wizard-of-the-pigeons

closed his eyes to her brushing touch, blacking out the memories.
“I don’t like the man I was,” he tried to explain. “It’s him or me in the gray
place. I won’t go back to being him. I don’t have to, and I won’t.”
“All right, baby, all right. It doesn’t matter, it’ll be fine now. Lynda’s not
angry.” She wasn’t listening to him, any more than he was tuned into her hands
and mouth on him. He kept himself divorced from it, holding back the touching
and feeling that could unleash the pain. It was a fair trade. If he let himself be
reached, she would hurt him, would drive him with agony until he destroyed the
source of the pain. No touch of pleasure, no touch of pain. Being numb was the
key to it all. He found the balancing point again and felt a certain bitter
satisfaction with it. He was safe from her now. She’d get nothing from him. He
felt her squirm against him, heard the rustle of clothing as she arranged her body
against his. He let her, unwonted. There were other things he could think about,
things that were safe to remember.
“IF YOU COULD DO ANYTHING, be anything, what would you do?”
It had been an expansive afternoon, roaming the city with Cassie. He was
beginning to get the hang of this new life, starting to realize the possibilities. It
was a heady sensation.
She was in a tweed skirt; he wore a corduroy jacket with learner patches at
the elbows. They had gone everywhere that eccentric scholars could go, with
numerous side trips en route. They had merged unnoticed with a group touring
underground Seattle, and had nearly managed to be left behind in the dank dark
below the streets. She had shown him a bakery where a kindhearted assistant set
out the discarded baked goods on a tin foil tray atop the dumpster to save the
street people the trouble of digging for them. They had explored what was left of
the old plant at Gas Works Park and sampled five kinds of coffee at Starbucks.
Cassie had taken him to the Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Museum on
Main, and introduced him to the ranger there as her associate. Ed Reynolds. The
ranger had shown them films and opened the display cases for them, to let them
handle the relics of that remote time. Wizard had promised to return soon, and
spend more time talking about the Gold Rush era and how it had affected Seattle.
“Especially on rainy days.” Cassie had offered as soon as they were on the
sidewalk again, and they had giggled together like wayward truants.