The Rarest Treasure

"Wow! You like reading James Bond that much?"

"I LOVE James Bond! Especially the early books... you know, when he faces SMERSH in the fifties."

"Sorry, I wouldn't know... to me, James Bond is Sean Connery; From Russia with Love and Goldfinger are my favorite movies... are they close to the books?"

Zooey seemed ready to allocute a complete critique, only to change her mind at the last second. "Pretty much, actually... but in appearance and demeanor, Timothy Dalton would be a closer match..."

"Really? I'll keep that in mind..."

"Well, I could just DIE in the arms of the new actor playing the part... have you SEEN the way he looks after he does his laps in Skyfall?"

Zooey's eyes rolled up in her sockets. This was obviously an old tirade between them. "Yes, mom, Daniel Craig is a GREAT James Bond..."

And, from that moment, the afternoon whizzed by, under a torrent of trivia and lively banter. If not for the fact that they were in a hospital room in April, Lawrence could have mistaken the atmosphere for the gossiping at a Christmas family dinner.

Real life eventually knocked at the door, in the form of an orderly bringing in Zooey's supper.

While Zooey was eyeing her upcoming meal with an almost comical absence of enthusiasm, Lawrence and Ailin were both preparing themselves to leave the room.

Zooey's plea was pitiful. "Pleaaase Larry... don't leave me all alone with this grub... let's go to the Hilton and order food service and some Rey del Mundos... I beg youuuuu. Take me away..."

"Now, now, Zooey... I believe we ought to cast Mister Linney back to the water, to quote you. I'll come and see you before bedtime to make sure you haven't forgotten your medication and your exercises."

Lawrence knew exactly how she felt - defeated. Zooey lowered her head and replied mournfully. "Of course, mother." She raised her head and looked at him straight in the eyes. "It was great meeting you, Larry... will you come by later... or tomorrow, maybe?"

There was something in the tone of her request that completely annihilated Lawrence's calm assurance. He turned into a bundle of nerves and almost began to stutter.

"S... Sure I could... if that would please you, of course..."

A smile returned to Zooey's beautiful face. She was obviously pleased by the effect she had on her hero. "I asked, didn't I?"

Lawrence felt ridiculous, not knowing if he should just wave goodbye, shake her hand or kiss her cheek. Both Zooey and Ailin seemed amused. But then, he realized he was about to leave with her novel in hand.

"Oh, silly me! Look, I'll put the book right here beside your... huh..." Lawrence had opened Zooey's nightstand, to put the book away; Zooey's eyes had opened wide in stupor; Ailin was stunned. All the while, Lawrence was staring at a box of Intimate Rose dilators and trying to make sense of this unexpected discovery. Time stood still.

Then, figuratively, all hell broke loose. Zooey's heart rate shot up, promptly bringing in the duty nurse. Lawrence, sensing a misdeed, quickly closed the nightstand, only to be stared down accusingly by the nurse.

"All right, you two... that's enough excitement for today. You should let the patient rest and come back tomorrow, OK?" The nurse's English was marred by a strong French accent but the imperative nature of her request would have been undeniable even to someone who only spoke Norwegian.

Both guests silently acquiesced and, while Ailin tucked in her daughter for the evening, Lawrence felt completely out of place and, panicked, simply walked out. He used the stairs and was relieved to make it to the visitors' exit without crossing paths with Zooey's mother.

Lawrence's walk home was nothing more than a slippery and blurred turmoil. Almost in a single motion, he closed his apartment door, hung his coat and sat down in front of his computer. He typed "Intimate Rose dilator" on his Internet search engine. He quickly found an image of the infamous box: it was the full set of eight vaginal dilators manufactured by the company.

Thirty minutes into his inquiry, Lawrence had read the brand's publicity and its guide on vaginal dilation. After having watched a video on the topic, he moved on to the second phase of this peculiar application of the scientific method: why would vaginal dilators distress Zooey so much. He considered the various medical conditions mentioned in the video he had just seen.

(Radiation therapy? Doubtful: she wouldn't have so much hair so soon, plus she looks young for a vaginal cancer survivor...)

(Vaginal cramping? Possible, but why would that kind of condition cause such a fuss?)

(Gender reassignment surgery? ...)

