Title: Tales from an Unknown Corner
Chapters: 09-10 (of 20)
Author: Dai_wakizashi
Universe: Tfauc
Summary:  Journey of a troubled young man looking for a path and 
people around him, who, at times, give shape to his journey.
Codes: MF, FF, MFF, oral, anal, toys, petting, romance, drama
Status: in progress
Revision: 2.0

Web Sites:
  ASSTR-  /~dai_wakizashi/
  SOL-        http://storiesonline.net/home.php
  EWP-       http://www.ewpub.org/ewpub.html

Discussion Forum:
   http://www.ewpub.org/messageboard/viewforum.php?f=76

*****************************************************************




              TALES FROM AN UNKNOWN CORNER  [Tfauc]



CHAPTER - 9: Home



The cab pulled next to the curb, and I stepped out, waiting for 
the driver to open the trunk. Picking up my suitcase, I paid him, 
and walked to the apartment complex. My parents had been living 
in one of the flats for the last ten years. It had been my home 
for many good years before I finally moved out, and it was still 
home--of some sort. I had my room here, since I didn't have a 
place of my own. I had planned to rent a small flat or buy into 
one of the new condos being built, but my parents pointed out 
that it would be a waste of money. Well, they had a point. At the 
rig-site, I had a cabin. When I had to spend a few days in the 
office, the company had accommodations available for the staff at 
the compound. On my off-duty time, I was traveling and staying at 
hotels or pensions in coastal towns. If I had rented or bought a 
place it wouldn't have been used much, unless I rented it out. 
Besides defeating the purpose in the first place, that would have 
brought another set of problems--dealing with tenants, taxes, 
contracts, etc.

Of course, there was another--unspoken--reason. My parents wanted 
me to be financially independent. They had hopes I would 
eventually quit that job and place, and move somewhere safer and 
more civilized. If I had committed myself to paying for one of 
the condos, I couldn't easily leave my current job. I could 
afford the mortgage with my current salary. However, if I had to 
get a job in my hometown or in another big city--even a good 
paying job--the salary wouldn't be anywhere near half of what I 
was currently making. What's more, I didn't want the company to 
shackle me with a golden chain. I had gone to great lengths to 
ensure the privacy of my financial affairs. Every month, I pulled 
most of my salary from the bank the company used, and transferred 
it to an account with a small, independent bank, where a friend 
of my sister worked. When I had to finance the purchase of my 
car, he helped out, ensuring that there wouldn't be any contact 
with the Company; they only asked for official copies of my 
salary slip and contract. When my sister heard what I did, she 
figured out my reasoning and accused me of being paranoid, but 
she had no idea how things worked in some companies; I had seen 
quite a few examples of arm-twisting and manipulation. I wasn't 
going to give anybody that kind of leverage over me. Maybe she 
was right, but I haven't forgotten what Musashi wrote 400 years 
ago, about how to exploit your opponent's weaknesses in a combat 
situation. I had taken those lessons to heart and knew they did 
apply to many modern situations.

Climbing the stairs with my suitcase in hand, I tried to compose 
myself. I felt somewhat light hearted and happy, for the first 
time, but I didn't want anybody to notice that, and ask 
unnecessary, uncomfortable questions. I wasn't ready to answer 
any more awkward questions than I had to. I knew they would be 
curious why I had to spend the very night I was back in town, 
away from home. They didn't need to know, and I could get away 
with a white lie. I didn't like resorting to a lie, so I usually 
ignored the questions I didn't want to answer. They rarely got 
insistent, but they still did sometimes, as if I was a 15 year 
old teen (forgetting the long standing understanding that if I 
was avoiding a question, then they would do well to steer clear 
off the subject, unless they were ready to accept a half truth or 
an unpleasant truth). There had been exceptions to the rule, of 
course, when we laid our cards on the table, but they had been 
few and far between.

Before I knocked, the door opened, and my sister stood at the 
entrance, with a smile on her face.

"It's Mitch," she shouted over her shoulder, informing my 
parents, before stepping aside to let me in.

I set my suitcase to the side, closed the door behind me, then 
hugged her.

"Hey, Sis. What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I was waiting for you," she replied.

When we parted, she gave me a quizzical look, and dropped a 
bombshell. "Did you change your aftershave?"

_Shiiit! Did I have Dana's perfume on me? Oooh, maaan! That's all 
I need now._

"Nope. It must be the new shampoo," I replied with a straight 
face.

She wasn't convinced, but before she could interrogate me, I 
steered us towards the living room. Mom was a bit misty eyed, 
especially when she noticed the white and gray stripe on my 
temples, but she didn't make any comments. She was happy to have 
me back, away from that 'God-forsaken place.' Dad was his usual 
quiet self, exchanging a quick greeting. They looked healthy, 
although Mom seemed to have more worry lines around the corner of 
her eyes. I didn't want to think about that, but when I saw my 
parents I always felt guilty about working in that part of the 
country against their wishes.

"We were expecting you last night, Mitchell," Mom said.

"Sorry. It was a last minute thing. I couldn't get away."

I noticed Sis was listening in with interest and I was afraid of 
what she might say. She usually kept her quips private; I guess 
it was something we both learned as young siblings, _them_ and 
_us_--the parents and the children. But on rare occasions, she 
would say something just to see me sweat. She was careful though, 
knowing a payback could be coming.

"Yeah. Mom said that you ran into an old friend... at the 
airport," my sister got into the conversation. Although she 
didn't ask, the question was there, and she expected an answer.

I shot a warning look at her, but she was enjoying herself. Her 
female radar had recorded an unidentified object, and she was 
curious to find out what it was she had stumbled upon.

When I didn't answer, she came back. "So, whom did you see?"

"Katherine Tanner!" Mom warned her.

_Thanks, Mom!_

"It's all right, Ma. She's being Kathy--as usual. If she didn't, 
I would be asking 'who's this stranger'," I retorted with a 
smile, trying to get my sister off the hook with Mom, while 
paying her back.

Kathy was properly admonished, but she wasn't going to give it up 
so easily. "Well, Bro, you better treat this strange girl nicely, 
or you may be sleeping on the street tonight."

"Katherine! You behave yourself this instant," Mom said, then 
turning on me, she warned me, too, "And you too. I will not have 
you two bickering like children." Then, with a more gentle tone, 
she added, "Mitch, we're having your room and your father's den 
painted, so most of your stuff has been moved to your sister's 
place. It was her suggestion." She gave Kathy a pointed look. 
"But, if she's changed her mind, we can make other arrangements."

At that, my sister shook her head. "No. I miss him. I want him to 
stay at my place. I was just teasing."

"Teasing him? You call being impolite and nosy... teasing?" Mom 
asked her, the amused expression taking the sting out of her 
words.

"Sorry, Mitch. I didn't mean anything," my sister said with a 
soft voice.

Taking a step, I gathered her in my arms. "I know, Kathy. I 
missed you, too."

She relaxed in my embrace, then whispered, "I like your new 
shampoo."

She was incorrigible, but that was Kathy. It was going to be an 
interesting couple of days with her. I wondered whether I would 
survive the experience. As I was contemplating the coming days, 
my stomach growled, making my sister laugh.

"You didn't eat anything?" she asked.

"I had a big breakfast."

Extracting herself from my embrace, she headed for the kitchen. 
"I'll whip up something for you."

"Mitch, you better go and help her out. Otherwise, you might die 
of food poisoning or something," Mom said loudly, making sure 
Kathy heard her.

"Maaaa!" Kathy exclaimed. "I'm a good cook. And if I weren't, it 
would be your fault. You taught me how," she retorted.

"I know, dear. I was just teasing," Mom replied, giving her a 
devilish smile.

"Teasing? Tarnishing my reputation is teasing?" my sister 
responded, trying to get back at Mom.

Before the two women could get into a protracted give and take, 
Dad interrupted them. "Mitch, son. You better get to the kitchen. 
Don't wait on these two cats."

_You're a brave man, Dad! Do you know what you're getting 
yourself into? If they turn on you, you're dead meat!_

"Your dad is right, Mitch. You better get yourself something in 
the kitchen. And you, young lady, if you want to be over my knee, 
I'll make the time. Just ask," Mom said with a grin.

Heh! That was a threat Kathy and I could both call. She never hit 
us throughout our childhood, but then, we never gave her cause to 
make true on her threats either.

"Well, Sis. What's it gonna be? Kitchen or..."

She shrugged with a wry grin, and headed for the kitchen, with me 
following behind her. I wasn't very hungry, despite the growling 
in my stomach, so we got busy making a salad and an omelet, while 
chatting. When she finished preparing the salad, she set a plate 
on the small kitchen table.

I didn't take too long to clean up my plate, while Sis watched me 
wolf down the food, rushing through lunch--a nasty habit I picked 
up at the college due to the short lunch breaks between classes, 
and later, continued at the rig. When I finished eating, Mom came 
in. Sis collected the dirty dishes, and placed them in the 
dishwasher, and we sat around the table. Mom was in a good mood 
and I guess she was happy to see both of us in the house, but I 
noticed she was perturbed about something. When I looked askance, 
she shook her head as if to say 'nothing,' but I knew she had 
something in her mind.

