ODETTE RANGIFER
It’s warm. Almost too warm for my jacket, but I don’t take it off.
Countless clouds of all sizes pepper the sky, the Sun flitting between them as if playing peekaboo. I think it’s lucky none of them are —
‘Nimbus!’ my girlfriend calls, grabbing my hand. ‘C’mon, the light is green.’
Gale pulls me with her as we sprint across the road, barely making it across before the cars start moving again. She doesn’t let go of me.
‘Stop getting distracted, let’s go.’
I snatch a glance at the sky again and notice the clouds growing slightly, the breeze starting to merge smaller tufts with the larger ones. I don’t get to look for too long, as Gale continues to lead me into the shopping centre. She holds my hand like I’m a limp toy at her side, dragging me along.
She lets go as we enter the shopping centre and set off on our shopping journey. We check out some jewellery stores, wander through Cotton On and Kmart. We make it to Dangerfield, and I follow Gale through the aisles of clothes.
It’s my first time being here and something in my heart starts to… sting. I stare at the dresses, the skirts, the pinafores. Maybe I’d like to see my girlfriend wear more stuff like this. No… that’s not it.
Then I pass a mirror and immediately grimace. I’m wearing a graphic tee of Marvel’s Thor, an oversized grey jacket and navy jeans. I step closer, looking at my face. My lips are dry and cracked, stubble plagues my chin, my dark hair is short but unkempt. Some would say I don’t look that bad for a seventeen-year-old boy, and up until now I hadn’t really cared about how I looked. But now, I just feel out of place. Not just in this store, but in myself. I’m so… shabby.
‘Babe,’ I venture, ‘can we get some clothes for me?’
Gale looks up from a box of scarves, ‘Hm? Yeah sure. We’ll go to the men’s section in Uniqlo.’
The sting in my heart grows as I start, ‘That’s not what I —,’ and cut myself off. What did I think was going to happen?
*
It’s cold. Even with my jacket zipped up, I’m not wearing enough layers.
The Sun has almost set, the last vestiges of its light hitting the remaining clouds, painting them in gradients of orange and blue. I hope none of them are —
‘Nimbus!’ Gale snaps at my side. ‘Nimbus if we’re going to hang out, you have to talk to me.’ As my girlfriend speaks, the wind picks up and I watch the floating masses roll into one gargantuan cloud.
‘Right, sorry,’ I mutter, ‘I got distracted.’
She huffs and turns away, and I can feel the guilt twist my stomach. We’d finished shopping and went to sit on the benches near the metro. Our day had been alright up until now, I was just… tired.
‘Why do you do this?’ she groans into her hands. ‘Are you even there?’
I squeeze my eyes shut and stifle a frustrated sigh. There are so many things I want to say, things I wish I could spit into existence. But I don’t. No, I’m too weak for that. If I say anything it’ll just make things worse, it’s easier to just go with the flow. And so, I say nothing.
Nothing turns out to make things worse too.
Gale turns to me again, ‘Nimbus, I said fucking say something to me!’
‘What do you want me to say?’ I ask. ‘We’ve been talking all day; I don’t have anything interesting to talk about. At least nothing you care about…’ My confidence leaves me as I say that last part, tapering off into a quiet murmur.
Anger flashes across her face as I speak and I wince as she lashes back, ‘Talking? No, we haven’t! I’ve been trying to start conversations the entire time we were out, and you didn’t answer one!’ She clutches at her head. ‘I never know what’s going on with you! You weren’t like this when we started dating, what the fuck happened?’ Flecks of desperation are buried in her voice.
I have nothing to say. I don’t know what happened.
She gets up and as she leaves, she scoffs, ‘Don’t ever accuse me of not caring about what you like, when it seems like you don’t even know it yourself.’
The urge to scream returns. I want to shout that I can’t say what I want to. I want to shout that she wouldn’t understand.
But instead, I say, ‘I’m sorry,’ as she storms off, ‘uhh, call you later?’ I don’t get a response.
God, I’m so pathetic.
*
It’s hot. Sweat dampens my jacket, so I take it off, wrapping it around my waist. That feels better than I thought.
I see only a few clouds, the Sun shining through the glass of the window like it favours me. When was the last time I saw a —
‘Nimbus! It’s your turn,’ Snooze whispers, nudging me. I shake myself out of my trance and look around. I, my friend Snooze and five other people sit around a large table adorned with sheets of paper, sets of dice and miniature figurines. At the head of the table, the dungeon master looks at me.
‘What do you want to do, Cirice?’ he says, gesturing at the miniature of my character, a female cat-humanoid standing beside five other miniatures, facing off against a werewolf. I scratch my head as I stare down at my character sheet, contemplating my moves.
Snooze looks over my shoulder, ‘You should just attack, get some hits in with your sword.’ I almost agree instantly but change my mind.
‘No, that’s too simple,’ I say, ‘I think… I’m going to enter Stance of Fluid Retaliation with my action… and as a bonus action, I’m going to taunt the werewolf.’
