A/N: This is going to be a story of short chapters, because it's just
hitting me in bursts like this. still, it's coming along. Please review.
HEJIRA - Chapter 2
Let's back up a bit. I work nights waitressing at a restaurant. At least, that's what the owners call it, but the food is just an excuse. It's definitely not a family place, no booths, and smoke hangs thick in the air around gambling tables and the stage. I'm not on stage, I could but I don't. I'm not sure why exactly. I waitress, strictly, but I don't wear much so I get great tips for doing nothing but using what was given to me, the beauty that's written into my genetic code. My boss loves me, I'm responsible for half the new customers in this place and I don't even strip or go out back like some of the girls. They hate me, but I don't care about them. My boss isn't going to be happy when I tell him I'm pregnant, but I figure I won't be showing for a few months anyway, why say anything at all?
He came in for the first time about six weeks ago, he'd been on the road, I could smell it. He wasn't looking for a place like this, he just wanted some cheap food. The girls were a surprise to him, I could tell, and I was glad for that. Now he's settled here in Salt Lake, though I'm sure it wasn't his intended destination, and I serve him dinner at least once a week, sometimes more often. The other girls thought from the start that he just wanted to get into my pants, but I ignored them and served him his dinner, making small-talk for as long and as often as I could get away with it. I knew he was Zane though I always called him by his alias, Alex, and he knew I was Tinga though he always called me Penny. I guess we both decided it would work out better that way, we could pretend not to care about each other, we could pretend not to be family, so that if he had to be taken away, like we both knew eventually he would, it wouldn't hurt us. That was the theory, anyway. Every so often I really wondered if he believed it was really going to happen that way. He was so innocent, even after everything, that sometimes I think he did.
It was a cold winter night when we had our first out-of-work conversation, when I first heard him say my name, my real name. I was heading for my car and I heard him behind me. I turned and smiled at him, pulling out my keys but not getting into the car. He walked over to me, stopped a couple of feet away. His eyes were always intense in Manticore and they haven't changed. His smile's just as vivacious and warm, though much more frequent out here than it was back there. My smile is less friendly, more guarded, smaller. I was the child in the shadows.
"Tinga," he said softly, and that time I didn't smile, because suddenly I knew what was going on. My keys went back in my pocket though I'd been planning to unlock the door of my car and drive away. I smiled at him, sultry.
"Zane," I answered, and then he was on me, pressing me back against the brick wall of the restaurant, kissing me, pulling at my clothes. I hadn't realized until the moment he'd said my name, but obviously he'd smelled it on me a mile away. Somehow, we stumbled into a building nearby, an abandoned one, or mostly. There were a few drunks in there, but they all left pretty quickly after Zane growled dangerously at them to get lost. Then he pulled me down on the floor with him on a bunch of old blankets or something else relatively soft, not that I cared at that point. Even in heat he was gentle, loving, even romantic. Zane had a funny way of being romantic in the strangest, sweetest circumstances. I liked that.
It was a few days before I was finally finished, and I gathered my clothes, most of which were torn and useless, as Zane did the same. We were a little embarrassed I think, the nature of our relationship had just changed drastically, though really it was neither of our faults. I stroked his hair and called him baby brother and told him I was involved with someone. He nodded, asked me if I was happy, and I said yes because really, I was. Even after that my desire to be with Charlie didn't waver. I guess Zane was the ultimate test of that. I had the most fulfilling, most primally right sex of my life with Zane, but I still wanted Charlie. Maybe it was that night that I completely realized how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. We'd talked about it a few times, but it was only after Zane that I became certain.
Long story short, I didn't tell Charlie. I said I'd had some family business to take care of, apologized for making him worry, made love to him, and added this to a long list of things that I would tell him one day, someday.
It was spring when Case was born, warm outside. I liked the name, always had. It was a home birth, just in case. No barcode. No imperfections. I watched him like a hawk, for weeks, months. No seizures. He cried a lot. A perfectly normal baby.
I know what you're thinking, and you can put all that out of your head right now. I never had a father, I was never allowed that, but I know who Case's is. Your father is the person who loves you and raises you and takes care of you. And anyway, I never knew for sure either way.
* * *
It was only when Case started talking at four months that I wondered, and when he started on calculus at three years old that I got scared. Charlie loved it, he was so proud of Case, he had such plans for schools and great accomplishments for our toddler. Charlie is so naïve it's started to make me sick, really.
Zane has been long gone for months, Zack moved him somewhere, and me and Charlie are in Portland now. I don't really expect to see Zane again for years, maybe never, Zack has been cracking down on his isolation rule since I've had a baby, punishing me. I'm the only one in the unit with children. as far as I know, anyway. Unless you include Zane. Which I don't.
