Inconstant Moon - Default Font Edition

by Laurel L. Russwurm

  “How are you holding up under the TA stint? Prof driving you insane yet?”

  “No, she's pretty good, hasn't buried me in crap and she's actually pretty fair with the students.”

  “That's great to hear. They're not all like that.”

  “I thought you enjoyed TAing.”

  “Oh I do. But the first prof I worked for was a real asshole, let me tell you. Thank god he retired because if he hadn't I don't think I'd still be here. He was just too much, and the last straw for my buddy. 'Course, not everyone takes to it.”

  Ethan drains his original glass, then picks up the one Nick has bought him and raises his glass to clink. “Thanks.”

  “You're welcome. You sure looked like you needed another.”

  Ethan smiles ruefully. “Probably not. Good I don't have to drive, but the companionship is sure welcome.”

  “Ah, you've been here a while then. So what's her name?”

  “Liz.”

  Nick thinks, then grins, “Not that incredibly cheerful Amazon?”

  “That's the one.”

  Nick lets out a low wolf whistle. “You been out with her?”

  “Yeah, and I thought it was going great but she got mad at me for wanting to walk her to class. She's keeping me guessing, so I'm not sure if we're dating or if she dumped me.”

  Nick nods. “And you don't want to be dumped.”

  “Hell no. She says she doesn't know if she wants to be in a relationship. I'm afraid she's looking for excuses to dump me.”

  “That's tough.”

  “Yeah.”

  chapter 116 . . .

  Elsie sits with her back to the wall, legs extended along the length of the bench in back booth. Half a strawberry daiquiri and a basket of fries sit on the table, but all her attention is focused on the beat up medical textbook she's poring over.

  Every now and again Elsie makes a notation in the margins. She's pretty oblivious to what's going on around her, so she startles when Tamara plops on the bench opposite.

  “Hey, Elsie. How's it hanging.”

  Elsie narrows her eyes. “I'm studying for a test tomorrow. You look like you should be sleeping. Shouldn't you be home?”

  Tamara just stares back. “I just wanted to ask you . . . um, how do you attract guys? What's your secret?”

  Elsie laughs. “No commitment. If I want a guy I let him know. Look, you aren't going to get anywhere looking like that.”

  Tamara looks defiant. “Like what?”

  “Like a mess. Men are romantics, they all want a princess.” Elsie closes her book and sets it on the table beside the French fries. “Come on.”

  Elsie gets up and heads for the washroom door. Tamara grudgingly gets up and follows.

  Standing beside Elsie at the mirror Tamara appraises her red rimmed eyes and face streaked with make up. A mess.

  “Okay, I see your point,” concedes Tamara.

  “You're a pretty girl, just not right now.”

  “No Elsie, I'm an idiot. What can I say.” Tamara turns on her heel and leaves.

  Elsie watches Tamara disappear through the rear exit door. Elsie shakes her head and goes back to her booth, picks up the book and is again transported into the wonderful world of medicine. Idly she pops a French fry into her mouth.

  chapter 117 . . .

  Oscar sits at Kate's desktop computer on the table pushed against the living room wall when Kate ushers in Liz and Jake. Half a dozen people Liz doesn't recognize are gathered around as Oscar's fingers dance across the keys.

  Liz tells Kate, “Maggie said she wasn't coming tonight.”

  “Thanks for letting me know. I thought she might pass,” Kate nods. “Glad you came out. She is all right though?”

  Liz nods. “Yeah, just tired.”

  Kate holds out a hand, “I'm stacking coats in the bedroom.”

  Liz passes her jacket and turns at the sound of Adam's raised voice, “You can't do that, Oscar. It's illegal!”

  “Nick isn't home very much, but when he is, he needs his news hit, Oz.” Kate turns to Oscar, wagging a finger. “So don't be doing anything that's gonna endanger my Internet connection.”

  “I'm only downloading Sita Sings the Blues.”

  “All right, then. Except already I've got it, so stop using my bandwidth.”

  Adam is aghast. “But it's piracy if you download movies.”

  Oscar says, “No it isn't.”

  “He's right, Adam.” Kate nods. “It's Creative Commons.”

  “Not really. How could that work for a movie?”

