Oscar rose before the city opened its eyes, getting dressed as the stars in the night sky blended into the morning’s soft, creamy lilac hues. He wore a striped button up shirt, a brown ribbed cardigan, black tapered chino pants, white canvas sneakers, and matching white tote bag. Comfortable enough to ride the bus for an extended amount of time, unremarkable enough to not stand out, and smart enough to look presentable, should he run into Mona.
“Act like it’s a coincidence.” He coached himself, walking through the cool morning breeze, catching the city rats make their final rounds through the bags of trash left overnight. Turning left at the corner of his apartment’s main entrance, continuing five blocks, and making a right for another six blocks until ending up at Main Street Station, Oscar boarded the bus. He made sure he was headed in the same orientation that would have taken Mona home, and double-checked his tote, looking for his sharpened pencils, notebook, water bottle, and a few tin foil-wrapped tuna sandwiches.
Reflecting on the situation, Oscar switched gears, moving from the mundane to the extraordinary. He decided to document any fellow freaks he would find on the bus along with him. Contrary to popular opinion, the term Freak did not fall under any scientific or medical classification, and was initially a nickname adopted by frequent users of the online dating app, FreakFinder, a nomenclature which eventually made its way into the vernacular of everyday people. They were simply humans with abnormalities. These abnormalities—animal body parts, additional appendages, extraordinarily sized body parts, et cetera—were no different than more common deviations of the default human form, common examples being: third nipples, missing wisdom teeth, or a mole under your chin. Really, it is uncommon to run into or even notice a freak going about your day-to-day business. But if you wait long enough, and keep an eye out, you’re always bound to find a few, like looking out for shooting stars on a clear night.
Crossing his legs and placing the notebook on his lap, Oscar titled his first page, “Finding the Freaks”.
Nine A.M.—OLD MAN WITH PIXIE WINGS
An old man with pixie wings appeared around nine A.M. Somewhere between his sixties or seventies, wearing a fedora, white Havana shirt, gray slacks, and a pair of dark brown penny loafers. What made him unique: a pair of translucent wings sprouting from his back. The wings seemed delicate, covered in thin veins. They could possibly be insect wings, belonging to a dragonfly, cricket, or mosquito. But something about them compelled me to call them pixie wings, likely due to the way they were attached to a human and how they shimmered slightly under the correct lighting. The man stood in the middle of the bus, hugging a pole, shaking and wobbling with every stop-and-go of the bus. I offered him my seat, but he politely declined, explaining that he couldn’t risk misplacing his wings as they could easily be torn or damaged by a stray purse, bookbag, or someone taking a seat too close and sitting on them. I couldn’t help but sympathize with him: a struggle unique only to the few created just like him. And on the way out, he nodded at me and smiled, sprinkling dust from his wings with every step he took coming off the bus.
THREE P.M.—BOY WITH CROCODILE HEAD
A young boy, probably in late middle school or early high school. Carrying a large backpack, wearing khaki pants, and with his school logo printed on the breast pocket of his navy-blue polo. What made him unique: an alligator head with a long, wide snout of approximately three to four feet in length. He struggled to make his way through the crowded bus, turning his head in multiple directions to avoid bumping into other passengers. Eventually, he took a seat towards the middle, and uncapped a stick of lip balm from his pocket. He rapidly twisted the stick until nearly all of the lip balm was exposed, and carefully traced it along the edges of his mouth, right above his jagged rows of exposed teeth, before reaching the tip of his snout, and passing over the stick to his other hand and finishing his lip-moisturizing technique. Soon thereafter, he reached into his backpack and pulled out a paperback book titled ‘The Adventures of Marlon the Mormon Marmot’. Removing his bookmark, the boy opened his book and rested it atop his long snout. Naturally, he wouldn’t be able to place the book in his lap as his snout would obscure the view. Minutes passed, and eventually, the bus came to a stop near the city center. Startled, the boy realized he nearly missed his stop, and scrambled to run out of the bus, bumping into multiple people with his snout, knocking over two pairs of glasses, and a pair of loose headphones off of a passengers’ heads, before apologizing profusely and hopping out the door.
