The Firebird and Other Stories by R. Cooper

Author:R. Cooper [Cooper, R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-09-13T16:00:00+00:00

TANK FOLLOWED Simon up three narrow flights of stairs and ducked through his doorway without a word. He could stand straight once inside, although he could touch the ceiling with no strain. The apartment wasn’t much. It opened into a kitchen from which Tank could see the living space, which was also Simon’s bedroom. Several bookshelves, crammed full of books and knickknacks, but neat, were scattered around the room. A small brown couch, draped in several brightly knitted afghans, was against one wall. The curtains looked hand-sewn but thick enough to keep out the cold, although Simon immediately released Tank’s hand to go to his radiator and check the temperature. He removed his coat despite the chill.

Tank studied the hanging baskets in the kitchen, the spotless countertops, and the loudly running refrigerator. Simon’s apartment had the same amount of color and patterns as a fairy’s space, but every project had been completed and put away when done.

Simon returned to the kitchen, scooting around Tank to turn on the oven. “It heats the place faster,” he explained as if embarrassed, but then stopped. “I could make something, if you’re hungry. Or, no, I should clean you up first.”

Like that decided him, Simon seemed to relax. He took hold of Tank’s hand and led him to the sink, where he wet a towel and began to dab at the cuts.

Give an elf a task and they were happy. Tank stared as Simon picked out a few shards of glass he hadn’t noticed and then fought the urge to swear when Simon put his hand under the tap. The cold water stung.

“You cook?” Without the glass in them, Tank’s minor wounds would heal in no time. They weren’t even that painful, but he thought Simon could use a distraction. And he was curious. Tank was always curious about Simon.

Simon grumbled at him without looking up. “Bartending isn’t my life’s dream or anything, Tank.” He grabbed a new towel to dry Tank’s knuckles, then held the towel there for a moment. “I’ve always cooked, but I’ve been trying to learn more. On weeknights I’ve been using the bar’s kitchen to offer a few things. It’s slow going with how I am, but so far it’s been popular. And… I grew up thinking I was a not-quite elf. Most black beings in this country have no connection to their history, or each other. For years most of them didn’t even know what they were, and they did their best to hide their differences in order to stay alive. Anyway.” Simon seemed embarrassed by his show of emotion. “So, I’ve been trying to learn West African cooking too. I’m probably nothing like my ancestors, but it’s been interesting, learning it all. Mami has helped. Sometimes I think she’s ancient.” He glanced up in sudden alarm. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Tank smiled in genuine amusement and not as a threat. “Your secret is safe with me,” he promised without looking away. Simon blinked at him a few times, then swallowed and lowered his attention to the towel and Tank’s hand.

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