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Ielta's Story Chapter Three |
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Ielta was early. Well, she was usually early, but today she was earlier than usual. She just hadn't wanted to sit around her empty house, listening to things only she could hear. The buzz of conversation in the little cafe was much preferable to the buzz of the circuits that ran everywhere through the station-- particularly where Ielta happened to be-- and much more friendly and alive than whatever music, holovision, or VR game she could turn on in its stead. What's that, Ielta? Besides, she was meeting Boserro here eventually, anyway, so why not just show up early, get a good table, and wait in relative comfort. Ielta, I feel sick... they're all making me sick.... While she waited, she drummed her black fingertips on the table-top. Repeatedly. Continuously. Taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap, taptaptaptap. Maybe it annoyed other people in the restaurant, mostly empty. Actually, she was pretty sure it did. But she couldn't help it. It was soothing. Even when she didn't intend to, or was busy doing something else, she'd wind up finger-tapping or toe-tapping or tail-tapping, if she had a tail at the time. There wasn't much she could do about it. So, as a compromise, she sat in the farthest corner, away from the bulk of the customers, with her back pressed to the wall so no one could get behind her. The nice waitress had even saved it for her. I feel like I'm gonna die...! Because of all of them! Ielta, fix me! This was a regular meeting time, for Ielta and her brother Boserro. Once a month-- sometimes twice, if it was a particularly bad month-- at this restaurant, in this very booth, they would get together to share a meal and catch up on each other's lives. Not that much ever really went on in Ielta's life, though she did share with him the results of whatever new drug, spell, or therapy she'd been goaded into trying most recently. Today, at least, she didn't have much to say, there: the last medicine they'd tried to put her on for the voices, her twitches and fears, her dreams, had caused an unexpected and uncomfortable allergic reaction. So now she was free of so-called treatments for the next two months until they were certain it was out of her system and had a better idea of what in her incredibly mixed heritage could react badly to the next suggestion. Ielta, we're dying... we're dying and the world is dying and you're dying. Ielta herself had long since given up hope that anything would help. She was crazy, she would always be crazy, and there was nothing she could do about being crazy. After five and a half years of treatments and therapies and drugs, and moving from psychiatrist to psychologist to psychiatrist, she was certain nothing could be done to "fix" her. Zabeth and said various doctors had not yet given up hope, however, so she humored them. It was best to make others happy as best she could, after all. Besides, she'd run out of patience with arguing them. "Hello, Ielta!" It wasn't so bad being crazy, really. Sure, you made people uncomfortable, and had nightmares, and heard or saw things that weren't really there. But you got used to it, really, and if you kept on your guard you could tell the hallucinations from reality. Every now and then she slipped, but she was getting better at it. She was even getting better at hiding the fact that she <u>was</u> crazy, though she really only managed it for first impressions and, sometimes, second impressions. "How long have you been waiting for me?" They're whispering to me again. Clearer than usual, this time.... "Ielta?" No, wait-- "Boserro!" Ielta exclaimed with a start, surprised to find her shimmeringly-white brother sitting across from her with an uncertain smile. She settled again and grinned apologetically at him. "Sorry, I didn't see you." And thought his greeting was one of her usual voices, but he could guess that without her having to tell him. He was one of those few people who didn't mind that she was crazy, once they found out. He'd grown up with her, after all, humoring her when she whimpered at him of the whispering circuits and letting her hide under his wing. He was kinder than most people. He melted out of concern into warmth, and barely contained excitement! Whatever was that for? "It's all right," he grinned back. "How are you?" "Oh, the same as ever. Whispers and secrets and death threats." There weren't really any death threats, of course, but it felt like there were, sometimes. She eyed him curiously. "You?" "I," he said with an incredibly happy glint in his eye and ponderous dignity, "am a father." "A father!" "A father," he repeated proudly. "I didn't even know there was a girl!" Ielta exclaimed, torn between pleasure for him, amusement, and dismay. Did this mean he couldn't see her anymore, busy being a parent? Busy with a mate? Busy with life? Of course not. He had come now, hadn't he? Hadn't he? "Well, yes..." he blushed, looking at his folded hands on the table-top. "She's... well, she's not exactly The One, but... I like her. She's nice, and-- I like her." Ielta giggled and reached over to pat his hands. "It's okay. Remember who I lived with most of my life?" "Miss I'll-sleep-with-anything-female-that-breaths?" Boserro said with a wry half-smile, through his embarrassment. He meant, of course, Peta-mari. The same one Ielta meant. "Right. That you're having babies with someone you like is nothing. I'm glad you like her. When are they due?" "Not for a couple months...." He shifted in his seat. "Will you-- would you like to come? Once they're born? We'll be in one of he public bays...." "How many are they?" Ielta asked narrowly. "Um, a lot? Maybe even more than we were." "Wow," Ielta said, sitting back. "Well, yeah. I'll come see them. As long as your mate won't think I'll go wild and attack them, or anything." She'd found that a rather common assumption: that she was somehow dangerous. Or worse, catching. "You've never been violent," Boserro protested. "Eurani would know that! She'll like you just for who you are, no matter what." "You're so sweet," Ielta grinned at him, then turned to the waiter who had come up to the table. "Do you have any of that wonderful clam soup? Well?" she added impatiently when the fellow just grinned eerily at her without answering. "Um, Ielta--" Ielta paused, glancing at him side-long and catching his chagrined-yet-amused expression. "Er... no one there?" "Nope." "Damn. I'm hungry and I want clam soup!" That was the best she could do: laugh it off and wait for the real server to show up. At least this time it wasn't something scary. |