London Harmony: Squid Hugs (8 page)

She exhaled fully then took a breath and continued, “That's how Gary reacted, unfortunately.  He asked, 'You're a bloke?' and then accused me of trying to trick him even though everyone had told him.  It felt like a knife to the heart when he said, 'You look almost too good to trick boys into the sack?'  Then he never spoke to me again except for the bullying he and his group of mates subjected me to until graduation.”

I couldn't imagine the torment it would cause a person.  Enough to have you questioning your own identity.  Jen was stronger than anyone I knew.  She finished with, “I have to start out with the trans-woman label whenever anyone asks me out now or shows even the slightest bit of interest.  Even though I am not a trans-woman, I am simply a woman.  I hate labels.  But it diffuses any future uncomfortable situations that way.”

She snuggled into me and I was intensely aware of her heat that was threatening to envelop me.  Then she pulled back a bit to lock eyes with me and whispered, “So you know my secrets.  What about the mysterious Zilrita Marx?  You never ever speak of your childhood. It is almost as if your life started in art school across the pond.  I've known you for years and all I know about your childhood is that apparently, you do have parents, so you didn't magically appear in the world a full grown woman.”

I snorted at that.  Then she laid her head back down, I took a moment as I kissed the top of her head then laid my cheek on it, to think about if I really wanted to share my secrets and my shame with the woman who held my heart, even though she was oblivious to it.

She pleaded with a cute voice, “Please?”

With that, every defense I had crumbled on the spot.  I inhaled, taking in her scent and sighed in defeat as I nodded.  I swear I could hear her devious smile, knowing she had won.

I said carefully as I flexed my thumb, “I don't ever talk about it, to anyone, not even June.”

She seemed to push tighter against me, making me feel safe.

My heart was beating and I was starting to sweat.  It was like the beginning of the panic attacks I had for a few months right after...

I took three deep breaths to stave it off then thought about what I was doing.  I was really going to voice my shame to another person, a person who's opinion meant everything to me.  What if... what if she pulled away after this?  I swallowed and steeled myself, knowing I couldn't deny her if I wanted to, then began. “I was pretty much your normal girl growing up.”

I thought back as I started playing with her silky hair.  “Mom divorced the sperm donor when I was four, not much nice I can say about him, he's never made an attempt to contact me.  I barely remember the guy.  Then she met Isaac and remarried a year later.  Isaac is everything a dad should be.  Strong, responsible, dedicated, a strong role model for anyone.  I love him lots.”

I smiled at the memories. “I took a little flack at school from bigots who thought interracial marriage was wrong.  Isaac taught me that haters are going to hate, just let it roll off your back and enjoy the good things in life instead.”

I smirked and admitted, “I was a little hyperactive and impatient when I was younger.”

She snorted and I tapped the top of her head in reprimand as I grinned.

Then I caved and said, “Fine, still am a bit, but not like back then.  I was always getting into trouble because I would finish assignments early and read ahead or bounce off the walls.”

I scrunched up my face a little as I shared, “I was never a really good student.  I mean I was above average, mostly Bs with an occasional A or C mixed in the lot.  But the teachers saw me as disruptive, especially when I asked a gadzillion questions because I was bored.  Their solution was to advance me one grade in grade school.  The more difficult lessons kept me busy.”

I thought about the next and fought back tears, I made an effort to keep my voice level as I said, “When I was eleven, mom and dad had unexpected news for me.  They hadn't been trying or anything, and it was as big a surprise to them as to me, but they had a little oops and I was going to be a big sister.”

I chuckled at the memory.  “I think they thought I was going to be upset or something.  I didn't see how anyone would be upset about something as awesome as that.  I was going to be a big sister!  I was beyond happy.  All through the pregnancy, I asked a million questions about little Oops.”

I bit my lip hard to force myself to continue in a shaky voice, “When Ratiana was born, I was the proudest big sister in the world.  She was perfect.  Lots of curly black hair and she had a beautiful skin tone, right between mother's pale white and Isaac's dark chocolate.”