"Come on, Mom. What's on your mind?"

"You look tired, Mitchell. You're too young to have white in your 
hair. It's not in the family. That place is slowly killing you. 
When are you going to come back home, or move to someplace else?"

_Ma, when are you going to stop asking the same questions? I 
don't have the answers. When I have them, you'll be the first to 
know._

I looked at Kathy to see if she would come to my aid, but either 
she was told not to or she didn't want to get pulled into this 
one, so she averted her eyes.

"Don't look at her, Mitchell. She's as worried as we are. You 
think she doesn't think about you every time she watches the news 
at night?"

"Please. I'm not going to get drawn into a discussion. It's a 
closed issue. Don't believe everything you see on TV or read in 
the newspapers. It's not that bad at all. Do you really believe I 
would stay there if it was as dangerous as you think? Give me 
some credit, will you?" I said, trying hard not to be 
argumentative.

"I don't know what to believe! But I know what I see. That place 
is wearing you down."

"Sometimes it gets too busy, and I don't get enough sleep. I 
haven't had much sleep in the last two days, and last night I had 
a few drinks. That's why I look like the way I do. You've seen 
Kathy in the same condition, when she pulls a 36-40 hour shift in 
the emergency ward. She does that more regularly than I do. So, 
what's the difference? I tell you. There's no difference. None at 
all," I retorted with a tired sigh.

"I get a day off after those long shifts, and I don't spend my 
time out in the open, like you do. Two months ago, they reported 
53 C in the shade and regularly upper 40s for the region. Last 
year, you had -20 C for several days in December. You spend most 
of your time outside, exposed to the elements. Your hours are 
irregular," Kathy said.

_You too, Sis? What is this? I just arrived and I'm already being 
grilled. This discussion was settled almost a year ago. I'm not 
going to rehash it!_

"That's why I get several weeks of off-duty time. To recuperate. 
Like all other people who work on the rig. Most of them spend 
more time out in the open than I do. They have been working in 
different countries, in different climates for years. I didn't 
see anybody dying from hard work," I replied, with a low, 
controlled tone.

This was trying my patience, especially because it had been a 
long time since we had a similar discussion. When I took a moment 
to reflect on it, I realized there was one notable difference 
between this and previous ones--I wasn't angry or even irritated. 
I was ticked off, a bit, and my patience was slowly running out, 
but I didn't feel any anger or even resentment at being pulled 
into the same subject, taking it in stride.

_What has changed? Was it Dana?_

My mind was busy with that question and I almost missed the 
signal between Kathy and Mom. Mom was going to say something, but 
I saw Sis shake her head 'don't.' Kathy was watching me 
carefully, and I felt like I was under an electron microscope.

_Does she suspect something?_

I learned early on to never underestimate her.

_I hope the next couple of days aren't going to be a trial._

Sometimes, Kathy didn't know when to stop, and I wasn't ready to 
talk. Well, I hadn't talked with Kathy about anything in the last 
few years. I knew I clammed up pretty hard every time she had 
tried to probe, and on a few occasions I had to remind her to 
mind her own business. I knew it wasn't a nice thing to say to my 
sister, but siblings or not, I didn't appreciate any intrusion to 
my personal life and what I considered my private affairs. I had 
been somewhat distant, not only because of what happened in the 
past, but for other reasons as well.

Kathy and my parents thought my decision was based solely on 
getting over my wounds, and, I believe, they didn't realize I 
didn't want them to see me struggle every day. I was still 
struggling, but it had gotten better--except yesterday! I also 
needed the space; my personal, private space, without intrusions. 
I wouldn't have that while trying to work a regular job, with 
regular hours, and regular people who had certain expectations 
(especially social expectations). I would have drawn unnecessary 
attention, and I knew I didn't need. It was bound to get me a bad 
reputation, if not into trouble with people.

I didn't want the people who knew me (including my family) to 
witness what I was going through. 'Far from the eyes, far from 
the heart.' That might not always apply to family--my family--but 
it did to a certain degree. I had moved into a protective shell, 
and letting them witness my daily struggles would just add to the 
feelings of guilt. It would have been impossible to maintain an 
appearance of normalcy in an office. And, since I didn't fit into 
a regular world, I had my doubts about holding a regular job for 
more than a few months. That would have been another blow, 
another worry for them. They were used to seeing me succeed, and 
seeing me switch or lose jobs, or being a misfit, would have torn 
them worse than their current worries.

_It's not that they wouldn't understand my reasons. I'm pretty 
sure they would have. I know they would still love me if I had 
failed, but it would have destroyed me for sure. I know what I 
am. I'm too proud and stubborn. I wouldn't, couldn't settle for 
failure. If I had stayed and found a job here, I was destined to 
fail. I'm sure of it. I didn't fit in then, and I still don't. 
That day may come. Perhaps, sooner than I expect, but it's too 
early to talk about it and get their hopes up._

Changing the subject, Mom asked about my plans for my vacation, 
but before I could get a word in, Kathy cut in. "You're taking me 
out to dinner tonight, Bro. Some place nice."

"Sure. Wherever you want," I replied, my attention still on Mom.

"Close your mouth, dear," Mom said to Kathy, who was staring at 
me with a gaping mouth.

She sputtered, then asked, "You... You're not going to argue?"

"Kathy, I always enjoyed taking you out. I only argued when our 
schedules didn't match, or you had those annoying friends of 
yours tagging along. You know I don't care for some of them, and 
yet, you insist."

"Why? All of the girls are nice, and the guys behave themselves," 
she replied, with a defensive tone.

_Shit. I don't want to get into this in front of Mom. Why don't 
you zip it up?_

"Some of those girls are too _nice_," I replied, pointedly.

Sensing trouble brewing, Mom interrupted us. "Mitchell, that's 
not a nice thing to say about anybody, let alone those girls."

"They are shopping for a boyfriend, and worse, yet, some of them 
are shopping for a husband. I'm not shopping for a girlfriend or 
a wife. I have no interest in them, and they don't take a hint. 
And, that's all I'm going to _say_, on this subject," I replied 
with deliberation, my tone making it clear I would not tolerate 
further discussion.

"Moving on to your question," I said, swiftly changing the 
subject. "I don't have any specific plans. I need to get the car 
to the garage for a check-up. Then I'll head for the coast. There 
are some towns I want to visit. I really liked one place last 
time, so I might spend most of my time there, exploring."

Kathy broke in with another question. "Sarah is having a party on 
Saturday. You'll come, won't you?"

_You're insistent, Sis. Never give up trying. I'll give you that, 
but neither do I. You should know that._

Sarah was her best friend, and a girl I had known since we were 
kids. She was a very nice girl, not one of the sharks who made my 
hair stand on end when I had to socialize. It'd been several 
years since I had seen her, and what I remembered was a girl with 
whitish blonde hair, gray eyes, and a slightly chubby body. But, 
she had the voice of an angel and played the guitar like a 
virtuoso. In junior high, she and my sister had started taking 
guitar lessons, and Sarah turned out to be exceptionally gifted. 
Not only was she good at playing the guitar, but she had a voice.

_Man, did she sing! Angels must have been listening to her 
crystal clear voice in the heavens, every time she sang._

Many times, I had found myself taking a break from my studies 
just to listen to their practice sessions next door in my 
sister's room, relaxing to her voice.

_Fond memories, indeed._

"Sarah... How's she doing?"

"She works in Orthopedics at the other hospital, but we get 
together whenever we can. She still plays the guitar and sings. I 
hope you haven't forgotten that."

"No way I could forget that voice. I always thought she would 
quit school and turn professional, being a singer. I remember her 
having problems in med school."

"She did. Repeated a year. She wanted to go professional, but her 
parents and I talked some sense into her."

"She didn't resent it?"

"No. She's happy she continued with her studies. She still has 
time for music, and she could still try singing professionally, 
if she wanted to. But I guess, she didn't want it that badly. 
When did you see her last?" she asked.

"Ummm... I don't know... five, six years ago... Why?"

Instead of answering me, she gave me a smile filled with 
mischief, making me uneasy.

"What exactly are you cooking up, Sis?" I asked, apprehensive 
about what she might be planning to spring on me. She always 
managed to find a way to catch me unprepared. Although her 
surprises had been pleasant enough--more often than I cared to 
admit--there had also been many occasions when they had annoyed 
the hell out of me.

"Ohh... nothing, really," she replied casually. It was too casual 
for my liking, and seeing I was getting antsy, she hastily said, 
"Don't get your knickers in a tw--"

"For your information, I don't wear ladies underwear!" I cut her 
off.

"OK! Don't get your pants in a twist! It's really nothing. She's 
just... changed..." she replied with a teasing smile.

"Changed?" I repeated her words with a smirk. I found it hard not 
to suspect her motives, after her casual remark.

"You'll see when we go," she responded cryptically.

