As Told By Jayson

If you call me a healer, I will punch you in the throat.

Yeah, I can heal you.  Doesn’t mean I have to.  Doesn’t mean I want to.  Doesn’t mean that’s who I am as a person.

As an example, when you have a dollar, that doesn’t make you a philanthropist.  No one thinks it’s cool to just walk up to you waving an empty wallet screaming that you’ve got to help them, you’re the only one who can help them, they really need your dollar.  And then look at you like you’re mean when you go, hey, you can live without that dollar.  Other people in the world don’t have a dollar, you can be a person without a dollar, too.

I really didn’t want to be a Superhero.  I stupidly saved some kid who got hit by a bus in public.  Somebody took a video.  Since then, I can’t walk down the street without some old coot telling me to fix his arthritis or give him back his hearing.  Like it’s my fault he lost it, right?

People always expect it to be obvious when something’s wrong with them.  It’s not that obvious.  People don’t ask you to fix their liquor-binged brain synapses, or their hand-wrinkles or their piss-poor attitude about the world.  Nobody born deaf ever asked me to fix his ears.  As long as they’re used to it, people like their issues.  It’s only when they have some big sudden change, like losing an eye, that think there’s something wrong.  So forgive me if your shit breaks and when you get all dramatic I don’t take you serious.

Now don’t go thinking I’m a jerk, with your entitled ass.  I have one friend who tells me all the time, my problem is I’m too nice.  Even though you people piss me off with all your stupid health concerns, I heal almost everyone who asks me.  I can’t even stop myself – it’s like a reflex.  And it doesn’t cost nothing to heal you.  You know that, right?  It’s hard fucking work and it never pays.  There’s always another broken person thinking that I owe him.

Amare isn’t like that.  She’s the one friend I mentioned above.  The day I met her, she was riding a high-speed bike, no helmet, no nothing, and she busted out and smashed her face against the concrete.   Teeth went flying, and she looked up at me with her broken nose puffing out two black eyes, blood everywhere.  I was getting ready to turn around and pretend I hadn’t seen anything, pumping up the volume on my music and everything to drown out her sobs.  But she saw me getting ready to leave and for some reason thought that was hysterical.  I watched her burst into laughter and stand up, her concussion making her swerve left and right as she tried to shake my hand.

“Hi!”  She shouted.  “I’m Amare!”

Then she pinched her own nose back into place, and started to heal herself, and it all made perfect sense – why she acted like she didn’t need me.  Because she didn’t.  She never will.  That’s what makes me like her.  And Amare likes me for the way I let her do her crazy things without wanting to always fix her.  We both get, more than others, that there’s no obvious right or wrong way to be.

I have one other friend besides her.  I met him the same day.  After her bicycle rode three circles around us I realized there was a guy on it.  He was her boyfriend, or something.  Thom.  Easy to get along with and never asks for help.  If he did I don’t think I’d even mind.

I don’t blame either of them for all the shit I ended up getting into.  I blame Rita.  Mumina kind of shares the blame, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s mainly Rita’s fault.

Me and my two friends were sharing this two-bedroom when Rita and Mum came to show us a video.  They always do this – one of them gets some crazy fucking idea and they have to come to our place to figure it out.  I guess they’re trying to be Thom’s friend, but they never even talk to him.  It’s basically like they come over for Rita to argue with me.  The first time I met her, without shaking my hand or anything she pointed at my face and screamed “Healer!  Magical healer!”  Mumina came up agreeing with her and said some shit about how like thunderclouds my spirit is, said I’m “fuzzy prickly ticklish and makes you feel confused until you get him, all of a sudden, like a lightning bolt.”  I’m conflicted about how much I like the sound of that, but I wouldn’t call Mumina my friend.  Mainly because she agrees with Rita all the time.

Anyways, the day they came in with the video of that naked flying man getting captured by a cloud, Mumina and Rita both were saying that we needed to go set him free.  Amare’s eyes lit up and I knew she was going.  That meant that Thom was obviously going, because he still doesn’t get that she can’t get hurt.  He knows it, he just doesn’t get it.  Rita looked at me, and smiled.  I fucking hate how she looks at you like that, like she’s right and you’re wrong, even though you didn’t even say anything.

I grunted.  Not at her, just in general.  “Yeah, fuck it, I’ll go.”

Mumina and Rita both giggled in their horsey stupid way.  Thom might have noticed, but didn’t say anything.  Amare didn’t notice shit, just shook my arm talking about how we were going to fight a cloud monster and figure out how to fly.  She loves anything that could probably get you killed.