Pira Page 2
“She'll leave it alone. She knows I like you.”
He considered, then gave her a chaste hug. She kissed him on the cheek, then fled into the house.
Thereafter he did associate with Pira, with parental permission. Evidently Manta had checked him out and verified that he was no pervert. Sometimes they went to a nearby park and played together on the equipment. He noticed that she did not try to associate with any of the other children; she stuck almost embarrassingly close to him. Indoors, they played cards and board games. Once he took her to a movie she wanted to see, and let her hold his hand as if it were a date. Sometimes they sang together. Yes, they were of widely different ages, but it was fun. The fact was that when he was with her he wasn't lonely or bored, and she was good company.
“I'm comfortable with you,” she told him.
“Ditto,” he agreed. “We're friends.”
She frowned. “I don't want to be your friend. I want to be your girlfriend.”
She was certainly single minded! “Isn't holding hands enough?”
“No. Holding hands is just the first thing I want to do with you. There are ninety nine more. Like kissing, hugging, stroking, feeling, getting naked together--”
“Stop it, Pira. You know they'd throw me in jail if I did any of that with you.”
“But I wouldn't tell.”
“No,” he said firmly. But he had to admit guiltily to himself that he enjoyed her adoration, as long is it was restrained.
Then summer expired, and they both had other things to do. He thought that would be the end of it.
2
Commitment
Six years passed, not in an eye-blink, but in a busy life. Orion graduated from high school with middling grades and went on to college. He continued with his judo, and when he was 20 his sensei, or judo teacher and guide, finally persuaded him to enter one competition. He did well, and finished second, only because he held off rather than embarrass his opponent with tricky moves the other obviously was not conversant with. But the senior officials, familiar with Orion’s history and wise in the nuances, caught on and promoted him to black belt.
But somehow it was his time with Pira he remembered. They had different schedules, she being thoroughly home schooled in summer and winter, while he had home duties, practice sessions, and the never-ending load of classwork and homework. All that eased, for both of them, when they were together, whether it was weekly, monthly, or more widely spaced. He taught her to play chess, which they played on his smart phone, and she soon became as good as he was, which was nothing special, but it was fun. They also played board games and cards. Often they saw movies, but sometimes they just sat in the park and talked. They simply liked each other's company, different as they were in many respects.
“They tell me I'm a gifted child,” she said.
“Oh, did they test you?”
“I guess. Mainly my coordination.”
“You're good at hot hands.”
“Yes. Something about reflex speed. And my vision is 20:05. I think that's good.”
He was surprised. “Normal vision is 20:20. That means that a person sees what he should see at twenty feet. Some have worse vision, like 20:40, meaning that at twenty feet it feels like forty. So you see as if you're only five feet away. I never heard of anyone with eyes like that.”
“I thread needles for mom. It's easy for me. But I guess I'm also a problem child.”
“They told you that?” he asked, surprised.
She smiled. “No. My hearing is pretty good also. I heard mom discussing it with a social worker, when they thought I was too far away, or maybe absorbed in my games.” She grimaced. “Sometimes I'm bored with their deals, and thinking my own thoughts. They call that being inattentive. Sometimes what they want is stupid, and I try to argue.”
“So you get labeled argumentative. I've been there, done that.” It was part of their shared nature: trouble with the ignorant throng.
“Yes. Once they wanted to test me on math, and I used algebra to solve for X and got the answer too fast, so they thought I cheated.”
“My fault. I shouldn’t have told you about algebra when you weren't supposed to be ready for it.”
“You shouldn't have,” she agreed, laughing. “And when I'm supposed to be quiet, I'm up running around. The teachers hated that. That's when mom had to start home-schooling me.”
“You're a square peg.”
“What's that?”
“Most punch holes are round. A square peg doesn't fit.”
“You're a square peg too.”
“I am,” Orion agreed. “But I learned early on to hide it. I just go along with what they say, even though I know better. It's best not to make waves.”
“Waves?”
“Waves can be mischief, and people don't like them.” He smiled.
“Why the smile?”
“It reminded me of a joke.”
“Tell me!”
“But it's dirty. Nice girls don't like dirt.”
“Tell me anyway. I'm nice only on the outside; inside I'm one mean little fish. It will be our secret.”
“Okay.” They did keep each other's secrets. “It's about a man who dies and goes to Hell. The devil gives him a choice of three rooms he can spend eternity in. The first is a torture chamber, with people being constantly dismembered, jammed back together, and torn apart again. The second is a wild gay bar, only he's not gay. You know what I mean?”
“Sure. It's when men like men and women like women. What's wrong with that?”
“To you and to me, nothing. But some men hate gays, and will kill them if they get the chance, just because they’re different. This man in Hell is that kind; he'd rather die than be stuck with gays, and he's already dead. The devil knows that.”
“The devil's pretty smart.”
“And tricky. Then they checked the third room. It's dark and cool, and there's only a sort of low whispering. Our man doesn't even need to think about it: he chooses that room. It can't be as bad as the others.”
