Program Erin

by Alex Fall

  But when I looked up, he was offering me an elbow. Oh...Oh! He wants to walk me home...

  Wait, is that code for something else? I feel like any normal girl would know what that means. Is this special? I should probably say something. I should probably move. Actually...I should probably breath first. I didn't realize I froze like that. And I didn't realize I was flexing my fresh hand so hard. Better not hurt it again.

  As we left the restaurant, the only hushed comment to catch my ear was the old lady in the corner.

  "Ben, look. Are those two dating?"

  I blushed again, so I kept my head tucked away in my coat. You planned this, didn't you Keegan? I think I'm going to kill him.

  * * *

  Lavender. The smell overtook any other scent in the area. And when I opened my eyes, I was lying down in a field of purple, an entire field of lavender. But more prominent than anything else I could see was Fake Arty looking over me while I slumbered.

  "Hello beautiful." Those words still made me tingle lightly on my insides.

  "I think I like Keegan more."

  "Why's that?"

  "He's my date," I admitted as I sat up.

  "Then why don't you dream about him? I'd love to be your Keegan for you."

  Playful. It shouldn't make me happy, but it does. "You are far too flirty."

  "Could it be because I'm madly in love?" He rang out with lower baritone pitch. "And here you thought I wouldn't make time for you because of the Greaters."

  My smile faded and I stared off into the distance. "Yeah, I bet you'd make time for me and my money," I mumbled.

  Fake Arty shifted. "Wait....what?"

  I swallowed for saying that out loud. But that IS how I feel. Why should I hide it? "You heard me."

  "Erin...you think I like you because you have money?" He asked in all seriousness.

  I couldn't look him in the face. But I know how people act around stupid things like money. And I know he has been reading my thoughts for a long time now. There's no way he doesn't know. I KNEW there was a reason why he stuck close. Yet, all I could say was simply, "Yes, I do."

  Sorrow. I feel sorrow. A cloud passed in front of the sun and the wind rustled everything a little.

  "Erin. That hurts..."

  "You can't tell me you didn't know. You know everything about me now."

  He came around until he was in my view. "I like you because of you, Erin."

  "You keep saying my name like it makes a difference. And you recognized that *cuss* card the second I pulled it out. You knew." There it is. My irritation.

  "...is this why you took some sleep meds?"

  I turned to face him. "Don't you dare..."

  Unexpectedly, the man knelt down before me and buried his head in his fists. It looked almost as if he was praying to me. "Erin De'mus, I am so, so sorry I acted in a way that makes you think I only want your money. But nothing could be further from the truth." He looked up. "The only reason I won't go ahead and say I love you is because we only met some days ago."

  "Don't use that on me. Throwing words around like love won't help you," I said, closing my eyes to stay undeterred.

  Fake Arty sighed. Sorrow and anxiety filled my dreams. There was no visual effect, but it felt as if the lavender around me was dying. He was searching. Searching for words to say.

  "You once read my mind. Please do it again."

  I opened my eyes to the dying but alive lavender. "What?"

  "A day or two before you rescued me. You read my mind and knew I was in danger. Read me now. See if I've betrayed you." I searched his face for sincerity. He continued: "Shall I tell you what you'll find?"

  I glared at him for a moment. "You can try. But you're putting your own words at risk."

  "I did know about the card, yes. I inquired out of curiosity. And you will also find an overwhelming attachment to Erin. Not her money. Not her fame. Just her and her beauty."

  The sorrow was creeping into my soul. I felt regret. My mind scourged me for ever doubting Keegan. I should have known better. I let past experiences blind me. I wanted to cry. I didn't know if it was bleed-off emotion from him, or if it was coming from me. Maybe it was both. But my stubborn self demanded the truth. I wanted to know for sure what Keegan's intentions were.

