Promises, Obligations and Consequences

[teddi]

"The second color, yellow, does in fact stand for passion.  



"Elias, was as gentle a soul, my people had known, and all with a passion loved him, and so honored by us.  He especially adored the first who willingly took the name of Aeron Deryn.



"Though in Algonquin the actual term for bird is "pinisheezh," the child, was persuasive as seer my ancestors had known, insisting, that events yet to occur centered upon the meanings and intricacies in the usage of words, their juxtaposition, or, in fact, of something as simple as a given name.



"Our former blood enemies those who called themselves the Six Nations were the Oneida, Onandagas, Cayugas, Mohawk and Seneca.  The derisive term for them collectively, is Irinakhoiw, or Iroquois if you desire, and to us it meaning translates as "rattlesnakes."



"Indeed, if you had happened to turn onto Seneca, all would have been lost, for they too had defeated us in battle.



"Julie, the evil Seneca priest, Szach - eh - waneh, took the life of our Elias.  He despised the child not only for his beauty, but also for his voicing of love for a Greater Being, The One, other than his own dark lord.



"Elias could speak all of our languages:  Algonquin, French, and of course, English.  But was also fluent in other languages as well.



"He was passionate in his love of Aeron.  However, his passion was not that of lust but that of an unspoken, almost kindred bond, as if between brother and of older sister.  She was his closet confidant.



"Aeron also, was enamored with the child:  not only through the wondrous tales he would relate, those scribed from the spoken legends concerning ancient warriors and of their battles, nor of his considerable gentleness, or of his sweet voice; for he sang to her on every occasion possible:  even as he bathed, but also with his other talents and abilities.



"Among which it was known that the golden haired child, could commune with nature itself:  and proved it so through the one he called Aquilla.



"Aeron on several occasions would find him face to face with this magnificent bird.  Among the Native Peoples, it is the all seeing messenger of the Creator.  On each occasion, she would not venture near; but respecfully watched from a distance.



"Moreover, on each occasion, except for one, after the bird had taken flight Elias would turn to Aeron, greet her, and tell her the following.  "In the myth, it was foretold what Aquila must do.  "Go down to Earth and sweep your great wings over the land until your jewel-like eyes finds the most beautiful youth in the land, and then deliver him to the Great Hall of Gods.""



"Aeron, I will leave shortly, for I am truly a portion of the legends of which I have spoken."



"The exception I just mentioned was unlike the others and the last between the two; and is of that fateful encounter I shall relate.



As Aeron approached Elias she spoke.  The first portion of the conversation went as follows.  



"Elias, kwey kwey ( Elias, hello )."

Kwey Aeron ( Hellow Aeron ).

"Elias, ninco kidjebawk.  Ki monco pimadic na?  ( Elias, how are you? )  Aneg?  ( What's up? ).



Ni kee way Aeron.  ( I am going home Aeron ).  Tebwe  ( Truthfully ).

Ki madza na? ( Are you leaving? ) Andi e izhaian?  ( Where are you going ? )



Ni kee way, Aeron, wabak.  ( I am going home, tomorrow ).

Wegemen?  ( What? ).

Abtozak.  ( At noon ).

Wegenen?

Abtozak.



"Here Elias paused and pointed to the meadow and spoke once more."



"Minwashin.  ( It is beautiful ).



"Aeron, I am told, he will spread his wings and I will become but a shadow."



"Elias  gave her a soft kiss upon her cheek: spoke but once more.  



"Hide yourself among the thickets, we shall speak of what you have seen later."



"He turned and walked away, with tears in his eyes.



"It was from the forest edge, the next day, that Aeron beheld, not only the slaughter of the innocent Elias, but also, of the shadow, he had become and of the one which accompanied him.  For Aeron herself a priestess, did possess the power to see shadows.  On that day did she realize the significance of the given name.  She was powerless to assist.  Her remorse, her shame, at being so vulnerable and helpless was considerable.  And vowed that if ever afforded the opportunity, she would without hesitation aid one such as him. Regardless of the consequences.



"Here I will wander for the moment.  I used the term "our Elias," for he had been welcomed into our tribe:  as both a member and that of blood brother:  the blood oath taken between himself and Aeron.



Julia, Aeron, his mortal goddes, the one who will oversee the battle or of slaughter; and Deyron, the eagle, the bird, which would attend and guard, the name she had willingly taken, was given to her by ... Elias.



"As foretold, Aquila, took the purest essence of innocents, to the Heavens above and where one had been before, now two sat as one.

