Secret Society

by Robin Roseau

  "I have no doubt. But you can do better than survive."

  "Wrap it up," I repeated.

  "I let the hazing get out of hand. I should have stopped. I'm just as stubborn as anyone in the room, and I should have let it go. I am sorry."

  I wasn't impressed. "Fine. Apology accepted. Good night."

  I was back on my feet and heading for the door.

  "Your grandmother was one of the most important people in my life, Ms. Todd!"

  I froze. "Funny way to show it." I didn't bother turning around.

  "She and I fought, tooth and nail, but in the end, she made me stronger." I waited, wondering if she was going to say anything I cared about.

  And then she did. "Kiki Furman."

  "Please, Blythe. Please don't go." She approached me, and there were tears sliding from her eyes. She pressed her hands under her chin again, begging. "I need you," she added.

  "Claudine Grafton."

  Claudine approached, turning me to face her. She didn't say a word, but she wrapped her arms around me and held me firmly. I slowly wrapped mine around her. But then she did speak, whispering into my ear. "Stay, and I'll let you have a fresh photo. Nude, if you want."

  I barked a laugh and squeezed more tightly.

  "Sylvia Appleton."

  Claudine released me and turned me to Sylvia. She was looking me with some element of puzzlement. "If you leave," she said. "You won't know how the story ends."

  "I can write a new story."

  "If you leave, I won't know how the story ends."

  "Sylvia?"

  "If you leave, who will go walking with me?"

  She moved closer. "Please don't leave, Blythe. It would break my heart."

  And then she hugged me. It was awkwardly done, but I hugged her back. Then she whispered into my ear. "Everything is broken. You have to stay, or it won't get fixed." Then she pulled away.

  "Mary Ellen Hankins."

  Mary Ellen climbed from her seat and approached me. We looked into each other's eyes. "I'll match the offer from Taber."

  "It appears there is no Taber."

  "No, but I'll match the offer you wanted. Or we'll come to another agreement. I'll keep you busy with the work you love. You'll make more money than you can imagine, working sane hours."

  "What if I want to stay Guerrilla Girl?"

  "We'll work it out."

  "Judge Wren."

  The judge climbed to her feet, and I turned to face her. She came to a stop before me. "I'm an old woman," she said.

  "Not so old."

  "An old, foolish woman," she argued. "But you lit a fire in me I didn't even know existed, and no, not the one you're thinking of. All I can offer you is friendship, but I am asking you to stay. May I please hug you?"

  And so I nodded.

  We stood like that for a while, and then Mrs. Franklin said, "Opal Pearce."

  The judge released me and stepped back, and then Opal was there. I shook my hair out for a moment then looked up into her face, she down into mine. She looked tired, older than I'd ever seen her. I reached up and brushed at the corner of her eyes. She captured my hand and kissed the fingers, then held it to her chest.

  She never said a word, and neither did I.

  "I believe we have a vote to conduct," said Mrs. Franklin.

  Opal and I continued to look at each other as, around us, the women moved to the voting table. I heard them dropping marbles into the hat.

  The motion slowed, and then Kiki was beside me. She turned me towards her, and Opal stepped away. I stared into her troubled face. "I need you, Blythe. Do you understand?"

  "I think so."

  "Are you angry with me?"

  "No."

  She glanced over, and I knew Opal was there. And wasn't this an interesting dynamic? I wasn't ready to deal with that yet.

  "Give us all time to work this out," Kiki said. "There is an answer to this. Please, Blythe. I'll beg, however you want."

  "Let me get through this," I said. "If that's not all blue marbles..."

  "There might be a few red, but not enough to matter. You know that."

  "I want you in my life."

  "You'll have me."

  "I hope so." Then I looked at Opal. "Both of you."

  "Then buy us time to figure it out," Opal said.

  I nodded and turned around.

  * * * *

  Mrs. Franklin already had the hat. She stirred the contents with a finger. I wasn't going to play that game again. I walked over to the table, grabbed all the martini glasses and Mrs. Franklin's black marble. Then I took the white marble that Wilba Everest still held. I carried everything to the voting table, dumping the marbles into their proper bins and setting the glasses aside.

