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Read to me, Lynette

Robert dismantled his stack hay bales – they weren’t doing the trick, and the open country seemed safe enough to open the large sliding door. He pulled with all his might to slide it open, but could only get half way. It was enough, though, to let in the sight of the evening’s cast: a full moon and storm clouds with their indigo pockets of stars. It had started raining in places on the horizon, where mountains peeked with their peaks into the low hanging clouds. The curve of our train tracks leaned left, heading toward them. And we could both smell electricity coming from charges polarizing between the ground and sky.

P’tuk-p’tuk…

P’tuk-p’tuk…

“What are you doing?!” I whispered accusingly . “Someone’ll see us!”

Robert sat beside the edge of the door, knees tucked in. Judging from the oncoming storm, it seemed the train’s wake would offer little shelter from the incoming drops of rain. After taking his time to let it in – the majesty of it all: the open fields, gently morphing storm clouds, the stars and moon – he breathed deep, then said he’d shut it once we get close to anything.

As the train settled into the curve ahead, raindrops started patting on the hull of our freight car, increasing until all we heard was a soothing roar.  Mixed with the p’tuk-p’tuk… p’tuk-p’tuk… of our train along the tracks and thunder rolling across the distant the sky, the whole ensemble lulled us into a rhythmic, meditative state.

P’tuk-p’tuk…

P’tuk-p’tuk…

Krrrrrrrrhmmmmm…

I rolled my eyes, sighed and went to sit next to him on the floor. He’d gathered several garden stones laying around from some previous shipment. The stones weren’t larger than a half bar of soap. Mauve, slate, beige, and all the browns and creams. Always, this tenderness about him. A soft, curious innocence.

Tossing the stones into the approaching wind, Robert gauged their weights with the force of his throws so they seemed to hover as they drifted backward, losing their inertia.

How curious.

“So,” I said, snagging one of his throwing stones. I tossed it out farther, perpendicular to the oncoming wind, and it flew out of sight. I was always a good pitcher, just didn’t account for the wind. “You’re supposed to fall in love with me.”

Robert tossed another stone, underhand and forward toward the front of the train, and it hovered, looked at us, then slowed and faded back.  “Something like that,” he said smiling to himself. The mood had shifted. Things had gotten real, and yet more and more surreal. We’d been visited by an alien of some sort, human in shape and form, with gender, even. She managed to change drastically the trajectory of our travel plans. Who knows what else she’d changed. Just hours ago, we were happy fugitives, ready to explore this deeply magnetic force between us. He was all about kissing me when we were in the car. Now, things were different. Like, you know: meeting a blue skinned alien chick. Too much weird had happened. Also, Robert was finally free, safe from anyone capable of doing him any harm. And for however long he’d been out, this seemed to be the first time a sigh of relief could be taken. After all, he knew the one person sent to bring him back was now helping him stay away. Who better to keep him out of sight than the girl taking point on his hunting party? This, of course, placed him under suspicion for doing to me what his little brother did. I was Robert’s from the moment I saw him in my mother’s living room. Whole heart. Whole body. But as you recall, boys and girls, I was also Jake’s in that not so big, white room, just more in the Magdalenian sense, wishing to confess my sins and such.

Now? Things were becoming more cognitive than emotional, though Robert’s serenity and innocent disposition despite his age did evoke an element of affection in me, don’t catch me lying. The boy was a man, but the man was… magical. Those eyelashes alone got me hand-overh-heart.

 

 


Those eyelashes got me hand-over-heart. But still, love? It was absurd. How do you just fall in love with someone as a matter of national security? Yet, there I was. It all seemed too curious. Too planned. Love at first sight is real; don’t get me wrong. But here? Under these circumstances? Sorry. The chances are already slim to none. Usher in some pressing need for it, and everything goes out the window. For me? The chances were downright antithetical. I did this for a living. It didn’t get done to me. Unless, you count me doing it to myself, which let’s face it, I wouldn’t have gotten into this profession if I didn’t have something to prove. My worth, for one.

“Well,” I said, shooing him to the side, commandeering his spot to try the front-facing angle. “I suppose we should get to it, then.”

