“How to be Normal”

“Get stoned for the rest of your life.”

Quinn blinked for a few moments, completely taken aback.

“W-what?”

Her mentor shrugged as he faced the setting sun.

“That’s the secret, kiddo: you just get stoned and stay stoned for the rest of your life. That’s the only way anybody can stand being ‘normal’ for any stretch of time,” he added rather bitterly. He glanced at the half empty whiskey bottle dangling from his fingers.

“Of course,” he added, his eyes suddenly brightening, “that’s only after you’ve decided what ‘normal’ means to you.”

Quinn Harlow thought about this as she turned her gaze back to the sun sinking behind the ocean. A soft, salty breeze gently tussled the loose tawny braid slung over her shoulder, and she closed her eyes - trying again to imagine what it meant to be “normal.”

It certainly meant not chasing after monsters every other week.

It meant that her biggest concern would be deciding on what college she wanted to go to, instead of worrying about “the end of the world” now facing them.

(“Only the sixth time this decade,” according to Pallas…)

Being normal probably meant that she’d have a tighter group of friends, all exactly her own age, whom she would spend all her free time with. Going to sleepovers and parties, school dances and games; taking long trips out of town or short trips to the mall.

Or just talking on the phone, about nothing in particular- only just to say “hi.”

“It’s the people that make it hardest for me,” Gustave suddenly admitted. Startled Quinn jumped, then immediately turned pink embarrassed that she had flinched.

“Oh?” she uttered, turning her face only slightly away. Gustave, meanwhile, simply stared straight into the sea.

“M-hm. I don’t know how to tell my story to people who don’t know what it’s like to be me. At least not outside the Corps.,” he added with a shrug.

Quinn furrowed her brow and asked, “what makes them so different? I mean, between the corps and outsiders?” Gustave smiled slightly as he recited:

“‘Everybody comes from something here’ - but normies… well- they like to pretend that they don’t.

“And then, they make you feel bad for being honest about your baggage,” he then took a swig from the bottle, downing a little more than half of what remained. Quinn eyed him cautiously, worried what his sudden thirst signaled for the near future. Was he really that scared about the trial?

“Then again Roshca says that it’s completely objective,” Gustave continued. “Being ‘normal’ is all about how you look at things.”

“That sounds like something she’d say,” Quinn smiled. She followed his gaze back out to the ocean, reflecting on what Lori had said only a few years earlier:

“It’s hard to ride two horses with one ass, love- but that doesn’t mean it can’t be done.”

“Nothing’s impossible in the Corps,” Quinn murmured to the memory. Gustave scoffed.

“Well, almost nothing,” he replied. He raised the bottle to his lips and killed it in one single swallow. Quinn watched him let out a satisfied belch before slumping slightly against the rail of the pier, the glass catching and reflecting the last vestiges of daylight.

“I- I wish you wouldn’t do that,” Quinn offered hesitantly. “You know you don’t have to do that,”

“And deprive myself of a tragic end? Never!” Gustave chuckled.

“Besides- cirrhosis of the liver seems like a better alternative compared to what waits for me tomorrow…”

Quinn watched him helplessly, his profile vanishing into the dark hues of the encroaching night. She wanted to tell him that everything was gonna be okay. That they’ll see- no one can possibly convict him, once his truth came out.

But maybe- that’s what he’s afraid of…

Quinn instead reached for his free hand draped limply across the railing. His wrist flinched slightly despite his best efforts to hide it, but ultimately he allowed her small, thin fingers to slip gently into his. She gave them a little squeeze as student and teacher stared out into the dark horizon.

“Gus? Quinn!” called a voice from behind. Quinn looked over her shoulder and noticed Lori standing on the corner just outside the bar. Her long chestnut hair hung loosely over her shoulders, and she crossed her arms tightly over her chest as if cold.

Suddenly she saw them and a bright smile instantly lit up her face. She waved them back over, enticing them to join their friends as they plotted Gustave’s salvation.

“We should get back,” Quinn sighed before straightening and stretching her back.

“I’d rather drink alone, to be honest,” Gustave muttered, somewhat stumbling over his words. Quinn glanced at the empty bottle still in his hand.

“Drink what?” He held up the bottle and thought for a moment before nodding his head.

“Touché,” he then raised it high over head preparing to launch it far into the ocean.

“Don’t choo even think about it!” Lori screamed revealing her southern twang.

Gustave frozen in mid-throw but gave his protege a sly, sideways look. Then he winked and spun around on his heel.

“Alright, fair enough!” he replied before sauntering back to the choir of drunken laughter. Quinn didn’t follow at first, but instead hung back to watch the old friends toss their quips at each other.

She thought about her brief conversation with Gustave, once again racking her brain to understand exactly what it meant to be “normal.”

Being normal meant she could probably marry one day- having kids to run around with, just watching them grow up.

It certainly meant no more magic, or maniacs, or chaos dotting every hidden corner of her life…

“Hey! Canary-Bird!” Lori called up from up the street. She supported a wobbly Gustave who struggled to keep his head up. “All the fun’s up in here!” and Quinn smiled as she raced back to the bar.

Suddenly she was glad that she didn’t know how the meaning of the word.