Date: Thu, 15 Jul 2004 10:14:30 -0700 From: RC in Sacramento Subject: Munchkin Chapter 7 "Here, I got some ice water from the kitchen--" "No, don't, he's covered in sweat and shivering. Phil, help me get him up off the ground. Joe, can you hear me? Joe, it's Jennie. I know you don't feel like it, but you're going to be alright. You just have to calm down, alright? Now I want you to concentrate on just taking a single, deep breath. Just one breath. Can you do that for me, Joe?" The darkness was beginning to clear from around the edges of his vision, and since he could hear Jennie's words it meant that his heart wasn't beating as badly. He was still shivering though, and his stomach felt like it was about to start throwing things. He looked up and saw Margie Dowd hurrying forward, carrying a blanket. The crowd around her fell back as she came closer and draped the blanket around his shoulders. He took it gratefully, huddling inside the folds and seeking it's warmth. For the first time he noticed that Jennie was feeling the pulse at his neck and checking it against her watch. She looked up at Margie and gave her a reassuring nod, which made him wonder distantly what they both knew that he didn't. "Should we get him to the hospital?" The concerned voice belonged to George, the oldest of the Cameron brothers, who he'd met only a couple of hours ago. "No, I don't think that will be necessary. I think I know what happened here." Jennie, who had been kneeling beside him, now touched his cheek to bring his eyes to hers. She spoke to him in a slow, steady voice, trying to make sure that he understood her. "Joe, I need you to answer some questions now, okay? First off, I need to find out just what happened here, what your symptoms were. Now your heartbeat was very fast, could you hear it rushing in your ears? Could you hear your heart pounding, Joe?" It took him a few tries to get the words out, but finally he did, nodding, grateful that he was getting some little control of his body back. "Y-yuh-yes. It was j-just like that. I couldn't hear anything else. An' then, then everything was dark for a while. But I didn't pass out. I'm, I'm s-sorry." Joe couldn't have said at that moment just what it was he was sorry about. But now that the fear was gone, his most overwhelming emotion was embarrassment. He looked around now, still shivering, and took note of how all the Cameron family and their two female guests were gathered around him with looks of deep concern. Somehow, that only served to deepen his sense of shame. But Jennie just smiled, and stroked his cheek. "That's alright, hon. You didn't do anything wrong, we were just worried about you, that's all. Now Joe, I want you to tell me what else you were feeling just before things got dark, okay? Just tell me what happened to you." He took a deep breath before he did, noticing the last of his chest pain fading away. "My chest, it hurt. Real bad, like a heart attack or something. And before that, my hands. My fingers, I mean. They started going numb. I... I thought I was going to d-die." Joe felt the hot tears begin to well up in his eyes, tried desperately to make them stop. To cry in front of these people now, like some stupid little kid with a skinned knee, that would have been too much. He turned his head, suddenly wishing that he really had died, or could do so right now, this moment. He expected to see disgust in Jennie's eyes, or even worse, pity. But the only thing there was a calm strength and an encouraging smile. She took his hands in hers and started to rub them. "The numbness in your fingers, it's gone now, isn't it? And the pain in your chest?" "Yes, it's g-gone." "And you've stopped shivering and sweating, too. You're going to be alright, Joe. I think I know what happened." She turned to Margie then and once again they shared that same look, as of two professionals who had come to the same diagnosis. "You've seen this before, Margie? In your work, I mean." "Oh, yes," she replied, nodding sagely. "Many times. Panic attack, am I right?" "I think so. He has most of the classic symptoms. Heart pounding arrhythmia, chest pains, sweats and shivering, numbness in the extremities." "The sure sense of impending death. He was probably nauseous and had blurred vision, too," Margie put in. The two women looked at Joe, who could only nod glumly. The diagnosis didn't help, instead it only made his shame complete. What would they think of him, now that they knew he wasn't sick, that he had had a `panic attack? What did Becka think? That he was some sort of damned coward. God, why couldn't it have been a heart attack. It was Becka and Gia who helped him inside. He wanted to cringe at their touch, but he managed not to. They got him into the living room and sat him down on the couch, the blanket still wrapped around his skinny shoulders. Then Jennie and Margie shooed everybody out while they had a talk with him in private. The girls seemed reluctant to comply, but when their father laid one large hand on each of their shoulders, they had no choice but to let him steer them out of the room. Joe felt some of the tension in his chest dissolve as if with the departing crowd. Jennie may have been the medical professional, but Margie was far more experienced in counseling troubled teens, so she took the lead. While Jennie sat on the couch holding his hand, the older woman