by K Ryn
"Jim, you volunteered that information," Blair laughed. "I didn't set this up as a test for you..."
The Sentinel raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a level stare.
"Come on, Jim," Blair protested. When Jim's expression didn't change, he sighed and gave in to the inevitable. "Okay... what's this little tidbit of information going to cost me?"
"Give me the rest of the cards," Jim ordered. "And the books."
Blair looked puzzled, but picked up the remaining nine cards and handed them to the older man. "Jim, those aren't mine..." he began anxiously.
"Relax, Chief. I'm not going to damage them. I'm going to use them."
The look of comical confusion on his Guide's face was priceless. The expression when Blair realized exactly what fee Jim was going to extract was even better.
Turnabout was, after all, fair-play.
Blair blanched and launched into ten minutes worth of pacing and protesting when Jim announced that it was time for the younger man to be on the receiving end for a change.
"Jim, you can't be serious. I don't take the tests, I give them. It's your senses, not mine that we're investigating here."
"Sit before you give yourself a heart attack, Chief." The Sentinel waited until his Guide managed to settle down long enough to perch on the arm of the couch before continuing. "This test isn't about senses. It's about personality -- you said so yourself."
Jim glanced down at the reference book to read part of the test description aloud.
"The Rorschach is a projective test designed to be ambiguous and vague in order to enhance the likelihood that a person's response is determined by internal ways of structuring and perceiving the world, rather than by the objective demands of the situation. Psychodynamic theorists maintain that it reveals unconscious conflicts and processes within individuals..."
"But Jim..."
"Now ambiguous and vague certainly fits your obfuscation skills and you've spent enough time in an unconscious state since you started working with me to have experience in that area, so I think we've definitely got a match there," the Sentinel decreed with a grin. "Ten cards. I show em to you, you tell me what you think they look like. It's easy, Chief."
"I've already seen the cards, Jim. That'll throw off the test," Blair protested weakly. "Besides, who's going to interpret the results?"
"I'm sure Erica wouldn't mind, or maybe Cassie would like to take a shot at it. She's dabbled in everything else..."
"Cassie? No way! That's like handing her a loaded gun, man." Blair nervously pushed back a stray lock of hair. Then he brightened and peered at the Sentinel with his most innocent and entreating expression. "Look, if we have to do this, how about using the Thematic Apperception Test instead? A guy at Harvard came up with it. It consists of 30 pictures about which the subject must tell a story. I can do that one easy."
Jim vetoed the suggestion immediately. "You do that one all the time, with or without pictures, Sandburg. No, you owe me; a test for a test. Now it's either stare at a few ink blots or I'll come up with something really nasty. Something that matches that taste test with the spoiled milk."
Blair bounced off the couch and stomped around the living room for a few more minutes, muttering under his breath. Jim held firm. Finally the anthropologist plunked himself down on the carpet again with a resigned sigh.
"Relax, Sandburg. You're not going to lose any blood or major organs, here."
"Might be less painful..."
The test had turned out to be far more enlightening than Jim had ever imagined -- more fun, too.
The anthropologist had finally stopped protesting and the resulting answers that he'd given had had both men nearly doubled up with laughter. At one point, Jim had demanded that Blair retake the test because his approach had been decidedly less serious than the situation required. The grad student had cheerfully responded by admitting that his attitude sucked and promptly retrieved two more beers so that he could work on it. His next round of answers had taken at least an hour to complete because of the elaborate explanation he'd given with each.
Jim had delivered the next round of drinks after phoning in an order for Chinese carryout. During that intermission, Blair had managed to regain control of the cards and in a flurry of stirring words and waving hands that would have done any politician proud, had somehow convinced the older man that he should have a go at the test. Following his Guide's lead, the Sentinel had found himself dropping his normally reserved demeanor -- blurting out the first ideas that popped into his head.
It had quickly become a contest of one-ups-manship, each trying to out do the other, each harassing the other over the absurdity of their answers.
They had both been laughing so hard that the delivery boy had finally resorted to pounding on the loft door in order to make himself heard. With dinner served, the test cards had been abandoned on the floor of the living room. The warmth and sense of camaraderie that had enveloped them had followed the partners to the kitchen table. The balance of the evening had passed quietly -- Blair turning to the task of compiling the original test data for his friend, and Jim stretched out on one of the couches in charge of the TV remote.
It wasn't until much later, after his Guide had yawned his way to his room with a mumbled 'good night', that the Sentinel took a good look at the lists of answers that they'd generated. Like the good scientist that he was, Blair had written them all down; Jim's in a numbered column on one side of the page, his on the other.
Breaking his own house rule, the Sentinel propped his feet on the coffee table, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he read through the scribbled entries. Even if Blair hadn't labeled the columns, Jim would have immediately known whose answers were whose.
The anthropologist's responses to the test images were a true reflection of his inventive and clever mind. They ranged from albatross to a map of Zimbabwe and included a ruined Incan temple, a set of Kewpie dolls, a rainbow reflected back onto itself, an Egyptian scarab and its matching fossil. Mixed in among it all were an amazing assortment of bird images -- always in motion, never at rest.
