The Role of Scrubbed Teal

So banishment was Blue’s thing. Blue could be found at either a house party or on his favorite mountaintop, which is where he did most of his best thinking, largely consisting of putting things together along the lines of what he wanted to believe. And what he wanted to believe was that he was making progress, or internal progression, as it was called. 

Evidence of this progression could be found in Blue’s diagnosis of his interaction with three colors. With Pink, Blue was in control. With Red, Blue was out of control. Both colors were equally bad for Blue, according to Blue. With Green, he was both in control and not in control of shared moments.

Green was the prize, with Yellow as a backup.

Blue liked the idea of Green bringing him cupcakes all right, but he wouldn’t be fool enough to mention it to her right away. These sorts of opportunities present themselves, seemed to Blue. There was no need to create a moment when one doesn’t occur naturally. And although endowed with this knowledge to basically go with the flow, Blue also knew he was renown for unnecessarily creating famously bad moments.

At Indigo’s house party, Blue went “clandestine-like,” which meant he pretended to be somebody else, a Scrubbed Teal. Blue as Scrubbed Teal quietly sat at the end of the basement bar, watching the proceedings that included Bermuda Blue mixing drinks for a group of yellows and greens and a few reds and blues twisting on the dance floor. Indigo had very nice house.

Alcohol became a factor. It was clearly the third margarita and the small smile from Light Purple – Light Purple! – that got Blue off his stool and talking about the measure of a man, which is athleticism, not strength. Blue believed this sort of opening topic would produce light, engaging banter and Blue was exactly right, perhaps, he suspected, because he was Scrubbed Teal and therefore not really responsible for his actions. Blue reflected upon this while demonstrating a behind-the-back move to place his glass on the table.

“I didn’t know teals were so funny,” Light Purple said.

“It’s because we’re in the blue family,” Blue as Scrubbed Teal said. “We take after Blue, who is supernaturally funny.”

Light Purple made one of those faces that said she disagreed but was reluctant to verbalize the disagreement because the experience of chatting over margaritas had been pleasant so far. Blue could not help prodding her for more information, and so Light Purple told him how Blue was the oldest color and most self-unaware. Look how badly he hurt Pink, Light Purple said.

Blue could only nod as Scrubbed Teal.

Blue would later call it a test from the gods that Pink walked downstairs into the basement bar at that moment in the company of White by way of holding hands, engaged in a conversation about spirit colors. Of course Pink recognized Blue right away, and Blue, after excusing himself from Light Purple, explained that he didn’t plan on talking to anyone as Scrubbed Teal. He just wanted to hang out at the end of the bar, but then he got a little buzzed and said a few words to Light Purple. So what?

Pink didn’t care. She said have a nice night and turned away from Blue. White gave Blue a look that said it was time for him to go, and Blue went upstairs to the living room, saw that the shady blues were occupying the furniture, and headed to the second floor bar as Blue. Green was at the second floor bar, in the company of Seal Brown. They were situated close together, as Seal Brown made no secret of his desire for Green. And Green, though she desired Blue, was thinking that it might not happen with Blue, largely because it hadn't happened yet.

Blue said hi to Green and Seal Brown before disappearing into the crowd and out to small, neighborhood tavern where there was no large crowd or lively conversation or objects of desire, passed over or not, holding hands with other colors or not, just cheap drinks and TVs and the patrons getting obliterated in good old fashioned silence.

Here's the next part.