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Tuck A Moment To Think -*- Copyright 2002 by Ellen Hayes.

Any resemblance between the writings in this work, and any actual
persons or places, living or dead, are purely coincidental, except when
used for satirical purposes.

This work contains adult situations, adult language, adult concepts, and
possibly sex.  If you are legally not allowed to read materials
containing such things, then you will be breaking the law by reading
this.  I am not responsible.
Continuing to read this document, or storing it or reproducing it
in any format means that you explicitly affirm that you are legally
allowed to possess and read such materials in your city, county/parish,
state, and country.

All rights reserved.  See the bottom for distribution rights.


Tuck A Moment To Think


***
09:09 2 Aug

     "Tuck," Amy complained, "you've gotta get up!"
     "WHY?!" I begged.
     "You have therapy this morning, remember?"
     I had never hated that woman as much as I did at this moment.

***
09:20 2 Aug

     "Huh?" I asked.
     "It's Mike," Amy said, "and he wants to talk to you right now, as
in right NOW," she insisted.
     I sighed and picked up the wimp phone.  "Mike, I gotta go real soon
and I'm not dressed yet-"
     "Yeah, that's why I'm calling.  Tuck, have you talked to your
headshrinker about Travis?"
     "What?  No!"
     "Why not?"
     "Because she's a spy for my parents and I don't want to tell my
parents yet, and certainly not through her!"
     Pause, while Amy decided that she either didn't want to hear this,
or had some business elsewhere, and left.  I made SURE she shut the door
behind her.
     "Tuck, if you don't trust her-"
     "Don't YOU start," I warned him.
     "This would be a good issue to test her on," Mike said.
     "What?!  WHY?"
     "Because, stupid, you can tell her part of it, like maybe you got
curious once, and then-"
     "That is the DUMBEST-"
     "Tuck, your parents could maybe deal with this easier-  Hey, claim
you're bisexual or something."
     "How-"
     "You could still have kids or something."
     "And this would help-"
     "Because, Tuck," he said slowly, as if I was the stupid one this
morning, "if you tell her, your therapist, not to tell your parents that
you're bi, then if your parents ask you about it, then you know that
she's not trustworthy and you can get another one, or something.  And
you can explain what she said to your parents some way or another, like
tell 'em you were just curious about it and she took it wrong or
something.  You know how your dad is about confidentiality and stuff."
     I got so mad I slammed the phone down.

***
09:24 2 Aug

     I finally finished tying my shoes up, and decided that if I didn't
answer the phone I was going to have a seizure, since it had been
flashing continuously for the last several minutes.
     "What?!"
     "Say it," Mike said.
     "Fine, you have a point," I muttered.
     "And don't forget to mention to your therapist what an asshole I
am," he grinned into the phone.
     "Shut up," I sighed, and then grinned myself.  "You asshole."
     "See?  Have a good headshrinking."
     "Yeah, thanks," I sighed.  I was still pretty pissed.  "Later."

***
09:28 2 Aug

     I was still seething as I came out the back door, check in hand,
and I was almost too upset to notice my sister's feet sticking out from
under her car.  Almost.
     Pause.
     I walked over and asked, "Susan?" and kicked one of her feet REAL
lightly, just enough to tell her I was there.
     "Tuck?" she asked.
     "Yeah?"
     "Is Mom or Dad around?"
     "No, but I can-"  I was interrupted by a stream of curses from
under the car as she shot out from underneath and then beside the car as
she sat up and pulled her tanker goggles off, planting her feet on the
ground on either side of the creeper.
     When she ran down and stopped pounding the driveway, I asked, "Uh,
not like it's any of my business or anything, but, what are you doing?
You okay?"
     Susan sighed and leaned back against a tire and ramp.  "My car
wouldn't fucking start yesterday, I had to borrow Dad's, and now I have
to pull the fucking starter out and repair or replace the damn thing
because Dad won't give me any money for it!"  She glared at me.
     "Oh," I said.  "Uh... good luck, eh?"
     She smiled at me, making me feel better.  Or at least less
panicked.  "Thanks," she said wearily, "I think I can get it eventually,
it's just a pain.  And I asked Dad if he'd do it, and he said he'd
charge as much as a garage would. And since I took auto repair class
back in high school, he thinks I remember all this stuff.  Where're you
going?" she asked, and I got all mad again.

***
09:57 2 Aug

     I had to admit, though, it really wasn't Sheila's fault I'd been
kidnapped yesterday after work.  That didn't seem like her MO at all.
It was just really irritating that I had to get up to go see her, after
last night.  And I was still really fucking exhausted.
     And Mike was an asshole.

***
10:04 2 Aug

     "You look tired," Sheila mentioned.
     I wish she hadn't, because it triggered a yawn that I thought was
going to dislocate my jaw.
     When I finished, I wiped my eyes and said, "Can we not mention that
again?"
     "Did you do something last night?"
     "Oh God-"  And then I had another yawn.  "Can't you ask me about my
feelings or something?" I asked a little desperately.
     She chuckled a little bit.  "You went out last night?"
     "Yeah, with some friends... we went, uh, out to get a haircut, and
then-"
     "A haircut?"
     "I don't know, the girls thought I needed one," I shrugged.
     "The girls, your friends?"
     "Yeah.  They keep on me about stuff like that.  They've decided
that they're in charge of my appearance, I guess," I sighed.
     "What else did you do?"

