Promises Pt. 03

The nude gardening explains her beautiful, all-over tan. "It's kind of neat," I say, "the sense of liberation you get when you wear only what nature intended, isn't it?"

"Hmm, that sounds like the voice of experience to me."

"Uh, yeah. I hardly ever wear clothes at home. It's just easier not to have to screw with getting dressed, and I spend a lot less time doing laundry."

She smiles up at me. "But is that safe in your line of work? You could slip and, well, slice something you might need."

"When I'm working in the shop, I wear an oversized leather apron and steel toed boots."

She smiles. "Now that is a fascinating mental picture."

"Kira," I say, getting a little more serious now, "I don't understand how you could have put up with Angelo's crap."

"I guess it's kind of like putting a frog into a pot of water," she says. "Turn the heat up a little at a time, and the frog will stay in until it's cooked."

"You do know that's an urban legend, right?"

"Of course it is. The little guy is gonna jump out when he gets uncomfortable, but I was so socially inexperienced and felt so isolated that the idea of leaving Angelo was a leap too far. That is until I met you. That totally changed my life."

"Really? How so?"

"Do you remember just how frightened I was when you ran up to me and demanded my phone?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that. I thought I'd about scared you to death."

"You nearly did, but it wasn't just your imposing appearance. See, it was highly unusual for me to be outside like that anyway, but the paper had come too late that morning for Angelo to snag it before he left for work. I knew he'd call if I opened the front door, but I hadn't left the house in weeks, and getting the paper seemed like a reasonable excuse to do so. It was all I could do to work up the courage to go out the door, so when you surprised me, I thought the worst. But then..."

She looks to be deep in contemplation, so I give her some time.

"But then what?" I finally ask.

"I guess it was that look you gave me when you realized you'd scared me. It was like I could see straight into your soul. I knew right then that you were the kind of man that would never, ever hurt me. Don't ask me how, but I knew. It changed everything."

Kira is still and quiet for a while. I can tell that she's still trying to make sense of whatever it is, so I stay silent until she speaks again.

"It sounds totally crazy, but it was like my life flashed before my eyes. I didn't like what I saw, so I asked myself, 'what would Maya Windrider do in this situation?' Somehow, with you, I had the courage to not just imagine it, but to try it. So I just wrote the scene in my head as if Maya were the one talking to you, then went with it. Yanking your chain like that was so Maya. It scared the shit out of me that I could actually do that, but it was totally empowering."

"So when we met, I was actually dealing with the main character from your books?"

"Yeah, and to an extent, you still are."

"Having spent some quality time with Maya, I'd have to say you handled that situation exactly like she would have."

"Good, that was what I was shooting for, and I was totally stoked when I figured I'd actually pulled it off. That success got me to thinking about what Maya would do if she found herself married to Angelo. Frankly, I couldn't even imagine her putting up with his shit. An hour after meeting you, I'd already decided to leave him."

"Wow. That was quick."

"Oh, I'd known subconsciously that I needed to go. It was just becoming Kira that made it real. As soon as I'd made the decision, I started packing a couple of suitcases. I figured that Angelo might get vindictive and destroy everything of mine that he could get his hands on, so I took everything I couldn't live without."

"So it's not all clothes in your suitcases?"

"No. All of the clothes I intend to wear this week are in my carry-on. My larger bags are full of legal papers, mementos, pictures, all that stuff."

"So you brought everything that's important to you to Mexico?"

She shrugs. "I've mostly lost contact with the few friends I used to have, and I had nowhere else to go, so I brought the suitcases with me. I raided Angelo's supposedly secret stash of cash and left him a note saying I would be divorcing him, then caught a taxi to a motel. I was planning to stay there for a week or two, but then you called the next morning. I knew Angelo would be furious at me, so getting out of the country seemed like a good idea."

"You're only here until Sunday though. What are you going to do when you get back?"

"Well, the first thing is to get access to my funds. Angelo's been putting my royalty payments in an account he supposedly set aside for me. He didn't give me a checkbook or debit card for it though. Then, on Friday, when I tried to pull some cash out for the first time, I found that he'd set it up with a pin number that I don't know."

