The Pike: Ships In The Night (9 page)

The man offered his hand and she placed the back of it to her forehead and then she scurried off, pulling me with her.  She explained in hushed tones that he had no money to pay, like I should understand.  And I did, when I coupled it with the other time she changed my numbers on the ticket for a young family to less than half the cost of the items on the menu.

I had to look at her, and her mother in admiration as two plus two came up to them taking care of the community and only charging what the people could afford.  How did they make ends meet?  Then I realized her father must have a high paying job.

As they started prepping to close, I had a chance to catch my breath as I washed dishes while Liya pulled out an old fashioned ledger and started just glancing at the receipts.  I could almost see the math circling around in her eyes as she calculated everything in her head.

When Lili went out to close up, I asked the intriguing young woman, “What does your dad do?”

She brightened and said with all the pride in the world, “He is a sanitation engineer.”

A trash man?  They didn't get paid well either for working their asses off.  How were they keeping the restaurant afloat then if they weren't charging full price for quite a few of the meals?  I knew that restaurants worked on extremely slim margins unless they were upper-class places that overcharged for the fare.

Liya sighed as she took the last tickets from her mother then said almost sadly as she wrote something in the ledger, “Seventy-eight dollars and sixty-three cents.”  That's all?  Her mother didn't even clear minimum wage?  What about when they had a worker?

Lili, who looked so much like a more mature Liya, said in a cheerful tone like it didn't matter, “There's almost thirty dollars in the tip jar.”

I turned when I heard the back door opening.  A huge man with muscles to spare stepped in, dressed in a red flannel shirt and jeans that made him look like a lumberjack.  He was maybe forty or so but held himself like a much younger man.  His shoulder length dusty blonde hair was frosted with silver.  The stubble on his face followed suit, it was maybe three days growth that gave the man a roguish appearance.  I may be gay, but I could certainly appreciate a pretty looking man like that.

He started reaching for the bags of garbage we had stacked by the back door, and he swung his startling blue eyes our way as he asked, “And how are my girls tonight?”  He paused. “Oh, we have a guest.”  He straightened and stepped over to us as Liya waved cutely and said like a young girl, “Hi, daddy.  This is my, umm, friend, Allison.”

He stopped in front of us, and he was an impressive figure, built like some of the larger fighter fighters in the department.  Now I'm a tall woman at just over six feet, and I had to look up at the man, who stood maybe five or six inches taller than me.

He offered his giant paw of hand, and I shook, feeling his restrained strength, I wasn't having any of that shit, I may be broken, but I'm sure as hell not fragile.  I increased the pressure of my grip, and he gave me a proper shake, his face breaking into an appreciative grin.  He said in a rich tenor, “Allison.”

I said as we released hands, “Mr. Hannigan.”

He waved me off as he kissed his wife and daughter's foreheads then started back toward the trash bags, “Vince, please.  Do you work at the University with my Imme?”

Immie?  I glanced at the women and said with no emotion as I searched for the words, “I'm... between jobs right now.”

Then Lili said, confirming my suspicion that she had recognized my name, “She was with the Seattle Fire Department.”  Then she added while giveing him a pointed look, “Allison Fraiser.”

He stopped in mid lift, then just as quickly as he paused, he finished standing and stepped out with maybe eighty or ninety pounds of trash in one hand like it weighed nothing, without looking back at us.

He was giving me my dignity.

He stepped back in a minute later and washed his hands as I turned to Liya, “Thanks for the meal and the company, I really enjoyed it.”

She just nodded as she seemed to be trying to wipe something invisible off of her hands.  She asked, “See you on the ferry tomorrow?”

I smiled at her. “I wouldn't miss it.”  Then I added, “Unless I miss it.”

It took her a moment but then she looked up at me, grinned cutely and said, “Humorous.”

I smiled brightly at her then turned to her mother. “Thanks for the meal, Lilibeth, it was pretty mouth watering.”

She waved it off and then pulled some cash out of her pocket and held it out toward me.  “It was my pleasure.  Now here, take this for all the help tonight, I've never had such a hard working helper.”

I held my hands up palm out. “No, I couldn't.  I was just repaying your hospitality. And besides, didn't...” What had her father called her? “Imme here just claim me as a friend.  Friends help each other out.”

Liya looked about to blush herself into the nether-realm, and it looked adorable.  Lili exhaled in exasperation, and a big hand reached over to curl around hers and the cash. “Put it away Lil.  You heard her.  Let's not insult our girl's friend.”