took a seat across from him and waited until he raised his eyes and looked at her. "Joe, I think I know what you're thinking right now. You're thinking that there's something wrong with you because of what happened tonight. You think because it's called a panic attack, it means that you're some sort of coward. And now you feel ashamed because of it, and want to tell you that that is complete and utter bull! "Panic attacks are involuntary biological reactions. It is the body's response to long periods of stress, or even recent trauma. They can happen to anyone. It's like racing a car's engine on high for too long, sooner or later the motor will seize. You are no more to blame for what happened to you than that hypothetical motor is." Margie looked closely at the boy's eyes, hoping to see something there, some indication that her words were getting through. Yes, yes there it was. Only a spark, but she could work with that. She had to, her many years of experience with the young victims of trauma told her that here and now was a critical point. * * * She spoke with him for over an hour, although it was mostly her talking and him listening to her calm, reasonable words. Jennie had left after the first few minutes, knowing that she would only be in the way. She slipped outside to where the Cameron family waited, grouped around the redwood picnic table where they had earlier eaten dinner. The men of the family looked at her expectantly, their expressions giving away no more than patient concern. But the girls were more open about their feelings, and anxiety for their friend was written plain on their young faces. Jennie took her seat next to Bobby, who squeezed her hand in silent support. She gave him a quick smile, and then explained to him and his family just what had happened to their guest. She told them clinically about the nature of panic attacks, what caused them, and how they were much more common than most people knew. That they may last only a few minutes, but the potential long term affects could be devastating. "It becomes almost an automatic response, I guess. It's like the body's reaction to danger has been set on high. Everything scares you, sometimes even resulting in crippling phobias. Agoraphobia is probably the most common, where the patient becomes terrified even to leave their home, although that's an extreme case. "Now I'm not saying that this is what's going to happen with Joe, I'm just saying that it could, if the stress and what causes it isn't dealt with. Still, I'm glad Margie's here tonight, I really don't have much experience with this sort of thing. The wounds that I treat are usually more visible." The family was quiet for the next few minutes, taking it all in. Phil was rubbing the back of his neck and shaking his head in consternation when he finally broke the silence. "I don't get it. I talked to his aunt, for chrissakes, I'm sure she doesn't know anything about this. I mean, he's just a kid. What could have happened to him that was all that bad?" He felt his daughters shift on the wooden bench across from him, looked at his newest child and saw Becka turn her eyes away from him uncomfortably. Then with a chill down his spine he remembered. Terrible things can happen, even to kids. Phil tried to think of something to say, but before he could Gia reached out and laid a small hand on his arm. "Dad, no. It wasn't that, it wasn't like what happened to Becka. It's more like what happened to me. We can't tell you anything else about it, we promised Joe. It's just private, okay?" Becka nodded at him also, flashing him a smile that let him off the hook. "Yeah, Poppa Bear. And besides, I think it goes back way farther than this. Joe's been picked on a lot at school, probably always has been. Gary Harper is maybe the worst, but he's not the only one. And, well," she hesitated, once again looking uncomfortable. "I think... I think I was one of the people who hassled him." She explained her reasoning for that statement, about Joe's reaction the first time she had met him, and her certainty that sometime in the past she had been one of his abusers even if only once. There was shame behind her eyes, when she concluded that she shared the blame for all that had happened to him. "That's quite a stretch, little sister," Bobby said, in that slow Mr. Cool voice of his. "Even if you're right, even if you did once pick on Joe, it must have been years ago or else you would have remembered it. And in the past week you must have helped him a hell of a lot more than you ever hurt him. You didn't cause any of this to happen." Jennie nodded, adding the weight of professional opinion to the argument. "Honey, Bobby's right about this. You aren't responsible for Joe's attack today." "Yeah, so stop beating yourself up over this, dammit," Phil growled in mock anger. Becka laughed despite herself, then reluctantly agreed with everyone there. "Okay, you guys, thanks. I know I'm being stupid, and I'm going to stop it. But I still feel sorry for Joe, and I want us to help him. So how do we do that?" "We can always have a `talk' with this Harper punk. I think we can get him to back off of Joe. Way off, right guys?" Johnny offered, with a dark smile that didn't reach his eyes. His big right hand formed into a fist, in case anybody was unsure about his meaning. "So, you're saying Joe should spend the rest of his life