"Nice."

"Yeah. So I called my dad's old attorney. He's having the account frozen so that Angelo can't touch it either. When I get back, we're going to file divorce papers and have the courts give me exclusive access to my account. It should be more than enough to pay for my legal fees. I know it's going to be ugly for a while, but I'll get through it."

"I'd like to help you in any way I can," I offer.

She smiles. "Careful, or I might take you up on that, but for now I've done way too much talking about me and you've had to hear way too much about my problems. I want to hear about you."

I've never been upfront with women about my condition. Like with Destinee, I always do my best to hide my disability, but Kira has just bared her soul and told me some deeply personal stuff. While I don't intuitively understand a lot of human concepts, I get fairness in a big way. It obliges me to do the same.

"Kira," I say slowly, "there are some things that make me quite different from anyone you've probably ever met. There's a lot to unpack, so would you mind if I started at the beginning too?"

She looks a bit concerned. "I suppose that would only be fair."

I take a deep breath. Yeah, I'm gonna do this.

"Back when I started school," I begin, "my teachers couldn't help but notice that I wasn't relating well to my classmates, even after I became fluent in English. I showed no interest in talking with them, sitting with them at lunch, or playing with them at recess. I would read my textbooks and take the tests put in front of me, but I was usually off in my own little world, all by myself.

"Of course my mom had suspected that there was something wrong with me, but she'd hoped I'd just grow out of it. She couldn't ignore what my teachers were saying, though, so she scraped up enough money to try and get me some help.

"The therapist who saw me ran me through a bunch of tests. He told my mom that my IQ was insanely high, but said I was almost completely unable to read other's expressions, moods, or nuances of speech. At first his diagnosis was Asperger's, but then he realized that a lot of my symptoms didn't fit any of the Autism Spectrum disorders. In the end, he just referred to my issues as 'Peter's Syndrome.'"

"Do you suppose it had anything to do with your Mom's radiation exposure?"

"Good question. The therapist didn't think so, but I was at just a few weeks gestation when my mom was exposed. I looked into it a few years ago myself, but there's not a whole lot of cases in the literature. I don't think there's enough known about how radiation affects early development to say either way.

"In any event, over the course of our visits to his office, the therapist tried the usual treatments, but I couldn't be bothered to pay more than cursory attention to what he was attempting to do. We were making no progress at all, and he called it off after five sessions. He felt he couldn't help me, and I didn't want his help.

"I went along like that all the way through grade school, being a willing outcast. I about drove my teachers crazy, always sketching mechanical devices in my notebook while I was supposed to be paying attention to their lectures. On the other hand, I had a nearly photographic memory for what I read in the textbooks and I got good enough grades that they didn't have an excuse to put me in the Special Ed program."

"I can only imagine that you would have been a target of bullies," Kira says.

"Odd thing, that. There were guys who would try to push me around, but they found out quickly that I wasn't afraid of them. If someone hit me or shoved me, I just did the same thing right back to them, even if they were twice my size and it got me beat up. Bullies don't expect physical resistance, especially if they're bigger and stronger, and mine invariably moved on to easier targets.

"The teasing was a more persistent problem since I didn't have the tools necessary to hit back. Even though I didn't particularly care about the opinions of my classmates, their constant taunting really hurt. Eventually, though, when I wouldn't even acknowledge that I'd heard them, they almost invariably gave up out of boredom.

"Things started to change when I got to high school, though. I'd been growing unusually fast from about the time I turned twelve, and I was easily the tallest person in my freshman class. Everyone called me 'beanpole' and stuff like that because I was so gawky, but then, during the first half of my sophomore year, I took a weightlifting class as an elective. I discovered that I was a natural, making rapid progress with each session. I really enjoyed pushing myself to the limit.

