Sini's Secret

In all the excitement surrounding my broken arm, Sini's return, Rommie and Michael's baby news and Remi's imminent arrival, I realize that I haven't managed to fill you guys in about any of the wedding plans.   I think I even forgot to tell you that one night while Sini was away, we were talking on the phone and we chose a date.  That's a pretty important thing to neglect to mention, isn't it?   I'm usually much better with details, but I've had a lot to deal with over the past several weeks, and I guess keeping all of you up to date on the wedding stuff was one of the things that slipped my mind.   My apologies.  I'm about to remedy that.  

We're planning to get married on 17th August.   I know, that's not very far in the future!   Sini left me in charge of organizing some things while she was gone, and I enlisted practically everyone in the house to help.   Rommie says we'll never be ready in time, but I think we will.   We're not inviting a whole lot of people and we're not going for a big elaborate ceremony.  We want to get married here in our own back garden, and Sapphire says we can have an open-air reception here too, if we want.   The guys from the store and some of their friends are going to do the music for our open-air dance afterwards.  Sini loves the idea of doing everything outside.  I think it's going to be an amazing day.

The only real snag we've hit so far is what we're going to wear.  I'm sorry to say that Sini has only been home for three days and we've already had an argument about it.  We were in our room getting ready for bed last night when I asked Sini if she'd thought about what kind of dress she might like to wear when we get married.  It was an innocent enough question, or so I thought.

Sini was quite honestly horrified that I expected her to wear anything at all.  I should've realized this would be an issue but, naively, I'd assumed that every bride wants to wear a fancy dress on her wedding day.   Sini's plan, however, was to walk down the proverbial aisle in nothing but the necklace I'd given her as an engagement present.  More appalling yet, she'd somehow gotten the idea that my body was going to be equally on display.

"There's no way that's going to happen," I said.

"Why not?" she wanted to know. "It is a very important day, Tyler.   Among my people we hide nothing.  Is a wedding not supposed to be about honesty and trust?  Covering yourself is not a symbol of openness."

"I thought you wanted to do everything the Earth way."

"I have changed my mind."

"Listen," I said. "We can't get married naked for one very simple reason.  My parents are going to be here."

"I am sure your parents have seen you naked before."

"That's not the point.  My parents have never seen you naked.  My mother disapproves of you as it is, and I don't think it'd do much for family relations if we tied the knot in our birthday suits."

"Birthday suits?"

"You know, the skin you were born in."

"Oh..." she said, and giggled.  "Birthday suit.  That is a joke."

"Yeah."

"I like my birthday suit.  It is my favourite outfit."

"You know I like it too, but not everyone's going to appreciate it as much as I do," I said.

"So, you are worried about what your mother thinks?"

"Yes," I said.

She made that little snorting sound she always makes when she thinks I'm being ridiculous.  She said, "I have an elegant solution."

 "Do I want to know?"

"If you do not want your mother to see us, do not invite her."

"Sini!  She's already invited.  I can't un-invite my mother to our wedding."

"You think it is better to insist that I wear something than to risk your mother's displeasure?  You value your mother's happiness more than mine?"

"Are you asking me to pick between my mother and you?"

"Yes."

I groaned and flopped over backwards onto the pillows.  There was no possible way to win that one, and I knew it.  "Okay.  Fine," I said.  "You don't have to wear anything, but will you let me wear something, at least?"

"If you insist," she said, and somehow made it sound as if she were making a great sacrifice in permitting me to be dressed at my own wedding.  "Do you want to wear formal clothing?"

"That's usually what people wear at weddings."

"It will be black?"

"It doesn't have to be all black, but yeah, I guess most formal wear for guys is black."

"I do not like black."

"It could be white, I guess.  I've heard of guys wearing a white tuxedo."

"I really do not see why you have to wear anything at all," she said.

"I told you why not," I said.  "I'm not comfortable when I'm not wearing anything, and my parents--"

"I do not care about your parents."

"Well, I do," I said. "I'm going to be wearing something, whether it's white or black or whatever." 

"If you wear something and I do not, we will look ridiculous together."

My frustration level was rising quickly, and I found myself fighting hard to keep my voice calm and reasonably quiet.  Pax and Skyla were both sleeping in the room, after all, and the last thing I wanted was for one or both of them to wake up to me and Sini quarrelling with each other.  I didn't quite succeed in staying as calm as I intended, and caught myself  saying irritably, "Oh...now you're worried about how we're going to look together?"

"I would not expect you to understand that," she said. 

"Just because I can't see, you think I don't care how we'll look together?  I don't want us to look stupid any more than you do," I said.

"What are you going to do about it?"

"Me?" I exclaimed, instantly affronted that she was implying it would be my fault if we looked stupid.  "I'm not going to do anything about it.  You're the one who changed your mind about doing this the Earth way."

"It is not fair," she said. "We are supposed to be having a special day and we cannot even wear what we want."

"You don't want to wear anything.  That's the problem."

"I wear clothes every day because it offends humans if I do not," she said. "This is a day that is about me, and I do not care if all the unevolved humans with their ridiculous rules are offended."

"Unevolved?" I echoed. "Is that how you think of us?"

"Not all humans. I do not think you are unevolved, but you are human and you just...do not understand!"   And with that, something totally unexpected happened.  Sini, in a very un-Sini-like way, burst into tears.

Sini isn't a crier.  I mean, sometimes she cries if she's really upset or frightened or something, but she's not usually the kind of person who melts down and starts sobbing at the slightest provocation.  The only time I've ever known her to be that emotionally fragile was when we were expecting Skyla, but she had a good reason for it then.  She'd been sick and scared and uncertain about the future, and if her stress manifested itself as tears it was perfectly understandable to me.  Last night, though, I could see no reason at all why she should be crying so hard over our discussion about what to wear at our wedding.    

"What is it that you think I don't understand?" I said.

"You do not understand anything!"

That's when it occurred to me that there was something more going on beneath the surface and that our conversation had somehow moved beyond a mere disagreement over wedding clothes.   "Sini, listen to me," I said.  I reached out to her and drew my fingertips along her forearm. "I need you to help me understand.  Can you--"

"Do not touch me!"

I pulled my hand back, perplexed and hurt by her outburst.  Never before in the entire history of our acquaintance has Sini ever told me not to touch her.  I wasn't sure how to process that.  Irrationally, I worried that maybe telling someone not to touch them means something different to Erisans than it does to us.  Maybe she didn't mean, I don't want you to touch me right now.  Maybe this was a total revocation of the permission she'd given me on the first day we met, as in, Don't ever touch me again. 

While I was sitting there and trying to figure out how to deal with this new twist, another one of my fears was realized.  Our argument had, in fact, awakened one of the kids. 

I heard Pax's sleepy voice call out, "Sini?"

After several seconds in which she didn't respond to him, I said, "It's okay, Pax.  Go back to sleep."

He ignored me and said something to Sini in their language.   She replied, and then I felt the mattress shift as she climbed off our bed.  She crossed the short distance between our bed and his.  A moment later, I could hear Pax making the soft clicking noise Sini sometimes makes when she's comforting Skyla.

At that point, I didn't know what to do.  How could my simple question about a dress have transformed so quickly into this?  And what was really going on?  It was pretty clear to me that there was something Sini wasn't telling me, but I couldn't even begin to guess what it was, and I had no idea why she wouldn't share it.   Sini and I always talk about everything.  We often have differing views, but that's normal in any relationship, and in most situations we're pretty good at working our way through our differences to reach a compromise.  Sini's sudden unwillingness to communicate was troubling.  It didn't make sense.

My thoughts were interrupted by Pax.  In a puzzled tone of voice he said, "Tyler?"

"Yeah?" I said.

"Why Sini crying?"

"I don't know," I said, utterly frustrated.  "You can sense her feelings.  You probably have a better idea about why she's crying than I do."

"Sini sad," he said.  "She confused."

"Yeah."

"But why Sini crying?  Sometimes I confused, but I not cry."

"You didn't just have an argument with a human," I said.

"Oh," he said. "Why?"

"Sini doesn't want to wear clothes when we get married."

To my astonishment, Pax said, "That a very bad idea."

"What?" I said, and Sini must've had the same reaction because she blurted out something in Erisan at almost the same moment.

"People wear lots of clothes at weddings," Pax said. "Everyone know that.  You not watch TV?  Say Yes To The Dress?"

"Television!"  Sini exclaimed.  "That is so...human!"  

The next thing I knew, Sini was storming out of the room.  She slammed the door so hard behind her that I'm sure everyone in the house must've heard it. 