  I remember last night how happy I was when he sweet talked me. It was so comforting. So blissful. I see no reason why I wouldn't want that forever. But when I'm awake, things get complicated. Yet Keegan was always there for me, even in Lenburg where my money was worthless. I was homeless in Lenburg. But he still chose me. He told me he liked me before I ever bought him a thing. In all truth, he salvaged my life. Why am I mad at him? He played me a song last night. He teaches me the cello. He cooks for me. He thinks I'm beautiful.

  I'm a terrible person for doubting him. He has so much sentiment for me. There's no way he couldn't. I hurt him and pushed him away so much. Yet here he is, begging me not to throw him away. I freaked out over money. This time, I was the one the money changed. A tear rolled down my cheek.

  "I'm sorry Keegan." The shame swallowed me. I hid my face in my arms as a few more tears wet my eyes.

  "Did you see what you needed to see?"

  I took a breath to stabilize my speech. "I never read you. I don't know how. I just realized how *cussing* stupid I am."

  "Hey now, no need for all that."

  "I know," I wept.

  A moment of weeping silence passed. "You did read me. Just...not as deep as I expected. Or maybe I like you just that much that you didn't need to look that deep."

  "You're too good to me," I whimpered.

  "You say that too much. May I hug you? That's what dating people do these days by the way."

  A single sputtered laugh escaped my tear stained face. I nodded for his permission but kept my face hidden. Seconds later, I was scooped into a warm embrace. It tingled. It felt kind of nice. The sorrowful air eventually melted away as Keegan's spirits were lifted. The sorrow in my body melted away as Keegan lifted my own spirits.

  "Why were you so scared about the money anyway?" The fake asked after a moment of bonding.

  "You're the mind reader. You tell me."

  "You know I don't know literally everything about you, right? Unless you are asking me to..."

  "No! No...I would like some privacy," I said as I sat back and collected myself. "I just got scared is all."

  "I could tell. But what are you scared of?"

  "Sometimes people come up to me to get a picture or something with me because I'm a novelty. They're still scared of me, but they think it's cool to get a picture, like it's proof of them defying death or something. And then some people know about my card. Those people come up with business propositions or charities or whatever they think I might be interested in to get my money. Those worthless *cusses* are-"

  "Hey now!"

  I closed my mouth and flared my nose with annoyance that he interrupted. After a quick break, I continued. "Those people are scared too, but the idea that they can get money out of me emboldens them. Once or twice they even tried to fake being my friends first. It didn't last long, but it still hurts, knowing someone is terrified by your presence but they're influenced enough by money to act out of character. To try and con me.”

  "Ah, and you were afraid that I knew about your card this whole time and you were worried because I'm the closest anyone has ever gotten to you."

  "Something like that..."

  "Well, I can assure you that I'd always pick you, rich or broke."

  "That makes you an idiot."

  He held his hands out in disbelief. "Normal girls say thank you or something!"

  I let my head drop until I was looking at him from under my brow. "Keegan. Normal? Me?"

  "I thought you were trying to be," he said defensively.

  "I will never be."

  Then Fake Arty drew close enough to play with my hair. "Well, who wants an average girl anyway? I'm more interested in a certain someone who's totally one o
f a kind."

  Ugh, my personal space. I pushed him away, wondering how long this dream would be in the back of my mind. "Stop. It's uncomfortable when you're him."

  "You won't let me do it when your awake though," the masked Keegan whined.

  "Because it's uncomfortable."

  "What if I do it only when no one is watching?"

  "What if I don't want to be alone with you?" I retorted.

  "Please? We're dating Erin. Let me express my feelings for you."

  I shrunk back and folded my arms to guard against the chill in the air. "It makes me uncomfortable..."

  "Have you ever considered that you keeping your distance makes ME uncomfortable?"

  I felt the urge to break eye contact, but resisted so as not to appear weak. Honestly, I've never thought of it that way.

  "May I play with you when we're awake?" Fake Arty repeated.

  "I'll think about it."

  "Please?"

  "I already gave you my answer."

  "You're about to wake up."

  "Fine. We'll talk about it later anyway."

  "Erin, please let me like you."