***
10:09 2 Aug

     "So you had fun?" she asked.
     I thought about it.  "Yeah, I guess."
     "You don't sound sure about that."
     "Well, I was sort of planning to go to bed early, since today we
have to do the pre-camping st-  Oh hell," I moaned.  "I still have to
prep my food for the trip."  Oh, gods.
     "And when is this?"
     "Uh, the trip is tomorrow, until, uh, next Sunday, I think," I said
slowly, trying to think.  "Five days worth of food, one day of fresh
stuff, one day of MRE's."  I thought hard as I rechecked, and nodded.
     "That's only seven days, though," she mentioned.
     "Well, first day, tomorrow, we eat breakfast at home, and then the
last day we eat breakfast on the trail then hurry to the showers and
when we get to the point we're not offensive any more, we go eat at a
restaurant at the lodge for lunch, and then go home and eat dinner."
     "Ah, okay," Sheila nodded.  "Are you looking forward to it?"
     "Um, sort of...  it's hard work, sometimes it hurts..."
     "Why does it hurt?" she asked before I could continue.
     "Uh... didn't we talk about this already?  It's heavy-duty hiking,
even if we-"  She was now nodding in recollection.  "Okay, so, even
though we'll be taking it pretty easy, it's still rough.  And I'm way
outta shape, too."
     "Why do you say that?"
     I chuckled.  "I haven't been riding my bike since last year
sometime."
     "Why not?"
     "The same reason most people use cars instead of bikes; cars go
faster, carry more, you have a roof and a heater and stuff..."

***
10:11 2 Aug

     "So when does your school start?" Sheila asked.
     "Too soon....  Um, the fifteenth we have orientation and stuff,
and, oh gods," I said as I remembered the Big/Little Brother/Sister
program shittake I'd have to go through.
     "What?"

***
10:13 2 Aug

     "You don't like the idea?"
     "When I was a freshthing, I got-"
     "Freshthing?"
     "Freshman, whatever!  Do you want to hear this or not?"
     "Yes, I do, actually," she said calmly.  "I just don't understand
the word you used.  Fresh-thing?"
     "It's... from a book," I semi-lied, "about a college campus, where
some of the students are definitely not human, so calling one a freshMAN
is even more discriminatory than it would be normally, because something
insectoid that's six feet tall with a green shell and eight legs might
object to being classified with the stinky primates."  I was sort of
mixing genres here, but I didn't think she'd realize that Thranx were
not especially native to the IOU universe.
     "Oh, okay," she nodded.
     *Or did Thranx have ten limbs?* I wondered.

***
10:15 2 Aug

     "But if they try to match the juniors with the fresh- with
fresh-things," she said, "with the same interests-"
     "And that's why I got a jock?"
     "Maybe it will go better this year."
     "And, maybe it won't."
     "You could always hope for the best," she offered with a smile.
     "I used to do that," I admitted, "before I realized that it's
better to plan for the worst and then anything better than the worst is
like a bonus."
     She thought about that.  "I suppose," she finally said.
     As if I was going to change philosophies to suit-
     "What classes are you taking?" she asked.

***
10:17 2 Aug

     "Cosmetology?" she asked.
     "Yeah, it's sort of like hairdressing and makeup and nails, stuff
like that.  Stuff you get at a salon."
     She nodded, like she'd heard of one in the distant past from
someone who'd been in the real world.  "Why are you taking it?  It
sounds like you'd be interested in something more technical?"
     Why was everyone asking me this?  "Because," I explained slowly,
"back when I was dating Debbie, she thought that it would help her
business if I could do things like that; I could do things she couldn't
at her makeup demos."
     "But, you broke up with her a while ago, didn't you?"
     "Yes, Sheila, I did," I sighed.
     "So-"
     "Because for one thing, I signed up for the class back when I was
dating her, and you really have to go through contortions to get out of
one once you sign up for it.  It's not worth it, and I need something
extra to give me enough credits to graduate anyway.  I run out of math
classes next year, I mean after this one, and I can't take any computer
ones because I already tested out of them already."  By getting banned
from the computer lab entirely based on what I'd done in ten minutes on
a dare.  Some people had no sense of humor... nor any concept that I
might be willing and able to undo anything I did.  "I already took basic
machine shop... I guess I could try something like Auto Body, but..."  I
shrugged.  The people that tended to take that, also tended to take
offense at my breathing and wanted me to stop.
     "Well, alright," Sheila said, "I can understand that you need more
hours to graduate.  But why take a hairdressing class?"
     "Why not?" I asked her back.  "Besides, two of my friends are in
it, and so, y'know..."  I shrugged again.
     She shook her head and me and asked, "No, what?"
     I hated it when she made me explain things like this.
     I thought about it, and finally said, "I like being with my
friends, and I don't think this is going to be a, uh, GPA-busting kind
of class, you know?  And it's nice being with my friends, having the
same classes with them and stuff.  So-  And my dad's right," I told her,
"when I get through it and get certified, I'll be able to get a job just
about anywhere in a pinch, right?  Hair is kind of hair and makeup's
makeup and nails are nails... and people need those things all the time,
I mean like it's not that optional, right?  Even in the Great Depression
people still needed haircuts at least.  Right?"
     She finally figured out I was awaiting input, because she nodded,
and then said, "You really have thought this out, haven't you?"
     "Well, kinda.  It's my dad's idea, about the trades thing," I
admitted.  "But I thought about this class before I signed up for it,
like for several days."  Admittedly, Debbie had been a lot more involved
in my life then than she was now, but it still made some kind of sense,
especially with Jill being the way she was about it.
     "It just seems unusual, with your interest in math and computers
and the sciences, that you would choose to take hairdressing," she
mentioned.
     "I guess I'm unusual," I smiled back at her.  We both knew I was a
completely un-natural freak of nature.
     "So who are you taking this class with?  Your friend Mike?"
     I'd mentioned him too much if she remembered his name.  "Couple of
female friends of mine.  They wanted me to stay in it too," I added.
     "Why?"
     "Because they like me, and 'cause it's easier to be in a class
with a couple of friends than alone, like I said."
     "Oh, okay," she nodded.
     She waited too long to mention something else, which I missed when
I yawned again, almost hard enough to break something.