_Hell, no! I'm not going to be suckered into anything. I know you 
Sis. I know how devious your mind can be..._

Giving her a teasing smile, I said, "Well, that could be 
difficult... I'm not sure if I can make the party."

Her face fell at that, because she knew that she couldn't cajole 
me in any way to go to a party, even if it was Sarah's; not after 
what I had said about the other girls, and knowing that there 
bound to be a few of them attending the same party.

"You know, you can be a real spoil sport, Bro. But I'm being 
polite. I won't say that you're being a sourpuss."

Mom caught her breath at that quip, but instead of admonishing 
her, she took her side. "She's right, Mitchell. You are being a 
rat about the whole thing."

"I didn't say I wouldn't go. I said, I might not make it," I 
retorted.

I wanted to know what she was planning. I didn't like being 
caught unprepared or suckered into something I would dislike. 
Kathy immediately recognized the opportunity, but was reluctant 
to come out with whatever she had up her sleeve. In the end, she 
gave up the pretense, and said, "Sarah turned into a babe, 
Mitchell. You would hardly recognize her."

"Sarah? A babe?"

She had always been a good looking girl, but nothing special. The 
girl-next-door kind of good looking, except her voice. She had 
been a bit pudgy at the time, so I had difficulty imagining her 
as a babe.

Mom said, "Sarah is not really a babe."

That made more sense, so I looked askance at my sis, wondering 
what she was up to, when Mom added, "She's a blonde bombshell."

_Sheeesshh! What the hell's going on? Babe! Blonde bombshell! 
Sarah is turned into a blonde bombshell. You're joking, right?_

When I looked at Mom, she was grinning from ear to ear, smug with 
the knowledge that she had managed to shake me up. Seeing I 
wasn't convinced, she nodded, confirming my suspicions.

_Uhh... OK! I'll take your word for it. So... what's going on? 
What are you two up--_

_Ooh, no! No way! You two aren't playing matchmaker, are you?_

"I don't think I like what I think you two are cooking up," I 
said.

"We aren't cooking up anything, Mitch. You need to get out, and 
this is as good an occasion for it as any," Kathy said, with Mom 
nodding her agreement.

"Just hold it there! If you haven't heard it yet, or didn't 
realize it up to now, let me put it clearly. I'm not interested 
in going out with any one," I said softly, but making it clear I 
wasn't going to allow any interference with my personal life.

"Mitch, come on. It's just a party. Sarah likes you, and no, not 
like that; she has a boyfriend. You've known each other since we 
were kids. You like her. She even promised to sing, and keep the 
_girls_ away from you. It will be fun, and you'll enjoy it. I 
don't have an escort, and I don't want to go there alone. There 
are no hidden agendas, OK?"

"I find that hard to believe, Sis. No offense intended, but I 
know how your mind works," I replied, still not convinced.

"You make your own decisions. Nobody will force you to date 
Sarah, or any other girl. Everybody knows you always do what you 
want, and I know it would be pointless to suggest anything. So, 
what are you afraid of? What's your problem? Don't tell me you're 
scared of seeing Sarah?" Kathy asked, successfully cornering me 
with her logic.

_You're some piece of work, Sis. I'm glad you didn't get to be a 
lawyer, and I pity the guy that marries you._

I gave her an appraising look, trying to see what else she would 
be springing on me, but she returned my gaze with the same 
appraising look. She had a self satisfied smile on her lips, and 
I didn't think it was related to winning the argument. No, this 
was something else, and that made me wonder. I went through the 
short exchange trying to see what else was hidden that would make 
her react like that. I got the feeling she had engineered the 
whole discussion. The party at Sarah's place, the whole thing 
about how Sarah had changed were interesting revelations and 
caught me by surprise, but why would Kathy open up the subject to 
raise my suspicions, almost inviting a confrontation? She didn't 
invite a confrontation, she directed us right into the 
confrontation about my personal life and affairs, knowing full 
well how I would react, and then, successfully cornered me with 
her logic. What would she gain by irritating me, except the 
possibility that I would refuse to go to a party she wanted to go 
to?

I took out my pack and lit a cigarette, while paying attention to 
her as surreptitiously as I could. She knew what I was doing, and 
wasn't bothered. In fact, she seemed to be enjoying herself, and 
didn't hide it.

_Damn, Kathy! You pulled one over me, and feel real smug about 
it, don't you?_

When I looked at her I could see her eyes were laughing at me. I 
gave her a small smile, with a warning look that hinted at a 
payback she wouldn't like, but she nonchalantly shrugged it off. 
She knew I wouldn't be a real bad ass about it; it was an empty 
threat. We used to parry like that a lot when we were kids, 
enjoying the battle of wits.

_Well, let's see how good you're at strategy, Kathy._

"Saturday... what time is the party?" I asked, as if I had given 
up, and feigning interest.

"So, you're going?" she asked suddenly enthusiastic, without 
realizing that she had just walked into my hand.

I didn't answer, but kept smiling, and she realized her mistake. 
Once her smug smile faded, I said, "I didn't say that, yet, did 
I? I need to know the time, to see if I could make it."

"_What_!!! You have a _prior_ engagement?" she retorted snootily.

"Let's say, I have plans, and I need to know if I have to shuffle 
my schedule."

"You're being a _rat_, Mitch, and you know it," she replied 
indignantly.

Just then, Mom stood up, and smiling at both of us, she said, 
"You two take it easy! Don't break anything. I'm not going to 
clean up your mess." Mom used to say that when we were younger 
and involved in battles like this.

Finally, we were alone in the kitchen, and I wondered who would 
surrender first. I knew Kathy would stick to her guns, as I 
would. I was planning to take her to the party, but I was curious 
about why she had engineered the previous exchange. I decided to 
lay my cards on the table and see where it would take me.

"Kathy, I'll take you to the party."

"And?"

"And? What do you mean, 'and'?" I asked.

"You have something up your sleeve, Bro. Out with it," she 
responded hotly, with a suspicious tone.

"I don't have anything up my sleeve. And if I did, why should I 
tell you?"

She mulled something in her mind, then asked, "What's on your 
mind, Mitch?"

"How about a little bit of _quid pro quo_?" I replied.

"On what?" she asked.

"OK, Sis. Here's the deal. I won't pay you back for the stunt you 
just pulled. In fact, I won't pay you back for any of the stunts 
you pulled today, starting with your quip about who I saw in the 
airport, and including all the singing and dancing about Sarah. 
I'm just curious about what you were really trying to accomplish 
with that little confrontation a few minutes ago."

Then, thinking over the whole quid pro quo thing, I decided to be 
even more generous. This was Kathy, after all, and the issue was 
minor, so I said, "I've changed my mind. For what it's worth, I'm 
not even going to hold you up to the _quid pro quo_. Rest easy, 
I'm not going to pay you back for anything , whether you explain 
what you were up to or not."

She got up from her chair, and stood by my side, then leaning, 
she hugged me, whispering, "I love you, Mitch. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Sis. But, sometimes you drive me crazy," I 
retorted.

"That's what sisters are for," she came back with a laugh.

"I guess. I should have asked Mom and Dad for a brother instead 
of a sister."

That quip earned me an elbow, making me grunt. She could get 
heavy handed at times, and this was one of them. "Jeez, Sis. Take 
it easy. No wonder the guys are scared of you."

_Oh, shit! Now she'll rip my head off._

Luckily, she let that pass, and returned to her chair.

"So you're curious about what happened?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "As I said... I won't die if you want to 
keep it to yourself."

"Well, I have one word for you." She paused, waiting to see if 
she would draw a reaction from me. When I didn't respond, she 
continued. "Shampoo. Your new shampoo," she said, as if that 
explained all.

"My shampoo? What about my shampoo?" I asked, feigning 
puzzlement. I knew what she was getting at, but I wasn't going to 
confirm her suspicions.

"Come on, Mitch. I know what I smelled."

"Oh, really! Say, if I was sitting in a taxi for half an hour, 
which smelled like the prior occupant had broken a bottle of 
powerful perfume, you would assume I had been with a woman? Or 
because I didn't want to talk about the person I met in the 
airport--by the way, you don't know many of my high school 
friends--that person automatically becomes a _she_ with whom I'm 
having a secret affair? Interesting deductive technique, Sis. 
Warped, but interesting," I retorted with a smug smile.

That gave her a pause, but it was short lived.

"So, why did you say it was your shampoo, instead of explaining 
about the smelly taxi? I don't buy it, Bro."

"Believe what you will. You think I picked up somebody at the 
airport? Hmmm... I must be getting my old charm back in a hurry. 
Good, I can use some of that old charm at the party."

