She just stood there, like I was crazy. Or weird anyway. “You think I’m weird, right?”
“No. I used to pretend that I could talk to you too. You told me to set a trap for Phlegm before I married him. You also said I should ignore the queen and concentrate on the king. Yesterday, you told me to turn myself invisible, which I thought was crazy until you showed up in this. I wanted you to come, so Doc said I should ask you to. Did you hear me asking you?”
“No, I just knew that you were in trouble.”
I stared at her for a long time, trying to memorize her before I left. I didn’t know what to say. Everything I had thought about finding Izzy and what we could do afterwards was all … gone. “You’re getting married to a guy named Phlegm?”
This time she put two fingers in her mouth and pretended to gag. “Definitely not,” she said. “Phlegm’s the informant. I’ve been trying to expose him.”
Izzy must have seen my face relax – it had felt like a concrete slab when I asked her about her marriage. But she had made a mistake. “The informant isn’t Phlegm. It’s a guy named Clem.”
“Clem’s the Phlegm.”
“Huh?”
“Phlegm’s real name is Clem. I called him Phlegm because…
“He’s all yucky. And Clem the Phlegm rhymes and that makes him sound funny and not dangerous.”
“You’ve been reading my bots.”
“I liked the poem about the singing bird.”
“One of my favorites.”
“You knew that she wasn’t talking about a bird, right?”
“Sure.”
“It took me a while to figure that out,” I admitted and pretended to look all embarrassed.
Izzy giggled. It was not an unpleasant sound.
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Chapter 26
From Izzy's journals: Friday continued.
Will’s face broke into a broad smile when I giggled about the poem. He had changed a lot; understood Clem the Phlegm; understood the poem; obviously had read some of my bots; had even taken off his ear-gear and wasn’t acting self-conscious about it. He had grown a bit too; really quite handsome; except for the beard, but I wouldn’t tell him that.
Realized we had been just standing there, staring at each other; big goofy smile on his face; one on mine too probably; couldn’t help it.
This is really awkward, I thought. Standing stiff as boards; afraid to touch each other; unsure what the other was thinking; ‘fraid to ask; at least I was.
“I suppose we should say hello properly,” I said to relieve the tension; tried to raise my hand for a palm slap but we were too close. “We could try a hug, I suppose,” I said as nonchalantly as I could manage.
Will turned his head as though he was looking for something. I turned my face too. We swiveled our heads in unison for a bit. “What are you looking for?" I asked.
“I wondered if there was a damsel in dis-dress nearby who needed a hug first.”
That was funny! “Would a damsel in dis-smock do?”
“Have to, I suppose.” He put his arms around my shoulders and I put mine around his waist. We hung there for a while, still hardly touching.
“I won’t break, Will.”
Then, he pulled me against his chest and I could hardly breathe.
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Chapter 27
From Will's journals: Friday continued.
We hugged for the longest time and then we pulled back a bit. It was kind of hot in the sky-sling. Izzy’s face was a little pink. Mine felt warm too. What if my face started to sweat?
“I really am a damsel in distress, Will. Cross my heart.”
Izzy had to take her hands away from my waist to do that. Then, she just rested her hands on my arms. I lowered my own arms so that my hands were touching her waist. I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t want to stop touching her, but what if she didn’t want my hands on her waist? Are there rules on how to touch? “What do you want me to do?” I asked instead.
So, she told me, but first she wanted me to know everything about Phlegm. Then, she told me everything she had done, and what still remained to be done, and what she and Doc were going to do at the wedding. Her hands tightened when she talked about Phlegm, and I realized that she was frightened about what he might do to her. She flapped her hands around when she talked about not being able to figure out what to do. But, she always put them back on my arms. When she described the plan, she numbered each step with a finger on my chest; first we do this; second, we do this. She was changing the plan as she talked – putting me into it, she said. I was concentrating on what she was saying, of course. What she was planning was dangerous for everyone, but I was still aware of her hands; and her face right in front of mine; and her blue eyes looking into mine; and the wisps of red hair hanging over her forehead almost brushing against my eyes. I mind-instructed the filter to let more air into the sling.
