Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2023 09:14:37 -0500 From: Samuel Stefanik Subject: From Whence I Came. Chapter 42 Everyone pitches in to help deal with Joe, but they all seem to miss the mark. Eventually, Church has to intervene on his own behalf. Let's see how he does. Also, during this chapter, Bem asks Mary a question. I wonder what she'll say. I hope you enjoy this installment! Drop me a line if you want. I'd be happy to hear from you. If you're younger than 18 or find these kinds of stories offensive, please close up now and have a great day! If you are of legal age and are interested, by all means keep going. I'll be glad to have you along for the journey. Please donate to Nifty. This is a great resource for great stories and a useful outlet to authors like me and readers like you. Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips 42 Telling Instead of Asking We went back to Joe's by way of the neighborhood park to kill time. Shawn and I pushed the girls on the swings and propelled them on the little merry-go-round. Andy chatted our ears off with questions about Solum. Between his questions, Shawn and I talked about Joe and other things. When it got hot, as noon approached, we returned to the house. I held the front door for everyone and followed them into the house. I shut the front door against the heat of the day as I went in. The twins romped around the living room, still not burned out from the hours spent running around, both at Eager Ebert's playground, and at the park we'd just left. Since trying to silence them was pointless, I let them make all the noise they wanted. I passed through the living room and into the kitchen for a glass of water and to make a fresh pot of coffee. As I moved toward the coffee maker, I glanced through the opening in the wall from the kitchen to the sunroom. I noticed Joe sitting on the wicker couch in the other room. He glanced at me, and our eyes met. Joe pretended he didn't see me. I wished him a polite `good morning' and received a grunt in reply. I ignored Joe's lack of acknowledgement because I didn't want to start something with him. I was certain that Bem and Mary hadn't been awake yet to confront him about anything and I'd promised Bem that I'd let them handle it. Instead of addressing Joe, I drank a glass of water from the sink tap, made a pot of strong coffee, brimmed a mug and leaned against the kitchen counter to drink it. I thought I understood Joe a little better after Shawn and I talked at the park. "Think about it," Shawn had premised his explanation, "the episode with the paintings reminded him of all the childhood dreams he had stuffed in that closet. As long as they were in there, they were safe. We came here and dragged them all out in front of him. We pulled the scab off everything he never accomplished. We destroyed his stability...his safety if you will." "Your brother," Shawn went on, "he's scared and he's clinging to his faith because he doesn't have anything else to hold onto. Joe can't stand on his status as a homeowner, a lawyer, or a member of the church because, on Solum, he won't be any of those things. On top of that, Andy came out as homosexual and started spending time with you...identifying with you. You and Andy have fun together. When was the last time you think that boy had fun with his father?" Shawn had shaken his head and helplessly shrugged his shoulders. "He thought he had it figured out, then we showed up and tossed his whole life up in the air. The only shred of what Joe thought he had figured out, is his faith. He's holding onto it like a drowning man would a life preserver." The words had made sense when Shawn had said them, and made more sense the more I thought about them. Fear was not one of the emotions I usually associated with Joe, but the logic Shawn had laid out was reasonable, therefore I assumed it was correct. I was mulling it all over again and drinking my coffee when I felt Shawn coming to join me. I looked up from my cup to see that he was just passing the stairs as he moved toward the kitchen doorway. Sudden shouts from Mary's bedroom shattered the relative quiet of the house. Shawn changed course, leapt up the stairs, and yanked Mary's bedroom door open to see what the matter was. I was a couple steps behind him as I had to set my scalding coffee down before I climbed the steps. By the time I got to Shawn, he'd shut the door again and had his back against it. "Everything is fine." He insisted. "How can they be fine?" I demanded. "What was all that racket? Get out of the way so I can check." "You don't want that." Shawn warned. "I promise everything is fine." "WHAT'S GOING ON IN THERE?" I demanded again. "JUST LISTEN TO ME!" Shawn shouted. The volume surprised me enough that I listened. "Hold your arms straight out in front of you." "What is this, the fucking hokey pokey?" "JUST DO IT!" Shawn shouted again. I held my arms out and Shawn issued more instructions. "Now, hold your left hand with your right, right palm to left back of the hand." I did as I was told. Shawn stepped inside the hoop I'd made and pulled my arms down, so my hands were against his back. "Now, move lower until your hands slip below my ass and lift me up." Once again, I did as I was told, but wondered where all his instructions were leading. Shawn had me fine-tune the height of the lift until he was just tall enough to look down at me. He grabbed my face and kissed me with his tongue. "Now, let me down." He instructed after he broke the kiss. I set him on his feet and asked him what the hell all that was about. Shawn explained. "That's what is happening in there, only Bem is holding Mary up and they're both naked." I set a grateful hand on my husband's