***
10:22 2 Aug

     Sheila looked at me for a while without talking, which was kind of
a bad thing since it was harder to stay awake if she didn't talk.  If it
had been someone else, or something, I might have gone to sleep, but I
couldn't do that when I didn't feel safe, and I definitely didn't feel
safe in here.
     Sheila said, "Have you done anything about your medical problems,
that you haven't mentioned?"
     "Which-"  *Duh, stupid, she's not talking abut asthma here.*  "Oh,
uh, no.  I'm waiting until school starts."
     "Why are you waiting so long?  Wouldn't it be easier to deal with
over the summer?"
     "No?  Why would it be easier to deal with in the summer than during
school?" I asked back, puzzled.
     "You had a bad emotional reaction last time," she mentioned.
     "Yeah, but I... it was like I wasn't expecting anything, so it was
kind of a shock.  A BIG shock.  But I did my thinking," sort of, "and
now I'm better about it."  I definitely had a much better idea of who
would stick by me, which is most of my girl friends, plus Mike at least.
A lot better than I'd been afraid of.
     "How so?"
     I shrugged.  "I need to find out what exactly it is, and how far it
goes, and what I can do.  Same thing anyone with a chronic problem needs
to do."
     "When are you going to do that?" she pressed.
     "When, school, starts," I repeated slowly.
     "Why are you putting it off?" she asked.
     "A, I think it's bad luck if I go to a doctor and don't get out of
school for it.  It seems to make bad things happen.  And B, I don't need
to deal with THAT now, I need to deal with what I'm doing now."
     "What are you doing now?"
     "Working, getting ready to go on a hiking trip, stuff like that.  I
can deal with the medical implications when school starts."
     "When you're already stressed over the abuse you expect in school?"
I shrugged.  "Eugene, you can't run away from everything."
     Oh, God, I hated it when she didn't get it.  I tried to be patient
as I explained, "Sheila, I'm not really running away.  This is one of
the few summers I have left.  Once I get out of high school, that's it,
no more summer vacations, since I'll probably be taking summer classes
in college to get done faster."  Two degrees meant I'd have to take a
lot of classes, even if some of them overlapped and I passed out of some
others and took five years doing it.  "I don't want to ruin my vacations
with stuff like that; it can wait a few months, and it has, until school
starts and I have something to look forward to."
     "What are you looking forward to?"  Now she sounded intrigued.
     "Well, if I'm going to doctors during school, I'm not IN school
then, am I?  So I trade whatever sh-stuff I find out at the doctors'
places for the bad stuff I won't be getting in school that day.  It sort
of evens it out that way."
     "So, you're actually looking forward to it?" she asked.
     "Well, no," I admitted, "but it's a lot better doing it during
school, than it would be during my vacation."
     "What about absences?"
     "What about 'em?  I make sure I get doctor's notes, for skipping,
and then make sure I get the homework and stuff from other people.  It's
not like I'll be hanging out at the mall all day or something."
     She looked at me after that.
     "What?"
     "Is there something else there?"
     "Huh?"
     "It seems... rational, but not very emotional, and I would expect
this to be an emotional subject with you.  Are you sure there's not some
other feelings behind that decision, like being afraid of what you'll
find out?"
     "What could be worse?" I asked her.  "It's not like I'm going to
get cured or anything, I'll be a freak unt-"
     "That's not a nice word," she mentioned.
     "It's not a nice thing, and I really doubt other people will be
nice about it," I said.  "Besides, if I say it then other people can't."
     "Why can't they?"
     "Because it won't hurt any more, if they try and call me that, and
then if it doesn't bother me to be called a freak, what's the point in
bothering me with it?  It's like calling myself a geek or a nerd; it's
true enough, and if you use it yourself then people don't, I mean, it
doesn't work as an insult any more."
     She took some notes, and I rubbed my eyes.