Zack shows up every so often on rounds, but this time he comes early, on Case's fourth birthday, and that annoyed me because it means that he was hanging around enough to know when his birthday is. He came to work, not my home, he didn't want to see Charlie and though he probably does want to see Case he's not about to risk running into the husband to get a look at the son. I'd thought about getting a job like my Salt Lake one when we'd moved to Portland, but the money wasn't worth the indecency, and suddenly with a small chlid I cared about being decent. I applied to a few different places, a few corporations needing receptionists on the ritzy side of town, a bakery near our house, and a daycare three blocks away. The daycare, bakery, and two of the offices called me for interviews, but when Zack showed up he said big corporations are too high-profile and he didn't want me getting any ideas into my head about more babies. So I took the bakery job, and I like it a lot. I like my life a lot. Maybe I wasn't speaking such an untruth when I told Zack I was going to be happy, even if it had felt like it at the time.
"Here," Zack says, tossing me a wad of cash. I put it in my pocket and offer him some fresh bread, and I'm surprised when he takes it.
"Tell me about the others," I say, and he shakes his head.
"You know the rule," is all he says. I make a face and take my break, sitting down with him at a back table. "How's the kid?" he asks.
"Case is fine," I say coolly. "Why don't you ever come to see him?"
"I do," Zack says.
"I meant publicly."
"I think you know the answer to that."
"It's his birthday today," I tell him.
"I know," Zack answers, and I let a long silence pass between us. I want to say more, but he's not exactly being very friendly about talking. He glances up at me and reads my expression easily. "What is it?"
"He's. special," I say, and Zack puts the bread down slowly.
"How so?" he asks, instantly giving me all his attention. I fill him in the way he gets his work done ages before the other children, even the ones two or three years older, how he started talking early, how good he is with math, how much he understands, uncannily so for a child of his age. By the end of it I'm as tense as he is.
"Should I go on?" I ask, stressed. He shakes his head slowly.
"Let me think," he says. I put my hand on his arm.
"What should I do?" I whisper, and I hate the weakness I'm showing, but I'll forgo my pride, anything to keep Case safe. Zack looks at me, his eyes are sad. I jerk my hand back and shake my head. "I'm not giving him up."
"He'll be safer."
"I don't care."
"You'll be safer too."
"I don't care!"
"You're so selfish!" Zack stands up and I do too, my eyes flash angrily at him. He doesn't like it that I'm almost as tall as he is.
"My break's over now," I hiss. "Thanks for the money." I turn away but he grabs my arm.
"Tinga-"
"Penny," I growl, jerking my arm away. "Penny Smith, I'm married Zack, I'm not just walking away."
"Fine," Zack says, low, and he turns and leaves the bakery. I won't see him again for years, but at this point I don't care, all I care about is that he's so stupid and so unbelievably insensitive, and as much as I love him I hate him more right now.
HEJIRA - Chapter 2
Let's back up a bit. I work nights waitressing at a restaurant. At least, that's what the owners call it, but the food is just an excuse. It's definitely not a family place, no booths, and smoke hangs thick in the air around gambling tables and the stage. I'm not on stage, I could but I don't. I'm not sure why exactly. I waitress, strictly, but I don't wear much so I get great tips for doing nothing but using what was given to me, the beauty that's written into my genetic code. My boss loves me, I'm responsible for half the new customers in this place and I don't even strip or go out back like some of the girls. They hate me, but I don't care about them. My boss isn't going to be happy when I tell him I'm pregnant, but I figure I won't be showing for a few months anyway, why say anything at all?
He came in for the first time about six weeks ago, he'd been on the road, I could smell it. He wasn't looking for a place like this, he just wanted some cheap food. The girls were a surprise to him, I could tell, and I was glad for that. Now he's settled here in Salt Lake, though I'm sure it wasn't his intended destination, and I serve him dinner at least once a week, sometimes more often. The other girls thought from the start that he just wanted to get into my pants, but I ignored them and served him his dinner, making small-talk for as long and as often as I could get away with it. I knew he was Zane though I always called him by his alias, Alex, and he knew I was Tinga though he always called me Penny. I guess we both decided it would work out better that way, we could pretend not to care about each other, we could pretend not to be family, so that if he had to be taken away, like we both knew eventually he would, it wouldn't hurt us. That was the theory, anyway. Every so often I really wondered if he believed it was really going to happen that way. He was so innocent, even after everything, that sometimes I think he did.
It was a cold winter night when we had our first out-of-work conversation, when I first heard him say my name, my real name. I was heading for my car and I heard him behind me. I turned and smiled at him, pulling out my keys but not getting into the car. He walked over to me, stopped a couple of feet away. His eyes were always intense in Manticore and they haven't changed. His smile's just as vivacious and warm, though much more frequent out here than it was back there. My smile is less friendly, more guarded, smaller. I was the child in the shadows.
"Tinga," he said softly, and that time I didn't smile, because suddenly I knew what was going on. My keys went back in my pocket though I'd been planning to unlock the door of my car and drive away. I smiled at him, sultry.