She knew I didn't have girl friends, especially in the last 
couple of years. She suspected I had a few short-lived flings and 
considering the fact that I wasn't a monk, she expected them, but 
she also knew they had been too infrequent for a guy my age. Even 
before all that, I wasn't much of a success with girls, so my 
last delivery gave her food for thought, so much so that her face 
fell. She remembered why I was away from home. I felt guilty 
making her feel bad, but more so because I had lied. Well, not 
exactly lied, but I had misrepresented partial truths, letting 
her draw her own conclusions. Of course I had met an old friend, 
and one that she knew--my nemesis--although we haven't gone to 
the same school, so that was definitely a misrepresentation. And, 
I didn't pick up Dana, she picked me up, so that wasn't much of a 
misrepresentation. I didn't know how I could justify my actions, 
even though she had no business nosing around my private affairs, 
but... She was my sister.

_Where do I draw the line? If I told her to mind her own 
business, I would be continuously fending off her probing. She 
would eventually succeed, unless I took stern measures, but then, 
that would mean hurting her feelings. She loves me, and she just 
doesn't take 'no' as an answer._

_I'm not going to hurt you, Kathy. I hurt enough people. 
Yesterday, 'her,' then this morning, Dana, and now..._

"Sis? It's OK!" I said softly.

She shook her head.

"Kathy!" I raised my voice trying to shake her up, and succeeding 
in getting her attention, I said, "I need your promise on 
something."

"What?"

"I need you to promise me something."

"What do I have to promise, Mitch?" she asked, curious and 
apprehensive at the same time.

"Nothing big or bad. I just want you to promise not to ask 
questions about what I'm going to tell you."

"You're scaring me, Mitch. I can't make a promise like that."

"Come on, Kathy. You don't trust me? It's nothing big or serious, 
but I don't want you bothering me with a lot of questions. You 
have to settle for what I'm going to tell you. Nothing more, 
nothing less."

She might have been unsettled, but her mind was still sharp, so 
she went for the jugular. "This is about yesterday, and your 
friend, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Now, do I have your promise?"

"No, you don't. Eventually, you'll give it up," she retorted.

_Jeez, Kathy. Grow up, will you? I'm not going to put up with 
that._

"I think, I better stay here or get a room in a hotel," I 
replied.

"What are you hiding, Mitchell? You wouldn't go to such lengths, 
if it wasn't someth-- Oh, my God! You rat bastard! I was right. 
You lied to me, you little shit! And I was sitting here feeling 
sorry about you. How could you? I'm your sister!"

"Then, please, act like one, Kathy. And grow up, will you? I told 
you countless times not to nose into my affairs. Do I bother you 
about your boyfriends, or nose into your private affairs? No, I 
don't. When are you going to learn there are some boundaries, 
Sis?" I said softly, trying to reason with her, instead of using 
an admonishing tone. I was surprised at myself, and how calmly I 
delivered those words. If this had been happening a year or two 
ago, my tone would have been colored by irritation, if not filled 
with resentment.

Kathy didn't respond immediately, but kept her gaze on me 
scrutinizing me carefully. After several minutes, she said, "I 
know I deserve some of the things you said, but I don't think I 
deserved that line about staying here or in a hotel. I am your 
sister, Mitchell. Do you really feel like that? You're never 
around, and you've grown distant over the last several years. Do 
I deserve that? Do Mom and Dad deserve that?"

"Katherine, don't try the guilt trip on me," I replied, reverting 
to a formal tone, despite my best intentions. Collecting myself, 
I tried again, this time with a gentler tone. "We are not kids 
anymore. I have my own life, and you have yours. That's a fact of 
life. Just because I'm away doesn't mean I love you less. You 
left home before I did. I wasn't the one who went to boarding 
school at fifteen. You were the one who came home only during the 
weekends, holidays and vacation periods. You were the one who 
came back changed at an early age. Did I love you less for it, 
because you were away? Did I make an issue of it?"

I took a deep breath, and added, "I didn't even leave home for 
college, Kathy, because the local college had the best 
engineering branch in the whole country. You think I've changed 
in the last few years? I changed when I was a sophomore, and had 
to do my first industry training at the rig. I tasted freedom for 
a mere six weeks, but it was enough, I enjoyed it. I didn't 
particularly like the desert, but I was looking forward to going 
there again, after graduation. After my junior year, after the 
second industry practice, I was sure of it. What happened during 
the later part of that summer, had very little to do with my 
decision. Well, to a certain extent. I'm not going to get into 
the details. The point is I was going to go away from home."

"I'm not talking about your decision. I'm talking about how you 
grew distant," Kathy said.

"Come on, Kathy. You weren't the same when you came back from 
boarding school. We were suddenly distant. That's what happens. 
You had your peers, I had mine. Does that mean I loved you less, 
or you loved me less?"

She got thoughtful at that. "Yes, we were distant... to a certain 
degree... but..."

"But what, Kathy?"

"But I never shut anybody out of my life. You shunned everybody. 
Mom, Dad, me, your friends. You don't talk.

"Oh, come on. You're exaggerating the whole thing."

"Mitchell, that's enough bullshit. Are you blind... or in denial? 
You and Mom used to sit up late at night, talking till the wee 
hours of the morning. How do I know? Because, Mom told me. You 
used to laugh... a lot... when watching something on TV. You used 
to tell jokes. Now, not anymore. You never socialized much, but 
used to spend some time with friends. Now, you just take 
vacations by yourself. Tell me if I'm wrong."

"What do you want me to say, Kathy?"

"I want you to--"

"I'm not going to talk about it. Let's get that straight and out 
of the way. I don't feel like talking about some things. There is 
no way in hell anybody or anything that can or that will make me 
talk about things I don't want to discuss. Is that clear?"

When she didn't reply, I forced myself to relax, before I 
repeated my question. "Is that clear?"

She didn't reply, but was watching me carefully. Finally, 
breaking the silence, she said, "Tell me something, Mitch. Are 
you using your training, now?"

That non sequitur threw me for a loop.

"What?"

"Are you using your training? You know, the stuff that you used 
to practice? Something like meditation... the sinking into... I 
don't know what you used to call... the depth or something... the 
thing you explained you were using when practicing with your 
swords?"

"The Void?"

"Yeah, the void. Are you using that, now?"

"No. Why should I? I haven't used it for a long time, and my 
swords are here. I haven't touched them since... well... for 
quite some time."

"You don't practice anymore?" she blurted. It was obvious, she 
hadn't expected my answer.

"I practice Tai Chi. I haven't practiced anything else for quite 
some time. Why?"

"Nothing. I didn't expect you to quit your practice. On the 
previous subject, yes, we are clear," she said. "But that doesn't 
mean you're scot-free. I haven't made any promises."

"If that's the way it's going to be," I said with a shrug I 
didn't feel.

"You're still staying at my place, Bro."

"Now, you're dictating terms to me?" I asked, more amused than 
irritated. If this had happened a year or more ago...

She didn't answer, but kept watching me, searching my face, and I 
could see her mind was busy with something. Then with a chuckle, 
she said, "My, my, my... Whoever she is, I want to meet her... 
one day."

Her comment took me by surprise, making me realize how ill-
equipped I had been to deal with Kathy.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, putting all my acting 
abilities to put the right tone of puzzlement in my voice.

"You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about, or rather, _whom_ I'm 
talking about. She must be something... How long have you known 
her?" she asked, going straight for the kill.

"Kathy, I told you a minute ago. You have to know when to leave 
the table, while you're still ahead. So, back off. You know I 
don't like to repeat myself."

I wasn't pissed at all, and I should have been. Somehow I found 
myself rather enjoying her efforts, and fending off her 
attention. It reminded me of earlier years, when we were kids. I 
missed her sharp mind. But, still, I wasn't ready to talk about 
my private affairs. At least I was enjoying this sibling battle, 
instead of resenting her. She was, after all, being Kathy.

"For the time being, Mitch... for the time being... I can wait. 
For what it's worth, she's good for you. I can see that. You may 
not have realized it, but I haven't seen you so calm for a long 
time, even when I was getting on your nerves. You have to decide 
where you want to stay. Don't worry, I'll give you your space and 
won't bother you anymore," she said. Then with a wicked grin, she 
added, "Not any more than I have to, that is. I'd rather have you 
at my place, but it's up to you."

_Do I want to stay at your place? Tough question. I don't want to 
be put through the grinder again, Kathy. I love you, but you try 
my patience. I hope I won't hurt your feelings, if you keep it up 
too long._

I knew she wanted me at her place, and I missed her as much as 
she missed me. In the end, it wasn't hard to decide. She still 
had to go to school and work, so even if she wanted to grill me 
she wouldn't have much time to do it, and I doubted she would 
attempt something like this anytime soon. What's more, I wanted 
to make her happy.

"Sure, Sis. I'll stay at your place. No problems."

"Thank you, Mitch."

"You're welcome," I replied with a patronizing tone, but she knew 
I was teasing her, so she didn't rise to the bait.

"So, what's the plan, Bro? What do you want to do?"

"I'd like to take a short nap. I'm pretty tired from the last few 
days. Then we'll see how it goes. Are you working tomorrow?"

"Nope, I'm off duty until Monday. A few of the girls owed me 
time, so we switched and shuffled the shifts."

_Isn't that just great!!!_

I quickly chased that thought away. She had gone to great lengths 
to be with me and here I was acting unappreciative.

