SKIN DEEP - Urban Legend - Chapter Nine:
The Way of Things
by
Mark McDonald
That embrace in front of my old home was the last time I was that close
to the life I had been born to and I felt a profound sadness leaving it
behind. It was more than being forced to go forward in life wearing
someone else's body. It was a separation from the place where I had
started my independent life. It was the point in time where my journey
into male adulthood had begun and, it seemed, had ended.
We walked away from the abandoned dorm room. I could imagine the scene
inside. My mind's eye could see my clothing, books, papers and
schoolwork tossed about in the name of the search for evidence. I
wanted my pictures and keepsakes, the small trinkets that I took with
me from home when I moved out, things my sister gave me. It was all
gone for me now.
Gary did suggest that I spend just a little of the money I had. His
first suggestion was some inexpensive but presentable clothes for me to
wear. The next expense was on a hotel room in his name, since he had
ID. He assured me that he would pay me back for all of it in three
days. He had been promised an advance on his pay from his Dad in return
for coming to work at the restaurant.
I was happy to spend some of the money and I didn't tell Gary that I
had no intention of letting him pay me back. It would be worth any
amount money I had to spend to have a bath and a soft bed to lay down
on for just five minutes. Nothing in this world can give you such an
appreciation for a mattress than sleeping on the cold hard ground under
a city overpass.
Around the corner was a store called Second Hand Rose. We slipped in
and right away Gary stepped forward to talk to the young girl at the
counter. I hung back, I wasn't used to interacting with others in this
disguise yet and wanted to minimize contact where I could for now. When
Gary put himself in charge I just let him take the reigns. After all, I
was happy to let him take care of my troubles.
Gary came back to and said, "Her name is Amy. She said she could help
you get into some jeans and a few shirts and some new, clean underwear.
She won't ask any questions, and if she does just smile and say
nothing. Give me the chip case and I'll hold it while you dress. In the
mean time, I'll go get you a decent room and some food. Would you like
anything special to eat?"
"Ooooh food," I whispered in awe of the word and the idea. "I don't
care, just lots of it."
"You'll want to watch that girlish figure of yours won't you?" he said
with a sheepish grin.
"You know, you're right. Get me some raw veggies and about eight
hundred pounds of pancakes and syrup," I said with a smile. It felt
good to crack a joke for a change. I handed him my cash chip and
allowed my hand to remain in his for just a moment.
"Thank you," I mouthed to him as Amy came over with some things she
thought might fit. Gary smiled in return.
"Hi, I'm Amy," she said sticking out her hand from under a folded pile
of pants, jeans, skirts and blouses in a gesture meant to get me to
shake it. I did and responded, "Hi. I'm Michelle."
"Cool. Wow, you're really pretty. I hope you're not here when Bobby
comes to pick me up," she said and smiled.
"Bobby?" I asked.
She had started sorting out the clothes she was holding. In response to
my question, she looked up and said with a smile, "My boyfriend."
"Oh." I could feel myself blushing. "I must look like something that
just crawled out of a grave. I don't think you have anything to worry
about. Besides you're very pretty too." And she was, it was no
overstatement. She was about my build (maybe a bit thinner than me),
ample breasts, and lovely long blond hair that appeared to be natural
and large brown eyes that reminded me of Japanese Anime art.
"Yeah, right," she said dismissing my compliment. "Come on. Your
boyfriend wants me to fashion you up. I want to do it and get you out
of here before my boyfriend gets here."
I glanced over at Gary with raised eyebrows, and he just shrugged at me
as if to say, "I never once said boyfriend".
We turned and made toward the back of the store. She glanced over her
shoulder and eyed Gary one last time before he ducked out. "But I think
I could stand to let mine go if you wanted to trade."
I laughed at the idea that she really thought Gary was my boyfriend,
and she said, "Yeah, I thought that's what you'd say."
She led me to the back of the store where the changing rooms were,
handed me the stack of clothes and opened the door for me. I stepped in
and closed the door behind me.
"So how long have two been together?" she asked me.
"No questions? Yeah right!" I groused internally.
"Um. We're not really together, we only just meet the other day."
"Oh that's bad," I thought. "What the hell is he doing buying you
clothes then? Just keep your fucking mouth closed."
"Oh yeah?" she sounded hopeful.
"We're just roommates."
"Oh." Now she sounded just as deflated as she had hopeful a moment
before.
In the dressing room, on the other side of the privacy curtain, I undid
the shorts and stripped them off. They had not loosened up a bit since
I had first started to wear them three days ago. They had to be some of
the tightest clothes I had ever worn, but not so tight that they dug
into my skin, just snug and I longed for something more causal to wear.
I unfolded a pair of well-worn straight leg jeans from the stack and
unzipped them and slipped first one slender leg in and then the next. I
remembered thinking to myself, "Those are yours now," and shivered at
the idea.
"Why is it...?" Amy started with the questions again, so I cut her off.
"So how long have you and Bobby -- you did say Bobby right? How long
have you two been going out?" She seemed to perk up at the idea of a
real conversation with more than just one person doing all the talking,
or asking as it were.
"Almost four months now, but I haven't slept with him yet," she
offered.
"That was more information than I needed!" I thought. "Thanks for
sharing that with me."
"I guess that guy must be a real good friend, huh? What's his name?" I
figured there was no point in not answering. It would be easy enough to
for someone to figure out who had been here. Best to avoid suspicion by
not acting suspicious.
"Gary. His name is Gary and yes, he's a very dear friend. He's been
very sweet and kind to me," I told her as I zipped up the jeans and
started to remove my shirt to try on one of the ones in the stack.
Suddenly the curtain opened and there was Amy saying, "So let me see
how this stuff fi ... oh shit! What the hell happened to you?"
I was so surprised by the sudden intrusion that I didn't even have the
good sense to cover up. When I realized that I was half-naked, and that
my boobs were the half that was naked, I tried desperately to cover up.
Even if it was another girl, I wasn't used to exposing myself, as a
female, to anyone -- other than Gary. I got myself covered too late and
Amy saw the now healing scratches on my chest that disappeared
underneath my bra.
"Did he do that to you?" she asked. She seemed to be getting angry.
"What?"
"THAT!" she shouted and pointed one slender and perfectly manicured
nail at my chest.
"You mean Gary? God no! He's the most gentle man I know of," I said.
Why the hell hadn't I seen that one coming? "Because before you were
never a candidate for abuse before, butt head."
"You don't have to protect him. I've been hit before too. I know you
think you love him but if he does shit like that to you-then ..." Her
words echoed off the walls of my skull and my heart broke for her. She
was sharing with me sister-to-sister, something every girl knows. It
was the knowledge that men could be brutal. She was affirming her
understanding that men were bigger and stronger than most women. They
could exercise their will over us by brute force if they so decided and
that was the risk we all shared. She was showing me that we could stick
together and didn't have to accept that fate. I shuddered once more the
countless ways in which I could never have imagined that my world had
changed.