“Got all of that?”
“Yeah.”
There was an awkward pause.
“The plan will work, Izzy. Phlegm won’t see it coming. It’s a perfect trap.”
“Now that you’re here, Will.”
Another awkward pause.
“I’m really glad you came, Will.”
“I wanted to find you before, but you said …”
“I know. But, it’s different now. They can’t see you.”
More silence. What can I say? What can I say? I latched onto something we could talk about. “What were you going to do after you exposed Phlegm and left the camp?”
“I didn’t know,” she said hesitantly. “Go underground. Try to fit in somewhere where they’d accept an outsider. Try to find a way to fight the DPS.” She was flipping her right hand over and back on my arms as she spoke.
“I was kinda thinking that I’d fight the DPS too,” I said.
“Have you made a strategic plan?”
“No, I’m not very good at that.”
More silence.
“I could help you with the planning part if you didn’t mind me being around.”
I rushed to get the words out. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Do you have a camp yet?”
“I used to. Then, I was camping in the DPS building. You could pick the campsite, it you wanted. With the sky-sling, it can be anywhere you wanted.”
“You could say if you didn’t like it.”
More silence.
“So, you want to try being a team for a while, Will?”
“I was kinda hoping you’d want to.”
What do I do now? What do I say? I was thinking about lowering my right hand to shake hers, but we were too close for that. She surprised me by changing the subject.
“I’m sorry I scratched your face in our fake fight, Will.”
I was a bit relieved to have something to talk about. “That’s all right. The scratches weren’t deep. I don’t think there are any scars.”
“Let me feel.” She ran her fingers up and down both my cheeks. Light touches. Tickly. “I don’t feel anything,” she said. Turn your head a bit; I’ll take a look.
She put her face right up to mine. I could feel her hair. Then, her nose. Then, her eyelashes. Then, a light kiss on my cheek. “This one’s OK.” She turned my face and inspected the other cheek. It received a tingly kiss of approval too.
We stood there for a while. Cheek touching cheek.
“I could check to see if Wannabee scratched your cheeks when he grabbed you,” I offered.
“I think he might have, Will.”
So I did. It took a long time. I could feel her breath going in and out. When I gave her a kiss of approval, she jumped a little as though I had touched a nerve. Her face wasn’t scratched a bit. I told her so after approving the second cheek.
We hung there together. I had left my cheek touching her cheek after my last inspection. She didn’t seem to mind.
“I think I may have scratched your lips,
Will.”
“Do you think Wannabee scratched your lips, Izzy?” We both asked our question at the same time. That made us laugh. But, it wasn’t much of a laugh.
Izzy raised her face, closed her eyes, and said, “You first, Will.”
I was getting up my nerve when I saw a figure running on the ground below us.
“Uh, Izzy?”
“What?” she breathed.
“Wannabee is running into camp. Do you think…”
Izzy snapped her head around so fast that we banged noses. She told Wannabee that she was going to strangle him with her vine and leave him to be mauled and eaten by the nearest lion. That didn’t make any sense, but the next part did. I let her out of the sling in the woods closest to the children’s dorm like she had said, rose to tree level again, and followed Wannabee and another man into the woods.
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Chapter 28
From Izzy's journals: Friday evening.
I was playing the board game Give Donald Trump a New Hairpiece with my students when Phlegm burst into the girls’ dorm and pointed his finger at me. “Tell me where you’ve been?” he demanded.
“Right here,” I answered innocently. “I’ve been keeping Janey company. She’s been ill.” The girls and I collectively shrugged when he left and we resumed trying to design an uglier hairpiece than the one in the picture. This game always took a long time to finish.
I met Will after dark, snuck over to Doc’s cabin, knocked, and peeked in. Doc waved us in, stood up, saw Will, and said, “You must be U-Know-Who.” Not hard to guess. I was holding onto his left arm so tightly that Will couldn’t have escaped, even if he had wanted to.
