Birdman's Eye View: If You Love Someone...

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BRIIIING BRIIIING

BRIIIING BRII-

Click.

"Hello?"

"John."

"Yes?  Who's-"

"It's Freddie."

"Oh, hello!  How's-"

"Are you busy at the moment?"

"...No?"

"Then come quickly."  He sounds so strange.

"What's going on?"

"And bring the thing."

"Freddie, I don't unders-"

"Come now.  Please."

Click.

This ten second chat is all I have to go off of.  Just a few lines of dialogue between us- me nasal and confused, Freddie hoarse and melancholy.  But he said, "Bring the thing."  Bring the Relic. 

So Julia's back, it seems.  First impulse is to be glad- but under what circumstances has she returned?  He certainly didn't sound too pleased.  I suppose I'm about to find out.  Despite this being another precious free day from the studio, and how late it is (maybe Julia had something there when she called him a vampire- just kidding), I clamber into my car and head for Freddie's. 

I pull up to the curb and park carefully.  Freddie isn't alone; there's a couple of cars near his door.  He had mentioned something earlier about a get-together he was having.  With the Relic in hand, I hurry to Number Twelve.

I'm a few steps from the door when it opens, and that friend of our manager's steps out.  Prentiss, or Prenter, something like that, the one who just really hit it off with Freddie a couple of months ago.  The light over the stoop hits his face eerily.  I don't know what it is, but something about this fellow gives me the willies.

"Good evening," I say to be polite.

He doesn't respond, instead just grimaces at me and walks past.  Prenter doesn't seem to say anything, ever, unless it's to Freddie.  I'm not sure how I feel about that, though it's probably a good old-fashioned case of paranoia.  I consider Freddie a friend, and I hope all the best for him, but I feel he has his wits about him enough to make his own decisions.  It's not my place to be smothering about it anyway.

Prenter leaves the door a bit ajar.  So all I have to do is push the slab open a bit and walk in.  It's so quiet, for a party.  Then again, it is nearly one o'clock on a Tuesday night (or Wednesday morning), I imagine everyone must have drifted home by now.  One of his cats pads over to say hello.  I rub behind its ears for a minute, then I hear the voices. Freddie and a female, having a soft conversation.  Suddenly I recognize the voice as Mary's, as it's not quite low enough to be Julia's.  I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I can't help myself.

"...Done is lie to you," Mary is saying.  "You do realize that, don't you?"

"I know," Freddie murmurs.

A pause.

"But," he goes on, "I've been less than honest with her this whole time, as well, so, I... I mean, there's really no good guy or bad guy here.  She just is, I just am, and, uh... I mean, it doesn't make any sense, I know, but-"

"No, it doesn't," Mary agrees.  "What is it, really?"

"Hm?"

"What is it about her- that makes all the difference?"

"Difference?"

Another longer, more awkward silence.  "Between she -and me."

"Mary, darling, there's no comparison-"

"Please don't dodge me on this, Freddie.  Please don't lie, you said you'd never lie to me again."

"I'm not lying."

"You said, there's no comparison."

"There isn't.  You and she- you're different people, very different.  I've never had a reason not to trust you.  You're the one constant thing I have, you don't play games, you're always there for me-"

"But it's Eve you love."

"Did I say that?"

"Not directly-"

"She can't stand me, Mary.  She hates me inside and out- what's more I've given her more than enough reason to, so-"

"Eve's song, her face, that kiss, and you say she hates you."

"Mary..." Freddie trails off a moment, sounding so weighed down.  Then he starts up again, a subtle edge under his words now.  "Why is it you didn't do this before?"

"What do you mean?"

"You encouraged me when I told you about myself months ago.  The life I live, you cheered.  Whatever makes me happy, you said, and you came to terms with it so soon."

"I don't want to hold you back, darling."

"You didn't, and you don't.  You accepted it, and I love you for it.  Which is why- when it comes to this girl, this mirage- who was in need, who wanted only to be my friend, who tried so hard to distance herself from me, stay in the background, be invisible- you question me.  You question us.  What for?  She didn't do anything.  It was all me.  I made her.  And even so, nothing's happened.  In spite of me, nothing's happened."

Mary sits there a moment, before saying, in a much softer voice, "Well."

"What?"

"You really do love her, don't you?"

"Mary, please-"

"Don't you?"  Her voice is as level as ever.  I've never heard her shout once, and I've known her for years. 