[teddi]

"On the ground, near to where the child lay, in a patch of dirt were both a sketching and a written phrase of six words.  From that day forward, both, became a portion of our folklore, and of my ancestry.  Spoken to each and every Sachem, generation to generation, from mother to daughter on down.



"The third color, white, not only expresses sympathy but also purity.  Such was this child."



Aeron ... pauses ... for the moment.  Then resumes.



"Julie Athena, before I continue, I have something of yours.  I "found" it hanging from a gate:  the very same gate, which allowed entry or exit to a very special house on Seminole Avenue:  in Cassadaga.  It is the same gate, which I saw you running through as I turned onto Seminole.  You never bothered to stop, and retrieve it.  Nor, did you bother to turn your car around.  You left as quickly as possible."



Her handbag ... once shielded from sight ...  is now clearly seen.  On either of its sides is an emroidered eagle.  It is centered and pressented as mirror images; sewn upon a background of blue skies, it is in flight, with wings spread, and sharpened talons extended and by appearance, fiercly ready to battle.



Aeron raises the flap covering a side pocket ... stiched to resemble a purple flower ... and reaches inside.  She presents to Mom a bracelet.  As she does ... she speaks to Mother.



"This belongs to you.  As unique a bracelet as I have seen."



Aeron looks to me ... as Mom takes her "lost bracelet" in hand and in astonishment smiles.



"Julie, as you, I was bid entry, without the need to knock.  As you, told to sit at the table.  I too looked upon the silhouette, cast upon the screen and wondered the very same words as you.  "Would I find the truth from a shadow?"  Without my speaking a word, she spoke.



"The answer to your questions is held in your hand.  First, find the jeweler:  as the shadow has bid.  When you are summoned:  attend."  That was her counsel.



"Julie, the design of the bracelet is similar to that of the sketching scribed in the dirt and as found by Aeron.  Obviously, not as ornate, yet it was comprised of two distinct sets of charms:  four interlocked hearts connected to two other interlocking hearts with four seperate tethers.



Aeron continues.  "It took me years to find the jeweler who crafted your piece.  It is a unique design.  Hand made.  Crafted by an individual of exceptional skill and talent.  Your bracelet, is comprised of two distinct seperate and distinct sets of charms.  The first set is four completely separate yet interlocking hearts.



"Also, take notice of the multiple gold chain links, tethered to the second set:  of two slightly larger yet independent and still interlocking hearts.  The total number of  links in this bracelet Julie is two hundred and fity six.



"One enterprising individual, a jeweler by trade, did come upon the name of the artisan who made such a piece.  The secreted last name of the artisan was veiled among the fourth set of links:  Agapp.



"There were several jewelers by that name; yet, only one acknowledged the bracelet as his work.  He claimed that a particulary striking young woman requested this piece as a solitary specialty item.  He even showed me the dated receipt, which bears the maiden name you signed in acceptance:  J. A. Aletheia.  Julie, the date is two days prior to your trip to Cassadaga.



"That is how I came to find Brisa.  His wife.



"Julie Athena, the sketch, found by Aeron, is the same design as your bracelet.  The same design as which lines the inside flap cover of my handbag:  sown by; my great grandmother.    



"Also embroidered are  the six words of which I mentioned.  The same six as both of us had thought and as written by Christopher/Elias: "Find the truth from a shadow."

[teddi]

Damn ...  what am I supposed to say?  Ooops?  I look to both Aeron D. and my Mom ... shrug my shoulders ...  now all I can do is 'fess up.



"Aeron.  I'm sorry ... should I call you that ... or "sister?"   Or ...  Ms. Worthington?  I'm really not all to sure."



Her reply of, "Either sister or Aeron would be fine," and softly adds, "Tebwe."



"Sister?"  As I turn to look at Christine ... she orders me again not to read a single thought ... she looks like a cat that's eaten the canary ...  and nods a "Yes" to me.



"Mom ... I can explain ... but ...  Aeron ... I ... I mean sister? ... geez that sounds weird ... well ...  the bracelet ... she was gonna be my mother ... anyhow ... it was ... kind-a ... a ... mothers day present ... just kind-a early.  And ... uhh ... well ... the six words ... and the number of links ... well we both thought ... at least there was symmetry.  It fit.   "In more ways than one."