"When the semester was over, I still went to the gym every day. I was putting on a lot of muscle, even without ever using steroids. I also started training in martial arts at the dojo next to my apartment building, getting free lessons in return for doing janitorial duties. My sensei was the first instructor I'd ever really paid attention to, and I became a lot surer of myself physically.

"Near the end of that school year, a couple of seniors from the football team picked a fight with me and I bloodied the two of them. Luckily, the vice principal witnessed the whole thing and I didn't get in any trouble. No one teased me after that, and people made way for me when I walked down the halls.

"It was a total revelation for me. I was suddenly getting respect, just for the fact that I was really strong and had learned how to handle myself in a fight. That got me to thinking; if I could change myself on the outside, maybe I could change myself on the inside too.

"I started reading self-help books and everything I could find about Autism and Asperger's, since they're at least similar to what I have. I began to push myself to speak with everyone I came across. I'm not immune to shame and embarrassment, so it was excruciatingly painful at times. I freaked out a lot of people at first until I figured out the basics, but then, little by little, I learned how to interpret even the smallest body language and verbal cues. In a lot of ways, because I'm hyperconscious about it, I can actually pick up on stuff that normal people miss."

Kira suddenly disengages and begins to slide away from me. I realize that I've probably blown it. I've miscalculated again, thinking that she would somehow understand. I wonder if there's a way to salvage the situation.

But Kira doesn't leave. Instead, she scoots down near my knees, then pulls herself up onto my thighs and turns back toward me, drawing herself into a cross-legged position, facing me. "Sorry," she says, her voice still mildly friendly, "I wanted to be able to see your face while we talked. Tell me, Peter, are you doing that thing with me right now?"

That's a truly interesting question, because for the first time in my life, I'm not sure.

"Kira," I say, "there's something about you that has always put me at ease, right from when we met. Yes, I'm still thinking about what I'm doing and saying, but it's so much easier than it's ever been with anyone else I've met. There's something about you that allows me to be way more like myself. With you, I don't have the anxiety that makes my dealings with people so much more difficult. The only other time I've had that experience was..."

Belatedly, I realize it would have been smarter to have kept my mouth shut about that last bit. Kira can evidently see my discomfort. "What is it, Peter?"

I'm not about to try and lie my way out of this, not with her. I take a deep breath before speaking. "Kira, even though we haven't been a couple, I feel bad about this." I go ahead and tell her about my day with Anna.

I didn't feel guilty about it the night before, but the wounded expression on Kira's face makes me feel like a real jerk now. "I'm so sorry," I say when I finish. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

She shakes her head. "No, I have no right to be upset with you. We agreed to do separate vacations. Sure, we enjoy each other's company and we like to share a bed, but that doesn't mean we're beholden to each other."

Part of me wants us to be beholden, but I'm not going to say so. She's got a lot going on in her life right now.

"I appreciate your understanding," I say, "but I won't do that again."

Part of me expects her to reiterate that I don't have to base my relations with other women on her feelings, since we're not a couple, but she doesn't. I'm not sure how I feel about that, because as much as I love being with Kira, I also really enjoyed being with Anna.

"Thank you, Peter," she says. "I admire you for the work you've put in, trying so hard to fit in. You really do a good job of it, from my perspective. I wouldn't have suspected your condition."

Her praise makes me feel warm inside. "It's a life-long project for me, trying to become normal."

She pauses for a long moment. "So do you think you'll ever get to the point where you'll consider yourself 'normal'?"

Tough question. "Well, I'm still pushing myself hard to increase my skills. It's not comfortable, always going out of my way to talk to new people and putting myself in places where I feel like I'll never fit in, but it's all part of the process of my becoming the man I want to be."

"And what kind of man is that exactly?"

"Well, I want to be able to walk into any kind of social situation with confidence, even ones where I wouldn't normally want to be, and not leave any detectable trace that it isn't perfectly comfortable for me."

"Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why spend the rest of your life being anxious and uncomfortable just to prove to others that you're not anxious and uncomfortable?"

"Well..." That was an interesting way to put it.

