How to Repair a Mechanical Heart by J.C. Lillis

Author:J.C. Lillis [Lillis, J.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-09-20T20:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

Augie Manners plays the lovable stoner every single time he’s onscreen‌—‌from Castaway Planet to those old burger commercials where his catchphrase was “Dude, can I have your pickle?” When he scuffs onstage for his Q&A there are zero surprises. Surf-shop t-shirt, sleepy smile, dumb fisherman hat hiding raggedy red-blond hair. His cargo pants look slept in and his weird rope sandals are almost certainly made of hemp. If he was in a comic strip, squiggly lines of visible weed fumes would follow him everywhere.

He throws his arms wide open. “Hel-loooooooo San Antonio!”

Cheers and wolf-whistles from the girls. Abel and I shoot we’ve-got-a-secret looks at each other.

“Wooooo! Yeah! Dutchie is in la casa, so let the party commence!” Augie Manners lifts his arms above his head and cracks his knuckles one by one, just like he does on the show. There’s a firefly-flash of cameras. “Oh, wow, you guys‌—‌seriously, are you Castaway Planet fans, for real? I was expecting geeks out the yin-yang but you guys are hot. Lorda-mercy!”

He tosses his dirty hat in the crowd and starts in on some story about a Riverwalk bar that has eighty-six kinds of beer, and I have to smile a little. I hated the Dutch Jones character for the first half of Season 1 when he was just crude comic relief, but he got pretty interesting with the OCD and the photographic memory and the talent for peacemaking, which kind of came out of nowhere but somehow made perfect sense.

I can’t focus on him for the first five or six questions, though. Because Abel is leaning close to me, whispering Castaway Planet lines in my ear so it looks like we’ve got secrets.

“You ready to take it a teeny bit further?” he murmurs. Some girl just asked Manners about that episode where Xaarg makes Dutchie walk on his hands the whole time. He’s eagerly reenacting, his hemp sandals waggling in the air.

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

“You sure? No imminent freakouts?”

“All clear.”

“You should know the risks ahead of time.”

“Of what?”

He sighs. “My sexual charisma.”

“Give me the disclaimers.”

“Well, side effects may include dry mouth, nausea, dizziness, blood clots, cardiac arrhythmia, dia-bee-tus‌—‌”

“Only in people over fifty. I heard.”

He narrows his eyes. “Would I wound you like that?”

“You might.”

“That’s it. I’m going to whisper something highly provocative.”

I bump him with my hip. “Go ahead.”

“It may reorder your entire universe.”

“I’m ready.”

He touches his lips to the rim of my ear. “Duuude. Can I have your pickle?”

I snort. I can’t help it.

“Shh!” he hisses. “Don’t laugh!”

“Don’t make me.”

“You think retro robot saw?”

“I don’t know.” I crane my neck.

“Zzt! You’ll make her suspicious.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and murmurs, “Just enjoy my attentions while you can.”

“Oh, so this is a privilege?”

“I’ll have you know I’m in high demand.”

“Right, right.” I flick his hair. “Who wouldn’t love the cockatoo version of Laurence Olivier?”

He giggles and pulls me closer. I tense automatically, but then I let myself relax, muscle by muscle.

It’s nice. Really nice.

“Oh by the way, guys and dolls‌—‌I brought a present for whoever’s got the best question today.

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