shoulder. "I'm sorry for doubting you. You may have just saved my life, or at least whatever mental health I'll have left after this trip." Shawn still had his back to the door, and I was facing it when the knob rattled and the door swung inward. "OH MY GOD!" I shouted and hid my eyes with my hands. "I'M ENGAGED!" Mary shouted. "CHURCH, SHAWN, I'M ENGAGED!" Shawn pulled on my hands like he wanted me to uncover my face. I lowered my hands and opened my eyes. Mary was embracing Shawn like she wanted to squeeze his insides out. She was dressed in Bem's fatigue T-shirt and her own pajama pants. "What do you mean?" Joe demanded from the bottom of the steps. He hadn't bothered to check on the initial shouts, but it seemed that the engagement announcement got his attention. Andy had also come out of his room and stood in the hallway to stare at his aunt and Bem. "Bem and I are going to be married!" Mary shouted. "Church, I'm so happy!" She hugged and kissed me and ran downstairs to do the same with Joe. Bem came out of the bedroom. He was shirtless, his hair was a mess, and he wore a pair of grey cloth shorts that clung to his body in such a way that made me believe there were no underwear beneath them. Bem looked very rumpled, a little sheepish, and more than a little proud of himself. "She said yes." He announced unnecessarily. "I gathered." I grinned at him and slapped his back in congratulations. "Good for you." Mary bounded up the stairs, grabbed Bem, and kissed him hard enough to make me blush. "I don't know if I agree with this." Joe spluttered angrily from the bottom of the stairs. I used my magic to force Joe's mouth closed. I lifted my brother and propelled him through the house and into the back yard. I ran out with him, set him on his feet, and sealed us both in a box. The box severed my connection with Shawn. The sensation of being separated was jarring, but I forced myself to focus on Joe and his anger instead of my link with Shawn. Joe went right back to yelling when I released his mouth. "DON'T DO THAT AGAIN!" He pointed an angry finger in my face and shouted, his face violet and his neck straining with rage. "WHAT DOES SHE MEAN SHE'S GETTING MARRIED? IS SHE CRAZY? SHE DOESN'T KNOW HIM! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM! SHE CAN'T MARRY HIM!" "It's not your business, Joe." I said in an attempt to state what I saw as an obvious fact. "LIKE HELL IT'S NOT!" He screamed. I assumed the obscenity got through Joe's filter along with his anger. I lost my cool. I felt my hands ball into fists at my sides. I tried to shove them into my pockets, but the fists wouldn't fit, and I couldn't force the hands open. I felt the rage boil up from my middle and erupt through my straining neck and out of my shouting mouth. "WE DON'T HAVE A SAY!" I roared in his face. "SHE'S MY SISTER!" "SHE'S MINE TO!" "HOW ARE YOU OK WITH THIS?" "CAUSE SHE'S IN LOVE!" Joe looked at me like he'd swallowed a bug. "Love?" He asked in a normal tone of voice. I lowered my voice to match his when I answered. "Yes, she's in love." "How can she be?" "I don't know, but she is." "How can you tell?" Joe asked. "Because I know what it feels like." I explained. Joe's eyes tracked behind me. "Your husband is here." I turned to look. Shawn stood just outside my magic with his hand pressed to the barrier. He had a very worried expression on his face. I opened the barrier, pulled him inside, and closed it up again. The feeling when our link reestablished was like a warm embrace. "I was concerned when I didn't feel you anymore." Shawn said with barely a glance at Joe. I pulled Shawn in for a chaste kiss and apologized for worrying him. Shawn kissed me back and forgave me. He stood to my right and faced Joe with me. "Is he making you feel bad, Church?" Shawn asked me. Joe shook his head. "No, I was worried about Mary. You won't have to destroy me." Shawn tried to walk back what he'd said the night before. I guessed the thinking he'd done about Joe's reasons for lashing out made Shawn regret the intensity of his threats. "I don't want to hurt you, Joe, but I refuse to stand by and let you hurt the man I love." Joe gripped his cane and knocked it against the ground. He left the cane stand and rubbed his neck like I do. "There's a lot of talk about love going around this house. You two love each other. Church loves Bem. Bem loves my sister. Mary loves Bem." Joe's mild expression turned nasty as he finished his statement with a sneer. "A pair of homosexuals, a bisexual, and my sister the adulteress, one big love fest." The sneer set me off. I raised my fist to strike my brother and opened my mouth to shout at the same time. Joe cringed and I controlled both impulses. Based on what I felt from Shawn, I knew that he wouldn't have interfered if I had hit Joe. I sensed that Shawn felt it would serve Joe right. Instead, I shook my head at the ground, released the magic around us, and physically turned Shawn back toward the house. "We're done here." I said and started to walk away. "I just don't understand." Joe said to our backs. He sounded desperate. The cry for understanding sounded like a plea for help. I stopped walking and sighed. Shawn wanted me to keep going but I resisted. "I'll try just once more." I said quietly to Shawn. "Just once more and then he's on his own." I turned back to my brother and closed he and I inside my magic again, with Shawn on the outside. I pointed at Shawn through my magic with my open right hand. "Joe, I'm in love with Shawn. He loves me back. He is the most important thing in my life, and I am the most important thing in his. Mary and Bem are at the beginning of a similar relationship. They are finding out how much they mean to each other. I think