hiding behind us? That's no way for him to live, John." Phil looked around at his family, seeing them considering his words, saw the agreement when it came to their eyes. "So we teach him how to defend himself. I mean, that's what we do anyway, right?" Gia piped up, grinning. She leaped to her feet and sprang out onto the middle of the patio, where she began throwing punches and kicks at the empty air. It was a martial arts kata, a stylized sequence of fighting moves that looked like nothing so much as a deadly dance. Her hands sliced like knives, heels flashed at targets higher than her shoulders, fists bludgeoned at invisible targets, and a dozen imaginary foes fell to the concrete ground in bloody heaps. All of this accompanied by Gia's explosive cries of "HeeeYAAAH!" whenever she struck a particularly devastating blow. She finished her demonstration with one final shout and a spinning reverse kick that would have surely taken off the head of her final opponent, and ended up standing at a rigid attention. After a few anticlimactic moments, she slowly bowed towards her audience. With the exception of Jennie and Becka the applause was appreciative but not explosive, her father and brothers had been the ones to train her and knew well what she was capable of. Jennie however was jumping up and down in her seat and cheering enthusiastically, while Becka had her hands cupped to her mouth and was shouting, "Boo! Showoff! Showoff! Boooo!" Gia blithely ignored her, as she took a second bow. "Sweet Christmas, I never knew that she was so good at this!" Jennie was saying to Bobby, her eyes still sparkling. "So you guys can really teach Joe to fight like that?" But Bobby was shaking his head in the negative. "For all practical purposes, no. Gia's been training for years, and we've all given her our personal attention. We could probably do the same for him. But Joe doesn't have the time to develop any sort of real skill at the arts, he's going to need to defend himself now." "Yeah, but we can take shortcuts in a case like this. There are a lot of really dirty tricks we can teach him. They're not pretty, but they work." George's words brought a nod of agreement from his assembled family, but none more so than from Becka. "You should have seen these guys the first month I was here" she said, putting her arm around Gia, who had sat down next to her. Jennie noticed that the younger girl wasn't even breathing hard after her high speed demonstration. "After all that had happened, everybody spent every spare hour teaching me, making sure I knew how to defend myself. They taught me every dirty fighting trick in the book, and now I know more ways to kill someone than a CIA hit man." She looked around and beamed at her family with eyes of fondness, then gave Gia another hug. "It was the nicest thing anybody's ever done for me." Jennie didn't know if she was supposed to laugh or not, until she saw the tiny twitch at the corner of Bobby's mouth. She dug an elbow in his ribs which just made him chuckle, and apparently everybody else at the table, too. Sometimes, even with the girls here, the testosterone levels in this house got pretty thick. "Alright, I'll take your word for it that you can turn Joe into a little killing machine. But you know, he's got more problems than just being able to protect himself. From what I saw he has very few social skills at all, and his self esteem is almost nonexistent. If he has any friends other than us, I'd be surprised. I think we should also find a way to help him fit in with people his own age." Becka and Gia looked at each other, exchanging glances and something more. Then they grinned, slapping their hands in a high five and chorused, "MAKEOVER!" While the three females laughed and chattered and plotted their strategy, Phil and his sons could only sigh and shake their heads in commiseration for the boy. Joe's fate was sealed, and he didn't even know it. * * * When he and Margie Dowd had finished their talk, she had let Joe slip away upstairs to his room, promising that she would explain to the Camerons. He knew he owed them an apology, but right then he just couldn't get up the energy to face anyone. Instead he lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling and feeling drained. His eyes burned and felt dry, as did the swelling of his throat. Margie had finally convinced him that the panic attack was nothing to be ashamed of, but he was still so embarrassed that everyone had seen it. That, and the lingering memory of the experience was leaving him feeling both tense as a board and yet limp as a rag. The pain in his chest, the absolute surety that he was going to die, the terror of that certainty. He couldn't leave the memory alone. It was like there was an open wound inside of him, something that he felt compelled to touch, even though he knew it would hurt all over again. Time passed, and shadows began to creep in as the sun went down. Another feeling of unreality started to pass over him, as the tumultuous rumble of his thoughts finally began to fade. At first he tried to sleep, even fought to do so. But then he noticed distantly that he had somehow forgotten to breathe. He decided that probably wasn't a good thing and ordered his lazy lungs to stop shirking and get back to work. They did reluctantly, but now he was afraid to go to sleep in case he stopped breathing again