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When Your Tabula Is Not Rasa

Chapter Ten
by Kaleigh Way

 

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"Speak softly and carry a big stick." — Theodore Roosevelt

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The clock read 6:16. The sun was already up. The window was open. I ran, barefoot and naked, into the bathroom, where I peed, washed my face, and brushed my hair. From the sounds below, Arrow was busy making breakfast.

I climbed back into bed and sat with my back against the headboard. The top sheet had come loose, so I draped it around me and hugged my knees to my chest.

Oh, boy! If I had contradictory emotions last night, I had even more contradictory feelings this morning! Diane had warned me that I might feel confused or upset in the morning. Well, I wasn't feeling either of those things... maybe what I felt was a weird mixture of both. Whatever I was feeling, it was messed up.

What I *did* feel was incredibly stupid, but at the same time I felt amazingly good. I felt good and stupid.

I felt stupid because I'd fallen for Arrow's lines, for his tried-and-true seduction techniques, which I was sure I'd find, word for word, in his crazy how-to-do-women book.

Yes, I *wanted* to have sex with him, but... I wanted it to be simple. I didn't want him to be completely in control. I thought it would be a mutual pleasure, a polite mutual agreement of let's do this and then we'd do it together.

It suddenly occurred to me that he wanted me to be angry last night — or at least, he wanted me to NOT be inclined to "copulate" with him. That's where he wanted to begin reeling me in.

Which was stupid. If he'd said to me earlier... after dinner, for instance.... well, basically ANY time before he'd offended me... if he'd said that line "Why don't you slip out of your clothes and we can see what you've got to work with?" — I would have slipped right out of my clothes, right then and there. He could have done his interrogation this morning, after all. He would have had his cake and eaten it, too.

Arrow, of course, didn't see it that way. He didn't want me when *I* was ready for it. He wanted to turn me, to coax me into yes when I was ready to tell him off.

So, yeah... I felt pretty stupid. He played me like a violin.

Still, he didn't trick me. He didn't force me. I got what I wanted, after all. Dammit.

On the other hand, WHOA, did I feel good! I'd *never* had sex like that before. Never. I'd always thought that Kristy and I had a good sex life, but after last night, I felt... well, I felt embarrassed about my performance as Fred.

I'm not going to go into details, but... oh my God. I mean, talk about playing me like a violin! I had to admit, those goofy letters of recommendation were right. I don't know where he learned all the things he did to me, but I wish I'd known some of it when I was still Fred.

He walked into the bedroom while I was still laughing and smiling and blushing to myself. "Oh!" I squeaked. "I didn't hear you come up the stairs!"

"Walk softly and carry a big stick," Arrow quipped. He set the breakfast tray at the end of the bed and looked down at his naked body.

"I see what you mean," I said, and widened my eyes comically.

He tilted his head and squinted at me. "There's something wrong here," he observed, frowning.

"What is it?" I asked.

In answer, he bent forward and whipped the sheet off me, leaving me utterly naked and laughing.

 

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The breakfast was cold by the time we ate it. First, there was the "big stick" delay. Then, for fun (and to show off) he tossed me over his right shoulder and clomped down the stairs, carrying the breakfast tray in his left hand while he played with my derriere with his right.

"You could have saved time by leaving the breakfast here and carrying me down to it," I pointed out.

"Where would be the fun in that?" he asked. "Besides, now we have to reheat the coffee, and the microwave is right over there."

He handed me the coffee mugs, and lifted me up. Luckily I set the mugs on the kitchen counter before we fell to kissing, and the kissing led to another intimate delay.

"Now we can say we've made love in every room of the house," I said, laughing.

"There's only two rooms," he observed. "The upstairs and the downstairs."

"True. But we have done them all!"

It was 8:30 before we were finally able to reheat the coffee.

"We ought to reheat the food as well," Arrow pointed out.

"At the rate we're going, it will take another two hours," I pointed. "The coffee's hot — that's what matters. We can eat the omelets cold."

He shrugged and smiled. "I do like cold toast."

We sat in the living room and devoured the food, sipping the coffee.

"Another pot," Arrow declared. "Then we make plans."

He wanted to hear about the incident at Exeter, and about my life as Dexie so far.

