I dozed off for a little while but soon became restless again. I tried doing jumping jacks and running on the spot and even a handful of push-ups, but the enthusiasm to do any of these things without coiling simply wasn't there. Even more frustrated than when I started I went back to my bed and sat down.
George entered B-9. He was humming a nothing tune to himself as he made a beeline for his own bed. He gave a deep, throaty sigh as he sat down. The deepness of his voice in comparison to his skinny frame was uncanny.
"Hey," I mumbled, not knowing how I was going to approach talking with him about what happened earlier.
"Hey," said George, not meeting my gaze as he fretted about the position of his pillow. He slipped off his plimsolls and rubbed his feet, sighing again.
"Not very comfortable are they?" I said.
Mine had been taken off for over an hour since entering B-9.
"Yeah," said George, "I hate the colour too. So tacky."
"Yeah," I mumbled back, not really knowing what to say.
It was getting chilly so I grabbed my thin blanket and wrapped it around me. George did the same.
"I can put up with a lot," I said, "But the worst thing about being here is the boredom."
"Yeah," said George, "There's nothing to do."
"Maybe they'll let us have a TV in here," I said.
Then, jokingly, I said, "Could sit back and watch Ruff Rover all day."
George came to life all of a sudden.
"Oh my gosh," he said, "You like Ruff Rover?"
"Heck yeah I do," I said, meaning it, "I used to have a huge stuffed Rover plush growing up."
"Have you seen Terror at Zombie Farm?" said George.
My own excitement on this topic tripled when he said this.
"It's my favourite Ruff Rover movie!" I said, "After the live action that came out in the mid-two-thousands."
"The late nineties-to-early-two-thousands era of Ruff Rover movies is so good," said George, "It was a total renaissance."
"Couldn't agree more, mate," I said, "The one where the gang meet the aliens in the desert is pretty great, and the one with the witch in the community that 'larps' as witches; they were on another level compared to the rest of the series."
George and I continued back and forth like this, sharing our enthusiasm for the cartoon dog Ruff Rover and his human friends going around fighting monsters and thwarting evil schemes. George knew way more than me about the Ruff Rover movies, and TV shows, which made it all the more interesting for me to talk about them with him.
"So you like cartoons?" I said.
"Oh yeah," said George, "I want to be a cartoonist; that and a comic book artist, concept artist, etcetera."
"That's awesome," I said, "I used to draw manga myself. Always loved it."
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"Used to?" said George.
"Oh, I mean, I stopped," I said, "I didn't really have the talent for it."
"That's a shame," said George.
"I just had to admit to myself that I didn't really enjoy drawing all that much," I said, "Like, I just wanted the finished drawing but I never really was fascinated by the way I was meant to move the pencil to make this or that line. I think to be really good I would need that kind of enthusiasm."
"I know what you mean," said George, "I feel the same way but I work through it; there are people way more talented than me and who probably have way more fun drawing, but I just want to tell my stories and make the kind of art I like. If that means having to put in the long hours to get there I figure it's worth it."
I nodded. "Wish I had that kind of work ethic," I said, "Maybe if I had some talent for it I might've tried harder with it."
"That sounds a bit like a cop out," said George, "To be honest."
"Maybe," I said, "When I was fourteen there was a boy at school called Carlisle that was an absolute beast at drawing. He was only about fifteen and he could draw like a professional manga-ka. This one time my art teacher invited a handful of us students that were interested in drawing manga to see Carlisle draw and show off what he could do on a lunch break. He drew a character from that pirate show, Moon Scar; the one with the purple hair–"
"Oh yeah!" said George, "The Demon Warrior."
"Yeah," I said, "Anyway, Carlisle drew this amazing drawing of The Demon Warrior in a few minutes with a felt pen and it looked better than anything I could ever do. He gave me the drawing to keep actually. I held onto it for a few years. I don't know if he was just way more enthusiastic about manga and that's why he was so good, or if it was just talent. Or both."
"Probably a bit of both," said George.
"Is there any other shows you like?" I said.
"Do you ever watch Tilly-Anne movies?" said George.
"You mean the girl's doll?" I said, "Didn't they make like fifty straight-to-video CGI movies?"
"Yes!" said George, his eyes going wide as if he were on a drug, "I love them."
A solid hour followed of George and I talking about Tilly-Anne and her movies and TV shows.
Tilly-Anne was one of the most bought children's dolls in the whole world, and the straight-to-video movies they released had Tilly-Anne starring in reimagined fairy tales, but with the model-esque, strawberry-hair-coloured Tilly-Anne as the heroine.
"What's your favourite?" I asked George, less because I particularly cared, but more because it was nice letting him talk about something he was so passionate about.
"The Cinderella duology," said George without hesitation, "In the first one it's just a remake of the classic story, but in the second one it goes way more into the lives of the wicked step-sisters. One of them gets redeemed. She falls in love with this blacksmith with a heart of gold. It's just so…"
George made a 'chef's kiss' gesture.
Neither of us spoke for about a minute, and then, without me bringing it up, George said, "I'm sorry you had to see that earlier. I was having a panic attack."
"It's okay," I said, "What happened?"
"Nothing, like, happened," said George, "I mean, besides all this."
He gestured around B-9, summing up not just our current living situation, but the entire evacuation and coming to the facility too.
"The anxiety builds up and after a while I can't ignore it anymore," said George.
"When I was working at the kiosk I could feel that I was going to have a panic attack so I went into the back and just sat down in the corner. When you came in and the lights turned on it just…flipped a switch. I had been holding it back but I just couldn't after that. I'm sorry."
"No mate, it's fine," I said.
I had more questions but I figured George could tell me about what was going on with him in his own time.
"You know," I said, "My friend Tiffany managed to buy some nicotine gum from Mike. He put in an order for her. Maybe we could ask Mike for a TV or something similar to watch movies on? It would probably cost us a fair bit of money from what we're getting paid, but hey, if we're going to be stuck here for the next couple of weeks then it might be worth it."
"Sure," said George, "Did you want to go find him now?"
"I don't see why not," I said, "Want to go together?"
"Okay," said George.
He shrugged off his blanket, wedged his feet back into his plimsolls, and stood up. I did the same.
"Alright, let's go," I said, "George and Burgess and the quest to find Mike begins."
George chuckled and we left B-9 together.