"No, you don't understand," I said and held my nails up to the scratch
marks and showed her that the distance between them matched those of my
fingers and the size of the scratches were the same size as my nails. I
couldn't tell her I had been panic stricken, that I was trying to get
free or what I had been trying to free myself from. These self-
inflicted wounds were the result of trying to strip the flesh of this
body off of me the night that I realized that I had became Michelle
once and for all.
"You did that? Why?" she whispered, absolutely confused beyond
recovery.
"Look, I don't want to go into it if that's all right? I just haven't
been feeling well," I could feel my voice breaking up as I spoke. "If
it hadn't have been for Gary, well these might be a whole lot worse.
That's all I want to say about that now."
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to be helpful. I won't ask any more
questions. Please forgive me." I could see she felt bad, but I was
grateful that this little scene had happened the way it did. She seemed
satisfied that I was having some emotional problems of some sort and
that Gary was helping me through them.
"I just knew he was something special though," she continued. "Most
guys wouldn't have a thing to do with a girl with a problem, not if
they thought they might have to do something to fix it or to lift a
finger to help. Girls with baggage are like, broken, you know? At least
most guys seem to think so. You're very lucky to have a friend as nice
and good-looking as he is."
I considered that first part and I supposed she was right. Here he was
again, baling me out of another crisis, albeit with my money, but that
was the only resource we had right now. Gary's intention was to pay me
back and I knew he would try with all his powers of persuasion to get
me to accept his money.
"Yeah, but he got you into this mess, don't forget that." This time the
left half won out when it replied, "No, I got myself into this mess by
not saying 'NO'. Not once did I stand up and just say no. Perhaps I got
what I deserved." Then another voice, one that sounded somewhat
familiar, but from deep inside my head, said, "Or what you were
destined for."
"What?" I asked thinking at first that voice had been Amy's.
"I said, when you're done with him, let me know OK?"
I slipped on the shirt that was in my hand and responded
absentmindedly, "Ah ... yeah, OK."
"There. Let me see. Girlfriend, you'd look great in late grunge."
I turned to the mirror. The look was neither sloppy nor neat. It was
comfortable, more along the lines of what I was used to as a guy. The
jeans were not loose but comfortable with some slack in the fabric,
although I was surprised to see that enough of the lines and curves of
my body still showed through to leave little to the imagination. "I
guess I'm going to have to start wearing sweats everywhere I go to do
that," I thought. The red shirt was a bit snug but it was stretchy and
comfortable. My only problem with it was that it made my boobs really
stick out. I just wasn't used to showing them off and I really didn't
like the effect it had on me.
"All that stuff is the same size. You can try it all on if you want.
Some of it's bound not to fit, but if you want, you can just pick out
what you want and if something doesn't fit, just bring it back to me.
I'll give you your money back with no problem," Amy assured me.
"Just put it all in a bag for me. I'll go ahead and take it all," I
said.
"Hand me those shorts on the floor and that sweater. I'll pack that in
a separate bag."
"You can throw that stuff out. I don't want it."
"Oh, but it's so cute," she squealed.
"You want it? You can have it." I was glad to be rid of it.
"No, I couldn't," she said holding it up to her to see if it might fit.
She thought better of and said, "I'll bag it up too. If you don't want
it, you throw it out. It wouldn't fit me anyway, not enough butt to
fill this out, you know?" She grabbed up the rest of the stuff and
spirited it away to pack it up for me.
I went back up to the front of the store to wait for Amy to return with
my packages and for Gary to come back from getting a room someplace. As
I did, it came to me that Amy had said that she knew that Gary was
someone special. "Since when?" I wondered. Where did she know Gary from
and why the hell, if she knew him, didn't she know his name.
Amy was back in just a few minutes and I decided that there was enough
doubt in my mind to warrant asking her the same questions I was
formulating in my head.
"So you know Gary?" I asked.
"Me? No. I've seen him. He hangs around this side of town and I've seen
him in the clubs around the strip up by the college a couple blocks up.
He hangs out with that singer from that band, Tidewater. You know, that
guy that's missing?"
*Cough. Cough. GAGK!* I was so badly shaken by the suddenness of being
confronted with the issue of my own disappearance that I started to
cough and strangle as my throat closed up and my mouth went dry.
"Are you Ok? Holy shit, you're turning white. Did you know him? Oh God
that's it isn't, you know that missing guy, don't you? I'm sorry.
Christ, of course you do. You're hanging out with his friend."
"No," I croaked. "It's OK. Cough. I'm OK," I said trying to recover. "I
didn't know him. I've heard Gary talk about him though."
"Oh, that's good." She stopped. "I mean ... it's not good. It awful. I
mean ... Oh God, why can't I just keep my mouth shut?" The bell over
the door rang and she looked out into the store. "Oh good, here comes
Gary!" She seemed relieved.
I was just stepping out of the dressing room and was greeted with
Gary's enthusiastic voice. "Wow! Very nice."
"Please. It's just jeans Gary," I said doubtful tone in my voice, but
inside I was really pleased. I told myself that I had to curb that
feeling.
"Whatever. You look great," he said and just stared at me.
"You want to pay the girl?" I asked him and turned to look at Amy who
was staring at Gary the way Gary was staring at me. Oh boy.
"Huh? Oh yeah, how much?" he turned and asked Amy.
"What?" Amy asked.
Like I said, "Oh boy."
"What do we owe you?" he said.
"Oh, uh ... let's see." She started to quickly tap out some items on
the digital inventory system, there was a beep and she said. "Call it
$62.58." She looked up with a shy smile and it fell from her face when
she realized Gary was not looking at her.
He handed her the cash chip without looking up and turned back to talk
to me. "Thanks," she said sounding very disappointed, but Gary didn't
notice.
I raised my eyebrows at him and he did the same as if to say "What?" I
jerked my head in Amy's direction and he shook his head as if he still
didn't understand, so I did it again. This time he looked over to see
what I was jerking my head at. She had debited what was due from the
chip and returned it to the counter and she was looking at him again
with that dreamy look in her eyes and holding out the chip.
"Thanks," he said as he took it and did a double take as she held on to
his hand as he pulled it away. I couldn't help myself I had to giggle
at that. I could see Amy had heard me. She blushed and quickly let go
of Gary's hand.
I took my bag of clothes and made for the door. Gary held the door for
me and didn't look back to see if Amy was looking, but I did. She was
daydreaming at the counter, watching Gary leave. The sigh I heard
before the door closed was deep and long. I felt sorry for the girl,
but I felt equally as good for myself. I wasn't alone for now. I had
time to figure this thing out and I had the help of a good friend to
help me. Things were finally looking up and after what had seemed like
a thousand years of emptiness, I was feeling better and somewhat
hopeful. Although it had only been three days, it had sure felt a lot
longer than that!