In the seconds that followed Sini's departure, there was almost total silence.  I tried to imagine the expression on Pax's face and wondered if he looked as stunned as I must've looked.  I could hardly believe what had just happened.  Sini had never walked out on me in the middle of an argument before, and I'd never known her to behave so dramatically.  My first instinct was to go after her and demand to know what was making her act that way, but my voice of reason warned me that doing something like that would doubtless create even more of a conflict between us.   More conflict wasn't what I wanted. 

I heard Pax's light footfalls as he padded across the floor.  He clambered onto the bed and sat beside me.   "Tyler," he said, "this a very strange night."

I couldn't have summed it up any better than that.  I agreed, "Yeah, buddy, it is."

"Know what?" he said.

"What?"

"Eris has TV.  It just has a different name." 

"It's okay," I said.  "It doesn't matter about TV.  That's not the problem."

"What the problem?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure it's not television."

"Oh," Pax said.  He was quiet for a while and then he informed me,  "Sini has a secret."

"I know," I said.  "I think that's pretty obvious."

"It something big."

That particular revelation surprised me.  Before I could stop myself, I asked, "Did she tell you?"

"No," Pax said.  "I feel the feeling.  I not know the name, but it like a...big secret feeling."

"Something bad?" I said.  "Like a guilty feeling?"

"No.   It feel like a big surprise, but different.  Maybe...a surprise nobody wants." 

 "Is she scared to tell me?  Does she think I'll be angry?"

"I not know what she thinks.  She not scared, but it like..."  He paused, and I guessed he was trying to work out how to express a concept that he might not have the words for.  Finally, he said. "It feel like your feelings when you go to your special doctor."

My 'special doctor' is a gastroenterologist, and I see him twice a year.  My last appointment was in June.  I'd been having some problems, and I wasn't particularly eager to go to the appointment because I fully anticipated that when I told my doctor how I was doing, he would insist on sending me for tests.  In case you don't know, the kind of tests gastroenterologists like to send patients for do not, in my opinion, fall into the category of 'non-invasive procedures'.   Yeah, I knew exactly what kind of feeling Pax was describing.

"Anxiety," I said.

"Anxiety," Pax repeated. "Sini feels that."

"Why?" I asked, realizing just as the word left my mouth that I shouldn't have expected Pax to be able to give me any kind of answer to the question.

"Ask Sini," he said. "I not know."

"I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have asked you."

"It okay," he said, and patted the top of my head in the same way a person might show affection to a pet.  "Tyler confused.  I understand."

Despite how I was feeling, I had to smile.   I knew Pax really did understand how confused I was, and he was trying to comfort me the best he could. He's really perceptive, and sometimes he shows signs of maturity well beyond his relative age.

The two of us were quiet after that exchange, and it wasn't long before Pax started to fall asleep.   When he began to slump against me, I coaxed him to lie down.  It didn't matter that he was still on my bed.   I pulled the blankets over him and stayed next to him until the regular rhythm of his breathing told me that he'd drifted off.   For my part, there was no way I could go to sleep; my mind was too full of tangled and frantic thoughts to allow me to do that.  I slid down to the floor and sat with my back resting against the side of the bed. 

I tried in vain to figure out what kind of secret Sini was keeping from me.  Pax had said Sini was anxious and that her secret was a big surprise nobody wanted.  For the life of me, I couldn't come up with any solid answer as to what it might be.  At first I thought maybe she was ill, but then I decided that wasn't the sort of thing she'd hide from me.  Usually, if she suffers something as minor as a scratch or a bruise, she tries to show it to me.    Maybe she'd met someone while she was away, or maybe she was having serious second thoughts about us getting married, or...

My mind spun out a dozen horrible possibilities, each new one worse than its predecessor.

This is no good, I told myself. You're just torturing yourself.  Stop it.

It's hard to stop thinking.  I tried to distract myself by mentally reciting the lyrics to a bunch of songs, and that seemed to help a little.  Counting backwards from one thousand helped.  Playing air guitar and attempting to remember all the chords to every song on the Beatles' White Album  kept me occupied for a while, too.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it felt like hours.  Eventually my eyelids started getting heavy, but I fought the urge to close my eyes.  If I gave in, I knew I'd be asleep in seconds.  Sini and I promised each other that we'd never go to sleep angry, and although I wasn't angry at her, I didn't know if she was still angry at me.  I hoped she'd come back and talk to me.  I wanted to know that everything would be okay between us.  If I had to stay awake all night and speak to her in the morning, so be it.

"Tyler?"

At the sound of my name, I was so startled that I made an audible gasping noise and jerked upright from my slouched position.  I must've been closer to sleep than I'd thought, because I hadn't heard the bedroom door being opened nor had I heard anyone walking in.

"Sini!" I exclaimed.

"Who else would it be?" she said.

"What time is it?"

"It is late.  What are you doing on the floor?"

"Thinking," I said.

"What are you thinking about?"

"You."

She lowered herself to the floor beside me.  Uninvited, she began to stroke my ear with the tip of her finger.  Part of me wanted to react to that, move my head and tell her to stop touching me, but the idea only lasted for a second.  The truth is, I like it when she touches the sensitive skin there and, underneath my initial impulse to react, I was relieved that her edict against us touching had been temporary after all.

She said, "I could feel you trying to stay awake."

"There's an emotion that goes with that?"

"Yes," she said. "Stubbornness."

"Look who's talking," I said. 

"Are you okay?"

"Are you still angry with me?"

"No," she said.  She lowered her hand from my ear.  "I was not really angry at all.  I was..."

When she didn't finish the sentence, I suggested, "Confused?"

"I do not know," she said.  "I do not know why I acted so...irrational.  Perhaps it is stress."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."  She nestled against my side and laid her head on my shoulder. "I do not want to talk about anything right now."

"We always talk about it if something's bothering us, don't we?"

"Please, Tyler," she said.  "I do not want to talk now.  I do not even want to think."

"Okay," I said.  "We don't have to talk now, but I don't think we should put off talking indefinitely."

"We will not.   I will talk when I am ready."

"Okay," I said.

"You are worried," she said.

"Yes, of course I'm worried."

"There is no reason to worry." 

I didn't really believe that, but I tried not to dwell on it too much.  I didn't want my uncertainty to be the strongest emotion she sensed from me just then.   I wanted her to feel me loving her, because no matter what else might be going on inside my head and heart, my love for her will always be there.  I said, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yes," she said, and then added in a whisper. "Please...no more talking. "

"Okay."  I put my good arm around her and drew her in closer to me.  She sighed, and so did I. 

When I woke up this morning, we were still huddled together on the floor.  I don't actually remember falling asleep like that, but my back and neck keep reminding me today why sleeping in a sitting position is bad.   I don't mind it, though, because the aches in my body remind me of something else as well.   I may have slept sitting up, but so did Sini, and we held each other all night. 

Sini was quiet this morning, and Rommie told me that she mostly kept to herself all day.   I still don't know what Sini's secret is.   When I do find out, it may not be something I can share.  I hope you guys understand.   If it is something I can tell you, though, I promise that I will. 

Feeling The Love

Sini is home!

I could probably repeat that about ten times, tell you how elated I am, and consider this post complete, but I think you guys deserve a little more of a news update than that.  There actually are a few things going on around here besides Sini's homecoming that are worthy of note. 

I went back to work on Thursday.  Eddie - that's my boss, in case haven't told you his name before - only had me down for a four-hour shift on Thursday morning, but once he saw that I could handle most of my tasks without help, he said I could come in for my full shift on Friday and Saturday.  I'm really grateful to be earning a pay cheque again and I'm happy to be back with my co-workers at the store.  As luck would have it, though, when Sini arrived home on Saturday morning, I was at work.

Of course, now that I'm thinking about it, maybe it wasn't such bad luck after all.  Sini had been home all day, so by the time I got off work she'd already spent some quality time with Skyla and Pax and caught up on all the neighbourhood gossip with Rommie.  When I walked through the front door, she was ready to give me her undivided attention.

She must've been watching for me from our bedroom window.  The second I entered the house, I could hear her running down the stairs and she was making a noise that I can only describe as a prolonged squeal.  Sini and Pax have a whole vocabulary of non-words; sounds that range from soft clicks or chirps to an excruciatingly high-pitched keening noise.  Each one of those sounds conveys an emotion more eloquently than a hundred words ever could.   Just at that moment, Sini's non-word clearly meant excitement.  She flung herself at me and hugged me with dangerous enthusiasm, squeezing me so tightly that she might've hurt me if she were any stronger.  I returned the embrace as best I could with one arm.

"Happy to see me?" I teased.  I was doing my best to keep my voice light despite my own excitement. "You're acting like we've been apart for a month."

"It cannot have been only a month," she said. "It felt like forever."

"So, you missed me?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"Tyler!" she exclaimed. "Stop teasing me, or I will bite you."