"Peter, I'm really impressed with what you've accomplished. I wish I'd had a quarter of your drive and determination, but doesn't there come a point when pushing yourself is doing more harm than good? There are lots of people who are shy and introverted but are comfortable in their own skins. I should know, I'm one of them."

"So you think I've crossed the line into obsession?"

"Only you can say, but I'm wondering whether you know there really is a line."

For the first time ever, Kira is starting to irritate me. Doesn't she realize how important this is to me? "So after knowing me for just a couple of days, you feel qualified to psychoanalyze me?"

I can see that my words sting, but she doesn't back down.

"Peter, you've been exceptionally brave by facing your fears about the world around you. Can you trust me enough to take a good hard look at something you may be fearing on the inside?"

What I want to do is to tell her where she can stick her criticisms. I actually open my mouth to do so, but then I revert to what I've trained myself to do. Would saying that to her be smart? Am I so sure of myself that I can say something hurtful to her? Looking at it dispassionately, I know she's trying to help me.

Finally, I decide that what I want is to get away. I need to cool off and take some time to think about what she's said. And, logically, there is no downside to being courteous about it.

"Look, Kira, you bring up some good points, and I'm going to consider them, but for the moment I think I need to be by myself for a while."

She's looking at me curiously. "You're doing it right now, aren't you?"

"Doing what?"

"You're thoroughly analyzing all the data before forming your responses. You say you do that with everyone else but me, and now I think I can see the difference."

This is becoming increasingly difficult, like when Destinee confronted me. It helps that Kira's not yelling, but the feeling that I'm trapped and suffocating is getting stronger by the second. I need to leave now.

"Sorry, Kira. I have to go." I gently lift her off my thighs, sitting her down on the bed. I scoot away from her and get to my feet.

"I think we should talk this out, Peter."

But I've already grabbed my laptop and I'm heading for the door. "I'll catch you later," I say.

"Peter?" The door closes behind me. My chest feels so tight that I can barely breathe.

In the café there's Wi-Fi and a quiet corner with a nice view of the ocean. I take a few deep breaths, then begin to check my messages. There are a quite a few of them, and when I think about the kinds of things I'm going to have to do in response, I nearly get the willies. I'd resigned myself to it earlier, but now I'm starting to question my decisions.

This is going to take lots more thought.

* * * * *

At three minutes after seven, I'm standing outside the door of the Águila y Sol with a huge bouquet of flowers in my arms. Kira sees me as soon as I see her, but doesn't break stride.

I've never seen her dressed to the nines before and it's a breathtaking sight. She's just come around the corner in a strapless, blood-red dress that fits her like a glove. It's perfect on her. I'm glad that she'd decided she couldn't live without it.

Her makeup is amazing. The little girl is gone, and her beautiful face is showing its true womanhood. Her long brown hair is radiant and she's inches taller than usual, due to some improbably high heels.

Suddenly, I realize that her stunning appearance has diverted me from noticing who she's walking with. It's Anna of all people. Seeing her with Kira is totally incongruous, especially since I hadn't described Anna to Kira, much less mentioned her identity. Then, even stranger, the rest of the South Carolina contingent comes around the corner behind them.

Anna is staring at me with questioning eyes. She obviously wasn't expecting to see me here. Then she looks at the flowers. I can tell that, just for an instant, she thinks they're for her. My gaze is right back on Kira, though. For once, I'm having a difficult time reading her expression. I'd hoped for relieved joy, I'd feared disgusted annoyance, but I just can't tell what she's thinking. On the positive side of the ledger, though, is the fact that she's arrived at the right place and time for what she'd called our "date."

"Hi Peter," Anna says hesitantly. I glance at her for a moment and return her greeting.

Confusion flashes across Kira's face, but then the unreadable expression is back. "Hi Kira," I say. Now the quick flash of confusion is on Anna's face. Evidently neither of them was aware that the other knew me.

"Hello Peter," Kira says in a very neutral voice. "Nice flowers. Are they for me?"

"Yes."

"Please hand them to Anna." I'm not sure what she's implying by that, but I comply. Anna is looking as confused as I am.