Brian and Haverty wandered the snowy park aimlessly; Brian’s face lifted to the sky to catch the drifting snow. Haverty’s face was down turned, watching his own converse-clad feet kick up tiny drifts of snow. Ice crunched beneath their feet, breaking the muffled silence in the white park. The sharp smell of fresh snow covered the whole place, the intrusive scent of pine occasionally becoming overcoming it in short bursts, while the smell of car exhaust drifted in from the city; somewhere far off to the east. Brian watched Haverty’s pale blank face and wondered what he was thinking about.
He sighed loudly to get his attention.
The younger boy lifted ice blue eyes to look up at Brian, pencil thin eyebrows raised quizzically.
“So. Me and Holly broke up today.”
“Holly. Strange red blonde hair, green eyes, and freckles of abnormal size?”
“…Yes, that one. And her freckles weren’t abnormally sized; they were just so small that sometimes it looked like a bunch made up a big one.”
“Whatever you want to say to yourself Brian.”
“Don’t be a jerk. Anyway. She told me she wanted to see other people now, and that she didn’t think we were working out. I mean, I thought we were going to go all the way, you know? Together forever?”
“The interesting thing about forever is that sometimes it can be compacted into a week.”
“Week and a half.” Brian corrected him.
They turned a tight bend in the path.
“Best week and a half I ever had… I kinda just wish I understood what I did wrong.”
“Bad idea Brian. Try to understand a woman and you will fall into a deep pit of hopeless speculation and theory; a random cycle of viciously emotional and mentally distressing issues and ideals. I’d advise you not to try to understand, really. A woman’s mind is a wickedly illogical and complicated animal with a tendency to bite.”
Brian laughed, the sound bouncing off the trees and echoing around the empty park around them.
“Haverty, really! Where you get these ideas from I’ll never guess. And what would you know about it anyway?”
Haverty shrugged, his eyes back on his feet, treading across the newly fallen snow as though every piece was beautiful glass he was loathe to break.
“Humanity is merely a cerebral curiosity. Women happen to be part of humanity, so I occasionally find it relevant to my interests to look into their ways of living and thinking. They are incredibly interesting, in a torturous sort of way. They’re ridiculously complex and the only undeniable generality one can make about women is that they have no generalities, so trying to understand them is like walking in a circle of guesses and assumed probabilities.”
“You talk about humanity like you aren’t part of it. Also, I think the same applies to men – no men think alike, really.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I am too. And yes, while no man thinks alike, there are basic blanket stereotypes you can place over certain groups, who have similar ideals passed on from their fathers and such. They are typically firm in belief and thus, can be disorderly organized occasionally. They mostly have similar reasons for believing in things, where as a woman’s motives can range from anywhere, since they rarely allow logic to rule their actions. I’ve a theory that women are just simply more civilized – no proper male can cheat, gossip, steal, lie or backstab like a woman. He must be immensely civilized in order to do all these things, and well trained in the mannerisms of society.”
“And here I was, thinking you were on the women’s side. What horrible things to say!”
Shrugging his shoulders noncommittally, Haverty continued his slow paced walk down the icy park path.
“I am on no side but my own. And I don’t think these traits are particularly horrible, it’s just the way things are in accordance with my findings.”
“You are so weird.”
“People are weird. They mutate themselves without thought or understanding.”
Haverty smiled crookedly.
Brian knew he actually meant everything he was saying, unlike most people. Haverty had little time for creating actual judgmental views; he operated purely on observation and intuition with little if any input from his conscience. He just sort of drifted along in his own little world constructed of fantasy, thought and philosophical theories, only touching reality for a brief conversation with Brian, or for long periods of observation to test his theories or create a new one.
That’s why Brian liked him. Even though Haverty had his occasional odd prophesies of doom and moments of spiraling gloom and depression, as all people have from time to time, he was mostly just a distant observer. He was on a totally different plane of reality devoid of bias or prejudice; he acted as though his surroundings didn’t affect him, and that he was simply a spectator watching a rather amusing sport. Talking to him was relaxing – for a little while Brian could escape the stresses of the real world and just contemplate various subjects in Haverty’s own personal dimension.
They continued to meander along in silence, no direction or destination particularly in mind, listening to the muted silence of winter. When they approached the deserted playground that marked the end of the park path Haverty suddenly came to a stop, startling Brian, and looked at him with sorrowful eyes.
“There are monsters, Brian. They’re in the dark – in your nightmares, and your waking dreams too. Watch out for them. I wish they wouldn’t eat at you so.”
Then, just as suddenly as he had stopped, he whirled back around and sprinted through the white playground, hopped the fence, and raced down the road beyond, black trench coat floating silently behind him.
Brian called out after him, confused.
“Wait, what? What do you mean? What monsters?”
He tried to run after him, but he'd started so late that by the time he’d reached the road Haverty had disappeared into the dead trees and the small orderly houses beyond.
Brian stood in the lane uncertainly, unsure of what to do.
“…What monsters?”