  "The glasses are traditional," Mrs. Franklin said. "May I have them back?"

  I walked back to stand in front of her. "Dump it," I said. "Right there." I pointed to the top of the table.

  She looked at me for a moment, and I thought she was going to rebel, but then she lifted the hat and tipped it over, holding it tightly to the cloth draped over the table. A few marbles tried to escape, but she captured them, then lifted the hat.

  There was a sea of blue against the black cloth, and one red marble.

  "Whose marble is that?" I asked, pointing. "We aren't going through this again. Whose is it?"

  No one said anything. I turned around. "Whose marble is that?" I demanded.

  "Is it one of the blue ones?" Sylvia asked. "Which marble are you pointing at?"

  "The red one," I said. "Whose marble is the red one?"

  "Which red one?"

  "What do you mean, which red one? There's only one red one, Sylvia."

  She stepped forward and looked at all the marbles.

  "Oh."

  "What do you mean, oh?"

  "I thought there'd be more."

  "Is that your red marble, Sylvia?"

  "It might be," she said.

  "Why did you give me a red marble?"

  "I didn't think you'd notice."

  "Excuse me?"

  "I want our walks."

  I stared at her.

  "I know I seem like a scatterbrain. Blythe, I've got six stories screaming at me right now. I can hardly think. I want you to take me for walks. I'm sorry."

  "Ms. Appleton," said the judge gently. "Perhaps tonight we should have a sea of blue marbles. Perhaps you would be willing to replace your red one with a blue one."

  "No," she said. "That wouldn't be good. That would make us all the same. Who will be love, if we're all the same? Who will be honesty and trust?"

  I pulled her into my arms. And she seemed like a scatterbrain, but she wasn't. She was brilliant. "I don't need a red marble to take you for walks, Sylvia."

  "I know," she whispered. "But you needed a red marble to hear me cry."

  "Oh Sylvia," I said.

  "Please, Blythe. You're planning something bad. The biddies think they've won, but you're planning something bad. Please don't. Let them win. We'll win in the end. They're old."

  "I've trusted all of you. Now it's time for you to trust me." Then I kissed her cheek.

  "Please, Blythe," she whispered.

  "Trust me," I told her again. Then I released her, and I saw Claudine waiting to take her from me.

  "Please, Blythe."

  I took a breath and turned back to Mrs. Franklin. She was smiling triumphantly. "Well, I think I'll consider that a unanimous vote. Ms. Blythe Suzanna Montgomery Todd, the Order of Circe would like to invite you to join us as a junior member of our order, with all the rights and responsibilities thereof. Please, can we not argue any further? I'll let you open the next bottle of wine yourself, and we can have a nice party."

  I turned away. I looked at my friends and their worried faces.

  "You seem to have something I want after all," I admitted.

  "I believe I do."

  "And you want me."

  "We do. We have a great many powerful people assembled here
tonight to welcome you. I believe they have waited long enough."

  "This wouldn't have been necessary without your manipulation, your corruption, of what should have been a trusted process." I turned around. "You have my friends, and I believe they are, indeed, my friends. But you succeeded in convincing me they weren't. I wonder if you are proud."

  "No."

  I didn't believe her.

  "You have my friends, but you can choose to relax your grip. Or they can choose to break free. I cannot make either of those choices for them."

  But then I took my hand, and I moved it over Mrs. Franklin's glass, half full of white wine, and I opened my fingers, dropping the concealed object I'd pawned earlier. It made a small splash in the wine before coming to a stop on the bottom.

  There were a variety of gasps as everyone in the room saw the black marble.

  "I want my friends, but not at the price of my dignity, and not if it means I'm under your conniving thumb. Maybe you'll let them go. Maybe they'll break away from you. I guess we'll see."

  Then I turned around and strode from the room.