that one day, they will love each other like Shawn and I do. All we have to do is to let them discover it." I looked at Joe and tried to make my statement reflect on him. "If you'd let yourself be a regular human being instead of this robot of faith, you'd have a chance to find love too. Then, you'd understand. Until you live it, you can't hope to understand it. I'm willing to do everything I can to help you find the love of your life, but not if you keep sneering at what I have. This one last time, I'll ask you, what is your problem with me and my husband?" Joe rubbed his neck again and looked at the ground. "I don't know." He muttered. I shrugged and felt sad and defeated. "I don't want to hear from you until you can answer that question. We're done with this conversation. Right now, we're going into the house, and you're going to congratulate Mary and Bem and you will be very supportive of their new relationship." Joe nodded to the ground. I released the magic around us and let him go into the house in front of Shawn and me. Joe stopped at the dining room table, where Bem and Mary were feeding each other an early lunch, and he said all the right words of congratulations and praise and hope for the future. When he was finished, he took his leave from all of us and went up to his room. "What's up with him?" Mary asked when we heard Joe's door shut. I shook my head. "Too many opinions and no reasons to back them up. We'll deal with him later. I'm happy for both of you. I never saw a better couple," I smiled and added some teasing to my congratulations, "that wasn't me and Shawn." Mary and Bem smiled at my teasing and gave each other a little kiss before they went back to their meals. I went into the kitchen, dumped out my cold coffee, poured more from the pot, and leaned my back against the counter to drink it. Shawn followed me in and stood with me. He didn't say anything, which I didn't mind. The morning had already been stress-filled and I felt overwhelmed. Shawn must have sensed my unsettled emotions. Of course, he did. He sensed them and suggested we go out for a while. "We need groceries, right?" He asked. He was right. Eight hungry mouths in the house had made short work of the provisions Joe had on hand when we arrived, and despite our almost daily shopping trips, we were still running at a food deficit. Shawn's new-found vegan needs also added a layer of complexity to the food supply problem that we needed to deal with. I poured the rest of the mug of coffee down my throat, refilled the mug, and carried it with me to the front door. "You're right, let's go." I opened the door and held it for Shawn. He went out and started down the walk. I glanced back at the happy couple in the dining room and saw them rise from the table. I waited to see if they wanted me. They seemed to be having a gentle discussion about who was going to shower first. I was struck with an idea that I knew Bem would appreciate. "Oh Bem," I called to my rumpled friend. He left Mary standing in the kitchen doorway and came to where I stood. He looked up at me expectantly. I leaned down to whisper to him. "Why not use the master bath? Then you can clean up together. Shawn and I will be gone for at least an hour." "Can you make it two?" Bem asked eagerly. I pulled my phone from my back pocket to check the time. It was just noon. "Starting now." I said. Bem turned on his heels, grabbed Mary's hand, and dragged her up the stairs. I laughed my way out the door. * * * * I drove Shawn and me to what the locals referred to as the `big Zenith' on Lenola Road at the extreme edge of the Maple Shade Township border. I figured the fifteen-or-twenty-minute drive each way, and the time it would take to walk around the larger store, would help me keep my two-hour promise to Bem. I also figured that the larger store would have a better selection of vegetarian or vegan items for Shawn. We parked the car, got a cart, and made our way into the store. "When did you figure out all that stuff about the way Joe felt?" I asked as we worked our way through the produce department. Shawn had his face and upper body buried in a pallet-sized cardboard box that was half-full of watermelons. He knocked on the oversized fruits to see which ones were ripe. I took a minute to admire the ripe roundness in the back of his pants and the way the muscles in his legs lengthened and tightened while he leaned into the crate. Shawn stood up with a melon in one hand while his other hand rapped on the rind of the fruit. I fought off the urge to laugh at him. The humor was two-fold. The first part of it was the ridiculously grave look he had on his face while he sounded the melons. The other part was how he knew what he was doing. Shawn had never selected a piece of fruit in his life. On Solum, if he wanted watermelon, the culinarian would make some up for him. Shawn was using my memories of a skill that my Grandmom Helen had taught me at a roadside stand, and he was doing it as automatically as if the skill was his own. He hefted one melon into the seat of the cart and quickly selected a second one. With that task finished, he moved to look at the tomatoes before he answered my question. "Oh, I couldn't sleep last night. That stuff Joe said bothered me enough that I stayed awake to think about it." "Yeah, it bothered the hell out of me to." I muttered. Shawn shook his head and tied a knot in the end of a plastic bag full of carefully selected Jersey tomatoes. "No...I mean, yes, it bothered me the way you mean, but it also didn't make sense to me. Joe has been critical of us since we got here, but not to that level. He disapproved of us and Andy, but never that violently. I knew something changed, but I couldn't figure