“What is it?”
“When they turn on the light, he sees it's filled with liquid shit, and there are people standing in it on tiptoe, with only their mouths barely above its level. They are whispering 'Don't make a wave! Don't make a wave!'”
She laughed. “Serves him right. And I'll bet the devil makes a wave every so often.”
“Well, it is Hell. But life is also like that. You can get into ugly situations through no fault of your own, or by guessing wrong, and just have to manage.”
“I'll never tell you told me,” she promised. “I'm not even supposed to know what that word means.”
“It's better to know the words, even if you never use them yourself, so you know what others are talking about.”
“Tell me the words!”
So he told her the words. “Don't tell your mother I told you.”
“Never. That would just make a wave.”
They laughed together.
Pira was curious about many things, especially if he had any connection to them. One of them was judo. “Teach me judo.”
“That's really not a one lesson discipline. It would be better to take a continuing class.”
“I don't like classes.”
He understood why. So he taught her the basic throws, and how to take a fall, crucial in judo. She caught on to them quickly, and could have done well in a formal class. She preferred the mat work, which was like wrestling, because that put her right up against him.
“In real life, a kiss is not part of a hold-down,” he cautioned her.
“I prefer fantasy.”
After that, they practiced judo in off moments. It was just one of their many interactions, fun because they liked doing things together.
So the years had passed. This time he was home alone in the evening when Pira called. “My folks have a meeting and they don't want to leave me home alone. May I join you?”
“You're asking me to babysit you?” h
e asked, surprised. “You don't need that. You're 14.”
“I get nervous alone. They don't like me to be nervous.”
He laughed. Pira was a fine and competent girl, but she did have her hangups. She also remained pleasant company. “Sure, come on over.”
She arrived shortly on her bike and he let her in. She was in a soft red dress, and wore her hair loose rather than her normal long ponytail. She was actually quite pretty, but the top of her head came only to his chest. “Hi,” she said faintly.
“Pira, you didn't have to dress up for me.”
“Yes I did.”
He brought her into the house and sat her down in the living room. “Pira, what's going on? What's really on your mind?”
“What's the difference between fascination and love?”
Surprised, he stumbled. “I wouldn't know, from personal experience. I've never been in love. But I understand that the feeling is similar, except it's love that lasts.”
“How long?”
“Well, a crush normally passes in a few months. Love lasts years.”
She nodded. “Remember how I had a crush on you, that first summer?”
“Oh, yes! You held my hand at the movie, and wanted hugs.”
“So that should have passed in maybe six months.”
“Didn't it? You've acted normal the intervening time, except for some teasing kisses.”
“No.”
He was surprised again. “How long?”
“How about six years?”
“Pira! Still?”
“Still.”
“That sounds like love.”
“Yes.”
“You're 14. I'm 20. You're in ninth grade. I'm a junior in college. You play hot hands. I date college girls. Our worlds are quite different. We're friends, not a couple.”
“And I look 8,” she said, accurately. “The women in my family mature late. I'm not really a child.”
“I know you're not. And it seems that your emotion is well beyond your appearance.”
“Yes. I think it's as far ahead as my body is behind.”
“I assumed your crush had passed after that summer. You never said anything since.”
“I didn't want to embarrass you. You're not into children.”
“Are you teasing me? Is this a joke?”
“Hardly. Will you let me kiss you? For real?”
He hesitated. “This is relevant?”
“Yes.”
He sighed. “Then let's do it right.” He fetched a footstool. “Stand on this so you're closer to my height.”
She stood on it, having no trouble with balancing. He stepped into her and put his arms about her small body. She looped her arms around his shoulders and set her hands on his head. She hummed “Black is the Color.” She held him and kissed him, her loose black hair caressing his cheeks.
He was amazed. It was the desperate passion of a woman in love.
“Oh, my,” he breathed as he stepped back. “You're serious.”
“Oh, yes.”
Now he realized that there was a reason she had dressed pretty for him. She wanted to look her best, for this contact. “Pira, I don't know what to say. I think you're one great girl, but I'm not in love with you.”
“I know. You're not emotionally committed. I'm not asking you for that. I know I'm not a sexy college girl. You can date all of those you want to, and I won't be too jealous. But I'll do anything you want, and I won't tell. You can use me and throw me away. Anything you want, I'd love it.”
He had to turn her off. “You know that if I even touched you in any such manner, I'd go to prison for molesting a minor.”
“No one would know.”
“I'd know.”
“When I come of age, I'll marry you.”
“I'll be 24! Maybe married by then.”
“You'll wait for me. When I'm 18, I'll look like my mother.”
He realized it was true. She already had the face; the body would follow. But it was crazy. “Pira--”
“Humor me. I had to tell you. We have to be honest with each other. I won't make a scene. I told you and you answered me. It's just part of the background of our relationship. Let's get on with the babysitting.”