"But Mom ... " as I try to talk Mom beckons me to stand right in front of her.   I know the sign language. The first finger most always points at me.  Then it's sorta like trying to egg-on a fish to nibble at the baited hook.  Her head is moving ... slowly ... up and down while her first finger plays the line ... 'cept now ... at the end ... the finger is pointing to the spot where the hooked fish ... ME ... is gonna be netted.  Jeez how I hate fish!



I try to speak as I stand and slowly peel my wet butt off the bed.  At least now ... my stomach doesn't feel all that bad anymore.  



"But ..." I take a quick glance down and back ... the obvious darkened spot on the light blue cover ...  is there for all to see ... the wet spot says it all.  I cringe as I try to continue my explanation.



"But I dont know a thing about Brisa ... I mean Mrs. Agapp.  Honest Mom.  Damn it ...  "herrr" daughter ... "Mayy-linn-da"... the picture girl ... she haunted every one of my dreams!  Why would I invite "herr?"



I never used a three letter word like a four letter one before!



"Always at the beginning ... and always at the end of each and everyone of them ... I'd have to look at ... at "herr" face!  Mom doesn't say a word, just smiles and turns me around to face ... herr ... "Oh Crap!"



Mayy-linn-daa ... well ... looks like she's blown off what I said ... since her eyes are scoping every inch of me.  Makes me feel like I'm gonna be the main course ... 'cause it looks like she's licking her chops!



I don't have to be a mind reader to know what Mom's gonna do.  She's gonna scale me!  Peel me like a banana!  A quick glance to Christine ... she's leaning forward ... like she's sitting on the edge of her seat.



Mom undoes "my" two-inch sandals ... and with a flick of her fingers against the back of my heels gives me the unspoken signal to step out of 'em.  Mom tosses them to the side ... the "plop - clunk" of them both hitting the tile floor in the bathroom is clearly heard.



Now ...  as her fingers start to unzip the dress ... it looks like Mayy-linn-da would be more than eager to want to do the same to me as a stand in.  Guess she's picked up on the "day as he was born" part.  Ain't she gonna be disappointed!



I mean her eyes are getting wider and for the first time the face ... which always looked the same ... so one dimensional ... so distant and isolated to me ... now features more than a casual interest.  I think to myself ... she's gonna devour me!  Even I know that when a girl smacks her lips ... that's gotta be more than casual!



Aside, loudly and to all within:  "O.K. Go ahead and smirk!  See if I care!"



Mayy-linn-da acts as if I'm actually talking to ... her!  She doesn't have a clue!



I try to head Mom off, "Uhh, Mom ... I don't think this is such a good idea.  Can't I just take this stuff off in private ... like ... in the bathroom? Besides ...  you turned me around to face "herr."  Why sould I actually want to look at her or even talk to her!  "Sides ... look at the way she's looking at me!  Please?!"



"Anyhow ... I already know her face ... every bit of it!  Doesn't look the same as the picture I keep seeing.  Besides ... it's almost as if she's trying to hide something!  I mean if I looked as ..... well ... like she did in the picture ... why would I hide it?"



With the last word barely spoken ...  Mom eases the blush pink dress of my shoulders ... allows it to fall to the hardwood floor and chortles to me "Chris, just a jump to the left," and quickly if you please!"



Without thinking I do as she asks.  But ... before the same moment my feet have hit the floor ...  Mom is just as quickly pulling on the bottom of the slip ... down off my hips.  Then the same instant both feet and slip touch the floor I unconsciously "take a step to the right."



Being totally embarrassed, "I put my hands on my hips and bring my knees up tight!"



As soon as I realize what I've done I turn around to look at Mom's face.  With all the seriousnes she can muster ... giggles to me.  "The devil made me do it!"  She show's me her crossed fingers, her kings-x, and adds, "Sorry, couldn't resist.  It had certain symmetry!"



All I can do is mutter, "Ohh, Mommy."



I turn to the arch ... of course I see what'd you'd expect!  Aeron ... the same.  The Gallery of the Gods ... they're rotflta off!



My sister ... Christine ... that is ... yea her too.  'Cept now she looks like the Cheshire cat!  Looks to Mom and says " Told ya!"



Acknowledgement:  Rocky Horror Picture Show - "Time Warp"

[teddi]

Boy am I really pissed ... and in more ways than one!



I jump Christina's bones, "You know Christine ...  your laughing and giggling but it's not all that funny! Well ... maybe a little that is.  Ha. Ha. Ha.  But even you know it's not only that ... or really the clothes ... well O.K. sorta them too ... kinda.  I mean look at me!  Pink net stockings held up by a garter belt!  Crap!  even the straps show!