We stepped out into the sunshine together and a recollection popped up,
so sudden that I was almost knocked to the floor with it. The last time
I remembered walking in the warm light of the sun together was the day
that I had decided that I was going to slide on what ever came my way,
just five short days ago, and stop bitching about what I couldn't
change in the immediate future.
Sigh. It was out before I realized Gary could hear it.
"I'm sorry about all this. I guess I've done it again, but this time I
really hurt someone didn't I?"
"I still don't know what to say about any of this." I waited and
thought and then added, "Except that you're not all to blame. Remember?
We've had this conversation before."
"Yeah, and you were pissed off at me then too."
"Well, I'm not pissed now. I'm ... I'm sad Gary. I'm scared. I don't
know how to be a girl and now I've got to try the very best I can to do
just that and I don't know where to begin. But I'm not pissed, not at
you anyway. If I'm angry at anyone it's me, but if I spend too much
time worrying about that I might as well open a vein right now."
He stopped at took me by the shoulders and looked me sternly in the
eye. "You wouldn't do that would you?"
"I don't know," I looked right back and answered. He tried to get the
truth out of my eyes and I guess he couldn't tell if I was bluffing or
serious because he got irritated with me. To tell you the truth, right
then I didn't know if it was a bluff or not.
"You shouldn't say shit like that. If you did something like that to
yourself then it meant that I killed you. I couldn't live with that.
Not murder. Not you." His head was hanging down and then it snapped up
and he had tears in his eyes. "Do you understand that?" he asked.
I searched his eyes and said, "Gary, I don't think I could if I wanted
to. It wouldn't surprise me to find that whoever designed me has
programmed self-destructiveness out of this girl's mind." I reached out
and put my hand on his chest. He laid his over it and I could feel the
beating of his heart quicken just the slightest bit.
"Besides, I'm grateful you didn't run out on me like the others seem to
have."
"They didn't. Well, not all of them. Kit and Frank were both out
looking for you until I called off the search when I booked your room.
Hell, Kit felt personally responsible for letting you get out without
anyone seeing you. He hasn't slept in the last two nights and he looks
like shit. We were all afraid that if the cops called him in for
questioning about your ... er, Mike's disappearance, they would see his
condition as suspicious and hold him. The guy is laid back and has a
quick wit. He can usually talk is way out of nearly anything, but when
you're tired who knows what the hell a person's gonna say."
I was touched that those three would do what they had for me. "Tell
them thanks for me when you see them again."
"Tell them yourself, they're helping me move my stuff from the house to
the apartment."
"Good. That's good."
"Yeah, well I shouldn't say this, but Kit made me promise so he'll ask
you if I did. He said for you to trim your claws before he came in the
apartment."
I whipped around with my nails splayed and said, "Oh he did, did he?
Well I've got something for him."
Gary laughed and that felt good. If I could get him to lighten up then
I could relax a bit too.
Then I remembered the girl in the clothing store. I was used to the way
women threw themselves at Gary and he would simply carry on as if they
were wanted nothing more than for him to offer them the time from his
watch. As I've already said, most of us were more than happy to try to
pick up his rejects. I used to try to get him more involved with the
really pretty ones so we could double, you know, every once in a while
just share some good times with friends. It was just more fun that way,
but Gary was always looking for some higher love or something that he
could never really define. I sure as hell didn't understand it, but
when I remembered the way Amy had looked at him I easily slipped into
my old part as matchmaker.
"Hey, you know that Amy chick back there wants you, pal!"
"What?"
"Yeah, didn't you see the way she looked at you? The way she took your
hand buddy?" I nudged him and tried to smile but for some reason this
just didn't feel right anymore.
"Bullshit! She handed me back your chip Michelle, that's all. Oh yeah,
by the way, here's your money. The room's deducted from it too, but
I'll pay you back real quick."
I ignored his attempt to change the subject as I took the chip but
plodded on. "Hell Gary, she almost kept your hand as a souvenir," I
said, but my heart wasn't in it. I didn't really want to match him with
someone else anymore and he never responded to my last statement so I
let it go gratefully.
We walked along in silence for a while. I thought about why I couldn't
seem to get into the sprit of getting Gary "hooked up" but I knew the
answer to that. No matter how betrayed and alone I was feeling, he was
still mine. My heart had not relinquished its claim on him. I thought
about all the other girls that had tried to pin him down in the past
and I got a little scared. Was I suddenly getting my just desserts? Was
I now one of them, one of Gary's "castoffs"? The idea terrified me.
What about all the girls I had told I loved only to bed them? I
shuddered as a chill coursed through me.
Thinking about Amy and her attempt to get Gary to notice her, I
remembered something Amy had said. "Oh, hell that reminds me. She said
she knows you?"
"Huh? I don't know her."
"OK, that may not be quite right. She said she always thought you were
something special. When I asked her what she meant she said she had
seen you hanging around near the college with me."
"How the hell can that be? She just met you."
"No, me." I waited for the recognition, but it didn't come. "Me. Mike,
remember me? She said that singer from that band Tidewater."
"Oh." Then his eyes popped open and he whispered, "Oh shit!"
"Yeah. Not exactly what I said but that was close," I said grim faced.
"What did you say? We have to be careful there, you know?"
"Don't worry, I choked when my throat closed up on me. It surprised me
that's all, but she thought since I was hanging out with you I must
have known me ... er ... him ... ah ... Mike. Oh shit. Gary, it hasn't
been a week and I'm already fading away, aren't I?"
"No, you're not," he objected and stepped up to me.
"Yes I am ... he is. Mike's dead now. He's dead because he can't come
back. Oh Gary, we aren't going to get away with this Gary. There's too
much to over come. You'd better cut your losses while you can and put
as much distance between me and you while you can."
He looked at me with a silly smile and as he continued to look at me he
saw that I was not joking. As the smile slipped off his face, he looked
at me and said, "I can't do that. We started this you and I and I'm not
going to make you finish it alone. I would never be able to live with
myself, so I'm not going away. If you leave, then I guess I can't do
anything about that, but I'll try to follow you. I'll stay in the
background and I won't bother you, but if you need my help I just show
up. I'll keep doing that until I'm sure you don't need me anymore. Then
I'll go away."
"Then you're doomed, just like me, but at least I'll have some very
good company on the way. Amy was right; you are something special all
right. I don't know why I didn't see it before." I put my arms around
him and gave him a grateful hug.
"You never needed saving before. I would have been there if you did,
but you just never needed it before," he said as he hugged me back.
"Even if I was still ... you know, a guy."
