“Daffyd! Don't be crude!”
“I'm just telling, you, Rhee. I've been like this my whole life. No matter what you think, no matter who I went with, who I used for sex, I have always, always wanted women.” His eyes pleaded for acceptance, if not understanding.
“But it's not right, Daffyd. Why don't you just change?”
He had put his head in his hands. He despaired of ever getting her mind wrapped around the idea that it wasn't a choice he had made, it was the way he was inside. “Look, Rhee,” he had said finally. “All these years, you never knew. Just go back there in your mind, okay? You can see my picture in the paper with this man or that, and tell yourself that I'm normal. All right? Just put tonight out of your head as a bad dream. You caught me experimenting with forbidden lust or something, and I got over it.”
To his utter amazement, she had done just that. The power of the human mind to deny the obvious was astounding. They had drifted a bit, but were still able to get together and have fun as a family without undue strain between them—until Morgyn hit puberty and developed breasts.
“No, Daffyd, I don't think she should come down for the week,” Rhiannon had said to him on the phone.
“Why not? She always spends a week with me on the lake,” he was mystified. His holiday month had just begun, and he had looked forward to his annual seven days with Morgyn.
“I just think it's a bad idea this year, that's all,” his sister had been evasive about her reasons. He started to suspect what underlay her change of mind.
“Can I talk to her, then?” he asked.
“She's not here right now,” Rhiannon said smoothly. He could hear Morgyn's outraged tones in the background, “Mother. I'm here, Uncle Daffyd!”
“Put her on, Rhee, unless you want me to drive down,” his voice had been calm, but she heard the anger underneath. An angry Daffyd was the last thing she wanted on her doorstep. He didn't blow his top often, but it was spectacular when he did.
“Uncle Daffyd?” Morgyn's voice was trembly and full of tears.
“What's wrong, Honey?” he asked. “Why won't your mother let you come up this year?”
“I can't tell you. She's breathing down my neck.” He could imagine the angry look the twelve-year-old was giving his sister. He smiled. Morgyn was more like him than Rhiannon, which aggravated her mother endlessly. She turned from the phone, “GO AWAY, Mother.” A pause. “Okay, she's gone. She says it's because I'm not a little girl anymore, and you don't need a woman at the houseboat.”
He rubbed his forehead. “Run that past me again, Morgyn. I missed something somewhere.” He had a sinking feeling he knew what was going through his sister's mind and he wanted to pound her head on the wall until she understood he wasn't a predator, he wasn't a sex-crazed animal that would ravage anything female, and Morgyn wasn't in the remotest danger from him. In fact, she had been more at risk to one of Rhiannon's ‘normal’ female friends. Daffyd was of the opinion that any grown adult who wanted to use a child for sex was anything but normal.
“I got my monthly ... you know,” said Morgyn. “And now Mother says I'm too old to be bothering you.” She sighed, sounding weepy. “I don't bother you, do I, Uncle Daffyd?”
“No honey, you're not a bother. You never have been, you never will be. I love you to pieces, and no matter how grown-up you get, you'll always be my little girl.” He gritted his teeth, but kept his voice calm. “Put your other mother on, Morgyn. Maybe we can straighten this out.”
Morgyn had gotten Janet, her mother's life partner, and passed her the phone. Janet Brandt had taken the news of his hetero status with equanimity, and they got along wonderfully well.
“Hi, Daff,” she greeted him. “What's up?”
“Have you talked with Rhiannon about Morgyn's holiday this year?” he asked.
“No. Rhee said Morgyn didn't want to go up, but she didn't say why.” Her voice took on a suspicious tone. “Is there something I should know about, Daff?”
“Yes. Morgyn wants to come here, I want her here, but apparently puberty is rearing its ugly head, and Morgyn is becoming a ‘woman'. Therefore I will be consumed with uncontrollable male urges and violate her in unspeakable ways.” He seethed into the phone.