***
10:27 2 Aug

     "You seem very tired today," she said.
     "I had a busy week," I reminded her.
     "Why didn't you go to bed earlier?  You've mentioned doing that
before when you were especially tired."
     "I didn't have the chance, since, uh..."  I counted backwards.
"Tuesday?"  *What happened-*  "No, Monday, I had Mike's birthyday party,
and-"
     "'Birthyday'?" Sheila interrupted.
     I grimaced at the memory that popped up, of Debbie saying that
exact word in an amused voice.  "Birthday, never mind.  Anyway, his
birthday Monday night... uh... I have to get up at six to go to work...
Sunday Jill had a spazz, and I got woken up early, and Mom made me go
hike a bit the night before, and..."  No wonder I was tired; it had been
a loooooong time since I got a good day's worth of sleep in.
     "You know," I said, "when school starts I think I'll be too busy to
go out and have fun, and then I can rest up," and grinned.
     She didn't smile, which made me wary.  "You seem to be pushing
yourself very hard this summer," she said.
     "I think it's just been the last week, really.  It's not like
babysitting is especially hard or anything."
     "Are you doing anything else?" she asked.
     She was pushing me this morning.  "Why," I asked, "are you pushing
me this morning?"
     "Because you start school in two weeks and I'm still worried about
your stability.  And there's a lot you're not telling me," she said
simply.
     "What do you want me to tell you?" I asked.
     "You're unusually tired, you seem like you're busy all the time,
and yet you're not sleeping, even though you say you know you need to,"
she said.  "And you talk very little about what is keeping you so busy.
There's something going on in your life, something big, and I think you
should try to resolve it before school starts.  Because," she continued,
"if you're going to wait until school to go to the doctors you need to,"
and it was plural, too.  *Gross.*  "Then I think you already have too
much to deal with, and added to whatever this other thing is, it could
all be too much for you."
     "You mean, you're afraid I'll run off and commit suicide?" fell out
of my mouth.
     "Yes, Eugene, I am," she admitted.
     "What more do you want?" I asked, irritated.  We'd been over the
topic of Suicide about a thousand times, and we'd spent three weeks on
why I wasn't going to sign a 'life pact', and she still wasn't happy
about that either.
     "I want you to tell me what's going on," she said, almost firmly.
     "Like what?  I mean, what do you think it is?" I asked, curious.
     "I want to know what you-"
     "Yeah," I interrupted, "I know, you want to hear something from me,
but I want to know what you guess it is."
     "I don't want to guess, Eugene."
     "Why not?"
     "Because it's important to talk about the truth."
     I thought about that, and then I sort of remembered or heard Mike
talking to me this morning.
     "Yeah, you could say that, I guess," I smiled grimly.
     "So, what happened to your wrist?" she asked, and I looked down to
find that I had rubbed the bandaid off, leaving the butterfly strips
visible.
     Oops.
     I looked at her, and said, "I failed to talk about the truth with
someone I had promised to be truthful with."
     "And they cut you?" she guessed.
     "No!  Jeez, sometimes..."  I trailed off.
     "What?"
     "Sometimes you're an idiot," I popped off.
     She stopped for a moment, which made me feel good for an instant
even though I'd been stupid again by saying it, then agreed, "Sometimes,
I suppose I am.  Could you explain it to me?"
     I thought about it, then realized I was too tired-stupid to think
well, so I got up and whapped my head a few times into the door, which
raised my body's awareness and gave me some more volts to run through
the brain.  Or sugar, or something.  I just knew it worked.
     "What was that for?" she asked as I sat back down.
     "I need to wake up a little more," I said.
     "That's an odd way to do it," she commented.
     "Sheila, I am a pretty damned odd person, 'kay?" I reminded her.
"I know you deal with a lot of teens and stuff, but I am not like most
of them.  That's part of the problem."
     "Why do you say you're not like them?"
     "Because the usual shit doesn't work on me."
     "But you ARE a teenager, and you do have some things in common with
other people your age," she said before I could interrupt, "like the
change in self-identity you're going through."
     Then I derailed.  "I-  Wh-  Huh?  Change in identity?"  I was glad
I was sitting down.
     "Part of the 'times' of adolescence is that you change your
perceptions of who you are, sometimes drastically," she said.
     "Oh," I said, feeling an actual wave of relief fall over me, cool
and wet-feeling.  I wished, then, that I was swimming with the boys and
Stella instead of in here...

***
10:33 2 Aug

     I'd missed some of whatever she was lecturing on, but it wasn't
important.  "So," I said, "okay, so my self-identity is changing.  So?"
     "So, it's often a time of changing your self-image, away from
the... the mythology, if you will, of childhood, and towards whatever
reality you find yourself in."
     "Mythology?"
     "We're all told many things as children which we later find out are
not true," she explained.  "Santa Claus is an obvious example, but there
are a lot of self-image ones.  You're dealing with one right now, that
you're not sometime going to 'bulk out' and be a traditionally ultra-
masculine looking male."
     That was true and depressing.
     "So what else is changing, in your self identity?" she asked.
"What's not going the way you expected it to go?"
     I laughed.  "Nothing?"
     "Like what, Eugene?" she asked, again sounding almost serious about
it.
     "Well, shit.  The body thing, the job I've got, the cosmetology
class I'm taking, the number of girls I hang out with... my whole life?"
     "There's more than that."
     "Why do you assume that?"
     She sighed, and sat back in her chair.
     We looked at each other for a while.
     "Eugene, I don't know why you come here," she said eventually.
     "What?  Because I have to.  Didn't we go over this before?"
     She ignored that.  "Apparently you think I'm... not very good at my
job."  I didn't, but that was besides the point.  "I noticed that you
went almost white when I mentioned a change in identity, and then you've
been flushed and acting relieved after everything else I said.  Know
what that tells me?  It tells me that there is something there,
something that you would agree is a drastic change in self-identity for
yourself, and furthermore one you don't want me to know about, and I
haven't even come close to it in the last several minutes.  And now
you're flushing again," she observed.  "So you know you've been 'caught'
as it were."
     There were plenty of times I desperately wished I could edit my own
device drivers and remove stuff like this, or put it under software
control, but it hadn't happened yet.
     "Don't you?" she pressed.
     Eventually, I managed, "Yer outta yer mind."
     "No, Eugene, I'M not out of MY mind," she countered.
     "Are you saying I'm crazy?"
     "I don't like that term," she said, "but which one of us has a
slice on their wrist, Eugene?"
     "That's different!"
     "Is it?  Or is it, that you broke a bond of trust with a friend,
because you didn't want to tell them, that you'd found out something in
yourself that you didn't want them to know about?  Something you thought
they would... stop liking you for?  Something they'd blame you for?
Something... something that neither you nor they expected to happen?"
     I decided to concentrate on breathing for a while, since it seemed
like that wasn't working too well either at the moment.
     "Something," she said, damnably calm as she ripped my balance
apart, "that changes your entire perception of who you are?"
     If I didn't know Mike, I'd think he called her and told her what
was going on.  As it was, I was half scared that Mike was reading the
future and had predicted this was going to happen today.
     I had just about gotten my breathing even and calm again, going
deeper to compensate for the demands of the turbocharger, when she said,
"See?  Maybe I'm not quite so oblivious?  I'd hoped that you'd talk
about it yourself, but I'm willing to help you with a little push."
     I was glad it had been a 'little' push; I think one of would have
died from a 'big' one.
     "Okay," I breathed.  "You want to know?  Swear this doesn't get to
my parents.  Or anyone else."
     She thought about that for a moment.  "As long as it doesn't
involve you harming yourself or others."
     I thought about that myself, then shook my head.  "Uh uh.  That's
too broad."
     "What's too-"
     "Sheila, by that criteria, if I say I had some alcohol you can tell
them, since alcohol is both illegal and dangerous.  Despite the fact
that we have wine with dinner sometimes.  I don't want you to decide to
tell them based on 'self-destructive' or harming others or anything like
that, because you could justify just about anything with that loophole."
     She looked at me for a while, so I glared back.  "Am I," she asked
eventually, "supposed to rely on your judgement as to what's actually
self-destructive or not?"
     "Why not?" I asked.  "I'm not dead yet?"
     "Eugene, I can't-  I ethically cannot agree to something like
that," she said, looking strangely pained.
     "Why not?"
     "Because, most teens who are suicidal are, well, not thinking
right," she said like a normal person, which was kind of weird.  "I know
the arguments for euthanasia, but we're not talking about children with
terminal diseases, Eugene!  And I can't ethically just, just, I can't
give up using my best judgement on one of my patients, especially when
dealing with their immediate continued survival!"  She looked agitated
at that, which was surprising too.
     I thought about it for a while, and then had a solution pop up.
"Okay... how about I sign a life pact, and then you sign it agreeing
you're not going to break confidentiality at all, except in the actual
knowledge that I'm going to directly harm myself, and then you agree to
talk to me about it first, before you call the cops or something?"
Sometimes I amazed myself with my brilliance.
     She thought about that for almost a minute.
     "Will you," she asked slowly, "sign it in blood?"
     I literally almost fell out of the chair at that.  "Uh..." I
remarked eventually, when I could find my tongue again.
     "I will if you will," she said.
     "Uh.  How about marking the signature with blood?" I asked.
"Actually writing in blood is really hard."
     "You sound like you've done it before," she said, with a slight
smile.
     I showed her my wrist, which wiped that right off her face.