And Freddie doesn't say a word.  He won't confirm or deny it.  He is utterly silent.

After a while, Mary sighs.  "At least you didn't say 'no,' because that would have been untrue."

Absently I finally close the door behind me.  They both snap out of it and Freddie calls out, "Who's there?"

"John," I reply. 

"Come on in, John, sorry."

So I come further into the flat, and enter the parlor.  It's only Mary and Freddie sitting there.  I suppose everyone else has tripped on home.  Where's Julia, I wonder?  Perhaps she isn't still here.  Then what does he need the Relic for? 

"I ought to be on my way home," Mary murmurs.  "It was a lovely party, Freddie."

"Thank you for coming."

They get up off the sofa, and with a mutual "Good night" and a kiss, Freddie sends her off.  They're still friends, that I can see.  But once more, there's a sadness to her smile when she turns away.

As the door closes on Mary, Freddie doesn't so much as look my direction.  He walks back in, shoulders hunched and head down, drifting toward the piano.  He's so unhappy, the poor man.  Usually, he doesn't make it this plain to see, but it's impossible not to feel it now. I don't want to rush him, break his train of thought, so I just stand there, waiting to be acknowledged. 

He puts his hand absently on the keys, begins plinking out a melody.  I hear him hum softly under his breath, "Ju-li-a, Ju-li-a, dah de dah, calls me..."

Freddie abruptly stops, plays it again, but he varies the rhythm a little, adding notes to the second word.  "Ju-li-a, Ju-u-li-a..."

Then he repeats it, and this time, he's developing his own lyrics.  This is creativity in action, and it's fantastic.  "Ju-li-a, look at me now... Ju-li-a, you got me somehow..."  A pause, then, his fingers wander up the scale, and he sings words that randomly drop down from his brain and land in his mouth.  "You gave me no war-ning, took me by surprise-"

I clear my throat quietly.  Freddie suddenly remembers he's not alone, and turns to me.

"Oh, yes, John," he whispers.  "Hello."

"Good evening."

"It is, somewhere out there."  He sighs.  "Would you like a drink?  There's tea right here, but I think it's gone cold now."

"I'm all right," I answer with a shake of my head.

"So do you have it?" he asks. 

"Right here."  I hold the Relic up, whose power gauge has been depleted to one-third.  It looks battered and beaten, but it works.  That's enough.  I place it into his outstretched hand.

Freddie nods.  "Perfect.  I'll just give this back to her before she runs off, and she can go home.  That's where the heart is, after all.  Maybe- maybe that's where she left it all this time.  Her heart."  He laughs weakly.

There is nothing in his face that says he means it.  To Freddie I say, "I suppose you're fairly ready for this to be over."

He shrugs.  "Thank you for fixing it, John."

"Nothing doing.  Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just be heading back home now."

"Of course, of course.  Again, sorry for calling you so late.  You're really quite good to me, you know."

"You're my friend," I say.  "Why wouldn't I?"

Freddie half-smiles and nods.  I just turn, then, and march back out the front door.  I'm already down the steps when the front door opens again, and Freddie comes out.

"By the way," he asks, "Did you have to go find anything special for it?  I can reim-"

"Not at all," I answer.  "It was a pleasure- and no, I didn't need anything."

Freddie doesn't go back inside just yet.  "It's so stupid," he exclaims after a moment, looking at the Relic he clenches in his fist.  "Who are they, even?  And why did they send her to me?  Why did these last two f---ing weeks have to exist?"

And then, as if to answer him, the Relic which has been quiet all day begins to sing: Bip-bi-bip BEEP BEEP Bip-bi-bip BEEP BEEP-

Freddie squints and starts looking for a way to answer.  "Push the button on the side," I instruct him.  When he does so, the keypad cover pops down, which makes him jump and almost drop the Relic on the floor again.

"Easy now!" I cry reflexively.  "I'm not putting it back together again."

"It's all right," Freddie mutters.  He presses the green button, and the Wagner popcorn stops popping.

I can hear my name through the speaker almost immediately afterward.  "John? Is it you?  Or is this Julia?"

Freddie puts the phone up to his lips, with a perplexed frown.  "Hello?"

"John?"

"No."

"Then who?" It's K on the other end.

"No, no, first you answer me, please, who are you?"