Lawrence felt the thrill that drives him, every time some piece of empirical data confirms a model prediction or validates a research postulate. He did not move from his chair and kept on searching, well into the night, for any interview, biographic note or online article that dwelled on Zooey Zephyr; he found out that she was born in Leknes, Norway, on February 7 1990; that she first appeared publicly right here in Gatineau, in 2013, at the Salon du Livre de l'Outaouais, for a signing session of her first successful book of children's tales; more importantly, he found an auspicious void of data between these two benchmarks.

As an afterthought, while his body was screaming for food and sleep, Lawrence quickly searched for Rey del Mundo. After two results he dismissed due to syntax errors on his part, he found the correct result and was flabbergasted by its implications.

(She smokes Cuban cigars? Oooookaaaay!)

His sleep was short, heavy and dreamless, owing to fatigue. In the morning, Lawrence ate his breakfast absent-mindedly. His true focus was on his next course of action, since the conclusions he had reached concerned a human being and not a thesis subject.

(I could do a callback on the security cell phone... but that would reach Ailin... no; I could call her hospital room... easy to dodge... no; all right, it's settled... let's go.)

Lawrence promptly enquired about the hospital visiting hours, got dressed and left his apartment under cloudy skies. He treated the improving weather as a good omen, and then laughed at himself for this sudden bout of superstition.

He was in front of Zooey's room in no time, having crossed neither medical personnel nor her mother on the way.

(Geez! I'm feeling dizzy! Good place to faint, I guess... OK Larry, you can do this!)

"Zooey?"

She looked neither surprised nor happy to see him. "Good morning, Larry."

"Good morning to you too." Lawrence could not discern any sign of encouragement or rejection in Zooey's blank stare. "Huh... look... huh... well... I'm happy to see you... to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure you would want to see me, after what happened during diner..."

"To tell you the truth, Larry, until you showed up, I wasn't too sure either..."

Lawrence felt like an invading barbarian; for the first time, he was feeling apprehension from Zooey.

"And now?"

Zooey let out a visible sigh. "Why are you here, Larry?"

"I wasn't sure you would take my call..." Lawrence was feeling worse by the second.

"Fair enough... so, here you are..." Zooey was visibly expecting something; something unpleasant.

"Well... OK... I've been thinking a lot about the... incident."

Another visible sigh from Zooey. "And now, you know..."

At least, Lawrence thought, the conversation was more or less going according to plan. "I THINK that I know... and I came here to tell you that, in fact, I will not ask or talk about it, so..."

Zooey was visibly surprised. "Whyyy?"

Lawrence was finally relaxing. "Because it's none of my business, obviously."

Zooey was staring at Lawrence intensely, as if both trying to read his mind and deliberating a capital decision which, in fact, she was; and she did not know how or what to respond, so she silently prodded Lawrence to go on.

"Well, that's that... I can go now, if you wish... or maybe I could stay and we could talk about James Bond some more... and, now that I think of it, I forgot to tell you I had an amazing time yesterday... I'm sorry for running away."

An awkward standoff of sorts ensued. Lawrence was incapable of sustaining her stare and was looking at Zooey's feet. And he was also grasping at any straw that would rekindle the previous day's cheerfulness.

"So... Cuban cigars, huh?"

He was rewarded by a sly smile of complicity from Zooey. With a quick swivel of the head, she invited him in. But Lawrence did not even twitch a muscle.

"What's wrong, Larry? Did you just change your mind?" Lawrence managed to look up: Zooey looked genuinely hurt.

"No, no! Sorry about that! It's just... I was marveling at the wave that your hair made... I thought scenes like that only existed on the screen."

For the first time since they met, Lawrence saw Zooey blush. "Lawrence Linney, you are fabulous for my ego! Here, is this better?"

This time, Zooey swung her hair for full effect. Lawrence lost his breath, mesmerized by the fluid grace of gold that he truly saw glide in slow and captivating motion.

"Wow... how do you do it... you're just so beautiful..."

"For a woman built from scratch?" Her smile waned.

"NOOO!!!" Caught up by his response, Lawrence checked around to ensure he hadn't just made a scene, and then he whispered with embarrassed guilt. "I mean it when I say you're a beautiful woman. Period. Besides, I told you I wouldn't talk about... that."

Zooey smiled again, in reassurance. "I believe you, Larry, don't fret. But, since the cat is out of the bag, we might as well have that conversation. Come in and close the door... we don't have much time."

He did as requested. "Not much time... why?"

"I requested my discharge this morning... this sort of thing takes a while but, eventually, a nurse will bring the paperwork, I will sign and I will be free, which in this case means in a cab and heading for my hotel room."

