In truth, there is no better place to be Than falling out of darkness still to see Without a premonition, could you tell me where we stand? I'd hate to lose this light before we land And when I feel like I can feel once again Let me stay awhile, soak it in awhile If we can hold on, we can fix what is wrong Buy a little time for this head of mine Haven for us "Wet Cement" "...That was good. That was really...really good. It feels so good...to be here again." Sigh. "I never thought I would miss you so much...or need you so bad...or be so happy with you around. Go on, you can say it. I did something idiotic." "What're you talkin' about? We both did something stupid. We're both at fault here. Just...gimme time to blame meself, too. I let you go, after all." "Yes, but I...abandoned you." "Oh, for the love o' yer young life, and who can blame ya for that?" Pause. "Do you think...this time it's for good?" "Mm, I hope so, my sweet Gabrielle. How foolish I was to give you up like that! I can't believe it! You must think I am the worst person ever." "But if I thought that, precious Lilian, I wouldn't have made sweet passionate love to you just now." Laughter. The albino drew her beloved up and drank deep the sweet love-nectar of her girlfriend's mouth, feeling soft, salty skin soaked light with sweat. They sighed and moaned softly, then rested, bare skin against bare skin, red hair meshing faintly with silvery locks. "I'm so glad," Gabrielle said quietly, "that we both came to our senses." "Yes. Don't you think it's strange that we broke up not long after my birthday, and got back together not long after yours?" "...Oh yeah, I never thought of it like that." Lilian smiled sadly. "By the way, Happy Birthday, sweet one. I'm sorry I didn't come to your party...and I'm so sorry I dumped you. Do you forgive me?" O'Shannon smiled sweetly. "Of course. Don't worry about me party; me other friends couldn't make it as well. I had a quiet one. And didn't I say that I didn't blame you for our separation? Ramona was a catch, to be sure. I'd still like to meet her some day. And let's not forget I gave you up without a fight, so like I said, again, we're both at fault, love." Lilian smiled dreamily, her fingers amidst a sea of reddish bliss as she combed through her lover's hair. "Gabrielle, meine schatzie, love of my life... I lost you and my sanity; I gave them up; I sold them off for my selfishness. Thank God I got them both back!" "Hey," she whispered, "don't cry, Lil. Don't cry." Kisses against moist sobbing skin, smiles and gentle stares, love after love: "Let's put it behind us now. The fact of the matter is that we're both sorry, and we've both forgiven each other, and we're back together again, to stay! Let's not mix up cement that's just been laid." Lilian gave her lover a confused look, though in that dark room, it was hard to see. "Wha? Cement?" "Oh, some analogy I heard somebody say; I don't know how to word it. But the idea is that our relationship is back to the way it's supposed to be, and we should just be glad of it. Don't let sleeping dogs lie, I suppose." Lilian chuckled faintly and caressed her lover's beautiful skin, two white hands going everywhere, stopping at last at her lips. "I think you have the expression wrong, but I know what you're saying. Let's let the cement dry, then, if that's the case." "Oh, but cement takes a long time to dry." "Ja, but when it's done, it's worth it. So strong, so firm!" She hissed lustfully and squeezed Gabrielle's arms, wriggling her latent muscles. The redhead laughed and tickled Lilian: it was the first chapter of a brand-new story for them, or else a revision of an old one, a favorite, one they loved very much and only got better with the improvement. ...... When Abi Cerio agreed to give Janna Raulson a second chance, she compared their relationship to wet cement as well. Raulson didn't expect Abi to agree to another date, especially since she had sworn harshly against the younger woman the last time her heart had been broken, but desperation, curiosity, and strange convenience made many minds forget past woes, or at worst, look at them as being "not that bad". Such was their case: Abi offered, and Janna accepted. "This relationship is like wet cement, dear," Abi told her on their date. "Initially, it's all mixed up, but cement needs to be mixed up in order to be cement. Likewise, no relationship is without its quirks. Now once we've gotten over the fact that our relationship is going to be strange, we can move on to actually making something solid. Typically cement is put into a square, as you see on the sidewalk, but let's pretend ours is more like...a sphere, or something." "Why a sphere?" "When cement dries, it has to take some kind of shape," Abi told her. "Cement can't stay wet and muddy forever; otherwise it's no good. And the same with any relationship: it has to be formed into something. And of course, once