I turn to Snooze to see a smile growing on his face. ‘Nice move, I like the risk,’ he grins. I can’t help but smile back, just a little. I look outside at the… clouds? They seem to have dissipated.
This game of Dungeons and Dragons has been going on for about a month, and it’s been one of my new favourite things to do. Playing as Cirice has been… really fun. Playing a female character feels strangely natural. As long as I have the chance, I’d play a girl…
If only it were that easy…
As I ponder, I gaze through the window to see clouds slowly forming again. No, there’s nothing I can do about it. Life isn’t a fantasy where you can be what you want, do what you want.
Yet I can’t shake the thoughts of the clothes I saw. The clothes I’m not supposed to wear. The clothes I can’t have.
Why do I want the things people tell me not to want?
*
It’s warm. My jacket is still off, and I don’t feel the need to put it back on thanks to the heater in Snooze’s car as he drives me home.
Darkness is all I can see outside, I can’t even tell if there are any clouds. Or maybe there are so many that they’re blocking out the remaining sun rays before night begins. If that was true, they would probably have to be–
‘Nimbus,’ Snooze says, ‘are you ok?’
Am I?
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I reply.
He shrugs, ‘Ok, just checking. You had quite a few quiet moments during the game and I just wanted to make sure.’
‘I’m ok, I just had things I was thinking about that distracted me.’
Snooze nods and says nothing, keeping his eyes on the road. I don’t know what to feel. He doesn’t push for me to say anything, and that’s… new.
I sigh, ‘I was just thinking about… life stuff. My life I mean.’ I look out the car window again. ‘I feel like I’m so out of control of everything, like I have to listen to so many people and do what they say and… playing D&D is one of the only times where I feel like my choices actually make a difference.’
I hear a sharp breath through gritted teeth, and I turn to look at him. ‘What?’ I ask.
He hesitates for saying, ‘Look, you’re my friend so I don’t want this to come off as harsh… but like… if you feel like your choices don’t matter in your life, then have you actually been making any of those choices?’
I stare at him.
‘Like, I get you’re under a lot of pressure, I mean you’ve told me what your girlfriend has being saying to you. But whenever I hear you talk about them, you’re never fighting back… and I don’t really understand why? I’ve seen you do it in D&D, why not in real life?’
‘I can’t,’ I mumble.
‘…Why not?’
‘Because it’ll just mess things up, it’s not what I’m supposed to do. It’s easier to just… do what people say.’
‘Ok but… how do you know it’s so hard to make a choice for yourself if you’ve never followed through with it?’
I open my mouth to rebut and… have no good answer. The conversation ends there but his words follow me, lingering in my mind as he drops me off and I make it to my room.
I’m sitting on my bed, night finally falling. Through the crack in my curtains, I can see the moon, casting its cool glow onto the blanket of clouds. For once, the clouds are still, unmoving, unchanging.
What would actually, actually happen if I stopped going with the flow? What would happen if I stopped letting the wind push me around? What if I stopped being such a cloud? What if —
I shake my head, pulling myself into focus. What if can’t be the question I ask myself. What if holds the indecision and the doubt I know has been holding me back.
Why not make a choice for me?
My phone lights up, and I glance at it to see an impatient notification from my girlfriend. I pick up my phone, intending to hurriedly text some pitiful apology. But as I open her messages I stop. I swipe away the notification and drop my phone back onto my bed.
I stand and go to my bathroom mirror, bringing my jacket with me. In my reflection I don’t just see someone shabby. No, I see someone tired, someone sad, someone lying to himself.
I tie my jacket around my waist, now knowing why it feels good. I look into the mirror again and staring back… well at least that someone isn’t lying to herself anymore. It might be small but it’s a start.
A choice for me.
I walk back to my room and look outside again, discovering that many of the clouds have drifted away, though plenty are still here.
Buzzing from my phone alerts me and I realise Gale is calling me. I stare at the screen for a few moments, debating whether I should pick up. Eventually I do.
‘Nimbus! Why haven’t you been answering me, I’ve been texting you…’
I don’t rush to accommodate her despite my usual urge to say sorry. I simply let her voice drone on until she notices my silence.
‘…Nimbus? Why aren’t you saying anything?’
I take a deep breath and speak for the first time, ‘Gale… we’re not good for each other. I can’t be… myself with you in my life. I can’t make choices. I think… we’re done.’
‘What?’ she gasps, ‘Are you not even fucking trying? Nimbus! Are you serious —’ I hang up, knowing that all I’ll get from her is rage.
A choice for me.
All but one of the clouds have disappeared. One lonely rain cloud glistening in the moonlight, ready to get blown around by the gusts of the night. A Nimbus cloud.
Not anymore. I’m tired of being a cloud. I’m tired of being Nimbus.
I’m Nix.
A choice for me.’
Odette Rangifer
…isn’t real. But if she was, she’d tell you that she’s a transgender fantasy writer, lover of video games, and firm believer that stories hold more power, meaning and worth than any monarch.
“Well, even a bad story is a story people tell each other…”