  “You know,” Adam's friend Dave says, “I remember reading that George Lucas didn't get rich from Star Wars, he got rich from Star Wars merch.”

  “Yeah,” says Jake, “I heard that too.”

  Liz adds, “I put photos on Flickr under a CC license.”

  “But why?” asks Adam.

  “When I take pictures I want people to see the good ones. If I put them online then that happens. It's that simple.”

  “But how can you make a living if you give stuff away?”

  “I get paid when I get hired to do work.”

  “If your pictures are free on Flickr, why would anyone hire you?”

  “My Flickr pics are an online portfolio. They show prospective clients just how good a photographer I am. And that's what gives them reason to hire me.”

  “But why pay for what they can get for free.”

  “They only get free what I put out there. Stock photos often don't cut it. Newspapers and magazines cover events. Insurance companies need proof if the claimant is a fraud. Performers want original album art. You can't get custom photographs online for free.”

  “And what about music?”

  “I don't know about music.”

  Oscar asks, “Do you buy music you didn't like?”

  “Of course not, I only buy music I like.”

  “And how do you know what you like?”

  “Actually, I . . .” Adam stops, thinking. “Point taken. I never really thought it through.”

  Kate stuffs her fingers in her mouth and emits a loud piercing whistle. Everybody stops dead and looks over at her. Looking pointedly at Oscar, Kate says, “I am sick to death of copyright. You guys wanna argue it to death, do it at lunch on your own time. Who's up for watching Sita? Show of hands.” Kate looks and all hands have shot up.

  “Okay, good.” Kate passes bowls of snack food as Oscar hooks the cables from the large screen TV to her laptop.

  Dave tells Adam, “Not a bad idea, Sita's a lot of fun and it has been pretty tense around here lately.”

  “I could use a little relaxing.” agrees Liz, a little surprised to hear the guys have found the last few days tense.

  “At least they caught the guy.” says Kate.

  “Have they?” Liz asks. “They've caught somebody. But what's to say this is the right guy?”

  “Gee thanks Liz. Just when I was starting to feel safer.”

  “Sorry, Kate, I'm not trying to freak you out, I'm just saying it'd be good to keep being careful.”

  “Of course it is the guy.” insists Adam. “The police wouldn't have arrested him if it wasn't.”

  “They caught Boris yesterday,” says Jake. “Wasn't him.”

  “Maybe they'll settle for anybody just so life could return to normal?” suggests Kate.

  Liz says, “Kate's right. The cops have to be under even more pressure than the school is to get the rapist caught.”

  “But if they've got the wrong guy,” says Jake, “Then it still isn't safe.”

  “That would suck,” says Kate.

  Oscar flicks off the lights so the dusky cartoon goddess shows up more clearly against the wall. “Okay, who wants to watch the movie?” asks Oscar.

  Dave starts clapping like a wild man and in moments the rest follow suit. Everyone moves their chairs around so they can see the picture to its best advantage. Liz notes Jake's sour look.

  “Something wrong?” she whispers.

/>   “Krystal is supposed to be coming.” says Jake quietly. Liz tactfully looks away with smile as the movie begins. Oscar douses the remaining light, leaving only a hint of light trickling under the kitchen door so the wall projection is revealed in stunning colour.

  “Where's Ethan?” Jake whispers to Liz.

  Liz doesn't want to explain she didn't invite Ethan, so she touches her finger to her lips in the universal admonition to silence.

  chapter 118 . . .

  “Wow. that was an awesome movie, Oz.” Liz says as Oscar unlocks the door to Fyfield House.

  “You know, I read about Sita Sings the Bluesin Tech Dirt, says Jake, “But I had no idea it was funny.”

  Oscar sighs. “The animation is what gets me. So beautifully well done. Whenever I watch something like that I curse my parents for neglecting to bequeath me the slightest touch of artistic talent.”

  “Have you ever tried to draw or anything, Oz?”

  Oscar nods. “Years of persistence and I've barely mastered stick figures. And XKCD has that covered.”

  “We all have stuff we're not good at.”

  “True.” Oscar shrugs as he locks the door behind them. “That's it for me then. Night kiddies.”

  “Me too,” says Liz. I am pooched.” She knows if she sits up with Jake he'll want the lowdown on Ethan, so she hoofs it to the staircase tossing them a wave over her shoulder.

