tell me all that you've thrown away Who: Chris & Kal. What: Kal bugs his friend for information, and Chris is less than forthcoming. Where: Chris's apartment. When: April 7, Friday evening.
Chris puttered in his kitchen, feeling aimless. In the days following the argument with Nish, the revelations she'd so gratuitously bestowed on him, he'd laid low. A few feelers outstretched along his network gave him no new information, about Rodrigo or whoever was controlling him or about the person or persons responsible for the drive by.
The microphone sat in its box, untouched, placed on top of his fridge. He'd watched a number of messages go up on the network, mainly speculation about the gifts' origins, but nothing that seemed worth following up on. All in all, he was in a rut, and now he was started to pick at the idea of inviting Daniel over for dinner. They hadn't had much of a conversation since he had brushed the other man off following...ah, events, and Chris did feel slightly guilty about it.
Instead, however, it seemed that someone else was ready to trample on his tentative plans. A loud knock at his door pulled him away from the consideration between pork and chicken in his fridge. Chris crossed the small space to open it, using his cane indoors, revealing Kal. His brows drew together in surprise and confusion, but he stepped aside to let the bigger man enter the apartment regardless. He turned to watch Kal, closing the door behind him.
"So what's up?"
“Way to answer your messages, bro,” Kal said by means of greeting. He moved through the apartment, comfortable as ever and not waiting for any type of an invitation, before reaching Chris’s couch. “I wanted to talk to you, seriously, about this.” He reached into the large back pocket of his jeans and withdrew the Hawaiian club, setting it onto Chris’s coffee table with a loud noise. “You don’t know who sent this to me?”
Just as Kal had said in his network post, the thing was impressive. It did look like it belonged, Indiana Jones style, in a museum.
"You gonna get something looking like that and then treat it like a movie set prop?" He replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "And no, I don't, and I couldn't reply because I have things to do. Sorry that I can't sit around jawing all day like the rest of you. You want something to drink?"
He started to move toward the kitchen, then paused, a hand grasping the back of one of his dining chairs. His gaze fell to the club, then moved to Kal's face. "So the whole thing, the box outside your door, no note, all of that happened?"
Sitting onto the couch and letting himself fall back onto the cushions he gave a quick nod. “Wrapped all nice and everything, it’s why I asked if you and kuku did this because I know you sure as hell don’t know how to wrap a gift like that. But that was it, just that in the box without a note or anything. And it’s… it’s a big fucking deal, Chris. I don’t know who the hell would part with that. I’m guessing I’m the only Hawaiian here but shit, this thing is valuable.” He leaned forward and touched the club gently.
Chris's gaze dropped to where Kal's hand brushed the club. "Valuable, how? Culturally? Monetarily?" One hand raised to whisk away any potential complaints from Kal before they were voiced. "I'm just asking out of curiosity, that's all." He continued his slow tread to the fridge, where he helped himself to two bottled hard ciders and carried them over to where Kal was sitting. He offered one out to his friend.
Kal bobbed his head and took the cider from his friend and clutched it with both hands. Kal hunched forward and looked at the club with a sense of marvel in his eyes. “Both. It’s valuable culturally and monetarily. At least I’d imagine. Pick it up, look at it. You can just make out the marks from where it was carved and it smells like the ocean. It’s old though, not something that was made in some crappy seaside shop. I think it’s really old. Plus it’s a club, it has significance. It was used for war, if need be. Usually they’d be lined with shark teeth to give it an extra pop of pain.”
Chris moved to a nearby chair, eyeing Kal's gift as he sank into a seated position. He made no move to touch the club, looking slightly disconcerted at the idea of shark teeth on it. A quick twist had his cider open and he tossed the cap onto the coffee table alongside the weapon, taking a drink before tilting the bottle's open mouth in Kal's direction as he arched one brow.
"So you gonna get it appraised? What're you gonna do with it?"
Kal shrugged and twisted off the top of his drink. “I’m not sure. Appraising it is possible but getting something appraised often gets people asking questions. Where’d you get this, why do you have it, et cetera, and I don’t really want to answer those questions. Hell, I can’t answer them.”
He slumped back into the couch again and raised his gaze to Chris’s. His face was serious but void of anger. Just careful observance. “So, what’d you get?”
Chris helped himself to a long, slow sip of his drink before replying, as though the answer was of no consequence.
"Some stupid joke microphone," he finally said, shrugging. "Nothing as nice as what you got. Clearly you impressed someone, somewhere." Chris fought to keep the grimace from his face, wishing he'd chosen different wording. He turned the conversation back around to Kal. "So are you gonna donate it then? Some museum, maybe in Hawaii?"
Kal considered this for a moment but finally gave a slow shake of his head. “I don’t want to deal with the questions of where I found it. And, I don’t know, it’s valuable to me too. Just..." He gave a shrug, not finishing his sentence. He brought his fingers to his lips, pinching them lightly as he looked at the club. Chris knew what Kal’s culture meant to him. The Hawaiian side of his family was really the only family he had, the only family that made an effort.
“What are you doing with the joke microphone? Throwing the damn thing out?”
"Yup," he lied, smoothly and easily. "Definitely wasn't anything valuable like what you got. You hear about anything anyone else got? Makes me wonder if someone wasn't playing some giant joke on the whole building. The damn things came out on April Fool's Day, after all."