I smiled, both in spite of myself and the fist clenched in the pit of my stomach. “We were the neighborhood terrors by the time she was three.  I spent as much time with her as I could whenever I wasn't in school.  She was like a living ray of sunshine and could warm anyone's heart with her infectious smile.”

My heart lightened a little as I shared, “And she was a hugger.  First thing when I got home each night, her arms would be spread wide asking for one, the same before I went off to school each morning.”

I smirked a little at the next part. “When we taught her the alphabet in kindergarten, she started calling them hugz with a Z since Zilrita had a Z.  Though it wasn't until she was five that she could say the Z right, I was more like Swhil to her until then.”

I stopped running my fingers through Jen's hair and thought for a second until she nuzzled her head into my hand as I started relaying the story again, “She loved dresses, and puddles, and animals.  We couldn't have a dog or cat of our own because Mom had severe allergies, so we visited the Denver Zoo frequently, and I would sneak her off to the local pet rescue as often as we could to pet the dogs and cats there.”

I grinned down at Jen who looked up in my eyes, she looked haunted.  I looked away, to the elevator's cage and said, “She simply loved a Nightmare Before Christmas, she watched it almost every night.  She had me dress up as Sally, her favorite character, for Halloween and bring her around trick-or-treating.”

Jen held her breath at that.

I stopped for a long interval, trying to regulate my breathing, pushing off one of those long gone panic attacks.  Jen hugged my arm almost desperately, I knew she knew, the way I spoke in past tense.  I centered myself again, and said in a wavering voice, “Ratiana was just five, in first grade.  I had been bumped up a grade again and was floundering my way through my senior year, the lessons were so much harder.”

I forced myself to breathe, why was this so hard to tell?

My voice cracked as I continued, “It was right after my sixteenth birthday at the end of the school year.  I was filling out my application to the New York Academy of Art, stressing over the fact that I had only mediocre grades and they were an elite school.”

I closed my eyes and felt a tear roll down my cheek as I said hoarsely, “Ratiana came into my room to ask for a hug before she went to her last day of little league soccer.  I had never missed a game, but I had to finish the application and get it mailed off or I'd miss the deadline.”

I started shaking and Jen tightened her grip on me again.

I composed myself and murmured, “I had told her, 'Sorry Rat, no time for a hug, I have to finish this college application, but I'll make it up to you this weekend.  I'll take you out to the park you like, the one with the really big slide.'  She had just nodded cutely and said, 'Deal!  And the Zoo?  Every plan is better with animals.'  Then she started to zoom off with all the energy of a kid but paused long enough to tell me, 'You'll get in and you'll do great.  There's nothin' my big sis can't do.'”

I shuddered with a silent sob and forced myself to continue, “It was a freak accident.  Mom called me from the hospital.  Ratiana had been hit in the temple by a ball and fell to the ground like a broken doll.  The doctors said she had massive swelling of the brain.  By the time I arrived at the hospital, she was gone.  I never got to say goodbye and I never gave her a last hug.”

I was openly crying now and somehow our positions had shifted and Jen was holding me now and shushing me as she stroked my hair as I rocked.  I looked up at her with bleary eyes, my voice was hoarse and pained as I said, “I never gave her that last hug, the damn application was too fucking important... that's why I have this obsession with hugs.  What if... what if I didn't, and... and I never see the person again?”

I shook it all away and said in a calmer voice than I thought I was capable of, “I was a mess after that and wracked with guilt.  I know it is irrational, but I still felt guilty.  I had these panic attacks at school after the funeral.  I hugged mom, dad, and everyone I knew, as often as I could.  School ended and I was just a ghost of myself, I felt like my love of life had died with Ratiana.  I felt gloomy and depressed all the time.  So I changed my look to reflect that.  I think she was still influencing my decisions, I went goth, like Sally.”

