by Mark Heyer
“He needs something,” said Neery.
“I know, I’m racking my brains over here,” said Klein.
”What about some robotics, replacement parts?”
“Nah. Nothing mechanical. He’s a hero, not a science project.”
“A hero and soon-to-be world leader. What about a war wound? He could have a back story from a war experience.”
“People will fact-check that.”
“Doubt it. Not in time to do them any good.”
“You know what would work? A scar.”
“I don’t know, Klein. A scar? What kind of scar?”
“Combat. Like you said. Or maybe he stopped a mugging. Maybe he kept some guys from robbing his grandma. Or someone else’s grandma. But definitely a grandma.”
“Yeah, ok, I’m starting to like that. What ever happened to scars? People don’t get them anymore. What’s up with that?”
“They get tattoos. Once they stopped getting scars they started getting tattoos.”
“Yeah but why’d they stop getting them? Scars, I mean.”
“Medical advances probably. You know. Back in the day, you get nicked up a little – boom – you got a scar. Now they close ’em better, hide ’em. No one ever knows. That’s why you can go from an a-cup to a d-cup without much trouble. No scars. But you’d have to move away someplace where they don’t remember you. You thinking about getting a d-cup, Neery?”
“Maybe when we’re done here. So, more about this scar?
“Chin is best. Just a little notch. Or under the eye. Those are your choices. Anything else gets people filling in the blanks all wrong.”
“Exactly. A scar on the cheek? What’s that? Someone’s angry husband probably. Or somebody caught you ripping them off and hit you with whatever was handy.”
“Ok, but our guy, he’s not poor right? He’s not too old either. You got a scar, right way people think you couldn’t get to a decent doctor or you’re from back when no one bothered with it. That’s the problem with scars. They’re being phased out.”
“Right, but this is just a nick. He stood his ground. You look at him and you can tell – he threw the last punch. That’s what we want. We want people to finish the story the right way.”
“Or maybe it was some kind of daredevil s***. Just some stuff, you know, taking physical chances.”
“Either way, he got it because he’s got balls, right? That’s the most important part. Our guy isn’t a victim. He isn’t just standing there and the world happens to him. Like that guy, who was that guy, the one that got fried taking a picture of a volcano out west? You know the guy.”
“Dumbass.”
“Exactly. That guy is not our guy. Our guy gets the shot. He gets the shot, gets a little spritz with the lava and gets away.”
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as a little spritz with lava, but I’m with you, Neery. Our guy is not a clown. He’s a doer. He gets in there, gets it done, gets a scar for his trouble. Price of doing business.”
“Our guy being our guy.”
“Right. You got any scars, Neery? Scratch that, you got any scar stories?”
“I don’t. I mean, you know, I did some stuff. I’m here, aren’t I? I could have gotten a scar. Lucked out I guess. What about you, Mr Klein?”
“I gotta pencil tip stuck in my palm. Still there. Does that count? You don’t get hurt much doing this.”
“Not so far. But that’s the thing right? The story. He’s gotta have a story. He forgets it until someone asks him about the scar. Lady friend. Even then, he’s like, he’s not gonna talk about it.”
“Not our guy. Does he have any tattoos?”
“Hell no. Don’t need ’em. The world comes to him. Takes a bite. He doesn’t need to make himself into a canvas to make up for a lack of experience.”
“Nope.”
“What about in the side? He could have something in his side.”
“We don’t want something he has to be undressed for.”
“But they could meet at a beach or something.”
“They? Who’s ‘they’? Help me. Moses and Allah, work something out and help me. He might not meet anyone. Can’t be any dependent circumstance. One on the chin or under the eye. You meet him, you see it, you get a vibe. It’s all right there in the first 3 seconds.”
“Right. Makes sense. What about an auxiliary scar for later?”
“Maybe. But our guy isn’t a punching bag right? I mean how cut up is he?”
“Two is doable, Klein. One youthful indiscretion, one heroic sorta thing.”
“Not too heroic. He’s gotta move among us, right? He’s gotta live in this world. You can’t feel like he can’t have a beer with you because halfway through he’s gonna need to take out an assassin.”