“Wait! Why tell me now, after six years?”
“Because things may be changing, and you need to be in the know.”
“Changing? Pira, we can still be friends. I like you. Like you a lot. I just don't love you. What is changing?”
“Let's wait a bit on that.”
So there was more. He was happy to let it wait. She would get to it in her own fashion. “I'll put on a movie. Do you have a preference?”
“Do you have Camelot?”
So they sat chastely side by side and watched Camelot, both enjoying it. But he was highly aware that she wasn't finished with him. “You have something else on your mind,” he said when the movie was done.
“Oh, you remembered!”
He made as if to spank her bottom. “How could I forget? What is it?”
“I have a big decision to make.”
“Ah.”
“You—you're good at martial arts, aren't you?”
“Judo. I can handle myself. You know that long since.”
“I do,” she agreed. “I've been offered a—a place at a special school. There'll be a house mother who watches over me, so I won't be too shy. I think I can manage it.”
“A school for what?”
“For martial arts training, I guess you'd call it.”
“What discipline?”
“Crossed Lasers.”
Orion shook his head. “I know of no martial art by that name.”
“It's secret. I can't tell you much about it, and you can't tell anyone else.”
“My lips are sealed.”
“And I know your word is good. Okay, it uses laser beams to heat things at a distance. Two beams, and they have no effect except where they cross. There it's hot.”
“I've heard of laser surgery. They can even do brain surgery, without having to cut into the head.”
“That's it. The beams are like X-rays, going through most things. But where they intersect, it's like a torch. So there's no blocking it. The trick is to make them cross at just the right place, so you don't fry someone's eyeballs or something by accident.”
He nodded, thoughtfully. “A weapon that can't be blocked. That would be deadly indeed.”
“Yes.”
“They want to train you to do that?”
“They tested my coordination. They think I might be good at it.”
“You might indeed, Pira. Your hands are so fast.”
“I'd go to this boarding school for a year to learn it. I hear there's a high dropout rate. Maybe I won't graduate.”
“And maybe you'll ace it. You won't find out unless you go.”
“Yes. Should I?”
“Pira, that's your decision, not mine.”
She faced him with an intense focus. “When I said I'd do anything you want, I wasn't just talking about you maybe touching my ass. I need your reaction. Do you want me to do this?”
Orion reminded himself again that she might look eight, but was actually fourteen, and older than that if her passion counted. “I need more information, and not on lasers. Why is my input here so important to you?”
“Because if I go, and I graduate, I'll be able to hurt, maim, or kill with just little gestures of my hands. I'll be like you with your judo, only more so. I'm afraid of that power. You aren't. You have perspective I lack. If you tell me not to do it, I'll know that's the right decision.”
“Do you want to do it?”
“I do if you say so.”
“No! I mean if you could have me answer the way you want, and I don't guarantee to do that, what would you have me say?”
She didn't hesitate. “Yes. But only if you'll support me.”
“Support you?”
She paused, her face studiedly neutral. “Do you have to have it no
w?”
“In judo you don't go into a dangerous situation without knowing your options. I suspect you want more of me than you think I'm ready to give.” He smiled briefly. “That maybe I'd be better off just pinching your rear.”
Now she smiled. “Yes, you would, and you're welcome to it.” Then she visibly nerved herself. “A year from now I'll still be under age. I may have to go places, even out of the country. I'll need an adult companion.”
“Or a bodyguard?” Because she would still be a small girl, physically, bait for unscrupulous men. She might have deadly power, but would hesitate to use it.
“That, too. They'll provide one for me, if I make it through the course. But I'd rather choose my own. I need the right one. I'm—I'm sort of fragile, emotionally, is what the shrink says.”
“The shrink!”
“It was a pretty comprehensive test. I'll need the right support.”
“And you think I'm the right support?”
“I know it, Orion. I love you. With you I'm whole. I can do it with your support. But only you. No one else would work. I can't do it without you.”
He thought back over the years he had known her, and concluded that was probably true. They knew each other well, and there was mutual trust. “Pira, this is not a commitment I can make right now. I have a year of college yet, already paid for by my family. I can't let them down. I can't just quit.”
“You'll have that year.” She shrugged. “And maybe I won't graduate, so it'll be academic. Will you gamble on that?” Her chin was quivering, and he knew she was close to tears. She desperately wanted his support.
Orion realized that this could be a rare opportunity to do something dramatically different. Those crossed lasers interested him. There was evidently a competent organization behind this new technology. He was telling her to make her own decision; this much was his own decision. His life was as yet uncommitted beyond college. Did he want this? He thought he did. For one thing, it might be an opportunity for a continuing relationship with Pira, and he wanted that. Also, her desperation moved him; he did not want to hurt her.
“I'd have to clear it with your family, and with the laser folk. There's nothing certain about it. But yes, if it works out, I'll do it.”
Pira folded in on herself, confirming that she had been under severe tension. “Thank you, Orion,” she said bravely.