It was supposed to be a daydream. An exploration of within using safe boundaries where I could unleash any dangerous emotions that were pent up in this too kind skull of mine.
It was supposed to be a nothing. An idle jaunt through self indulgent tropes that had no bearing on the outside worlds.
Something kept pulling at me. Something tugged at my sleeves and dogged my steps. It pleaded with my reflection and petitioned my shadow.
I was needed elsewhere.
Okay. Let’s go.
I stepped out of my daydream and allowed the call to bring me where I needed to be. An eye-blink and a sigh later, I was on the city limits of a familiar city. It was late at night, but I was able to recognize it. This was where the exosuit specialist made new boots for me. I thought of the naked man fondly.
I remembered how to get to the Seer’s house from here. Before I get into trouble on my own, I should check in with her first. She had the same idea, but chose a different venue.
“Weaver. You came.” She stepped out of the shadows by the open city gates. She was dressed for travel, but there was something of about her that I couldn’t recognize.
“Have you been calling long, Seer?”
“It felt long to me. But it probably wasn’t.”
She stepped into the light and I realized what was different. The Seer is a transwoman. Something I saw at once when I first met her, but thought it nothing of distinction then. I am now seeing her without any of the secondary markers I had seen before. Either enough time had passed for her to have had corrective surgery and to have recovered from it. Or I was looking at her spirit and how she viewed herself.
My study of her made me pause.
“Am I that hideous?” A hand fluttered to her scarf as if she would hide her face.
“Madame, you are a beautiful and exquisite woman.”
Her eyes sparkled with barely withheld tears. “I was never able to get my body to meet my ideal. And now that my body is failing…” I kept a stoic face but my heart fell. “Do you remember what I said would be the circumstances of our next meeting? This meeting?”
“Yes, Madame. That we would meet again when I escorted you to your next life.”
“Have you your keys?”
“Always, Madame.”
Her hands fluttered around her scarf again. I was confused. I didn’t know the proper etiquette here. I bowed. “Madame, would you allow me to escort you? And to where are we going?” I knew where. I didn’t have to ask. I just had to rely on my instinct. I held my hand out to her. She grasped it greedily, as if I was a float on the oceans of her barely held tears.
“I would.” She took a deep breath and pulled herself close to me. “I am in your care now, [Escort]. I can go nowhere but where you take me.”
“How much time do you have? If I take you there too soon…” I really wasn’t sure what would happen if I took her to the Building before her body died.
“I… I don’t know. I felt death approaching and thought I would spare you the walk across town.”
“So, your body breathes.”
“For now.”
Okay. I know where she can go to wait out time. I tucked her arm around mine. “I know a place that serves the best chili mocha you’re going to find in the human realms. I think you’ll like it.” I led her through the open gate and noted it closed behind us and locked.
Two steps and a sniffled tear later, we walked through the entrance of the Cafe-On-Main. Jill met me at the door and raised an eyebrow at the Seer. I just smiled softly and announced the Madame would be my dinner guest. Jill nodded and led us to my booth.
Jill brought us both chili mochas (a Cafe-On-Main specialty) and a plate of appetizers. Before she closed the privacy curtain, I caught Jill’s hand. “Not today, but I have questions for you. But right now, I need to know if I can take you at face value.”
Jill smiled sadly. “You are my friend, I would not betray you.” I did not release my grip. “Yes, Weaver, you can take me at face value.” I released her hand and she closed the privacy curtain completely.
The Seer and I shared the appetizer platter silently. She found the chili mocha too spicy for her. It was quickly replaced with a plain coffee. I watched her carefully, noting her fading color in her cheeks.
She picked up her fork to take the last morsel. In mid movement the fork fell through suddenly noncorporeal flesh. It was time.
I called for Jill and told her of our departure. Jill nodded and wished the Seer a smooth passage. We left the cafe and crossed the street. A few minutes to midnight, I unlocked the main doors to the Building and held the door open.
The Seer was apprehensive and nervous. She alternated between stoic acceptance and tearful fearing. The Art Deco interior had not changed since I was last inside. There was no one around. To my senses, we were the only people in the entire building. We took the elevator to the tenth floor, as my instinct directed.
I escorted the Seer to the sole suite on the tenth floor. I unlocked the door and held it open. “Madame, your destination.”
“You did not say it was my final one.”
“I know better. This is just the last time we’ll see each other as we are now. We may meet again, we may not.”
The Seer smiled and relaxed. “Farewell, Weaver.”
“Farewell, Lovely Lady.”
She entered the suite. I followed her with my eyes. Beyond the threshold was a bright darkness. Or was it a dark light. It was something and it was nothing and it was beyond my understanding.
I looked into the swirls of infinity for a few moments more, smiled, nodded, then closed and locked the door.
I caught myself silently crying as I descended. Crying and smiling just the same. By the time I was back on the ground floor, I had recovered my composure. This wasn’t the first I have escorted, and I doubt it will be the last.
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped out into the lobby. I saw myself in the reflection of the amber hued mirrors. What I saw comforted me. I unlocked the main doors, stepped out onto the street, and locked the doors behind me.
I thought about going back to the cafe, but I wasn’t in the mood for politicking with the factions, or settling things with Jill.
I turned and went to the Crossroads, to where the distinction between land and water was muddy, to where the gators were thicker than the Spanish Moss, to a bar over the river. I arrived in fine array. A red dress with black highlights, shiny black beads adorning my hair, and a black lace fan for show and for weapon.
The guitar player called me out and demanded I earn my drinks tonight. Would I sing with them again? I would. I took the stage, and crooned out tunes sultry and biting. In the far corner, I saw someone at my favorite table nod and smile. The drinks I had earned were not comforting. They were sharp and salty and warm on the tongue but cool in the throat. Like the last tears of a dying woman.