It was no surprise that he approved of Lane. He ignored my mixed feelings and called Lane "a practical man — a man with his head on his shoulders." He was impressed with the money and advice Lane gave me. "Shows constancy," he said, nodding approval.

"So!" Arrow exclaimed, rubbing his hands. "And now... to Spokane! Right? You're on your way to Spokane."

"Well, no," I said. "I have no reason to go to Spokane."

Arrow was stunned. For once, he was speechless. "Wh... Why... How can... no. No. No."

"Lizzie Martineau has nothing to do with me," I explained. "And she had very little to do with Dexie, either."

"She gave you life!" Arrow bellowed. "You have to see her!"

"No," I retorted with distaste. "It's a weird situation. It could even be a trap. Besides, she didn't give me life. I'm not Dexie. I don't have any issues with this woman. As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't exist."

Once again Arrow found himself at a loss for words. He gestured vaguely, searching for a place to begin.

"I'm *not* Dexie," I repeated. "Lizzie Martineau is not my mother."

"In a physical sense, she is. And for all you know, there could still be something of Dexie, somewhere inside you. You're going to have to deal with her sooner or later, and if you don't go see her mother — your mother — you could miss the opportunity. The woman's not going to live forever. Once she's dead, it will be too late."

"No," I declared. "There is no Dexie left inside me. Inside is only Fred."

We sat looking at each other. For once, *I* was the immovable one. For the first time in our long friendship, Arrow stopped, knowing there was nothing he could say.

After a few moments of silence, he said, "I'm going to take a shower," and he walked upstairs.

 

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After the shower stopped and his footsteps moved into the bedroom, I went up. Arrow was putting on his clothes.

"I want to go for a walk," he told me. "Do you want to come?"

"Yeah, I just need to shower first."

"Take your time," he replied. "I'll be outside."

 

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I washed and dressed quickly. After all, I wasn't wearing makeup and I didn't style or dry my hair. I just jumped into my clothes and brushed my hair. It could dry as we walked.

Arrow's change in mood puzzled me. I didn't understand why he should care whether I'd visit Dexie's mother. Maybe it was that thing he said about something of Dexie, somewhere inside. If he really believed that, it would explain his feelings. But I was quite sure that I was the only one in this body. As far as remnants of Dexie, there were none. I specifically asked the aliens that very question: whether Fred's memories were superimposed on whatever was left of Dexie... but they interrupted, saying, "No, only you. She's gone."

If I explained that, maybe he'd drop it.

I grabbed my bag, dropped my brush inside, and ran out to find Arrow.

He was standing in the yard, looking at the sky. As soon as I shut the front door, he turned and started walking toward the road. I had to run to catch up with him.

"Hey," I said, puffing a little, "I have to tell you something." I repeated the whole exchange with the aliens about Dexie being gone. He listened in silence, glanced at me once or twice, and kept walking. At one point he reached down and took my hand and held it for a while.

It was an easy walk; it was all downhill. He obviously didn't want to talk, so once I go to the part where the aliens said, "No, only you. She's gone," I stopped, and the two of us walked in silence. The only sounds were our footsteps, the birds, the breeze rustling the trees, and the occasional boat horn.

Soon we arrived at the ferry terminal, and Arrow bought us tickets. Round-trip tickets. I didn't need to ask where we were going; Seattle was the only destination. I didn't know why we were going, but I didn't mind waiting to find out. Besides, Arrow was still brooding, and he wouldn't talk until he was ready.

The ferry arrived. We went aboard. We got some coffee and took a table.

Once we were underway, Arrow finally spoke. "I don't understand your attitude," he said. "You act as if you just picked up a new body. For you, it's like you bought a new car."

"I guess I do feel that way," I agreed.

He shook his head. "How can you think that? How can have such little respect? Do you know what this girl was doing? Where she came from? Who she was? Where she was going?"

"I don't see why that matters," I replied. "I just think about who she is now."

"Which is you."

"Of course."

"She's dead; you moved in and took over."

"That's pretty cold."

Arrow spread his hands as if to say obviously! or that's what I'm saying!

"It's not as though I'm dishonoring her life," I protested.

"Yes, you are," he countered. "You don't even know what her life was! You don't give a damn about this girl, who basically died for YOU!"

