Tales from an Unknown Corner

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.

* * * * *