the pockets of her trench coat, coiling around the engraved, silver Zippo in her pocket. She flicked the cap open and closed as she stood there, waiting for the sort of new-and-improved Amy to make an appearance.
“It's a black cloud over head
That's me
And the poison ivy chokes the tree
Again it's me
I'm the filthy one on Bourbon Street
You walk on by
I'm the little boy that pushes hard
And makes him cry…”
Soon, the faded blue curtain was pulled back and Amy stepped out. She was now clad in plaid pants that hung low on her hips and covered her feet with suspenders that hung limply on either side of her waist. Her torso was covered with an Emily The Strange t-shirt that was black, white and red. In the middle of the t-shirt was a picture of Emily. The writing surrounding it simply said: “I want you to leave me alone”. She kicked her feet out a bit, exposing little toes that were painted hot pink. Gwenivere turned and looked at her, laughing a little bit. “Looks good, chéri. You like?” Amy took the question and spun around on her toes, making a small pose at the end of it that forced Gwenivere to laugh whole-heartedly. “I do!” Amy cried, her voice squeaking slightly. Gwen smiled a little bit and patted Amy’s head softly. “All right. Grab whatever else you want and I’m going to pick up some stuff as well.” She smiled a little bit before turning on her heel to begin her walk-through of the store.
“There's a dirty needle in your child
Ha ha, stick me
An empty bottles still in hand still dead
Still me
I'm the suit and tie that bleeds the street
And still wants more
I'm the 45 that's in your mouth
I'm a dirty, dirty whore…”
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“Yeah look it's me
The one who can't be free
Much too young to focus
But to old to see…”
Their shopping bags were put into the backseat of the car before Gwenivere had taken Amy out to lunch. Well, a very late lunch. It’d be safe just to go all out and call it dinner. The meal of choice had been Chinese at a small restaurant downtown. Gwenivere sat across from her young protégé, looking over a menu silently. Amy did the same, though she traced the laminated menu she was reading with her index finger. She mouthed the words she reading to herself. The waiter came up to them, speaking very choppy English that Gwenivere barely understood. She heard “having to eat” and that was about it. She ordered a bunch of different things: sushi platter, chicken balls, chow mien, egg rolls and bean sprouts with Labatt Draft. She looked across the table at Amy, brow raised softly. Amy simply said that she would be having the same, but with a coke instead. The waiter took the menus away and quickly brought back their drinks, along with wooden chopsticks that were packaged in flimsy paper.
“Hey look it's me
What no one wants to see
See what you brought this world
Just what you want you want to see
Hey ma, hey ma look it's me…”
Gwenivere picked up the chopsticks and slowly pulled them apart. She watched as Amy drew hers towards her, and tugged them apart with her little fingers. Gwenivere curled her fingers around them, tapping them together. Amy inspected her fingers, moving the sticks to try and put them in the same position as Gwen. As she tried to tap them together, one flew out of her hand and landed in the middle of the table. Amy chuckled nervously as Gwen chortled to herself. “First of all, relax your hands. Put your index finger between them and curl your fingers around each.” She explained holding her hands out to her so that she could get a closer look at how her fingers were poised. Again, Amy tried to hold the chopsticks. She smiled broadly as she tapped the two chopstick ends together.
“Yeah, he wants to become father now
Me again me
The marks inside your arms, spell me
Spell only me
I'm a nothing face that plants the bomb
And strolls away
I'm the one who doesn't look quite right
As children play…”
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“Yeah look it's me
The one who can't be free
Much too young to focus
But too old to see…”
Their food had arrived, and they ate quietly, for the most part. Until Gwenivere grew weary of the silence. “Do you have any idea where… Ahriman went?” She was unaccustomed to calling him that. To her: he the freaky, morbid, recluse of N.E.W. known as Seraph. Amy looked up at her, innocently. The innocence was false. Gwen could see right through it, however. She knew the innocent act. Hell, she invented that act. Amy shook her head softly and sighed. “He’s probably out drinking with Uncle Adam.” Gwenivere nodded a bit before coming to a realization. “Adam Cameron?” Amy nodded softly. Gwenivere made a small noise of approval and question. “Are they good to you, chéri?” She looked into Amy’s eyes as she looked up from her dinner. She nodded and smiled brightly. “Oh yes. Of course they do. They protect me.” She explained, taking another mouthful of the chow mien.
“Look up to me,
What to be and what to fear
Look up to me
Look it's me, at what you hear
See right through me
See the one who can't be free
See right through me
Look it's me what no one wants to see…”
It was Amy’s turn to ask the questions. She finished her egg roll and turned her little body in the chair to face Gwenivere fully. Gwenivere was still eating, but gave Amy her full attention. She seemed rather pensive, a look of curiosity present in her eyes. She lifted her brow a bit as she looked to the little girl. Gwen sat up a bit straighter, laying the chopsticks down and taking a swig of her beer. “Why do you fight?” Gwenivere raised her brow a bit further, a look of surprise coming over her face. “Well… why does anyone fight? Ahriman fights, yes? Uncle Adam fights, yes? We fight because we get paid to fight. We fight to entertain, I suppose. Americans, no offence, find entertainment in the pain of other people. As long as they’re not being hurt, they laugh.” Gwenivere drank back the rest of her beer and ordered a glass of water from their waiter who was frantically taking orders from all of his tables. Scatter-brain.
“Hmmm, now, see the black cloud up ahead
That's me
And this poison ivy chokes the tree
Again it's me
And I'm the filthy one on Bourbon Street
You walk on by
I'm the little boy that pushes, pushes
Makes him cry…”
Amy shook her head softly, her face wrinkling into a bit of a frown. “Well… what are you going to do to The Vine? I saw him beat you pretty hard at Legacy.” A sigh left Gwenivere’s lips. Her hand lifted to gently push her jaw to the left a bit. She shrugged it off and sighed a bit. “No worries, chéri! At Ground Zero, I’ll walk away with that belt of his.” Gwenivere smiled confidently, nodding her head to emphasize her point further.
“Hey ma, hey ma look it's me.”
“Prince Charming” by Metallica
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