it's formed into that, it's very hard to make it into something else, at least not without great effort and pains. I'm just saying let's make it a sphere because that's the first nice thing that came into my head." "...Oh. I think I understand." Abi gave her new (or old) girlfriend a smile, then a friendly peck on the cheek. "That's good. Well, to finish the analogy, once cement is dry, it's very strong, right? Not easily broken. And when any relationship finds its shape and solidifies, it can stand up to a whole lot. It's not invincible by any means, but certainly strong." "And you know," added Janna, "if cement is removed from the sidewalk, it's a very difficult process, and I'm sure it hurts." Abi made a face; Janna got the feeling she had screwed up. "Mm...you could...say it like that. It sounds like you understand in any case. So, Miss Raulson, where would you like to go on our new date? I've got some places in mind, but I'd love to hear your input." "Oh, I'm game for anything," Janna said with a gesture, "as long as it's nowhere near a casino. You know me and my gambling." "Yeah, really. Well, since you're so poor, I'll restrain myself when it comes to dinner. I'm on a diet anyway." ...... It was nice to get out once in awhile—Em was beginning to think she actually lived in the school science lab—and being with her fellow instructors was a plus. But the real fun of the day was Sarah, her new girlfriend (technically speaking), and what a sweet, refreshing woman she was! She had the brains of Dr. Andrews without the acidic core, the personality of Andeira Torvald without the flakiness, the cheer of Janna Raulson without the bad habits, and to her delight, she was unavoidably drawn to "wild" or "bad" women, and who was wilder than Miss McGowen herself? "I dunno why we ever broke up," she stated to her friends (she and Sarah went double-dating with Elsie Post and Chef Vee, a couple far too sickeningly sweet for their own good). "We're practically perfect for each other. I suppose some things merit multiple discoveries. You can't tell everything there is about anything unless you've given it another look." "Oh, yes," said Sarah with a laugh; "you've ‘examined' me several times all over, Professor." The two of them laughed, and Elspeth and Sonia might've blushed if they didn't have stories to tell. It was actually more like a strange fairy tale: they had been friends for years, but doomed to always run into the wrong kind of love situation. Elspeth hopelessly pined over her old teacher, and Sonia...well, it was best not to dig that up again. They were fortunate to have their eyes opened, to realize how great it would be to see each other—not only as friends, but lovers as well—and to be able to put all their past dealings behind them. "So your cement is just about dried," Sarah told them. She explained the analogy, but they didn't quite get it. "Well, we're still taking things day by day," answered Elspeth. "But I'm sure we've got the right idea, this time at least. I know I've made the right choice." She and Sonia stared dreamily into each other's eyes, and made a spectacle of kissing each other and giggling. Everyone at Stanton had long ago given up on cooing over the two, saying how badly they needed this love in their life, and how great they were together: now, they were just sickening. They didn't need to get a room, they needed a whole country to themselves. "This is gonna take awhile," Emma murmured to her date. "You want to go to the bathroom? I feel like puking my lungs out." "Oh hush, they're so darling together," Sarah hissed, slapping her—but in truth, even she had gotten tired of the two. Well...as long as they were happy, she could tolerate it. Their cement was in no danger of breaking: Sonia was clingy and Elspeth was desperate. She and Emma exchanged a glance, all but forgotten by their acquaintances, and knew they'd have to ride out the rest of the evening by themselves. "Check please," said McGowen, raising her hand. ...... Even though they were officially back together again, Blake and Usha were both so busy that they rarely had time to spend with each other. Usha was straining with all her activities (President of the Junior Class, member of the debate team, member of the Gay and Straight Alliance, President of the Death Cult of Bush), so all her free time was focused on homework and sleeping—frankly about all she could spare. Blake might've felt left out if she didn't have her own agenda; being on track and the soccer team debilitated her schedule as well. Whenever they could spare moments together, they went and pored over their schedules, seeking out a long stretch of free time where they would have each other to themselves for a whole day, at least. With Spring Break now over, this was hard to do, but they managed to find holes. There was a special field trip planned early in April, and they also had a few weekends to steal, but