Chapter 7: Him
When she turned around and said, "Well. I guess you're stuck with me. Be happy." I thought she was about to hit me. It's obvious that this beautiful woman really prefers to be left alone. Maybe it's just that she's in New York, or maybe this is normal for people in Colorado, but I bet it's not healthy. She's so alone. No one even came to New York with her.
Anyway, we are headed back to the hotel, with her leading and stomping around like a spoiled child.
'Who is this woman?' I pray to God. 'What on earth is she doing here? Why have You stopped her from going home, when that's all she wants to do?'
I don't get an answer immediately, but find us at the hotel. She marches and leads me to the lounge and she finds a small corner with two chairs and a table between them.
"Sit. Stay. I'll be right back with my knitting. I'm sure you're going to want to talk, huh?"
I nod, but she has already turned her back and made a dash for the stairs.
She comes back in about 15 minutes, with a giant tote bag on her shoulder, a different hairstyle and her slippers.
She plopped down in the chair opposite me, pulled out some blue needles and black yarn.
"Alright. Knock yourself out. Ask me some questions."
I can't help but smile. This girl is so… blunt.
"The first story you ever posted."
She nodded. "Spinning Wheel."
"That's the one. What possessed you to write that? What made you think of taking a villain such as Maleficent and turn her into a good guy? What about her character made you think she was just misunderstood?"
"Of all the …" she looked very surprised, but regained composure pretty quickly. "Maleficent was the kind of character that people would pay attention to, just because she was a sorcerer, or rather a sorceress. She's not someone you just assume is dead, just so you don't have to ask her to a party. And what could she gain from cursing a baby? What good would that do? But more than that, why a spinning wheel of all things? Why not an ax or a crossbow?"
Good questions. Wow, her mind must be more active than a frightened rabbit.
"So, I was just exploring how I would feel if I was all that and someone didn't invite me to a party, and their excuse was that I was dead. Seriously? A sorceress gets presumed dead because she doesn't show up at a beck and call, but ignore her… and your kid is toast. That's all I wanted to say. Why? What did you think of it?"
"Well, I thought that your approach to the spinning wheel was a little… off the map. I mean, it's not a weapon, as you said, but she also had an edge for humiliation. That would mean, since they got rid of all but one spinning wheel, that they wouldn't have any yarn or thread, and they would have to import all of the cloth and fabric they wore, making the economy of her country better. That was just…" I'm so amazed at it, I make an explosion with my hands. "Blew my mind." I smile. "No one else would have thought of that, but it makes so much sense!"
She nods at me. "That's what I'm good at. Everyone's thinking it, but I'm the only one with the guts to say it."
"It's awesome." 'Holy cow, am I actually sitting here with this amazing woman?' "I think there should be more people like you."
Her face turns to stone. "I don't."
Uh oh. What did I just say? "What do you mean, you don't?"
"I don't think there should be more people like me. I'm unique. If there were more like me, I wouldn't be unique. It's obnoxious. I'm glad there's only one of me. Do I wish that there were more people with morals like mine? Yes. Do I wish that some people thought more like me in the logical sense? Yes. But do I think there should me more like me? No."
Her fingers are flying over the needles and she is watching my face intently. "Does that make sense?"
"Yeah. That makes total sense. I'm sorry. I'll try to watch what I say and say exactly what I mean."
"That would be most appreciated." She looked down at what she was doing and said, "Next question."
I went through with lots of questions about her work and then got into a few questions about her drinking habits. Turns out that she only drinks coffee when she's highly stressed and can't even taste chocolate. She's a chocoholic, in that she is highly addicted to the stuff. That M&M hot chocolate she had at the café was her daily fix. M&Ms are her favorite, but she takes hers in the mint or peanut kind, where I prefer the dark or milk chocolate kind. We talked for hours and hours on all kinds of subjects, even to the point of getting to religion.
"So, when you said earlier today that 'this is His way of punishing me, I might as well enjoy it' you were talking about God, right?"
"Yeah. He has a nasty habit of punishing me, and not letting me have my way. He knows what it does to me when I get my way." She smiled. "It makes me depend on Him less, and I don't usually like what I asked for. So He doesn't let me have my way. For whatever reason…" she got a wistful look and glanced around the room. "He wants me to stay here in New York, even after I messed everything up. Probably a lesson in, 'you can't run from your problems' or something like that."
"Does He teach you lessons like that a lot?"
"Yeah. All the time it seems like. I can't do anything good enough, or bad enough, to get Him to stop teaching me lessons. All the time, patience, self-control, peace, and lots of others. I've not gotten them all down yet, but He keeps teaching me!" she shakes her head. "It's annoying sometimes, but I know what He wants sooner or later."
I try to keep myself very calm for her sake, trying not to venture too close to a sensitive subject that might make her run. But I'm about to bounce of my seat I'm so excited. She's exactly what I've been spending my whole life looking for.
"And as far as marriage is concerned… you don't have a ring?" I ask trying not to sound presumptuous.
She glared at me, and got up. "That topic is between me, my dad, and God. The end. It's late and I'm going to bed." She swung the tote over her left shoulder and stood quite straight as she held out her hand. "Goodbye. Thank you for today."
"No, no. Thank you! I had a wonderful time. I had no idea… and the debate was fantastic." She groaned.
"The debate was a disaster. Don't think it's anything but one of my ultimate failures in self-control." She sighed, and I shook her hand with both hands.
"It's going to be okay. Can I call on you tomorrow night and we can talk some more?"
She turned her face to stone again. "I don't think so. You seem to only want one thing, and that thing is for my father to decide. I don't even know you." And she turned to leave, but not before I grabbed her hand.
"Please. Tomorrow, there's a kind of ball in a place downtown. Would you join me? It's really old fashioned, if you wanted to dress up… some of us are."
She looked at me, with no change in expression. "Let go of me." She growled. "Yes. I think that would be fine. I don't have anything else to do." I let go and she relaxed. "When are you going to pick me up?"
"Does 6 sound good?"
"Excellent. I go to bed about 10 o'clock every night." She turned around. "See ya!" She waved without looking back.
Wow… what a woman!
I get home and march my way straight into bed. For the first night in weeks, I don't have dreams.