008 – The First Advice

Ro faked a painful sinus headache to keep from going out that evening. But Zee went ahead and left for town. He said it was to find information on Dr Smart and the school, yet Ro couldn't help wondering if it was more to alleviate rankling restlessness. It certainly wouldn't be to get away from her. When he'd gone, Ro turned the light back on, the room having grown a little on the dark side, and brought the computer to her lap. She squirmed a bit to adjust the mound of pillows against the headboard, waiting for the wireless internet to connect.

On a Friday night, the chances of getting a reply from Bucky were greatly decreased. In the past, it seemed Bucky did very little on the internet on Friday nights, leaving Ro to believe he did spend some of his time socialising away from the net.

She was surprised to see his name on her calling program. He contacted her straight away. Without Zee around, Ro felt comfortable enough talking about this with Bucky in video. If Zee had been around, she would've talked to him only through silent text.

'Ro?'

'Hey, Bucky.'

'Wow, don't we sound chipper on a Friday night.'

He smiled, a touch of rue in it. Ro liked him more the older he got. He would be fifteen in July, but he looked and behaved equal to her age. Amplified, perhaps, by always surrounding himself in atrocious lighting and having acquired some education on the human plight. Again, behind him, Ro could only see indistinct images, sources of light that might have been additional computers, and a thick black spot that was perhaps a shelf or a door. Bucky's face was thrown into relief only by the glow of the monitor in front of him. His chin had grown stronger, his eyes more defined, his nose shapelier. He sported a tougher image than two years ago, now having an earring and hair lengthy enough to be pulled into a ponytail. Hair, she realised, that was clearly longer than her own. She supposed he needed to toughen his image, being in the Tech Underground and doing acts Ro wouldn't spend time imagining.

'Yeah, well,' Ro shrugged, 'welcome to my world. Did you get my e-mail?'

'That spattering of words thrown together to form something that I wouldn't dare call a sentence? If that's the atrocity you mean, then yes, yes I did get it. What the hell is up with that, anyway? What's going on?'

'It's Zee,' she said with a sigh. 'He's getting—weird.'

'Weird? You're talking about the wicked wrench, yeah? He's Zee: he's always been weird! I'm sorry you're now just realising this. Well, goodnight.'

She had no notion he was serious about leaving the conversation so short. 'Very glib, Bucks, but I'm serious. He's getting weirder than normal.'

'How?'

How? Ro didn't know what to say to this. It might've been easier to talk to a complete stranger about Zee than try and talk to Bucky. He knew them too well. Ro could feel her embarrassment burning her cheeks, and wished she'd turned the light off to be as hidden as Bucky.

He sensed hesitation. 'Look, Ro, not to sound ungrateful for your company or anything, but I've been waiting online for you to show up for the last three hours. My uncle's getting antsy, wants to get started on this raid thing we've been planning. It's not that I want to rush you or anything—you know that I would love to spend more time with you and Zee—but I can't. I'm here now because your e-mail had me crapping kittens. What in the name of all that's holy is going on? Is it bad? Is it something I can help you with? Is Zee losing his mind?'

No, Zee had mind enough. Ro wondered if she were losing hers instead. 'Bucky, I don't really know how to say this, but—'

'You don't have to get fancy. I don't expect you to start speaking like Dickens. Just say it.'

She winced and looked away from the relay camera, collecting her thoughts for a moment. 'Zee's been getting a little, uh—a little—physical.' She knew it was an inappropriate word as soon as it was out of her mouth.

'Physical?' he repeated, his voice arching to disbelief and seriousness. 'Forget my uncle, this sounds serious! What do you mean—and don't worry about getting explicit. Unless you can't because he's around.'

Ro told him what she'd done to be alone. Bucky whistled in shock.

'Well,' he raised his eyebrows and then plunged them downward. 'At least he's—at least you're alone for a minute. Tell me what's been happening.'

Not knowing where to start, she tried talking it out, to find that moment when Zee started looking at her differently. Bucky, unabashed by all this, though nonplussed, listened attentively, nodding at all the right pauses. Ro finally concluded that Zee had changed the day they were in Columbus. After getting Ro to talk about it a little more, Bucky read between the lines.