and this time not wake up. So instead he decided to just lay there until he felt better, and maybe just close his eyes and rest them for a few minutes. Just for a few... * * * After the cleanup from the picnic was all done, most of the Cameron family concluded their own plans for Saturday evening. Phil and Margie went out on a date, as did Bobby and Jennie. Johnny disappeared into his room to study and do homework, while George was off to a friend's house to help rebuild a transmission. That left the girls, who had rented some movies and planned to camp out in the living room and invite Hollywood to rot their brains. Becka had other plans too, but her sister put an end to them real fast. "He's got a WHAT?!" "Shhh! Quiet, do you want to wake him up?" "But—whaddaya mean, Joe's got a crush on me? I'm gay, for cryin' out loud!" "Yes, love, I already figured that out. And I've told Joe that, too. But I think he's having a little trouble accepting it because, after all, he has this crush on you." "Well, how do you know that? Did he tell you or something?" Gia snorted disdainfully. "Oh yes, that's what he did. We were having lunch and he casually said, `by the way, I'm madly in love with your sister.' No, little girl, he didn't say anything. But it's pretty obvious that he does." "Well it hasn't been obvious to me. How do you know you're not wrong?" Becka demanded, grasping at straws. "Because Margie thinks so, too." "...oh." That was it then, Margie's insight into the minds and hearts of young people was almost mystical. Becka felt the last straw slipping away from her grasp. "Ohhh, man! What are we gonna do?" "Give him time. As Margie put it, let him adjust to the fact that you're `unobtainable' and you two can only be friends. And, in the meantime..." Her voice tapered off, causing Becka to look at her suspiciously. "In the meantime?" she said, repeating the words. Gia sighed. "In the meantime, we don't throw `us' at him. No hugging, kissing, or groping in front of the house guest. Until he accepts what we are that'd be just like a slap in the face." "Ohh, maaan!´ Becka groaned, slumping down into the couch in frustration. Gia couldn't help smiling, but she also gave her arm a consoling squeeze. Then she got up to make popcorn and pop in the first DVD. During the first movie Becka found her hand had wandered over to Gia's lap on it's own, and was absent mindedly stroking her lover's thigh. Gia slapped it away, then got up and moved to the other end of the couch. Becka crossed her arms and sank deeper into her seat, scowling, and thinking dark thoughts. The second film was just starting when the girls looked up and saw Joe standing in the entrance to the room, looking at them hesitantly. After a moments uncertainty, Becka reached over and patted the seat cushion between her and Gia. Joe accepted the invitation and took his place on the couch, sitting tentatively between the girls. In silence they watched the rest of the film. * * * Joe panicked for a second when he woke up Sunday morning, sitting up in bed, darting blurry eyes around the strange room. There was nothing frightening about the space, nothing threatening, yet everything was just wrong. The bed was wrong, the walls were wrong, the sunlight coming from a different angle, all wrong. Then memory returned like an errant pet, and Joe suddenly found himself very much awake. With a deep felt groan he dropped back on the bed and closed his eyes, letting the images of the past forty eight hours play across the blank screen of his mind. By the time it was all done, Joe felt like he had just been beaten with a two by four. Finally with a sigh he reached over to the unfamiliar nightstand and fumbled for his glasses. He grimaced when he saw them, remembering the damage they had suffered so recently. The black plastic frames were ugly enough by themselves, but the tape holding the broken earpiece together only served to complete the classic `nerd' image. All he needed now, he thought wryly, was a pocket protector and a bad case of acne. He took a shower and dressed in fresh clothes, grimacing at the sour perspiration smell of what he had worn yesterday. He realized that he hadn't brought enough clothing to last for a whole week, and made a mental note to himself to ask if he could borrow the Cameron's washer and dryer. After combing his unruly thatch of hair into something that might pass for presentable, he took a deep breath and went out to face the people who had seen him fall to cowardly pieces the day before. Downstairs he heard conversation coming from the kitchen, and followed the sound along with the aroma of cooking pancake batter. He found Becka and Gia there, the former setting out dishes at the serving bar, while the latter was expertly flipping golden brown disks off an electric griddle and onto a platter. Joe's eyebrows went up when he saw the first platter already full sitting off to the side. "G'Morning, sleepyhead" said Gia, giving him a smile. Becka looked up too, showing her teeth in her usual grin. "Morning, Joe. You want milk or coffee with your pancakes?" "Good morning. Um, milk, please." He watched her pour the requested beverage from a carton and place it by a plate on the counter. He took the seat in front of the plate, and when Gia brought over the platter of fresh pancakes he helped himself. Conversation stopped completely as the