Friday: Morning After Memories

I woke up with the bed sheets tangled in a knot around me. I fought with them for a minute before I realized that they weren't sheets but the folds of my sari. I lay back in bed and waited for the memories of last night to catch up with me. At least the hangover was minimal.

Sometimes I think that I am proof operant conditioning doesn't work. Normally a creature, when confronted with a behavior that inevitably results in discomfort will try and avoid that behavior. I, on the other hand, order another round.

Let's see. Went to the pub, talked to people, drank about two pints, stumbled back to the Opera House with Maria and Sam and … holy guacamole.

Sam left us at the backstage door of the Opera and went along to his home in the City. Maria and I stumbled through the backstage, tripping over ourselves and giggling like potheads on helium. Maria's room was on the other side of the Opera House from mine so we parted ways backstage.

I got halfway up the stairs before I had to sit down and wait for the room to stop spinning. The stairway was open to the air, so I could see most of the cavernous area behind the backdrops. A couple of skylights let the moonlight in, supplementing the bare light bulb of the ghost light onstage, turning the stage and its canvas-covered props into a weird landscape of twisted rock formations. As I sat there, I became aware of a person moving around on the lower level.

I sobered up a bit and tried to think straight. Why would there be somebody sneaking around backstage at this time of night? Assuming it wasn't someone else trying to sneak in after a night on the town. The figure appeared to be examining the pulley system which kept the stage lights suspended in the air. He turned slightly, and in the dim light of the moon I recognized him.

The sober part of me realized now would be an excellent time to continue up the stairs and find Alex. The drunk part of me grabbed a hold of the controls and blurted out, "Virgil?"

Virgil jumped and dropped something. There was a sharp, ominous crack, like glass hitting the floor but not breaking.

"Who's there?" He peered around in the dim light. The shadows were dark enough that it was hard to see me if I didn't move. "Miss Solei?"

"Yeah." I replied, after a momentary struggle where my sober mind tried to wrest control away from my drunk mind and failed utterly. Virgil followed the sound of my voice and spotted me on the stairs.

"What are you doing there?"

"What are you doing there?"

"I was just checking to see if everything was well. I wanted to be sure the moorings were secure. What are you doing here?"

"I'm drunk." I said simply. "Perfectly within my rights to be drunk on the stairs in the middle of the night. At least it ought to be."

"Solei? What the hell?"

I twisted around and fell off the step I was sitting on down to a lower one. Alex was standing at the top of the stairs.

"What's going on?" Alex demanded.

"I'm checking the moorings of the lights." Virgil said. "After what happened to the boss, I wanted to make sure there wasn't any sabotage, like what happened when Billy was attacked."

"It's one in the morning." Alex said. Virgil shrugged as if it were a perfectly normal hour to do maintenance in.

"And what are you doing here so late?" Virgil asked.

"I'm making sure Miss Solei gets home okay." He said instantly. I giggled. The phrase 'Miss Solei' out of Alex's mouth sounded hilarious.

"I'm finished here." Virgil said.

"Right then."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

Virgil strolled away toward the back door. Alex watched him until he was out of sight, then came down the stairs and sat next to me.

"Where the hell have you been? We were going to check for places the saboteur could be hiding."

"Aw, you missed me."

"I didn't know where you went. I was worried." Alex halted abruptly, as if he'd said more than he meant to.

"You were worried?"

"Yeah. All we got is each other now. We've got to stick together." Something about his tone burned off some of the haze of alcohol. I laid my head against his shoulder and we sat together in companionable silence.

"Don't worry mate. I'm not going anywhere." I said after awhile. It might have been a couple minutes or a couple hours. It was one of those kinds of moments.

"Good. Now come upstairs before someone else comes along and we have to explain this."

Alex half-carried me up the stairs and down the hall. This wasn't strictly necessary, since I was nowhere near that drunk, but I raised no protest. When we reached the room, I found that while I was at the pub, Alex had gotten sick of sleeping on the floor and had moved a cot from one of the empty rooms into our room. Unfortunately even pushed together, the two small cots took up nearly every inch of available space.

"Tired of sleeping on the floor?" I asked.

"Well, I didn't think that we'd both fit in that bed." He replied, sexual innuendo being the automatic response of nearly every college student on the planet. "It's supposed to be good for your back anyway."

"Lotsa stuff is supposed to be good for you. Doesn't mean I'd wanna do it."

"I've noticed. Fine example you're setting for your patients, smoking and drinking and staying out till all hours of the night."

"Fine talk from you; you're always there with me. 'Sides, I'm not a doctor yet."

"You just order everyone around like you are."

"S'right. But I'd do that anyway."

"Solei?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't ever change."

I still don't know how it happened. We were hanging around, talking, a night just like dozens of other nights we'd spent in the same room. Okay, maybe not exactly like. I could hear myself talking, but I wasn't really paying attention. Something sparked between us, too intangible to be nailed down with words.

Alex leaned forward slightly. I leaned forward slightly. Then, suddenly the short distance between us closed. There should have been a violin crescendo and fireworks exploding in the background, to match the fireworks exploding inside my mind.

Questions? Comments? Criticisms? Complaints? Review!

.•´¨•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨•.