out what it was. It finally occurred to me that his entire life is in that house. He never lived anywhere else and he's getting ready to leave everything he knows. He's even had two years to come to terms with dying and now, he doesn't even have that to be certain of. He's scared." We finished in the produce department and followed the natural path through the store to the main aisle across the back of the building. My extra height allowed me to see the meat cases before Shawn did. I guided us into an abrupt U-turn back through the produce department to the front of the store. "So, what do we do about it?" I asked. Shawn shook his head, more at the sudden change in direction than in response to my question, but his action matched his words anyway. "Nothing. Bem and Mary said they'd handle it, right? We let them handle it." "But it's already Wednesday." I objected as we rounded the corner into the cereal aisle. "The Vic will be done tomorrow, and I want to be the hell outta here no later than Saturday morning. That means Joe has to finish wrapping up his affairs. We still have to see Father Miller again, and Joe is the one that needs to set all that up. We can't do it for him." Shawn's logic didn't match my own. "We have to wait for him to come around. We may have to be here beyond Saturday." "Yeah, fuck that noise." I said too loudly. A woman near us looked up from two boxes of granola bars that she'd been trying to decide between to glare disapproval at my language. I tossed an insincere apology at her to her dissatisfaction. She dropped a box in her cart, returned one to the shelf, and went on her affronted way. I watched her go and went back to talking to Shawn. "Look, back when we first met, when you finally convinced me that I was on a parallel world, I figured I'd seen the last of Earth for the rest of my life and I was fine with that. Then your uncle made me come back here to do something he very well could have had anyone do for him. OK, fine." I shrugged my shoulders and rested my open hands on the cart handle. "For what it's worth, I'm glad we came and got to save my sister from a crappy marriage and save Joe from a crappy death and save Andy from a crappy life. That said, this Saturday morning I'm pointing the Vic at the Girard Point Bridge and WE...ARE...GOING...HOME. That's it; end of discussion. Joe can come willingly, or he can come hogtied in my magic, but we ARE leaving, and he IS coming." Shawn surprised me by agreeing to my little rant. "Fine. You're right...enough is enough. Maybe tossing him in the deep end is the right thing to do. Any loose ends in his affairs, he can finish tying up once we're home. I'm sure Uncle will help." I grabbed Shawn in a hug, lifted him in the air, twirled him once around, and set him back on his feet. "Thank you." I said as he regained his footing. "Sure." He agreed. "Let's finish shopping and get back. I'm getting hungry." I checked the time on my phone. We were just one hour into my two-hour promise. That left another thirty minutes to shop, ten to get through the check-out and load the car, and twenty to get home. `Oughta be just about right.' I thought and stuck the phone back in my pocket. * * * * Shawn and I got back to Joe's a few minutes short of two o'clock. `Close enough.' I figured regarding my promise to Bem. When we went in the house, we found that Andy and the twins were in the family room in front of a movie while Joe, Mary, and Bem sat around the dining room table in the middle of some kind of discussion. The three adults stopped talking and watched Shawn and me bring in the groceries. The way that they stopped, I assumed the discussion had something to do with Joe and me and the promise Bem and Mary had made to `handle' Joe. I tried to ignore the group in the dining room and whatever they may have been discussing while Shawn and I dumped the bags on the kitchen counter. I set to work sorting the perishables from the non-perishables while Shawn went to retrieve the rest of the bags. Bem came in while I was putting away the frozen vegetables. "Can you give us some privacy?" He asked. "Maybe put a barrier up around the room?" I answered him without taking my attention from what I was doing. "You know very well that I can do what you want. Tell me why I'm going to do it." "Please Church," Bem pleaded with me, "don't ask me what you already know." I paused with the freezer door open to scrutinize Bem's face. I knew he had my best interests at heart. I decided not to be difficult. "Sure, you can have a barrier. Let me know when you're ready." Bem returned to the dining room about the same time Shawn returned to the kitchen with the rest of the bags. Shawn set the bags on the counter. Bem called in that they were ready for the barrier. Shawn tapped my arm before I had a chance to erect the barrier. "Do you mind if I'm sit with them?" I looked at Shawn, then craned my head to look in the dining room, then looked back at Shawn. My looking didn't give me any insight, but at least Shawn's motives were clear. He wanted to help me, just like Bem wanted to help me. I knew that Shawn wanted to be an active part in solving the `Joe problem.' It wasn't like Shawn to let others do for him what he could do himself. It wasn't like me either, but it seemed that Joe was one problem that I was ill-equipped to deal with on my own. I knew that if Shawn was on the other side of the barrier, he and I would lose our connection. I didn't like being separated from him, especially when we were physically near each other. It would be more difficult for me not to feel him when I knew that he was so close by. I wanted to say `no' and keep Shawn's emotional presence with me while Bem and Mary did what they said