"Tomorrow I need to go to the garage, and that would probably 
take several hours, perhaps half a day. I'm afraid, you'd be 
wasting your off duty time."

"Can't you just leave the car, and then pick it up when it's 
ready?"

"I want to be there when they go over it. I want to make sure 
they do it properly."

"Sometimes you go overboard, Mitch. Don't you ever trust people?"

"Let me tell you something, Sis. If I had to let our rig mechanic 
check my car, I could easily trust him, because I know him and 
how thorough he is. I don't know the guys in the garage. I can't 
assume they'll do a good job. Say, one of the guys didn't check 
the brake pads and replace the worn out ones, and I had to brake 
hard, what do you think would happen? Working on the rig-site I 
have learned never to assume anything. We even have a good saying 
about that particular habit: 'Assumptions are the mother of all 
fuck ups'."

"You're such a control freak."

"Just because I'm being cautious? Whatever you say, Sis."

She shrugged it off, and said, "We'd better get moving then."

"What about Mom and Dad?"

"We'll be having dinner here, tomorrow night, and I think Mom 
would appreciate if you could get here early in the afternoon."

I nodded my agreement.

We said our goodbyes to Mom--Dad was asleep--and left for Kathy's 
place, in her car.



* * * * *







CHAPTER - 10: Siblings



Kathy had a nice, small, two-bedroom flat, not too far from where 
my parents lived. Although the place was small, especially the 
living room, which included a modern kitchen in one corner, she 
managed to make it look bigger that it was.

I hadn't seen it for quite some time, and the few occasions I 
dropped by were just to take her out to some place. I had a late 
brunch or lunch with her a few times, but I hadn't paid much 
attention to her place, and what she had done with it. Now, 
because I was going to spend some time here, I was curious how it 
looked like, and what changes she had made.

I still remembered the time when my parents and I had to help her 
to make the move, two years ago. Mom and Kathy had spent several 
days during a short break Kathy had from her studies, visiting 
second hand stores for some good quality furniture, and making 
the arrangements for delivery, while Dad and I had spent a few 
days, going through the flat, fixing things like electrical 
wiring and fittings, window insulation, and any other simple 
things we could fix. We also had compiled a list of items that 
would require an electrician, a carpenter and a plumber to fix, 
and then waited on the guys while they did their job.

To tell the truth I wasn't much of a handy man, never had been 
one, but I had learned some things on the rig, especially about 
electrical safety and some plumbing, so when I saw what the 
electrician was doing--the one we called from a nearby shop in 
the neighborhood--I got into an argument with him. I had a copy 
of the building code in my hand and saw him using the wrong rated 
cable to replace the existing but damaged wiring. When Dad 
realized what was happening, he ran him off. Quite many of the 
electricians, plumbers and carpenters learned their craft as 
apprentices, but the whole apprenticeship was very flawed--the 
education system wasn't much of a help also, without proper 
control mechanisms in place--and, with many of the the guys 
lacking some necessary education in science and math, and worse, 
lacking an interest in their craft, it was always a very 
difficult proposition to find a good, and reliable electrician or 
a plumber. That is not to say there weren't qualified people, 
like high school or college graduates, but the ones that actually 
did the work were only skilled for manual work, and the college 
graduates were more of the engineer type who weren't inclined to 
get their hands dirty doing the menial work, but supervise the 
ones that did the menial work. But, there were many small shops 
that were sort of a jack-of-all-tades kind, and did a lot of 
repairs, fixes from electricity to plumbing to carpentry, and the 
quality varied a lot. The worst part of the whole deal was, of 
course, the quick-and-dirty fixes they came up with during a job. 
For example, they would use a size smaller cable not rated for 
the job, if they ran out of the required cable when they were 
doing the wiring, not giving a second thought to the possibility 
of an electrical fire hazard. If I hadn't seen how things were 
done by our electrician at the rig site, and learned things from 
him, I wouldn't be aware of such problems. Not only that, but in 
the first place, he should have known his stuff and done it 
properly--as naïve as that sounds--but such was the situation, 
and if you didn't take precautions and had no idea what they were 
doing, you could easily get screwed, major time! So, in the end, 
I went through the _Yellow Pages_, looking for a good 
electrician, instead of the local quick-fix type of shops in the 
neighborhood. I found a couple, but when I heard their prices, 
Dad and I knew we had to do some work ourselves. Dad managed to 
convince one of them to send a guy in to check the situation and 
make us a list of what is needed, and then we would try to do 
parts we could, and give the rest of the work to them. It worked 
perfectly, and I remember how proud Dad was, when the electrician 
came to do their part, and inspecting my work, gave a more than a 
passing note. I guess, it was because Dad was worse than me as a 
handy man. He could do some carpentry(!)--read, could nail two 
wooden planks--and fix some simple plumbing problems, and that 
was the extent of his abilities. Well, that was to be expected, 
as he was a white-collar; having been a desk jockey most of his 
life. I was supposed to be a white-collar, too, but ended up 
being something of a white- and blue-collar.

After all the work was done, we helped the women folk to clean 
the house. Then, while they got busy buying and fixing curtains 
and other necessary stuff, Dad and I did the painting, something 
which we both were very accustomed to, after moving from one 
rental place to another several times over the years. And since 
Mom and Kathy weren't around, we could get it done without any 
interference from them. I guess we both had fun, and surely, 
without the distraction of comments like: "Be careful. You're 
dripping paint there!" or "This part requires another coat!" and 
similar, we finished the job in record time. Afterwards, we had 
to clean up a few spots, but there weren't many spills or paint 
drops. I remember Dad and I sharing a look and bursting into 
laughter; we both were thinking whether the presence of the women 
during the previous times was what jinxed the painting jobs.

Finally, the day arrived for the move, and we packed Kathy's 
stuff, and got it moved to her flat, and during the day, the 
other deliveries, such as the furniture from various stores 
arrived. Dad and I made several trips back and forth to get some 
of the delicate stuff like TV, stereo, and glassware, not 
trusting a moving company to be careful with the stuff. It wasn't 
a long distance, and required only a few trips from my parents' 
place to Kathy's flat. In a few hours we finished the whole move. 
By evening time, Dad and I finished assembling the bookshelves, 
the bed, the wardrobe, while the women got the kitchen in order, 
unpacking the glassware and other stuff. Just before dinner time, 
we had the living room also sorted out, the furniture placed as 
required, and then Dad and I went out to get two big pizzas and a 
bottle of red wine to celebrate. After dinner , at Mom's urging 
we didn't hang around but left; she knew Kathy was anxious to 
have the place to herself for the first time in her life. Next 
day, I was on the road for my vacation. When I returned, I saw 
Kathy before taking my flight, and she told me about her first 
night in her flat; she had been up all night long, sitting in the 
living room, reading and listening to music, finally going to bed 
around four in the morning, tired, but happy. I could sympathize 
with the feeling.

I looked around to see if she made any changes, but it looked the 
same. There were few additions; a couple of small low tables next 
to the couches, and a sturdy low table for the TV and the stereo 
which used to sit on the floor, a sit-sack, and some new pictures 
on the walls. I remember the time Kathy and I shopped for some 
pictures and posters, and framing them at home before hanging 
them on the walls. _The Scripps Pier_ by Ansel Adams--my choice 
which Kathy loved--and a few more reproductions of his scenic 
photos occupied the main wall behind the big couch. By the side 
of the window were small sized pictures, mostly the works of Kim 
Anderson, which I thought were really girly-girl kind of 
pictures, especially Kathy's favorite, _The First Kiss_, but I 
knew why she had chosen it. Dad had taken a picture of us when we 
were about three or four years old, that depicted us in a similar 
pose--I didn't have a rose in my hand, but I was kissing Kathy on 
the cheek. Her new additions to the collection were a bunch of 
medium size pictures of smoke filled rooms and Jazz Musicians, 
occupying an empty spot on the wall, above the stereo. I wasn't 
sure if she had chosen them for the mood the pictures depicted, 
rather than an actual interest in Jazz music, but Kathy was 
always full of surprises--and I wasn't stupid enough to bet 
either way!

I took my suitcase to the spare bedroom. I recognized her old 
bed. It used to be in her bedroom, but it looked like she had 
changed the bed in the master bedroom, and put her old bed here. 
Above the bed, on the wall, was a picture that I knew very well; 
one of the female nude works of Mick Payton. I had sneaked it in 
without Kathy's knowledge when we were shopping for pictures, and 
later hung it in her bedroom, earning myself a quip: "Hey! I'd 
rather have a picture of some hunk in my bedroom. Something that 
shows tight buns, and not tits!"

I turned at her, giving a quizzical look about the picture.

"Well, if you'd rather prefer, I can hang one of the Kim Anderson 
pictures," she said flashing me a teasing grin.

"No, thank you. That will do _just fine_!" I replied hastily.

"I thought it would," she said, before leaving the room.

