by Merry Brown
She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears. Taking my hand she kissed it and held it to her chest. “Will, how could people take this – this love we share – and turn it to selfishness?”
What could I say? I didn’t understand, either, how two people could love as I feel for her and then change – throw it away.
“That won’t happen to us, Lizzy. I won’t let it.”
“And what are you going to do to protect what we have, protect it from your selfish tendencies?” she added reluctantly.
I realized what she was saying. Our love wouldn’t suffer at her hands because she wasn’t selfish, but I was. In this way it was like we were from two entirely other worlds. I tended towards the selfish and she, simply, plainly, she had not a selfish bone in her body.
“I don’t know, Lizzy, but I’ll try. Please be patient with me.”
“You are not doomed Will. You can choose the right thing; it’s just a lot harder for you. But the more you choose beauty over the lie, the more clear the good becomes, the more you are likely to see it and choose it. That’s the way the virtues work. The more you use them, the more you have them. Of course, the more virtues you have, the more virtuous deeds you do. Make sense?”
“Yeah. Sounds like forming a habit – but a good one.”
“Exactly. But, unfortunately, bad habits are easy to come by whereas these good habits take most of a lifetime to acquire.”
“I’m trying Lizzy, but I don’t want to drag you down.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
“How can I not? I don’t want you to have my condition, this ‘fallen nature’ as you describe. You’ve seen so much, know so much, why would you want to be with me?”
The last part slipped out. Why be with me?
She considered that for a long moment and said, “I think it’s because I’ve seen much of the world. Your innate goodness shines so brightly. A diamond surrounded by blackest bile. You are amazing, and I admire you for your courage and kindness and wisdom.”
“How do you deal with all the stuff you’ve seen, all the murders, rapes, all the terrible things?”
The look on her face made me sorry I’d asked.
“You don’t have to answer.” I hated seeing her in pain.
“No, it’s a fine question,” she said rubbing her wrists, deep in thought.
“Since you’ve seen so much . . . suffering . . . does it get easier?”
“No, never. Each and every time I’m with someone who is hurting, it feels like the first time. My heart aches with their ache, sometimes so much so I feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I listen to their suffering and feel it, and suffer with them. I’m usually filled with anger at what others have done to them or what they’ve done to themselves.
“But I have learned how to help. You know, I think it might be different for a helper who is one of your kind, because I’ve never fallen into despair. I feel the pain of others, the rawness of their terror or hurt, but I know there is real goodness. I know this day will end not with night, but with the brilliance of the moon. I know there is always hope – and beauty – and more to the moment than the moment.”
We looked up from our intimate conversation to see the restaurant had emptied, save for us. I took the bill and paid at the counter. As we walked to the car she turned to me and said, “Will, I’m going to need your help.”
“Anything. What can I do for you?”
“Even though I’ve been around for a long time, I haven’t experienced everything this life has to offer. You are my first romantic love. I feel . . . uneasy moving into these uncharted waters. Even though I don’t have the same nature as you, I’m not all-knowing and don’t always understand the best course of action. Usually, when I don’t know what to do, I ask one of my brothers or sisters. But since I’m the first of my kind to be in this situation, there isn’t anyone to really consult. It makes me feel kind of lost, uncertain.”
“Join the party,” I chuckled. It was nice to hear this. I was starting to think she did know everything, which meant, if I was wise, I’d always listen to her and do exactly what she thought best – which wouldn’t make for a very mutual relationship.
She said, “I don’t want to do anything that compromises your self-control. So you have to promise, if you find yourself compromised, you will tell me, immediately.”
I smiled.
“I mean it. This is very important to me.”
“I know it is, Lizzy. But since this is new to you, you must tell me if anything I do makes you feel uncomfortable, or potentially compromised. Do you have anything in mind?” And I could see she did.
She got into her car and said, “As a matter of fact I do. For a variety of reasons, I can’t go to your house.”
I was about to say why not? when I paused to think. That was a good idea. This way I could protect her, however limitedly, from my father’s eye. Also, if I was being honest, it was the better part of wisdom to spend time together in public, since I knew I needed to keep my hands to myself.
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”
Relief spread across her face.
Chapter Twenty: The Crowded Kitchen
Lizzy was spending more time away with her family. We never hung out at my place, like we agreed, and I didn’t care to spend much time there anyway.
Now that I was allowed to visit at her place, I noticed an ever-increasing amount of guests – all her kind.
They fit right in with her brothers and sisters, as if they were part of the family and the house was theirs too. I guess, maybe, it was.
A new one would be around for a few days, leave, only to be replaced with two or three more. The week of Thanksgiving break their house seemed like a hotel, housing at least 15 extra visitors.
Not that I paid much attention to them or their activities – most of my attention was focused on Liz – but I did notice something peculiar.
They were all, every last one of them, kind and accommodating. No one monopolized conversations, was rude, pushy or even in a bad mood. Also, I assumed they’d be surprised to see someone like me at the house, but they weren’t.