SIX P.M.—OLD WOMAN WITH LARGE EARS
The oldest freak I’ve ever seen. Possibly in her eighties. Pale skin covered in blue veins. Her hands adorned with jeweled rings on every finger, of every color. Her wrists, covered in bands and metal bracelets, nearly up to her elbows. Her nails, covered by two-inch-long French tips, with hot-pink accents, with a matching hot-pink bob with bangs, hot-pink lipstick, and a hot-pink dress covered in white polka dots. Her face, largely covered by white circular glasses with impenetrable black lenses. Her neck, carrying multiple white pearl necklaces, ranging in length and size. On her feet, two hot-pink rain boots, long enough to hide her legs beneath her dress skirt. What made her unique: two large ears, each with a diameter of about ten inches. They were large, firm, and perfectly circular. Along the edges, the woman had countless piercings in her ears, from which she hung various hoops, dangling chains, and jeweled studs. Some metallic; some featuring precious gems. On the flat part of her left ear, a tattoo with the quote: “Vanity of Vanities, All is Vanity. Ecclesiastes 12:8” in long black cursive letters. On the flat part of her right ear, a tattoo with the quote: “BEAUTY IS MY CROSS TO CARRY”, in thick black gothic font, and a thick black cross tattooed underneath. Upon closer look, her ear lobes were not pierced, and only about the size of a dime. Every part of her jingled as she walked, until she eventually sat down gracefully towards the entrance of the bus, crossed her legs, and placed both hands on one knee. I couldn’t tell what she was looking at, due to the darkness and thickness of her lenses; however, I couldn’t help but guess that she boarded the bus with the pure intention of being looked at and admired. Nearly every single passenger stared or turned their necks as they walked by her, almost stumbling over each other on multiple occasions. She rode the bus for two entire loops, and got off where she started, without regarding or speaking to anyone.
Six thirty-two P.M., in the middle of unwrapping a tuna sandwich, Oscar saw his last freak of the day, starting with a familiar black boot stepping onto the bus, followed by another. Moving up, chewing his first bite, he admired a nice pair of legs, leading up to a puffy red jacket, and a familiar black mask, sitting below a pair of thick, black, rectangular shades, underneath a head of brown wavy hair.
Oscar’s heart raced as he watched her turn and face the back of the bus, instantly turning around at his sight, and fast walking away.
“Back door!” he shouted, dropping his sandwich and running off the bus after her, shouting: “Mona!”
She stepped quickly and loudly, with her arms crossed, turning sharp corners.
“Can we just talk?” he insisted, keeping up with her brisk pace.
Mona only huffed and turned another corner, accelerating her speed.
“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to ignore you. I promise.”
More steps, followed by loud huffs and rolling eyes.
“I rode the bus all day hoping to run into you.” He spoke, running out of breath, “And not in a creepy way. I promise. I just couldn’t remember your address. If I remembered, I would have shown up to your house with flowers.”
Another corner, followed by even louder footsteps.
“I got really mad and deleted your number after you left me at the park. And I couldn’t remember your phone number either. And I really wanted to see you, so this was my only choice.”
Mona turned abruptly to face him, arms still crossed, face turned red.
“You deleted my number?” she started, “And you couldn’t even remember ten little numbers?”
“I—” Oscar started.
“I’m not done. Let me finish talking.”
Oscar nodded.
“986 662 4252” Mona repeated. “It has a six, six, six, remember? You even made a whole comment about it. So, you really only had to remember seven numbers. Really, Oscar?”
He gulped as she continued.
“And I bet you can’t even begin to remember my address, right? Not even the street?”
Oscar shrugged meekly.
“You are so, so, stupid.” Mona rolled her eyes and shook her head disappointedly. “I made it so easy for you. We’re literally right here.” Mona turned back and indicated a plaque outside a white building reading ‘121 Northeast 170th Street’.