_Paybacks... eventually they catch up, whatever I do to evade 
them!_

I smiled at the thought, since it was obvious Kathy had on 
purpose moved the picture from her bedroom to what was, now, 
temporarily my bedroom. I would have preferred one of the Ansel 
Adams scenic photos, but...

I checked what was brought here from my parents', and went 
through the wardrobe. It looked like almost all my clothes were 
brought in, some already in the hangers, and the rest distributed 
in various shelves. Other items like socks, underwear, etc. were 
in one of the drawers. As I was checking out shelves, and 
drawers, I noticed a black duffel bag at the bottom floor of the 
wardrobe. I took it out and set it on the floor. Opening the 
zipper, I checked the contents. It had been a long time, but I 
knew what was in there: my practice katana, wakizashi, a bokken 
(the wooden sword), a white gi set (the canvas cotton trousers 
and jacket), a long and narrow carry bag with a shoulder sling 
for the swords, and a small box with various items related to 
upkeep of the swords. I took out the bokken and the katana to 
inspect them. Pulling the katana from its scabbard, I checked the 
polish. Satisfied with that, I tested the balance and the feel of 
the sword. It felt heavier than I thought it was, but more than 
that, it was disconcerting to discover that it felt foreign; it 
wasn't a natural extension anymore.

_Do I want to practice again? I don't know. Maybe I should start 
practicing with the bokken and see where it would take me._

Carefully sliding the blade into the scabbard, I returned the 
katana into the duffel bag and picked up the bokken. It was still 
in good condition. The surface was slick with wood oil and I 
didn't see any cracks. I was zipping up the duffel bag when I 
felt Kathy standing at the door. Looking over my shoulder, I saw 
her scrutinizing me. I was surprised that this duffel bag was 
here. I expected it to be left at my parents' place. Kathy had 
never said anything, but I always thought she didn't like some of 
my training, and wasn't comfortable with the contents of the 
duffel bag. Another subject I was loath to talk about, especially 
with Kathy.

When I raised an eyebrow, she said, "If you have any dirty 
laundry in your suitcase, I can put them in the washer."

"I don't have much, Sis. I can get it."

"Well, if you want to risk wearing pink underwear, then do it 
yourself."

"Come on, Sis. Whites separate, colored separate. I've washed my 
own stuff before."

"Do you iron as well?" she teased.

"Don't rub it in, will you?"

She wasn't going to let it go. "Do you still cook?"

"Nope. We have cooks and other staff that do the cleaning and 
washing at the rig-site."

"Well, since you've been spoiled by all that service, I better 
get your stuff washed," she retorted with a snort.

"Suit yourself. It's not locked," I replied, then took the duffel 
bag and placed it back in the wardrobe. I put the wooden sword on 
the dresser. I wanted to take it with me for the vacation, and I 
didn't want to forget it. Sensing I was being watched, I turned 
to face Kathy.

"Are you going to practice?" she asked.

"Nope. I'll take it with me for my vacation."

She had an unreadable expression on her face.

"Kathy, what is it?"

"Nothing," she replied. Before I could say anything, she turned 
and got busy going through my suitcase, separating the items into 
neat piles for washing. Over her shoulder, she said, "You'll find 
a bath towel in the bathroom. Go and take a shower, then get some 
sleep. I need to do some shopping--back in a few hours."

Fifteen minutes later I was in bed. I wasn't sure if I would get 
much sleep, but a short nap wouldn't do any harm. I still had to 
catch up with my sleep.



* * * * *



_The sky was a strange mix of blue and gray, the darker colored 
clouds in constant shift, mixing and interloping with each other. 
Standing on the wet sand, I looked at where the horizon should 
be, but I couldn't distinguish sea from sky. They were both the 
same indistinct blue-gray. The rain was coming down gently, but 
in a continuous sheet, made up of fine droplets, blurring the 
details. The whole scene looked like a delicate painting on rice 
paper._

_I heard footsteps on wooden planks and turned towards the sound. 
A girl was walking, headed for the small boat secured to the side 
of the wharf. Untying the ropes, she threw them in and jumped in 
the boat. I didn't catch her face, but she looked familiar. I was 
trying to get a good look and almost started in her direction, 
when I was stopped by a hand on my arm. I turned around and came 
face to face with Dana. She released her hold and brushing my 
cheek with the back of her fingers, pulled me for a gentle kiss. 
Breaking the kiss, she nodded in the direction of the boat. When 
I turned back, I saw 'her'--19 years old, her black hair wet and 
stringy from rain--sitting in the boat; one hand on one of the 
oars and the other waving me goodbye. She had a happy smile on 
her face. I wasn't sure if her face was wet from tears or the 
rain._

_I looked back at Dana and she shooed me away, urging me to go to 
the boat. When I didn't respond, her expression changed and she 
mouthed, "Go!"_

_When I turned my attention back to the boat, the girl was 
already getting ready to row away from the wharf. As I started to 
walk towards her, she saw me coming and waved goodbye again, then 
started rowing the boat away. I ran, but she shook her head with 
a smile on her face. By the time I was at the edge of the wharf, 
the boat was out of reach. She stopped rowing and motioned me to 
go back._

_I heard footsteps behind me and a quick glance revealed Dana 
making her way to me. Her eyes were on the boat and when she was 
standing next to me, she beckoned to the boat, urging the girl to 
row back to the wharf. But, the girl just shook her head and gave 
a small wave, bidding Dana and I goodbye, and picked up the oars 
again. I felt Dana push me over the side and fell into the 
water..._

With a lurch I came awake, feeling somebody trying to push me 
back to bed and something wet on my forehead.

"Shssshhh! Mitch. Take it easy. You were having a bad dream," 
somebody whispered.

I was panting and I couldn't get enough oxygen. The air seemed 
too thin. I tried to breathe normally, but felt like I was 
suffocating. Something cold soothed my forehead and a cold hand 
caressed my neck, while a soft voice repeated, "Breathe slowly. 
Calm down."

The cold hand and the wet towel on my forehead helped me to focus 
my attention, and collect my senses. My breathing eased. Feeling 
my back arched, muscles tensed, I relaxed and let myself onto the 
bed. Kathy was leaning over me, concern written all over her 
face. Trying to ease her worries I tried to smile, but she didn't 
buy it.

"I'm OK, Kathy. Just a bad dream."

"Who is the doctor here?" she replied. She lifted the sheet and 
ran her hand over my chest. "You're wet. You don't have a fever, 
but you're wet with sweat. That's not good, Mitch."

"Maybe I'm coming down with something. It was cold the last two 
nights on the rig, and I spent most of the time outside," I 
offered.

"Maybe," she replied, but she wasn't convinced. "Do you remember 
anything of your dream?"

"No. I only remember falling and that's when I woke up. I'll be 
all right, Sis. I just need a shower."

Taking the wet towel, she wiped my face and neck, then asked me 
to sit up. When I did, she asked if I was feeling dizzy, but I 
was feeling OK. She didn't interrogate me further, which 
surprised me, but I was grateful for the break.

I took a long luxurious shower, while she changed the sheets on 
the bed. I was troubled by the dream and what it meant. I didn't 
have episodes like that. I had nightmares, but I didn't remember 
much of them afterwards, and usually they were a jumble of things 
that didn't make any sense. Contrary to what I said, I remembered 
everything that took place in this dream. When I walked into the 
living room, I found Kathy talking on the phone. Seeing me, she 
cut her talk short and finished the call.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm all right. Sooo... what's the plan?" I said, trying to 
change the subject.

"You still feel like going out? I could fix something here."

"Kathy, when I say I'm all right, I mean _all right_. So, tell 
me.. where do you want to go?"

"There's a new place, really a strange mix, though. Owned and 
operated by a Russian couple, they have Russian and Greek 
specialties. I think you'll like it. They also have live music, 
first some Russian folk music with balalaika, and later, Greek 
music with bouzouki."

"That's a strange mix. Why don't they go with one or the other as 
a theme?"

"I don't know. I think the guy is Russian and the girl is Greek, 
or something," Kathy replied with a chuckle.

"Sounds good to me. Who's driving?"

"We're taking a cab. I'm going to drink and I know you'd like to 
have a few. I want both of us to enjoy the night."

That was strange. I knew she drank, but not much. Usually she 
ended up being the designated driver, so she didn't drink most of 
the time.

_Taking a cab means she's going to let her hair down. Is that 
good or bad? Let's see._

"I can do without the drinks. No need to take a cab. I'll drive."

"If you want to, but I think you'll miss the fun and the 
atmosphere," she replied and headed to her room to change.

_Hmmm ... She doesn't look like she's planning anything._

I watched the news on TV for a few minutes, but getting bored 
with the repetitious crap about a fire in a hotel, I switched to 
a documentary channel. Kathy came back, dressed in a slinky, 
black evening dress, and high heels, with a small overcoat in her 
hand. She had a little bit of make-up and I didn't see any 
jewelry, which reminded me...

"You look good. I better take my jacket," I said and went to my 
room to pick up the little present for her.

When she found out what I had bought her, she loved it and 
immediately put it on. With the décolletage in the front, the 
necklace made a striking contrast with the dress and her tanned 
skin; just as I expected when I bought it. Before we left, I 
remembered I had to call Dana tonight.