Everything was different.

Robert scooted to the other side, facing the tail end, giving me room to sit facing forward. Judging another stone’s weight, he tossed it behind him, still toward the front. It hovered, too, just like the last one, floated by me. And my jaw dropped in astonishment. Damn rock may as well have stopped to have coffee with me. Robert puffed in amusement. “Yeah.”

 

I looked at my clasped hands. Something didn’t add up, something that should’ve been obvious. “You know, I’m pretty smart…”

“I know you are.” He looked at me and smiled. “One of the reasons I picked you.”

Picked me. I’d gotten in front of the pageant judges again. And don’t say it was my doing. I know it was my doing. “Right, right,” I said. “You know everything about me. So, here’s the thing. One, you already know why I’m here.”

Robert looked up at the ceiling, then out toward the mountains. I noticed it, of course. Got my own skills.

“Two,” I continued, “You know the plan was to bring you back. Yet, look at us. You found me, which is exactly what everyone expected, or at least hoped you’d do. I mean, you’re practically allowing yourself to get caught, which we all know you don’t want. So that leaves only one conclusion.” I waited for him to confirm my hypothesis.

“You know,” Robert said, “intending to send me thoughts doesn’t make them reach me any easier. I know what you’re saying.”

I tried to give an accusatory look, but it didn’t work. “Yeah?” I asked, “What’s the conclusion, then?”

“The conclusion is you are right. I have other plans.”

I gestured for the world to give the man a prize. “Thank you,” I said, then my eyes peered left. “By the way, why am I—”

“—talking? Why aren’t you just thinking to me?”

“Yeah.” Robert finally looked at me and gently shook his head. “There’s so much more, Veronica.” [He’s seen the commission on finding The Prophet hailing the Second Coming]

Woah, I thought. Put the brakes on. Veronica? Is he looking into my… past? I glared at him, only to see an affectionate smile had emerged. Reading my thoughts in the present was one thing. Reading my memories? Whole other ballgame. That isn’t fair.

“Yes, it is,” Robert said. “It’s all fair. Nobody asked me if I wanted this, so I don’t have to ask either.”

I said, “I know what you just did. And don’t think we aren’t getting back to this whole ‘so much more’ bit.”

“What did I just do?”

“Make me think about my name. You get people to access their own memories by giving them prompts. So you can see the memories that surface. I read it in your file. Why? Why do that with me? I’m an open book to you. Ask me anything.”

Robert shrugged. “Habit.”

I found myself chewing on the inside of my lip. “Did you make me fall in love with you?” I asked, afraid for my feelings.

“No more than Jakey did.”

My heart sent a thick thump of blood into my throat and face and limbs. It almost hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Robert tossed another rock. I reached to him, kept him still. “Did you?” I asked.

Robert relaxed, and our eyes met. “I think the bigger question is how did you make me fall in love with you?”

“I didn’t,” I accused, my palms out in supplication. Robert gave me a coy look. “Oh yeah,” I muttered. It was the primary skill listed in my job description – Qualified Master of Seduction.

“From the start” Robert said, “I’d fallen in love with you, days before we met. I fell in love with you,”

[Some are more resistant than others, like your mom, Colonel Harvey. But that’s because their hearts have gotten stiff.” [self-absorbtion whether through guilt, fear, anger or greed]]

So confusing. “Before we met? I don’t’ understand. When?”

He blinked twice and breathed a deep sigh. “Jakey.”

“Your brother.”

“Remember how you wanted to tell him everything? About your dad leaving, the beauty pageants, losing your friends. The one who killed your friends..”

