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Duke doesn't call ahead to place a takeout order. He still hasn't internalized that part of the process. Instead, a red pickup faded out to a pink brick tone rattles up in front of Joy Fong and slides into a fortuitously opened space.
Duke hops out and is immediately and obviously out of place. He looks like he walked out of a dimestore Western novel — possibly as one of the darker villains of the piece. There's nothing unpleasant about his demeanor, though. He glances around, satisfied with his navigation, and sets off for the front door of Joy Fong at a lazy saunter.
The October dusk is cool and calm — there's none of the chaos and misery of Hell's Kitchen. It's been a good day and this is a good place. He checks his pockets for a slip of paper which, when he finds it to read it again, has strange notations on it.
*
After having been called to see a patient having a rather terrible panic attack, Binx sighs and starts walking toward the closest subway station. It's only after he starts passing a few restaurants that he realizes that he hasn't actually eaten since yesterday. Luckily Joy Fong restaurant is nearby. It's a place he likes to go to, when he can.
Slipping in right behind Duke, he gives a little wave to the person behind the register. He's been here frequently enough that his face is at least recognized. "What to order…" He mutters to himself as he snags a cleaned peach pit from his pocket, which he proceeds to roll between his fingers while he thinks.
*
Duke orders, reading off the paper he's holding. Whatever's on there isn't English, or anything else anyone has ever seen, and the young woman at the register listens carefully, then answers him in Cantonese. Spare ribs with black bean sauce, brisket, rice, lo mein… this is an order for at least six people. Or, three very hungry people and a large dog.
"No, not in a hurry," Duke says easily. There are some seats near the front. He'll wait.
*
"Hi!" Binx says brightly, approaching the young woman, once she's returned from putting in Duke's order. "Yes. I'll have an order of ride, chicken in black bean sauce, chow mein, and uh…nope, that's it! Thank you!" He takes out his wallet, places down some cash, and then turns around to look for a seat.
Glancing at Duke, and the seats near where he is, Binx motions next to him. "Do you mind if I have a seat?" He asks with an easy smile upon his face. He continues to roll the peach pit through his fingers as he walks and talks.
*
"Of course." Duke has been sat on by a new person recently so sitting beside is just fine. He's curious about the peach pit but doesn't ask — people have all manner of talismans. Part of him wishes he'd brought the dog, though. Coz is often better with people than he is, but dogs are not allowed in the restaurant.
Sitting means time to work so Duke pulls out a notebook — not the notebook — and a pencil to work on some chemical equations. He really needs to work out how to pull off this idea without blowing himself up.
*
"Thank you." Binx says brightly, nodding, taking his seat beside the man. Humming softly to himself as they each wait, he can't help but notice the notebook. After a few glances, and realizing what's in there, he smiles a little. "Chemistry, huh? Not an easy subject. The more deep into it you go, the more difficult it gets. Though I suppose you could say that regarding just about anything." He shrugs. "Had to study it, personally, as a part of medical school."
He clicks his tongue and lets out a whistle. "Learned all about chemistry, how it affects biology, and," he taps his forehead, "how the chemical makeup of the brain affects a person's behaviour." He clears his throat. "Sorry, I'm rambling, and you probably didn't want to know all that." He chuckles softly.
*
"This is inorganic, not my strong point." Duke holds the notebook out at arm's length, as though that will change anything. "That's still going to blow up," he adds sadly.
"Organic, drugs, medicine, bodies, that all makes sense. Inorganic things are like grabbing dust. The world used to be organic, all of it. I know that. Everything growing, everything green." Rambling is also a problem for Duke. He bites his lip, frowns darkly. "Now it's all metal and concrete, machines and glass. Biology labours under technology. Magic doesn't help, either." He squints at the chemistry notations again. "I don't want to make things worse."
*
"Inorganic was worse for me, too. Luckily I didn't need to learn much about inorganic chemistry." Binx eyes the chemical equations, raising an eyebrow. "Dust…dust I understand. Or at least some dust." He frowns. "None of us ever want to make things worse. Never. And I'm constantly under the impression that, if it makes something worse, it's not worth it."