"Damn! Even the bra you made me wear shows through this flimsy blouse just like a girls would!  I meant shirt.  Golly ... ponytails ... bows ... and ... and make up?!  And these dumb short-shorts with the butterfly on 'em ... why does almost everything you or Mom made we wear have them on 'em?



"Why?  Didn't I already look too much like a girl?!  The Theatre of the Absurd ... that's what you called it ... and ... and "misdirection is the key" that's what you said.  But all of this is ridiculous!"



The three within are uncontrolled with their fits of laughter!  I can barely cope and now ... feels like my transmission is slipping ... my whining is getting louder and it seems like I'm going nowhere fast.



"But what really ticks me off ... really ... you said ... "Everyone I'd ever been.  They all know!"  That they knew something that I didn't and that it was "sorta like a pact that remained among friends."  You know I said that to Dad.  But I sure as hell had nothing to do with her!  I point towards the female bother and add "Honest! And neither did they! Any of 'em ...  least that I know of.  But right now ... all of them ... they're bouncing off the walls!



"I promised I wasn't going to read you ... so tell me ... I'm already fried in more ways than one!  Now this Mayy-linn-da ... crap! ... I was going to face her ... but she wasn't supposed to see me like this!  You were going to "fix me up?!"  Ohh sure!  What's left to fix up?!  I really don't understand at all.



Christine stands and moves to face me.  I notice that at least where she sat ... the impression left is dry.  Only my obvious failing glares back at me ... and it can't be missed by anyone else!  As I stare at the wet spot Christine starts to talk out loud to me.  "Cept after the first couple of words I know it sure ain't Christina that's gonna pierce my ears!



"I understand why you do not think it funny, and your tears, the many you have shed, in horror and frustration are not in vain; and as for her not looking the same, you have much to learn about make-up!"



She comes to face up to me ... eye to eye ... well almost ...  two inches means a lot to a guy.



In surprise I mouth the word "YOU!"



"My sweet and beautiful Astyanax, Christopher/Elias, and here I shall add Joachem.  No one ever said you did, I believe you.  Tebwe.  I did.



"Mikizw, the Eagle would not work within the paradigm.  Neither would Piniksheezh, the bird, to fullfill the spoken prophesy; only one word, Deryn, as used by William, your Welsh father, would suffice.  The double entendre was purposeful.  On the other hand, as you have stated, my sweet, containing symmetry.



"For someone who has been as clever as you have, sometimes you cannot see the forest for the trees, or even through the thickets!  Did you not promise with your spoken words that we would speak later?  Always have you kept your promises and hold those who promise you to the same.



"Did I not promise, that regardless of the consequences that I would help one as you?



"It was but a day ago as you rested your head in my lap and nursed yourself.  I was certain you recognized not only my caresses but also the way we had sat, by the fires in the longhouses during the cold winters or in the wigwams, many past summer evenings of long ago.  Obviously not, for those too did she veil from your sight.



"With your head cradled in my lap, and as you wept in your sleep, I heard not only your screams of terror but also your wish for it all to cease, that you desperately desired a love and of dreams to come.  Tebwe, my sweet, you speak as you sleep.



"When our common angel, Athena spoke the words, "...her silent prayers are heard" and "her entreaties shall soon become evident in a short time," not to be too sarcastic, nor too witty, but, as your Christine would say, and with but a days waking notice, this is as "...short a time" as it gets.



"Not only was She speaking of your Christina:  my sweet, but also of the one who first willingly took the name of Aeron Deryn, and that of Krystal, who too championed your cause.



I use the word "championed" ... for it is taken to be someone, a supreme victor in a contest of sorts, entered into either by himself or as a member of a group.  It may also be taken as a defender of something, of someone, or of another.  Additionally, it is, or may be, a remarkable person of achievement or excellence:  lastly, though not the least, a warrior, a knight, or a noble, who fought in behalf of a sovereign in other times.



Astyanax/Elias/Joachem/and Christopher, all one and the same:  four interlocking hearts.



Aeron Deryn and Christina Athena both one and the same.  The two, slightly larger, yet still interlocked hearts forever tethered to the other four.  Always, from the day we became as one - have you been my brother, and I your sister.  You becoming a part of me - as I became a part of you.  For my sweets, I willingly and by design, became your ___ unborn ____ sister; Krystal, never the living one:  as I once was.  Cheerily, my sweet, thanks to you, shall I be again.