  Final Delegation

  No one tried to stop me. No one followed me, although I heard Kiki wailing and thought I heard a struggle.

  She was an adult. She could break free, or she couldn't. They were all adults, and they could make their own decisions. I couldn't make their decisions for them.

  I had no idea what would happen now, but at least I had my answers, and I understood as well as I thought I could understand.

  One woman. One woman with far too much power over the lives of others. One woman playing games with us, games she had no right to play.

  I made it home unhindered. Of course I did. This was West Hollow. There's no crime in West Hollow. Deceit, yes. But no crime.

  Inside the front door, I kicked off my shoes. I stared around the foyer for a while. I wondered what I'd do now.

  I decided to wait. I decided to see what would happen.

  I decided to open a bottle of wine.

  * * * *

  No one came to me that night, but I received a text message from Opal. "Do nothing rash. Please trust me."

  I considered my response carefully. "How is Kiki?"

  "Distraught. She would have run with you. Hope is with her."

  I thought that was terribly fitting.

  Then she sent another message. "This must finish playing out, and then we will see where things are at."

  "Karen Franklin should cut her losses," I replied. "Allow my friends to see me, and I'll never bother her again."

  "Please trust me. I would have to violate trusts to say more."

  "I will," was my reply. "And never violate trust around me. It would hurt."

  "I know."

  "Are you playing politics?"

  "No. They are happening without me this time."

  "Then please take care of my friends."

  "I will. We must talk about Claudine sometime."

  "Sometime."

  I drank half the wine, corked the bottle, and then took a book to bed. I slept surprisingly well.

  * * * *

  Nothing happened on Sunday, but I received a text from Opal. "Patience. Trust me."

  "Calm down," I replied. "I'm letting this play out. Thinking of going golfing."

  "You are naughty," she replied. "I thought you were letting this play out."

  "What? I've heard you can find lesbians on a golf course. I thought I'd check out that rumor."

  "Blythe. I'd love to. But it's short term fun with possible long term loss."

  "I know. But I don't have anything to do."

  "LOL. Imagine that."

  * * * *

  I gave myself a sort of mini vacation. I did a little shopping, but not a lot of buying. I pulled my bike out, but once around the park was enough for me. I decided that was ridiculous, so I did a second loop, and then a third. And I decided biking was boring.

  I saw a movie then bought a book and found a quiet restaurant.

  The book was boring.

  I got mad at myself. I'd gotten so used to have no time to relax, I didn't know how anymore.

  But I saw a young man, perhaps late teens or early twenties, working on his laptop. My bill was paid, so I walked over and, without any invitation at all, I pulled out the chair and sat down.

  I'm not sure he could have been more surprised.

  "May I talk to you, or is there a girl that will freak out?"

  "No. I mean yes. Um. No to the girl. Yes to the talk."

  I smiled. "Relax. I'm a lesbian. I'm not about to hit on you, but if you make one comment about wanting to watch, I will eviscerate you in your chair."

  "Not one crude remark," he said. "I swear. But you're very blunt."

  "Yeah, that's new. I'm not sure I like it."

  "It's good," he said. "I wish you weren't gay."

  I laughed. "Sucks, huh?"

  "If you were straight, you wouldn't be here talking to me," he said. "I'll take what I can get."

  "Very pragmatic," I said. I nodded to his computer. "Do you game?"

  "Some," he said cautiously.

  "Why?"

  "Excuse me?"

  "Why do you game?"

  "God, I don't know. It's kind of stupid, you know. Takes a ton of time, and what do you get out of it?"

  "You must get something."

  "It can be exciting, depending on the game, if you really get into it. Some girls do. Some girls are awesome gamers."

  "I know about Gamergate," I said. "Which side are you on?"

  "Those guys are assholes. Everyone knows they're assholes. What freaking moron wants to chase girls away? It doesn't make any sense. Plus they're assholes. Did I mention they're assholes?"

  I laughed. "I believe you might have." I held out my hand. "Blythe."

  "Roger," he said, shaking. "You're going somewhere with this, aren't you?"