I laughed out loud at that. "I've got the feeling you're probably going to bite me anyway."

"Sometimes I cannot help myself," she said. "I cannot resist your adorable ears."

"Try to, please."

She reached up to catch my earlobe between her thumb and finger; a careful pinch that seemed to hint at something more to come. "So cute!" she said.

"They won't be so cute with teeth marks on them."

"I never leave marks," she said.  "That would not be polite."

"Biting people isn't polite."

She giggled, but didn't make any further comment on the relationship between her teeth and my ears. Instead she asked, "Did you miss me?"

"You know I did."

"How much?"

"More than I have words for," I said, and I let go my pretense of playfulness. "I missed you so much, I think I might've started going a little insane."

"Insane enough to throw yourself from a tree?"

I should've realized that was coming.  "It was an accident," I said. "I fell."

"Rommie says you were showing off," she said, and all the teasing was suddenly gone from her tone, too.

"Yeah," I admitted. "I was lonely and bored, and Michael and I decided to have a climbing contest."

"Do you think that is appropriate behaviour for an adult?"

"Are you angry?"

"We will talk about it later," she said.

We did talk about it later, and she was surprisingly gentle. I really had expected a scorching lecture about how I should be more mature and responsible, but what actually happened is that we had a quiet discussion about why it's always a good idea to think before acting.  I know this.  Sini knows that I know it.   I guess she must've decided she'd get better results by reminding me to be more careful in the future than she would if she yelled at me about how careless I'd been in the recent past.   Her choice of strategy was a good one because I really do feel bad about what happened, and our little chat made me think about it far more than an irate speech from her would have done.

She left me to ponder the error of my ways for a while but, true to form, she came back to me a little later and said she was sorry that she had to scold me.  She said she hoped I understood why it was necessary, and that she did it because she loves me.  I remember my father saying similar things to me when I was a kid and I was being punished for misbehaving.  We're doing this for your own good, Tyler. Dad usually concluded that speech with a quick and modest hug.   Sini's restitutionary embrace was neither chaste nor brief, and I was left with no doubt as to her true feelings for me. 

Things have settled back to normal since Saturday.  Sini hasn't mentioned the incident with the tree any more, except to say that she's anxious for me to get my cast off.   She says she has plans for when I have two working arms again.  Some of these plans involve the rearranging of furniture in our room to accommodate some mystery item Sini says we're going to need.  I have no idea what she's talking about, to be honest.  Maybe she wants an armoire or something. For someone who doesn't like to wear clothes, she seems to have accumulated a lot of them lately.  Or maybe it's exercise equipment.  I'd never mention this to her, but I think she might've gained a little weight while she was away.  Not a lot, but enough for me to notice on close inspection that she doesn't seem to be quite as slim around the waist as she was when she left.  Then again, maybe she's thinking about getting a bed for Skyla, since Skyla is really outgrowing her crib.   In any case, there's no point in my asking what this mysterious and apparently necessary item is supposed to be.   I've learned that Sini does things in her own time and it does me no good to push.  She'll tell me when she's ready.

Oh, you're probably all itching with curiosity to see a picture of Sini after the results of her beautifying retreat, aren't you?   I forget about pictures sometimes, and of course you guys all know that I already thought she was beautiful before she went away.   She's been getting tons of compliments from everyone.  Rommie says she's glowing and radiant.  Actually, I've heard that phrase applied to Rommie a lot lately too, but everyone seems to say that about women who are expecting.  I don't know what it means in reference to Sini.

Anyway, I'll let you guys judge for yourselves. 

In case you should think I'm the only person around here who missed Sini, I can tell you that Pax has some pretty strong feelings about having his 'mother' back.

I knew that Pax minded Sini's absence, but I had no idea of just how difficult his separation from her had been until Saturday night when we were tucking him into bed.   We wanted to go back downstairs, but Pax didn't want to let Sini leave.   He clung to her and when she tried to disentangle herself from him, he started whimpering.

"Sini not go!" he begged.

"Pax, it is okay," she said.  "I will be in the living room."

"Noooo...!" he said, drawing the syllable out into a wail.

"It is time for you to go to sleep," Sini told him firmly.

At that, he started sobbing uncontrollably.   It took us quite a while to help him calm down.   When he finally stopped crying I asked him why he didn't want Sini to go downstairs, and his response was distressing.

"I go to sleep, maybe Sini not there when I wake up," he said.  "Maybe Sini not come back."

"I will always come back," she told him.  "You are very important to me, Pax.   You and Tyler and Skyla are my family.   I know you can feel how much Tyler and I love you."

"Yes," he said quietly.  "I feel you love me."

"Do you think I could go away and never come back to someone I love so much?" she said.

 He was silent for a long time.  Finally, he said, "Piri love me, but he never come back."

That was the end of the discussion as far as I was concerned.   The events that separated Pax from his father weren't anyone's fault, and I was sure that given the choice, Piri wouldn't have wanted to be separated from Pax.  I didn't know how much Pax really comprehended about what had happened to their ship and whether or not he fully grasped that Piri hadn't left him on purpose.  It was probably true that Piri would never be coming back though, and I immediately understood why Pax was so anxious.  He'd lost Piri and he was permanently cut off from his other two parents.  He couldn't bear the idea of losing his new family as well.

"I think you should stay with him for a while, Sini," I said.  "I think he needs some reassurance."

"You stay too," she said.  "You are his father now.  It is important."

His father.

The impact of her statement crashed over me like a wave, and I think I must've experienced a dozen different emotions at once.    Sini reached for my hand.    I knew that she felt what I was feeling, and I was grateful that she understood the weight of responsibility that one word had placed on me.   She understood it because in declaring herself to be Pax's family - his mother - she'd placed the responsibility on herself too.

I squeezed her hand gently, trying to tell her silently that we were in this together, no matter what.

We stayed with Pax until he drifted off.  By then, we decided that we might as well go to bed too.  We checked on Skyla before we turned in and found that our unflappable baby was undisturbed and sound asleep as if nothing at all had happened.  Skyla could sleep through just about anything, I think. 

Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Sini and I crawled under the covers, but we didn't go to sleep right away.  For a long time we just lay there holding each other and not saying anything.   There were so many things I wanted to say.  I wanted to tell Sini how remarkable I think she is, and how I think she's the strongest, most courageous and most beautiful person I know.  I wanted to say how grateful I am that she chose me, of all people, as her partner in life.  I love you, I wanted to say.  I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life.

I don't know why I didn't say any of that, but there was something about the stillness and peacefulness in the room that made me not want to spoil it with words that would be too inadequate to express everything that was in my heart.  I guess I should know by now, though, that words aren't always necessary with Sini. 

"I can feel you loving me," she whispered in my ear.

I smiled at that.   I can't read people's emotions like she can but, lying there in her arms, it occurred to me that even without the benefit of empathic abilities I could feel her loving me too.  

Tales Of A One-Armed Blind Man

I always seem to start these things by telling you that I've got good news and bad news.  Let me start with the really good news this time.  Sini is on her way home!   I got so excited about that particular bit of news that I think I've told everyone in the house at least five times.  I can hardly wait until she's home again.   Of course, the bad news is that I'm going to have to explain to her about how I broke my arm.  I don't imagine that'll go over very well, although I'm hoping she'll be so happy to see me and Skyla that she won't be too hard on me for my stupid, logic-defying stunt.  One of the nice things about Sini, though, is that she never stays mad at me for very long, and when she wants to make up, she really means it.  Lots and lots of cuddles?  Yes, please. 

The other news is that Remi is supposed to be here sometime next week.  Xander is pretty stoked about that.  He and Remi have lots of plans for things they want to do when Remi gets here.  It sounds to me like they're not going to be here much during the first week or so of Remi's visit.

And in yet more news, we now know that Rommie and Michael are having a girl.   At first they didn't want to find out the baby's gender but, evidently, Rommie changed her mind.  I find it interesting how some parents want to know the baby's gender before he or she is born while other parents don't. Before Skyla was born, I was of the opinion that it didn't matter if I knew. I'd be happy with our baby regardless of whether it was a girl or a boy.  Sini says she knew we were having a girl because, like all Erisan mothers, she had a psychic connection with our unborn child.  When she asked if I wanted her to tell me, I said no.  Sini thought it was strange that I wasn't curious about it.  I assured her that I was indeed very curious, but knowing wouldn't make any difference in terms of how I felt about the new life we'd made together, so I was content just to wait and see. 

With Michael, I think it's a different story.  It's not so much that he's content to wait and see, but more like he doesn't particularly care.  It's actually a little frightening to me, thinking about how uninvolved he is with this baby. In a way very typical of him, he informed Rommie that he couldn't go with her to her doctor's appointment earlier this week because they couldn't afford for him to take the morning off work.   Smooth move, Michael.   Seriously, these two have issues they really need to work out before it's too late. 