"Kathy, are we going to be staying up late?"

"No, not really. That's why we're going early. They close the 
place by midnight, and it's a weeknight. They are open later 
hours only on Fridays and Saturdays. Why?"

"I need to make a call tonight and I don't know if I have to 
leave a message for them to expect a call or not."

"_Them_? You mean _her_, don't you?" she said with a snort.

When I didn't react, she said, "I'll be good, Mitch. I'll be 
reeaaal gooood," making me laugh.

"Yeah? Why am I afraid of that?"

"Come on. Let's go. We have to be back in time for your call... 
to _them_!" she retorted, letting out a teasing laugh.



* * * * *



The restaurant was on the outskirts, in a pretty run-down section 
of town. From the outside it didn't look like much, but the 
inside was a surprise. Ambient lighting was low, but not 
uncomfortably dark. The dark wood finish on the walls gave a 
sense of being in an old house. Old oil lamps complimented the 
atmosphere. The chairs were also wood, stylish in an old 
fashioned manner, but uncomfortable. However, the whole 
atmosphere was great, and with the live music and great tasting 
food, that little discomfort was easy to overlook.

I'd had Greek food a lot of times, so I went for the Russian 
specialties, complimented with a small bottle of vodka. Kathy 
chose Greek specialties and enjoyed a few glasses of Ouzo. I was 
surprised to see her drink that much, but she didn't show it at 
all. I've known girls who could drink, but only a few that liked 
Ouzo. It was, after all, an acquired taste. We tried a few bites 
from each other's plates. I was curious to see how good their 
Greek specialties were, compared to the other places I've been, 
and found out that some of the dishes were as good as I've ever 
had. Next time I would definitely go Greek.

By the time the night was drawing to a close, Kathy was getting a 
bit giggly--well, more like nicely buzzed and bubbly. I loved to 
see her like that. But, she was careful and didn't go to excess. 
She ordered a cup of Greek coffee. I, on the other hand, chose to 
finish off my vodka with a lemon twist. A few years back, I had 
had a bad reaction to coffee after imbibing vodka, and I didn't 
want a repeat.

I paid the tab and we left, arriving home before midnight. I 
didn't have to wait too long for the quip.

"While I'm changing into something comfortable, why don't you 
call... _them_?" she said and headed to her room.

After digging out Dana's number from my wallet, I called her. She 
picked it up after the second ring; must have been expecting my 
call. We talked about her day. She sounded tired but chipper, 
telling me she would rearrange her schedule and take a couple of 
days off. But, that would have to wait until Monday. When I asked 
if, in the next couple of days, she would be spending a few hours 
at the airport here, between flights, she was hesitant to answer.

"Will you pass through the airport here, or have an overnight 
stay?"

"Ummm. Probably..."

"Probably? You don't know your schedule?"

"It's... complicated."

_Complicated? What's going on, Dana?_

I was a bit disappointed, but more than that, I was scared. Was 
she having second thoughts?

"OK..."

"Mitch, it's not what you think," she said in a hurry, hearing 
the uncertainty in my tone.

"It's all right, Dana. I understand," I replied, trying hard to 
keep the strain from my voice.

"It's not about you. It's... Well, she will be back on Saturday, 
and I'll be flying with her the next couple of days," she replied 
with a sigh.

"I see..."

_Damn! This complicates things, but I can't keep on planning my 
life around HER! This isn't fair to Dana, or to me._

I was getting agitated. I didn't know what to say to Dana. I was 
tempted to say 'the hell with _her_!' but I didn't want to put 
Dana in an awkward position.

"Dana, I don't know what to say... No, that's not true. I know 
what I want to say, but I don't want to put pressure on you or 
put you on the spot. Dammit! This is getting ridiculous!"

"Mitch, calm down. Look, this is something we knew was coming. We 
can't avoid it."

"I-I... I can't keep planning my life around her," I blurted.

Dana went quiet at that.

"Dana, you there?"

"Yes, Mitch..."

"I'm sorry. I just want to get to know you and... it feels like I 
won't even get that chance."

"Mitch, we both need time. We can't rush into this. Don't you 
think a few days apart will be good for both of us?"

"I... Yeah. I know, but... If you're saying this because of her, 
I can't accept it. If you're saying it because that's the way you 
feel..."

"Now, you are putting me on the spot, Mitch."

That gave me a pause. I didn't want to put pressure on her, but 
then I remembered my dream and that filled me with a chill.

"Mitch?"

"Sorry. You're right... A few days apart might do us some good."

"Mitch, I miss you... it's not been a day yet, and I miss you. 
But, we need to be patient, and work this thing out," she said 
softly.

"I miss you too, Dana. I'll wait..."

"Good. Now... I can't promise anything, but if I figure out 
something I'll let you know. Where can I reach you?"

"That's going to be a problem. I'm staying with my sis, and... 
well... it's kinda _complicated_," I finished using her own 
expression, and laughing at my choice.

"What kinda _complicated_?" she asked with an amused tone.

"She's being kinda _sisterly_."

"She figured out you have a new woman in your life?" she asked 
with a giggle.

"Yeah... something like that. It's not that I'm trying to keep it 
a secret, but she usually gets overzealous trying to figure out 
what's happening in my life," I said with a resigned tone.

"If she's the kind that I'm guessing she is, she probably cares 
and is being protective."

"I can do without the protection."

That earned me a laugh and she came back with, "That bad, huh?"

"Try, 'not taking _no_ for an answer' for size and see how it 
fits," I retorted.

"Ohh... she's my kind of girl," she teased. "How old is she?"

"Physically or mentally?" I quipped getting a giggle for my 
effort. "She's 24, but her mental age varies between 15 and 60."

"That sounds just about right... I've got to meet her sometime," 
she replied with an amused tone, and I chuckled at her reply.

"What?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"Come on, Mitch."

"Even though I didn't admit to anything, she had said exactly the 
same thing: 'I've got to meet her one day'."

"Well... I can arrange that," she teased, making me shiver at the 
thought.

"Oh, I'm sure you would get along fine. At least, you share the 
same passion and have a similar background. I'm just worried 
about how I could deal with the two of you."

"Really? Tell me more. What's she like? What does she do?"

"She's at the med school; finished her sixth year a few months 
ago. Now, she's going for her specialization."

"Wow! Seriously, Mitch. If you don't mind, I would really like to 
meet her."

"Oh, I do mind! But... I don't see how I could prevent it," I 
replied half-joking, but there was a slight edge to my voice.

That gave her a pause and she hesitantly asked, "You're serious 
about this, aren't you?"

"It's not about you, Dana. It's about the past, and _her_. I 
don't talk about her and nobody knows much about what happened or 
how it happened..."

I didn't finish my sentence, but Dana was quick to get my 
meaning.

"You mean, I'm the only one..."

"Yes. Look, I'm not implying anything, OK? I just know my sister. 
She's devious. I can't even think of a plausible answer to the 
question of how we met or why we met. A small slip up, and she'll 
be all over me like white on rice. She won't try anything with 
you, but I'll be put through the wringer. I love her, but I won't 
put up with certain things."

Changing to a less serious tone, I added, "I don't really mind 
it, Dana. I think it might be good, especially if you can, 
somehow rein her in. I love her too much and she... well, she 
knows that."

"Are you sure, you're not scared of the idea that your sister and 
I would form a sisterly pact?" she teased.

"Well... OK! I'll admit it. The thought crossed my mind... more 
than once," I replied with a chuckle. "How serious are you about 
meeting her, Dana?"

"Pretty serious."

"Any particular reason?"

"It's hard to explain... We really need to talk about these 
things face to face, Mitch."

"I guess... I was just curious. I don't need to know your 
reasons. Maybe it would be better. I have handled her before, so 
don't worry about it too much."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Dana, I'm sure. I don't want to sneak around, or hide."

"OK!" she said. After a short pause, she asked, "You're not going 
to tease her to death about me, are you?"

I almost missed the amused tone. She was sharp. I hadn't even 
thought about the possibilities. I would have eventually, but 
Dana had beaten me to it.

"Darn! I was just thinking about the possibilities. How did you--
"

"Honey, if I were in your shoes, I would have. After all the 
things you said about her..."

"Hmmm... I'm not going to regret my decision, am I?"

"I love you too much for that," she said, her voice filled with 
emotion.

"I... I wanted to say those words first, Dana. Tonight just 
doesn't seem to be my night."

"You said it first, Mitch... if you remember..."

"Yes, but... you know what I mean."

"I know." After a pause, she changed the subject, "Is she listed 
in the directory?"

"Yeah. Katherine Tanner."

For extra measure I gave her the number and address, which she 
noted down. As we finished our conversation with "I love you," my 
sister walked in, wearing her bathrobe and a towel wrapped around 
her hair.

When I looked up, she had an amused expression.

"Strange way to end a conversation. Considering, you were talking 
to _them_," she quipped.