"Zane," I answered, and then he was on me, pressing me back against the brick wall of the restaurant, kissing me, pulling at my clothes. I hadn't realized until the moment he'd said my name, but obviously he'd smelled it on me a mile away. Somehow, we stumbled into a building nearby, an abandoned one, or mostly. There were a few drunks in there, but they all left pretty quickly after Zane growled dangerously at them to get lost. Then he pulled me down on the floor with him on a bunch of old blankets or something else relatively soft, not that I cared at that point. Even in heat he was gentle, loving, even romantic. Zane had a funny way of being romantic in the strangest, sweetest circumstances. I liked that.
It was a few days before I was finally finished, and I gathered my clothes, most of which were torn and useless, as Zane did the same. We were a little embarrassed I think, the nature of our relationship had just changed drastically, though really it was neither of our faults. I stroked his hair and called him baby brother and told him I was involved with someone. He nodded, asked me if I was happy, and I said yes because really, I was. Even after that my desire to be with Charlie didn't waver. I guess Zane was the ultimate test of that. I had the most fulfilling, most primally right sex of my life with Zane, but I still wanted Charlie. Maybe it was that night that I completely realized how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. We'd talked about it a few times, but it was only after Zane that I became certain.
Long story short, I didn't tell Charlie. I said I'd had some family business to take care of, apologized for making him worry, made love to him, and added this to a long list of things that I would tell him one day, someday.
It was spring when Case was born, warm outside. I liked the name, always had. It was a home birth, just in case. No barcode. No imperfections. I watched him like a hawk, for weeks, months. No seizures. He cried a lot. A perfectly normal baby.
I know what you're thinking, and you can put all that out of your head right now. I never had a father, I was never allowed that, but I know who Case's is. Your father is the person who loves you and raises you and takes care of you. And anyway, I never knew for sure either way.
* * *
It was only when Case started talking at four months that I wondered, and when he started on calculus at three years old that I got scared. Charlie loved it, he was so proud of Case, he had such plans for schools and great accomplishments for our toddler. Charlie is so naïve it's started to make me sick, really.
Zane has been long gone for months, Zack moved him somewhere, and me and Charlie are in Portland now. I don't really expect to see Zane again for years, maybe never, Zack has been cracking down on his isolation rule since I've had a baby, punishing me. I'm the only one in the unit with children. as far as I know, anyway. Unless you include Zane. Which I don't.
Zack shows up every so often on rounds, but this time he comes early, on Case's fourth birthday, and that annoyed me because it means that he was hanging around enough to know when his birthday is. He came to work, not my home, he didn't want to see Charlie and though he probably does want to see Case he's not about to risk running into the husband to get a look at the son. I'd thought about getting a job like my Salt Lake one when we'd moved to Portland, but the money wasn't worth the indecency, and suddenly with a small chlid I cared about being decent. I applied to a few different places, a few corporations needing receptionists on the ritzy side of town, a bakery near our house, and a daycare three blocks away. The daycare, bakery, and two of the offices called me for interviews, but when Zack showed up he said big corporations are too high-profile and he didn't want me getting any ideas into my head about more babies. So I took the bakery job, and I like it a lot. I like my life a lot. Maybe I wasn't speaking such an untruth when I told Zack I was going to be happy, even if it had felt like it at the time.
"Here," Zack says, tossing me a wad of cash. I put it in my pocket and offer him some fresh bread, and I'm surprised when he takes it.
"Tell me about the others," I say, and he shakes his head.
"You know the rule," is all he says. I make a face and take my break, sitting down with him at a back table. "How's the kid?" he asks.
"Case is fine," I say coolly. "Why don't you ever come to see him?"
"I do," Zack says.
"I meant publicly."
"I think you know the answer to that."
"It's his birthday today," I tell him.
"I know," Zack answers, and I let a long silence pass between us. I want to say more, but he's not exactly being very friendly about talking. He glances up at me and reads my expression easily. "What is it?"
"He's. special," I say, and Zack puts the bread down slowly.
"How so?" he asks, instantly giving me all his attention. I fill him in the way he gets his work done ages before the other children, even the ones two or three years older, how he started talking early, how good he is with math, how much he understands, uncannily so for a child of his age. By the end of it I'm as tense as he is.
"Should I go on?" I ask, stressed. He shakes his head slowly.
"Let me think," he says. I put my hand on his arm.
"What should I do?" I whisper, and I hate the weakness I'm showing, but I'll forgo my pride, anything to keep Case safe. Zack looks at me, his eyes are sad. I jerk my hand back and shake my head. "I'm not giving him up."
"He'll be safer."
"I don't care."
"You'll be safer too."
"I don't care!"
"You're so selfish!" Zack stands up and I do too, my eyes flash angrily at him. He doesn't like it that I'm almost as tall as he is.
"My break's over now," I hiss. "Thanks for the money." I turn away but he grabs my arm.
"Tinga-"
"Penny," I growl, jerking my arm away. "Penny Smith, I'm married Zack, I'm not just walking away."
"Fine," Zack says, low, and he turns and leaves the bakery. I won't see him again for years, but at this point I don't care, all I care about is that he's so stupid and so unbelievably insensitive, and as much as I love him I hate him more right now.