I exhaled and calmed myself. “Summer had begun, a letter arrived from the art academy and I just hid it away, unopened. Mom and Isaac sat me down to have a serious talk with me.  They were concerned about my radical personality change and were talking about things like therapists and the who gambit.  It was Isaac that knocked me out of my funk.”

I grinned a little in the memory as I said wistfully, “He grabbed my hand and said to me, 'Life is really the shits sometimes, baby doll.  It's how we take the hits and keep on slogging forward that defines us.  Ratiana loved you with all her heart, you were her role model.  Do you really think she would want you to suffer the way you are now?  Or live your life to the fullest?  To embrace the world and make it smile the way you used to?  What would she tell you if she were here right now?'”

Jen pulled back to look at me, her eyes were mesmerizing and I gave her a small smile and said, “I told him, 'She'd want me to be happy.  She said I'd do great.  And there wasn't anything I couldn't do.'  He had just cocked an expectant eyebrow at me and I sobbed into his shoulder.  I tried hard the rest of the summer to be the person my little sis looked up to.  I don't want to disappoint her.  I could feel my happiness and hyperactivity slowly returning, and I felt so guilty about it.  I never changed my look, I kind of liked the way people reacted to it by then.”

I gave her an embarrassed look. “One weekend, mom asked, 'Doesn't the new school year start at the art academy Monday?  Why didn't they ever respond to your application?  The commercial artwork you sent in was unbelievable Zil.' That's when I remembered the letter.  I ran and got it and opened it with my parents.  I had been accepted, and I got a partial scholarship instead of a full one because of my mediocre grades.  They said it was the commercial art instructor that swayed their vote because she was really impressed and intrigued by my mock advertisements.”

I shrugged and said with a sad chuckle, “We thought it was too late to accept.  Isaac called the school and explained we had a death in the family, and they were very understanding and said so long as I made up any missed assignments I could arrive at any time.  I told them it would be two weeks because I had to give my employer a two-week notice at the printing shop I was interning at, preparing art for the press and doing the books.  The Academy commended me for my professionalism and work ethic.”

I smiled genuinely at the next.  “That's when I met June, Sammi, Abbey and the rest of June's Eight.  I felt with them, the same way I felt with Ratiana, like they were my sisters.  It wasn't the same intensity, but damn close.  I'll always have a hole in my heart where my baby sister lives, but these incredible girls helped bring my happiness back.  And damn are they all great huggers.  Grawl.”

Then I admitted my other shame, “I've never been home since.  It's been thirteen years.  I still speak with mom and dad occasionally, and send cards and gifts, I just can't bring myself to go home.  I can't feel that pain again.  I miss Ratiana so much.”  Then I shrugged and murmured, “Maybe it's time, I'm just a coward.”

Jen looked at me, into me, through me, I couldn't read anything in her expression, but her eyes threatened to drown me in their intensity.

She whispered, “Oh Zilrita.”  Then she just held me for a while and I basked in her warmth. I felt... safe.

After a few minutes of silence, she pulled back a bit again to look at me with a reassuring smile.  I felt so close to her at that moment.  Then she looked at my lips.  I bit my lip and looked at hers.  We started leaning in, and I could feel her breath, hot on my face... then we almost jumped out of our skins when someone pounded loudly on the elevator doors below.

June was calling out loudly, “Zil?  Stems?”

We started laughing uncontrollably as we looked at each other.  I know I had regret on my face as I turned to look at the floor and yelled, “We're stuck between floors June.  The power is off.”

There was a pause and then her voice took on an incredulous tone, “Why didn't you just use the manual crank then?”

The whosie whatsit?

I called out, “The what?”

We looked around the ancient elevator and at a circular device below the emergency phone that looked like a large drum with a handle on it and a button above it.

I heard someone chuckle, it was deeper than June's and it was honey dipped, must have been Eliza.  June explained, “This is an old manual crank, traction, Otis Elevator from the nineteen twenties.  They retrofitted it with and electric motor but the hand controls still work according to the caretaker who told me when we were looking to buy the building.”