"Yeah. I just wouldn't have hugged you that's all."
The room he secured for me was at what I considered and expensive
hotel, The Concord. The Concord was a three-star hotel; not a place
where the rich and famous stayed but nice enough for the parents of the
students who attended the college, parents wealthy enough to put their
children in college and to stay comfortably close to their kids when
they were in town.
The lobby was large and comfortable with lots of dark wood and leather
furniture. There was a bar and a cozy restaurant in the corner across
from the desk. The elevators were across from the entryway. Gary lead
me through the lobby and to the elevators, he punched the up button and
a set of polished brass doors slid open as if it had been waiting for
us.
Inside, Gary pressed the button for the fifth floor. The doors slid
shut and the elevator whirred into life. Within seconds the doors
opened again to a hallway that was quiet and comfortable. There were no
sounds from the rooms as we walked down the hall; the place was well
insulated.
We stopped in front of room 5022. Gary produced a small card and
pressed it into the card-sized slot against the wall. He indicated that
I should press my thumb to the print reader and I did. It scanned my
print and there was a click as the lock on the door disengaged. I had
seen these security locks before. It will scan and unlock only for the
print of the first person that allows their print to be scanned by the
device. You have to have the card for that to happen. Now only my
thumbprint would open the door. I wouldn't need the card key anymore.
Gary opened the door and allowed me to go in first. "Well, this is home
for you for the next three days or so, until the apartment is ready,
anyway."
I went past him and into the room, which was about average size for a
hotel but was very comfortable. The bed was soft and I almost became
lost in it as my fatigue began to overwhelm me when I laid down on it.
"Not yet, come on." Gary's arms were around my waist lifting me back
up. "You have to get some food into you before you sleep. Then you can
take a shower or a bath and sleep as long as you like. But food first!"
"No. Please Gary, I'm not hungry. I just want to sleep," I whined. My
arms hung limp at my side and I did little, as I remember, to help him
get me to the table.
There was a table in the corner of the room against the window, the
drapes of which were still drawn closed. On the table was a large blue
combination food warmer/cooler. How the hell had I missed that? As Gary
led me to the table I could smell a wonderful aroma coming from within.
He sat me down and lifted the lid on the cooler, which was set to
warming mode. Gary reached inside and lifted out a plate covered with a
plastic wrap. Underneath was what appeared to be grilled shrimp and
fish over rice and black beans. Then, like a magician doing the
greatest trick of his career, he reached back in to the cooler and
produced a small loaf of bread, butter and fresh vegetables, the same
as he had made for me that fateful night at his house. Last he produced
a small wedge of some kind of greenish pie. Next to the table was a
small bucket with a chilled bottle of wine and a glass to pour it in.
"The wine will relax you -- help you sleep."
"My God Gary, where the hell did you get all this?" But I knew the
answer to that. He had someone at the restaurant make it and deliver it
while I was trying on clothes.
"Eat, don't worry about that for now. I'm taking care of that." He put
his hand on my shoulder and gently massaged it.
"Well, you don't have to tell me twice," I said, unwrapping the plate
with the shrimp.
"Look, I'm gonna go. You eat. If you want more just call the Red Fish
and ask for Jerry. He's been instructed to bring you whatever it is you
want. Don't be shy. Jerry's cool and he won't let me or you down, OK?"
"You didn't have to go to these measures Gary, but thanks, I really
appreciate it. You have no idea how much. I wouldn't have made it
without you." I put my hand on his as it worked my shoulder.
"Eat," he said again and turned to go.
I leaped up and rushed to him. "Gary."
He turned and I put my arms around him once more and held him tight.
Hesitantly, he put his arms around me and finally drew me in. I stayed
there with my head against his chest for a minute enjoying the feel of
someone close. It was the last time we touched like that for almost six
months.
We broke our embrace, and as I returned to a well deserved meal Gary
left. I ate and drank the entire bottle of wine. The pie was a lime-
flavored pie and Gary was later surprised to find out that I had never
heard of Key Lime Pie.
After dinner I took a shower. It was some time before I could bring
myself to take a bath. I allowed the warm water to course over me and
if I had continued to bask in it's warmth, I might have fallen asleep
right there in the shower.
Clean and full of good food, I was now slipping in to a deep food coma
so I quickly dried myself and put on fresh underwear and a T-shirt.
Then I pulled back the covers on the bed and slipped between the
sheets. I pulled the blankets up to my chin, relishing the feel of the
clean cotton sheets against my skin, and closed my eyes. As my lids
met, I remember thinking that it was only mid afternoon, too early to
go to sleep, but when I next opened my eyes, the sun had set. In fact
it had been down for hours.
I woke briefly at times during the next thirty or so hours. On one of
those occasions, I was vaguely aware that the cool/heater that was on
the when I went to sleep was now gone and the table had been cleaned
up. I felt that I should be alarmed. After all, wasn't I the only one
that could get into the room? Yet, it seemed someone had come in while
I had slept and cleaned up. I was still too tired to care. No one had
disturbed me. If the cleaning bandit had wanted to hurt me, they had
had a prime opportunity when they had been playing house with me
sleeping just a few feet away. I just rolled over and feel asleep
again.
I could have slept longer. It seemed easier and easier to simply roll
over and go back to sleep the longer I stayed in bed, but I somehow
forced myself to get up and test the waters of consciousness. I woke to
find that I was I had briefly forgotten that I was now a girl, but I
guess I hadn't really slept for the two days prior this long nap so I
guess that the last time I had actually woken up like this was nearly
three days in the past. Once I remembered where I was, I felt easier
about what and who I was looking at.
Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes and, for a time, just sat there waiting
for the cobwebs to clear. As they did I noticed that the cooler/heater
was back along with a clean plate and a smaller box that I assumed was
simply a regular cooler.
"What the hell?" I whispered looking around. I believe it was right
then that my negative suspicions began to get the best of me. It was
there I started to convince myself that I needed to put some distance
between Gary and I.
I got up and made my way over to cooler. In the small one were milk and
some Florida orange juice (another rare treat, especially since except
for the Miami Coast-most of Florida broke off and collapsed in to the
Gulf of Mexico-about ten years ago.) In the large cooler/heater were
scrambled eggs, warm fruit muffins and some link sausage also somewhat
rare, at least for the truly eatable kind.
This was the way time passed for the next three days. Gary came by on
several occasions to check on me and make sure I didn't need anything.
We passed the time he had to spend when not at work by playing cards
and board games or just chatting. As I look back at that time I can see
now that I was cold and distant. I acted disinterested in hopes that
Gary and I could be more as we had been before all this, but I was so
changed, not only in body and in mind but in sprit as well, that I
suppose I just shut everything off.