"Think Christopher.  The hesitation, in your unbecoming description of "her" belies your understanding.  My sweet, reflect on the word I have now used six times.  Does it not fill the halting void in both your speech and what you felt but mere moments ago?



"As for the butterfly, permit the analogy.  Think also of Aquila.  How did you bring it to my attention on those many clear eves?  Look about you.  You have seen but do not understand, though the connection is evident, and crystal clear.



"Joachem, my brother, I too have watched over you.  Did I not knowingly suffer the blow?  Thereby becoming stillborn ... yet ultimately successful.  Mother's hands, that caressed me as they did you, were helpless, and  to no avail, would they erase the damage within; yet, so clearly revealed.  Did I not soothe your days with my touch?  However, most importantly, did I first not lead you to the one you adored:  Thor?

[teddi]

Even the keeper of the aviary recognized the bond to one another.  My sweet, the tears you had cried for so many others, truly, then as now, needed to be your own.  Think of Aquila.  "There in shall hold the key."



Lastly my brother, the additional years which were yours, beyond all others, were freely mine to give; and did so.  Why would I?   Look to your carousel for by your own hand, it glares at you.



Christopher, my sweet, as we both know, this "game," ludus duodecim scriptorium, required the sacrificing of players to achieve an end:  victory.  It was only until the last contest did you willingly entertain that thought, for the souls, of those, you had been, were the treasured players at risk upon the board game; not mere, idle objects.  Each one was priceless and dear to you.



My little wanderer, you lacked but one more, a vital second "player:" to triumph.  Despite your guile, you needed additional time:  and before the dice were cast, you pleaded, "Please, but a "second" more.



Indeed, my prince, my little one, when you looked into his eyes, you took much from the one who cast you from the precipice.  The very same who himself did hide within the giant horse he had created to lay waste to Troy.



Likewise, how crafty were your choice of words with Whom you played the game.



"A second more,"  I truly laugh at its double meaning:  that used as a measure of time, or of one to take your place, a stand in if you will.  You orchestrated "each step" even "down" to your birth; following that of your sister by "four" minutes and "twenty-three seconds," not twenty two.  I, as Krystal, was the extra "second"required.



All else, contained symmetry.  You were undeniably creative.  Now, are you still as creative and insightful as you once were?  You are now but a "hairs" difference."



She pauses ... and my sister Christine ... for a second ... well I know it's her 'cause she's mouth wide opened thunderstruck ... don't think she saw that coming.  Aeron ... I mean Krystal ... my sister ... O.K. ... I give up ... why bother ... it's only a name!



Well whoever I'm gonna call her ... starts to talk again and just as quick the look of astonishment just melts away ... she smiles ... real nice at me and continues.



"But as we know, honesty is and always has been, your coin of choice.  Again I must laugh."  She looks directly at Mom,  "Mother, the receipt of which my living sister spoke contained your maiden name:  Julia Athena Aletheia, if you will, please give it to my brother"



Sure I'm puzzled ... O.K. more than that.  But Mom's face looks almost amused.  As I take the paper and start to read it ... Astyanax starts howling with laughter ... then almost as quick Elias and Joachem join him ... crap! ... I know it's nothing to laugh at ... and tell 'em so!



Aside and loudly:  "This is no joke! ... or ... is it?



Astyanax puts his six sense in and tells me to repeat the part of the paradigm he's picked up on ... so I do ... but silently to myself ... well almost.  As an afterthought he adds ... "Then will come wisdom, the veil of hazed ambiguity will be pierced, we are the reason She is here."



I grumble back loudly, "Why do you always have to talk so ... so ... formally?"



Only giggles are their collective reply.



I look at Mom.  Then back to the receipt.  Then back to Mom.  I don't know whether to laugh or cry ... both will do.



I look down to the hardwood floor ... so does Mom ... my glaring liquid problem ... well ... what's left is now running down my legs and starting to puddle.



Out of the corner of my eye to the right I glance at the full-length mirror on the back of my closet door.  The short shorts I'm wearing are all but soaked ... front and back.  The inseams of the stockings look like they have deep pink pinstripes on 'em.  'Cept they're a lot wider.  Only the butterfly on the right leg appears to be dry.