those wouldn't come up until after all the games were over. In the meantime, they would have to be content with these short meetings and every class they took together. They hardly had any time at all, even to spend the night together, and they were usually too exhausted to "attend" to each other. "We gotta get new lives," Blake moaned with a smile. Usha agreed. "I don't think we'll have opportunities like this in the future, though, so we have to take them. By the way, when's your first game?" "Uh...I think it's later this week." "You think? You're in it, aren't you?" "Yeah," she said, digging her finger inside her ear to scratch it. "But I don't pay attention to all that. You know me, I'm all over the place." "Well, you show lots of focus on the field...and in bed," muttered Krishnan shyly. Blake beamed. "That's because I have two very wonderful things to keep my mind on! What's better than the greatest game on Earth and the sexiest woman alive?" "Oh, stop," said Usha, chuckling softly. They shared a rare embrace and went back to work. Usha would be at Blake's game, no question about that, and every other one after that, even if it wasn't important. She used to obsess over the women's soccer team for practical reasons, but now that she was in love with one of the players, she had a whole other reason for going. Besides, who else was going to greet Blake in the locker room and "help" her wash up? "So, in conclusion," Blake pointed, "this field trip's our best bet. Hmm. I'm gonna have to talk to Gab and Lil sometime later. I've got an idea, maybe some way for all of us to get together again, like we did before autumn." "You mean that swimming pool incident?" "Yeah. Lil's got an indoor pool at her estate, but I don't know if she'll let us use it. I mean, I'm pretty sure; I just haven't asked her permission. Chances are good, though." Usha thought it was a good idea, and as the lunch bell rang to separate them, she promised to dress extra nice for that day. Blake couldn't help but stare at her as she left, but she didn't focus on Usha's shapely rear end—rather, her hair: so long, silky, black as tar and scented so deliciously! It felt even better matted against her chest during the night as they made love... "Whoa!" she exclaimed, snapping out of her daydream. She noticed the cafeteria clock, telling her she was already late for her next class. Rubbing her head she muttered, "I gotta stop doing that!", and ran off before she got in real trouble. ...... Nomi Nakatori woke up, worry already creasing her face. It was that same fantasy of hers, all over again. She was with Amina, and the two were...engaged with each other, though at a level far more passionate than they had ever reached in real life. And Nomi, Nomi herself, had Amina's panties off and was...gorging herself on the other girl's private area! She took a deep breath and covered her face, an attempt to bring herself back into the living world. If it had been a dream, she might not have been so worried, because she couldn't control those. But a fantasy was pure wishful imagination, and those she could make by herself. "I'm not gay," she whispered, doubting her words. "...Am I?" She knew she had to talk to somebody, and there was only one person in the whole house she was comfortable with: her own mother. Rising out of bed and throwing a robe on, she waddled through the dark house and came into the kitchen, knowing her mother would be there making breakfast. The smell of bacon and faint morning perfume drew her in, and she tried to smile as her eyes met those of her mother's. "Morning, dear," said the senior Nakatori, pouring milk in a glass. "Hey mom. Uh, listen, can I talk to you for a moment?" Her mother smiled, stopped everything she was doing, and sat down, two glasses in hand. "I'm at your disposal. What's on your mind?" "Uh...well, you know my friend Amina, right?" "Yeah, and I know her mother too." That was putting it lightly; the two had slept together once, during a "shared weak moment". "Well, uh, I kind of...have something delicate to ask you about that." Her mother was a patient woman, so she kept her tongue and listened for the big one. Nomi took a deep breath, wanting to word this just right. "Mom, do you think...having sexual thoughts about...other girls makes me gay?" Mrs. Nakatori smiled softly. Having been in this situation before, she had wrestled with the question herself, so she knew what her daughter felt and what she needed to hear. "Well, let me put it this way. If you're tempted to steal something—say, a book from the store—that's not entirely wrong, but if you actually go and do it, it is. Everybody's tempted, dear, even the Lord Himself was. But it's the act of following that temptation and doing it, such as stealing the book, that makes a person a thief. I know it's a bad analogy, but you get what I'm saying, don't you? In other words, you're not entirely gay unless