***
10:47 2 Aug

     We'd come to an agreement on the wording of the new contract, she'd
gone somewhere and gotten a standard box of single-edged razor blades,
alcohol prep pads, and a sharps container as I'd printed it out, and it
was now coming out of the laser printer in her office while I started to
sweat.
     On account of, I hated pain, and I hated bleeding, and I'd just
agreed basically to reach out and grab a bit of both of 'em.
     It came out, she signed, I read over it again completely and then
I signed, and then she handed me the prep pad.  I opened it and cleaned
a finger and she did the same thing, then I took the box and got one
blade.  Then I took a breath and sliced.  And the room spun around me.
     I managed to stay upright long enough to drop my razor blade in the
sharps box, watch Sheila do the same thing with her blade, and then I
swore the binding over it.
     "The blood is the soul, the soul is in the blood," I said, and
grabbed her finger with my other hand and pressed it over her signature,
doing the same thing with my own bleeding finger.  "The soul of this
agreement is in our blood, marked by our blood, and we shall hold to
this agreement like we hold to our blood.  Paid now in blood, dissolved
only in fire, and rupture of the blood shall be paid in blood.  So be it
done."
     "Amen," Sheila agreed.
     I stuck my finger in my mouth where I wouldn't bleed over
everything and then managed to make a crash-landing on the floor I could
walk away from, when I could walk again.

***
10:53 2 Aug

     "Eugene?" she asked, and I opened my eyes to find Sheila looking at
me, upside down from my perspective.  Luckily, she didn't twirl around
after that, or I might have thrown up.  "Are you okay?"
     "Yeah," I breathed.  "I don't like seeing my blood."
     "Then..."  She trailed off in confusion.  Her face looked REALLY
funny from this angle, as she looked towards her desk and then back down
at me, and it made me smile a little, because I was half delirious.
"Does the, uh, upsetting nature, make it more binding?"
     "No... words are way too easy to say, or write; I could always
claim it was a forged signature or something; but blood's... blood is
REAL."  I closed my eyes and breathed for a while.
     "This is what you went through last week?" she asked.
     "Oh, no," I said, and managed a grin; I'm sure it looked sick,
because I felt sick.  "This is a mild oath."
     Then I realized something and opened my eyes so I could look at
her.  She was still looking down at me, like she was going to spit on
me.  "Sheila, why do you have razor blades in your office?  Do you swear
a lot of blood oaths?"
     Eventually, she said, "There's a number of reasons, most of them
dealing with other patients who don't want it known what they are doing
any more than you do."
     "Oh."  I decided that I should drop this.
     Pause.
     "Would you like a bandaid?" she asked, and I nodded.

***
11:00 2 Aug

     "Uh," I said, and pointed at the clock.  "Don't I have to go?"
     "I don't have anyone for the next hour," she said.  "And, we swore
that oath together so you could feel safe in telling me something.  I'd
prefer to hear it now, if I could."
     I took a breath.  "I think I'm bisexual," I said before I could
think about it more.
     "Why do you think that?" she asked, which was such a normal Sheila
comment that I fell out of my chair laughing.  I don't know why it was
so funny...

***
11:04 2 Aug

     "Um," I said when I got back into the chair, when I could control
myself again.
     "Why do you think you're bisexual?" she asked again, smiling at me.
     I sighed, because I was very very tired and I really wanted to lie
down and go to sleep for a few days.  "Because, Sheila, I met a guy, and
I... I really like him, and, and, we've had sex, and I like it."  And
now I was blushing too, and I couldn't look at her.
     "Well, that sounds pretty definite," she agreed.  "Did you just
meet him recently, or is he an old friend of yours?"
     "Uh, I met him last year..."  I wasn't ready to tell her
everything, but Mike was right, and a Blood Oath ought to compensate for
the stuff I was telling her.