Will looked puzzled; turned to me; “Did you not like the name I chose?”
I explained that I didn’t want Doc to know his name in case Doc was captured.
“You can call me U-No for short,” Will said, and that got a laugh.
Doc took us into his living area, made us comfortable in a big sofa, pulled up a kitchen chair in front of us, and we got down to business. We went through the whole wedding ceremony plan until we had it down perfectly.
Afterwards, Will reported that he had followed Phlegm to the treasure and had determined that it was buried deep in the ground. Phlegm would not be able to get to it quickly. I reminded Will to leave signs tomorrow morning suggesting that someone might have dug it up. We wanted Phlegm to be deep in the hole when he was found.
Doc wanted to know what I was going to do after the wedding; told him U-No-Who and I were going to disappear and fight the DPS together. Doc got a big wide smile. “I’m very happy to hear that,” he said and asked if we’d have any trouble getting away safely with all the shooting we were anticipating. Told Doc that he didn’t want to know how we were getting away. Doc seemed content with that.
# # # # # # # #
We were all relaxing and feeling optimistic about tomorrow. Will was telling us about some of the DPS economic reports he had read. Doc knew not to ask Will how he had found them, but was paying close attention to what he was saying. I was daydreaming – still glommed onto Will’s arm. I hadn’t let it go since we arrived; wondered if he was getting pins and needles; rubbed it for him. Doc noticed; winked and smiled at me; was glad he approved. I tried to snuggle up closer. Will was talking to Doc but raised his arm and I scooted in underneath; thank goodness for automatic male reflexes. Will was a little slower off the mark when he had to think about these things.
Doc wanted to talk about other kind of economics; suggested that Will should dig up Phlegm’s treasure tonight. I said that we wanted to keep Phlegm at the stash for a while; we couldn’t do that if we dug it up for him. Doc said he was thinking that we should dig it up so that Will and I could keep it safe; otherwise, wackos would use the treasure to buy more weapons. It would be better for everyone if the gold and money were kept out of their hands, but we could always return it to the DPS who would undoubtedly reward us for our honesty. Then, he winked again.
It was a good idea. With money, Will and I could acquire things without having to expose ourselves by bartering. I asked Will if he could dig up the stash, take out everything, and re-bury the box deeper? Will said Yes but he was confused by Doc’s wink. I had to explain that Doc’s wink meant that Doc didn’t really want us to return the money to the DPS.
“That’s what a wink means?”
Doc and I nodded.
“But, that’s not what it meant when he winked at you and you squeezed closer to me.”
“Different eye,” Doc tried.
“Different eye, definitely.” I chimed in.
Will glazed his eyes for a sec. “Right eye both times," he said. “Teasing me?” he asked.
I told Will that when people have been around each other for a long time, they got to know what the other person was thinking; a wink is a silent way of communicating. Doc’s second wink was to tell me that he was being sarcastic; his first wink told me… I stopped short; didn’t want to put words in Doc’s mouth.
“…that I approved of you.”
“Are you Izzy’s volunteer-father?”
Doc answered No at the same time as I said Yes. Then, we tried it again, but he said Yes and I said No. Finally, I looked really hard at Doc and said YES! He did a little bow from his chair and said Yes too; made me feel really good; today now officially the best day of my life.
Will looked at each of us and proclaimed. “You guys are weird.”
Doc started to explain, but I interrupted. “Wrong answer, Doc. You’re supposed to say, Are not.”
“Are too,” Will snapped back.
“I see the two of you are well on your way to developing your own secret communications, so I have just this to say.” Doc stepped to the sofa and told us both to stand up. I managed to do it without letting go of Will’s arm. Doc put his left hand on Will’s shoulder. “Do you promise me that you’re going to keep Melissa safe?" Will’s face looked like he hadn’t been expecting Doc’s gruff manner, but still squeezed out a Yes, Sir quickly. Then, Doc put his right hand on my shoulder and asked, “Melissa, do you promise you’re going to leave this sick place immediately after the wedding?” I answered Yes Doc, although I knew this would mean leaving him.