“Oh, Daffyd, you're not serious!” she exclaimed. “Rhiannon can't possibly believe that!”
“Apparently, she does. I don't know why she does, but there it is. Would you talk to her, Jan? Morgyn hasn't missed her week up here since she was three years old. And I really don't want to explain things to her right now. Maybe when she's older.” He sighed.
“I'll see what I can do for you, Daff. Maybe I can talk some sense to her. I'll let you know, later, okay?” She hoped she would be able to knock some sense into her partner. Daffyd was one of the best people out there, as far as Janet was concerned.
“Thanks, Jan. You're the best. I'll be waiting for your call.” He hung up, feeling angry and frustrated with his sister, but hopeful that Janet would prevail.
It had taken Janet an hour of arguing to convince Rhiannon that Morgyn should have her holiday. The compromise was that Rhiannon would go along for the first time in nine years. Daffyd didn't care, as long as Morgyn got to visit. Rhiannon was careful never to leave her brother and daughter alone for more than ten seconds at a time. A long and bitter distance grew between them, hurting Morgyn more than anyone.
It had taken years for Rhiannon to realize that, no matter what public opinion said about heteros, Daffyd was not the predatory male out to seduce innocent females, or to force himself on unwilling women and girls. She eventually conceded that she had been wrong to come between him and his niece. She had even apologized to him for her blindness, but the hurt had been done. It had taken him a long time to forgive her for not trusting him. However, since Janet's death eight years ago, he and Rhiannon had slowly been healing the rift until they were as close now as they had been as children.
They had both been with Janet in the hospital, one on each side of her bed, holding her hands as she lay dying. The cancer they thought she had beaten had recurred. It had spread through her body like wildfire, leaving the doctors no hope of stemming its growth. She had fought it as well as she could, but her strength had finally run out. Morgyn had visited and fled. She couldn't bear to be there at the end. Janet had asked for Daffyd as well as Rhiannon, and he had canceled a concert tour and flown home.
She had looked at him and smiled weakly. Her voice was a mere whisper. “If I had been het, Daff,” she took a slow breath. “I would have gone after you in a moment.” He had smiled, holding back tears he hadn't wanted her to see, and he kissed her hand.
“I love you, too, Jan,” he said. She turned to Rhiannon.
“Stop hurting him, Rhee. He loves you, and I love you and you're going to need each other, okay? I'll be watching.” She pressed Rhiannon's fingers with her oh-so-trembling ones. Rhiannon leaned down and kissed her.
“I love you, Jan. We'll take care of each other, and Morgyn. Won't we Daffyd?” She glanced at him. He could only nod and stroke Jan's pale hand. A few moments later she drifted into a sleep from which she never awoke. He had stayed nearby for Rhiannon and Morgyn. It was he who arranged the funeral, and provided a stable presence until Rhiannon could function. When he returned to his schedule, he made sure to call at least a couple of times a month, just to talk, and the healing began.
Yes, his family would miss him, and would always wonder what had happened. He would like to be able to put their minds at rest. This much he told Reznik, keeping the rest to himself.
“I see,” she said. “And if we're all stuck here for years, you'd be okay with that?”
“I would for myself. But I'd like to see Seren get home to her children, and if she could take Devany with her, so much the better.” He smiled.
“Maybe you should consider that for yourself,” she said.
“What do you mean? Taking Devany home with me?”
“Heck, no!” she exclaimed. “I mean going home
with Seren!”
He looked at her sharply, his eyes wary. “What are you suggesting?” he asked, his voice suddenly cold. Reznik noticed and hesitated.
“Listen, Daffyd, before I say anything more, I want you to know a couple of things. First, someone's sexual preference, orientation, whatever you call it, is none of my business. Okay? I don't care. Second, I can keep a secret like you wouldn't believe. Trust me on this.
“Now, I know you're not homosexual,” she held up a hand to forestall his protest. “I can just tell, okay? How or why doesn't matter. I also know that you're attracted to Seren, which is fine, she's a very attractive woman. So, why don't you just tell her?”
His jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Sure. What's the worst that could happen?”
He laughed, a short bitter sound. “Let me think,” he said with uncharacteristic sarcasm. “How about, she never speaks to me again, and avoids me like the plague.” An ineffable sadness filled his face. “I couldn't stand that. She's much too important to me to risk losing now.”
Reznik cursed herself for promising Seren not to tell Daffyd that he set all Seren's hormones in an uproar. She looked at him with great compassion. “She wouldn't do that, Daffyd. You're important to her, too, you know.”
“I know. But sometimes things are stronger than friendships and destroy them, no matter how much you care for each other. I've lost a few wonderful people in my life over this. No, I'll just keep it to myself, thank you. And you do the same. Promise me!”
His eyes held hers until she vowed to say nothing to Seren about his feelings. She wanted to ask him more about his world, why he thought Seren would object to his being hetero, but he had thrown up a huge wall around himself. She knew it wasn't coming down anytime soon, so she left him to his chore. As she passed him, she paused and put her hands on his shoulders.
“You really should let her know, Daffyd,” she said quietly and kissed the top of his head before she left.
He raised his head and turned it to look at her departing back. Her gesture, although completely surprising to him, had seemed natural and easy for her. He wondered what possessed her to do such a thing. He decided she had spent way too much time with alien species and had forgotten how ugly life on Earth could be for twists.
Dammit switched her tail across his arm and brought his mind back to the work at hand. “Yes, Dammit, I'm still here. Don't get excited.” He went back to his milking.
Reznik found Seren sitting in the garden, pulling up weeds. “Where's Devany?” she asked the older woman.
Seren squinted up at Reznik, the sun behind Gerri's shoulder. “She's in the house, playing on the piano, I think. She's still afraid to come outside for more than a minute or two at a time. Pull up a row and start weeding.” She waved a hand. “Or you can pick some veggies for tonight's supper.”
Reznik sat down a row over from Seren and began to tug up the weeds from between the crops. “Seren, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Gerri. What is it?” Seren glanced over at her companion.
“Well, yesterday when we were talking about Daffyd, you said you didn't want him to know how you feel; that you're not his type. Why do you think that?”
Seren shrugged. “I don't know. Just a feeling I have.” She moved down the row a few inches. “It's not the end of the world, you know, if he's not interested in me romantically speaking.” She smiled, looking over at Reznik. “He's lovely just to have as a friend, and sometimes, romance and friendship just don't mix. I don't want to risk alienating him and losing him altogether. He's very important to me.”
Reznik wanted to pound her forehead on the hard ground. She had just had this exact same conversation with the man in question. She wondered how two otherwise-intelligent people could be so dense. She tried a different tack.
“How do you feel about him, Seren? I mean, really, deep down.” She looked over the tops of the lettuces to see Seren's face.
“I'm not sure, Gerri. He's a remarkable man. He's kind, and warm, and there seems to be no end to him.” She laughed softly. “He's what my sister calls ‘an onion person'. You keep peeling away layers, and there are always more underneath. He's very complex.”
“And don't forget easy on the eyes!” said Reznik, her eyes sparkling.
Seren smiled at her. “Yes, and that. He's very attractive, and he doesn't seem to know it. Or, if he does know, he doesn't care. He doesn't have that arrogance that so many good-looking men do, you know what I mean?”
Reznik barked laughter. “Oh, yes I do! There are a few of those in the Recruits. My god, they drive me crazy!” They grinned at each other over the lettuce. “You're right about Daffyd, though. He's not like that at all. I still think you should tell him you think he's a babe, hunk, doll, whatever.” Seren shook her head. “No, listen, Seren. You don't have to tell him you lust after him or anything, just let him know you think he's, you know, hot.”
“I don't think so,” said Seren, smiling. Reznik invoked curses on her own head for the promises she had made to these very stubborn and blind people.