you act upon it. It's hard to control our thoughts, so don't think you're doing anything wrong." Nomi smiled at her mother's wisdom and thanked her. She was afraid that her mother would think her a homosexual—or worse, in love with Amina—but instead the woman went an entirely different path and didn't assume a single thing. Of course she suspected, what with her daughter and Amina being so close, but she knew better to pry into such affairs, as much as she didn't want her daughter doing the same. Nomi might have stayed at that table longer and talked with her mother some more, but Papa Nakatori came in, yawning and mumbling, and Nomi wanted nothing to do with him, so she left. ......... Is love so important? Yes. Love is everything. Then why are people alone and lonely? I don't know. I guess they haven't found the right person yet. Perhaps they never will... No. That's not true. Everyone will find the one destined for them. Everyone needs someone to anchor them to this insane place. What if you find your anchor, only to realize it belongs to another boat? Then you drift away... To the land of memories. Land of memories? The place where only happiness exists. A marvelous land that holds wonders beyond any man has ever imagined. It is a place to forget, a place where no sadness will creep into your soul. It must be a wonderful place... Do you wish to go there? No. I don't belong there. So where do you belong? By her side. She doesn't even want you there. I know. It must be painful, living like this, watching her with someone else. Whoever said I was living? ...I'm merely alive. "But even that's not much," mumbled Alexis Walker, looking over her words. Truly, these written words were an expression of herself, not just the character she was writing about. But at least the character was a work of fiction, something that had never lived and would never know the level of pain she spoke of. Alexis did know all that pain; she wrote from harsh experience. She had found a love and lost it, and so went crawling into her story, fingers numbly ticking away at the keyboard, to express her new sorrow. In the end, the character would be so overcome by grief that she would kill herself, and nobody would be around to comfort her, to pick up her broken body, or even to mourn her. She would just lie there for the buzzards to pick clean, her soul swirling into the bleak vortex of everlasting sorrow, the woman's own personal Hell—for what was heaven without her? Alexis finished the chapter, sat back, and read it carefully. She didn't even know if she was going to finish it. What was the point, really? Nobody ever read her stuff, and if they did, they sure wouldn't like it. Much like herself... "Yeah," she murmured, grumbling with a weariness beyond her years. "What fool would want me? Let's face it. Nobody cares for me. Nobody gives a shit if I live or die. I've got nobody on my side anyway; why bother living at all?" She had asked herself that question several times, and each time came very close to suicide, but every time she had been spared, though not by the actions of others. She had to save herself; nobody was ever around to convince her not to die. If only that weren't so! If there was even one soul alive that could talk to her, tell her she was worth something, keep her there by their love, then she knew she would no longer be miserable. She would've at last found her anchor, and would drift no more. "But small chance of that happening." Alexis masturbated until she fell asleep, but what point was there in that? It was just a brief, brief pleasure amidst a world full of pain, populated by people too stupid, too selfish, too inconsiderate and too ugly to be anything else. What kind of a God could make such things anyway? Then again, if evolution were true, some people merely looked human on the outside, but were little more than protozoa on the inside. And if there was a God, then He had truly lost His mind, if ever He had one to begin with. If something went wrong, look to the creator, and oh how wrong the world was! There seemed no point in living in a world run by a mad, sadistic, lying, hypocritical God, nor in a place where every human being cared only for himself, or herself, and never for one another. There was no such thing as a kind soul or a caring person, or somebody good enough to step in and stop the madness. Alexis knew; she had looked, hard. She went all over the place trying to find that one special someone, and had failed. There was nobody like that in Stanton, and what few friends she had were becoming more and more distant, and less receptive of her. Her roommates were all right, but they were hardly around, and her family... It was best not to think about it. The thing that bothered X the most was the churches she had been to. One church all but lynched her when they found out she was a homosexual; another seemed cool until they required a