they'd do, but that wasn't what Shawn wanted. I had to trust that he knew what he was doing now, like he always did. I relented to his request without argument. "Go ahead, I'll finish with the groceries. When I'm done, I'll make you a sandwich and send it in to you. What do you want to drink?" "Tea please. Thanks, Love." He gave me a quick pec on the cheek and went to join the others in the dining room. Joe appeared less than pleased at the prospect of Shawn joining the group, but that was his problem. I sealed them in and went back to putting the food away. When I was finished with the groceries, I made lunch for Shawn and me. I decided on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with coffee for me and tea for Shawn. I plated Shawn's sandwich and stood at the barrier until I could get someone's attention. Mary noticed me waiting and paused the discussion they were having. I dropped the barrier, put Shawn's lunch in front of him, and asked if anyone wanted anything. I tried to gauge the progress the group was making by focusing on Shawn's emotions when I released the barrier. He had his feelings completely locked down so I couldn't even get a hint. No one wanted anything, so I put the barrier back up and promised to check on them in an hour. I set the timer on the microwave to beep when an hour had gone by and leaned on the counter to eat my lunch and drink my coffee. When I was done, I went down to the family room to watch the movie with the kids. I sat next to Andy on the sofa and crossed my arms over my chest in an unintentional show of hostility. "Everything alright?" Andy asked. "No, Andy, it isn't, but there isn't a damn thing I can do about it, as my husband, my friend, and my sister are quick to remind me. I just have to sit on my hands and wait and see if the three of them, as a team, can remove your father's head from his ass." "Uncle Church." Andy said. I turned to see his young face, scrunched up with concern over the bitterness I'd just vented at him. I unfolded my arms, rubbed my face like I was trying to smear my expression off my skull, and apologized. "Sorry...I'm sorry. Don't listen to me. I'm just being a miserable prick." I set my hands in my lap and tugged on my bracelet like I was trying to drag it over my hand. "I was wondering," the boy tried to change the subject, "if Bem marries Aunt Mary, does that mean he'll be my uncle?" I thought about that. "I guess so." "Does that mean I should call him Uncle Bem?" Andy asked. I thought about that. "Probably not," I reasoned, "you met him before he was your uncle, so I think it would be weird to get formal now. He introduced himself to you as Bem, call him Bem." "But I call Aunt Mary, Aunt Mary and I call you Uncle Church." I followed Andy's logic where it took him and decided it was a matter of hierarchy. "That's because we were your aunt and uncle since you were born." "I don't get it." He objected. I tried to explain the way I saw it. "I'm your father's brother, so I'm your uncle by blood, just like your aunt is your father's sister. Since we're blood family, you call us aunt and uncle. Bem is marrying into the family, and you two already had a relationship before, so you call him what you always called him. I mean, Shawn is your uncle by marriage. You wouldn't call him Uncle Shawn, would you?" Andy blushed and dismissed the idea with a rapid shake of his head. "No, I wouldn't call Shawn `uncle.' That's silly." I laughed in my head at Andy's objection. `No, that would be weird because you think Shawn is hot. You can't be attracted to him and think of him as family at the same time.' I kept my thoughts to myself and agreed with him out loud. "Exactly, that is silly. Bem is Bem, and Shawn is Shawn, and I'm your uncle, and Mary is your aunt, and that's all there is." "Makes sense." He agreed. Because we'd settled the confusion, I decided to add to it. "Once you meet Shawn's mother and his uncle, we'll see what you call them." "What will they be to me?" Andy asked. I had to think about that one. I pictured the family tree in my head and used my fingers in the air to draw the branches of blood and marriage between Shawn's lineage and Andy. "Shawn's mother Lenis would be your great-aunt by marriage. That would make his father your great-uncle by marriage, but don't worry about him because I don't think you'll ever meet him. I guess that would make Shawn's Uncle Ars your great-uncle too." Andy saw a flaw in my logic and told me about it. "But if Shawn's father is my great-uncle, then how can Shawn's uncle be my great-uncle?" I shook my muddled head in confusion. "I have no idea. Maybe because there isn't anything else to call him. If you really want to drive yourself crazy, think of this, if Shawn's uncle was married to a man, he'd be your great-uncle too." "I'm confused." Andy said. "Me to. Next time you ask me a question like that, make sure we're near a white board or something." He chuckled and so did I. The family tree distraction was a good one to take my mind off the conference in the dining room. The distraction didn't last, though and I found my thoughts returning to that sore subject. I wondered what to expect from the conference. I didn't hold out a ton of hope that I'd release the magic barrier to a tear-filled reunion and an apology from Joe. All I really wanted was an end to bullshit. Once I was back on Solum, I'd be more equipped to deal with anything Joe could throw at me. On Solum I was home...on my turf, so to speak. Trying to deal with Joe in his house, surrounded by his things, with everything still stained with the memory of my parents, made even minor disagreements seem major. Almost as if Andy could read my mind, he chimed in with support. "It'll be