'This is interesting. I've always known Zee's one complaint to be that he doesn't get to indulge his five senses the way you or I do.'

'I've never heard him complain about that.'

He almost rolled his eyes. 'Ro, you're a seventeen-year-old girl, since when would you and your ilk ever notice the pain of another person?'

'Bucky! That's not fair!'

'Truth ain't fair!' Though he yelled it almost at the top of his lungs, there was no anger in him. There was exasperation and honesty. It pierced Ro. He smoothed back his hair and smeared the same hand over his face. 'It's just something that happens when we're teenagers, Ro. We're selfish little creatures, bless us.'

'I don't feel like a selfish creature,' she said quietly.

'Yeah, but—' he waved a hand, 'how are you reacting to all of this? Personally. It's all about how uncomfortable it makes you. How do you think Zee feels? Maybe work on your empathy a little. I know you two have been through the gauntlet ever since Knossos went under.'

'We have. I think we've been emotionally closer than we ever were. Is this just some form of grief?'

Bucky chuckled, in that warm, inviting way of his. 'Grief? Absolutely not. Boredom, I'd say. Zee's always tried to get me to make some software for him to better feel what goes on in the world. Emotions—he can do that on his own. But the textile world, the wind and weight of the world—those things we take for granted—are the things that Zee wants to know most of all. It's only natural he should turn to you to find out those things. You're there. You're around. You're his best friend. He's your best friend. I'm just your periphery jester.'

'Bucky . . . no, you're not just that. Stop fishing for compliments and self-affirmation.'

'Counsellor, then. But do you understand what I'm telling you?'

'Not exactly.'

'I think you should go easy on Zee.'

'But he's—' She paused again, unable to continue. It seemed ludicrous to have this conversation, on such a subject, with someone like Bucky.

'He's what?'

'Invading my personal space.'

'Oh.'

Dead silence lingered for a short minute. Eventually, Bucky found a question. He asked it tentatively, almost as though he didn't want an answer.

'So he's—he's getting physical—with—with you?'

It seemed to take twenty seconds for him to get the words out. Once freed of them, he waited for a response. Ro watched him awkwardly.

'I think so,' she replied. 'You don't see the way he looks at me, Bucky.'

'This—this is not what I was expecting.'

'You and me both!' She rubbed a palm into her forehead, wondering if lying about having a headache would bring on a real one. 'What am I supposed to do?'

'I don't know.'

Ro sensed him pulling away. 'Bucky, I didn't mean to—'

'It's not that,' he stated, glancing to his left, and Ro assumed the room he was in went on in that direction. Then he spoke articulate and rapid Spanish to someone Ro assumed was his uncle, a man off screen. Bucky returned, disappointed, frowning. 'I have to go. One of my cousins has come, and my uncle's getting too restless to cajole. So we'll have to talk about this some more another time. Let me think about it, okay? It's a lot to soak in.'

'Yeah, no kidding. Try living it.'

'Did you try talking to your brother about this?'

'Oh, there's a wholesome American conversation. Get real. Casey would be as clueless as I am.'

'Good point,' Bucky said, reflecting on the two times he'd met Casey Rowen MacCurdy, Ro's much-older sibling, a bit sterile and prudish around the edges.

'Well, thanks for listening, Bucks.'

'No worries. Are you guys still in Ohio?'

'Yeah. Will be for a couple days yet. Zee wants to check some things out.'

'Great. I'll give you a call as soon as I can.'

Ro closed up the computer, laid it on the table next to her, and listened to the hotel room's incessant stillness. A small part of the weight encumbering her over the last couple of days had lifted. It was nice to tell someone, even if it was Bucky, and even if he did think she was out of her mind. For once, she wished he was there, with them again, so he could see it with his own eyes. Ro thought back to what'd happened that day, the scene in the rain stabbing at her insides like a thousand searing knives. She wanted to be furious at Zee. She wanted to hate him for it. However, no matter the heights of anger, hating Zee was out of the question. Perhaps persuaded by Bucky's insights, Ro grew to pity Zee, and a stirring of sympathy whipped up unfamiliar sensations at the bottom of her heart's well.

All she knew, while falling asleep that night, was that she'd never think of thunderstorms the same again.