I honestly believe that if Gary had simply said "screw you, there's no
way you and I are moving in together" I would not have been surprised,
sad, worried, you name it -- insert your own negative adjective here. I
might have even been relieved who knows?
However, Gary, much to his credit, was a man of his word from that time
forward. I finally saw that apartment four days after he had rescued me
from the streets. It was in what was called the renascence area of the
city, a downtown district that, a hundred and fifty years ago had been
old and known as the historic district. Now the city was rebuilding -
no, rather restoring -- it to its original glory of the late 1700's to
mid 1800's. The building that our apartment was in had been an old
three-story fabric works in 1870. Since then it had been added to in
height by several stories. The building took up one entire city block
and our apartment took up half of that on one floor. It was huge. It
was the biggest home I'd ever dreamed of living in.
Inside, a dozen large, ornate, Roman-style columns made of wood
supported the ceiling. They had been stripped of years of pant and were
now stained a rich dark color and lacquered to a shinny luster. The
living room, an in-home office area and the kitchen were all part of
one large open area. Large windows that had to be eight feet high and
four feet wide lined two of the four main walls. Each of these looked
out on a separate street below. All opened wide to let in fresh air
when desired. The ceilings and floors were bordered in highly detailed
Victorian crown molding and the ceiling was done in carved plaster
figure pieces around the hanging wrought-iron gas lamps that had been
converted to electricity. The place was as big as a gymnasium.
The bedrooms had been built on the east side of the building. A well-
built and highly insulated wall with a door-less hall near the entryway
of our apartment led to three separate bedrooms. The master bedroom was
the first that you came upon. Inside, it had two of the large windows
that lined the two exterior walls of the main living chamber. It had
already been furnished with a large bed with lovely wooden foot and
headboards, a dressing table, chair and a wood-burning fireplace had
been installed in one corner of the room. The room also had a mini-VID
and music center in the center of a bookshelf that stood against one
wall all at the foot of the bed. There was also a large private bath
with tub large enough for four people and yet another window. I didn't
need to see the other bedrooms to understand what was going on here.
"Gary, don't you think this room is a bit feminine?" I complained.
"For who?" he asked.
"For you."
"I suppose." I chided.
I stood there waiting to hear more but no more information was forth
coming.
"This is not my room Gary."
"Fine ... you'd better get to moving that furniture then." He turned
and walked out of the door, leaving me there with more guilt than I had
expected to have over this. I chased after him but he was already out
in the living room, about a mile away, when I turned the corner of the
hall into the main living area.
"Hey," I shouted. The echo was incredible.
Kit and Frank were moving furniture through the front door; a couch it
looked like to me but only Kit was in the door. Frank was on the other
side, struggling to get whatever it was turned in such a fashion as to
get it in the door.
"Turn it this way ... No ... OK now wait ... WAIT! What part of wait
don't you understand Mr. Malibu?"
"Hey," Kit shouted. I turned and could see him looking over his
shoulder at me. "Damn it's good to see you." He set his end of the
whatever-it-was down and started towards me and I turned to greet him.
"Where ya goin'? KIT! This fucking thing is heavy here.... Ohhhhhhh!
KIT!"
He came over to me despite the protests of the unseen Frank.
His arms were open expecting a hug. I lightly put mine around him but
withdrew quickly after only a second. I think my curtness caught him by
surprise, but he said nothing.
"How are you?" he inquired.
"Better now, thanks. And thanks for looking for me, but you should have
known I'd be all right. You didn't have to stay up for two nights
trying to find me."
"What are you talking about?" he seemed confused. "Wouldn't you have
done that for me?"
"Sure. I guess I would have." I hesitated. "I'm just saying ... well,
thanks."
Suddenly, I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to seem ungrateful
and I honestly thought I was just trying to act normal, as I had before
all this started, but I was being met with cold and confused stares.
Even with my friends rallying around me, I felt alone. All of them had
gone back and I felt as if they were just going to through the motions
of being kind. I felt crippled. I felt like I had been hobbled and
everyone was holding a pity party for me.
"Look," he was saying. "If I could do something to make this better I
would. I've always been your friend. You've always treated me with more
respect than most. I'm sorry we got you in to this mess. Can you
forgive me?"
"It really wasn't you that did this to me. I'm grateful for all you've
done to help." I stuck out my hand to shake his but all he did was look
down at the extended limb with a screwed up look on his face.
At length he said, "Well, yeah, right ... whatever," and walked away
without shaking my hand and left me standing there feeling foolish. I
could feel my face turning red with shame and I started to turn back to
stop him, thinking about how much I had always liked Kit. Besides Gary,
he was one of maybe two or three others that I really called friends
outside of the band. I looked after him as he walked back to the
whatever-it-was and started to work with Frank to get it in the house.
"About time!" Frank shouted as Kit returned to the front door. "I need
to fucking piss and this thing is in my way."
"Why don't you just shut up for while?" Kit snapped back.
"That's your fault BITCH," that small quite voice in my head told me.
"Well, OK," I heard Frank mutter.
I didn't go over to him. I was too embarrassed.
"Get that furniture moved yet?" It was Gary behind me.
"Eek!" I squeaked. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I nearly peed."
"OK, OK," he said laughing. "I'm sorry, but what about it -- the
furniture?" He was, of course talking about the furniture in the room
he had proposed for me.
"You're kidding right? I can't take that room Gary. That's got to be
the master bedroom. I'm not contributing here. That should be your
room. I mean look at this place!" I waived my arms around saying, "It
must be costing a fortune!"
"Dad owns the building." It was said so matter-of-factly that I could
only gawk in amazement. Gary nodded and bit into an apple he'd been
holding. "True. He's selling these flats off as condos and he gave us
this one. He's so happy that I decided to join the company, he would
have given me the building if had I asked."
"Gave?" I asked.
"Gave us."
"Gary ..."
"You need to learn to shut up and accept when people do something nice
for you. You take the bad pretty well -- you're strong that way -- but
you need to let others feel good when they do something to help." He
grinned at me. "That's advice," he said and walked off to see if he
could help Kit and Frank.
On the stairs I could hear Frank Sr., Gary's Dad and Norm -- I would
start calling him Norman before much longer for some unknown reason --
wrestling with yet more furniture.
I quickly chased after Gary again and this time caught him before he
got too far away. "Gary, where did all this stuff come from? That
bedroom suite, all this furniture, how can you afford all this stuff?"
"I've got a good job and I've got parents who want to help keep me on
the straight and narrow. They're thankful that you seem to have
straightened me out. It's the only way they know how to show their
appreciation. Believe me ... I didn't want them to go this far either,
but like I said, sometimes you just have to let people do what people
do."
"But Gary, that stuff. I can't accept it."
"No one's going to ask you to do anything for it Michelle, if that's
what you're afraid of."