membership of her. Oh, yes, she just had to join the little nonsense cult in order to benefit from everything. She hit the road that very minute and didn't look back, no matter how many people insisted that she had been misinformed. Two more churches didn't seem to care for her at all—the people either ignored her, strayed from her completely, or gave her disapproving looks—and the one church she thought she'd be welcomed in, a Unitarian, was just too strange for her to bear. And if God could not help her, then nobody could. "So what's the point in living," she said, "if nobody cares and you won't be missed anyway? I dunno. I always managed to convince myself I had a purpose, but it was really just that damn story I was making. If I ever finished the bitch, I'd be done with it all, not much else to do except end it. Yeah, like Shelly." (Shelly was the girl in her story that was going to kill herself out of grief) The similarity was striking. X wondered what it would be like to die—endless suffering or endless bliss, but she could handle either one. After all, what was Hell? Life without God? She had that now. Absolute agony? As if she didn't feel that every day. Darkness, loneliness, sorrow? Check, check, check. Well. Hell sounded a lot like life on Earth. And if by some cosmic mistake (which now she could count on since, hey, God was just a big screw-up anyway) she landed in Heaven, all the better, right? She could just walk up and punch that egomaniacal deity in His holy face, maybe break a few ribs in the process. What could He do that He hadn't already done anyway? Killing her would be a blessing; it would be farewell to this cruel life! "Goodbye cruel world," she mused to herself, chuckling a little. Of all the suicide-related clichés! There was no way she was going to end her life like that. If she was going to die, she'd probably leave no note so that whoever found her body, if anyone, would be mystified for days, maybe their whole life. Why, they would ask, is this thing here in my way? And then kick it aside—yeah, yeah, that sounded about right. Alexis went to the kitchen, opened the drawer, and drew out a knife. Why wait, she reasoned, as she embraced the warm flower. ............ Alexis Walker knew she wasn't dead because she smelled that familiar hospital stink, and could feel IV needles in her arms, and could hear the steady pulse of the machine that measured her heart rate, and could feel slight dizziness and pain in her abdomen—but why was she alive? Had she failed somehow? Oh yes, that made a lot of sense; she couldn't even die right. But if she was here in this hospital, then...did somebody care for her? Or was this some sick afterlife? "Are we awake?" came a doctor's voice. Alexis' vision was blurry, so she couldn't quite see the doctor. She closed her eyes and played it by ear. "Fuck," she mumbled, nearly drooling it out. "I see we are," he mumbled. "Well, you're past the critical phase, although you've lost a lot of blood. Yet somehow you pulled through, probably because you didn't retract the knife from your body." "...Whuh?" she mumbled. "You don't know? It acted as a kind of plug for your blood. Oh, it penetrated, all right, but you didn't bleed profusely. We should also be thankful you didn't hit any organs; otherwise you'd still be in surgery. Can you move your arm?" X could barely move her eyes, and that didn't do her a bit of good anyway. She found out she could flop her arm around a little, but she couldn't grasp anything: he wanted her to sign some papers. She smiled just a little at the thought of it; she would most likely put an "X" on the paper. The smile turned into a laugh, and she managed to scrawl the letter onto the paper. "Well," came another voice, "you seem to be in good spirits. That's either very nice or very disturbing. What happened, the knife just suddenly jumped out of the drawer and hit you?" Alexis recognized that voice, and before a faintness took over her, she looked up, cleared her vision, and smiled. "Your visitor," explained the doctor. "I'll leave you two alone." Alexis swallowed, mumbling for water, and was given a glass. Wow! That did wonders! No wonder she couldn't speak, her mouth was dry. "Carly," she whispered hoarsely, "to what do I owe this visit?" "I'd say about a thousand dollars," said the woman, Carlisle "Wrench" Renchina. Alexis suddenly felt ill, and not from the surgery she must've gotten. "A thousand bucks? Bullshit!" "I got a bargain because I put my medical insurance in up with yours, plus I donated some of my blood. We're the same type, you know." To prove it, she weakly flexed her arm, showing a proud bandage over her bicep. "And let me tell you, X," she continued, "it hurt like Hell. I won't be able to go into work tomorrow because of it. It's a miracle I'm even sitting up, let alone talking to you." She did look a little dizzy, but not so much that she couldn't smile and show off