three teens settled in to the important job at hand. Besides the pancakes Gia had also cooked up a plate of turkey sausage and bacon and some biscuits with scrambled eggs, and there was a bowl of fresh strawberries, too. Joe hadn't thought he was all that hungry, especially after seeing just how much food the girls had made, but the first bite soon proved him wrong. He found that he was actually famished, and was back for seconds in record time. Cleaning up turned out to be fun, all the tension from yesterday seeming to have disappeared along with their meals. Since she had done all the cooking Gia claimed cook's privilege and sat watching as Joe and her sister washed dishes, wiped counters, and wrapped the left over platters of food in plastic wrap. When Joe asked about that, she explained that it was for their father and brothers, who liked to sleep in late on Sundays. It was as they were putting the last of the food away that it happened. Becka had wiped off the butcher's block where they had sliced the strawberries, and had made a line of the cut up pieces of fruit and stems. With a wicked gleam in her eye she bent over, lined up the shot, and used her middle finger and thumb to flick the first bit of sticky berry across the length of the kitchen and into Gia's hair. She managed to get two more strawberry stems on target before the other girl caught on. "HEY!" Gia shouted, as she spun around and snatched at her long black locks. When she saw what she had combed out with her fingers, she scowled at her sister, who laughed back totally unworried. "Oooh, you brat, you are so gonna pay!" Gia threw the wet rag she was holding straight towards Becka's head, but the blonde girl snatched it out of the air and threw it back. Gia sidestepped, and the flying wet bundle sailed past her to hit Joe in the face instead. The boy squawked, then quickly joined Gia in arming themselves from the plate of biscuits. Becka squealed at the first salvo, but quickly rallied with whole strawberries and some cold scrambled eggs. The air grew thick with garbage missiles, and by the time the war was over a few minutes later the kitchen was once again a mess, and the three teens were leaning against the counters weak with laughter. "I got the dustpan" Becka finally said, moving towards the pantry where the cleaning supplies were kept. Gia started to move also. "I've got to clean up. You too, Joe, you've got jelly all over you're face." "Jelly? How did that happen?" "I don't know, but come over here to the sink and wash it off." Gia cleaned her hands under the warm water, then took a fresh washcloth from a drawer and ran it under the tap. She wrung it out and handed it to Joe, who took off his glasses and laid them on the counter while he scrubbed at his face. When she saw Becka coming back into the kitchen with the broom and dustpan, she snatched Joe's glasses from the counter and tossed them on the floor at her sister's feet. Without a pause Becka stepped squarely on the black frames and ground them down with a loud crack! "Oh, no! Joe, I'm sorry, it was an accident," Becka exclaimed, as the boy looked up and blinked myopically. Gia bent down and picked something up off the floor, and Joe had to squint hard to recognize what it as she now held. "My glasses!" he exclaimed, reaching for them. His heart sank when he took them from Gia and realized they were in two pieces. "Ohh, it wasn't Becka's fault, Joe, it was mine! I didn't see your glasses when I grabbed the dishtowel, and I knocked them off on the ground right in front of her. I am just so, so sorry. Look, I'll buy you a brand new pair, okay? I was going to the mall already, and they've got one of those places that can fit you with glasses in one hour." "Yeah, you two can do that. I've got to go into the shop and finish up that van, but I'll meet up with you guys later. How's that sound?" "Umm, yeah, sure. We can do that." Joe stood staring at his broken frames, thinking that things were going a bit too fast. A large part of his ego rebelled at the thought of the girls buying him something as expensive as new glasses, especially after all they had done for him already. But he couldn't fault their logic, they had after all been the ones to break his glasses in the first place. Even if they were an ugly piece of crap, he still needed them to see. "Great. Look, since you can't see what you're doing, we'll finish up in here. You said you wanted to check your phone messages anyway, you can do that in Dad's office. It's just around the corner and to your left. Joe nodded, then made his nearsighted way out of the kitchen. As soon as his back was turned, the two girls exchanged quietly smug smiles. Becka held her hand out palm up, while Gia lightly creased it with her own. * * * There were four messages on the answering machine at his house when Joe called, all of them from Milo. Joe groaned and slapped his forehead when he realized that he had promised to spend yesterday playing video games at his friends house. He felt guilt like a bad taste at the back of his throat as he listened to the last message. By this time Milo was acting royally pissed off at him for flaking out, but Joe could hear the concern in his voice, also. He had to give him a call, but he had better talk to the girls first. "Oh man, I just screwed up" he said, coming back into the kitchen. He explained to the sisters