Cassidy St. Claire and The Fountain of Youth Parts I, II, & III

by A. H. Rousseau

  “Stop!” Gideon commanded. “Stop!... I will shoot both of you. Don't think I won't.”

  They all stared at each other, anger on everyone's face. Cassidy finally turned and stormed out of the car. Gideon turned to Jebediah, who sat on the floor, rubbing his jaw.

  ---

  Gideon walked into the observation car. It was smaller and less furnished than their previous one, but still had some comfortable chairs. The dim light of the sun provided only a modicum of illumination to the room. Cassidy was slouched in her chair, facing away from Gideon. He sighed and swallowed, then walked over to her. He stood by her, looking out the window with her and the landscape rushing by. He then turned his head and looked down at Cassidy who was already out cold. He leaned down a bit to confirm that she was indeed asleep. He glanced around the room and noticed a blanket draped over another chair, a remnant of a previous passenger. He quietly walked over, picked it up, and delicately placed it over Cassidy, who didn't respond in the slightest.

  Gideon then walked back into Cassidy's car.

  “She's already asleep,” he said to Jebediah, sitting on the couch.

  Jebediah responded with a quiet snore.

  Gideon yawned and rubbed the back of his neck. “And so are you... what the hell... Well, to all to each, a fair goodnight, pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.” He then took off his coat and crawled into his sleeping compartment.

  ---

  George was packing up the remnants of his work at his table, putting tools in cases, parts in boxes, and finally walking over to a metal support beam to flick a large switch that turned off the large work lights above his table. He walked out from under the work table area and onto the main promenade. A few lights were still on, giving a dim, shadowy, almost menacing character to the large machines that stood immobile on the floor. He breathed in deeply as he just looked at everything, his eyes glancing around with a look of concern on his face. He dropped his small work bag on the floor and then sat down, crossing his legs, to just look at everything. He looked, and looked. A few men walked by, heading back to their quarters for the night. George said goodnight to the trio and they continued on to the far end of the promenade to where the elevators were. Finally, after a good time of introspection, George rose to his feet and walked on to the elevators.

  ---

  George arrived at his room and found the guard waiting for him. George nodded as he walked up, expecting the guard to unlock the door for him.

  “Here,” the guard said, handing George a key.

  “A key?” George asked.

  “Yep. You've been cleared for access to your room. You can now go in and out of your room as you please. If you violate your cordons, you will be restricted to your room again. Understand?”

  George, surprised, nodded. The guard walked off as George watched him. With the guard out of sight, George turned and looked at his door then then key, finally using it to enter his room. He put his bag on the floor next to the door, turned, and then locked the door from the inside. He jostled the handle. He hadn't walked more than two steps into the room when a knock came at the door. He turned back around, unlocked the door, and opened it.

  Standing in the hallway, holding a large tray of food, was Claudette. “Hi. I brought dinner,” she said.

  “Oh, thank you, but I already ate,” replied George.

  “So did I,” said Claudette.

  George looked confused. “Oh... well, come in then.” Claudette walked over and placed the tray on the table. “I noticed that you left the work floor quite early. Did you go down to the other lab?”

  “No. I had some other things to attend to,” she replied as she turned around to face him.

  George stood their awkwardly for a moment as Claudette gazed at him. “Well, please, have a seat. It's always nice to have company,” he said. “Even after three weeks, this place doesn't feel very welcoming.”

  Claudette walked calmly and confidently over to George, wrapped her arms around his neck, and wrapped her lips around his. George stood there, stiffly, not responding, his arms at his side. Claudette placed her hand on George's left cheek as she kissed, pushing down to open George's mouth, allowing her to push her tongue inside. George still didn't respond as Claudette pushed forward, walking George backwards onto one of the arm chairs, pushing him down onto it. She stood in front of him, her voluptuous, womanly figure towering over him. She reached around back and unbuttoned her skirt, allowing her to pull it down and step out of it. George's eyes went up and down her curvaceous legs, wrapped tightly in black leggings leading to a tight black slip.

  “Claudette, I... I nev... Really, I don't—”

  “Just shut up,” Claudette interrupted with a smile as she gracefully lowered herself onto George's lap. She brought her face down near his and delicately licked at his lips with the absolute tip of her tongue. She then brought her own lips down upon his again.

  This time, he responded.

  2

  Gideon walked out into the observation car, dressed, pressed, and fresh. He looked inquisitively at the chair that held Cassidy.

  “Morning,” she said.

  “Good morning,” Gideon said with a slight smile. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he walked over and sat in the chair across from her.

  “Well enough,” she replied. “Jebediah awake?”

  Gideon nodded and leaned forward in his chair. “Yes. He's bathing right now.”

  “How's his jaw?”

  “Bruised, but he didn't lose any teeth, so that's good.”

  “Yeah... good. I held back with my punch, so...”

  “You held back?? Jesus. You sent him flying.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn't want to break my hand.”

  “You would break your hand?”