Xander and Cassie didn't want their sister to go to her appointment alone, so they decided they'd go with her.   They took Cleo and Jack with them too, which I was grateful for, because with Sini away, Radek off somewhere with his friends, and everyone else at work, I was the only responsible person left in the house.  The only one awake, at least.   Hunter was at home but she sleeps half the day and she isn't good with kids in any case.   I can manage with just Pax and Skyla, but I don't think I would've been able to handle Pax plus three little ones without help, even if I did have the use of both arms.  It was Cassie's idea to bring her little niece and nephew along.  She told her sister that she thought it'd be a lot of work for me to take care of them all by myself.  I thought that was very mature and considerate of her.

As a matter of fact, nearly everyone's been pretty considerate of my needs lately, and maybe even too considerate in some cases.  Since I got out of the hospital, nearly everybody has been waiting on me hand and foot.  It was kind of nice for the first several days when the painkillers were making me feel like crap and I was spending most of the day either lying in my bed or lying on the couch, but now that I'm up and around, everybody's solicitousness is getting kind of old.  I don't mind if somebody wants to help me pour a glass of milk or something, since that's a little tricky with just one hand, but I'm perfectly capable of carrying my own glass of milk to the dining room.   I can also go out onto the deck by myself, turn on the radio by myself and, despite both Beau's and Dylan's insistence to the contrary, go up and down the stairs by myself.  

The only people around here who aren't treating me like I'm made of glass are Xander and Rommie.  Of course, it's nothing less than I expected of Xander.  I'd think something was wrong if he didn't avail himself of every opportunity to give me a hard time about falling out of that tree.   Xander is acting pretty normal around me, actually, which is refreshing.   I wish everybody else would take the hint.

Rommie has her own way of handling me and my broken arm. She isn't being unreasonable and I know she's aware of what I can and can't do, but her general strategy seems to be that she's simply ignoring the fact that I'm in pain.  My arm still hurts and it's probably going to for a while, but the discomfort is bearable without prescription drugs now.   I'm down to over-the-counter stuff during the day and I only take the good stuff at night to help me sleep.  Rommie says she's pretty sure I'm not supposed to be doing it that way, but I don't care.    The prescription medication was making me feel horrible and I didn't like it.  I'd rather suffer a little pain in my arm than be messed up like that, thank you very much.

Anyway, because I'm at home with her all day,  Rommie has conscripted me into the role of her personal assistant.  I've become the official fetch-and-carry guy, as long as the object in question can be carried in one hand.   Rommie expects me to do as much as I'm able, to help her around the house.  She had me dusting furniture this morning, and yesterday I somehow found myself in the back yard taking laundry off the clothes line.    It's hard to take clothes off the line with just one hand, and I couldn't fold them or carry the laundry basket inside.  I lost a few clothes pegs but, fortunately, I didn't drop anyone's clothes. 

Today after lunch, Pax and I helped Rommie make strawberry jam.   I think Pax was probably more helpful than I was, since my only job was to stand at the stove with a wooden spoon and "stir constantly, Tyler.  If you don't keep stirring, it'll burn onto the bottom of the pot."

I'll remember that.  If I should ever be so unfortunate as to be drafted into making jam again, that information could be vital.

Pax's job was a lot more interesting.  He was helping to clean the berries, which included plucking all the leaves off and then rinsing the berries in our big stainless steel colander.   Pax wanted to know why we were throwing away the green parts, and Rommie told him that he should taste some of the leaves and figure out the answer for himself.

 Rommie knows that Erisans are evolved vegetarians - there's no such thing as a meat-eating native of Eris - but I'm not sure if she fully comprehends that Erisan tastes run a little differently than ours.   Pretty much all non-toxic plant matter is on the menu as far as Erisans are concerned.  I've had to remind Sini on more than one occasion that it's not proper to pick and eat flowers from people's front gardens when we're out for a walk, and Pax caused a minor incident several weeks ago when we were visiting a neighbour and he helped himself to one of her houseplants.  Sini eats the entire orange, peel and all, and I've also known her to do the same with lime and grapefruit.   She says the peel is the best part.   Skyla likes orange peel too, and will happily nibble on small pieces that Sini cuts up for her. 

Pax did indeed taste the strawberry leaves.  I think Rommie was a little shocked, because she exclaimed, "Pax!  I didn't really mean for you to eat them!"

"Why?" Pax said.  "Green parts taste good.  Why humans not eat them?"

"Because the green part is leaves.  Humans don't eat leaves."

"Spinach is leaves," Pax pointed out.  "Humans eat spinach."

"He's got a point, you know," I said.  "Lettuce is leaves too, and we eat that.  We eat mint and dill, and those are leaves.  Cabbage is leaves, I think."

"Nobody asked you," Rommie said.

She's been moody lately, so I chose to overlook her testiness.  I said to Pax, "Humans don't eat the leaves from strawberry plants because they don't taste good to us.  You know how you and Sini don't like cheese?  It's the same for us with strawberry leaves.  We could eat them if we wanted to, and they wouldn't hurt us, but we don't think the flavour is very nice."

"I understand," Pax said.  "Can I eat all the leaves?"

"If you want to," I said.

"Cool!" Pax said.

"Take them off the strawberries, first," Rommie said, and there was unmistakeable scolding in her tone.

"I like strawberries, too."

Rommie sighed noisily and grumbled,  "I don't know why I asked the two of you to help."

"Because you thought we had nothing better to do?" I said.

"Because we are helpful," Pax said.

"You're a nuisance," Rommie said.  "Both of you, get out of my kitchen."

"But I thought I was supposed to stir constantly," I said.

Rommie stomped across the floor and took the wooden spoon from me.  "Go," she said. "I'll do it."

"Fine, if you insist."

"I do."

So, that was the end of my jam-making experience.  To be honest, I wasn't really all that upset about being banished from the kitchen.  The heat was starting to bother me and, inside my cast, my arm was sweating and itching horribly.   I was glad for the chance to go to my room, turn on the fan, take off my shirt and not move for a while. 

I figured it was just about time for Skyla's nap, too.  She, Jack and Cleo had been playing in the hallway just outside the kitchen door where I could hear them and Rommie could see them but where they wouldn't be underfoot.   Skyla was starting to whine, and I guessed maybe the heat was bothering her as well.   I asked Pax to carry Skyla and come upstairs with me.  Pax likes it when he's allowed to pick Skyla up.  He takes his 'big brother' responsibilities very seriously and is really careful and gentle with her. 

Upstairs in our room, I asked Pax to put Skyla down on the bed with me instead of in her crib.   Sini and I haven't made a habit of letting Skyla sleep in our bed, but  lately it's been easier to settle her in bed with me than to try to get her in and out of her crib safely with just one arm.   Skyla loves it, of course.    Mommy may be away, but there's all this unexpected snuggling with Daddy.   When Sini gets back, we may have a battle on our hands convincing Skyla to sleep in her crib again, but I'll worry about that when the time comes.

Pax decided to stay in the room with us.   As Skyla and I settled down for our nap, i listened to him playing with his toys and chattering away in Erisan to his imaginary friend Ki.   I wish I could've understood what he was saying.   I can pick out a few Erisan words, but mostly it just sounds like jumbled up sounds to me; musical sounds, but nonsensical nevertheless.  I'm probably missing lots of cute and amusing things, not being able to comprehend these make-believe conversations between Pax and his invisible friend.   Maybe I should ask Sini to start teaching me her language.  She and Pax have learned mine, after all.

I was nearly asleep, lulled by the whirring of the fan and the curious cadence of Pax's voice, when I caught the sound of footsteps in the hallway.   There was a perfunctory knock on the door, and then I heard, "Tyler?"

"Hmmm...?" I mumbled.

"What are you doing?" Rommie asked as she stepped into the room.

"Sleeping," I said.

"Can you do something for me?"

I opened my eyes and struggled toward some semblance of alertness.  "What?"

"Would you mind running an errand for me?"

"I thought you didn't want me to help you."

"Not in the kitchen," she said.  "I want you to go to the supermarket."

"No," I said, not uncharitably. "I'm not going to the supermarket.  Skyla and I are resting."

"Skyla might be resting, but you're being lazy," she said. "I just want you to get a few things.  It'll only take you half an hour, at most.  I'll watch Skyla."

"Rommie," I said. "How am I supposed to go shopping without a free hand to carry stuff?"

"You've got a free hand."

"Which one would that be?  The one that's encased in plaster or the one that's going to be holding my cane?"

