But I also kinda know what’s goin’ on here, too. I know that I better not use the black crayon too much. I did that once, in rehab, and it was a big frickin’ deal until I convinced them that I wasn’t feelin’ all that depressed, I just like to draw in black. See, when they’re ‘observing’ you, you gotta use the colors. So I’ve picked a few: reds, yellows, greens and blues. Mostly primaries, but there’s a crayon that’s the same color as Shi’s eyes, and I’ve been playin’ with that one for a while.
They want me to do a self-portrait. I don’t really want to. Too much to think about. Can’t make myself too big or too small. Can’t make anything stand out. It’s all like a game. I know I’ll do it, I’ll give in, give them what they want. They make me do this at the beginning of coming here; they’ll make me do it on the way out, too. It’s part of the deal, I just don’t like this part of the deal.
So I’m doodling. I just got done with a page full of stars. All kinds. Some of them I’ve filled in and some are just outlines. Big, small, all the colors, five points, six points, you name it, I got ‘em. They look kinda pretty and I put that sheet aside and start another. On this one I just put a few stars. A big one, some small ones, another big one. And then I start drawing little figures in between them, like, you know, fairies or angels, or somethin’, but the don’t have wings. They all have aqua blue eyes. And red hair.
I miss Shi.
But the picture is makin’ me smile. I put that one in the pile then start another. This one is a mountain. Like where I live. A green mountain with lots of bumps up the sides. Lots of trees. Lots of little roads going up and around the mountain.
I like this mountain. I like the one I live on, too. I guess the past coupla months, since Shi came to work for me, it’s gotten better up on the mountain. I don’t think I’ve thought about leaving for a long time now. At least a month. And now, bein’ back in Florida, I know that I really DON’T want to live here full time again. I’m glad I came, I and know that I can come and go from now on and not feel weird or bad about it.
Hot damn, there’s a little Shi fairy hiding in the trees.
I wonder what she’s doin’ today? She’s probably busy. She’s always busy. I wonder what my house is gonna look like when I get back?
I wonder if she’s figured out that I’m here?
I just couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to think that I NEEDED to be here or that I was havin’ a problem. I’m not having a problem, I WANT to be here, I want this time to think and talk to people who don’t know me. Impartial people. And I want to talk mostly about Shi, so I couldn’t tell her that and I didn’t want to lie. So I did nothing.
Hell, she’s probably glad that I’m not leavin’ any more half assed messages on the machine and buggin’ the crap outta her.
I take a clean sheet of paper and find a brown crayon. I make an oval. That’s me, my face. I’m using brown ‘cause I gotta tan. That cracks me up. And I’m using brown ‘cause my eyes are brown, and my hair is brown, too. Brown, brown, I’m a brown clown.
Last night I had my session with Dr. Andrews. He’s cool. I’ve seen him before, and I guess if I still lived around here, I’d see him regularly. So I took off after dinner and went to see the guy and I talked about what’s going on with me. How I’m really obsessed with Shi and how I don’t know if that’s good or bad. How I’ve pretty much ended my relationship with Sarah, but that it has nothin’ to do with Shi, it has to do with me and my feelings.
And we talked about that a lot, because Dr. Andrews had some questions I should be asking myself. What was funny was, once I thought about those questions, they were questions I was sorta asking myself anyway.
It has kinda gone around in my head that maybe having Shi around, just AROUND, gave me the balls to finish things with Sarah. I’ve thought about that all night, and I don’t think so. I think I was pretty damn tired of all the drama. I already knew that I didn’t want to get married, that I didn’t want to be in Sarah’s life every day, and I didn’t want her in mine. I think the shit woulda hit the fan whether Shi was there or not. Maybe not the way it did, but eventually.
What it came down to was that I didn’t leave Sarah for Shi. Not in any way. Sarah was gone before Shi came around. Where it gets blurry, at least for me, is whether or not I’m using Shi as some kinda substitute for Sarah.
I have a problem with that.
I have a problem with always overlapping my relationships. I kinda don’t leave one until there’s another one in place. No gaps.
But I’m not in a relationship with Shi. Maybe in my dreams. If we’re anything, MAYBE we’re friends. Maybe. But there’s no relationship where she’s living with me, or we’re dating or anything like that.
I just like having Siobhan around so much, and I’d jump at any chance to be closer with her. If anything, she’s been a good influence in my life. She’s paid attention to things that I don’t pay attention to. Which would include paying attention to me.
I finally give up the brown crayon and look for a pink one. Lips. I got pink lips. Well, reddish, I guess, but mostly pink. I color them in. Now I gotta use the black crayon. My mustache. My beard. Yeah, black, not brown, even though it IS brown. Any more brown and this is gonna look like a giant turd I’m drawin’ here.
Tonight, when I go talk to Dr. Andrews again, I can tell him, for sure, that Shi isn’t a substitute for anyone, or anything, and I know that I’ll be telling him the truth. She’s her own person and has nothing to do with the changes in my personal life.