“Ohhh, yeah, 170th street.” Oscar nodded.
“I hate you so much.” Mona sighed, unlocking the front door, and walking into the lobby. Oscar stared at her through the glass door as it slammed shut in front of him, watching her storm up the stairs, before returning a few seconds later.
“You’re just going to stand there staring at me like an idiot?”
“I don’t know!” Oscar raised his hands exasperated, “It didn’t seem like you were so happy about me waiting for you on the bus. I wasn’t about to follow you up to your apartment. I can’t do two creepy things in one day!”
Mona slapped her forehead, “Oscar. I literally walked you to my house. I’m not just going to go back up without you.”
Oscar rubbed his chin pensively and asked, “So, you’re telling me that you forgive me then?”
Mona crossed her arms and tapped her feet, “Honestly, I did forgive you… I like that you found a way to find me. I’ve never had a guy find me like that before. But… since you’re such a dumb boy, I’m not sure if I’m ready to forgive you anymore. Your Mush title is on the line.”
Oscar rolled his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I want you to do something for me. Then, I’ll forgive you.”
“What do you want me to do?”
Mona smirked and pointed at the ground with her chin, “Get on your knees.”
“What?”
“I said what I said. Get on your knees and beg really hard for me to forgive you.”
Oscar scoffed, “No!”
Mona held up a finger, “And… it needs to sound genuine. I need to feel how much you want me to forgive you. I give you permission to kiss my boots while you’re at it.”
Oscar stared at her with a deadpan expression. Mona stared back, continuing to tap her feet.
“No!” Oscar repeated, “I already waited for you on the bus all day. I was there for like twelve hours. I’m not going to get on my knees and beg for you.”
Mona dropped her shoulders and stomped her foot. “Fine…” she pouted at him, “I’ll make an exception since it’s only your first mistake. You’re still a Mush.”
Oscar breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a wave of warmth rush over him. Walking up to the front steps of her apartment, Mona giggled. “I didn’t really expect you to bow down to me. I just wanted to see if you would do it.”
“Ha-ha.” Oscar rolled his eyes.
“I don’t really want you here right now. I don’t have time to hang out.” Said Mona, walking into her bedroom, leaving Oscar waiting by the entrance.
“Then why did you go through all of this to let me in?”
“Because, silly,” Mona peaked her head out the door, no longer wearing a mask and smiling, “I’m going to throw a party tonight. I need to prepare.”
“Oh, that’s nice… but what does that have to do with me?”
“Well, if you’re really, really, sorry about what you did, I thought you could do me a teeny tiny favor…”
Oscar’s tentacles drooped. “What now?”
“I was going to go buy liquor for the party, and that’s why I stepped out. But I’m running late, and I haven’t figured out what to wear yet. And I haven’t even started getting ready yet. So… Do you think you could bring some for me tonight?”
Oscar looked at Mona’s smiling face peeking out the door, his heart melting by the red, heart-shaped lipstick painted on her beak.
“Sure.”
“Yay!!” Mona exclaimed, running over and hugging Oscar, kissing him on the cheek. “You’re the best. Now I totally forgive you.”
“How many bottles should I bring?”
“Here. Whatever this can get you.” Mona placed a crumpled wad of cash in Oscar’s hand. “Make it varied, no whiskey—none of my friends like whiskey. That should be a little under two-hundred dollars.”
Oscar shrugged and couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of Mona’s way of functioning. “Sure thing, crazy lady.”
“Okay.” Said Mona, kissing him on the cheek. “See you at eleven. Here.”
“121 Northeast 170th Street, Apartment 403.” Said Oscar, “I won’t forget it this time.”
Mona hugged Oscar tightly and pushed him out the door. “Okay, enough. Get out. I’ll see you later. Bye.”
“Bye.” Oscar waved, as Mona slammed the door loudly. “See you soon.” He smiled every step of the way to the liquor store.