OK, Uncle Church." "Yeah," I challenged, "how do you know?" "Bem said so. He came down right before you got home and said that him and Aunt Mary were gonna talk to dad. He didn't want me to worry if they `used words.'" The boy said it like he was quoting Bem directly. I took a deep breath and tried to let Andy's reasoning reassure me. I knew from first-hand experience that having Bem on my side in a battle was the best place to have him. I knew how brave and single-minded he could be. I knew how fiercely loyal he was to his friends and the people he cared about. I reminded myself that this was the man who, just days before, had admitted his complete willingness to murder my brother-in-law to protect my sister if we left her behind when we returned to Solum. Did I believe he would have done it? Yes, I did. "You believe what Bem tells you?" I asked. "I do," Andy sounded completely sure, "I don't know him real well, but enough to know he wouldn't lie to me." "From your mouth to God's ears." I breathed. "You're right. Bem doesn't lie." My mind stopped me in the middle of my assertion and puzzled over whether it was the truth or not. The Bem I knew didn't lie, had never lied to me that I knew of, but that same man had told me he'd been playing a role the entire time he knew me. I struggled with that, but realized it had nothing to do with my conversation with Andy. I clarified my assertion to the boy. "If Bem says he'll do something, he'll do it. I guess we just have to sit down here and let him work." We both lapsed into silence and watched the movie. It was one I'd seen before and wasn't wild over. It was a thinly veiled anti-pollution social commentary, made barely palatable for children through animation and a love story between two very different robots. The moral was as heavy handed as a flat shovel to the back of the head and I resented it. Luckily it was almost over. I looked forward to putting on a classic and giving the twins some culture that I suspected they were sorely lacking. I didn't get to. Right before the movie ended, the microwave beeped that an hour had gone by. I reluctantly climbed the stairs to see if the conference was done or if more time was needed. I approached the barrier and waved a warning at the group before I released the magic. Shawn had himself locked down again, so I could get no impression of how things were going. I couldn't even read the faces of the others. "Has it been an hour already?" Bem asked. I said that it had, and Bem asked for another hour. I gathered Shawn's lunch plates and put them in the sink to wash later. I also got everyone a glass of water. I was ready to reestablish the barrier around the dining room when suddenly the ridiculousness of the situation struck me. Four adults were sitting around a table trying to resolve the reticence of one of them without hurting the man outside the barrier. It seemed almost too goddamned silly to be real. Instead of sealing them in, so they could continue their conference without me, I poured myself another cup of coffee, and sat down next to Joe with it. I sealed all of us in the dining room and shouted at the house to prove we were cut off from the children. "Alright," I crossed my arms over my chest in a general challenge to the group, "I've had enough of this nonsense." Mary interrupted. "Church, we're trying to..." "I don't care." I cut her off. "I'm tired...I'm tired of worrying. I'm tired of walking around this fucking house on eggshells, wondering if something I say or do will trigger someone or something. I'm tired of having my lifestyle judged by people who don't know a goddamned thing about it. I'm tired of having the supposed rules of this word applied to someone who doesn't fucking live in it anymore. I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" I took a deep breath to get my flaring temper under control and went on with my monologue. "I came here in good faith. I apologized for being away and gave my reasons. I've been completely honest about who and what I am, where I've been, and what I've done. I invited comment, compliment, and criticism. I've offered my help. My husband offered his help. My friend offered his help. My husband saved my brother's life. That's no small thing, so I'll repeat it. MY...HUSBAND...SAVED...MY...BROTHER'S...LIFE! Did he thank him for it? Did he? No. He doubted my husband, asked him for proof. That's a slap in the fucking goddamned face to both him and me and I resent it." I glanced around the table. All eyes were on me as my words built speed and volume. "Then, my husband offers to give my brother back his mobility. All my brother has to do is take a little trip with us and stay a year. Just so we're clear, that would be the same year that my brother thought would see the end of his life. You get that? During that same year, my brother expected to be fucking dead." I paused to let the gravity of what I'd said sink into the group, then plowed on. "Not content with just making this offer, we also feel we need to persuade my reluctant brother to accept our kindness. I let myself worry about my brother's decision, and my worry and anxiety spilled over, torturing my husband with my negative feelings. I spent a day with a priest and opened myself up to more turmoil, all in the name of convincing my brother to do what's best for him. NOT WHAT'S BEST FOR ME," I pounded my chest with a closed fist, then pointed my index finger at Joe, "WHAT'S BEST FOR HIM!" I paused to get my breath and lower my volume again. "What does my brother do while my husband and I worry and work to convince him? Is he gracious? Is he humble? No, he is judgmental. He holds my lifestyle up to ridicule and tells me I'm a sinner. Not content with abusing