“Just remember, I was the one who told you to try,” said Reznik cryptically. “I think I'll go see what Devany's up to.” She stood up and dusted herself off. “See you later, Seren.”
“Yep,” said Seren, continuing her self-appointed task. Reznik jogged off in the direction of the house.
Devany was not at the piano, nor anywhere downstairs. Reznik trotted up to the second floor, where she found the little girl in the art room going through the paintings. She had spread them out so that at least part of each was visible. She was sitting in the middle of the room, staring at one after another. Reznik knocked at the door.
“Hey, Kiddo! Can I come in?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Devany. She wasn't used to grown-up people asking for her permission and it made her feel awkward and shy.
“Have you found any good paintings?” asked Reznik, as she settled herself on the floor with Devany. She looked at the array. “There sure are a lot! That one looks familiar to me. Are there any that are like places you know?” asked Reznik, not expecting the affirmative answer she got.
“Yes. Over there.” Devany pointed to a medium size picture. It was of an enormous building, or perhaps a complex, set in an ocean of greenery. Most of the green appeared to be crops of some kind, laid out in orderly rows. The compound was gigantic, covering hundreds of hectares of land.
The view was semi-aerial, perhaps from the vantage point of a tall hill overlooking the site, or from a low-flying plane. The many courtyards were clearly visible. Some had tall trees and low bushes growing in them, with fountains splashing and sparkling. Others had gravel paths. Some were the size of football fields, or bigger, with all manner of obstacle course equipment, or sports supplies in them. The outer walls had no windows on the ground floor, although many looked inward on the atria.
Reznik examined the painting closely. The detail was incredible. When she looked at the various courtyards, she could see that each had its own purpose. Tiny figures were scattered here and there, walking the pathways, running around the track, dragging a net through a pond to clean the surface. A shadowy figure stood at an upstairs window, half-concealed by the curtains, apparently looking out at the field beyond the walls. Devany's eyes were taking in every inch of the picture.
“What is this place, Devany?” asked Reznik quietly.
Devany touched her finger to the obstacle course. “That's where I was when I fell here,” she said. She continued to study the depiction of her home. “Look how big it is outside the Complex,” she said. “What is all that? It looks like the garden outside, here, but it goes on and on. What do you think it's for?”
“What do you think it's for, Devany?” Reznik turned the question back to her.
Devany frowned. The question smacked of a request to use her imagination. As she considered it, she decided it was more of an exercise in deductive reasoning. She thought about Seren's telling
her about picking vegetables from the garden to cook for supper. She thought about the number of children in her group, the number of groups and the size of the compound. She thought of all the Nannies and Teachers and Supervisors. She looked at the fields that stretched off into the distance. The realization dawned.
“It's to feed the people in the Complex!” She looked at Reznik. “Isn't it?”
“That would be my guess, Punkin. It sure looks like an awful lot of people live in that place, and it takes a lot of food to keep them full.”
“I didn't know what was outside. We little ones aren't allowed to know; we're not allowed upstairs. Ever.” She considered the painting some more. “Look! The windows upstairs look outside. Why can the downstairs people only look in?”
“Before I answer that, Devany, I have to ask you a question.”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever play ‘let's pretend’ or ‘what if ... ‘?”
Devany looked hard at Reznik, striving to understand the meaning of the words. She thought she was being asked if she ever imagined things that weren't real. She didn't know if it would be better to lie or to admit the truth. Both choices had good and bad points. However, if she lied, and Reznik or the others found out, she would be in serious trouble. Alternately, admitting she used her imagination would also net her serious trouble.
Reznik waited patiently, easily reading each thought as it paraded across the child's face. It wasn't her job to judge this little girl, but she could see the truth shining like a beacon. She would decide how to handle the situation based on what Devany told her. She would not condemn her for honesty, if that's what the child offered. If Devany lied, Reznik would have to find a way to lure the truth out of her. This could get tricky. She could use Rapsim's skills right about now.
“I am not certain I understand the question,” Devany hedged.
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