8. Leave
Kim typed feverously into her datapad before the setting sun on the porch of her house. The scene was beautiful, but Kim had seen it a hundred times before so she was easily able to ignore it. Her muse, on the other hand, had bitten rather hard and her paper was finally flowing with ease. She'd jump up and down and throw a party if she wasn't afraid it would break her stride. So much time tinkering with this damn paper and finally she understood where it should have gone right from the start.
"What'cha doing, Mommy?" a young voice said from beside her. Kim paused and smiled as she looked at the girl standing beside her. "Writing again?"
Kim nodded. "Yeah, I've finally got the inspiration to finish my dissertation."
"What's a dissertation?" asked the little one.
"Well, it's a really big and long book that people who want to prove they're experts at something have to write. It takes a looooong time," Kim said. "But when you're done, everyone knows you're an expert. They'll call you 'doctor.'"
"Like Doctor PaiLing?"
Kim smiled. "Yes, she's an expert in pediatrics."
"Pedi...pediact... pediatrics?"
Kim ruffled the hair of her beautiful red-headed daughter. "You got it," she smiled.
"What does petat-- pediatrics mean?"
Kim put her datapad down on the bench and picked up the girl and rested her on her lap. "It means making little children better when they're sick."
"Am I sick?" The girl dressed in overalls tilted her head causing her little bob of hair to bounce playfully.
"No, sweetheart," said Kim. "But Daddy and I take you to see her just in case." Kim hugged her close. "You can't be too careful."
"Are you sick, mommy?"
Kim opened her mouth, but found she couldn't figure out what to say.
Thankfully Ron pulled up in the driveway.
"Daddy!" yelled the girl and hopped off her mother's lap to run to the car. When she got there, her tall blond father wearing a loosely fit white button down shirt and brown slacks picked her up and perched her on his shoulder. "Yay!" she cried.
"Hey there, Daddy," said Kim playfully as Ron stepped up onto the porch. He bent down and kissed his wife, their lips lingering just long enough that the little firecracker on his shoulder began pulling on his hair.
"A-yah!" he yelped.
"Daddy!" scolded the girl.
"What is it, Jules?" asked Ron before suddenly wincing. He'd done it again.
"Ju-lie," enunciated the redheaded youngster. "My name is Julie, not Jules."
"I remember," nodded Ron as the smaller girl released bunches of yellowish hair. Kim and Ron had gotten into the habit of referring to their daughter as Jules when she was just a year old. Then, when Julie became cognizant of her own name she began insisting that everyone pronounce it just right. Ron had ended up being the hardest to convert.
"I made a picture today," Julie announced. "It's really good!"
"It is, actually," chimed in Kim. "She captured all the evening colors just right in it."
"Mom!" insisted their daughter.
"Oops," said Kim, reddening. "Sorry."
"Why don't you show it to me," said Ron. "Before Mommy spoils it all."
"Okay!" The girl dashed off into the house.
Ron smiled and put his arm around his wife's waist. "So how were you today?"
Kim sighed and waved her datapad around. "I think I've had an inspiration, but I'm going to have to rewrite about ninety or so pages of my thesis. Other than that, Julie has been hopping around the house like mad today for some reason."
"Is it terrible threes or twos?" asked Ron.
"I think twos, but hyperactivity probably clocks in at three." They walked into the house after their daughter. "Actually she's not hyper, she's just excited I think. She really loves those crayons we got her. I think we may have an artist on our hands."
"An artist?" said Ron. "I don't have any of those genes, do you?"
"Not really," shrugged Kim. "But the old mailman did, I always meant to tell you, and I guess this is as good a time as any."
"Ha. Ha," intoned Ron.
"Look daddy!" said Julie as she ran over to the couple. They had paused in the living room, and Ron knelt to look closer at the large crayon colored drawing on oaktag paper.
"Wow," said Ron. "This is really good!" He carefully handled the drawing, looking at the colors. It was a sunset picture of their neighborhood. Kinda. The houses were curvy boxes and the grass seemed to spread out into the street, but the sky was perfect, even peppered with thin clouds condensing as they approached the horizon.