***
11:19 2 Aug

     "Eugene?" she asked, when we'd sort of run out of stuff to talk
about.  I sort of wondered why she'd pushed the safe sex thing so hard,
but maybe people still didn't get it.  I could probably survive my
parents hearing all this gay stuff, but if Dad thought I was having
unsafe sex with someone that I wasn't completely serious with - as in
married - I think he'd chop off the various pieces I might have used.
Assuming Mom or Doc Treble didn't rip 'em out before he got there.
     "Uh huh?"
     "You look like you're running out of energy," she said.
     "Uh huh," I agreed.
     "So, I thought maybe you could go home and get a little rest before
your camping trip, and we can talk more when you get back?"
     "Okay?"
     "And, Eugene?" she said.
     "Yeah?"
     She thought for a minute.  "I don't," she said, "think any less of
you as a person, nor am I 'freaked out' by it or anything.  One of the
things I deal with, professionally, is gay and lesbian teens, so I see a
lot of it.  And, I think you're actually handling it pretty well," she
said.
     "Really?"
     "Pretty well," she repeated.  "So, see you in two weeks?"
     "Uh huh," I agreed.
     "Be careful on your trip," she said as she got up.

***
11:40 2 Aug

     "Eugene," Mom called as I came in the door, stopping my heart.
     "We need to talk to you about the next school year," Mom added.
"And your schedule and your chores."
     My heart twitched and lurched for a while.
     "Mom!" I complained when I could get my breath back, because I'd
just gotten done with 'talking' and I wasn't in the mood for any more,
"Not NOW!"
     "NOW, Eugene," she ordered.
     I stood still for a while, until I didn't want to beat her with a
stick any more, at least not too much, and then followed her.

***
11:44 2 Aug

     "That's fourteen hours a day with travel time!" Mom realized.
     "I know!  I figured that out already.  I can handle it," I assured
them.  "Especially since I get to do my homework when I'm babysitting.
I asked already, and it's okay.  AND," I told Mom, "we also discussed
how much of their chores I can do too, which is 'none on a regular
basis' so they know where those limits are, too."  Mom looked mildly
displeased, I guess at the thought that I'd already taken care of her
next lecture topic and she no longer had an excuse to deliver it.
     "You know your chore money is going to about disappear, right?" Dad
pointed out.
     "Yeah, but, I mean, this way I do get paid to do my homework and
cook, and paid better than I get here, ahem."  Dad's rate of five
dollars an hour was inflexible.  Too bad for him and Mom, because the
presence of me doing chores was also about to disappear, ha ha ha.
"Besides, Dad," I said, "you know as soon as I graduate from high
school, Mike and I are going to hijack a missile submarine and become
pirates and evil overlords, remember?"
     "Eugene!" Mom chuckled in her you-are-being-silly voice.
     "Yo-ho-ho and nuclear extortion," Dad agreed.  "Just make sure to
steal an American or British one, son; avoid them Russian ones.  They
look like great deals, but..."
     "Well, duh!  Everyone knows that!"
     "What was the point of bringing that up," Mom sighed, not impressed
by our clever plans.
     "Because," I said, "it's not going to be ALL that long until I move
out myself, like Suze.  And then it's just you and Dad and the runt."
     "Eugene," Mom warned.
     "Sorry, that was uncalled for," I lied.  "But even if he's Brian,
Brian the Magnificent, he's still going to be the only one here, once I
move out.  And, that day is coming soon, within two years and probably
sooner."
     "Oh, Eugene," Mom sighed, and hugged me for no discernible reason
at all.  I looked at Dad, and he didn't look like he had a clue either.

***
11:50 2 Aug

     We had finally settled that I had some clue as to what I was doing,
especially since domestic slavery for better pay was a better thing than
staying at home and doing it for less money.  I didn't call it slavery
out loud, though; I knew better.  Even this tired.
     "And, about this laptop you mentioned," Dad brought up.
     "Yeah, I know," I said preemptively, since we'd had this discussion
about semi-annually since I saw a Radio Shack Model 100 way back in the
distant past.  Hope sprang eternal.  "But I was going to buy it with my
OWN money," I said.  The stunned look Dad gave me told me I had made
some kind of serious error.  "What?"
     "Uh," he mumbled, then firmed up.  "What kind of laptop were you
thinking about?"
     "What were YOU thinking?" I shot back.
     Dad sighed, "Sarah..." as Mom started chuckling.
     Mom said, "We were-"
     "Sarah!" Dad complained.
     "Shush, Bill!  Eugene, we were going to trade you a small laptop
for-"
     "Small?" I asked.
     "Eugene!" Mom said to get me to be quiet.
     I primed, "Okay, small laptop..."
     "If you keep cooking Sunday dinner," Mom continued.  "And help me
more with Thanksgiving this year.  And in payment for all the cooking
you've already done over the summer."
     Realizing that I had just in effect given up a free laptop, or at
least the free part, I locked up with a stuttered, "Dd-d-d-d-d-d-" as
Dad laughed.
     "Bill, since we agreed to do this," Mom said to Dad, "it's not fair
to charge him-"
     "But he offered first!" Dad said, sounding like Ricky.
     "Billlllll," Mom said in a tone I used myself on a daily basis.
     "Halfsies?" I suggested.  "I pay half you pay half?"
     "Of what?" Dad squinted suspiciously at me.  "How much?"
     "Jeez, if I'm paying half YOU don't need to get your panties in a
knot ab-"
     "Eugene!" Mom gasped in shock.
     "Uh, well, you know what I mean, I didn't mean it like that,"
except I did.  Just, not quite that way.  "But, I mean, if I pay half
then you only have to match what I put in, right?" I asked Mom.
     "That sounds fair," Mom said, and I almost danced because I just
about had a laptop.  Likewise, Dad looked like he wanted to cry.  One of
the general laws of parental behavior was, once you got one of them on
your side, the other one was almost certain to crumble.  And Dad looked
crumbled already.