I scowled at him, "You know that's not what I meant. It's just not
right. I can't pay them back."
"You really don't get it do you?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
"Get what?" I asked.
"They're paying you back. They feel they have a debt to pay to you.
When all I could do was think of finding you and providing a place for
you, they were worried. At first they thought I was jumping into a
relationship too fast; that I was having some kind of break down
connected to Mike's disappearance. But when I asked for a job, they
stopped asking questions, both of them. It was amazing. Mom suddenly
warmed to the idea of us moving in together. The next day she suggested
this place. You see, I didn't ask for any thing except a job."
I stood there floored by what he was telling me.
"Be light of heart for now. No one's going to start shouting 'Margin
Call!' OK?" He rubbed my smooth shoulder with one hand, which was warm
and rough on my skin. It felt good to have him touch me. I dared not
tell him that, but it did. I missed it already.
He walked away, confident in his stride, God he was so good looking, so
kind. How is it I had seen him so differently before? I shook my head.
"Oh no you don't! There will be no falling in love with him, do you
hear?" and a small voice that was not my own said, "Too late!"
I was suddenly slammed with a memory. It was as if it had really
happened. I could smell the memory; remember the tactile experience of
it, the feeling of vertigo as I had looked down at a floor that was not
there and furniture that floated over nothing. My head swam with the
reality of the feeling and I fell over where I stood. I was aware that
Gary and Kit were both running over to where I now lay on the floor.
They were shouting something, but it seemed garbled.
I could see Erin on her bed in my mind's eye. Suddenly I couldn't
breath. "Dream a little dream with me," she sang.
"Gary!" I croaked. "The dream."
Next I was on the couch. My forehead was damp and cold. Karen was there
somewhere close by as I could hear her and Gary were arguing. "She has
to go to the hospital Gary, I thought you cared about her?"
"I do Mom, but she can't go there not right now. Please don't ask me to
explain. I can't."
"This is not right Gary. She ... Oh honey you're awake. Are you OK?
Gary, go get another cold compress for her head."
"I was just telling Gary you need medical attention, so I'm going to
get you down to my HOV and get..."
"I can't." I said terrified.
"What? Dear really, you can't..."
"Please. Gary's right. I'm fine," I pleaded.
"Honey, if money's a problem. I'll be happy to pay." I suddenly got the
irrational idea that she was probing for something, a hint or an idea
that she was on to more than she was letting on.
"Karen, can I be honest with you?"
"Sure dear." I though I caught just a glimpse of a smile there, but I
couldn't be sure. "You can tell me anything."
"I don't have any identification." I hung my head as if ashamed and in
reality I was ashamed. Ashamed of what I had become, of the fact that I
had allowed my life to get so screwed up, that I was now a cripple.
"But ... But ..." she seemed at a loss for words. "Everyone knows you
just don't exist in this world with being registered, except for those
on the 'fringe' and they are not pretty young women that look like they
stepped out of a fashion VID some place."
"It's a long story..."
"I'd love to hear it." She started to sit down next to me as if I would
just start weaving a tale to enthrall when Gary interceded.
"Mom? You want her to tell you her life story now? After she's had a
fainting spell?"
Karen blushed for just a moment. She was used to charging in where
others feared to tread so-to speak. Every once in a while it got the
best of her. Thankfully this was one of those times and Gary had been
quick to capitalize on it.
"Look it's been a long day," he suddenly announced. "She needs some
rest."
"Gary," his Mom whispered. "We have to talk about this."
"Later Mom," he said sternly and she backed down. "I know what I'm
doing."
"Thanks for your help getting us moved in. Really. Thanks. Norm, take
some of those beers with you. No that's fine, go ahead." Gary said
hustling everyone toward the stairs and the door to the street below.
Kit came by the couch that he had helped wrestled in the building and
where I was now laying. He bent over smiling, "You OK?" he asked
softly.
"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry," he held a finger up to my lips silencing me.
"I think I understand. Don't give it another thought."
"I think you know how I feel don't you?" I asked. He looked up at Gary
showing everyone out, thanking them as they left, while shaking hands.
"He's a lucky guy. Yeah, I think I know."
"Speaking strictly from a new perspective here," I said. "You're pretty
wonderful too." This time he did take my hand and kiss it ever so
tenderly.
"Second place isn't so bad," he acknowledged. "Once you get used to
it."
I smiled at him. "So I'm forgiven?"
"Only if you promise me a dance and a kiss on New Year's."
"Done!" I exclaimed and with that he patted my hand and strode to the
kitchen. I remember thinking to myself, "I'm going to have to get him
to teach me how to do that."
Gary gave everyone but Kit the bum's rush, then joined me franticly at
the couch. "Please tell me you're OK. Please ..." He was kneeling next
to the couch and he had taken my hand. He looked about to cry.
"I'm OK. I just fainted."
"Really. If you need to get medical attention I can find it for you,
but if you have to go to the hospital, they'll bust you for sure."
"I'm OK." I smiled to show that it was true, but my concerns for deeper
questions keep the smile from feeling sincere.
"Whew. You have to stop doing shit like that. I can't take much more of
it." He relaxed and sat back against the front of the couch.
"You're Mom knows something Gary. This was the worst possible thing
that could have happened, my moving in with you."
"What are you talking about?"
"One day Gary and already the questions are coming. That's what I'm
talking about."
Kit came in from the kitchen. "You guys want to rent me a room?"
"Yes," I said
"No," Gary said.
"Tie goes to the lady!" He declared. I wrinkled my face at the sound of
that. Now that everyone was back to being the way I was used to seeing
them, it was even harder to picture myself the way I had been left.
"You have a place," Gary retorted. "And what do you mean only one day?"
"I fainted and your Mom wanted to take me to the hospital. What if I
hadn't woken in time? I'd be there right now, waiting to be arrested."
Gary ran his hand over his forehead. "Man. I have to think about this."
"What are you two talking about?" Kit questioned.
"Getting caught," I answered. "You saw what happened today. That can't
happen again."
"Well," Kit said, "if you ask me, all you needed to do, if you're in
fact not truly ill, is have an excuse. Low blood sugar, fainting
spells, migraines, something -- not 'I don't know what's wrong.' That
kind of answer just screams 'We'll then lets find out what's wrong.'
Put me in a dress and call me Nancy ... er, sorry. What I meant was ...
Duh!"
I looked at Gary. "No shit, Duh!" And he said, "It's doubtful that
you're ill or ever will be. Engineering, you know?"
"You could even, you know, take some placebos or something just to make
it look convincing." Kit sipped a beer looking proud.
"No Vodka?" I asked and he shook his head and held up his hand as if he
never touched the stuff.
"I had to tell her that I didn't have ID. Brilliant!"
"That may be for the best." Gary said mater-of-factly.
