Author's website: http://www.trickster.org/kass/

Disclaimer: Boys are theirs, words are mine.

Author's Notes:

Story Notes: Written in response to the "Shakespeare" challenge at livejournal community ds_flashfiction.

Pursuing my father's killers brought me hence: I stayed for reasons reason knows nothing of. It may be what I felt for Ray was love
(He never "led me on," in his defense.) Too long I tarried North, and now I find My partner's looks and manner passing strange. I always feared I might wind up deranged Given the way my dead speak in my mind
And no one now will look me in the eye
To tell me who this "Vecchio" may be.
It is as though nobody here but me
Can tell that aught's amiss, askew, awry. Full fair found I my Ray's prominent face But this Ray's fair of head, and arms, and gait. It's true I've never been what you'd call "straight," But rare I'm this struck down by easy grace. Am I deceived, or in those laughing eyes Might interest lurk, a hint of what might come? He flashes me a smile and I'm struck dumb By every choice that now before me lies. My father's ghost no useful answers gives. My deaf half-wolf wants donuts, "Boston Kreme." I feel I stumble in some waking dream
I know not where Ray is, or if he lives, Or how this stranger's come to know so well The details of our working partnership. I watch him sling his holster at his hip And wonder, could his hands speak, what they'd tell Of history. Who is this man, and why
This clumsy subterfuge? His walk's not right, His nose, his dress: I even checked his bite. And yet, perverse, I find I'd like to try To glean his story, given he knows mine. We seem to work together very well.
And what the future holds, no man can tell: Not even ghosts can cross that shadowed line. This Ray's a bafflement, a mystery.
But duty calls, an arsonist to track:
I guess I trust this man to watch my back Until such time as he'll divulge to me
His purpose here. Unless, of course, it's true I've snapped and nothing's different than before... Enough: it's time to work. My friend, the door. But think not that I'm fooled. I'm on to you.

End On to You by Kass: kass@trickster.org

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