It was like a slap in the face. I opened my mouth to protest, but he went on.

"Don't say that she didn't. If she didn't die, you would have died. Am I right?"

"Yes," I admitted.

"Don't you think you should be grateful?"

"I *am* grateful!"

"In what way? What have you done that shows your gratitude?"

That stopped me. I hadn't done anything for Dexie. I hadn't done anything at all.

"You moved in to someone's else house, and you immediately started changing it to suit you. You changed your name. You're going to move somewhere new. You're going to choose which way this life will go."

"Shouldn't I? Shouldn't I make plans of my own? I don't know that she HAD any plans!"

"You could at least deal with her unfinished business. Think about this: what would she have done if she had one more week to live?"

My face fell. I looked at the floor.

"You know what she would have done, don't you?"

"She would have gone to meet her mother," I muttered.

"What? I couldn't hear you!"

"SHE WOULD HAVE GONE TO MEET HER MOTHER," I shouted.

Arrow spread his hands as if to say, Then THAT is what you should do!

Mutely, I protested, so he said, "Didn't you care for this girl at all?"

Well, *that* got me. I teared up. Arrow saw that, and moved in for the kill.

"Tears mean nothing, Fred. Nothing. You owe it to this girl to find out everything you can about her. You need to know her, all the way down to the ground. You need to pick up her business. If that means stepping into that messed-up situation in Spokane... so be it. That's what it means."

"But I KNOW who she was!" I explained. "She was NO ONE! She was a nobody! She didn't do anything! She was just a kid!"

Now it was Arrow's turn to tear up. "God damn it!" he said softly. Then, mastering himself, he stopped the tears and looked at me. "I never thought I'd ever say this, Fred, but I wish you had gone to Vietnam."

"Why?" I cried, horrified.

"Because we were all 'just kids' there," he replied.

 

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The rest of the hour-long trip was an intense monologue on Arrow's part, delivered in a voice so quiet that at times I had to strain to hear. I didn't dare talk; it was serious, it was sacred, and of course in the end I felt like a heartless jackass.

What he wanted to tell me — no: what he wanted me to feel — was that no life was meaningless. No one was a throwaway. There were no walkons or extras in life.

"When we were in 'Nam," Arrow said, "I'm sure there were people who thought that we were nobodies, that we'd never done anything with our lives... Even after we came back. Of course they thought that way. Otherwise, they never would have sent us."
 

By the time we arrived in Seattle, I was well and properly cowed. Arrow, on the other hand, was upbeat — probably because he'd thrown a heavy weight off his own chest and onto my shoulders. My feet were dragging as we exited the terminal, and I felt pretty low. Arrow gave me a hug and said, "Don't be sad! You can still fix it!"

He took my hand and we walked up from the ferry terminal. Seattle (in case you don't know) is a city built on seven hills — just like Rome and Constantinople/Istanbul. Most everything is either up or down.

We walked for eight or ten blocks, until Arrow stopped in front of a block of a building made of glass, steel, and black stone.

"This is your stop," he said with a gentle smile.

"The Seattle Public Library?" I read, more than a little puzzled.

"Yes," he replied. "Before you meet your mother, there are two things you need to do: research and reconnaissance. We'll talk about reconnaissance tomorrow. Today is the day for research."

I frowned. "Research into what?"

"Benevolence and his cult," he replied. "Isn't it obvious? Before you go, you ought to find out everything you can about the man and his followers. Forewarned is forearmed."

"I don't want to be four-armed," I joked, snaking my arms to make my meaning clear.

"Well, today you only get one arm, if that makes you feel better. The other one comes tomorrow," he retorted, also (thankfully) joking.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I asked him.

"You ask a librarian!"

"And you think that librarians know about cults?"

"Librarians don't need to know everything. What they *do* know is how to find everything. This particular library has great librarians. You'll see. You go and tell them what you want to know, and they will help you find it."

I wanted to protest, but after all he'd said this morning, all I could do was nod.

"I'll meet you at the 5:35 back to Bremerton," he told me. "You know the way to the ferry terminal?"

I nodded again.

At that, he lifted me off my feet and kissed me, leaving me breathless. Then he walked away.