“Yeah it seems like it was a weird prank of some sort. I mean, people were posting on message boards about it, questioning if people knew who sent whatever. Daniel said he got a fucking police badge...” Kal’s eyes raised and met Chris’s. He took a swig of his drink. “I met Daniel, by the way. He’s a really nice guy, I really like him. We’ve started going to the gym together.”
Chris nodded, unsure whether Kal was measuring him for surprise or distrust, or both. "I ran into him the other day on my way out, and he said as much. You're not gonna try and poison him against me, right?" A sliver of amusement wended its way into his words, his mouth half smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.
“Nah, I wouldn’t do that,” Kal replied with complete honesty. “He’s a really good guy though, seems to really have a lot of feelings for you for some reason.” He flashed a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He did like Daniel and he was happy for Chris. But Chris was infamous for not accepting that he deserved better, so Kal couldn’t help but be a little worried his friend wouldn’t see the good thing that Daniel was.
“Thing is, he already told me about the both of you bumping into each other when he was heading to the gym. He told me that you were acting a little off, taking calls and being weird about it. All on the day the gifts were given out.”
"It was a weird day," Chris rejoined, eyeing Kal carefully. "A person can't take a phone call without getting judged for it?"
“You can totally take a phone call. The fact that you were off in the trees taking a phone call is, however, suspicious as fuck. Particularly with your rushing to get off the call once Daniel showed up,” Kal replied. “Considering you were upfront with Daniel and me finally about the gang shit, I would’ve thought you wouldn’t be acting weird around either of us anymore.”
Chris' grip around his glass visibly tightened, and he forced himself to relax.
"You'd think I'd win a reprieve after telling you both everything that's in my fucking diary," he replied, brows rising and falling in irritation over his forehead. "Instead, I get two 30-year-old nags who're gonna drive me to an early grave.
"Look, I was honest. I'm still being honest. There's some stuff that I have to take care of on my own. Being shady is kind of part of my job; I get it that you guys wanna babysit me and make sure I don't twist my fucking ankle, but there's things I still have to take care of. And, no, you can't listen in, because that'd just make more trouble for all of us."
He shrugged. "The weirdness doesn't just go away with a single application of friendship, amigo. Even you've gotta realize that this isn't just a snap my fingers and everything's suddenly OK again situation."
Kal let out a huffing sigh. “Look, I get you’re not going to be able to just snap your fingers and get yourself out of the situation. Just… try to meet us in the middle. This was a big secret that you kept from us and I don’t know, maybe Daniel is alright with it, but I’ve been waiting for this for years. It messes up my trust in you, at least a little. So work with me, work with Daniel, get us to trust you fully and really believe you when you say you’re getting out of all this.”
He took a sip of his drink and pointed at Chris. “And poor choice of words, braddah. You already hurt your leg, of course we’re going to be concerned you’ll twist your fucking ankle. You don’t have the best track record.”
"Hilarious," Chris replied. He moved forward in his seat, clearly wanting to rise. Instead, he perched on the edge.
"Are you done lecturing me? Because last time I checked, you weren't my mother. I don't need to run every little thing I do by you guys. Trust goes both ways, and if you're gonna be paranoid about everything I do, I can't convince you to chill out, Kal. I have way too much shit to deal with otherwise."
Kal’s brows shot up and he quickly sat up then leaned forward, toward Chris’, his face switching from minor annoyance to complete irritation. “Trust goes both ways? Are you fucking kidding me, Chris?” He nearly spat. His voice was gravely and low, like the rumbling of a mountain before the volcano exploded. “Where the fuck did that come from? What the fuck did I do to lose your trust? I’ve been nothing but fucking honest with you since we met.”
"That's not what I meant," Chris snapped, "and you fucking know it. I meant that you guys need to fucking slow down and realize I have things that only I can handle. And if that's something you don't wanna hear, you can walk out that door you came through, and take your fucking club with you."
Kal leaned forward, almost as if he were going to hit Chris upside the head. It was a quick movement of his powerful hand that only ended in his grasp of the club. Still, he had it tightly in his hand, the war weapon of his ancestors, and when he stood up he was every bit as terrifying as the warriors of his history.
Touring over Chris he glared down at him and pointed the club at him. “Keep it up, Chris. Keep pushing everyone who fucking cares for you out of the way and see where it gets you. Or maybe get your head out of your ass and realize that we care for you and are trying to help in anyway you can and accept that assistance rather than pushing it away, or else when you finally get out of this shit hole you put yourself in, you’re going to find yourself a very lonely man.”
He stepped away from the couch and headed for the door, taking the club and the drink with him, each step making the furniture vibrate on the floor as he went.
Chris felt only the slightest twinge of fear at Kal's reaction; he forced himself to meet his friend's gaze, watching him go. The moment his apartment was empty of any other presence beside himself, though, he sucked in a deep breath and buried his face in one hand. He could have handled that better; a lot better, but now things were what they were. He could only imagine the blowback he'd get from Daniel over it, once again raising the thought that he should regret getting involved.
He drained the rest of his cider, and then went in search of something harder hidden further in the depths of his kitchen.