The woman shot him a look that was a combination of venom and playfulness.  Who knew the two looks could mix like that?  With a huff, she stuffed the money back in her pocket.  I smiled and said to everyone, “Now if you'll excuse me, I have a bus to catch.”

Vince shook his head. “Nonsense, we'll give you a ride home.”  Then he shot me a triumphant and smug look as he parroted my words, “Friends help each other out.”

I gave a toothy grin of defiance and countered, “Thanks, but I live in Gig Harbor.”

He looked at his daughter as he said to me, “It's the least we can do for our little girl's friend.  She has so few.  It will give you two a chance to talk, I'm sure you didn't get much chance if you were helping Lili.”

Liya dragged out in a small voice that was almost a whine, “Daddy.”

I exhaled in defeat and Lili gave me a 'so there' look, I had been swatted down just like she had been too.  I nodded. “Thank you, Vince, it would be appreciated.”

He clapped his hands together with enthusiasm and asked, “Great, shall we go?”  He looked at his daughter in question.  She was staring at her cell, holding a finger up.  We all looked at her, I tilted my head in question then she dropped her finger and looked at the man and said as she nodded, “Eight sixteen.”

I didn't have to ask about it once she spoke, I knew they were accommodating her precise schedule.  I wondered how much it would bother her if her schedule were ever interrupted.  That would be something I'd ask her on the ferry ride tomorrow.  If, that is, she decided to join me on the observation deck again.

We left the restaurant through the back door, the man checked to be sure it locked then Liya lead me to an old, beat up green minivan.  Then we were on the road, her father cranking the radio and prompting the women to sing off key with him.

I had to smile at their tight family unit, and settled in for the ride, studying Imme as she started to grin and sing terribly with her father.  She seemed almost innocent to me, maybe that's why I found her so fascinating, she wasn't tainted by the world around us.

She could likely explain how everything in this world was put together and worked, yet she didn't know how to interact with it.  She tried for her parents as she floundered in a world that wasn't made for her... but she could smile.

When I went to bed that night, I didn't have to force the numbers away.  I just thought about how Allison had just stepped in to help mom when she saw she needed help at the restaurant.  And how she went out of her way to bring my papers, which she had designated as important to me, to the University.

Mom had indicated that she somehow knew that Allison had once worked for the fire department.  That fit with this new data set I was compiling.  She seemed to be a person who put other people's needs ahead of her own.  A protector.  A guardian.  But when I asked mom about it after we had dropped Allison off at her home, she and dad both said, “That's up to her to tell you.”

I decided to appropriate a portion of my lunch break the next day to do an online search to attempt to locate the elusive data they were reticent to share.

I thought of the imposing tall woman with those steel grey eyes that seemed too intense, too... something.  Argh... more variables that had no logical input.  I'd have to be satisfied with what I knew so far.  She was a protector, and she made me smile, even though we hadn't had a moment to talk much yet.

I fell asleep feeling warm, with that fluttering sensation inside that I was beginning to associate with my new friend.

***

I woke up the next morning and sat up, staring at the numbers on my alarm clock.  I waited a few seconds, then it started beeping.  I hovered my hand over the button to wait for the fourth beep, then turned it off and grinned as I slid out of bed.

I had to pace myself as I got ready for the day.  I was ahead of my schedule at every juncture, I didn't know what had gotten into me.  Structure and routine are everything, without them, there is only chaos.  I wondered if Allison was already on the bus heading toward Bremerton to catch the ferry.

I stood by the front door of our little two bedroom house with my shoulder bag clutched to my chest.  Mom was smiling and shaking her head as my parents came out, mom shrugging into a light jacket before they clasped hands.

I remembered how chilly the breeze had been on the observation deck of the ferry the prior night and thought perhaps I should start wearing one as well as the days got colder.

Dad looked at the old watch that grandpa Hannigan gave him when he graduated from high school.  He gave me a crooked smile and asked, “What has gotten into you today Imme?  You're a few minutes ahead of your schedule.”

I shrugged and looked down at my arms clutching my bag to me as they joined me at the door.  Dad chuckled and kissed the top of my head as he reached over me to open the door.  Mom and I walked under his arm, and I had to smile.  Allison did that too.  It must be a constant, like the speed of light, that taller people do that for those of us on the lower end of the height spectrum.  I know it is illogical, but it made me smile.

He asked, “You still have time for your old man on Sunday for our project don't you?”

I nodded in earnest and replied, “Of course.  I have allocated two hours to the project and have adjusted my schedule to accommodate the...”

Mom chuckled and slapped dad's arm as she grinned up at him and said to me, “He's teasing you my Liya.”