What I can’t tell him is how I feel about her, because I’m not sure myself. I know I’m crazy about her. I think I love her, at least it feels like that to me, but I don’t think that it’s the best way to ‘be’ about her. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think about her. I don’t know, maybe if there was someone else in my life, if there was another woman that I was in love with or even interested in, maybe all these feelings I have would be for someone else. Maybe they wouldn’t ‘be’ at all.
I don’t know.
So I guess that’s what we’ll talk about, how I’m not sure about this crush I got on my housekeeper.
Housekeeper. What a joke. Yeah, she takes care of the house, but I think she takes care of me more. I don’t want that to change. I guess that’s my problem, that I want things to stay the way they are, but I don’t.
Christ, I’m so fucked up some days.
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“Hello, stranger,” Nyle whispers to me from behind her post at the front desk in Payson Library.
“Hi, how have you been?”
“Fine, fine. WHERE have YOU been?” she asks, then she smiles at me.
“Running around like a crazy person trying to finish up some of the projects I started at the house. The usual things.” I place a large stack of books on the counter and get out my wallet. I have no idea what I owe in fines, but I know that I’ve had some of these books well past their due dates. I’m slightly ashamed; this never would have happened to me back in the good old days of being broke.
Money makes you careless.
“What do I owe?” I ask.
“Owe? Don’t be ridiculous. You owe me some tea time.” She takes the books and dumps them on a cart, tells an intern to check them in, tells another person that she’s taking an early break, and comes out from behind the desk. Her arm is through mine before I can think and she’s leading me off to the nearest pavilion.
“In a hurry?” I ask her.
“No more than usual, so, tell me, how was your Saturday with David last weekend?”
“Get to the point, Nyle, I hate it when you beat around the bush,” I say with a laugh and shake of my head. “It was fine. We drove up to Solvang.”
“I know that, he brought me some macaroons. They were decadent. Was he?”
“Nyle!”
“Oh, don’t be impossible, he already is,” she says as we approach the line to get our drinks.
“He was a perfect gentleman. We drove to the University of Santa Barbara, dropped off some papers, then lunched in Solvang. Walked around, drove back down the coast, went for a drink and he took me home, Nyle, get that expression off your face, please.”
“That’s it?”
“He let me drive his car.”
“What, not that sporty thing?”
“Yes. It’s an Alpine. Drives great.”
“This must be serious if he’s letting you play with his, ahem, toys.”
“You’re terrible, Nyle, have I told you that recently?”
“I think you just did.” She’s nonplussed as she orders our tea and pays for it with a plastic ID card. She demands real cups, and not the usual Styrofoam ones, which the waitperson gives to us with reluctance. Nyle just roll her eyes and hands me a cup and saucer. “Outside?”
“Sure.”
We find our usual spot on the grass and make ourselves comfortable under a tree.
“It sounds as if the two of you had a nice time. Are you going to see him again?” she asks.
“I had him to supper last night. And he invited me to some affair next week. I have to go shopping for something appropriate to wear.”
“Oh, he invited you to the Director’s Ball?” she says.
“I guess so, is that what it is? He only said it was a black tie function.”
“Yes, it is. It’s a pretty important event. David’s going to be ‘introduced’. A formality, but one that they go through with all the new dignitaries.”
“Dignitary?”
“Our David’s pretty important around here. They don’t ship them in from other countries all the time, much less to chair a department.”
“Well, ‘our David’ invited me, and I need something to wear. I’m going to go looking over the weekend. Are you busy? Would you like to come along?”
“I’d love to, I need something myself.”
“Oh, you’re going, too?”
“Yes. I thought I’d go for a bit of a spa treatment. Do the hair, nails, feet. Interested?”
“Yes, it sounds wonderful.”
“What sounds wonderful?” David asks. I didn’t hear him come up on the grass behind us. Now he’s sitting down in that graceful way he has of lowering himself in one movement to sit cross legged between me and Nyle.
“A day of complete pampering followed by over spending on evening clothes,” Nyle says.
“Ah, the Ball. I suppose I’ll have to drag my tuxedo out of mothballs, if I can find where I’ve packed it away. I expect I’ve got my work cut out for me with that.” He scrunches up his nose in concentration. “Well, one can always obtain a new one.” He turns to Nyle. “I take it you’re in attendance, as well?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Have you finished your speech yet?”
“No, I thought that I would simply improvise. ‘Thank you ladies and gentlemen of the Faculty and Staff, for allowing me to work myself to the bone for the edifying experience of teaching those who will not be taught.’ Something in that vein. Which, speaking of those who WILL be taught, have you thought about our discussion about continuing education, Siobhan?”
“Not really.” I give him a wry smile.
“I’m going to fetch myself a cup of tea. Perhaps while I’m gone Nyle might be able to persuade you TO think about it.” He puts down his usual load of papers, anchoring them with his briefcase, and shifts himself to stand. But not before leaning over and planting a kiss on my lips.
Then he’s up and gone.
“I don’t think I have the same tools of persuasion that David does, hmm?” Nyle remarks. She arches an eyebrow at me and grins.
I just sip my tea.
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© 2003 Chandrah, Inc.
© 2003 (*> Baby Bird Productions