Looking over Duke once more, Binx holds out his hand with the peach pit in it and says, "Hold out your hand for me."
*
Duke does, without hesitation. He gets himself into trouble this way. His hands are elegant but very roughened from work, showing nicks and burns. Even with healing, an afternoon of putting lead cores into white oak bullets left a mark or two.
*
Placing the peach pit in this man's hand, Binx smiles and says, "It sounds like you need something to help you think. And I've got just the thing." With both his hands now covering both the bottom and the top of Duke's hand, he closes his eyes for a moment. Duke will feel the obvious weight change and texture change in his hand as Binx's top hand moves further and further upwards.
Finally Binx opens his eyes and takes away his hands. In Duke's palm is a perfectly shaped peach. "Tada!" He says happily. "Something to eat while you wait for your order and to help you think."
*
Duke looks at it suspiciously, turns it over, looks like he's almost listening to it. "Magic," he says with certainty. "How else do you make a fruit that doesn't know a tree? Even the Garden doesn't do that. Unless you changed the time around it and turned it back to when it was a peach…" Apparently it's a better puzzle than the not-yet-invented Rubik's Cube. Duke stops, then gives Binx a narrow look. "What else can you grow?"
*
A little laugh emits from Binx as he shakes his head. "Call it magic if you'd like. Just a little trick I've learned through my years of gardening." Well, he really learned to garden because of his ability. But that's not something he advertises. "I definitely didn't make it go back in time." He shakes his head at the thought. "Oh, I've learned many little gardening tricks." Putting his hand in one of his pockets, he pauses for a moment and then pulls out a long stemmed paradise rose, that by all means should have been sticking out of his pocket, but wasn't. He holds it out to Duke with a smile.
*
Duke accepts the rose gingerly, sniffs it. "Not a trick. Well, not sleight of hand, I don't think. Real," he declares. He looks at the rose almost as though he's looking through it. "All structures working? I'd have to put it in something to be sure. When you make things, do they…work?" He puts the peach down in his lap long enough to braid the rose into his hair over one ear as though it's a completely normal thing to do. The effect is a bit charming.
"The chemistry." He holds the peach up again. "It's intact?" He bites into the peach to test it out. Tastes like it's doing what it should, yes.
*
"Some would certainly call it a trick." Binx responds, nodding slightly. "But I have my ways and they work well." He chuckles quietly and rubs the back of his neck. "They're complete, whole. It's just as if they were grown in a plot of soil." He tells the man in a hushed tone. He smiles as the rose is braided into the man's hair. "It looks good there, the rose. I like it. It suits you."
"The…the plants are normally intact, yes. They are as they should be. No issues." He explains. "A peach is a peach. A rose is a rose. A pine tree is a pine tree."
*
"You're a garden," Duke says, before he takes another bite of the peach. He gives Binx a delighted smile that makes his eyes bright. "Only you're walking around like a person. Do I know you? It seems as though I should know you." With his free hand, he tucks away his chemistry book in one pocket, then pulls a small ledger from the inside pocket of his jacket. "What's your name?"
*
Tilting his head, there's a sparkle in Binx's eyes at Duke's words. "I've never been called a garden before." He sounds genuinely touched at the sentiment, though. "I rather like the description, though." He shakes his head at the first question. "No. We've never met before. I'm Doctor Robert Marvin Binx. Though most people, just call me Binx."
*
If anyone knows gardens, it's Duke. He makes a careful note in the book, which is quite full of his neat, strange script. It's a little uncomfortable to look at, as though the text is resisting being understood.
"I forget things," Duke explains. "And people. Mostly if I don't see them for a long time. But it bothers people, to be forgotten, so I try to write them down. Sometimes, I lose the book, and have to start over." He gives Binx another smile when he looks up from the book, not distressed but certainly a little sad.
"Raphael Duke." He tucks the book away so he can offer Binx a handshake. "Most people just go with Duke. Certainly not a doctor of anything, but I do make people better."