  “I'm just gonna zone out with the tube, then.” Jake says, clearly not happy to be ditched, watching Oz head down the hall to his room. “Night guys.”

  When Liz opens the door to their room she sees Amelia's not back yet, but nothing is marked on the calendar. Amelia's next scheduled shift isn't until tomorrow night.

  As Liz undresses she feels a little uneasy. Is the right guy in jail? Where is Amelia? Her roomie should be back, it's after eleven on a school night. Amelia shouldn't be running around out there alone, darn it.

  Climbing into bed, Liz sets her alarm, then grabs the beat up paperback off the night stand, admitting to herself that she's every bit as bad as Maggie. She tries to read but it's hard to concentrate. The heroes are negotiating a tricky cave system, and Le Cagot is ragging on Nikolai. It's a fun bit and she loves the larger than life character of the gruff Basque poet.

  What a romantic. She'd love to find a man like him.

  Or would she?

  Ethan. Half of her wishes Ethan was here right now and half of her wishes he wasn't such a good kisser. The last thing she needs is to think about Ethan.

  Setting the book down, she reaches for the fanny pack and pulls out her cell. About to phone, it occurs to her that maybe Amelia's out getting lucky or something. She has been spending a lot of time with Eric. Maybe she's getting over her crush on Jose. Better not to call. Instead Liz Tweets:

  @ameliawrites Hey girl what's your ETA?

  Liz smiles thinking how much her Mom would give her a hard time for using the word “girl.” The older generations just get so hung up on non essentials. Still, it's worrying that there is no response. Thank God Mom doesn't tweet. It would be too creepy having Mom lurking. Still no response. Maybe she could go back down and watch TV with Jake. Just too tired.

  Liz props the phone on the table, plugging it into the charger to keep it online, just in case. Picking up the the book again, Liz reads until she drops off to sleep.

  chapter 119 . . .

  Jake is sprawled on the sofa watching the TV on low, but the sound of the lock turning gets his attention. Glancing at the opening hall door he sees Amelia and Eric come in.

  “I didn't say he was a crappy actor,” Amelia says, “I just said his Hamlet wasn't as good as Gibson's.”

  “But Branagh is awesome.” insists Eric.

  “Yeah, he is, but my problem was the production. He didn't follow the text, Eric. At least Zeffirelli follows the text. Sure, he'll drop bits here and there for pacing, but they do that in the theatre, what ever they need to make it work.”

  “I thought it did work.”

  “Not for me.” Amelia shrugs. “What can I say, I'm a purist. If you wanna mess with Shakespeare do a remix and call it something else. You know, like West Side Story. Just don't pretend it's Romeo and Juliet.”

  “But it was Hamlet.”

  Jake says, “Wanna keep it down? People are sleeping.”

  Amelia flushes with embarrassment. “Sorry.” Her gaze lights on the TV screen. “Is that . . . oh, wow, Rear Window.”

  Eric says, “What?”

  Jake grins and points to the television. “The movie.”

  “Classic noir,” Amelia says, “I love Cornell Woolrich almost as much as I love Dash Hammet. That is such a great movie, I think it's Hitchcock's best, too. You know, if I wasn't so pooched I'd join you. Oh well, enjoy. G'night, guys,” as she heads upstairs.

  Eric drops into the bean bag chair. He glances up the stairs to make sure Amelia is really gone before admitting, “You know, I thought 'film noir'meant 'black and white'.”

  “A lot of the movies are black and white, but it's a genre.” Jake laughs. “Hard boiled detectives, femme fatales, gritty cynicism.” Seeing Eric has no idea, Jake smiles big. “Rear Window is a Hitchcock classic. You'll like it. This one has serious suspense.”

  chapter 120 . . .

  Amelia opens the door and smiles at the sight of Liz snoring with a book collapsed on her chest. She pries the book from Liz's hands and lays it on the night table next to the charging cellphone.

  Draping her jacket on the back of her chair, Amelia changes into her neon green nightgown, slides into her fuzzy green slippers, pulls on her purple robe and grabs the bathroom bag before switching Liz's bed lamp off. She leaves on a night light that will allow her to get back to bed without disturbing Liz.