me and worrying Shawn, he makes his own son feel bad for being a homosexual. He tries to make his own sister feel bad for choosing love over religion. He acts like my dear friend, who I love, isn't worthy of my sister, who I also love." "And how do we answer him? How do we deal with the most unreasonable of unreasonable men? We sit around the table, and we beg him to do what's right for him. We have no concern over what's right for us or what's expedient. No, we worry about him. Even the priest at his church tells him he's being selfish. Does any of this have any impact on him at all? Does it bother him? Does he care how he's tearing all of us up inside? No. He clings to his religion instead of his family, like his father before him." I stopped talking and gripped the edge of the table to address Joe directly. "Joe...are you listening to me? I want to make sure you're paying attention, because I don't want to have to say what I'm about to say more than once. Tell me you're listening." "I'm listening." Joe muttered and glared anger at me. "Good, I'm glad. FUCK YOU! How's that? Fuck you. Fuck you, and damn you to hell, and fuck you again. You want to judge me? Now it's my turn to judge you. I judge you to be a self-righteous, holier-than-thou, douchebag prick. I judge you unworthy of my love and caring. I judge you unworthy of my husband's worry. I judge you unworthy of the continued efforts of this group. I judge you an asshole." I paused to rub my face. As I did it, I felt Shawn's emotions. They were no longer locked down. He was riding a roller coaster of anger and worry. Angry at who and worried about what, I didn't know. I dropped my hands and plowed ahead. "It's Wednesday. Tomorrow, we need to see Father Miller if he's going to look after the house for the next year. On Friday, we need to clean up and get ready to leave. On Saturday at four in the morning, we are leaving this house for Solum...and Joe, you will be coming with us. I want to know right fucking now, are you going to come willingly, or not?" No one said anything. Shawn, Mary, and Bem stared at me. Joe stared at the tabletop. I pounded my closed fist on the table hard enough to slosh water out of the full glasses. "WILLINGLY OR NOT?" I screamed. "Willingly." Joe rasped without raising his eyes. "Fine. I have nothing more to say to you until you apologize to all of us for the bullshit you've put us through." Having said my piece, I found that I could no longer bear the sight of my brother, or his home. I needed to get away. I needed to get away before I said or did something I couldn't take back. I stood up and released the magic that surrounded us. "I'm going out." I growled and stormed from the house. I jumped in the Town Car and ground the starter. The old pig refused to start, and I felt like even it had turned against me. I gave it some gas and ground the starter again. The old V-8 caught and ran but sounded like it was only hitting on six or seven of the eight cylinders. I mashed the gas to the floor and listened to the engine roar in tortured protest. I let off and she idled down and ran normally. I jerked the car in gear and was pulling away from the curb when I heard my name. "CHURCH!" Mary cried as she ran down the walk. I stopped the car and waited for her. She yanked the passenger door open and jumped in. I mashed the gas and tore away from the curb. I stopped at the end of the block to light one of Andy cigarettes. When I had the thing smoldering in my face, I launched the car around the corner at full throttle. The engine roared and the tires screamed as the vast sedan slid sideways through the residential intersection. Mary yelled at me over the noises of the car. "WHY DO YOU DO THAT?" She yelled and hit my upper arm with every word. "BECAUSE I'M PISSED!" "DOES IT HELP?" "A LITTLE, YEAH!" I reached the end of the development and made the left onto Maple Avenue headed toward Cherry Hill, Merchantville, Pennsauken, and Camden. I stopped us at the light at Haddonfield Road and waited for it to change. "Does it really help to drive like that?" Mary asked again. "A little, yeah." I repeated. "I'll have to try it sometime." "Better do it now." I said as the light changed and I accelerated away from the intersection. "The cars on Solum are pretty boring. A stunt like my right turn back there would be impossible for a Solum vehicle." I drew on my cigarette, exhaled the smoke and flicked the ashes out the driver's window. "Does the cigarette help?" Mary asked. I took it from my mouth, looked at it, and tossed it, half-smoked, out the window. "They used to. Now they just make me feel bad." "Are you OK?" She asked. "I want to go home, Mary. I just want to go home." I made a right into the vacant parking lot of a closed-down bowling alley that had once been the Maple Bowl. It had been open when I lived on Earth, so I assumed it had shut in the years I was away. The lot was weedy and the painted parking space stripes had faded. The building had that forlorn look of being closed a long while. I turned the car to face the road and backed into a spot without worrying about being between the lines. I put the car in park and clicked the ignition off. I dropped my face in my hands and felt like I wanted to cry but couldn't find the tears. "If you've got any words of wisdom, dear sister, now would be a good time." "Shawn tried to come." Mary said to answer a question I hadn't asked. I guessed she wanted to explain her presence instead of that of my husband. "When you ran out, Shawn moved to go after you, but I asked him if he'd let me go. He told me to call him if I needed him." "That's nice Mary." I said. I didn't understand if she was getting at something or just rattling, so I