There was a darkness in these men I both responded to and was able to see past to something more underneath. I kept asking myself why both Letter Men chose me, and now I had to ask if it’s because they saw darkness in me too.
Jacques came down into the kitchen while the sun was still rising. He didn’t say another number at the sight of me, so I guessed sitting out, leaning on the doghouse, was allowed.
“You couldn’t sleep either?”
He slowed, cast me an unreadable look, and continued on. I watched him move around the kitchen, setting up the blender.
“What’s in that shake you make?”
I didn’t expect him to answer. I was mostly just talking at him after too long a night in my head.
“Kale, spinach, banana, cucumber, apple juice, and cocoa nibs,” he replied.
“Wow. That sounds... gross.”
He made a noise in his throat. Was that a laugh?
“Can I try it?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he repeated. “Starvation isn’t a part of your punishment. Besides, it is only logical to consume a diet that provides the maximum nutritional value in every meal.”
“Sure, but everything doesn’t have to be logical, does it?”
“Explain.”
“Well, uh.” My goodness, is this the longest conversation I’ve had with Jacques that doesn’t include fighting?
“Comfort food, for example,” I said. “Hot, greasy, salty, fried loveliness. We all know it’s not good for us, but when you had a terrible day, it makes you feel better to veg on the couch with buttery popcorn. Couldn’t you say the positive impact on your mental health is worth it? What good is it being the healthiest man on earth, if you can’t enjoy the little things in life?”
“Interesting theory.” Jacques threw a handful of spinach in the blender. “The production of dopamine and serotonin from junk food derives its own benefits in regards to stress relief. Stress itself is a negative factor toward health, so the pros and cons should be weighed,” he said. “Your supposition has merit.”
My brows shot up my forehead. Did he just say I was right in genius-speak?
“Although,” Jacques continued. “The continued overproduction of dopamine lessens its impact on the human body. Therefore, to reach the same high, we must consume more and more junk food. Leading to addiction.”
“Absolutely the ‘eating junk food to feel better’ idea can only go so far. But that’s why we say everything in moderation. You can drink your green smoothies every day, but once a week, eating your favorite maple donut can do you some good too.”
“I agree with your reasoning.”
Holy hell. That was definitely genius-speak for you’re right.
I studied him. “What’s it like in your head, Jacques?”
“I’ve been asked that question many times.”
“I’m sorry. Does it make you uncomfortable?”
Now he studied me—a long, probing look that made me shift on my dog bed. “Now that question, no one has ever asked me.”
“Curiosity can make people insensitive. We forget just because we want to know something, it doesn’t mean we treat people like animals in a zoo.”
“Yes, courtesy is often discarded in favor of intrusiveness,” he agreed. “But to answer your question, no. It doesn’t bother me. I understand humans are naturally curious beings. They seek to understand so they can categorize. Labels make people comfortable. Once I was given the title genius, people felt less uneasy around the small child spouting facts he shouldn’t know or understand.”
Jacques spoke about people like we were a different species. To be called humans was better than cattle, though it made me wonder if it stemmed from people treating him differently.
You’re doing it again, de Souza. Trying to make a wounded bird out of an emotionally closed-off man.
“I can’t speak to what it’s like in other people’s minds, but the closest comparison I can think of is a warehouse of file cabinets,” Jacques said. “Some are small, labeled, and near the entrance. Others are miles back and ten stories high. Every event, detail, fact, and the resulting conclusions I’ve made or experienced in my life are in the cabinets, but I do not have an eidetic memory. I cannot recall them at will.
“I have to build systems, networks, and shortcuts to get through the maze. I create ladders to get the information high above me. It is not a simple process, nor is it painless,” he said. “But to disregard sections of it like others can is impossible.” Jacques touched his temples. “I can feel it. Always. Every day. Every minute. My life will not be deleted.”
“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” I said softly.
Jacques hit puree on the blender. It seemed our conversation was over.
I watched him while he made his breakfast, and a few times he glanced up and looked back at me. Smoothies done, he brought over two mason jars and handed me mine.
It was disgusting, just as predicted. He must’ve used unsweetened dark chocolate nibs, because they made the situation worse. Even so, we slurped in an almost companionable silence. I wouldn’t say I understood Jacques Stone completely, but in one thing I could relate.