***
12:04 2 Aug

     As I left, hoping that I'd have nothing more to deal with than the
upcoming Bataan Death March and preparations thereunto, Amy motioned me
towards her.
     "Oh, no, please, not another problem!" I whined uncontrollably as I
backed instinctively into a wall.
     Amy said, "Shut up, Tuck, I was just reminding you about the..."
She made indications of a hat, above her head even, but it took me a
while before I realized what she was talking about, and relaxed.
     "Oh.  Yeah, that'd be keen, ye-  Don't you need some help though,
with all the food?"
     She took in and let out a breath.  "We really did get most of it
done yesterday.  We just have a little left, relatively, and Aunt Sarah-
your mom, I mean-"
     "I remember her name," I grinned.
     "She's helping some too.  Mostly just the fresh stuff for the first
day, like the gyoza.  But you need to do yours, Uncle Bill said.  'Let
Tuck do his own,' he said, 'He needs the practice.'"
     "Oh, gods, that bastard," I said under my breath.  Trying to steal
my laptop and now-
     "And for a SLIGHT fee," Amy grinned, "I'll do it for you instead."
     "I bought you those pants and stuff," I reminded her.  "I'll take
off fifteen dollars from-"
     "Thirty."
     "You're nuts!  Twenty!"
     "Twenty five."
     "Twenty," I insisted.  "It wouldn't take me more than two hours
anyway."
     We glared at each other for a while, then Amy agreed, "Twenty," and
we shook on it.

***
14:16 2 Aug

     After a lot of work, some almost trivial blood loss that hadn't
even made me sick, and some scraps of things that Dad had around, I had
finished cobbling together a rather-
     "Eugene!" Mom called as she knocked.  "Come down, we're going to
talk about supper!"
     "Ha ha, too late, I'm finished already," I babbled quietly to
myself as I hid the thing under the covers of my bed.  It wasn't secure
that way, but the door lock would keep out Brian at least, and it wasn't
all that important anyway.

***
14:19 2 Aug

     "Nooooo," I insisted.  "I'm going to be cooking with Dana that
first day or so, remember?  So's Amy.  Get Susan to do it."
     "Noooooo!" Susan whined.  "I've been doing car work all day!"  And
hadn't showered yet either, I noticed.  "Get Amy to-"
     "I cooked ALL yesterday for the trip!" Amy countered.
     "AS did I," Brian inserted, just in case I suppose, "as did Dave
and Tim, all day."  Those two looked relieved as they nodded.  "Make
Tuck do it."
     "_I_ cooked twice yesterday, sitting, and worked all week, worm-"
     "Eugene!  Come on, guys!" Mom whined at someone, I wasn't sure who.
"I have to do two more showings today!  I don't have time!"
     "I could cook," Dad said, and we all screamed.
     It was to my mind inexplicable.  Give Dad a real kitchen, with
running water, double sinks, copper-bottomed pots, a wide and diverse
set of instruments, four burners, two ovens, a microwave, and a recipe
with more than four steps or ingredients, and he could be counted on to
bungle it somehow, unless you stood over him and supervised him every
second, which was more tiring than actually cooking it yourself.
     Give him half a dead vertebrate, some wood, a lighter, two random
cans of vegetables, an empty coffee can, and a couple of hours to forage
around in the woods, and he'd come up with the best stuff you ever
tasted.
     Barbecue came up on the positive side, but he shouldn't be allowed
to marinate the meat or make a sauce without supervision.
     I didn't think I'd ever figure it out.
     While Dad was pouting, and Brian's friends were looking rather
stunned, Brian suggested, "Fast food, dudes."
     All eyes turned to Mom, since she was the one that always whined
about 'healthy' and so on.  She thought about it, then took a deep
breath and nodded agreement, or permission, or submission, or something.
     Then the argument about WHICH fast food place started.

***
14:28 2 Aug

     "Wake me up for dinner?" I begged.  "I NEED a nap!"
     "Since you're going to get the food, okay," Susan smiled at me.
     "Suze!" I complained.  Someone would have to go three different
places, and I didn't want it to be me.

***
17:26 2 Aug

     I woke up to find that Amy had crawled over me while I was sleeping
and I hadn't woken up.  "Oh, god," I said softly, remembering that I had
to get up and get fast food for a bunch of people.

***
17:38 2 Aug

     "Why me?" Mike complained as he didn't go back out to his car.
     "Because A, you came over at the wrong time, B you have to stay
here tonight anyway," due to a certain incident a long time ago, "C no
one is cooking and we're all very hungry at this point, and D we're
paying for yours so shut up.  And E we can fit the cooler in your back
seat easily."  'Cooler' was a bad word, but 'insulator' wasn't the sort
of thing to catch on.  Either way, it'd keep the food warm on the trip.
     "I don't have to pay for it?" he confirmed.