I know that was sarcastic, but I honestly couldn't believe Rommie thought I'd be able to accomplish this proposed trip to the supermarket by myself.   The only way I'd have a free hand is if I wasn't using my cane, and there was no way that would ever happen.  I mean, it's fine inside the house where I don't actually need my cane to help me get around, but walking the three blocks to our local grocery store is a completely different story.  I know the route well enough, but I don't think I'd make it to the corner of our street without my cane.   I'd be too scared of bumping into an overturned trash bin or an illegally parked car or, worse yet, catching my foot in a crack in the sidewalk and falling on my face on the concrete. 

"You can take your backpack," Rommie said.  "When you get there, Beau or Dylan can help you."

"Right, because I'm sure their managers would really appreciate them leaving their work to help me find and carry stuff that you probably don't even need."

Dylan has been working as a cashier at the supermarket since January, which he hates, but at least it helps pay the bills.  Beau, on the other hand, really seems to enjoy being a supermarket employee.  He just started working there about a month ago and his job is in the meat department. Rommie should've known that neither Beau nor Dylan could leave his work to run her errands.  She wasn't about to give up easily, though.

"Well...you can ask one of the people at Customer Service to help you, then.  That's what you usually do, isn't it?"

"I don't see why you can't just go there yourself," I said.

"Because it's too hot," she said.

"And it's not too hot for you in the kitchen?"

"That's different."

From down on the floor where he'd been playing, Pax piped up, "I go to the store."

"Not by yourself," I said.

"I already go by myself.  Sini say okay."

"Sini let you go three blocks by yourself?  She...no, never mind." I sighed as I realized it'd be utterly useless at that point to raise a protest about something Sini had let Pax do, especially since she wasn't even there to explain herself.  I sat up. "Okay, Rommie, you win.  I'll go shopping for you, and Pax can come along to help me find things." 

"Can I have treats?" Pax asked.

"Sure," I said. "Why not?"

"Here's my list," Rommie said, and pressed a piece of paper into my hand.

"Rommie!  How am I supposed to--"

"I read," Pax offered.  He bounced onto the bed and snatched the list. "It say butter and....I not know this word, or this word...and carrots...and other words I not know."

"Great," I said.

"I spell," Pax suggested, undeterred. "M-i-l-k."

"Milk."

"We not buy that, okay?" Pax said. "What spells b-r-e-a-d?"

"Bread," I told him.  "And we're buying milk, even if you don't like it."

"I buy apple juice," he decided. "S-u-g-a-r?"

"Sugar."

"We buy lots and lots of that."

"You'll figure it out," said Rommie. "Pax, you can help carry the shopping bags, can't you?  And make sure you hold Tyler's hand when you cross the street, okay?"

'That silly," Pax scoffed. "Tyler big.  He cross the street by himself."

Despite the mood in the room, I couldn't help laughing at that.  "I don't think she's worried about me crossing the street by myself, Pax."

"I cross the street by myself too.  I look both ways," he said, and added proudly, "I learn that from TV.  I watch Sesame Street." 

Thank you, children's educational programming, for teaching my adopted alien son about sidewalk safety.

Pax did not hold my hand on the way to the grocery store.  He skipped along beside me, singing songs that I presume he also learned from Sesame Street.  When we got to the corner, he announced that he was looking both ways and told me when the cars had stopped.  Our walk to the store was remarkably uneventful.  It was the time we spent inside the store that I hadn't been fully prepared for. 

I made my usual first stop at Customer Service, just to say hi to the ladies who work there.  I'm on a first-name basis with all of them.  The fact of which I was utterly unaware, but which I quickly discovered, was that Pax is on a first-name basis with them, too.

As we approached the counter, Pax made an excited little chirping noise and called out, "Hi, Melissa!"

Melissa is my favourite Customer Service lady.  She always seems cheerful and she loves to talk.  We have great conversations when she helps me do my shopping.  She has a huge crush on my cousin Dylan, and she always makes a point of taking me through Dylan's cash line.  Her excuse is that she's facilitating a nice little meeting between me and my cousin, but I know her real motive is so she can chat with him.

"Hello, Pax," Melissa said.  "Hey, Tyler.  I guess you've brought your own helper today, huh?"

"I guess so," I said.  "You and Pax know each other, I guess."

"Pax is hard to forget," Melissa said.

"I unforgettable," Pax confirmed.  "Melissa has candy today?"

"Pax!" I scolded, but Melissa was laughing.

"I have peppermints," she said. "Do you want one, Pax?"

"Yes, please," he said.  "Guess what, Melissa?  I have a list." 

"A shopping list?"

"Yes.  I help Tyler buy important stuff, and milk, but that not important."   

Melissa was still laughing as she gave Pax his peppermint and wished us luck in making our 'important' purchases.   Pax scurried off to get a cart, which I decided he was responsible enough to push around on his own.  When he rejoined me I asked him, "How often does Sini let you come here by yourself, Pax?"

"When I want treats," he said.

"Yeah, but how often is that?" 

"I not know.   Sometimes I want lots of treats.   Sini give me money and she say be careful and look both ways when I cross the street.  I buy apple juice and noodles and then I go home."

"Does Melissa always give you candy?"

"Sometimes peppermints and sometimes jellybeans."

"I see," I said.

Pax giggled at that and said, "No."

I sighed.  I decided that I'd definitely have to talk with Sini about this.   Until that moment, I had no idea that Pax was out wandering around the neighbourhood by himself.   Sini and I may be in agreement about how to parent Skyla but, apparently, our views on how to parent our other child are quite different.   If I'd known about Pax's solo trips to the store, I might've raised a strong objection to it.

Shopping with Pax was an adventure, I must say, but it didn't exactly match the scenario I'd envisioned.   I imagined the presence of an overexcited alien in the supermarket might've drawn a huge amount of attention, but not once did I hear anyone say a word about Pax.  I wouldn't have been surprised if we'd encountered someone exclaiming, 'Look...it's a green boy with pointed ears!" but I never heard anything like that.  What I did hear were plenty of comments about me.  While Pax and I were selecting vegetables, a couple of older ladies were chatting nearby and one of them said something like, "Oh, my!  Just look at that poor boy!  He must've been in a terrible accident!" and her friend replied that I must be very brave to be out shopping in my obviously fragile condition.

It definitely took fortitude to go shopping, but not because I'm blind or because my arm is in a cast.  The real test of inner strength was trying not to lose my patience with Pax for constantly begging me to let him buy ice cream, gum and instant noodles or for running off and leaving me whenever something caught his eye.  Add to that the nagging pain in my arm and the frustration of not being able to read Rommie's list without Pax's help, and I needed plenty of courage indeed.

When it came to overheard conversations, though, the piece de resistance wasn't the sympathetic chatter of the little old ladies in the produce section. The best line of the day came from some young guy in the frozen foods section who was presumably talking to his friend.  "Dude, check it out!  A one-armed blind man!"

I've got to ask what the world is coming to.  I go shopping with an alien, but I'm the center of attention?  Of course, maybe one-armed blind men are even more rare than aliens in this neighbouhood.

O brave new world, that has such people in it!

What Shall We Name The Baby?

My dear sister-in-law Rommie has somehow gotten the impression that, since I'm spending a lot of time in bed and seem to have nothing better to do, I should help her compile a list of suitable baby names.  Apparently she's given up on the idea of naming the baby Sarah if it's a girl, which is a good thing in my opinion.   When I asked Rommie what she meant by 'suitable' names, she gave me her list of conditions.  A suitable name can't be the name of anyone famous (i.e. Sarah Brightman), it can't start with the letter B, it can't be the name of another family member, and it can't be a name I think Michael will hate.

Yeah...that pretty much shrinks the field. 

I've added a few entries to the list myself.  Although that might sound easy, it was really harder than I expected.  I had to pick something I thought Rommie and Michael would like, but not something that I might want to call my own son or daughter in the event that Sini and I have another child some day.   So far, my contributions are Emily and Sasha for girls, and Daniel and Max for boys. 

Rommie says she's open to suggestions from everybody, even you guys out there in internet land.

Everyone who comes into my room gets polled.   Nobody is allowed to leave before making a suggestion.  When anyone says that I'm becoming annoying, I just smile and blame Rommie.   If people complain to her, maybe we can conclude the making of this increasingly long list, and she and Michael can start narrowing it down.

I've added the condition that there will be no words for food or inanimate objects co-opted as baby names on this list, as a direct result of Cassie's suggestion of 'Vanilla' and Radek's suggestion of 'Diamond'.   It goes without saying that Pax has put forward some more of his bizarre ideas.   I'm seriously thinking of making a separate list just for the amusing things Pax comes up with.