about Milo and their missed day of gaming the day before. Then he told them what he felt he had to do. "So I've got to call him and apologize. And then he'll say I owe him and that I should come over there today and game with him and some of his geeker friends. Every Sunday they get together and do role playing games, and he's always trying to drag me into one. I know, it's silly, but he's my friend and I kind of have to go." The girls looked at each other, and then shrugged. "No problem. How long do these RPGs last?" Gia asked. "They usually start at twelve and go `til about five or six." "Great, then. We'll go to the mall right now and get your glasses, and then be over at your friend's house by around one or two o'clock. How does that sound?" "Ummm, did you say `we'? As in you want to come there with me?" "Yeah, sure. Becka has to work, but I can be there. Why, do you think they'd mind if you brought me along? Maybe even played a game or two?" Joe thought about Milo, Kenny, and the rest of the D & D Kings being offered the chance to spend the day playing with any girl, much less one as beautiful as Gia Cameron. He imagined there'd be a lot of stammering, drooling, and nervous twitching. Yeah, definitely lots of twitching. "Um, I don't think that would be a problem." "Great, you give him a call while I get my purse. We have to drop Becka off first, so we gotta jet." Joe nodded and went back to Phil's office and called Milo. When he got his friend on the phone the reaction was pretty much what he had expected. "Man, where the hell were you? You know what it's like playin' Resident Evil all by yourself? No fun, man, no fun at all! I had to call Swenson over to take your place. Dude, he wanted to talk about the new Spiderman movie all the while I'm tryin' to kick his ass. Damn fool thinks he'll implode if he's quiet for more than five minutes at a time. Dammit man, where were you?" "Hey, I'm sorry, alright? Something came up yesterday and I forgot. It's no big thing." "You din't just forget, dude, you disappeared! I kept callin' your place all night long, an' you never answered. Where were you, man? I almost called Five-O on you." "Look, I just had a little trouble, and I spent yesterday and last night with some friends. That's all." "You don't got any friends. Besides, what kind of trouble could make you forget Resident Evil and BMX?" "The Gary Harper kind of trouble." "Oh." The phone went silent for a while, and Joe could just picture his friend mulling this new information over. Finally, Milo asked, "You okay, man? You din't have to go to the hospital or anything, didja?" "No, I'm... I'm fine, Milo. Look, are you and the Kings playing today?" "Yeah, every Sunday. You know that. Why, you wanna roll some dice today?" "Thinking about it. I mean, yeah, sure. Look, we'll be over sometime between one and two, okay?" "Hold it, did you just say `we'? Would this we happen to be the `friend' you spent the night with? The friend I haven't met yet?" "Yes, Milo, she is. We'll be over as soon as we get back from the mall, alright?" "She? You're bringin' a girl over to my house to play D & D? Dude, where'd you ever meet a girl? Is she pretty? Man, I gotta get this place cleaned up—" "Goodbye, Milo" Joe said, as he hung up the phone. He shook his head as he left Phil's office, thinking about the imminent meeting between Gia and Milo Micheals, and then tried imagining what would happen if Milo ever met Becka. He couldn't quite picture that last one, but he felt a cold shiver run the length of his spine when he tried. * * * The trip to the mall after dropping Becka off was made in silence, the kind that seems to hang in the air and demand to be filled. Joe was uncomfortably aware of it's presence, hoping Gia would say or do something to break it, but she never said a word. Finally, as they circled through the crowded lot looking for a place to park, he decided the burden was on him. He took a deep breath, trying not to fumble the words. "Umm, Gia, I just... I wanted to say that—" "Uh uh, don't." Joe stopped, blinked, looked at the pretty girl behind the wheel who was now shaking her head emphatically. Not for the first time in the last couple of days, he felt totally confused. "Uh, what...?" he began, but Gia rolled her eyes and interrupted him again before he could form the question. "Don't say anything stupid. Like, don't apologize for having that panic attack last night. Or for breaking up the barbecue, or for being such a burden, or any other crap. In fact, don't apologize at all, because you haven't done anything wrong. So I don't want to hear any of that, okay?" She looked at him sternly, but the crinkle around her eyes told him she wasn't really mad. He felt the tension he'd been carrying since yesterday leak away, let it show as a grateful smile. A few minutes later they found a spot to park. * * * The mall was particularly crowded due to the three day weekend, but fortunately they found a salesgirl to help them at the optical store. Joe didn't know his prescription, but the girl said that wouldn't be a problem, they could just have their optician measure his old lenses. She took the broken glasses from Joe and frowned. "Strange, these look like military frames. Is one of your parents in the service?" "No, my parents are dead. But my Aunt Mattie has a medical discharge, so we get to shop at military bases. That's