her bravado. Alexis felt her heart suddenly lighten as the situation became clear to her. Once she passed out, she must've been lying there on the kitchen floor for who-knows how long, until one of her roommates (clearly Carly) came in, saw the mess, called an ambulance, and had X rushed off to the hospital. That she had stayed behind to give blood and visit her roommate was even more touching, so X gave her plenty of room to be mad. "What in the hell were you thinking, X?" she asked, ruffling the younger woman's hair. "Suicide? That's not you. Come on, you freak me out just by saying it; I never thought you'd go through with it. Damn it, woman, don't you ever do something like that again or I'll really kill you." "God, I'm sorry, I just—" "You just weren't thinking!" she spat, not bothering to hide her tears. "You just didn't think at all, you stupid fat moronic bitch! How could you? You're so...selfish and ignorant. Damn. Don't you ever do that again, I swear. You owe me for this one, Walker." "I'm...sorry," she grumbled weakly, and she meant it. "You didn't...deserve any of this. I'm sorry I...dumped all this shit on you." "You better be damn well sorry about it, fool!" Carly was now openly weeping, taking Alexis' hand to her face and caressing it, making it wetter by the moment. "Don't you...ever...do anything like that again. Don't you ever, okay?" "Okay, I'm sorry. I'll make it up to you." "How?! You don't have a job, you barely do anything around the house, and your grades are..." Carly choked up, collapsed, and wept more, not bothering to hide any emotions. For anyone who didn't know her, she was a tough girl with a tough job, reliable and strong, and as good as any man at anything. But Carly was feminine and soft when people weren't looking—strangers, anyway—and had as much wide a range of emotions as anyone else did. She reached over and took Carly's hair into her fingers, so depressed and yet so elated at the same time. So, despite everything she believed, there really was somebody that cared for her. "Let me work for you," said X, her voice stronger now. "Let me be hired on as one of your mechanics. I'll let you have ninety percent of all of my paychecks until we're square again." "Damn right you'll give me your paychecks!" managed Carly through sobs. She cleared up a little, wiped her face, and looked at Alexis seriously. "You really want to work in my garage?" "I figure it's the best way to pay you back." "Well, yeah, and you do know more about bikes than anyone I know. Well, I'll think about it, but for the moment, you rest up. I gotta go and call in to tell my pals I'm not gonna be in today." She leaned in and kissed Alexis on the cheek, then stood and wobbled her way to the door. Before she left, she turned around and added, "Oh, and X? If you ever...need to talk to somebody, or you're feeling really depressed...come to me, okay? Don't kill yourself. You know my office is always open." "Yeah, but you're always so busy." "I'm never that busy," she managed, tearing up again. "Not that much, you idiot! So just...promise me you'll come and talk to me if you need to, okay?" Alexis promised she would, and watched Carly leave the room. A great burden seemed lifted off her chest—maybe the near-death experience cleared her head, or she had really died and was now reborn in a much better world—and for the first time in ages she smiled without needing a reason for it. When Carly came back, Alexis learned that her theory was right, but she had only been unconscious for about fifteen minutes, maybe less. The operation, however, took several hours. Carly never left the hospital in that time. She was released three days later, after signing more papers than she cared to count. And in spite of everything she had already done, Carly attended to Alexis very lovingly for the next few days, at least until she hired her on as one of her grease monkeys. After that, well...Alexis figured she deserved the roasting. But at least now she knew that Carly did it out of love. Epilogue Alexis got off lucky. One of her roommates was a true friend, a selfless individual with a big heart and a loving demeanor. She had been saved from death, but many others are not so lucky. Many who feel as X felt—that they are unloved, uncared-for, and unimportant, do not have such happy endings. Many good people die out of grief and despair, and some are even doomed to die and die again. As one who has felt the touch of despondency several times before, I urge all of you to not let this go if you see the signs. Show people you love them, show them you care. Sit next to the person who's all by themselves. Talk to people who don't have anybody to talk to. Be a listener when people need to talk, and a friend when they are lonely. So many people need love in the world, and yet so few ever receive it. Just something to think about.
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