The best - albeit most ironic - Pax name so far is 'Cash Flow'.  When I asked him how he came up with that one, he told me that he'd overheard Rommie and Michael arguing and, at one point, Michael had evidently said something like, "If you want my honest opinion, this baby is just going to add to the negative cash flow around here."   While I think Cash would actually be kind of a cute name for a boy, I don't think it'd be very good for any kid to go through life with the reminder that his father considered him part of the greater problem before he was even born.  'Cash' will be going onto the special Pax list, I think. 

And if, by the previous paragraph, you've judged there may be some trouble in Paradise, I wouldn't hesitate to say that you're right.   Remember how I said a while back that I thought the baby was unplanned and that it didn't seem to me as if Michael wants another kid?  The more I hear around here, the more I think that's true.   I'm waiting for an opportunity to talk to him about it.   It's not like him and Rommie to fight so often.  I mean, they've had their moments just like any couple, but they used to work things out sensibly.  Now, it seems all they do is argue about everything from the small stuff like what to have for dinner and whose turn it is to make their bed, to the big stuff like money and...well, kids.

I want Sini to come home.  She could talk sense into them.  I'm too concerned with being circumspect.   Sini, on the other hand, would probably just up and tell them to get their act together.   She'd tell Michael to grow up and stop being so selfish and she'd tell Rommie to stop acting like she's a victim of circumstance.    Blaming each other is stupid.  If they didn't wnat another child, they should've done something to prevent it in the first place.

I'd better stop before I work up to a really good rant.  

New topic?  Sure, I can do that.  In news unrelated to my broken arm, my misery over being separated from my soulmate, and the continuing saga of as-yet-unnamed Baby Brightman, I was informed this morning that Xander's boyfriend Remi is coming for a visit.  This should be interesting.  If you'd asked me a month ago whether I cared about Remington Garrett-Gray, I probably would've said no, or at least I would've said that I only cared enough to be pleased that Xander was happy.   I've heard so much about Remi lately, though, that now I'm genuinely interested to meet the guy.  Xander was kind of vague about Remi's exact date of arrival, but I got the impression that he'll be here within the next couple of weeks.

I'll keep you all updated, as always.

The Game of One-Upmanship

Yeah, go ahead and say it.  I'm a hypocrite.   After this past week's events, being called that is nothing less than I deserve.

You're probably wondering what this spate of self-deprecation is all about, right?  It's about my lapse in good judgment and my utter abandonment of common sense.   On Thursday, I proved once and for all that I'm an idiot.   As I'm sure you remember, a while back I practically preached a sermon about being careful and responsible, about how I don't let Pax and Skyla do stuff that I think is dangerous, and about how I always try to think twice before doing something reckless myself.  You recall that?  Well, you're doing better than me because, apparently, I forgot it in my need to prove that anything my twin brother can do, I can do better.

How's this for evidence that I need to be protected from myself?

Yeah...broken wrist.  And before you ask, yes, it hurts.  It hurts a lot.

I'll be wearing this cast for at least a month, and I'll probably need physical therapy after that.   It's my left arm, too.  In case you didn't know, I'm left-handed, so this means I can't feed myself properly,  and I can't brush my teeth or comb my hair with any degree of skill.    Ever try doing that stuff with the wrong hand?  It's stupidly difficult.  Getting dressed by myself is a manageable challenge; however, shaving is entirely out of the question.  Michael has volunteered to help me shave, but I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of my brother shaving me.   Possibly being shaved by Michael isn't even the worst part.  The worst part is that I have to hold my cane in the wrong hand as well.   I can't even begin to describe how awkward that is.  It's more crippling than having a broken arm.

Oh...and just in case you're wondering, I'm not typing this.  My awesome cousin Dylan installed some kind of voice-recognition software on my laptop so that I can just tell the computer what I want to say and it'll write it for me.  I'd like to think he did it for altruistic reasons, but it was more than likely to prevent me from pestering everyone to help me do stuff on the computer.   Whatever the reason, though, I'm grateful.

The doctor said I'm supposed to rest as much as possible for the next few days, and Sapphire somehow interpreted that to mean I should stay in bed.   The painkillers upset my stomach and they make me feel pretty much out of it, so maybe staying in bed isn't such a bad idea, but when I'm awake and alert, I need something to do.   Since I can't play the guitar or the piano and I can only read with one hand, audiobooks, iTunes and the internet on my laptop are keeping me occupied. 

I needed surgery to set my wrist.   Did I mention that I don't like hospitals?  Having to spend the weekend in the hospital didn't thrill me much. let me tell you.  I wasn't allowed to eat for nearly eighteen hours before they were finally able to operate on my arm, and then when I came out of surgery I was too sick to eat.  When I finally did get some food it was utterly disgusting.   I was in a room with two old guys who kept asking me personal questions.  When one of them ventured to ask me how I broke my arm.  I told him I did it playing extreme sports.   I'm pretty sure neither one of them realized I'm blind, because they seemed to buy that explanation.  One of them even muttered something like, "Young boys these days...no sense of responsibility!"   I can just imagine what he would've said if he knew what really happened.

Anyway, I was discharged from the hospital this morning.   The surgeon wrote me a note for my boss and put me off work for the next ten days, which means there won't be a pay cheque coming in.  That sucks, especially since I just started back on full-time hours.

The last couple of days haven't been a great time in my life.  My only consolation, ironically enough, is that Sini isn't here right now.  If she were, she'd probably be furious with me for being so irresponsible, and then my life would really be complicated.

So, now you want to know the truth about how it happened, don't you?  I guess I'd better start at the beginning, which was Thursday afternoon, when my brother declared that he was bored.   For me, even if there's nothing to do there's usually something to think about, but I'm a creative person and I can entertain myself pretty well.   Michael gets bored easily.

I happened to be bored too, because there really wasn't much going on around the house, and the only thing I could think about was how much I missed Sini.   I didn't even have Skyla and Pax around to keep me busy.  Rommie and Dylan decided to take all the kids to the library, so   Michael and I were just hanging out in the back yard.

When I told Michael I was also bored, he suggested that we should try to think of something to do.  When he says that, he usually means that he wants me to think of something for us to do.

"If I could think of something to do, don't you think I'd already be doing it?" I said.

"Not if it was a thing that required two people," Michael said.  "Come on.  Let's brainstorm."

"With you, it's not so much a brainstorm as a brainshower."

"Shut up."

"I can't shut up and brainstorm at the same time, dimwit."

"Okay, fine," Michael grumbled.  "Smartass."

"Better a smartass than a dumbass," I said, and earned myself a solid punch in the shoulder from my twin.
 
We tossed out suggestions for a while, but none of them seem worth doing. At last I said,"We could have a climbing contest."

I have no clue what made me think of that.   I love to climb and so does Michael but, in retrospect, the notion of two twenty-three year old men having a climbing contest is so juvenile that it's embarrassing.   Of course, it seemed like a good idea to me at the time.

Michael didn't seem keen on it, and said it was lame, but the idea that he disliked it only made me like it more.  A little cajoling from me eventually got him into the spirit of the thing.  We started with something relatively easy.  I went first.

"Come on," I said.  "Give me your hand.  If you can't make it up here on your own, I'll help you."

"I don't need your help," Michael said. "I can do it just fine."

"Okay, prove it," I said.

Michael can never resist a challenge.  "Here, take your cane," he said.  "I'll be up there in two seconds."

I'm not sure why he thought I'd need my cane just then.  I certainly wouldn't want to try to carry it while climbing, and I could rely on Michael to make sure I didn't trip on anything in the yard, but I took it anyway.   Michael joined me several seconds later.

While we were trying to figure out what else to climb, Michael decided to try his hand at some acrobatic maneuvers.  I realized he was hanging upside down from the edge of the deck when I heard his voice coming from somewhere below my dangling feet.

"Do this if you can!"  

"Big deal," I said. "I can do that, no problem."

At that point, we declared the contest to be tied at two points apiece, and climbed back onto the deck.

"So, what's next?" I said.

"I'm going to climb to the top of the fence between our yard and the neighbour's place," Michael decided. "I'll let you know when I get to the top."

"Okay."

Michael knows I'm a great judge of distance, so there was no way he could cheat.  Sure enough, when he got to the top of the fence, he called out to me.  I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was up pretty high.

"Top that!" Michael shouted.

So, I did.  I climbed onto the roof of the garden shed. 

Michael climbed a tree.

I climbed the same tree, and that was the beginning of my undoing.

"Make room for me," I said.  "I'm coming up."

Now, it's not as if Michael and I have never climbed the same tree before.  As a matter of fact, we've both climbed this particular tree, and we've even both climbed it at the same time.   The new part of the experience on Thursday was for both of us to risk being on the same branch at the same time.   Much to our relief, we found that it's sturdy enough to support our combined weight. 

