At the Watkins' House (Junior Year)
Me and Daisy were hanging out at her house, playing a game. I sat on her squeaky leather couch, wearing a blindfold, while she collected some pieces of random junk and put them on the coffee table one by one.
"What's this?" Daisy asked.
"A can," I said, pointing at the thing. This was an easy one.
"What kind of can?" Daisy said, clearly proud of her own cleverness.
I frowned behind the blindfold, trying to focus on the can's contents, but I just couldn't pierce the metal.
"Soup?" I guessed.
"Nope. Corn. How about this?"
I smiled. This was a trick question. "Nothing."
Daisy laughed. "Nothing! Is this nothing?" Something soft hit me in the face and I grabbed it, peaked under the blindfold. A crumpled up kleenex.
"And this?" Instead of putting something on the table, Daisy leaned over, kissed me. Quickly, before I got too distracted, I reached into my pocket and got out a zap cap, drained my batteries. Daisy was used to accidental shocks by now, but I always felt bad when it happened.
Pretty soon we were both on the couch, her laying on top of me, playing with my hair, kissing my neck. I almost didn't notice her dad's car drive up.
The door opened and Daisy's parents walked in to see us playing the guessing game again, me sitting on the couch, Daisy on the floor, swapping out the can of corn for a shoe.
"Hey, Mr Watkins," I said, waving.
"Virgil," Mr Watkins said, nodding. I lifted up my blindfold to see him giving me and Daisy a stern, serious look. "Daisy, have you finished your homework?"
"Yes," Daisy groaned, rolling her eyes.
"Even the Chinese?" her dad asked, and Daisy shot back something in the foreign language. She'd tried to teach me some, but I never seemed to progress beyond ni-hao. Richie on the other hand could hold full conversations with her, which totally wasn't fair.
Mr Watkins nodded. "Carry on." He hung his keys on a hook by the door and left us to our game.
After a little while Daisy ran out of ideas for random things and we both sat on the floor, leaning against the couch, her playing with my hair again.
"What's it like?" Daisy asked.
I tugged on a dread. "Not that different. I have to put oil in them sometimes, but it's not like I don't have to wash it."
Daisy snorted. "I mean the electro-sense."
I'd figured as much, I just liked to tease her. I closed my eyes again, the better to think about it. "I think it's kinda like what bats do. You know, echolocation. Only it's not like hearing. I guess when I talk about it I say "feel," so maybe it's like touch? Only with touch, you can only feel stuff on your skin, but this is stuff outside me." I shrugged. It was really hard to explain, actually. Kind of like explaining a rainbow to a blind guy. I was so used to it now, it was hard to remember what the world felt like before getting exposed. I could turn it off, just like I could close my eyes or plug my ears, but it made me feel... limited. It also made me feel kind of sorry for everybody else, who didn't have this extra sense.
It was dumb to feel that way, I knew, since everybody else got along just fine. But worse than that, it was dangerous even, because pity for someone else was half a step away from thinking yourself superior. And then I wouldn't be any better than Ebon.
"You know," Daisy said, pulling out the braid she'd just done. "It kinda reminds me of this girl at Vanmoor who had perfect pitch. You'd play any note and she'd just know if it was a C or an F-sharp or whatever."
"That's a real thing?" I asked, resisting the urge to kiss her right then and there. Daisy always knew just what to say, how to not make a big deal out of stuff, how to make me feel normal.
Author's note:
Ah, teenagers. Doing the things teenagers do. (making out)
Fun fact: sharks and various species of fish (also bees and cockroaches!) really do have what Virgil calls his "electro-sense" (really the term is electroreception). Also, check out MRI scans of fruit for an idea for what stuff might "look" like with electroreception. It's neat!