were we got these." "Well, I don't imagine they have very much selection there, do they? I'll tell you what, while I'm in back why don't you shop around and try on some of our metal frames? See if anything calls out to you." "Sounds like a plan, I think we'll do that" Gia said, dragging Joe over to the displays on the wall without waiting for his answer. Joe tried squinting at the gold and silver colored metallic frames, but his eyesight was too poor, so he had to trust in Gia's taste. He also couldn't see the price tags, and when he asked her she just ignored him and had him try on something else. After a while he just gave up and let her have her way. When they were done and the clerk had promised that the selected glasses would be ready in an hour, Gia said that she had an aunt of her own who worked in the mall. She asked if he would mind if they visited her while they waited, and he shrugged. Without being able to see he really didn't have anything else he could do anyway. The place she took him to turned out to be a beauty parlor called `The Blue Parrot', an establishment that even to Joe's inexperienced eye looked large and prosperous. The air inside was heavy with odors he wasn't familiar with, wet and warm scents like a mixture of fruits and flowers and chemicals. Music with a Latin beat was playing over a PA system, competing with the whir of electric dryers and the constant hum of females in full chat mode. Joe felt vaguely uncomfortable here, although he couldn't have said why, but a part of him was also extremely curious about this alien place. Mostly though he just wished that he had his glasses and could see what was going on. "Gia! Hey, pretty girl, come over here this minute. You haven't been by in forever, you know that?" An Hispanic looking woman with long blond hair and wearing a blue smock appeared, to sweep Gia up into a full embrace. Gia returned it with interest, and was smiling happily when they broke apart. "Aunt Jesse, you know I saw you only two weeks ago when you had me and Becka over for dinner. And I called you just last week to talk about exfoliants and conditioners, remember? Hey, where's Elvia, is she working today? I need to ask her a favor." "She's in back doing a customer, she ought to be done soon. And say, who is this handsome young fellow you've brought to my place? And why is he squinting at me like that?" "This is a friend of mine, Joe Munson. He's squinting because he's getting his glasses fixed today. Joe, this is my Aunt Jesseniah, she owns this place. And before you get your head thumped, I'm telling you right now not to call it a beauty parlor. It's a `styling salon'. Isn't that right, Aunt Jesse?" The older woman barked a laugh of pure merriment, then ruffled her nieces hair affectionately. "That's right, mija. Make that mistake and I'll have to hurt you. But I'm pleased to meet you, Joe. So how do you know my wayward niece here?" "Um, well we—" "Gia!" "Elvia!" Joe suddenly found himself completely ignored, as another woman in a blue smock arrived and commanded everyone's attention. The woman was holding her hands out to the sides, and Joe could see that she was wearing shiny plastic gloves, studded with bits of something that looked like sticky green oatmeal. She didn't try to hug Gia, but her greeting of the other girl was just as enthusiastic as Aunt Jesseniah's was. Although she was much smaller than the older woman and her hair was a mass of dark brown curls instead of blonde, Joe was pretty sure that he saw a family resemblance between the two, maybe even mother and daughter. His surmise turned out to be correct. "Joe, this is my cousin Elvia. Don't shake hands with her, that stuff will eat the flesh right off your bones." "Hey! Chica, I'll have you know that this herbal mask is made with all natural ingredients, and is guaranteed to leave your face clean and smooth as a baby's butt. So stop slandering me to this handsome young man, and tell me what you're doing here today. Are you finally going to let me bob all that Crystal Gale hair of yours?" "Not this time, Via. But I was really hoping you might have time for a quick shampoo. We're here to get Joe some new glasses, and it'll be at least an hour until they're done." "Sure, not a problem. You take that chair right there, while I get rid of these gloves." "Thanks, Via, I really appreciate it. Next time you need some babysitting for Miguel you can give me a call." "Ha! Sucker, you're going to regret that. Mickey just started teething, and I really need a night out. Kiss Tuesday night goodbye, cuz." Gia winced, but took it gracefully. Meanwhile Joe had already figured out that he was in for a long wait while Gia got her hair dressed, or whatever female thing it was that women do in these places. That at least was one good thing about living with Aunt Mattie, as far as he knew she had never been in a beauty parlor in her entire life. Excuse me, a `styling salon'. Now, as Gia was settling herself into the chair and letting her cousin tie a sheet around her neck (blue, to match the smocks) he sighed and was looking around for a place to sit, and spotted a small table with magazines on it surrounded by some chairs and a couch. He didn't bother to think about what kind of magazines a styling shop would have, because he couldn't read them anyway, not without his glasses— A strong hand with lacquered red