Peculier Bay City
December, 2012
“Are
you sure it's okay for us to be driving this?”
The
front tire on the little blue motor scooter bounced the two twins
riding it a few inches into the air as they turned off the main road
and ducked through a set of parallel rows of buildings.
“I
wondered why you were taking all these little back alleys...”
muttered the girl sitting further back on the seat.
“I
just don't want us to get in trouble or anything! What's wrong with
taking the scenic route, anyway? We can go wherever we want
now—there's so much stuff to see!” The boy in front broke a
freckled smile to the air as they zipped down the street; he slowed
to a crawl and leaned off the bike just a hair as they passed by a
woman whose head and face were mostly obscured by a dark green wrap,
sitting back and playing out triads of notes on a small keyboard
beside a sign that simply read “FEED KITTEN.”
“Piers--”
“Petra--”
The
girl dragged her brother away from reading the sign and attempted to
wrestle him back onto the gas, succeeding primarily in pulling his
helmet off and spilling shaggy half sandy blonde, half cobalt blue
hair into his face--”Hey!” He nearly toppled into the roadside
pianist before finally relenting and swerving back into place on the
road with a quick “Sorry!” to the woman, who had somehow managed
to not miss a beat in her song.
“If
I'm late to work then I'm definitely
getting in trouble!”
“Jeeeez,
okay, okay...” he mouthed back at his sister as he tucked his hair
back inside, and the pair sped off once again.
The
freedom of mobility was a gift the two had only just earned with the
help of an early birthday present and already Piers Sinclair was
prepared to take full advantage of the privilege. Cobblestone
alleyways, steely grey skies, cat musicians, and the power to go as
fast as he wanted (within legal and mechanical reason)--he felt that
the entire world lay before him, just at his fingertips, ready to be
turned over. He knew that his sister felt the same way—literally,
he knew. There was a rainbow between them, a shared sense of the
others' emotions at roughly all times. Twin children with twin
powers since they had turned fourteen—he knew also that although
her heckling him was mostly in fun, she genuinely was nervous about
them being underaged moped drivers and about being potentially late
to work, just as she knew that although he was excited for the new
world with a reckless abandon, he genuinely would work his hardest to
get his sister to work on time.
They
wove through a network of roads chosen primarily at Piers's leisure
before easing back out onto the highway and riding it the remainder
of the way to the Vertrose Galleria. As they pulled up to the
entrance pavilion, Petra hopped off of the bike and removed her own
helmet with intent, letting her indigo bicolored hair swing free in
the process. “You're going to come pick me up tonight, too,
right?” she asked as she passed the helmet into her brother's arms;
he nodded, and grinned.
“Of
course I am!” replied Piers with exuberance. “What am I gonna
do, leave you stranded up here?” Petra returned his smile and
turned towards the door.
“You'd
better not! Be careful on the way home, okay?” she said as she
started away, before pausing to add, “You're a pretty awful
driver.”
“I
will, don't worry!” Piers replied and ignored her addendum, and
then tucked the other helmet safely away before calling after her,
“Say hi to Iris for me!”
“And
to Michael.”
“I
don't want to say hi to Michael.” She disappeared into the doorway
and Piers sat back; his grin took on a determined edge. Free once
more—truly free this time—he revved the engine on his moped with
boundless delight and complete obliviousness to the inherent
silliness in the sight he was making as a fifteen-year-old boy
revving a scooter, and drove home.
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