I looked up at him, he had a big grin on his face, and he winked at me.  I narrowed my eyes at him playfully, and they both chuckled.  I was pleased to be able to elicit that response from them.

Dad played the radio loudly as usual, and we sang to the pop music he preferred.  I have never been able to master the proper tone nor inflection to sing properly, but dad assures me that isn't the point of singing along.  The point is to have fun, putting yourself out there, and just let yourself go.  I'm not quite sure where 'there' is, but he insists it is 'there' in his cyclic redundancy of non sequitur logic that confounds me.

It's another one of the activities he insists on to get me out of my head and participate in the physical world.  And I admit it does give me a degree of satisfaction I can't quantify, I think it is because of the warm look on mom's face as she watches us put ourselves 'out there.'

We pulled up to Kusina Ni Tala, and he gave mom a quick peck on the lips then said to us, “Have a great day ladies, see you tonight.”  He reached back and pulled me forward to kiss the top of my head.  I blushed and said in a small voice, “Bye daddy, you too.”

As I closed the slider door on the minivan, he said, “Knock 'em dead, Imme.”

He drove off leaving me confused as I waved at him.  I glanced at mom.  She had that amused look on her face again, and she said as she gave me a little hug, “It means to do your best, my Liya.”

I blinked as she released me.  “Oh.  Then why didn't he just say that?”

She gave me a look that always seemed sneaky to me, dad says it is her sly look.  “Because he is a man.”

I nodded in understanding.  The men I work with in the lab were confusing like that too.  It must be some sort of inherent short circuit in the brains of the males of the species that we must accommodate.

She said as she unlocked the door so she could get to work doing all the morning prep so she would be ready to open for lunch, “Sana masaya at maganda ang araw mo, Liya, mahal na mahal kita.”

I gave her a tiny wave. “English, mom.  Bye, I love you too.”  That had put me in an even better mood, and I dashed off across the way to the dock, to wait for the first ferry of the day.

I felt so optimistic.  I just knew that we had to be close to our breakthrough in the lab.  I'd put in an extra effort today.  I sat on a bench and pulled out some more light reading, on temporal mechanics, there was an interesting segment on paradoxes where temporal fissures can slow time to a gradual halt.

I kept looking up from my reading to the people arriving and the cars queueing up in anticipation of boarding the Hyak.  I found myself distracted, watching the other benches and couldn't get into the book in the section about Polchinski's Paradox.

That usually holds my attention since there is nothing in Einstein's General Relativity to rule out the possibility of tunnels through space time. It's also based upon the laws of motion, so it presents a better method for scientists to think about the paradox.  But not this morning.

I tried to read the passage for the third time when my stomach fluttered at a familiar voice.  “Scooch over a bit half-pint.”  I looked up so fast my neck twinged.  I smiled as Allison sat, bumping my hip over.  Her face seemed to almost glow as she grinned while I made room for her.  I wondered for a moment why she hadn't sat on the other side of me where there was plenty of room, but I didn't seem to care about the anomaly in her seating selection criteria.

She kept her grey eyes trained on me, studying me as she placed both hands on her cane and leaned on it.  I felt that familiar warmth in my cheeks and belly and I looked down to my book, but couldn't seem to make sense of the letters.  She said, “Good morning Imme.  Some research into my joke yesterday I see.”

I blurted before I could stop myself, “It isn't because of that.  It is Wednesday, that is for temporal mechanics or quarks and pions.  I chose whimsy over matter today.”

She had that look, what was it?  Sly.  That was it.  She said, “I was kidding, Liya.”  Ah.  She seems to be joke-y all the time, and that was amusing.

I smiled at her and looked back at the book before I closed it.  She tilted her head to the side inquisitively and asked, “Do you ever read for pleasure?”

I nodded and held the book up as an example.  Allie shook her head. “No, I mean like fiction, romance, or fantasy?  Something fun, to engage your imagination and propel you into fantastical worlds.”

I narrowed my eyes at my book.  Wasn't this the same?  It engaged my imagination.  I didn't have enough data to come to a proper conclusion it seemed.  I asked carefully, “What would you suggest?”

She cocked her head the other way, and I could see her thinking. “Something out of your comfort zone, so no sci-fi.  Maybe a paranormal romance, like Ella Grimm's, White Fang Chronicles or something similar.  I know it isn't based in fact nor does it follow any of the laws of physics, but the whole point is to suspend belief and imagine a world where it is all possible.”