"You've done a great job, sweetie!" Ron complemented her and rustled her hair a bit. "What was your inspiration?"
"In...spiration?"
"Yeah, what were you thinking when you drew this?"
"I was thinking... about the sun!" announced the child.
Ron raised his eyebrows. "Hmm, yes, I can see that. You really did a good job on the sun."
"Yay!"
Kim kneeled beside them. "Very good job, Julie," she said. "Why don't you get some of your pictures and we can show them to Zita when she shows up?"
"Okay!" said Julie.
Ron slapped himself on the forehead. "I forgot Zita was coming," he said slowly the pushed himself back onto his feet. "I better get cooking or we'll be eating leftover lasagna."
Kim laughed. "I imagine anything leftover from your cooking would be miles better than what I could make."
"Don't say that, you've made some really great dishes since Julie was born."
"I don't have quite so much on my mind these days," admitted Kim. "It's easier for me to concentrate. But still, I'm only following directions, you can invent."
"Well, I don't think there's enough time for that tonight." Ron headed towards the kitchen. "Something mundane will have to do."
"I'm sure we'll love it," smiled Kim. "Hey, can you watch Julie while you cook, I need to do my forms."
"Sure," Ron nodded. He grabbed a black apron off the wall and pulled it over his head. "Bring her crayons in here, I'd like to see her draw."
Kim nodded and walked off toward Julie's room. She found her daughter digging through piles of papers, all covered in crayon, for apparently the one picture she couldn't find. Kim smiled at her daughter's talent. Her pictures weren't much now, but if she kept that enthusiasm her whole life, she was sure there were gallery openings in her future.
Silently, Kim sighed in relief. She was never quite sure how her own parents managed it, but if Julie had decided to follow in her and Ron's footsteps, Kim didn't think she'd ever sleep at night. Julie was her treasure, precious beyond belief, if anyone even thought mean things at her, Kim wasn't sure she could keep herself calm.
A few minutes later, Kim had settled Julie down by the kitchen table and had retired to their practice room. It used to be a garage, when Kim and Ron had first been given the house, but the large, empty room was perfectly sized to be a practice room. They had laid down padded flooring and finished the walls and ceiling simply, with a few full height mirrors. A handful of serene pictures and scriptures completed the practice hall, and Kim had spent at least an hour in there every day since.
Standing the in the center of the room, Kim slowly let out her breath, emptying her lungs entirely, before slowly sucking in a full breath of fresh air. As she breathed she slowed her heart rate, calming her body in a completely relaxed state. Once calmed, she reached out with her senses, trying to feel the movement of the air and muffled sounds from the kitchen. She felt the cool touch of the padded floor beneath her bare feet and could smell the faint whispers of the cleaning agent they used to wipe the floors.
Slowly, but gracefully, Kim extended her arms, maintaining perfect balance, and moved them into the first form, letting her knees bend and move, to keep steady. She had her eyes closed, but kept her head pointed at a fixed point, her closed eyes locked onto an imaginary person in the room. Then, when she had fully realized the first form, she immediately began moving into the second, pushing her body, as if weightless, around the room as she changed positions.
Save for the soft sounds of her feet touching the ground and her loose clothes rubbing against themselves, the room was silent as Kim kept her pace through the forms, flowing quickly from one stance to the next. As her body moved through instinct, Kim opened her mind to the room, feeling every brush of air and hearing every sound, feeling each touch, and smelling each scent as she began to sweat. As time passed, her speed increased, but never into a frenzy. Like a ballet, the key to her movements was grace first, then form, and finally speed.