  “Haven't you ever punched someone? If you've got a bare hand, you can do a number on it by hauling off onto someone's face. It's better to use your palm,” she said, slapping her right palm with the fingers of her left hand. It also eliminates a joint. All of the force goes straight into your forearm.”

  “Well, I'm sure that Jebediah appreciates you not doing that.”

  “... yeah.”

  “I hope you don't punch me for this, but—”

  “I would never punch you,” Cassidy interrupted.

  “How do you know.”

  “When I meet someone, I know within thirty seconds whether I would ever punch them or not. The fact that I've socked Jebediah twice now is no surprise to me.”

  “Isn't that sort of a self-fulfilling prophecy?”

  Cassidy thought about it for a moment. “Well, what were you saying?”

  “Oh, yes. Well, again, please don't take this the wrong way. I'm not attacking you or judging you or anything, I'm just curious. Why do you so adamantly project yourself onto others? Why be so violent? While I don't agree with Jebediah on everything, and I think that he was out of line last night, I think has has a point about deferring respect upon others.”

  Cassidy spoke in a slow, quiet, cynical tone. “The world is not worthy of your respect, because it will not respect you. You know that better than most. The world is scum. Humanity is a pack of vile animals, worthy of little more than euthanasia. I do what I do because the animals that comprise most of humanity are like vultures. They pick at any weakness. They latch onto other people and drain their life's blood. A lot of it has to do with the way you carry yourself. If you carry yourself with even a modicum of fear, they will leap upon. Consume you. But if you carry yourself with a grave confidence, the vast majority of those who would bother you go away. When you walk into a room, you need to make sure that everyone there is afraid of you. Because if they think that you will not only kill them, but kill them with joy, then they will leave you alone. That fear of death is the only thing keeping the hyenas at bay.”

  Gideon thought on that for a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor, his lips pursed slightly. “I... I cannot find fault with that. But still, if you walked everywhere
with a look of murder on your face, than this would all make sense. But you don't. Instead, you seem friendly and fun and just revel in being loud and rude. I have to admit, you seem more like some gregarious character out of Shakespeare than any person I've ever met. People aren't afraid of you.”

  “No, good people aren't afraid of me. In many ways it's a test of mine. If I make someone uncomfortable, then they may prove to be a less-than-upstanding character in the future.”

  “Can you tell the difference between mere intimidation and fear?”

  Cassidy didn't respond.

  “I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry,” said Gideon.

  “No. It's alright. It's... a fair point. But as I said to Jebediah, I don't care. Well, no, that's not correct. I do care, but in a different way. I want people to be... I want people to be free to approach me but likewise be concerned with my judgment. I want people to be impressed by me. And for a lot of people, simply being impressed by a woman will cause fear. So I care in the sense that society has primed people to fear me, and since I am not unpredictable — I'm not going to just haul off and punch someone — they shouldn't fear me. I care and hope that interactions with me may change minds.”

  Gideon nodded. “Well, before we went off on that tangent, as I said, I hope you don't punch me for this, but I think you owe Mr. Ames an apology.”

  Cassidy furrowed her brow. “Why?”

  “While Jebediah had no right to lay into you, your responses did not seem in kind. They were cruel. It was as though Jebediah flicked you with his finger and in response you punched him... figuratively... before, you, well, before you did it literally. You are rough around the edges, certainly, and you claim to not be unpredictable, but that... last night... that was unpredictable. And frightening, too. I was quite frightened... by you. I had never seen Mr. Ames act in such a way, but you... you were exceptionally cruel in your attacks.”

  Cassidy didn't respond. She just held her head low, nodding slightly as she thought.

  “Again, I don't claim to know what your life has been like. I don't know your pain. But you don't know another man's pain either. And Mr. Ames is undoubtedly a man with pain.”

  Cassidy still didn't respond.

  Gideon nodded. “Well, I've said my piece.” He rose from his chair, the leather squeaking as he got up. “I'll be back in the car.”

  “I think about...” Cassidy said before Gideon was able to step away. He looked at her. “I think about these things... you know. I'm not unaware.” Cassidy was blinking rapidly and desperately searching for words. “I don't... I... I do think about Margie, and really everyone back at my home. I think about what they would think of me, seeing me like that.”

  Gideon sat back down.

  “I... I have built up certain mechanisms in my mind. I think mechanism is a good word, since they sometimes actuate without me thinking. Not quite reflex, but not fully conscious, either. I created them years ago to... prove something... I think. It's why I throw myself out there into absurd and dangerous situations. I need to prove myself — over and over — just to be taken as seriously as you. That's my defense. I really don't know what I'm trying to prove. I'm proving something. And Jebediah is right. In some ways, I do it because everyone is so shocked by it. It may be counterproductive, but I think it's better than people not thinking about it at all. It's better than simply letting people toddle on in their day-to-day fog of confusion that they call a life.”

  “I didn't say you didn't need to prove anything. I know you do. But you didn't prove anything last night. You just ripped into Mr. Ames' throat.”

  Cassidy sat there, in sorrow, her skin practically hanging off her face. “Yeah.”