"Why are you refusing treatment?" Lawrence now noticed that there was no more medical monitor or IV in the room.

"I have lost more days of my life in hospital rooms than I can count, Larry... and that's far too many. What I need now is to LIVE. Besides, I would rather have the medical follow-up done back home in Montreal... you know... by my usual doctors."

"That makes sense... so why a cab? Your mom won't be with you?"

Zooey sighed in regret. "You saw how she reacted yesterday... mom is quite upset with me for cutting short my hospital stay, as usual. She's gone, and probably figuring a comeback scenario for my concert tour... which makes weird sense, I guess... since I told her I'm fit enough to leave the hospital."

"I'm sorry..."

"I'm not... I mean, don't get me wrong: I owe mom a debt of gratitude that two hundred years of servitude would barely make a down payment on. But, you see... that's the whole problem: I CAN'T repay her. So we have this... understanding... once in a while - she knows when - she's allowed to vent and say I TOLD YOU SO and I have, from time to time, to swallow my pride and apologize for hurting her or letting her down... and she forgives me, of course. And I will never dare bring up all that she gave up for my sake."

Lawrence was fully absorbed, mentally fitting together the puzzle pieces he was aware of and ready to infer the missing ones. There was something in Zooey's confiding tone that removed all inhibition in him. "Like leaving Norway?"

Zooey visibly recoiled. "Sheesh! Larry... how... wow, you sure go for the throat!"

"I'm sorry Zooey... I suppose I believe in the band-aid theory... you know... a sharp sting is better than twenty needles. But we can just as well talk about the weather if you want... really... I'm just happy to be here."

Zooey's eyes opened wide. "Happy? You're happy? Aren't you pushing it a little?"

Lawrence widened his smile to a ridiculously dopey width with his fingers. "Nope... no exaggeration... I'm just plain happy! And, after careful analysis of all data and metadata, I can conclude that the main correlation factor is not wakefieldite, is certainly not the weather: it is, in fact, your company."

Zooey lost her breath and laughed out loud. "Wakewhat? Did you just invent a word like Mary Poppins?"

Lawrence felt numb and did not need his fingers to hold his smile. "I don't have that much imagination, Zooey. Wakefieldite is a rare-earth mineral, a tetragonal crystal of yttrium vanadate. It's named after St-Pierre-de-Wakefield, the nearby town where it was first observed and characterized, in a local feldspar quarry.

Zooey was flabbergasted. "I don't suppose you're making this up, huh?" Slightly intimidated by his silent negation, she moved the subject to more familiar ground. "And how old are you, exactly?"

Lawrence answered, tit-for-tat and still jubilant. "I will turn twenty-five in nine days... I was born on April 19, 1994. I always liked that date: 19-4-1994. Mom says that's why I have a knack with numbers."

It was obvious that Zooey was about to, very merrily, wish Lawrence a happy birthday in advance. But the immediate sound that was heard instead was the one of the nurse coming in the room with discharge papers. And, the way she was stringently humming while signing them, Lawrence could tell Zooey was annoyed. He could not believe it.

After the nurse had wished her well, asked for an autograph and left the room, Zooey let go a loud deflating noise with her cheeks. "Talk about a burst bubble!"

But, to Lawrence, something in the situation had inexorably changed and he smiled no more. "Yea... right... huh... Zooey, do you need help packing?"

"Not unless you want to help me out of this robe... hi, hi!" She laughed in pure delight at seeing Lawrence's cheeks turn purple. "Mom took care of everything except my purse."

Lawrence was inwardly feeling like a he had tumbled over a cliff. "Well, then... do you want a lift? I could go get my car... or I could walk with you to the Rapibus... the casino has a bus station and it would be a lot cheaper... probably faster too, the way traffic goes at lunchtime..."

For the first time, it hit Zooey that there was something else than just happenstance going on with Lawrence. "Larry... it's alright... I'll be fine. What's the matter? You don't have to do this..."

"I know that... but... I want to..."

Now Zooey was seriously, and fully, focused into this conversation. "You want to? What are you saying, Larry?"

"Does it matter? You have to go... and I have a shift in a couple of hours..."

"Larry, if you assume, you make an ass of you and me... I don't remember where or when I heard this for the first time, but it's a creed I live by. Please... ask me what you want to ask me."

Lawrence summed up all his inner courage. "Zooey, do you really have to go now? I would love to spend more time with you..."

