wizard-of-the-pigeons

he tuned in to her words, she was still going on about hot showers and clean
sheets. He dug his heels into the sidewalk and brought her around to face him.
The look on his face stopped her chatter.
“What is it?” she demanded. “There’s nothing back there to go back for, if
that’s what you’re thinking.”
He took a deep breath. “Lynda. There is nothing wrong with liking men, any
number of men, as long as you still like yourself.”
Annoyance creased her brow. “What’s that crack supposed to mean? Hey,
I’ve been walking around down here all day, crying my eyes out over you, and
when I finally find you, you say something like that. What do you think I am?
Do you think I’d take in just anyone?”
“That’s not what I meant!” he protested.
“Then just what the hell did you mean?” Color was staining her cheeks, and
with amazement he realized he had hurt her.
He was surprised at the strength of the remorse he felt. He touched her face
quickly, stroking the hair back from her cheek as he might smooth a pigeon’s
rumpled feathers. She quieted under he touch. He took a deep breath.
“There’s no way I can explain that you will understand. But I’ll tell you
anyway. I’ve got to put the magic back in balance. That means I have to give
more than I get, always. There were questions you asked me when we first met.
You asked me why you should keep on going, you asked me if you had to live
like a nun because your sister thought you should.”
“I don’t remember any of that,” Lynda began, but he put a soft finger over her
lips.
“Maybe not in those exact words, but you asked me. And I had things to tell
you, but I didn’t answer because I didn’t want to talk to anyone who might
endanger me later. I unbalanced things, and I owed you. The more you gave me,
the further unbalanced it became. After tonight, there may never be another
chance for me to put things back in balance. So I have to do it now.”
“You are really sweet, you know that?” She leaned forward to kiss him again,
with no more regard for his words than if they had been empty sweet-talk. She
didn’t know the difference, he realized. Had other men tried to reach her mind,
only to have her shelve their words as verbal foreplay? He felt pity for her and
wondered who had taught her that men and women never really spoke to one
another. She was rattling on. “You don’t have to say thank you to me. It’s okay.