When I didn't respond, she continued, "I never thought I would 
hear you say those words again, Bro."

That reminded me... _She_ had been the only one until recently.

_Do I still love her, or am I in love with that 19 year old girl? 
What's going to happen with her... and Dana? What's the meaning 
of the dream?_

I didn't have an answer to any one of them.

"Why? I say those words to you and good friends. I said it... to 
_them_," I replied with a teasing grin.

"_Them_? Come on, Mitch. Why don't you spell it out? She's not a 
_them_. She has a name. At least use her name or say _she_. Do I 
have to find it out using my own means?"

"That would prove to be a difficult task, Sis. You don't know 
_them_. You never met _them_," I goaded her. I was enjoying 
myself too much, especially pressing her buttons, after all the 
headache she had given me. I would eventually let her know, but I 
wanted her to sweat a bit.

"_Really_?" she responded with an ominous tone, and I felt the 
hair rise at the back of my neck. Kathy never shied away from 
challenges. This wasn't the first time I wondered how we managed 
to avoid killing each other, considering how stubborn and 
competitive we had been since childhood.

_What's she up to?_

"Yes, really. I gave you the opportunity before. You just had to 
give me your promise. Instead, you decided to act like a child. 
Give me your promise and I'll tell you about... _them_," I 
replied, flashing a grin.

"How about... I don't give you my promise... and..."

"And?"

"Still find out about her... for example who she is?" she 
retorted smugly.

"Not from me, Sis. I ain't saying nothing about... _them_!"

"I didn't say you would. I just don't want you to get pissed off, 
when I get her name. That's all!"

"Oh, I'm not worried about that."

"OK! By the way, I'm going to throw you a freebie, and won't 
bother you with questions. Just so, you can't say I wasn't being 
sporting about this."

I felt something cold run at my back, and almost shivered at the 
feeling. She never gave freebies!

_Fuck! Twice in a day? I know you have a devious mind, but you 
can't be that lucky. What the hell am I missing?_

"If you're not going to bother me with questions, why is it so 
difficult to give me your promise?" I asked.

"A promise is indefinite. It closes all the doors, and I know 
you'll hold me to it."

"And the freebie is not a promise? It sounded almost like a 
promise."

"That's where you're mistaken, dear brother. I'll get her name by 
my own means and I won't bother you with questions, until you 
tell me about her. After that, the doors don't stay closed. 
That's the difference."

Giving me a devilish grin, she continued, "Not only that, but I 
can change my mind anytime I want. After all, I'm a woman and we 
are entitled. I won't do that with a promise, and you know that."

I couldn't help but laugh at her antics. She could be 
entertaining when she wanted to be. She seemed so sure of herself 
I wanted to see how creative she would get, and how long it would 
take her to find out Dana's identity.

"OK. I'll play. Do your worst."

Suddenly, she got serious. "Mitch, I don't want to piss you off, 
OK? She's good for you, and I wouldn't mess it up for anything. 
Especially, something trivial like this challenge."

"It's all right, Kathy. Really. I'm just curious what you're 
planning and how long it will take you."

She was still not convinced, and for the first time I noticed 
something else. She was apprehensive about the aftermath; if our 
relationship would change for the worse.

"Kathy, I'm game. Go ahead. Just like the old times."

When she heard that she knew I meant it and her face lit up with 
enthusiasm. I guess we both missed our childhood closeness and 
here was a moment that captured it. With a mischievous twinkle in 
her eyes, she asked, "Have you got a watch, dear brother?"

"Watch? For what?"

"I think this will be a record in terms of the shortest battle 
ever fought. I want it recorded for posterity!" she retorted with 
a big grin.

"Sheeesh, Kathy. I hope you won't be rubbing it in every minute 
of the day." I was getting into the spirit of things.

"Ahh, Mitch, I love you too much for that."

At that, I almost blurted out what Dana had said.

_I think you two will get along just fine, when you get to meet 
each other._

"I'm waiting, Sis. I'm curious how you're going to pull up a 
rabbit from a non-existent hat."

With a smile on her face she walked to the telephone and picked 
it up.

"I have my magic hat here," she retorted wickedly.

_Shit! Redial. For fuck's sake, how the hell did I not think of 
it? She gave me enough hints and enough warning. She had been a 
real sport with this. I'll give her that._

Kathy was probably going to fake a wrong number call. I tried to 
recall how Dana responded to my call; she had used her full name. 
Kathy pressed the redial button and listened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have dialed the wrong number."

While I expected the call to end, I saw Kathy sputter, her 
expression changing to a stunned surprise. She hesitated for a 
moment before replying with a timid, "Y-yes." The call wasn't 
finished and Kathy was still listening. I heard several 'hmmms' 
and 'ahhhs,' with a 'yes' thrown in between.

_What the hell's going on?_

Finally, Kathy said, "Yes. I will. I'm sorry to disturb you at 
this late hour." Then she finished the call with a "Good night."

She had a dazed expression on her face, but also a smile.

"OK, what just happened"? I asked, dreading the answer. From her 
expression, I was pretty sure Dana had caught Kathy at her game.

"You have a very cool girl friend, Mitch. I like her."

"She figured out who you were?" I asked the obvious.

"It seems she had been forewarned," she came back.

"I didn't say anything."

"Well, it seems you've talked about me. When my call came a few 
minutes after yours, she got suspicious. So, she took a potshot, 
and... well, she scored."

"Well, you did deserve that."

"Yeah, I did. It was pretty embarrassing at first, but she was 
cool."

I nodded.

"She told me to tell you that everything was all right. She 
suggested I talk to you first, before you called her back."

"What else did she say?"

"Nothing. She was trying to put me at ease, that's all. She also 
said that she would like a call back from you. She'll be up for 
another hour."

"OK, I'll call her. Anything else?"

"Nope."

"No, I mean, no questions from you?"

"Well... I'm dying to know about her, but I'll wait. Just don't 
make me wait too long."

"Kathy I can't promise anything; that's why I was trying to get 
your promise. You know me well enough to understand that I have 
my reasons. This isn't a high school romance thing."

She nodded, still a bit shaken.

I called Dana and we had a short talk.

"How is she taking it?" she asked.

"Pretty much dazed. How did you catch her?"

"Nobody calls me at this hour, and it was a young woman's voice, 
and it came not too long after your call. I was just going to let 
it pass as a wrong number call, but... people are usually 
careful, especially young women, at this late hour, about whom 
they dial."

She was sharp and her reasoning was simple. I laughed at how 
easily Kathy had been figured out.

"Don't laugh, Mitch," she admonished me.

"Why shouldn't I? You don't know what she did before pulling that 
trick on me."

"She's a clever girl, Mitch, and resourceful. So what did you 
lose?"

"Oh, nothing serious. In fact, I don't think she'll gloat about 
this, at all."

"What do you mean?"

"She had the gall to ask me if I had a watch."

"Watch?" Dana repeated, confused.

"Yeah. She said she wanted this to be recorded for posterity for 
the shortest battle ever fought."

I had to keep the handset off my ear, as Dana let out a hoot. 
When she collected herself, she said, "I like her. She plays for 
keeps."

"Well... I like her too. Especially the new Kathy I have," I said 
loudly, so Kathy would hear me.

"Leave me out of your sibling rivalry, Mitch. And be nice to 
her," Dana said.

Just then I had a pillow on my head. As usual, Kathy was 
reverting to her teenage self.

"Uh, OK! Are you sure you wouldn't give me a hand with a pillow 
fight I'm invited to?"

"What did she do? Throw a pillow?"

"Yep."

"You deserved it, Mitch."

"I guess, I did. I better not keep you up. It's already late."

"Tell her I like her. And, Mitch... I love you."

"I love you too, Dana. Sleep tight."

When I sat on the couch next to Kathy, she looked up expectantly.

"I gathered you got her name. We've...just met, and somehow hit 
it off. She's a few years older than me, and... well, we want to 
see where we go. It's too early to say anything."

She wasn't satisfied with that, so she asked, "Can't you at least 
tell me how you met her or what she does for work?"

Those particular questions were the ones that I dreaded. They 
could open a whole can of worms and I didn't want that. Kathy had 
an incredible mind, when I least expected it.

"We've met at the airport... but actually... she was on the same 
flight I was."

Kathy was putting me under the microscope again and she knew I 
wasn't telling her much. She also saw through how carefully I 
constructed my reply. To my surprise, she moved on... to 
something I didn't want to talk about at all.

"OK. So, you saw her in the plane. What does she do?"

"She's a flight attendant," I replied trying to keep my voice 
level.

For a moment her eyes widened in surprise and I could hear the 
wheels turning in her head. I don't know what she thought, but to 
my surprise she changed the subject, swiftly.

"It's getting late, Bro. It's time to hit the bed. Tomorrow we 
need to wake up early. We'll catch breakfast with Mom and Dad, 
and then you can collect your car and go to the garage."

I realized I was holding my breath and I let it out slowly. I 
nodded and gave her a goodnight kiss, before I made my way to my 
room.



* * * * *