Zooey was surprised at herself to be so moved. Which made her answer all the more disheartening. "I don't think it's possible, Larry. I'm truly sorry about this. I have to leave and go back to my life... life that you have saved, you know. I will never forget you or what you have done. And I also had a wonderful time in your company. Maybe fate will bring the two of us back in the same orbit soon. I would like that... a lot, in fact. Farewell Larry." She kissed him ever so softly on the cheek.

Lawrence had almost no voice. "Farewell, Zooey... you... huh... you're amazing... I hope you're happy! And... huh... you know, about... don't worry about..."

"I know, Larry, I know... I'm not worried. Not one bit."

"Good. Goodbye, Zooey." Lawrence turned around and resolutely walked out of her room, closing the door behind him.

2. - ... and love is its name

Later, at work, Lawrence was in a horrible mood and, while doing his closing-time round, people could just not leave the mall quickly enough. He desperately wanted to be alone.

When the security cell phone rang, he picked it up from his uniform pocket while uttering a very audible curse, just before switching his throat to customer service mode and answering, cheerfully. "Securite les Promenades Gatineau, bonsoir."

"Bonsoir Larry..." Zooey's voice thrilled him so much, Lawrence became all thumbs and he dropped his keys. "Is everything OK? I can call later if..."

"No-no-NOO! Huh... I mean... it's all OK, Zooey. I'm in the middle of a loading dock and I was about to lock the door. Boy! I'm glad you called! What can I do for you?"

"Well... I still feel like a harpy for leaving you high and dry after your so nice request..."

"... yes..."

"And I'm not really expected in Montreal just yet..."

"... yes..."

"AAAnd I haven't checked out of my hotel room yet..."

"... YEEESSSS..." Lawrence was being reeled in all over again. Zooey was very obviously enjoying this.

"So, Lawrence Linney, for your birthday, in advance, I would like you to attend a musical concert with me. Right here, in the casino. Are you free tomorrow night?"

Lawrence had no clue if or how he could free himself from work. "Of course! Who's playing?"

"Saga; it's an 80's Canadian band." Lawrence would have to search for it later, before bedtime.

"That sounds really great! I will be thrilled to go out with you, tomorrow night."

Zooey shrieked in delight. "Yeaaaa! And we'll play in the casino afterwards, all right? Do you come here often?"

"I've never been..." Lawrence knew that was a wrong answer.

"Bouhou! That's a shame... I just LOVE casinos! And I can't wait to see you tomorrow, Larry!!!"

"Same here, Zooey." Lawrence had to remind himself he had a shopping mall to lock down.

---

Thursday night, April 11, could not arrive fast enough for Lawrence, who was effervescent with an excess of energy he did not know how to spend.

But he finally made it. Despite still being self-conscious about his appearance, he was walking nervously the short pathway separating the bus stop to the main casino entrance, where Zooey was supposed to greet him.

There was a large crowd making its way to the entrance, But Lawrence saw Zooey the second he passed the doors. He would have spotted her in an ocean of people. And he was so bedazzled that he almost turned back.

Zooey was wearing a black mermaid dress that left nothing to the imagination regarding her enticing curves. As the dress was see-through, save for a modest fraction in the front, Lawrence got his first generous peek at Zooey's skin and it looked as perfect as the rest of her. She wore her long hair in a simple and elegant ponytail, plus a pair of glossy black high heels that would bring their eyes at even level, a hint of eye shadow and an elegant matching set of golden earrings and purse. Her nervous smile was showcased by a dark-red lipstick and a black choker necklace.

Walking up to her, Lawrence felt like a complete toad. To him, such beauty has always been otherworldly and unattainable. Then he remembered Zooey's creed and found some courage in it.

"Good evening Zooey. Have you been waiting for long?"

Zooey's smile literally erupted and burned bright, as if he was the most welcome sight on Earth. "Larryyy!!! OHhhh, it's so good to see you again!" Before Lawrence could process any of this, Zooey had kissed him on both cheeks and then inspected her handiwork. "Mmm... good... no smudges... yet!" She shrieked in mischievous delight and politely lied. "I've only been here a minute or two: you're right on time."

"Perfect. Before anything else, I have to say: Zooey, you look absolutely spectacular tonight. And that dress..." Lawrence was searching for words.

Zooey was extremely pleased. "Do you really like it? I've ordered copies of Vesper Lynd's dresses from Casino Royale. Next time we go to the casino, I'll style my hair up and wear the other one... it's backless."