Jim's own answers included birds as well -- birds of prey mostly. The panther had even made an appearance. However, the rest of his responses seemed mundane in comparison to Blair's -- a pair of hiking boots, twin mountain peaks, a stained glass window, breaking waves, and a cityscape that had seemed very much like Cascade's.
Overall, the answers they'd both given had revealed nothing earth shattering about either of them. With a slight sense of disappointment, Jim started to close the notebook, intending to lock things up and head to bed. That's when he discovered that there were several more pages of numbered entries.
At some point during the evening, Blair had taken the test again. On his own.
Puzzled, Jim glanced toward Blair's bedroom, and then back at the coffee table, where the stack of white cards gleamed dully in the dim light. He vaguely recalled the younger man paging through them while he'd been preoccupied with the end of the Jags game.
Curious as to what his Guide had written, the Sentinel scanned the pages, bewilderment immediately turning to wonder.
There was one set of ten responses, all written in his partner's distinctive script. Unlike the previous lists of entries which had been scrawled and scribbled haphazardly, the characters that flowed across these lined sheets were painstakingly crafted -- as if each individual word had been rendered with the utmost care and conviction.
There was a story for each image -- not just a single word or phrase -- insightful descriptions of emotions and sentiments painted with all the richness of a fine work of art.
Some of the images that Blair had envisioned were dark, reflecting the insecurities and doubts within the younger man: a high jagged cliff fronting a bottomless abyss; two massive storm fronts colliding and destroying everything in their wild tempest.
Yet there were also descriptions of stunning beauty -- sunrise meeting sunset in an intense flare of brilliant c
olor; reflections upon reflections in a single teardrop; the tranquility of a peaceful mountain lake at early evening -- revealing the poet within.
Others were filled with mystery and wonder. There was an elaborate description of an ancient warrior's ceremonial mask, each imagined symbol and brush stroke admired and noted with reverence. In another, the lush, moist foliage of the Peruvian jungle beckoned to the Sentinel enticingly, whispering of ancient truths and wisdom.
With each word, each thought, Jim felt like he was peeling back a layer of the obscurity that Blair wrapped himself in, revealing the hidden soul of the intricate, unique human being that he was privileged to call friend, partner, and Guide. The heart of the matter -- and an unshakable truth -- was found in the final entry...
Card #10 --"Two falcons, wing-tip to wing-tip, soaring on the winds of time... one is a bit smaller than the other, and younger... Most often they fly in tandem -- the younger bird slightly behind the older, more experienced one, following his lead in the hunt... but sometimes the younger falcon takes the lead, guiding them to places where the older bird might never have gone alone...
"Watching his companion glide ahead of him worries the older falcon, for dangers lurk within their world of earth and sky and wind, waiting to strike the unwary... It is his instinct to protect, to shelter the younger bird, yet he also knows that he must let the fledgling try his wings and fly free, for there are times when they must both soar alone, each seeking their own paths and desires for a time before they reunite...
"And the younger bird is no less protective, his own battle cry a fierce piercing shriek of rage if he senses danger to his companion... If one is injured, the other falcon stands watch over him, holding back the darkness of sorrow and pain until the day breaks clean and clear... and the winds blow gently again...
"Then they fly as I see them now; joyfully, swooping through the mists, plummeting toward the earth and then beating upward on wings that know no weariness toward the pale blue ocean above... They are bound together by the laws of the sky, the currents of air, and by their need... for in the end, they were meant to be thus... separate winged spirits... paired souls."
When the Sentinel finally climbed the stairs to his own bedroom, he carried with him the comforting weight of the knowledge that he had gained.
With the shimmer of stars overhead and the steady throb of his Guide's heartbeat below, the Sentinel grinned a Cheshire Cat-like smile into the darkness. He stretched and let the tension seep out of his body and mind, luxuriating in the feeling of balance and rightness that permeated the loft.
They were very different; he and his Guide.
But when you looked underneath those differences -- really looked -- the distinctions faded.
Both were strong men who were passionate about what they believed in -- loyal to a fault once trust had been given. Raised in totally different environments, they shared the need for stability, roots and family. Jim knew he was just as much of a 'soft touch' as his partner -- the number of hot-dogs he'd fed to stray, hungry looking dogs in the park attested to that. And while it appeared that Blair wore his emotions openly, he was just as adept at hiding his true feelings as Jim was.
They shared a common bond that was made even more intricate by their connection as Sentinel and Guide. Both were driven by an instinctive need to serve and protect -- a desire to see light where there was darkness.
Those things that made them different, perceived or otherwise, should have thrust them to opposite sides of the globe, and into separate lives. Instead, they had somehow found a way to learn from one another and to form an unbeatable partnership.
Both had grown and changed.
Both were stronger and richer because of it.
Two separate individuals with distinctly different personalities?
Yes and no.
They were separate entities; each one dramatically different, each with their own strengths and talents.
But united, they merged into one paired soul, eclipsing the differences.
END
Author's Final Notes: So there you are... point made... smarm delivered! ~g~
Comments? Please e-mail me at [email protected]. Thanks!