“You saw me,” I said. “Then.” My eyes went soft but not for long. A flashback came rushing in, slamming my face into that white room with Jake. My chin raised and lungs inflated full of air quickly converting to Co2. Once again, I was staring down at the boy, unable to lower my chin, unable to raise my eyes. The muscles in my neck framed my throat in a tightened V the bottom part curving into the edges of my collar bone, everything sunken in [sunk in?] But it was only a flashback. I blinked and shook it off. “You saw me through Jake’s eyes.” My breathing, it was fine. Now, my heart pumped and pumped blood everywhere. But this was different. The frightening bond I had with Robert’s little brother was far more intense than what I felt here. Here, I just wanted to bathe Robert’s presence. The loveliness of his demeanor, the majesty of his towering, chiseled frame. Still a kid in his own right, nineteen, to be exact. His body, no mistaking, had matured. Nothing drastic. Not at all. Just, you know, lean and filled out. You could see the edges and crevices of where his muscles began and ended. Mythic, one could say if they had the courage. This statue in jeans and a biker’s jacket.. His skin resembled an off-white marble, God help me.

God help me. Hey! I thought to me… or myself or Jack, The Tay-Tay, whoever –  as long as everyone was listening. Shape the fuck up! Pull it together, Roni! Remember who you are!

My name… I know my name. I know who I am.

Now move it!

“I saw into you. The person you are. How lonely, even though anyone would be your friend.” He looked down at his lap. “Or lover.” Fiddled with a rock. “The kindness, the fear, the sadness. I saw everything; Jakey can do that. So, looking through him, I was able to do it, too.” Looking back at me, his soft eyes blinked only once. “You’re like me.”

My head tilted. What, beautiful and lost?  I wished.

Robert nodded. “Beautiful and lost. And just like me, you want so much to be in the world. But you can’t. Got too much to do, government snatched you up, made you too important to become a regular part.”

A regular part? I thought.

“Of the world.”

“Mm-mm,” I hummed. “Not going to work.” I pointed at him. “I’m on to you.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a trickster. I see through your magic.” Standing up, I put my hands on my hips and said, “See, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter. This is my territory. I seduce people for a living.”

“I know,” Robert said.

“So, I’m on to you.”

He just looked at me. “Okay, you’re on to me.”

Crossing my arms, I tried rotating my torso. But that was just coping with the discomfort. So, time to write a new chapter in the trade craft. What shall we call it, my lovelies? Psychic Sorcery? Mind Beating? (No, sounds like masturbating). Mind Mastering? (Same thing. Come on, Roni!)

“Pink elephant? What are you doing?” Robert asked.

I gave him a coy smile. “Counterintelligence” (Dammit. Already taken.) “Can’t not think about a pink elephant when someone says don’t think of a pink elephant.” Pink elephant. Pink elephant. “Best you can do is…” Pink elephant with a tutu. A white tutu. And ballet slippers! “…remove yourself entirely. Close your ears. Distract yourself.” I straightened myself, and lifted my chin. “Tell me,” I said, keeping my focus. Pink elephant. Pink elephant. “Why do I go by Roni instead of Veronica?” Pink elephant. Come on. Come on. Pink elephant.

“It won’t last,” he said.

“Yes, it will,” I said, confidently. “I call bullshit. Tell me if you can. Why do I call myself Roni?”

“Veronica,” he repeated, accepting the challenge.

“Roni!!! I’M NOT THINK…PINK ELEPHANT! PINK ELEPHANT!”

“Ver… ronica.”

“One little, two little, three little ELEPHANTS! Four little, five little… You. Can’t. Read. Me.”

“Veronica.”

“I love my handsome elephant,” I said, closing my eyes. “He doth shade me with is admiring eyes…”

“Ver—”

“—nacular! Veridian! Green ELEPHANTS!”

“Ver—”

“—isimilitude! Verde! Very PINK! Very pink and green and yellow ochre ELEPHANTS! Verdy-verdy-smerdy bloompin-schtoompin.” Norwegian Muppets are always a good go-to, especially when you want your man to last longer.

“VERONICA!” he exclaimed, smiling and going from sitting to all fours, pulling one leg in to stand up.