Minutes stretched into an hour, and Kim began to feel her heart pounding in her ears, making it hard to ignore and concentrate on her environment. She was moving at an incredible pace now, her movements now keeping her more and more off the ground with various jumps and launches from the walls. Decades ago she remembered watching Bonnie Rockwaller dance ballet at school and being impressed at her grace, given her crass personality. Now, Kim had a different understanding. Bonnie had managed to perfect the mechanics of her body, had learned the forms and transitions, but it was just the start. True grace included the mind and spirit as well as the body. If Kim could only have seen herself, twenty years later, she would have understood better.
And maybe even averted some of the damage she'd later done to herself.
The air changed suddenly in the room and Kim recognized the presence of another at the door. The waft of perfume ruled out Ron and Julie so Kim assumed that she'd run long on her forms and it was already past 8pm. Switching her next form for a closer, she slowed herself to a gradual stop and opened her eyes.
"Zita," she said, breathing hard. "I'm sorry, I lost track of time."
"It's okay," said Zita Flores. The tanned, dark haired woman stood leaning against the door frame with a hand casually on her hip. She was wearing a stylish red and brown top and a dark skirt. Kim couldn't remember a time when Zita didn't dress to kill and today was not an exception. "I've always been amazed at that. I forget that some of the things I see in video games are reality for you."
Kim laughed, embarrassed. "I'm not that great."
"You should see yourself from my perspective," said Zita. "Considering what you went through, I don't think there is a person alive that wouldn't be picking their jaw off the floor seeing what I just saw."
Kim just smiled. "Thanks."
Zita turned to head back into the house as Kim approached. "Although," she said over her shoulder. "You'd probably want to wear your Gi a little tighter at those speeds. Unless you intended to flash me."
Kim froze, and looked down. Her top was indeed loose, but wasn't showing anything. She gripped the edges and pulled them tightly around herself just in case. "I -- I did not!" Kim stammered when she looked up.
Zita laughed and disappeared through the doorway.
Once cleaned up and dressed properly again, Kim returned to the kitchen. Julie was sitting at the table eating some steamed vegetables and cut up chicken while Ron and Zita were next to her laughing as they talked over a couple glasses of wine.
"Looks like someone started without us," said Kim walking over to Ron and Julie, kissing the latter on the head while she ate.
"She was hungry," explained Ron. "And she probably wouldn't have appreciated what I cooked anyway." He looked at Julie. "I'll get you to eat my cooking yet, Jules."
"Dad!"
"I mean, Julie."
Zita and Kim laughed.
"Well, are you ladies ready for tonight's only slightly less than masterful cooking?" asked Ron.
"Well, that ranks higher than most gourmet restaurants for me," said Zita.
"Me too," agreed Kim.
Ron opened the oven and pulled out the plated dishes he'd already prepared. Three patters came out and Kim's mouth watered at the sight. Fried calamari in a tangy tomato sauce served over a bed of spiced pasta tossed with peppers, onions, garlic, and zucchini, was the first dish. This was followed by broiled salmon and, finally, a dish of steamed vegetables with lemon.
It was arguable whether Zita or Kim ate more, but both were stuffed with Ron's cooking by the end of the hour.
"Fantastic," said Zita. "Why don't you work for a restaurant, Ron? Hell, why don't--"
"Hey!" Kim said softly but forcefully and motioned toward Julie, who was now listening to TV and drawing something.
"Ah, sorry," said Zita holding up a hand. She cleared her throat. "I mean, why don't you open a restaurant? I'm sure Monique will front the investment."
"I dunno," admitted Ron. "I guess because then it'll become work, and you don't really want your hobbies to become work 'cause then they stop being fun."
"It's a shame," said Zita. "But then again, that means only we get to taste your marvelous cuisine, so it makes us special."
"There you go," said Ron.
"What about you, Kim?" asked Zita. "Any plans?"
"I'm working on my dissertation right now, actually," said Kim.
"Dissertation?" asked Zita. "A doctorate? Since when?"
"A while ago, actually. Before Julie was born I did the classes, I've been delinquent in my thesis however. I got an extension from the university, and I've been working on it for a few months now."
"Wow, finally joining the family tradition?" laughed Zita. "Although only one, you need at least one more not to look bad in front of your brothers."