"How's that for the best Gary?" I cried.
"Mom and Dad have connections. You have to these days in order to make
money at any business. Mom's the brain behind the business end of
things anyway. Dad's more of the artist. He likes to talk big, but it's
Mom that applies the grease to the wheels."
"We still need ID for you, papers -- a pedigree if you will." I quickly
leaped to all fours and started panting like a dog. Kit roared with
laughter but I think Gary was made a bit uncomfortable by the act so I
quit. "Anyway, I think she can get the ball rolling for us there,
quietly of course, but it may be best that she knows. Otherwise she
can't help. She maybe nosey but she's also helpful and will keep things
she finds out to herself. Trust me."
And I did trust him. I trusted him with my life, which was now in the
hands of his family and him. I trusted him so much in fact that I
decided to tell him what had made me faint.
"There's something else Gary," I started sheepishly.
"Huh?" He turned to look at me directly.
"I've seen Erin," I said and looked down at my hands in my lap, more I
think because I didn't want to see the reaction on his face than for
any other reason.
Silence.
"Did you hear...?" I looked up to see his face. Oh yeah, he'd heard --
and Kit had heard as well.
"What?" I asked.
I got nothing from either of them.
"I'm not crazy."
Still nothing.
"Stop looking at me like that. It's true."
"Maybe your Mom is right," Kit said. "She may have hit her head in the
fall. She should see a doctor."
"You're scaring me Michelle."
"I'M NOT CRAZY!" I insisted. "She said that I was going to have to stay
like this to prevent you from ... from ... Oh God! I am crazy," I
wailed and buried my face in my hands. "I've gone stark raving mad. I
can't handle being a girl!"
There were hands on mine trying to pry them away from my face. "Tell me
Michelle. Tell me what you think she said to you."
"No! Go away, I'm crazy. I've lost my fucking mind."
"Please," he said tenderly. It was that tenderness that always soothed
me. "I want to know."
I pulled my hands away from my face slowly and began with my fainting
spell. "Back when you were talking about all this stuff from your
parents. You said that it was for saving your life. That they were
paying me back for saving you from God knows what. Remember saying
that?"
Gary nodded.
"Since the change, I've had dreams. On the night all this started, when
we snuck back in to my dorm room, I woke up and freaked out, remember?
Well I had one that night. It was weird. I was in her room back in our
old house but it wasn't her room, see. It was ... oh never mind. What
she said was that I needed to save you from something but she never
said what it was. She never told me. Then she cast me in to a dress I
couldn't take off. It was scary as hell. I have to assume that she
meant that if I remained like this you would be saved."
I shook my head slowly. "I had forgotten about that dream until you
started talking about how you believed I had somehow turned your life
around." I reached out and took his face in my hands. "It was so real
Gary. I could touch her, feel her in my arms."
Gary had turned white as a ghost.
Kit was uncomfortable too. "Wow, look at the time." He didn't wear a
chronometer and there were no timepieces in the house yet. "Gotta run
you guys ... er, and ah ... gal. Don't get up, really. I can find my
own way out." He did too. Kit nearly sprinted out of the apartment
slamming the door as he left.
I was left holding Gary's face in total bewilderment. "Neither of you
believe me."
"No, quite the opposite. Personally, I can't see any reason for you to
lie about this. I also think that if you check that chair you'll find a
spot where Kit peed in it." The thought made me giggle just a little.
"That means I've never been in control of this thing since it started.
Erin or whatever wanted to change me into a girl from the word 'go.' I
was set up!"
Then another thought occurred to me. "What if our friendship is a hoax,
set up just so that you wouldn't meet an untimely end?"
"Now wait a minute," he started, but I cut him off. The wheels were
turning now.
"But how can that be?" Because if Erin hadn't died there would have
been no one on the, quote-unquote other side to have manipulate me.
Unless...."
"Michelle, I can see where you're going with this. Your sister's death
was an accident. There just can't be any forces at work here conspiring
against and entire family to save one miserable soul, and you know
that. Don't you?"
"I'm not sure I know anything any more Gary. I want to go to bed."
"Wait. Please, Michelle. Don't leave me like that. Let's talk about it.
Do you know how irrational that sounds?" I was already off the couch
and on my way to the bedroom.
He called after me to stay one more time. I simply said, "Goodnight,
Gary," and shut my door. I don't know what he did after that for nearly
twenty-four hours.
The sad thing is that when we did see each other again. I was distant
and mistrustful. I spent a great deal of time in my room reading or
watching the VID. I couldn't go out often during the day. It was too
much of a risk. Get known in an area and people want to know about you.
It's safer being a stranger believe it or not. Folks just don't want to
have much to do with strangers. Consequently, strangers don't get asked
a lot of questions unless they're acting suspicious.
Thus, the tension grew. Gary was wonderful, for the most part. He tried
to involve me, to get me to take part in some of life's grand festival,
but I refused. I even withdrew from taking my meals with him when he
got home from the restaurant. Even after he would spend all day
overseeing the operation of the kitchen and work late in to the diner
schedule, he would still come home and prepare a wonderful meal for
"us" -- a meal that I would more often refuse to eat until he had gone
to bed in frustration; only then would I pick at it. My pride was
growing by the minute and its' teeth were as big and sharp as that of a
saber tooth cat.
The situation with my attitude wasn't helped by the fact that all I was
doing was taking. I was no longer a member of the team. I was the soul
benefactor of the team. I was a leach, a sponge, a freaking charity
case. No matter how I tried to help I was told, "That's OK," or "Don't
try to do too much," or "No, no. Don't worry about that. We'll get it
dear." It made me want to barf and scream and run away all at the same
time. I was beginning to understand just what it felt like to be a
prisoner. I grew more resentful as time went on and Karen became more
and more nosy.
She would come over in the afternoon and bring drapes or furnishings or
something she had picked out that would be, "Just wonderful here in the
corner, don't you think?" But there wasn't a question of whether or not
I would like it or want it or feel like burning it in the fireplace. It
was going to stay there. She might have well just said, "Get used to
it."
It was more of an excuse, I think, to come over and pry. I had used
quite a bit of my remaining tuition money to buy clothes, some personal
things and was using the rest to contribute to the joint food supply.
Gary hid the other bills and refused money from me when offered so I
quit trying. Karen always wanted know how much Gary had spent on my
wardrobe or at least pieces of it at a time to try to conceal the fact
that what she really wanted was to know where I was getting money from.
I have to admit. She tried to be pleasant. I had to remind myself that
we had once been friends. But Gary and I had once been friends too and
that was quickly deteriorating in to the biggest pile of shit I'd ever
seen.