“Nope. But, let’s think about it though. One scar can get hapless. Just stumbled into it. Doesn’t say anything about him. Every dumbass has one scar.”
“Or it’s who he once was but isn’t now. You know, like ‘I had it once, and it’s gone now. Now I’m careful as f***.'”
“Right, right. That’s most guys. ‘I had it. I let it go.’”
“’Slipped through my fingers.’”
“’Not who I am now. The guy you’re talking to now is someone else. Let’s go to Olive Garden.’”
“Yeah, ‘Let’s go to f***ing Olive Garden.’”
“Face it. A man needs two scars. A real man? Two scars.”
“Our guy is a real man.”
“He’s got two scars then.”
“Damn straight. Do people call him Two Scars?”
“Nah. He’s down-low about it. You don’t ask, he don’t tell.”
“Is either one sad?”
“Sad?”
“Connected to loss. Maybe he was trying to save someone but couldn’t.”
“We don’t want him all moony.”
“Yeah, but we don’t want him like some kind of scar-magnet freak show seeking to damage himself for no particular reason.”
“He’s not a thrill seeker, our guy.”
“Nope.”
“Not a candy ass either.”
“Candy-free ass, our guy. No preservatives, no candy.”
“Maybe he tried to save someone who didn’t want to be saved.”
“That’s just like him.”
“Some people don’t, you know. They want to drown. Go under, be left alone.”
“I like being alone.”
“Me too, Klein.”
“I’m fine alone.”
“Same here? What am I missing?”
“Not a thing.”
“What if our guy wanted to save you?”
“Save me how? From what?”
“This.”
“Definitely would not like it, Neery.”
“I’m not bothering anybody.”
“Not a soul.”
“And along comes this guy? I don’t think so.”
“Who does he think he is?”
“I don’t need some clown intervention out of some misguided hero complex.”
“What about this? What about we have our guy try to save someone like you?
1“Keep going.”
“Gets scar number two doing it.”
“Lucky that’s all he got.”
“No, no, wouldn’t say that. He’s the hero.”
“Not to me.”
“I’m with you, Neery, but for our purposes, he is. You have to leave yourself out of it. Your real self. This isn’t about your real self.”
“Yeah, I’m out.”
“But same idea. He’s saving someone, they’re not into it, poof, scar.”
“Poof.”
“Do they die?”
“That’s a tough one.”
“If they die, it could be too sad. He could be too sad.”
“If they live, aren’t they stuck with each other? And the guy who didn’t want to get saved is kind of a douche.”
“Major douche.”
“People will actually call him that.”
“’Captain Douche just got promoted.’”
“’Meet Major Douche.’”
“That’s gotta suck though. You wanna be left alone and some guy is using you for his second scar. Who the f*** does he think he is?”
“That’s it!”
“What?”
“You solved the problem.”
“What’s my solution?”
“Third scar. Our guy needs a third scar.”
“Third scar!”
“An even number of scars is a disaster. Both two and four. Two is obnoxious, four is just plain uncoordinated. Three is the number.”
”Always is.”
“It’s tied to the second scar.”
“Yes, the second. But not the first.”
“Right, first is standalone. It’s our guy becoming our guy.”
“Second one is him making a reach.”
“A reach.”
“The third one makes him him. Our guy officially.”
“How does he get it?”
“Almost doesn’t matter, Mr Neery.”
“Not really, Mr Klein.”
“Just don’t stop at two.”
“No, keep going. And don’t get four.”
“Four is for morons.”
“Our guy is not a moron.”
“He is a hero and soon-to-be global leader. You said it yourself, Neery.”
“I said ‘world leader’. I don’t know about global leader. Too conquest-y.”
“Good point. World leader.”
A shaft of light sliced in through the wire mesh of the high window to the strewn table. Klein moved the piece of sea glass to catch and re-direct it at the wall. Neery marked both changes with the pencil.
“All the sudden I’m hungry for bread sticks, Klein.”
“Don’t say it. Me too.”
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