Oh.  I countered, “But if you subscribe to the infinite parallel universes and infinite realities theory, then there would be at least one world where the premise of the books would be possible.  Even a world where the characters in the book are real.”

She smiled broadly, and I felt happy that I made her smile that way as she said, “Well there you have it then.  Call it research into the theory.”

I nodded and shrugged, looked down at my hands and said, “I could do that, like a research project on the side.”  Then realizing the nod and shrug were contradictory and mutually exclusive actions and almost giggled at the fact that I had done that.

I noted the cars had all loaded onto the ferry, and she stood and offered a hand to help me up.  I didn't need the assistance, but I took her hand anyway and stood.  It was hot and strong.  Stronger than any woman's I had felt.  Then she made an ushering motion. “After you.”

I felt like a kid again as my recent sickness rushed through me again in a warm wave.  I nodded and started for the ferry, Allison by my side.  I looked up and feeling a little timid asked, “Mind if I join you on the upper deck?”

She shook her head and said, “I'd be happy to have you there if you don't mind slumming it.”

She chuckled at my look of confusion as we boarded and started up the stairs.  Slumming it?  But there weren't any slums in Bremerton or along the route we took once we arrived in Seattle.  Then I understood.  A self-deprecating remark.  Mom has said how she found that endearing in dad.  It was like the other obscure jokes Allison keeps telling.  I grinned.

Then as the ship started moving, she stared off into the twilight of the morning as the world slowly awoke, and asked me, “So tell me about the childhood of Ligaya Imelda Hannigan.”

I froze.  She wanted to know about my childhood?  What did I say?  There were years of experiences which built upon each other.  Wait, if I could get some quid pro quo, I would know the data she required.  I grinned at my own cunning and said, “You first.  Tell me about the childhood of Allison Fraiser.”  I paused. “I don't know your middle name.”

She narrowed her eyes at the water below then turned her eyes to me and exhaled and said, “Harper.”  That was unconventional, like her.  I liked it.

I found quickly she was looking for amusing or insightful moments of my childhood.  I was smiling more often than not at the things she shared.  It was so easy to speak to her, even easier than sharing research and theories with a colleague.  I even caught myself giggling a couple times.  She seemed thoroughly amused at some of my anecdotes.  At times she looked sad, but I'm terrible at deciphering emotion so I could be way off base.

I realized that I had never spoke with someone about things like this before, not even with mom and dad.  I found it oddly satisfying.

She would always ask about the feelings associated with each of the things I would share, they seemed more important to her than the facts of each event.  She said that emotions painted our lives, and even if I didn't always understand them, they are part of what makes someone the person they are.  A basic building block of the core of a person.  I wanted to explain that atoms were the basic building blocks of us and everything else, but I realized she meant existentially.

I found her fascinating, and though she may not be versed in the sciences to the level of myself or my colleagues, she seemed to know more about life than I could ever hope to learn, no matter how many books I read.

Her eyes had this intensity that held me captive as we spoke.  And that's how it was the next couple days.  Not only did we talk each morning on the observation deck of the Hyak, but she always happened to be on my return ferry.  She even insisted on helping mother close each night, telling me she wanted to hear more about my life growing up apart from the world because I wasn't quite like other girls.

It seemed that her childhood ended when she was around fifteen.  She supplied no data beyond that, and she never brought up working as a firefighter.  I had yet to bring myself to Google her name online.  It felt wrong to seek out information she hadn't yet shared with me.  I found that odd since I looked up everything constantly, you could never have too much data on any subject.

I brought it up to dad, and all he had to say on the subject was, “Because you're her friend, Imme.  She'll talk to you about the things she is withholding when she chooses to do so.”  He wouldn't tell me what he obviously knew about my friend.

I keep having those odd flashes of heat, and I have determined to make an appointment with my physician on Monday to discuss my concerns about my health.  Sometimes the symptoms are diametrically opposed.  Like this morning, I was shivering in the wind on the way into Seattle, then Allison held open her jacket and wrapped me in it; I'll have to remember to wear mine now; pulling me close to conserve body heat and then I felt waves of heat inside.

How could I be hot and cold at the same time?  My online searches produced two unlikely results Lyme disease and lead poisoning.  Since I checked myself for ticks, and I didn't have any of the other symptoms of lead poisoning, I resigned myself to seeking counsel from a specialist.

As we descended down to the docks, her sliding on the rails to make me giggle and me trudging down the stairs after her, she asked me about the subject on hand.  “What was going through your head on that first day of college.  Being a twelve-year-old around all those young people on the threshold of adulthood?  You must have had been full of emotions.  I know I would have been scared shitless.”