  “What caused you to do that?” asked Gideon.

  “I was angry, but, and I know this isn't an excuse for what I did, but when he called me a whore... it pushed me over the edge. I went white. He meant it as an insult. He meant it... I just lost my mind. I had been on edge with him since San Francisco, and I think I was just waiting for an excuse to have a go.”

  “Well you had a go, alright,” Gideon said with a chuckle.

  “And, again, I know that it's not an excuse, but what created that mechanism in me was... good. It was a good mechanism. I still think it is. I've never had that happen before, but I still think it is. Even though I may protest, I must recognize that I am a woman. And being a woman is all that is necessary to attract attention. Men devolve into slavering beasts. They are like chattle. You need to hit them to get them to behave. I like to be open. I like to be friendly. I like people to know that they have a friend in me. But as a woman, I have to make sure that they also fear me. So yeah... I, I... I guess that you're right. I want people to fear me.”

  “Well, in general, you do a pretty poor job. You're one of the most affable people I've ever met.”

  Cassidy smiled. “Yeah. The mechanism I think runs counter to who I am. It's... horrible. I don't want the mechanism to be there. I want to just be me, whatever that is. But openness leads to problems. When I was younger, I had so many people attack me for giving off the wrong impression, whatever the hell that means. But if I am both open and dangerous, no one dares to... to.... push me. No one thinks I am weak. I get to be how I want while not being bothered. It is something that you might well take for granted. You will still attract attention, though, don't get the impression that I don't think you wouldn't. It might not be of the nature that I must face, but you will still get killed or robbed. You are lucky that you've seen that dead man. You're lucky that you have killed, because you will have to do so again. Men are animals, and they need to be treated as such.”

  Gideon didn't respond for a moment. “I am not like that.”

  Cassidy didn't move. She only sat there, thinking. “No... you're not.”

  “Or Mr. Reilly, or Mr. Ames.”

  “No. None of you are. But to steal a philosophy phrase that you State Department folks seem to so enjoy, men in the state of nature appear to be monsters. I feel that the monster in you has simply been tamed by society.”

  Gideon looked away, blinking rapidly. “There are few people who have spent as much time trying to figure out their own nature as myself. I don't know what it's like to be you, to have your reasons for your anger. But you don't know what it's like to be me. And I am no monster. I spent years coming to terms with my own goodness, and learning to accept it. I am no monster.”

  Cassidy glanced in Gideon's direction, but not at him. Gideon nodded and rose from his chair again.

  “I hope that what I've said won't... hurt... our relationship.”

  “No, no. No, it couldn't,” replied Cassidy. Gideon paused, waiting. Cassidy said nothing more. He then walked out of the car.

  ---

  Cassidy walked into her car. She stood in the doorway, looking down the short hallway to Jebediah, who was sitting on the couch. She walked slowly in and stood by him. He did not look up from his book. She then sat down in the chair nearest him, nervous and awkward.

  “Jebediah...” she began.

  “There's nothing to say,” he interrupted.

  “Yes there is,” she replied.

  “No there isn't. I was utterly out of line. All that there is to say is an apology, which I duly proffer.”

  “I'm glad to see that you hold me in such low regard that you do not think that I was out of line,” said Cassidy. Jebediah did not respond. “Because I was almost grotesquely out of line. I said... I don't know you. I don't know your life. I shouldn't have ripped into as I did. I also apologize.”

  “Then it is done,” Jebediah said. “There is nothing left to say.”

  Cassidy nodded. She waited for Jebediah to say something else. He simply continued reading his book. She then retreated into her own book as the train drove on.

  ---

  Cassidy walked up to Gideon who was sitting in the empty dining car, eating a bowl of fruit. “Oh, hi,” Gideon said, looking up from a newspaper.

  Cassidy sat down across from
him. “I, uh... I know that I'm making a habit of this, but I wanted to apologize for this morning. I didn't mean what I said. I'm well aware that men are not monsters. I only hope that you can appreciate how the world sometimes makes me feel that way.”

  Gideon looked up at Cassidy. He reached out and took her hand. “If I was ever found out, it's not women who would try to kill me. I know how you feel.” Cassidy squeezed his hand and smiled. The waiter walked up to the table, short and Hispanic.

  “Will you be wanting anything miss?”

  “No, I'm set,” replied Cassidy.

  “And you sir, anything else?” he asked, turning to Gideon.

  “No. I'm fine with this.”

  “Very good. I will be going to the kitchen for some time, so you if you want anything, please ring the service bell.” The two nodded as the waiter walked out the end of the car.

  “That's good timing, because I wanted to talk about something with you,” said Gideon. Cassidy crossed her hands on the table as she listened.

  “I was almost raped.”

  “What?” Cassidy asked with undisguised shock.

  “Yes. When I was seventeen. I was hiding in a room with another boy at my school. He was one year younger than me but had more experience. His name was Zeke.” Gideon paused with a sad look on his face before putting on an awkward smile. “I'm sorry. I don't even know why I'm telling you this.”