  Pulling the room door closed, she turns down the dimly lit hallway toward the bathroom. Amelia has decided to settle for a pirate bath, saving a real shower until morning. And she just has to get the fur off her teeth or she'll never be able to sleep. As she rounds the corner she runs into a strange man. Amelia's blood curdling shriek would put many a Hitchcock heroine to shame, and is more than enough to trigger the man's shriek in response.

  The hall light comes on full, throwing the tableau into sharp relief. Amelia stares at the man she's never seen before as doors open and resident female students step into the hall or peer through cracked doorways. The sound of pounding feet from downstairs announces the arrival of reinforcements.

  Maggie glares at the man, who is wearing only a woman's pink chenille robe stretched rather tautly across his weight lifter form. She plants her hands on her hips and says, “Think we need to call the cops on you pal?”

  “Hey, lady, I'm visiting with Elsie. Just using the bathroom,” he says.

  “It's like this,” Maggie tells him, “This is private property and you are not authorized to be here.” Seeing Amelia is shaking, Maggie throws a protective arm around her shoulder just as Eric and Jake burst into the scene.

  “Are you okay?” Eric asks, and Amelia nods.

  Jake is overwhelmed at being surrounded by a universe of scantily clad young women, so he averts his eyes and drops into a crouch, busily gathering up all the things that Amelia's bag has spilled over the floor. Eric joins Maggie in glaring at the interloper; he has never seen the guy before, but he damned well recognizes that robe.

  Maggie says to the guy, “Aren't you leaving?”

  “Okay, okay, I just have to go get dressed, then I'm outta this nuthouse.” He pushes past and around the corner.

  Joining the confab Liz asks, “What on earth is going on?”

  Amelia squeezes Maggie's hand and says, “Thanks”, then tells Liz. “I was just going to brush my teeth and I ran into that guy. It . . . um . . . he startled me, that's all. But maybe I over reacted.”

  Maggie folds her arms.”This has to stop.” Amelia nods.

  Jake hands the bag back to Amelia, still feeling somewhat embarrassed, “Uh, everything is under control here, time to go Er
ic.” Jake flees down the hall. Eric looks to Amelia, “So everything is okay then?”

  “Yeah, fine. Under control anyway. Go.”

  Eric wants to give her a reassuring hug, but isn't sure that it's allowed, so he just says, “Okay,” and follows Jake.

  Amelia calls after him, “Thanks, Eric.”

  Eric waves and heads out. As he rounds the bend to catch up with Jake, Elsie's door swings open and the strange man steps out, still tucking in his shirt, clearly in a rush to be gone. Now wrapped in the chenille robe, Elsie leans against the door frame, narrowing her eyes as Eric passes, pointedly ignoring her.

  The guy follows Eric, calling, “Hey guy, wait up.”

  Eric doesn't slow down but the guy hurries to catch up. “No, really, bro. How the hell do I get out of here?”

  Eric sighs. “Follow me.” Eric starts down the central stairs into the common area. Having just turned off the television, Jake watches Eric lead the stranger to the exit. Opening the door, the guy asks, “What's the big deal?”

  “We're all on on edge here because one of our roommates was raped.”

  “Oh, Jesus, man, I had no idea. I'm really sorry.”

  Eric shakes his head as the guy heads out. “Not your fault. Elsie isn't exactly the soul of tact.”

  Back in the upstairs hall the roused students mill around, discussing the general discomfiture they have all been feeling. It's quickly agreed that Maggie can lead the delegation. So the company follows Maggie to Elsie's firmly closed door. It opens immediately on Maggie's knock, and Elsie surveys the crowd.

  “Ah. Maggie. Can I help you with something?”

  Amelia says, “We've decided that there aren't going to be any more nocturnal guests.”

  “That was you who screamed?” Elsie asks. “You scared the poor guy half to death.”

  Maggie interrupts, “No more, Elsie. That's part of the deal when you live in residence.”

  “Nobody said anything when it was Eric.” says Elsie.

  “No, but we all know who he is. He's a housemate.”

  Amelia adds, “I never ran into him up here.”

  “That's bullshit, Amelia. What's your problem anyway? You were screwing around with Eric in the common room the other night.”