*
"You forget things?" Binx furrows his brow, listening. "You know, there are some mental exercises that you could do that might help with that." Pointing at the small book, he says, "That's definitely a good way to go about it, though." He says softly. Reaching out his own hand to shake Duke's, he nods. "It's certainly a pleasure to meet you, Duke. You don't need to be a doctor to help people. You just have to be a good person and know a few things that help."
*
"I know plants." Duke gestures with what's left of the peach. "And drugs. Medicines. I make a lot of medicine. It seems to help people. You should come see my garden. I wish I could do what you do. I don't usually wish that, it's just that I wouldn't have to drive so much to get what I need if I could do what you do. I'm usually happy being me." He tilts his head, thinking about that. "Of course, not remembering a lot of things probably helps with that. Hard to regret what you don't remember. But you should come."
*
"You know plants? I know plants! Which…I guess is obvious now. With two people who know about plants, drugs, and medicine, I bet we could help lots of people." Binx chuckles happily, patting Duke on the shoulder. And maybe, just maybe, he can actually help this man with his memory problems. Yes, it will be probono work. Yes, it will probably be off the books, but being a doctor isn't all about the money. He likes helping people. "I'd like that…to see your garden, that is."
Shaking his head, Binx says, "Doing what I can do is useful, but being able to help people is really what matters here. If you've got your own talents, I say be happy for them, and use them to the best of your ability. I'm sure I'll find that there are things you are capable of that I'm jealous of as well."
*
"Tonight is probably not good. Unless you like hunting vampires." Duke finishes the peach, then considers the stone. "I've been making weapons all day, with friends. Not everyone is suited for hunting and fighting. Those that aren't, need protecting." He gives Binx a warm smile. "That, too, I can do."
*
"Hunting vampires?!" That's a new one for Binx. "Unless there's plants around I can use, I'm not sure how useful I'd be. But…" Glancing around to make sure nobody is paying particular attention to them, he smiles and holds open his pocket. "I have skills that can occasionally help the defence of others." The peach pit floats up off of Duke's hand and into his pocket. "That's just another little sample." He gives Duke a little wink. If he helps defend people…he could be like a superhero! Like that green guy. Or Captain America! Maybe he should help defeat these 'vampires' that Duke is talking about.
*
"Plants are vital for hunting vampires." Duke watches the peach stone go without alarm but with a great deal of curiosity. He's thinking on what he's seen, putting it into use in his imagination. "The undead abhor life, so life is what we use to fight them. Life. Purity. Faith, if you have it, which I don't. But I have other things. I have arrows and I have my blood and other things that they can't bear. Sometimes, though, the most important work is after. To destroy a thing doing harm is only half the fight. You have to undo the harm it did. And that is where medicine comes in. And plants."
Duke pulls a small lozenge tin from his pocket — a new one — and flips it open to reveal twelve little golden cubes of sugar. And they are golden, almost luminous, and they smell sweet. "Plants can undo all manner of harm, bring comfort and joy. I can't make them grow, but I can help them and I can use them."
*
"Life…life is something that makes an undead creature cringe." Binx takes a moment to think this new information over, before finally nodding. "Okay. That makes sense, I think. As far as medicine goes, I also, as a doctor, have access to all sorts of medicine." Though that may be a discussion for another time.
Eyeing the golden cubes, Binx leans in to examin them closely. "How do you get them that golden colour?" He asks curiously. "They almost…they seem to glow!"
*
"That's a secret — but a good one. Sometimes I share it; it's very, very old. I don't remember how old, I just know. You're welcome to try, if you don't have to drive anywhere. They seem to make people very happy, even if they were angry to begin with. Otherwise, you'll certainly have to come visit me." Duke winks at Binx. "Either way, it'll be worth your while."
*
"I'm not driving. I could…" Binx slowly reaches a hand toward the container. "But! I made a promise to myself to not try anything new without being around someone. So perhaps when I visit you." He says with a wide smile. "How can I arrange coming to visit?" He pats down his jacket and pulls out, from an inside pocket, a pen and a small note pad. "I don't even know where you live or how to contact you!"