***
17:42 2 Aug

     As Mike started the car and we drove off towards the first place,
he asked me, "Did you talk to your therapist today?"
     "Oh, yeah," I sighed.  "I had to get her to sign a first order
blood oath over confidentiality, though."
     "You WHAT?"
     "Just to be sure," I said.  "Mike, she was really guessing close to
what was going on, it was uncanny.  You, you didn't call her last night
or this morning or something, did you?"
     "Oh, sure," he said in a sarcastic tone, which meant 'No'.  "I just
looked in the phone book under 'Therapist, Tucker' and called the
listing there.  Tuck, I don't even know her name," he reminded me.  "You
told her everything?"
     "No... just the gay thing."
     "So she doesn't know-"
     "Anything about me having two working identities now, no," I
finished for him.  "But she knows about my physical problems.  I think
Doc Treble's got a one way line in, to brief her on that.  I think," I
said, not being entirely sure.
     "And nothing outbound, right?"
     "Better not be, she said unless she has real evidence about me
being, uh..."  I concentrated.  "'Actively and immediately seeking to
directly harm myself', as opposed to things like self-sacrifice or
retributive strikes or something.  I mentioned those specifically as
exceptions.  Anyway, unless that, the oath says she keeps quiet under
all circumstances."
     "What about under subpoena?" Mike asked.
     "She wouldn't agree to that one, she said she couldn't and she
wasn't willing to go to jail as a matter of principle that wouldn't stop
anything.  I can't blame her, really...  so I keep that access locked,"
I replied.  "I didn't think she would anyway, but if she gets subpoena'd
I'm already really heartily screwed.  And most of what I need her help
on is emotional and social stuff, not..."
     "True," Mike agreed.
     "Anything legal," I finished anyway.
     "So what did she say?"
     "She said... she said she was cool with it, with me, and that I was
handling it, uh, 'pretty well'."
     "She said that?"
     "Yeah, she did... I think she was thinking about other people,
though, she went into safe sex for a while-"
     "Which-"
     "Of COURSE!" I insisted.  "I... I really don't want to contribute
to AIDS research from that end."  He chuckled a little and slapped my
shoulder in approval.  "Anyway, uh... that and things like parents and
religion and stuff, I think."
     "Who picked her out?"
     "What, for me?  Dana and Mom and Dad, all three.  So you KNOW she's
pretty liberal socially," I mentioned, and Mike nodded agreement.  "I
guess we talk more next week."
     "As usual," he grinned.
     "So how come you called today, and told me to talk to her?" I
asked.
     Mike sighed.  "Tuck," he started.  "You're starting school in two
weeks," he ignored my groan of pain, "and that's not your favorite place
to be.  Medical-problem-wise, you haven't gone anyplace except Doc
Treble's since April, and so you're waiting like you do with the dentist
and stuff, until school starts."  I nodded at that.  "Okay, knowing
these things, and suspecting that for one thing you hadn't told her
everything, for another that you were giving off some signs of
concealing something, which I knew you were and I'm not a therapist-"
     "You're a fucking mutant telepath-"
     "That's besides the point," Mike waved away my objection.  "And for
a third thing, you find school stressful.  That's about two too many
things for someone to think you can deal with.  And you're not going to
be there next weekend, either.  So it was going to be either now, or
wait until you're IN school, to mess your head up some.  Which she felt
she had to do."
     "Why?"
     "If you were stable, she's thinking, you wouldn't have run off for
a few days back in April?" he reminded me.  "If you're completely clean,
then what's worth hiding from her, like you've been doing?  Stuff like
that.  And I'D rather do it today, then while you're in school and
vulnerable."
     "You ever considered going into the therapy biz yourself?"
     Mike laughed and laughed at that.

***
17:47 2 Aug

     "I wish these fuckers would learn to drive," Mike implored.  "You'd
think they'd know better than to joust with a dinosaur."  A ton and a
half of old Detroit steel would beat any modern personal vehicle.  To
death.
     "That assumes that they want to keep their pathetic lives," I said.
     "Yeah, but, jeez, I think that last one was reprogramming his
Newton or some-"
     "OOOOOOH!" I almost screamed, "MIKE I'm getting a laptop I'm
getting a laptop I'm getting a laptop," I sang.
     "You WHAT?" Mike complained.  "I thought your dad said he'd die
before he gave you one!"
     "Mom zombified him a long time ago, he's undead, I'm getting a
laptop laptop laptop," I chorused, unable to keep from bouncing up and
down in the seat.  I was still delirious with fatigue.
     "Stop singing or I'll pop you one," Mike promised.  "What are you
getting?"
     "Dunno yet," I admitted.  "But they were gonna pay me for Sunday
dinners, right?  Finally.  Mom and Dad said that they were going to give
me a free cheap one, but since I brought it up first," I said.
     Mike interrupted, "Oh, MAN," sounding grieved because he knew my
Dad too.
     "No, wait, Mom MADE him go halfsies on one," I grinned, and started
singing again, "I'm getting a laptop laptop laptop-"
     Mike boffed me in the head with one hand as he continued driving
with the other one.  "So-"
     "Dunno yet, gonna do some shopping around, see what I want," I
explained.  "Maybe pick up a Computer Shopper and take it on the march?"
     "Little light reading?"
     "Lighter than a printout would be," I pointed out.  "And I might
take a razor blade to it, cut out the pieces I need."
     "Good idea.  Speaking of ideas-"
     "Nooooo!  Not another one!  We don't have time!"
     "Shut up, Tuck, this one's GOOD.  And I already have everything set
up already.  Already, in case you didn't catch it the first two times."
     I looked at him suspiciously.  "What?"

***


I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.


Distribution:
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+ ==[--------   Ellen Hayes   @>--,--'---      ellen@barkingduck.net +
PGP DH/DSS keyfing: 33D4 156A AE39 53E2 0313  6714 2878 56A8 61B0 9CDC
+ http://www.barkingduck.net/ehayes -=[1990]=- vicki .sig virus 11.4 +


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