Two Voices

[the_cabby]

 

“So, this is – what?” asked one man and he placed the coffee cup before the other, walking around the end of the table to take a seat.

 

“Just a conversation, it would appear.”

 

“Two voices in one head?”

 

“That’s it.”

 

Even the way they sat was different. One with his back straight against the back of the chair, legs crossed, and shoulders squared. A scuff of beard on his face and neutral clothing with jeans. Chestnut hair and glinting chestnut eyes that held a gentle smile, quiet and serene.

The other was a stark blond with hazel eyes, hunched in his seat and leaning his arms on the table, while keeping one hand around his coffee cup. As if he had just woken by from a long night of drinking, which wasn’t a lie. He was dressed in brown pants with a simple button up collared shirt. Both had wedding bands on their fingers.

 

“So -?”

 

“Roland.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Not very good at conversation, Mr. Cadwell?”

 

“Ah – yeah, no.”

 

“Ah.” Roland smiled and turned his cup, so he could pick it up for a drink.

 

“How?” Dirk started, unsure.

 

“That’s a loaded question.” Roland blinked and Dirk waved a dismissive hand.

 

“No, no – I mean – just – okay, yeah, loaded question.”

 

“You are –“ Roland gestured, and Dirk stared at him for a moment unsure and Roland took a breath to steady himself.

 

“Okay – I’m an immortal Saxon who fights supernatural creatures – typically. And you are -?”

 

“Oh!” Dirk blinked, suddenly realizing what was happening and sat up slightly in his chair, “Uhm – Irish-American and I – uh – kidnap and kill people for a living.” The last half is muffled slightly as he raised his cup to his lips for an awkward sip.

 

“I’m sorry?” Roland asked, leaning slightly, “You were – a little muffled at the end there.”

 

“I kill people for money.” Dirk blurted, irritated.

 

“Ah – well, that is slightly problematic.”

 

“Why?” Dirk asked, hesitating slightly.

 

“Because my job to resolve problems, that are probably caused by you.” Roland gestured, “My family resolves problems after extensive research. If the resolution to that problem is the eradication of said problem, then we follow through with as little casualties as possible.”

 

Dirk nearly chokes on his drink, “Eradication?!”

 

“Yes.”

 

“That’s a – a real big word for ‘we fuck shit up’, buddy.” Dirk pointed and Roland blinked with surprise.

 

“You kill people - for money. And you’re questioning my vocabulary?” he pointed and Dirk shifted uncomfortably, feeling called out.

 

“Look, I didn’t say I was better than you –“

 

“You nitpicked at my language instead.”

 

“You’re entire family does this shit?!”

 

“Most of them.”

 

“Seriously…?” Dirk scoffed, “So you, what? Have, like, five year-olds running around with guns and knives and shit?”

 

“No!” Roland snapped, offended, “And do I need to point out again, that if we were meeting under any other circumstances –  I would who be killing you. Or one of my children, or even my husband.”

 

“You have a husband?” Dirk echoed, looking surprised.

 

Roland’s look changed to that of a stern glare, and he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Dirk defended, holding up a hand.

 

“Mean what?”

 

“You’ve got a look - that says how you think I meant it, and I didn’t mean it like that – you said husband so I am checking that you said husband.”

 

“Because I’m a man, its unusual for me to have a husband?”

 

“You’re putting words in my mouth.” Dirk pointed, sternly, “That’s not what I said.”

 

“You alluded to it.”

 

“How did I allude to anything!?” Dirk defended raising his hands, “How? I didn’t do shit!”

 

“Your entire reaction, right now. Says it all!” Roland pointed at him, “Yes, I have a husband. Yes, I am Catholic. Yes, my husband is taller than you.”

 

Dirk paused for a moment in thought and held up a finger as if making a mental measurement. He had dealt with tall people before, so the concept of someone being taller than him wasn’t entirely out of his comprehension. It was a matter of how much taller.

 

“How tall?”

 

“Very.” Roland smiled, proudly.

 

“And you’re catholic?”

 

“We should change the subject, as you are doing yourself no favors.”

 

“Alright. You win.” Dirk agreed in a finalized tone of defeat.

 

The room was filled with a sudden awkward silence. Both men are Catholic and Caucasian but were now at a unique kind of odds. Dirk’s inability to control what came out of his mouth, and Roland’s expert tact.

Dirk straightened his back, suddenly painfully aware of his surroundings, and groaned an uncomfortable sigh. Roland pinched the bridge of his nose and silently ask for patience from their mutual God.

 

“Alright, I need air.” Dirk stated and stood up from his chair.

 

“How is that going to help you, exactly?” Roland asked, not bothering to hide his agitated tone.

 

“Anything is better than sitting here, staring at you.” Dirk gestured at him, angrily.

 

“Then stand behind me. I don’t care.” Roland shrugged, gesturing behind him.

 

“I don’t want to stand behind you.”

 

“I regret this question – why not?” Roland sighed, forcing patience.

 

“Because I don’t want you.” Dirk repeated, hotly, “Standing behind you isn’t going to change the fact I’m choking on the air here!”

 

“So, going outside is going to help you somehow?”

 

“I’m really – not liking you right now.”

 

“Oh, good.” Roland smiled, but there was an obvious tone of mockery in his voice, “Finally, something we agree on.”

 

Dirk sighed, gritting his teeth and running a hand through his hair, before looking up.

 

“You can end this at any time, ya know!?”

 

It is Roland who removes himself from the situation first. He gives an agitated sigh and stands up from his seat, calmly leaving with only a disappointed shake of his head. Leaving Dirk to stand for a moment rubbing his face with agitation before he storms off in the opposite direction.