I hear some garbled, frustrated response- I suppose Tim just intervened.  And Freddie doesn't take any kindlier to him than I do.  His eyes narrow and he says, "Listen, you ass, I want to know who you are first, and then we'll talk about me."

I want to hear what's being said.  "Hey, can you put it on speakerphone?"

"How do I-"

I reach over and touch the megaphone button, and now K and Tim are babbling indignantly to us both.  I say, "This is John, chaps, it's me."

"Oh, good, it's you," K sighs. 

"The rude one is Tim," I tell Freddie, forgetting he can hear me. 

"Hey!" Tim growls.

"And the one who talks rather slow is K."

Freddie smirks.  "Well, you've made a few new friends, I s- wait a minute."  His eyes widen.  "K?"

"Yeah?"

"Not- not the guy in Vegas?  With that wretched broken-down truck?"

I squint.  "You know him?"

"What are you doing with the Relic?  Did you send Julia?  Did you know about it all along?"

K doesn't answer a moment.  "You... you do sound familiar... yeah, at Eve's wedding, the groom, man, you hated that truck-"

"The Mother Ship, right?"

"Yes- wait... Oh my God," K breathes. "This... isn't Mark from Canada, is it?"

"My name is Freddie," he says.  "But yes, you'd likely know me better as Mark."

Tim starts freaking out in real time.  "Freddie?  Not Freddie Mercury?"

"The Freddie Mercury."  There's a note of pride in his voice. 

I can almost see the froth around Tim's unfriendly mouth.  "Jesus H. Christ!  Steve, do you know who that is?"

K replies, "Yes, it's the guy who got married in Vegas forty years ago.  I was there."

My eyes widen when K utters the words "guy who got married"; Freddie's face changes when he says "forty years ago."  He looks at me, his face as white as his shirt. 

"It only happened a couple of days ago, K.  Don't you remember?"  Freddie tried to interject, but K and Tim are bickering amongst themselves again.

"You were Mark, Freddie?" K sounds like he's going to faint.

"No, no, no!  That's Freddie Mercury from Queen!  Remember?  The one who di-"  All of a sudden Tim cuts himself off.

But Freddie doesn't miss it.  His voice is flat as he asks, "The one who what, my dear Tim?"

"Uh, nothing.  Listen, Mr. Mercury, could you please give this phone to Julia if she's around?  It's the most incredible, surreal thing talking to you, all things considered, but we- we need to bring her in."

"First, what did you mean by forty years ago?"

A short hesitation.  Then Tim sighs.  "John knows, I guess we can tell you too.  We're forty years ahead of you.  You're the past, and we're the future."

I expect Freddie to snort and laugh this revelation away.  But instead he swallows, clenches the Relic tightly, and repeats, "Forty years?  Like years?  Forty times three hundred sixty-five days? Forty f---ing years?!?!"

"Yeah," K sighs.  "And we're really sorry you had to get mixed up in all this, man, it was an accident.  She was supposed to go somewhere else- meet someone else.  You weren't in the plan."  He pauses, and adds thoughtfully, cryptically, "Or were you?  Maybe not our plan, but-"

"Steve, not now.  Please, Fred- I mean Freddie, we won't be able to call again for about another one of your days- or another ten minutes, on our side of Time.  She needs to get back.  I don't expect you to understand, but she needs to get back here, do you know where she is?"

I don't know why Freddie doesn't just run back in, take the Relic upstairs to Julia, and let her vanish, but he only stands there talking to these clowns.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replies.  "I took her in for a while."

"You did?"

"Yeah.  It's been almost two weeks now.  She's been living with me."

"God, that's how long it's been?  We are so, so sorry, hopefully she didn't cause you too much misery-"

"No, no, she was sweet," Freddie replies, his voice turning soft.  "I'm quite- fond of her, actually."

"That's nice.  Well, you don't have to bother with her anymore, just -ive -is ba- to her, a-"

Freddie squints, holds the phone closer.  "Hello?"

But all we can hear now are a few haphazard syllables barked out here and there, until finally the Relic goes dead.  Now Julia will have to wait anywhere from two to twenty-four hours before she can hear from them again.  I wonder if that was Freddie's intent in not giving this directly to her.

"John," Freddie whispers after a moment, "I'm not mad, am I?  Did he say forty years?"

I nod. 

"So are they saying she's from the future?"

I nod again.

"But that doesn't make any f---ing sense."

I shake my head.