Lastly, I take a quick look up at my face ... actually, I'm kind-a pleasantly surprised.  I thought Christine said this stuff wouldn't hold up to water ... and that we'd look like racoons.  It dawns on me ... everything she used was waterproof!  My head turns to my devious sister as I mutter to her "you dirty rotten crosser."  Her impish smiles stares back as she chuckles to me ... "Long lasting.  Can't wait to take you shopping!"  I can just imagine what Melinda is thinking.



What the hell?!  Why would I think or really care what Melinda is thinking?  I try to casually turn and look back over my right shoulder ... and for some reason actually wanting to see her again.  For the first time ever ... I stare at her from head on down.  In my minds eye I capture every part of her ...  but now I pay closer attention ... especially to her face.



Those within are silent and approving.



Of course ... her face doesn't look the same ... because now ... ever so slowly ... tears are making their way down across her smooth and unblemished cheecks.  Falling from the unforgettable sky blue eye's I know so well.  Obviously caused by my "unbecoming description of her."



No ... honestly ... it wasn't unbecoming ... it was indecent.  I made a girl cry?  Did I just think "unblemished?'  Some "noble" I've turned out to be!  Why would I think about how I can ever look at her again and not feel ashamed?  Right now ... I don't care what I'm dressed in ... all I know is that I have to apologize for being such a dic-khead!



I laugh quietly.  "Catharsis."  I'd looked the word up ... the word does have symmetry.  "It fits in more ways than one!  Those within agree and the Gallery of the Gods ... nod their approval.



But where do I start first?  To me ... for the moment ... it is obviously with "my" Mom.



It has been a while but I begin by using it as I should, "Mother ...

[teddi]

"...your name ... I mean your maiden name "Aletheia" ... is part of the paradigm.



"Your name doesn't only mean "truth" like in not telling lies.  It means more, a whole lot more.



"The last name means someone or something that brings healing and ..." I turn my head away from her eyes 'cause now I'm really embarrassed ... "and ... and trust.  I guess another but better word is sincere:  like honest and truthful.  And it means to uncover something that's been hidden and make it clear whatever the consequences ... it doesn't have to be connected to something that you see ..."



Oh crap!  Aquila ... the complete legend!  Is ... connected to something that you see" ... make-up!  Joachem! ... the carousel ... your ... "sorry Mom ... it isn't a brain fart ... honest!"  While at the very same moment, I think ... yes ... Christina may have been thunderstruck but to me there are not enough words to think of to describe it!  Well maybe gob smacked will do for a start.  Yea, I'm still crying ... but for a lot of reasons ...I continue to think to myself ... as I carry on.



"Sorry Mom ... so when you see it ... it is the "first act" of truth.  I mean if you didn't see it to start with how would you find out or understand what you were looking for."



I turn from looking at Mother to Melinda while at the same time I consciously fill in the blank "in my halting speech" and right out loud state the word to her face.  "Melinda. "Sweet."  That's the word I didn't say.  "If my face looked as "sweet" why would I want to hide it?"  May I ask your forgiveness for being such a ... a ... brute?"  Then whisper the remainder ... "How can I have been so blind?"  Guess I really do have a lot to learn about make-up."





My fractured attention returns to Mom.  "Mother how can I forget your words, "My God, what both of you have thought of me, I am at a loss, to explain the emptiness that consumes me."  I don't have to be too insightful ... because that is really part of it ... the paradigm.  "It is her shame the lesson he would learn."  



"I understand everything.  That's why you were so upset before.  The other half ... "for only the truth will he speak, it is all he has known," is also factual.  As for what I had thought of you, Mother, you were the only one that I truly wanted.  I chose you because everything "fit,"to help me, the rest of us, "in more ways than one."



"Just a couple of minutes ago you said "even a mother "like me" can tell when her son goes up and down the stairs."  When you said "like me" I thought you were putting yourself down.  Again, just to make sure you know, when I met you the first time I wanted a mother just like you, and now more than ever still do.  Tebwe, your name Aletheia is what I had searched for:  and found.  I understand and trust you.



Without hesitation, I again turn to Melinda.  I close my eyes and let Christina do the looking.  "Mom ... when Aeron ... my newest sister came upstairs she said "thanks" to Mrs. Agapp ... "for the calls."  But ... Mrs. Agapp really didn't invite her ... here that is.  In fact, the main reason Mrs. Agapp came with Melinda was to make sure that this wasn't all a set up.  Oh ... sorry Mrs. Agapp ... you missed this part ... you were too busy talking on the phone to my new sister ... Aeron.  Anyhow ... if my sister Christine touches someone or anyone else touches her, now I even get to know what they'd all been thinking about ... I mean it's like being inside their head without them knowing it's happening.