  "Yeah. Do you have any games on that?"

  "Yeah, but my best games are on the machine at home."

  "Don't take this the wrong way, but do you live with your parents?"

  "I'm pretty young for Broadwater." He eyed me. "You're older than I am, but you're young for Broadwater, too."

  "I'm really young for West Hollow."

  "Oh shit."

  "Long, long, story. So, parents?"

  He pointed upstairs. "Apartment over the restaurant. I'm a waiter here."

  "Are you on break?"

  "No. It's quiet today, so they let me off."

  "Bummer. No tips that way."

  He shrugged. "Don't take this the wrong way, but did you want to see my gaming setup?"

  "You understand, I'm not hitting on you, and if you lay a finger on me, I will scream my lungs out while scratching your eyes out of their sockets."

  "Whoa!" he said. "You lesbian, me nerd."

  I laughed. "Yeah, I want to see it. If we understand each other."

  "Yep. We're cool."

  Maybe it was stupid, but I liked him. He seemed cool. I followed him upstairs. The apartment was, well, about what I was going to afford if I moved out of Grandma's place.

  She was dead. If she didn't want to be Grandma, she shouldn't have died and left me to that coven of biddies.

  "It's not much."

  "If there's like, dirty underwear and stuff you need to toss, I'll wait here."

  "Nope. No dirty underwear. Maybe a dead soda can."

  "Only one?"

  "Maybe two, but I'm not a slob."

  It wasn't much, but it wasn't nothing, either. Kitchen, living room, and he waved, "Bedroom and bathroom are back there." Then he gestured.

  "Oh, nice," I said. I approached the machine. He had a pretty, shiny iMac, but I didn't see joysticks or gaming controllers or weird keyboards or any of that. "No special stuff?"

  "Like what?" I told him. "No, I don't play those games much. This setup works. What do you have?"

  "I haven't played a computer game in a long time. But I've got one of thes
e."

  "What model?"

  "Same size. Um. Maybe two years old, not quite."

  "Okay, new enough. You should be able to game on it, but if you didn't get extra memory."

  "I'm a graphics designer." That was easier to explain than marketing, and I bet he knew what that meant.

  "Oh. Then you maxed it out."

  "Totally."

  "So, what's going on, Blythe?"

  "My life got weird. I was trying to normalize it a little."

  "By striking up a conversation with some guy you saw in a restaurant? There's nothing normal here. Not that I mind, I'm just trying to catch up to you."

  "Yeah, that might be hard. I'm a little erratic." I paused. "Look. Is that portable?"

  "LAN party?"

  "Huh?"

  "Did you just invite me to your place to play computer games?"

  I laughed. "Yeah."

  "Got pizza?"

  "I've got a telephone and a credit card. What I don't have is any skill at all, and you'll cream me."

  "Naw. We'll play against the computer. I like those games better. We help each other."

  "Oh. Sure. What do I have to buy?"

  "Nothing."

  "Roger, I don't want to pirate anything."

  "Oh, we won't. Everything is downloaded from the internet now."

  "Good way to get viruses."

  "Not when you download direct from very, very reputable places, and you pay them, of course. You said you have a credit card."

  "Am I going to be able to play alone after you go home?"

  "Sure."

  "All right then." I gave him the address and directions. He gave me a web site, assured me it was safe, and actually showed me how to start the download. "I won't be long."

  * * * *

  Roger stayed late that night, and then he explained how we didn't have to be together to play together. "It's all on the Internet. Across the country is no different than across a table."

  "Cool."

  I had a blast and stayed up for another hour after he left.

  Then on my screen it said, "Go to bed, Blythe."

  I grabbed my phone. "How did you do that?"

  "Go to bed," it said on my screen. "But I'll find you tomorrow morning. Will you be on?"

  "Yeah. Mini-vacation."

  "Great."

  * * * *

  "What are you doing?"

  I screamed and jumped out of my seat. I spun around, and Claudine was there.

  "Don't do that!"