Another chapter with Stanford... I would be especially interested in feedback on this and the previous chapter.
Heroes and Idols
Wichita eagerly picked up the phone, absolutely certain who it would be. "Hi, lover," she said.
On the other end of the line, Columbus coughed. Tal grinned, the chief looked impatient, and Strangelove just looked thoughtful. "Hi... hon," he said. "Listen, uh, can I talk to Little Rock?"
"Sure, just a moment..." Little Rock, sitting on the same bed, raised her eyebrows. "So, did your day go any better...?" He answered almost boisterously, loud enough for little Rock to listen in and smile, and at greater length than necessary. Wichita also smiled, but there was a hint of disappointment on her face. "So, you won't be back in time for dinner?"
"No," Columbus said, "I probably won't be back till after general curfew. So, uh, don't wait up for me... I can send Tal up, the chief agreed to let him out... Okay, long as you're all right... Um... Could I talk to Little Rock now?"
Little Rock took the phone. "Yeah... Fine... I'll be right down."
She hung up and looked curiously at her sister. "Go, I'll be fine," Wichita said.
Ten minutes later, still sitting at the same spot, she began to cry. Twenty minutes after that, she managed to dial the phone.
"Please realize, by professional ethics, I am forbidden to do anything remotely like this," Stanford said as he entered.
"Yeah, I think the boards are way past caring... Sit down," Wichita said. She was barely visible under the covers, but it was clear enough she was covered by little if anything else.
"I would rather stand," Stanford said politely.
"I'd rather you sit." Stanford sat, in the chair furthest from the bed.
After long minutes of silence, Stanford said, "I heard about the couple this morning. Very unfortunate." After a pointed pause, he continued, "Did you talk to him about it?"
"Yes. I got him in bed first, so he'd be less anxious," she said. "I know that's not going to be in anyone's book of healthy ways to communicate, but you've seen how tight he gets! Then we talked... about what we would do without me. He was a wreck, I mean total meltdown, just talking about it. But now he's at work, enjoying himself, and here I am."
It was the kind of remark where Stanford was in the habitat of leaning forward to show interest, but he made a point of keeping his posture entirely upright. "Why did you feel you needed to discuss it?"
"He thinks I'm stronger than he is," Wichita said, with surreal calm. "He thinks he needs me. I'm pretty sure he still thinks he doesn't deserve me. But it's not true. He's the one who's stronger, and other people can see it. I need him more than he needs me or anyone else. And I'm the one who doesn't deserve him." As she spoke, she clenched her teeth, while tears ran down her cheeks.
"Are you afraid he will leave you?" Stanford said.
"Actually, the damnedest thing... I'm more afraid that he won't!" Wichita said, her voice rising to a contralto screech. "He told me, once, when I asked him, that he fell in love with me because I was the first woman who was kind to him! Not a big self-esteem booster, is it? Number one in a field of one, just for acting like a decent human being!... And me for * sake!"
She spent a few minutes taking deep breaths, while Stanford studiously examined the curtains. Finally, she continued,"Sometimes I think about baby birds... You know, how birds imprint on whatever takes care of them. So, if a bird gets raised by people, it thinks it's one of them, and after that, it isn't interested in being with other birds, not even to mate with them! You'd think that would be pretty well hard-wired, but nope, apparently it takes learning. And I feel like I'm the one who raised the bird, only it was already a grown-up bird that never got what it should have had from the start... And now, he walks around my house, and sleeps in my bed, when he should spread his wings and fly away with the other birds."
"You think there is a better partner for him?" Stanford asked.
"How could there not be?" Wichita said. Under his curious gaze, she added, "I've seen him with somebody... He doesn't recognize it, maybe even she doesn't, but I do. She sees him like I did, when we met, and once he sees that, he'll know that what he thinks he's in love with me for is what he could have had from anybody all along, if he had just let people through."
"And you don't think anything else about you would be attractive to him?" She shook her head mutely. "Mightn't that be judging yourself too harshly, the same way you believe he judges himself too harshly?"
She sighed. "Nice try, doc, but it's not the same. He never did anything to the people who hurt him."
"All in all, I think what you are feeling are normal insecurities, about self-worth and the future of a new relationship," said Stanford. Leaning in, slightly, he said, "But why did you ask me here?"
"C'mon... You're one of the Thirty. You know what you did."
"Actually, not a great deal," Stanford said. "Events like that don't lend themselves to detailed observation, and memory is a treacherous thing. There are things I remember, things I think I remember, things the other four said they remembered- when there were still five of us... Then there are the stories... When I think of those, compared to what I can recall... Well, I could well despair, of memory and folklore both."
Wichita sat up, and he managed at exactly the same time to look at the floor. "Stanford... I've seen the footage."
Stanford met her gaze. "Really! I didn't know they had any." She nodded, and in her eyes he saw sympathy, admiration and a little outright awe. In his eyes, he saw the same.
"Something of an irony, isn't it? You seek my help understanding yourself, when I struggle with the same thing."
After a long silence, Wichita said, "Doc?" He gave a "hm?" of surprise. "Get out of here! I want to get dressed!" He was already on his way as she spoke.