“I’ve proven my point! You can’t read my memories-and-pink-elephants-with-stripes-made-of-grape-bubblegum! Verdy-ver-schmerdy-blerrdy-herdy-sha-sha-sha-schhhhhhTOOPIN! SchTOOPIN!” I started singing it. “Schtoop. Schtoop-de hoop. Hoop de-schtoop, and a-I’m gonna sing so ya can’t bust a Nutter-budder.” I danced in place, wiggling my hips, trailing my wrists up my sides, extending my hands in the air. Turning, I raised my jacket to show off my ass-sets. My specialty. “And a’left d’boop-boop, and a’right d’boop-boop. And a’mama-gonna-getta cookie-‘fore you. Do. And a—”

“ALRIGHT!” he laughed and rolled his eyes in mocking annoyance.

“Can’t do it?” I said, keeping my thoughts on Robert’s eyelashes. I sauntered over to him, placed my hand on his head, ran my fingers through his hair. “It’s a proven fact we ladies better at multitasking. Keep an eye on one thing, tend to another. What about keeping an eye on keeping an eye?” Thought I’d throw in some meta to keep him putting things together while my thoughts ran away into the bushes.

They were right. I was perfect for the job. It wasn’t just my powers of persuasion; it was the ability to deny my thoughts and urges, too. Me? I did this all the time on assignment, well, sans mind-reading. Or so I thought back then. Who knew if I didn’t have a little talent myself? I mean, isn’t that how channeling goes? Focus, match their energy, match their frequency, their song. Everybody has their own song, you know. Just like a song is it’s own string of moments laid out in shifts of sonic movements and mechanisms, so we are an individual orchestration of variations and vibrations, frequencies and inflections, tones, shades, nuances and modulations. They’re saying it more and more these days, when two or more gather and sync: they vibe. You think that doesn’t also qualify as on at least some level telepathy? Go ahead. Finish each other’s sentences. Order the same sandwich. Or better, order different sandwiches only to wind up with the other’s. Every moment that passed with Robert, I found myself wanting to match his energy. How easy it was to fall in sync with him.

Love? I ask you. In its most basic, most irreducible form, how could that not be love?

Robert almost leaned into my fingers as they coursed through his long, soft curls. He didn’t care anymore, couldn’t care. Yeah, like I said, things were different now. Now, he was in the real world. Now, he was with me. And yeah, if I were a telepath? I’d choose me, too.

“Whatever,” Robert said. It wasn’t fair.

“Not fair, huh,” I stated.

Robert closed his eyes. “Yeah, I don’t care.”

I sat down beside him—p’t-a’truk, p’t-a’truk—leaned against his shoulder, keeping my thoughts on him. His smell. How cute’n’vulnerable he was. Outside, the downpour had lightened to a drizzle, then stopped. The train travelled out of the storm into a wide-open space between the mountains, to a wide-open sky with slowly parting clouds. The air was cool and warm all at the same time, thick and refreshing, sad and wistful.

p’t-a’truk, went the metal beast.

p’t-a’truk… p’t-a’truk…

“Is it hard to do?” I asked, my fingers sliding from those curls as I sat back down next to him. We’d traveled, Robert and I, Me and my many others, literally down the tracks, knowing so little apart from our distant observations, learning so much in these minutes and miles and hours. “Connecting to someone? Finding them? Or does it happen naturally?” What was first an indescribable flinch into our connection, now had spread like the heated kettle pourings in a cold bath; you could actually see the warmth. Under normal circumstances, yes, it would take more time for that initial splash to spread into the comfort of our individual souls. But these were anything but normal circumstances. To love a telepath was to be warm and naked at the same time all the time and without a care as to how ugly or pretty you are – optics or otherwise.

“I don’t know,” Robert said more to himself, picking at the floor. “Both, maybe.”

“That’s about as vague an answer as one can get, little Bobby.” Without raising his head, Robert looked in front of him at nothing, the doorframe, maybe, the thoughts in his head. For the splittest second, I could see him checking his reality, dismissing the idea that I might be testing my own theory about variations of his own name. “Wanna put some meat on those bones?”

“No. I mean, yes. It’s hard to do. I’m not like Jake. He can pretty much do it without even trying. But it’s natural. Kind of like lifting weights. If you do it a lot, you grow stronger. But if you don’t keep going, your muscles get smaller.”

“They said you’re better at seeing from greater distances  right?”

“Mm-hm.” It was awkward, how natural it felt leaning against him.

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