asked. "Are you making a point?" "What you said...it needed to be said." Mary offered to provide some disjointed support for what I'd done at the house. "We all took the wrong approach with him. We've been begging. We should have been telling. Good for you for getting it right." I raised my head so I could look in my sister's face to see if she was teasing me. She seemed sincere, which I thought was stranger than if she was teasing. "Really?" "Yes," she nodded and grinned. "I especially liked it when you said, `I judge you an asshole.' That was epic." I chuckled with her, but the good feeling lasted only as long as the humor did. It faded and I was miserable again. I toyed with my bracelet. I pulled at the band like I expected it to stretch like my watch had. I thought about lighting another cigarette, but I knew it wouldn't help. Mary shifted around in her seat like she couldn't get comfortable. Maybe she couldn't. "Shawn was right," she said, "Joe is scared." "Fuck him." I muttered. "What's that?" "I SAID FUCK HIM!" I roared. Mary cringed away from my shouting. I swallowed the rage, but it wouldn't go down. I managed to lower my voice to a growl instead of a roar. "What about me? Does he think it was easy for me to come back here? Do you? `Hey Mary, Joe," I mocked, "I'm not dead, not fat, not a stumbling fucking drunk, don't smoke anymore, all healthy and fit and living on another world and MARRIED TO A FUCKING MAN! Jesus fuck, Mary. The questions that went through my head...what do I tell them, where have I been, why didn't I contact them, will they even believe it's me, what will they say, will they accept me, will they hate me for leaving, for coming back, for being gay? I WAS SCARED!" I dropped my head in my hands again and felt wretched. Mary spoke in a tone that told me she still wanted to talk but was trying not to set me off. "I'm not defending him. His fear is a reason, not an excuse." Mary paused a long beat before she continued along a different line of thought. "I am sorry...for how I acted...that first day. I should have been happy to see you. I was glad you were alive, but...I think I built up a lot of resentment for you." "Because I left?" I asked my palms. "Partly." "Partly?" I asked and raised my head again. It seemed like a good day to deal with all the bad blood, so I asked her for hers. "What's the rest of it?" Mary crossed her arms under her small bust like she was going on the defensive, then she explained. "I hated you for always fighting with mom and dad. I never understood why you couldn't just get along with them. I blamed you for it being hard to live in that house because you always seemed to be behind every argument. I hated you for making me deal with the arrangements when they died, then I hated you for trying to drink yourself to death. When you disappeared, I hated you for killing yourself, for not being man enough to face life. Then your will...that was the final insult. Why did you do that? It was mean of you." I almost apologized to her for leaving Mary out of my will, but I didn't. I wasn't sorry. I was still mad at her for being a shit about Joe keeping the house and I told her as much. "I did that because you just HAD to make money when our folks died. You didn't need it and Joe did. That pissed me off. I'll tell you how mad I was, I stayed sober a full day and night so when I went to the lawyer to draw the will, I was of sound mind, and no one could say I wasn't." Mary's posture drooped like I'd struck a nerve, her chin tucked into her chest. I wondered what that reaction was about, but I didn't have to wonder for long. "I did need the money." She admitted to the floor. "Ezekiel ran through our savings and the property taxes were due on our house...overdue really. My piece of the estate wasn't enough to pay them. I had to work it out with the township like some deadbeat." Her admission made me feel bad. At the time, between my drunkenness and my anger, I'd ridden Mary pretty hard over her third of the estate. Finding out she needed the cash to cover another of her husband's indiscretions made me feel like a bastard. "You could have come to me." "HOW?" She snapped. "Oh yeah, `Church, my husband blew all our money, can I have some of yours?' No way you'd ever let me live that down." I shrugged off the venom of her words. I'd like to think I wouldn't have made her twist for the cash, but I might have. At no time in my life could I claim to be a perfect person. At that particular time, I was about as far from it as I've ever been. "Either way," I said to continue the explanation, "that's why I left everything to Joe. I was mad at you, and I did it for spite. I figured I'd be dead long before either of you, and that was my last `fuck you.'" Mary nodded at me and uncrossed her arms. "I guess it doesn't matter now." She said, graciously I thought. "It's over and done with and those people who we were isn't who we are." "That's true." I took a breath and rubbed my neck. I didn't feel any better, but I felt like my tantrum had gone on for long enough. "I guess we should go home...to Joe's I mean. I'll have to start cooking soon and Shawn will be worried. I hate worrying him." I reached for the ignition key but stopped with my hand half-way there and let it drop back into my lap. "Thanks for having my back through all this. I need an ally. I'm glad you're my sister." Mary's mouth opened and stayed open in speechless shock. She snapped it shut and punched my arm. "Oh, you! That's enough sap. Drive us back now." I laughed at her, started the car, and drove us back. Mary got out of the car and waited for me to come around to her side. "I'm glad you're my brother." She said as she took my arm and walked with me into the house.