"It's not really a competition, so I'm glad my brothers have done so well for themselves." Kim smiled and glanced over at Julie. "Anyway, I hope to have that wrapped up in another couple months and then probably defend in December."
"After that, then?"
Kim opened her mouth to respond then looked lost for a second. A moment later she shrugged. "We'll see."
"Ah," said Zita, and turned the conversation back to Ron.
They talked for several hours more before Zita had to leave, by which point Julie had long since fallen asleep and left Kim to cradle her gently. As she was leaving, Zita put her hand on Kim's shoulder.
"You should come out to the city sometime," Zita said. "We'll have lunch and I'll show you some great shopping."
"Okay, I'll definitely consider it," Kim said, nodding.
Zita leaned in closer. "Seriously, Kim," she said softly. "Get out a bit, you can even bring Julie along."
"I get it," laughed Kim. "I'll give you a call."
Zita said nothing for a second then backed up and smiled. "Thanks for the wonderful dinner, Ron."
"My pleasure," said Ron, offering Zita her coat. She turned and took a step back towards Ron so he could hang it off her shoulders. Confidently, she strode out the front door, stopping once for a wave, and then got in her car and drove away.
Afterwards, Kim put Julie to bed and then got into bed with Ron who was already lying down, staring at the ceiling, looking contemplative.
"That's never a good sign," Kim poked, as she slipped under the sheets beside her husband. "Lost in thought?"
"Yeah," nodded Ron, absently. He turned and looked at her. "I'm not trying to force you into anything, but, is there a reason you're not making any effort to come back to work?"
"Don't start," Kim looked away, looking irritated. "I got the hint from Zita."
"It's not just Zita," started Ron. "I'm... there's a lot of people who are ... understandably curious."
Kim continued staring away from Ron. "They're not... are they prepared to remove me?"
"No," Ron shook his head and moved to touch his wife's arm. "For everything you've done for GJ ... for the world, they'll take care of you forever. Just like they're doing for Betty."
"Betty's retired," pointed out Kim.
"That's right, which is kinda why people want to know about you." Ron stroked her arm. "I'm not sure what to tell them. Are you retired, or still on leave?"
Kim frowned and closed her eyes. "I'm not sure."
"What's keeping you from coming back?" asked Ron. "Are you afraid ... it'll happen again?"
"It's definitely a risk," said Kim. "You know the doctors said that it wasn't Jules that caused the arrhythmia. And that if I hadn't been at the hospital already I -- I probably would have died." Kim turned back to face Ron. "What would you have done if I died? What would have happened to Jules?"
"Kim..." started Ron. "You can't think--"
"I have to think!" snapped Kim. "If I go back to that, you could lose me. If not to my heart condition then you'll lose me to something else. I can't look away once I see it, Ron. If I step into that office again and there's trouble out there, I have to try and fix it. And then the stress will build again and I'll lose the balance I've worked so hard to find."
Kim was shaking and Ron wrapped his arms around her. "That's okay," he said. "Then don't go back, just formally retire, let Jennifer take over. She'll make sure GJ continues to provide for you and you can Betty can form a rotary club or something."
"I--I..." Kim struggled. "I can't, Ron."
"Why not?" asked Ron.
"Because Jules deserves better." Kim began to cry. "Because she deserves to grow up in a world better than the one we grew up in. I know there are things wrong in the world. We live in a practical fortress, guarded by GJ, monitored by GJ, in a community of ex-GJ agents. How can I retire knowing that all that is necessary just to keep people from taking shots at the Director of GJ? I can't leave! But I don't know how to get myself to go back. I... just don't know what to do."
Kim gripped Ron's nightshirt and pulled it towards her as Ron tightened his hold around her. "Shh," sounded Ron as Kim cried. "It's okay."
Kim tried to control herself, she already felt herself losing her balance, but the tears kept coming. She'd been holding it back for three years and it wasn't something that was going ton stop after ten seconds.
"It's okay," repeated Ron.
But it wasn't.