When I asked Lizzy about her guests, she confirmed what they were. She’d told them about us, asking for any advice or insight they had to offer.
“Get anything good?”
“Lots of good advice to mull over,” she said as her brow furrowed.
“What?” If they were all so wise, I bet they’d told her universally to drop me.
She saw as I changed from a teasing posture to a defensive, then defeated look. If they’d told her to stay away from me, they’d probably be right. What could I do about it?
“Will, don’t worry, nothing bad, okay?”
I tried to relax as she laughed.
“So what did they tell you?” Did I want to know? No and definitely.
“Everyone was so curious about you and me together. They’d all heard about us.”
“All, why?”
“News gets around fast in my community. We keep in touch and help each other out when needed. Sometimes we need advice about how to help this or that person or town, so we pool our resources and brainstorm. We have different insights given our specific experiences.” She got up to get something from the kitchen and I followed.
“So, what did they say?” my voice echoing down the hallway.
“Most are happy for us, and some are worried. Not much has stayed in our minds as vividly as that awful day in the garden when Adam and Eve were ordered to leave,” she said with a wince, the memory still fresh. “Some are worried, for me, that this might be the beginning of my end,” she said quite casually as she drank the milk she just poured.
I hung my head and slumped against the wall. “Lizzy, I don’t want that for you. I shouldn’t be with you.”
“Stop that. We are not to be run by fear! It’s one thing to assess a situation honestly and another to make important decisions based on worst-case scenarios. Sometimes t
he truth is hard to hear, but it’s the truth nonetheless. And actually, it turns out to be far worse to not hear the truth at all.”
“Now, as I was saying,” she continued, a smile back on her face, “my family is on pins and needles to see the outcome of this situation.”
“Why?”
“We love to love. We see all kinds of love and have experienced most, save this kind, the kind you and I share. All are wondering if this is something to be sought after, a good that will help us help the Knowers in some way. Regardless of what it means for each of them individually, they are happy for me. They see this new joy I have and can hardly contain their excitement. I asked them to leave you alone about it, though. I don’t want them bombarding you with a million questions.”
“I don’t mind. They can ask away.” She chuckled. “Is it unusual for them to have me around, knowing what I know?”
“It is unusual, but not the first time. Over the years, for a variety of reasons, we’ve told some Knowers. But this has only happened a handful of times.”
“So any helpful advice about . . . .”
“Kissing?” she said finishing my thought. She pulled her eyes off the ground and right into mine. “Cassie thought I might try putting my fighting guard on.”
“Fighting guard?” She must be referring to “fighting” the evil in us, the bad things we do.
“When we fight the . . . when we fight.”
I pulled upright, walking over to her and wrapped my arms around her, whispering in her ear, “Can you put this guard on easily.”
“Yes.”
“Anytime you want?” My breathing was picking up.
“Yes.”
“And it doesn’t hurt you to do it?”
“No. It’s on now.”
There in the kitchen, with two of her brothers and a few others I didn’t know sitting at the table, I bent down, slowly, towards Liz’s lovely lips. Her lips were softer, fuller than I remembered. A heat radiated between us as our lips moved together. I let go of her waist and ran my fingers along her jaw and through her hair.
She pulled slightly back from me and I saw the tears in the corners of her eyes. They ran down her face as she smiled. I was lost in our own private universe, just Lizzy and I, here together.
Something caught her attention. Turning to look in the same direction, I saw all the inhabitants of the house crowded into the kitchen smiling back at us. She let go of me and ran to the women as they all squealed in delight. One by one the men came to me, shaking with laughter, offering sincere congratulations.
I awkwardly nodded to the guys and went to the living room. Before I had too much time to process the kiss and our audience, Lizzy sat down on the couch next to me.
I put my arm around her and she snuggled into my side. She was grinning and my heart was so open it hurt. She was bewitching and pure to the core.
Why me? It was more than I deserved. A sense of thankfulness spread over me like the wind, enveloping me.
“That was the most amazing, and embarrassing, thing I’ve ever experienced, ever. Just when I think being with you can’t get any better, you somehow top it!”
“Truly amazing,” she said, though I thought her voice sounded wistful.
“Is something wrong?” I asked, pushing loose strands of hair behind her ear.
“I love that you pay attention to me. You are very attentive.”
“Did something happen?” I asked, a bit anxious now.
“Nothing you weren’t there for.” She fell silent and watched the willow in her front yard gracefully fling its spindly limbs about, being tossed by the wind.
“Was it amazing for you too?” Did her guard make it so she didn’t have the same experience I had?
“It’s going to take some getting used to,” she said, bringing her attention back inside the sheltered house. “I felt my guard trying to slip, trying to come off. That’s never happened before. I need to think through the possible ramifications of using the guard in this way.”
“Like what?”
“Well, I was fighting to keep it on and take it off at the same time. I’m not sure, but, I feel stretched out, like a sweater that’s been pulled out of shape. The guard fits snugly, or that’s how it usually feels. Right now it feels . . . loose.”