  "What? What's that go to do with-"

  Morning. Ugh...being awake. I'm stiff. And my insides feel off. And it’s raining again outside. At least this time it's nice and warm in my room. I snuggled deeper into my blankets, attempting to resist waking up. I'm so glad I'm in my own bed, in my own room, I'm my own ship, with my own climate control. The crew always hated how hot I kept it throughout the ship and would turn it down in the common areas. It drives me nuts. This is MY house. Why don't I get to control the air? Vick is the only one that tolerates it.

  Vick...

  My mood began to dwindle. Soon I dragged my dream into it and began to beat myself up over accusing Keegan as well. So many failures. So little use I have. Why me? I sat up as the first wave of sadness rolled over me, and that's when I heard someone approach my door. Then the knocking.

  "Erin? Es-tu réveillé?" The ever present man asked.

  I didn't want to face him. He'll try to convince me otherwise, but he's too pure for me. The knocking picked up on my door again, this time more metallic sounding.

  “Erin?”

  “Interface...unlock,” I reluctantly mumbled. The softest click went off within the door. It must have taken Keegan a moment to notice because he knocked once more before coming in.

  “Bonjour! Oh...Qu'est-ce qui est arrivé, petit saphir?”

  “I don't know what you're saying,” I replied, rubbing my face.

  Keegan entered and positioned himself on my bed next to me. It was the first time another person has touched my bed, as far as I know. It felt strange. He likely thought nothing of it, because he remained still, awaiting an answer from me. I wonder if he he could tell I was facing away from him in this darkness. I didn't want him in here. Yet...Why did I unlock the door?

  My protector scooted closer. He wants me to talk.

  “...It's Vick.”

  “Oh,” he replied in understanding.

  I swallowed away some sadness. “I bet you're happy you were right yet again.”

  “Erin, non.” I felt myself pulled into a hug.

  “It's you too. I feel like a failure,” I admitted.

  Keegan pulled back enough until we were touching our foreheads together. His eyes were closed but I kept my own open. My personal space was being invaded. This feels romantic. This feels soothing in a way. That's probably why he's doing it. Is this what he was asking for in my dreams? Everything he does for me is so perfectly fitting. It makes me upset.

  “Stop. I'm uncomfortable.”

  “Petit déjeuner?” he whispered. I've heard that word before. I think it means breakfast or food.

  “Yeah.” I pulled away to break off the mushy feelings filling the room. Before long, I filled myself with a fresh, homemade meal and was practicing cello per my teacher's insistence. Here in the real world, my notes were smoothing out, especially with my renewed hand. My progress was surprising, even to myself. I guess that means I have a good teacher, but I would never tell him that. As I was nearing the end of my practice session, Keegan showed me the laptop.

  “Do you have plans today?”

  “Other than conditioning?” I finished off my reply with a shrug.

  Typing. “You don't need to exercise so much. Your body looks well crafted.”

  I felt my face flush. Either the translator made that awkward for me, or Keegan's weirdness has stepped where it doesn't belong. Based off of the ignorance he seemed to display, I assumed it was the translator. But just in case…

  “Why are you asking about my plans?” I questioned somewhat gruffly, setting the cello aside.

  “Date,” he spoke.

  My insides tingled a little. He wants to bring me on another date? “You ARE learning Anglo. I don't need to learn Parisian.”

  “Non, j'apprend lentement. Je ne connais que quelques mots de Anglo.”

  “Stop messing with me and just speak Anglo.”

  “Je ne parle pas anglo.”

  I glared at him for a moment. “I won't put up with this forever.”

  Keegan sighed. “C'est la vie.” Then he pointed towards the outdoor world. “On est partis?”

  “Keegan,” I whined. “I don't understand. You know that!” I felt myself pull the sleep pills from my hoodie pocket. That craving was on tongue.

  However, he paused and stared. Whatever he had planned at the moment was halted at the sight of the bottle. I too realized my mistake once I saw his face. We sat in silence for a moment, with me fingering the bottle partly out of shame. He wants me to stop, and I knew that. But I can't. Does he even know what these are? I don't think he knows.