I turn to my sister ... my loving imp ... but still keep my eyes closed.  "Christine, this is really important ... please just stand by Melinda.  Please ... its not you I want to read but Melinda ... the picture girl in my dreams."



My head twists to my dream girl, "Melinda I'm telling you the truth and you've got to know.  Truth is, I've had some pretty bad nightmares, ever since I can remember; and for me, that's a long, long time.  Before each one started, and after each one ended, yours was the face that stared at me:  always the same, never changing.



"You can see my eyes are closed and my head is now turned away.  There are two reasons.  The first, is that I'm really ashamed of how I spoke to you.  I really don't think I can look at you and not feel even more terribly ashamed than I do now.  So for right now this is a lot easier for me.



"Secondly, I know every thing about your face there is to know.  Where should I start?  With your light blue eyes, the gently curled eyelashes or your soft eyebrows?  I could  go on about the patrician nose, an those thin lips, which form your Mona Lisa smile.  Should I add the softly rounded chin, or perfectly balanced ears and naturally rosey cheeks or even you hair color?  Even its style was as it is now.



"But I know it only from one line of sight, straight on, face to face, almost eye to eye.  Do you know how frustrating it is never to be able to look behind a picture that never changes?  I said your face didn't look the same.  It doesn't.  If I looked as sweet as you why would I hide it?



"Melinda, your freckles, all nineteen of them are covered with make-up.  You have no idea of how many times I have counted them.  I mean if your trying to not have horrible dreams why not concentrate on the one that isn't killing you!   Besides, the freckles on your face mean something other than just the beauty marks that they are.  They're a key to what is happening here, right now.



"I needed to see you.  Really.  I asked Christina to get you to come here.  Mostly because if I walked with just you I didn't want to be mistaken for the way everyone had looked at me before.  Like a girl.  Guess you still can't tell the difference.



"But your Mom thought this was all a set up.  Some bozo threatened you and she wanted to make sure that he wasn't using Christina as a pawn just to get at you.



"Mrs. Agapp, well that's really not your whole name, you had it shortened to accommodate the jewelry store you own in the mall:  Agappi Jewelry.  Thats how you come by those big diamond rings and really unique looking earrings.  Oh, if it means anything, your late husband, Mr. Agappimenous, shortened it.  Said Agappi meant more.  "Lovely Jewelry." You just dropped the "I" as a matter of convenience.  Your thoughts not mine.



"Christine, please, just let Melinda touch your shoulder.  Wait, better yet, give her a note pad and pen.  Melinda, write down only something you know and then, let your Mom read it over your shoulder, but don't let Christine read it.  In fact, Christine, turn your back to me, then just let Melinda touch your shoulder.  And to make doubly sure, have Melinda go into the hallway then she can write whatever it is in secret.  Then all of you'll know I'm telling the truth."



My impish sister replies, "No problem-o" but again with a silly laugh adds, "My little one."  I just shake my head a whisper, "Now I'm really never gonna live that nick name down."  While Christine is getting the pen and pad from my desk Mom taps me on the shoulder and nicely asks, "Chris, please turn around and face me."  Without consideration, I do so then open my eyes.



As she points down to the floor, she tenderly continues, "We're going to have to do something about that."  Looking down I can't miss it.  I'm still leaking like a sieve.  Her right hand finds its way to my chin, then with her soft touch, she gently raises it to look at her.  I see the first finger of her left hand pressing to her lips, as she shakes her head, "No," then with the same finger points to me.



Even with her affectionate attempt to soothe what she says:  I dread her words, "We both know you needed to be changed before, I'm sorry, but now, it really can't wait any longer."



Ohh geez!  I can't believe it.  I close my eyes and moan.  Moms fingers begin unbuttoning my blouse.  I meant shirt.  Crap!  I'm going to be disgraced again.  She softly eases it off my shoulders.  Just great!  Now everyone can see my bra!  It's not bad enough that everyone knows I have a problem, I should be called "Eu-drip-ides.  Its going to get worse if that's at all possible.



Mom reaches behind me and undoes my bra.  I mean the one Christine gave me.  Oh isn't this all so peachy keen!  I thought at least when I had to face Dad, it be in private.  Damn, now even my privates, whatever I have, are going public!  Ha. Ha. Ha.  Guess everyone is going to see my "little one."  



