From: billbill@wetware.com (Bill Bill)
Subject: didn't know
Followup-To: misc.test
Organization: Castle Wetware
Date: Thu, 8 Oct 1992 07:00:10 GMT

We were sitting in some hamburger joint, 
sipping the grease through jumbo straws,
when I felt my stomach twitch. Oh shit,
I thought, not here. I glanced at her face,
but she was intent on building french fries.
My head spun wildly, looking for a closet. 
I spotted the restrooms and lunged from my 
seat, knocking over the tower of foil ashtrays 
we'd made. Her voice was a blur as I passed.

I could feel him in my throat, but I had esophageal control and I
clenched inside, holding him down. The little furry hands tried
to tickle inside the top of my stomach, but you know sometimes
you're ticklish and sometimes you're not? I wasn't. I got the
restroom door open and swung inside, glimpsing the wooden chairs 
strewn in my wake. Slammed the door and locked it.

"Ha!" I opened my mouth. "Come on out, you
little bastard," I said, losing the last
couple of words as he poked his head up
through my throat and wiggled out over my
tongue.

"Hieeeeeeiiiaaaaa hnnnnnn hnnnnnnnnnnn," he said, or yelled, as he
launched from my lips and bounced like a ball off the wall to hit
me in the stomach, grab my belt and heave himself up onto my shoulder
and off my back. I flexed my jaw to test the joint, then turned to 
see what he was up to. Damn! The bathroom had a window!

His little hands made the window-crank whirr,
and before I could take one step he had a slim
opening to get through. He breathed "Oooooooooh,"
blinked, and flashed outside. Oh damn. Oh God. 
He was out in the world, and me getting weaker 
by the second. I sat down on the toilet, my eyes 
flashing and sweating. Oh God. I thought we were 
locked in... why hadn't I checked for a window?
Oh damn.

Through the open window, I could hear the seeds of the end. Car tires
screeched and ended with the punch of metal into metal. Men and women
screamed, and I heard a siren coming nearer. He was off to a great
start, just like I had always warned myself he would be. I heard a giant
crunch, like a meteor falling through asphalt, and the sound of bricks
toppling onto the sidewalks where I knew baby carriages, students,
and tiny schnauzers all froze in shock, too late.

Staring at my palms, I thought of the ways I could
have made him understand, the pictures I could have
shown him of books, birds, playgrounds, chairs...
it would have been so easy for him to understand 
the everpresent dangers. He would have listened.
I had never talked. Now he was on them.

A high-pitched humming noise neared the window, and I looked up from
my despair to see his feet wiggling in through the open window. He pushed
off the sill and bounced around the room for a few seconds. Then he hung 
upside down from the light fixture, trying to hide a little smile that 
seemed a frown. He looked at me until I stood up, slack-jawed, then he
jumped to my head and stroked my hair, cooing. His feet climbed down my
nose and into my mouth, where he sat for a moment looking right into my eyes.

I didn't understand how he could grin with our secret loose like that,
the world full of accidents; I wanted to shout, to make him hear what 
I would endure. But he just laughed and pushed my jaw wider, sliding 
the easy slope back inside. I could feel him settling down, a little 
curling-up. Then he was still, invisible, undetectable, well-behaved. 
I stood thinking of the people I had known before. How far they might 
go. How far they were now. 

Time to go back out, to face the music, the 
dirge, the riot act. I blinked tired eyes 
and unlocked the door.

Standing at the window, she turned and watched
my face for signs. Behind her, I saw the crowds
picking themselves up, everyone checking that
everyone else was all right. The siren shut down,
and I saw an ambulance pull away from the curb,
in no particular hurry.

She glanced over my shoulder, then back 
to my eyes. "So he's coming out in the 
daytime now," she said, and sat down at
our table. She plucked a french fry and 
bit the end off. "He looks a little stronger 
in the light." My head spun, but I accepted 
this, as one learns to do with such a good
companion.

                              billbill@wetware.com