*
"Dio's Scrap Yard," Duke says. He tucks the little box away again, unoffended. "It's out by Bowery Bay. I'd give you exact directions but I'm terrible at streets. It's by Rikers Island Bridge, on the forested side. Just a moment." He rummages around and comes out with a wallet — which actually has cash in it for once — and pulls one business card out of a few tucked into one of the slots. Dio's Scrap Yard. 45th Street. "Just don't drive off the end of that street and you won't go past it," Duke suggests with the air of someone who's had to be reminded of this.
*
"Well, shouldn't be too difficult to find, then. I mean, I know where that bridge is." It's not Binx has gone over to Riker's island, but he at least knows where it, and the bridge to it, are. Accepting the card and tucking it and the pen into his inside pocket, he nods. "I'll come visit soon, then! I'd like to see your gardening." He smiles widely.
*
"If you see a very, very big dog, his name is Coz," Duke warns. "Tell him you're there to see the garden. He'll let you in. He doesn't bite unless people don't pay for what they take. He's very interested in money." Duke seems to see this as some kind of concern. "But you're welcome any time. If you need a place to go, there's always room."
*
"Oh, I love dogs! Having a forested area nearby must be wonderful for him!" Binx does question, at least silently, why this man thinks a dog would understand him, but that's something he'll have to figure out another time. "That's very kind of you to offer me a place to stay. It really is. I'm fine for now, but if I ever need one in the future, I'll let you know!" He clears his throat again. "If you don't mind my asking, how did a person who works at a scrap yard get into gardenning and making medicinal items? Or is it the other way around? Did you start with gardening and medicinals and then make your way into scrap yarding?"
*
"Someone gave me the place," Duke says, looking a little sad. "I don't remember them anymore, but they were grateful for something I did for them. So they gave me the scrap yard. It's a place to organize and tend and harvest, like a garden. It helps me learn inorganic things better. It's useful, people like to come and find things they thought they couldn't find. And everything I can keep from hurting the plants out in the world is a good thing. So, I just kept doing it. I grow my gardens alongside the scrap. Sometimes I build little houses in it because people need to hide from the world. So, it's useful."
*
"You know, you sound like a good man, Duke. You may not be able to remember everything, but sometimes a person doesn't need to." Not that that's going to stop him from trying to help him remember. Binx places a hand gently on Duke's shoulder. "'So shines a good deed in a naughty world.'" He quotes from Shakespear's The Merchant of Venice. "And when good deeds shine, whether we remember those deeds or not, the rays of that shining deed reach out and touch all in their path."
*
"I hope you're right, in the long run. It's not always clear." Duke glances over to see one of the kitchen workers putting a takeout order together. "But I would do it anyway. I don't do things for the outcome, I do them because they're the right thing to do — or the most right thing I can see. I think I'd be disappointed if I expected a certain outcome but I can't make anything happen a certain way. I don't have any power like that. All I can do is be what I am." He chuckles a little, then shrugs. "Whatever that thing is."
*
"Well, we can always hope for a certain outcome." Binx responds. "What we must do, however, is to realize that the outcomes we hope for are not always the outcomes we get." He shrugs. "But that shouldn't stop us from making the world a better place, right?" He scratches his ear. "But maybe I'm just going around in circles here."
*
"I think memory matters for consequences and outcomes. You can't have expectations if you don't have memories," Duke says. He pulls out his wallet to pay for his meal, gets up and hands the cash over to the woman at the register. She makes a face, hands part of it back, then makes him change for the rest.
<You never look at it,> she scolds in Cantonese. <You need to learn to count.>
"I don't think I can change what I am, anyway. And I do, too, know how to count. I just…" He shoves the money back in his pocket so he can take his takeout bags. "…don't care. It makes Coz crazy, but I can't change that, either. At least you know what to expect when you come see me, right?"
*
"Well, I suppose you make a fair point there." Binx smiles widely. "I suppose you've got a group to get that food to, but hey, it was good meeting you, Duke!" He says in a cheerful tone. "I look foward to dropping by the scrap yard and showing you more of what I've got!"
*
"I think Liv and Dom will eat Coz if I don't get back. Watch yourself if you go down to Hell's Kitchen." Duke bumps the door open with his hip, but pauses, then gives Binx a curious little grin. "I'll see you around, one way or another, Binx. Before I forget."
*