nails gripped Joe's bicep, pulling him up short and steering him back towards the chairs. He blinked and found himself staring up at Gia's aunt. "Uhn uh, no way, handsome. No friend of my sister's family is going to sit around in my salon doing like a piece of furniture, especially not with their hair looking like that. You look like you've been barbered by my old shop teacher!" "Or the guy who trims our hedges every weekend" put in Elvia, who was already brushing out her cousin's long black tresses. Gia had her eyes closed and therefore wasn't looking, but from the barely withheld smile on her lips it was obvious she was taking in every word. Joe was just now beginning to feel the trap closing. Aunt Jesse still held his arm tightly with one hand, while with the other she was picking through his hair and examining it with a professionals eye. "Hmmm. Dry and lifeless, but otherwise it's pretty healthy. Still, we're going to have to do something about this texture. We'll start with a shampoo and condition, then maybe even a touch of color..." "W-wait, you can't. I mean, I don't have any money, I can't pay for this" Joe said, desperately. A quick glance over his shoulder showed him that the route to the door was wide open, and that if he could just get free from Aunt Jesse's hold, making a break for it would probably be successful. Unfortunately the deathgrip on his bicep seemed unbreakable, and all his other options had already disappeared. "Hey, did I ask you for money, mijo? And get that look off your face, I'm just going to cut your hair, not pull any teeth. Men, I swear! You get them into a chair and you'd think we were going to break out the thumbscrews. Hmmm, I wonder what you'd look like with some spikes?" * * * Twilight Zone. Yeah, that's what it was, it was just like watching an old episode of Twilight Zone, the black and white version on the oldies channel. The one where the guy with the hairlip comes on and says something like, "Submitted for your approval. Young Joe Munson, high school student, who until today always knew exactly who he was. Until, that is, he took an ill fated trip to the mall, and a side trip into... the Styling Zone." "Hey, are you done with that yet? I can't back this thing without it." Joe jerked, then gave Gia a sheepish look. She shook her head and grinned, then readjusted the rearview mirror of the Mustang. A few minutes later and they were flying down the highway, following Joe's directions to his friend Milo's house. Along the way neither of them said a word, but Gia kept shooting appraising glances at her passenger. Joe tried to ignore them for a long time, but when they finally pulled off the highway and stopped for a light he finally looked at her and said, "Will you stop that?" Gia tried to look innocent, but she wasn't fooling anybody. "Stop what, Joe?" "Stop looking at me and smirking, like you've just gotten away with something. You think I haven't figured out that you set this whole thing up?" "You did?" Gia blinked, really surprised this time. "Yeah, I did. Your aunt and cousin were waiting for us. And you and Becka probably broke my glasses on purpose, too, didn't you?" Now it was Gia's turn to squirm. The plan she had been so proud of suddenly didn't seem so clever. She looked at Joe, trying to see if he was mad at her or not, but before she could tell a horn beeped from behind to remind her that she was still on the road. She hastily put the vehicle back in gear and drove, but a block later she pulled to the side and parked. She licked her lips, then hesitantly tried to pick her words. "Joe, look, we didn't mean anything by—" "Don't" he said, interrupting her in mid sentence. "Don't say anything stupid, and don't apologize. That's what you told me this morning, isn't it? Look, I'm not mad, okay? In fact, I kind of like the way this turned out." Gia looked at him and saw that he was smiling, and then of a sudden they were both sharing the same big grin. Joe did look good, her Aunt Jesse had done a great job on him. So much so that it was hard to believe that this was the same boy she had come to know in the past week. The thick and unruly mop on his head had been carefully cut to about half it's length, the dry hair now rich and full and shining with health. It was dark brown, except for the top which had been colored blonde and styled into a field of short, spikey locks. The new style brought out the shape of his face, she thought, de-emphasizing the roundness that was the last touch of adolescent baby fat, and accenting his high forehead and cheekbones. And the new glasses with their golden frames were stylish and unobtrusive, showing off the startling gray of Joe's eyes. It made the small young man seem older, more sophisticated, turned him into someone who would be noticed in a crowd. "So you're not mad at us, then? You like the new look?" Joe nodded, but then changed it to a shrug. "I don't know, it's still pretty weird. I mean, I look into the mirror, and there's somebody different looking out. It's taking a while to get used to, but yeah, I like it. I think it makes me look cool. Don't you?" Gia barked out a short, sharp laugh, putting the car back into gear and pulling back onto the road with a roar. She let the tachometer climb a bit higher as she said, "Actually, I was gonna say you look hot!" Joe didn't stop grinning all the way to Milo's house.