“You’ve got it on right now?”
“Yeah. I’m trying to determine if I did any damage to it.”
“Is it something you only feel or can you see it too?”
“I can see it. When I have it on the light reflects differently on me; nothing you can see though,” she said as she saw me squinting at her, searching to see what was in front of me, both visible and yet veiled.
This wasn’t right. I wouldn’t want to leave her unprotected.
“Back to the drawing board,” I said, letting too much of my disappointment show.
“I’m not sure. It’s almost completely back in place. Let’s try something. I want you to go outside, wait two minutes then come right up to me and hug me, regardless of what you see, okay?”
Sounds like a fun experiment. “Right now?”
She nodded and I was off the couch and out the door.
The wind was whipping by, blowing my hair in my face as I waited. I opened the door to a darkened house. She was standing in the middle of the living room, feet planted squarely on the ground like she was ready to be tackled. Behind her stood three of her sisters, all with hands on her back.
Without hesitating, I walked right up to her, and grabbed her. As we stood there, in the dark, I felt her relax as her sisters moved away, slowly backing up till they turned and left the den. She was painted in silhouette by the moon.
I’m not sure how long we stood there, holding each other, but I felt her pull back and look me over. She gave me a squeeze and crossed the room to turn on the lights.
“Did that work?” I asked. She nodded.
“How?”
“I borrowed my sisters’ guards to strengthen mine. But then I felt in control and let my guard drop. They backed off and I was able to be with you, containing my joy, and therefore not needing a shield.”
“Was it hard for you?” I asked, hoping she was fine.
“Yes, but I have a feeling the more we practice, the easier it’ll become.”
“I’ll help you practice any time!”
She laughed, chuckling with relief. “It feels so good to express my love for you through touch. I understand why your brothers and sisters get carried away with their bodies. That’s what usually happens, though.”
“What usually happens?”
“The vicious try to turn the good and lovely. What is lovelier than what we have? That’s why they work tirelessly to turn the body from doing what is life-affirming to what breeds death and destruction.”
“That won’t happen to us, Lizzy.”
“You’re right. I can control myself, and you can too.”
It was easy to be in control of myself here, with so many watching eyes. Would I be as strong if we ever were alone?
“So. . . why the audience in the kitchen?” I was pretty freaked out by her family’s reaction.
“I told you, they’re curious and happy for us. We are a community that doesn’t prize privacy like your kind does. We have no secrets from each other, why would we? Did it make you uncomfortable?”
“Well, yeah. It’s going to take some getting used to. I’ve spent my life hiding, seeking to be alone, keeping secrets, and avoiding an audience. Don’t you think, when we are physically intimate, we should be alone because it’s meant to be private, just between us?” I mean, come on!
“I don’t know, Will. That doesn’t strike me as a very good idea, but I’ll give it some thought.”
It was late and we had school tomorrow. Last day before Thanksgiving break. I planned to spend the day with Michael’s family and hoped Lizzy would come too. Sounds like a perfect day to me.
She kissed me on the cheek as I said goodnight. I was flying high as I left
and suddenly felt desperate to sleep anywhere but home. It was late but I knew John would be up.
I crashed at his place, that is, after we played three hours of Guitar Hero.
Chapter Twenty-One: Thankful
I woke with a kink in my back and a bad taste in my mouth, but I didn’t care. My father was gone, I was soon to be with Lizzy and we had no school for a long weekend. Thanksgiving was my favorite holiday of the year. Bakersfield doesn’t have much in the way of seasons, but towards the end of November the few deciduous trees have changed, and the fog brings a comforting blanket that moves in and out of the valley, obscuring the smog and barrenness.
I spend all the holidays at Michael’s house. His parents have always welcomed me. They knew there was a personal risk by being associated with me, but they’ve never said a word about it. They treated me like one of their own, down to presents under the Christmas tree and in the stocking they made for me the first Christmas I spent with them.
They invited me and a guest over for Thanksgiving, per usual. I wasn’t sure if Lizzy had other plans or would want to come. When I mentioned it to her she was giddy with anticipation.
I picked her up at noon. She looked festive in her dark brown corduroys and orange, cream, and black argyle sweater. Her hair was in her usual ponytail, which I loved. I wanted to see her face, all of it. I hated when she was hidden under her locks.
As we drove to Michael’s house, Lizzy fiddled with the radio, and I wondered if she’d been at the original Thanksgiving meal. Some questions are better left unasked. She couldn’t settle on a station, so she put in a CD she brought by Christopher Parkening, a master of the classical guitar.
Michael’s mom greeted us at the door, hugs for us both. Michael ushered me into the TV room, a.k.a. The Man Cave. Michael’s dad, George, was an accountant by trade and amateur builder. Last year his wife bugged him for an addition to their bedroom of a huge bathroom and walk-in closet. He agreed, with the provision the addition would be of the two-story kind. She would have her massive bathroom and closet, and he the room underneath it, which he turned into a media paradise, complete with huge black-leather seats, arranged stadium style.