“Good, I’m happy." Doc moved close to us so that we were in a tight circle and raised his hands to the back of our heads. I was thinking that a group hug was imminent.
Instead, he puffed up his chest and got all official. “The two of you having exchanged promises, and this agreement having been sealed by a kiss,”… he bumped our two mouths together – “… by the authority vested in me by the state of anarchy, I now pronounce you..."
“Doc,” I strangled out!
“…friends.” Got’cha he mouthed at me. “You may now hug the old guy.”
Which we did.
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Chapter 29
From Izzy's journals: Saturday, October 21.
The wedding ceremony would start as soon as I appeared, so I was hiding behind a tree, waiting for my grandmother’s picture to come on the screen. I put both thumbs on the silver locket around my neck and made a big wish.
The ceremony was being held in the main clearing in the center of camp. Militant guests were on the right side of the aisle; supremacist guests were on the left. At the front of each aisle were the militant and supremacist men who were sitting cross-legged on the ground. Most had two long guns lying on their legs and ammunition belts looped across their chests. Then came the women of each group, sitting on chairs that we had brought out from the cabins. The six supremacist girls from school were sitting on blankets well behind the last row of chairs. Doc was sitting cross-legged in the center aisle between the two groups, about halfway back.
Except for Doc and the girls, everyone was in full-camouflage gear. Oops – forgot dear mother who was in a dress that she had dredged up from somewhere. Her usual fly-away hair was even nicely combed. I didn�
�t count but figured there were about one hundred guests.
Up at the front, dear mother was sitting in a chair off by herself. Phlegm was standing on a temporary wooden stage. Wannabee was there too in his role as marriage maker. His face was all patched up and his right hand was hidden in a cast.
Next to the stage was a table with a large electronic console displaying pictures of the lives of the bride and groom. Phlegm’s pictures were currently cycling on the screen. Phlegm with his buddies; Phlegm’s first gun; Phlegm’s first camouflage uniform; Phlegm’s first DPS kill; Phlegm’s second DPS kill; Phlegm’s third…; happy memories. My turn now. I had contributed only the picture of my grandmother with her picket sign so the official entertainment was quickly over.
I started down the aisle humming to myself Here comes the red hair and white skin. The words didn’t fit the music in my head but they were appropriate to this ceremony. One militant put his finger to a nostril and cleaned out the other with a huff as I walked by. Everyone else just stared at me. I was overwhelmed by the love in the clearing.
I was dressed in full camo gear with a thin belt containing contacts, cosmetics and dyes hidden under my jacket so that I could go to brown quickly. Since we weren't sure how the militants would react to my wedding announcements, my bow was hanging on my shoulder and I had a crowded quiver fastened to my belt. There were three edged weapons under my clothes. Will would be relocating to the table holding the video console soon. If there were any gunplay, I’d tip the table over, fall on the ground behind it, and Will would scoop me into his sky-sling and high into the air without anyone actually seeing me disappear.
Phlegm and Wannabee had abbreviated Doc’s old wedding ceremony so I had told Will to be ready as soon as I reached the front. I stood on the left side of the stage, facing Phlegm. Wannabee asked the audience who gave the bride away and dear mother said "Yo."
That completed the preliminaries. Next – the vows. Since all IOF citizens and the dissidents had computers that would respond only to the owner’s thought or voice commands, our marriage ceremonies have incorporated the ceremonial exchange of pinky-ring computers as a symbol of the new union. Before the wedding, the groom creates a shared folder on his ring. Then, in the ceremony, he places his pinky computer on the little finger of the bride's left hand and tells her the password to that folder. The bride does the same for him. The next day they return the computers to the rightful owners, but the shared folder on each ring theoretically remains. In practice, this didn’t happen – at least not in the dissident community. I took my pinky computer off and put it in the palm of my hand. I watched Phlegm doing the same.
I Got'cha! Page 18