"Then again, nothing that's happened lately makes much sense anyway."

I shake my head again.

"Oh, for God's sake, f---ing stop with the head and talk like a person."

"What am I supposed to say?  That's what they told me, it doesn't make sense to me either.  Julia's probably better equipped to explain than those muppets are."

"I suppose you're right.  Maybe she is.  From- from there, I mean."  He swallowed.  "You know something?"

"What?"

"Tim, or whatever.  He was going to say, 'The one who died.'"  Freddie's brows knit. 

"You don't know that."

"It's obvious, John.  I heard him.  So, in forty years- uh, yes.  I'll be dead by the year 2017 at least."

"Freddie, that may not have been what he-"

"Oh, but it was, I could tell."  Only Freddie can discuss his own death and shrug his shoulders.  "So I won't see seventy. Who cares?  I don't want to be seventy.  Never did.  I'd much rather go before they have to put me in a wheelchair, with bags under my eyes, face all wrinkly.  Oh, how awful."

Honestly, I don't care if he's joking or not.  It's a terrible way to speak of oneself.  I fold my arms and sigh.  I wish he wouldn't be so blase about his own life.

"But K," he whispers to himself.  "My God.  How does that even work?"

"Life is a circle," I say philosophically.

"What the f--- does that mean?"

"I dunno," I concede.  "Where's Julia now?"

"Upstairs."

"Did you, um, apprehend the thing she took from you?"

"No, she still has it."

"Well, now you can offer a trade," I suggest. "Say you've got the Relic, and she can have it if she gives your whatchamacallit back."

Freddie stares at the Relic, nodding, likely not hearing a single word I said.

"So what are you waiting for? Here, let me leave you to it, so you can-"

"No," Freddie nods toward Julia's window. "Maybe- yeah.  Why don't you do it?"

"Me?" My brows furrow. This is a complete turnabout from last night, when he was all but accusing me of giving the Relic back and going back on my word! "Oh, no. You were the one who made me promise I wouldn't-"

"She'll come out for you, go on, give it to her. She's in her room."

I snort. "This is bullshit. You made me swear! Why are you-"

He explodes, "Because I'm a bloody coward, that's why!"

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm a bloody f---ing coward, and I don't think I could stand to look at her face again, so please... can you please do this for me?"

I shake my head in disbelief. "No, Freddie, I fixed her little phone, but that's as far as I go. The rest is yours."

"But I can't. Not now. I can scarcely bear to be in the same room with that girl any longer."

I draw back.  "You want her gone that badly?"

"Not want. Need. I need her gone- and I need her gone now. Right this f---ing minute."

"Why?"

"Because-" he begins, then cuts himself off before he blurts, loudly, "Because, by God, if I don't get rid of her right now, I could never let her go!"

I stare at him. Freddie shuts his eyes, and sighs through his nose. Did he just say what I think he said?

"Freddie, what does that-"

"It means," he interrupts me, "if I had it in my power I would raise my foot over this Relic and stomp it to pieces so small even you couldn't put them back together.  If the only opinion that mattered was mine, I would keep her for my own and tell everyone who didn't like it to f--- off.  If it were up to me and me alone... then, she would stay, and no questions asked."

"But last night you said-"

"I know what I said!" he shouts, startling me.  His eyes are burning with a queer sort of light.  "Don't you think I remember?  Every time I look at her I'm reminded, especially now after what she- Oh, John.  I was an asshole of the first degree.  Everything ill she believed of me, I confirmed.  I know exactly what I did last night, and what I said, and it- it's absolutely killing me." 

Once again, I am at a loss for the proper response.  I don't know how much longer I'm going to serve as a mutual stress ball for these two, but believe me when I tell you it's a true emotional strain on all involved.  For no reason I repeat Mary's question.  I suppose it's the first thing that comes to mind. 

"Do you love her, Freddie?"

Once again, his lips purse, closing to the words that would remove all doubt.  His hand rests on his hip, and he looks down.  I didn't really expect an answer anyway.  It's a weird question.

"Well, whether you do or you don't," I sigh at last, "there's only one thing you can do- and it's got to be you, and no one else.  I fixed the Relic, but you-" I glance toward the second floor window, where Julia is hiding- "you have to fix this."

Freddie nods.  "Yeah."  He blinks, then his eyes widen as the clock chimes one off in the distance.  "Oh, my God.  I should let you go."

"It's

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