I couldn't get the idea that my family had been destroyed -- no,
singled out and obliterated, used as tools from the time of Gary's
birth to make sure that forces of evil didn't befall him and cause him
distress and pain. It was the idea that we, my family, as dysfunctional
as we had been, had existed only for this purpose. The thought made me
madder than hell. Didn't my father and mother have feelings? Would my
childhood have been different if they hadn't have been manipulated? Is
that why we were kept in relative poverty? And what about my sister?
She had been so talented. Was she breaking the mold? Did the forces
that kept us down for the sake of "The Plan," as I was beginning to
refer to it, see that she was becoming a threat and took her out or had
she been planed to draw the short straw from the very beginning?
"No, No, NO!" I would tell myself. What kind of God would do that? Was
there even a God? There was no force in the sky or earth that would do
that to an entire family. My Dad had been at the controls of the HOV
when Erin had been killed for Christ's sake. Was it part of "The Plan,"
that my Dad suffer the way he had as the one responsible for taking her
life? Wouldn't it have been more humane for her to die at someone
else's hands, more humane for her, for him, hell for all of us -- or
was that part of the plan too? With my parent's in everlasting
repentance, it was much easier for the neglected son to vanish wasn't
it? For him to become a tool of the "The Plan," damn his life anyway,
this is what he'd been born to do. So why not let me be born as girl in
the first place, if that was the lot I had drawn in life. Why make me
do this now?
I wanted to find the architects of this so-called "Plan" and ring their
celestial necks. I wanted to scream in their faces and let them know
that they were fucking with the lives of human beings down there. I
wanted to know who in the hell they thought they were. I brooded over
this for quite a while, months in fact. Then I decided that I had
completed my task under "The Plan." Gary was safe and I was going home
-- I would find a way home.
I spent hours researching the possibility of overriding the error codes
in that transmitter. I still had it, although I had had to go retrieve
it from my hiding place under the Franklin overpass. Amazingly it
hadn't rained since Gary put me up at the Concord nor had anyone found
it and disposed of it.
I remember thinking about the architects of 'The Plan', "Very sloppy. A
couple of loose ends in `The Plan'. Not a very professional job if you
ask me."
With some time and effort I found a guy, an electronic engineer who was
rumored to do work on "things like that -- for a price." It was
dangerous looking for such a guy so going to see him was even worse. If
I could find out about him, it was a certainty that others higher up
would have access to that information, but this was my only chance. I
had about $3,000 in cash left; not a lot, but maybe enough -- just
maybe.
- * -
I can only imagine what Gary was going through at this time. He never
complained. Instead, he buried himself in his work. We spoke but it was
only off handedly. There were times when we would sit and play a board
game or watch something on the VID. As I found out more and more
information about the possibly of actually being able to get back to my
life I warmed to him a bit. I began thinking that maybe he was as much
of a pawn as I was in all this. Then I would think something stupid
like, "What if he were really meant for some sort of greatness in the
future. Wouldn't your family be personally responsible for getting him
to that point? Is that not a distinguished point of honor in a person's
life, the person behind the person so-to-speak?"
In spite of my rebellious brain, my friendship with him began to
blossom again, to a lesser degree than before, but we were at least
speaking. That was better than being cold stony co-habitants of the
same apartment.
On the fourth month, I went to see Derrick Hitchman. I took public
transportation everywhere I went. Frank and Karen had given us a HOV
along with everything else -- they were much more wealthy than I had
ever suspected before -- but it stayed parked in the building's
underground parking garage. Gary walked to work and I, with no
"pedigree," didn't want to risk getting stopped driving the thing.
Derrick's "Shop" was not far from the warehouse where I had been
"born." I got off the public HOV and made my way along the line of
dirty, rundown shops and storefronts of this once prosperous side of
town. The weather had been warmer when I had awakened that morning, so
I had decided to wear a skirt thinking things would warm up further,
but it was already October and winter comes quick to this part of the
country. The wind blew from across the harbor, blowing in from the
North Atlantic and made me wish I had worn pants.
The wind swirled and blew under my skit. It was all I could do to keep
it down around my knees, never mind keeping warm.
I could hear another public HOV approaching from behind. I was so cold
now that I had convinced myself to take the dead transmitter in my
purse and go home; maybe try again another day. As I turned around to
hail the driver down, my eye caught a glimpse of the shop, "Hitchman
Circuits."
I walked in to find a litter filled, dirty little place strewn with
electronics, monitors circuit boards, broken old style CRT's and Bubble
transmitters. They lay in piles against the walls and in corners,
stacked on chairs and on the counter where customers might transact
business. There was what seemed like an inch of dust on everything with
few exceptions. Some of the piles seemed as if they had been disturbed,
perhaps raided for parts or simply randomly explored as if they hid
some long forgotten treasure. Behind the counter was a single door. It
was closed, but beneath it shown a light. Someone was home, presumably
Derrick. The place gave me the creeps.
"Maybe this is a bad idea." I was just about to go and see if it was
too late to catch that HOV when something -- it appeared to be human --
came out of that back room. This alleged life form was white and thin -
- ghastly thin. It's hair hung in long oily tendrils from all around
the sides but it was bald at the top. It appeared to be a thousand
years old and walked with a stoop, but the thing moved surprisingly
fast to be as old as it looked.
"Ah," it said in a gravely voice. "A customer. And a pretty one at
that." It leered at me.
"No, I made a mistake. Thanks just the same," I tried and made for the
door.
"I think not. Why don't you tell me what you came here for?"
"Because I've reconsidered," I told him.
"You wouldn't be here, not a girl of your talents, were it not
important. I can fix it for you." I went instantly cold. "He knows too.
What is it? Do I have a fucking sign tattooed on my forehead?"
I cautiously asked, "Fix what?"
"Whatever that is sticking out of your purse," he replied pointing.
"Damn it! That could have fallen out."
"That's OK, really. It's not really broken. I'll just come..."
"Patch code transmitter, right?" I know I went dead white.
"Please ... let me go home. I've changed my mind."
"No need to worry. You want to play with a skin. Find out how the other
half lives? That's a dangerous road to girly."
"You know, you're right. I'll just go home." All I wanted to do was get
out of there.
"Don't you move a muscle sweetie. The cops watch this place you know.
You come in and out too quickly and they'll think you're up to
something. Maybe I should just hold on to that for you?" He plucked the
transmitter out of my purse with the deft skill of a pickpocket.
I felt sick to my stomach. My head was spinning. My confusion of the
last few months was now compounded by the fear of cops and this freaky
little man that had my last link out of the game.
"This one's been used. It's no good girly. What do you want this for?
Come on ... tell me quick! Your dealing in a forbidden taboo."
I started to cry. I wasn't ashamed of it this time. I was badly scared.
"I want to go hooooooommme," I wailed miserably. Suddenly, my life
didn't look so bad after all. "Please don't turn me in. I just mad