With that last thought the short shorts are pulled away from my hips and eased down to the floor.  As I step out of them, I'm, what's the word ... yea ... mortified!  I don't want to even watch what gonna happen next!  Good god, isn't this just so absolutely fantastic! ... Christine, the scamp,  is transmitting the video feed fromwhere she's standing.  



It does get worse, Melinda has returned from the hallway and has taken a spot in front of Christine.  It's pretty obvious: not my sagging pullups, or the garter belt and these stupid stockings, no, what's obvious is that Melinda's  trying to stiffle her laughter with one hand as she holds the pad with the other.  I want to scream but what good would it do?  



Melinda continues to look on as Mom now unfastens the stockings from the garter belt and ...

[teddi]

"... begins to roll them down my legs:  first the right then the left.  Each is neatly rolled down and find their way to rest about my ankles.  From Christina's point of view, both look like dark pink fitted donuts.  Christine giggles silently to me, "Stylish, but they'd look a lot better with some white lace and powder blue satin bows in the back!"  What am I supposed to say?  I just whimper my reply, "Yea right Christine, really stylish, lace and satin bows, just what I'd want."



Mother looks to her, and scowls as she shakes her head, additionally replying to the comeback that I've made to my sister, "Christina, please, now is not the time to tease your brother.  This is going to be hard enough on him as it is."



Christine merrily chortles back, "Mom, I'd bet you the other half of my allowance that it sure will be "hard on" him!"  Christine's quick glance around the room leaves no doubt as to what everyone else thinks.  The only face I can't see is Melinda's.



I consider trying to parry her comment with one of my own; but remain silent and think to myself, "Guess I'll just have to grin and bare it."



To her left, Mother bends to reach for the towel that just minutes ago muffled my screams and thankfully lifts it for me to take.  As soon as it touches my hand, I bury my face in it, and while I do not cry out, there is no doubt as to what else I am doing.  My muffled sobs and gasping for air; are both synchronized to the visible writhing of my back and spastic motions of my shoulders.



Without a prompt I lift my right foot to allow Mom to remove the perceived incomplete confection.  Mom tosses it into the bathroom.  Likewise, the left one quickly follows suit.



Mother hesitates to reach for the garter belt.  For but a moment I ease the towel from my face and both painfully, pleadingly, whisper, "Mom, don't wait, just get this over with, please."  At least for this part Christine does take some sympathy on me and closes her eyes.  At last, I'm in the dark.



Not a moment later, and as gently as she can manage, with but a slight tug, Mom removes the garter belt.  From the sound of it, off to my right, I imagine that it too has found the way to the bathroom floor.  I am almost envious; I wish I could curl up and hide there as well.



What was expected to follow - does not.  I realize that again, Mother has faltered.  Instead of removing the pull-ups, she now pulls me close, pauses, then hugs me even closer to her chest.



This is like being thrown off a cliff and only I can end the agony of waiting.  I know what will happen.  I whisper, "Now."



Mother's soft embrace markedly changes  to one of firmness and determination.  No longer do her arms hold me close.  Now with resolve the loving cuddle has been altered.  Both hands move to my shoulders; becoming confident and resolute.



Only two within snigger to my thought:  This is "deja vu all over again."  Then fall silent, embarrassed at their musing, the third, conspicuously stilled.



Mother pushes me away from her and softly emplores, "Be brave."



I whisper my response, "Astyanax, help me."



Now, with firmer grasp, she pushes me away from her.  For as her hands move down to my waist, and begin to tear away the object of my disgrace, I once again can feel the coolness in the air as it rushes past my falling form.



I ease the towel from my face and turn my head into the cool breeze, as it too falls, from the air conditioning vent:  Astyanax and Christopher:  one and the same.



Before only half the garment is torn and pulled from my waist, Mother's sudden gasp and voicing "Dear God in Heaven," is clearly heard:  by all.  Even quicker than torn away; she presses it to my waist again.  A soft tug on the towel coupled with her request to me, "Chris, let go of the towel, please," leaves me both startled and bewildered.



I trust her, but why would she ask me that?  The tug gently turns to pull.  I let go.  Now, as I cover my eyes with both hands I feel the towel being wrapped around my waist.  Only when completed, and  from under the towel does she tear away the remainder.  I cannot help but think that there is more involved than my modesty.



Slowly and with fear I open my eyes to look at Julie Athena Aletheia; my Mother, and ask with apprehension the question I fear the answer to, "Nu er fyrir?"  Mother does not reply.  Only her eyes move to look into mine.