Once I was up there and knew how strong the branch was, I had an idea.  If I could hang upside down by my knees from the edge of the deck, I could do it on the branch as well.  The advantage of not being able to see how far I am from the ground is that I'm not afraid of heights and I don't get that sensation of vertigo some people say they experience when they're upside down.   Michael might have the courage to hang by his knees from the deck, I thought, but he'd never hang from a tree branch.   Full points to me in the game of one-upmanship?  Hell yeah.

I went out farther on the branch and swung down so that I was hanging by my knees.   It was less difficult than I'd expected, and I was rather proud of myself.  

Apparently feeling confident in my ability to defy the laws of physics, my obviously testosterone-flooded brain told me that if it was cool to hang by both knees, it'd be super cool to try hanging by just one.

I don't need to tell you that was the worst possible stunt I could've pulled.  Guys, let me just state for the record that machismo isn't always a good thing.  Pride goeth before a fall, and all that.

And if you want to know what it feels like to fall head-first from at least five times your own height, it's damned scary.  You know how they say when a person thinks he's about to die, his whole life flashes before his eyes?  It really does, even if the person is blind.   My mind's eye give me a speeded-up recap of my life -  all twenty-three short years of it - and I wished with all my might that I'd done something in those twenty-three years that people would remember me for in a positive way.  Instead, they were going to be saying stuff like, "Poor, dumb Tyler Brightman...I remember him.  He died falling out of a tree."

And then I hit the ground.

And I wasn't dead.

Fast on the heels of that revelation, my body registered pain.  I let out a yell that the neighbours all over the block probably heard. 

From far above me, Michael was hollering frantically, "Tyler!  Are you dead?  Don't move!  I'm coming right down!"

"I'm...not dead," I somehow managed to say, but I'm pretty certain Michael didn't hear me.

 

 Michael must have scrambled down the tree in record time because he was at my side in seconds.  Judging by his voice, he was nearly crying as he asked me over and over if I was okay.   Miraculously, I hadn't hit my head and, aside from having the wind knocked out of me, everything except my left arm seemed fine.  When I assured Michael that I could move everything except my left arm, he calmed down a little.  He helped me sit up against the trunk of the tree.  

"What should we do?" he said.  

I think I was too stunned and in too much pain to show any incredulity at him asking me what we should do.  I was the one who'd just fallen a good ten meters from a tree and busted my arm.  I should've been asking him what to do

"We need help, Michael," I said.

 

"You know, Sapphire's going to kill you," Michael said, rather unhelpfully.

"Who's home?" I asked, and realized with horror that my voice trembled when I spoke.   I was literally shaking all over, and the pain in my arm was so bad that I thought I was going to pass out from it, so I guess I shouldn't have been shocked that my voice was less than steady.  "Besides us, I mean."

"Xander," Michael said.  "Beau and Hunter, I think."

"Get Beau," I said.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know if I can get up, and I'm pretty sure you can't lift me by yourself."

"I thought you said you just hurt your arm."

"I did, but it...it's really bad.  If I try to get up, I might fall down again."

'Okay," Michael said.  "I'll get Beau, but...I can't just leave you here, can I?"

"If you can't leave me, how are you going to get Beau?   Just hurry, okay?"

"Okay," he said.

"Go."

I heard him running across the yard, already yelling for Beau to come out of the house.  A few minutes later, the back door slammed and then two sets of footfalls were coming back toward me.

Michael practically threw himself onto the grass beside me and grabbed me by my non-injured hand.  He sounded like he was gasping for air as he demanded, "Tyler, are you still okay?"

"Other than the obvious, yeah," I said.

I sensed Beau kneeling or sitting at my other side.   Fortunately, Beau is calm under pressure.  He said, "Tyler, can you move your fingers?"

"A little, but it hurts," I told him. 

"Can you move your elbow?"

"Yeah."

He was silent for a while, which was evidently too much for Michael to bear.  My brother said, "Well? Why are you staring at his arm like that?"

"I hate to tell y'all, but that arm's broken," Beau said.  "I can tell just by lookin' at it."

"I think I felt it snap," I said.

"You would," said Beau.  "I broke my wrist once.  Got thrown by this crazy mare my uncle warned me not to ride.  I felt my wrist snap.  Might've heard it too, though that could've been my imagination."

At the mention of horses, I couldn't suppress a groan of frustration.  "Oh...Guardian.  How am I supposed to look after him with a broken arm?"

"Don't you worry about that," Beau said.  "Me and Michael can handle it."

"Hey!" Michael exclaimed.

"Army volunteer," Beau said.  He gave my knee a brotherly pat. "Come on.  Let's see if we can get you up and into the house.  You're gonna need a doctor for sure, but we gotta put some ice on your arm right away, and we'd better call Sapphire."

"Do we have to call Sapphire?" I said.  "Can't you guys just take me to the ER?"

"She's gonna find out eventually, y'know," Beau said.

"I know, but can't she find out about it after I get it taken care of?"

I guess they didn't want to argue with me, because nobody called Sapphire.  I know, that was beyond irresponsible of us, but we were having an irresponsible kind of day.

Beau decided that he'd go with me to the hospital and that Michael should stay home and wait for Rommie, Dylan and the kids to get back from the library and for Sapphire to come home from wherever she was.  This, of course, effectively left it up to Michael to explain to everyone what had happened to me.  

Beau and I waited in the hospital's emergency department for what seemed like several hours before my number was called and a nurse came to escort me to a room where my arm could be X-rayed.    After the X-ray, the nurse directed us to another room where we were supposed to wait for the doctor.

The doctor was grim when he delivered the news that both bones in my forearm were broken and that I'd need surgery to fix them.  Long story short, he admitted me to the hospital then and there, and I was informed that I'd be put on a list for surgery.

Once I was settled in my room, I told Beau that he might as well go home.   Someone needed to update everybody about what was going on.   Beau hadn't even been gone half an hour before Sapphire showed up.   She did not, as Michael predicted, threaten to kill me.  I kind of wished that she had done, though.  The way she fussed over me was far worse than any scolding could have been.

Of course, the scolding will doubtless be forthcoming, once I'm feeling better.

Anyway, now that I'm back at home, I hope things will soon settle into a routine that passes for normal.   When I first got home, Skyla seemed confused about why I'd been gone and why I can't play with her and carry her around like I did before.  I think she was a little scared of my cast at first, but now she's over it and seems to understand that it means I can't do everything I used to.   Fortunately, everyone's great about helping to look after Skyla and Pax. 

This is usually the point at which I tell you all about the lesson I've learned from my experience.  Maybe an appropriate moral to this story would be, don't do dumb stunts that might get you killed.  Or maybe it should be, if you're going to do dumb stunts that could get you killed, be prepared for the consequences if you don't actually kill yourself.   Yeah...I don't know.   I'm sure there is a valid lesson in all this, and when I decipher what it is, I'll fill you in.

This has turned into a longer post than I'd anticipated.  I'm getting tired, so I think I'll stop for now.

Oh...wait.  Just one more thing.   There is a silver lining.   Because I'm 'convalescing' - doesn't that make me sound like I'm recovering from some deadly illness? - I'm allowed to have all the treats I want, and I'm allowed to eat them in bed.

 

Catch you guys later!

Happy Birthday, Canada!

Happy Canada Day!

This is going to be a short post.  I just wanted to wish everyone a happy holiday and give you all a quick update about what we've been doing.   Sini is still away, but I've heard from her and she's doing fine.  She says she's having a good time but she misses me and Skyla, and she says she'll be happy to be home again.

Meanwhile, Skyla and I came with Sapphire to spend the Canada Day long weekend at her parents' house.  We took the ferry to the mainland on Saturday.  It was Skyla's first ferry ride, and she loved it.  I think Skyla is going to grow up to be a traveller like me.

On the ferry, we went out on deck and Skyla got really excited when she saw some seagulls.  She kept shouting, "Bird!  Bird!"  Sapphire told her what kind of birds they were, although I suspect she identified them more for my benefit than for Skyla's.   I think Skyla was just happy to see some birds and know how to tell everyone what she saw.  Mostly, I don't wish for sight, but on Saturday morning I would've given a lot to be able to see the expression on my little girl's face and to watch her jumping up and down. 

It rained on Saturday afternoon and almost all day on Sunday as well, so it hasn't been a particularly good weekend for hiking, climbing, going to the beach or playing outside.  We spent some time visiting Sapphire's grandmother, and there was a community sing-along on Sunday night, but mostly we just hung around inside and tried to keep from getting too bored.

The weather was better today.  This morning, there was a huge community breakfast to start off the Canada Day celebrations.  It was very noisy and busy at the community centre, but the food was awesome!  After breakfast, there were games for children at the sports field next to the community centre.    Sapphire's parents did a big barbecue in the afternoon, and that was really great.  My favourite part of that was the watermelon.  As far as I'm concerned, no Canada Day barbecue would be complete without the watermelon.