  “What? It's just medicine for my power.”

  Keegan examined me. He can't mind read me when I'm awake. He doesn't know. And I lied to him. Why does that hurt me? Why am I so ashamed of my addiction? I decided to take it easy and only take two pills.

  My day progressed. Keegan took me first to a boutique, a specialty clothing store for fine women's dresses. He better not be planning on me interacting with anyone here. To my dismay, he was planning on me interacting with people here.

  “Oh! Oh...The lady in question is Erin De'mus,” a very gaudy and stylish man said. His presence is irritating.

  “No it's not, he's just mistaken,” I retorted.

  “Erin, non. Coopérer.”

  “Admittedly the man has several fine choices picked-”

  “I am NOT wearing a dress. Don't even ask.”

  “Erin,” Keegan whined.

  “No.”

  “S'il vous plaît?”

  “No.”

  Then Keegan's puppy eyes.

  “No!”

  After Keegan booted me from the store and got me a ‘surprise’ garment, he brought me to a spa. With some convincing on the employee's part and much begging and threatening on mine, I was given a massage, the first one ever in my life. I would have liked a little more pressure on my worn muscles, but I believe the masseuse was too terrified. Then lunch at an Oriental restaurant. It is unsettling that Keegan has only been here several days but is fast enough at picking through minds to find all these places. What does he have planned?

  Then back to the ship for me to “dress up.” With much more threatening, I eventually fit myself into a ritzy evening dress (one that I made sure to emphasize not to show off any of my skin anywhere) and encouraged to don my long fleece coat. I feel uncharacteristic. And then of all places, Keegan brought me to a concert hall, he himself dressed in what he translated as a “snazzy” suit, but he still appeared sloppy to me. Perhaps it was the unbuttoned top button and open coat. Either way, why am I at this hall?

  As I discovered, it was to see a symphony.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome all of here tonight with gratitude. We realize many that would enjoy such fine art are not able join us at present,” an immaculate and portly man announced. "There is an abun
dance of less fortunate people, but these are people nonetheless. They are lives. They are valuable. We must not forget them. Many have had their fare share of unfortunate events. And in memory of them, we are dedicating the following symphony to such ones. We would like to remember the poor, the sick, the victims; because how we treat them defines the goodness we are as people. And let's not forget those that have been shaped by tragedy, ones like the honored Erin De'mus."

  My body tensed and my eyes widened. I immediately turned to Keegan, who looked to me with confident eyes and shrugged, as if it were a big coincidence. I was left speechless. This was his plan wasn't it? This was his idea for the date? I'm going to kill him.

  "And so with great pleasure, I gave you the Symphony of Yales!"

  I sunk into my chair to hide. Keegan chuckled and wrapped his arms around my right arm, gesturing for me to watch. This symphony featured strings. The cello. A master cellist was here. I think Keegan planned this whole day to show me how an experienced cello player can sound.

  Keegan, you annoying genius...

  Part 28

  I entered my ship and immediately noted the painting on my wall. For several days now, Keegan has bringing me on dates. He's also been bringing me little gifts and trying to spritz up my ship so it doesn't look like cold, gray paneling. He says it's more homey feeling. I personally like my ship as is. He must have snuck this painting in before he went to sleep. Why is he so weird?

  I heard him stirring finally, so I went to wake him. Sharon was elsewhere, so once again it was me and Keegan in the ship.

  "Hey, wake up you day waster."

  To my surprise, Keegan was already up. He was rubbing his face. When he looked up at me, it was without a smile. He was...serious. Worried?

  "What's wrong?" I asked.

  "Erin..." He said. "Portable." He was pointing at the laptop.

  Typing. "We don't have much time. We have to find Arty."

  "Arty?" I asked?

  "Arty and Elly can fix Lenburg."

  "What?" I half shouted. They can do that? How? I'm not involved? This whole time...I thought maybe I would be the one.