 

Late in the afternoon, we all went into town for the parade.  There were street vendors selling souvenirs, t-shirts and flags and of course there were the ubiquitous hotdog stands and people selling popcorn, french fries and cotton candy.   Sapphire shared her fries with me because I didn't think it'd be wise for me to try eating an entire serving of them on my own.  Skyla had some cotton candy which she judged to be "Yummy!"   Sini would probably be annoyed with me for letting Skyla have all that sugar, but this is a special occasion.  Canada Day only happens once a year.   Of course, it's nearly midnight and Skyla is still up, so I may come to regret my lenient parenting.  

I'm sorry that I can't really tell you much about the parade.  Sapphire did her best to describe things to me, but I had a hard time coming up with mental images of most of it.   I enjoyed the pipe and drum music.  A lot of the floats had music playing on them too, so I was able to hear some of the parade.   Skyla's favourite part of the parade was the horses.   She squealed and clapped every time she saw one and called out, "Hi, horsie!"   Not only does my child love adventure, but she also seems to be horse crazy.  Apparently, the apple hasn't fallen far from the tree.

After the parade, there was a free concert.  That was my favourite part of the day's activities.  We all went to listen.  I thought Skyla would get restless and that I'd end up having to leave with her halfway through, but she was remarkably good.  She likes music, and I think she was fascinated by all the people and all the different sights and sounds around her.  She sat on my lap for most of the show, and only fussed once or twice.  Dave Carroll was the performer I liked best, but I also really enjoyed Valdy's performance.  Jon Vezner and Kim Dunn were also there.   Kim Dunn's song "Life's Looking Back" has become one of my new favourites.  It makes me think of Skyla.

When it got dark and the concert was over, there was a fireworks display.   I'm not a fan of fireworks, but I went anyway.  As it turns out, Skyla loves fireworks.  I thought the noise would bother her, but she didn't seem concerned by it at all.   In that respect, my daughter and I differ greatly.   Of course, history has a lot to do with that, I think. 

My earliest memory of fireworks is from when Michael and I were about six years old.   We went with our parents and maternal grandfather to the Canada Day celebration in the nearest town to where we lived.  The parade and the games were fun for Michael,  but there were a lot of things I couldn't participate in and, for me, it'd just been a long and tiring day.  By the time night came and we were all situated on a huge blanket in the middle of a field with hundreds of other people all doing the same, I was feeling exhausted and cranky and just wanted to go home.   When the fireworks started, everyone was ooh-ing and ahh-ing at what they saw, but the only thing I experienced was a series of deafening booms and a faint smell of smoke in the air.

I guess I don't need to tell you that I was scared.  I remember crying hysterically, and I remember my grandfather saying to my mother, "Julia, people are staring.  Can't you make him stop?"

Instead of focusing her full attention on comforting me, my mother somehow made the situation all about my grandfather.  "Tyler, darling, the fireworks aren't going to hurt you.  Will  you please stop crying?  You're embarrassing Grandpa."

Thanks, Mum.  Way to handle your terrified six year old.

I heard my father speaking to my grandfather in an exasperated tone, "For God's sake, Mike, can't you see how scared he is?  He's a little kid and he doesn't know what's going on."  Then, Dad's big hand was on my shoulder and he was saying, "Here, Tyler.  Come to me."

I didn't need much encouragement to leave my mother's side and go to my father.  I'm sure I must've flung myself into his arms.  I always felt safer with Dad than with Mum for some reason, and that night was certainly no exception.

"You really ought to make him sit still and stop bawling," my grandfather said.  "Michael isn't carrying on like that.  There's no reason why this one should be."

"Michael can see what's happening," said my father. "Tyler can't.  Just try to imagine what it's like for him."   

"Why would I want to do that?" My grandfather said.  "I'm telling you, James, if you keep coddling that boy he's going to grow up soft."

I don't think my maternal grandfather ever referred to me by my name.  He never even called me by name when he was actually addressing me.  I was always 'boy' or 'that one', as if he didn't consider me worthy of  a name.    When I think back on it, I can't help wondering what he really thought of me.  I suppose it doesn't really matter now.  I'm just thankful it never occurred to me to ask that question when I was a child.

"You raised your kids your way," my father said firmly. "I'm going to raise my kids my way."

I recall my grandfather grumbling in response to that, but I don't remember what he said.   I was just glad to be held by someone who understood how upset and confused I was by the noise.  My father stroked my hair and told me that it was okay to be afraid, but that the fireworks really wouldn't harm me.  They were very pretty, he said, and looked like flowers, stars, and rocket ships shooting into outer space.  He said they were white, green, orange and red and they looked very bright against the black sky. 

I wailed, "But, why are they so loud, Daddy?"

When he told me they made loud noises because they were exploding, I think I became more panicked than I'd been before.  I pressed my head against my father's chest and begged to go home.   He told me to be brave, and that we'd go home when it was over.   I don't think I was very brave, but my father didn't make any further comment on it.

When it was finally over, Dad carried me all the way back to the car.  Michael was whining because no one was carrying him, but Grandpa told him to behave himself.  I'm not sure, but I think Grandpa did the driving on the way home.  Dad sat in the back seat with Michael and me, and he held me on his lap the whole time.   Looking back on it as an adult, I realize that probably wasn't the safest thing he could've done, but his nearness was what I needed at the time and I'm sure he knew that.    Leaning against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and breathing in the scent that's distinctly him - horses and earth and lavender soap - I let myself settle down.   By the time we got home and my father tucked me into bed, I was perfectly calm again.

My parents never took me to another fireworks display after that.  In fact, I never went to another one on my own, either.  Not until last year on Canada Day, that is.   And that, to my eternal embarrassment, was when I realized I'm still afraid of them.

Last year, Sini wanted to see the Canada Day fireworks.   She arrived after Canada Day in the first year she'd been with us, so she didn't even know about the holiday then.  The year after that, she'd been pregnant with Skyla and was too sick to leave the house, much less go out and subject herself to mosquitos, loud noises and an uncomfortable seat on the damp grass.   Last year, though, she was determined to celebrate the holiday to its fullest extent, and she wanted me to celebrate it with her.

I protested that I didn't want to go.  I told Sini that I don't like loud noises, and besides, I didn't see the point of attending an event that's largely visual, but Sini said I had to come because it was her first time seeing fireworks and she wanted to share the experience with me.   So, reluctantly, I agreed that we'd leave Skyla with Rommie while we went off to witness the grand finale of our local Canada Day events.

I was totally unprepared for my reaction.  With the first boom, I felt my heart rate speed up and I started to shake.  In an instant, my brain abandoned the knowledge that I was a grown man and insisted that I was once again that terrified little six year old boy.   The feeling only got worse when I reached out and realized that Sini and I had somehow moved more than arm's length from each other.   I didn't know where she was and, for one horrible moment, I didn't know where I was.   That was the point at which I acknowledged that my panic was rapidly expanding beyond my control.

When I called Sini's name, she was there in a second.  She pulled me in close and I buried my face in her hair.   "I want to go home," I said.

"Why?" she asked, even though she must've known perfectly well how frightened I was.

"Because I don't like the noise," I told her.

"It is only noise," she said.  "It cannot hurt you.  The fireworks are very beautiful.  The last one looked like an orange chrysanthemum." 

"Really?" I said, intrigued despite my fear.  Long ago, my father had described them as looking like flowers, too.  "Are there...stars?  And rocket ships?

"Every time there is a noise, a new shape comes.  The ones that make a whistling sound look like comets.  Some of them look like snowflakes or stars."  There was another thunderous noise and Sini exclaimed delightedly, "A supernova!"  

"What?" I said.

"I must find out how this works," she said.  "It is truly fascinating."

"You find this fascinating?"

"It is science," she said, moving her hand in a slow, calming, circular motion over my back as she spoke. "Science can be explained.  We should not fear what we can explain.  If we do not fear it, we must form other emotions about it.  I think it is fascinating."

That gave me something to think about, but I was still upset, and Sini ended up holding me pretty much the whole time.  

The next day, Sini started researching fireworks on the internet.  She insisted that I 'help' her do this research.  My role consisted mainly of sitting beside her and listening while she read articles to me that she found online.   She even found a documentary about how fireworks are made.   Eventually, I got very bored by all the details, but I had to admit Sini was right; the more I learned about fireworks, the less scary they seemed.   I still don't like them, but I'm proud to say that, this year, I only flinched each time I heard a bang.  The impulse to run and hide wasn't there.   Maybe next year, I'll be able to sit through the whole thing and only be startled once or twice.

Who knows?  Anything's possible, right?