Oppression (3 page)

“Okay so you caught me. Are you going to turn me in for moral hypocrisy?”

She laughed subtly, but answered with undeniable sincerity. “Look, don’t feel bad. I ordered the same thing you did. I only wanted to make a point in my defense. People criticize. It’s in their nature. They’ll pass judgment on almost anything that involves them. Citizens blame the government for their own shortcomings while they rely on the fruits of its existence. They damn the use of oil and its effect on the environment but they drive their cars to work and heat their homes. Do they have a choice? Could they survive without it?”

“So what is your point?” I asked with slight hostility.

“I’m sure you’ll understand it soon enough.” Her voice was almost too cheerful, which made it even more antagonizing.

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it.” After she took the last bite of her burrito, she stood to clear her tray. “See you around, Elyse,” she said. Without another word, she turned and walked out of sight, leaving me completely unsatisfied.

I thought about going home, but after such a strange morning, I just felt like getting lost in the city. I caught a bus and let it take me downtown. Since moving here, I’d quickly grown to love the eclectic feel and buzzing streets. I appreciated the fact that I could walk around in my coffee-stained clothes and nobody would care. People were free here, and could be, look, act, or live any way they pleased. It reminded me of the circus, accepting of outcasts and those who were different, including me. San Francisco was where I belonged, and it was the perfect place to be alone, but not by myself.

Today the sun shone brightly through the strong-willed trees that grew up through the concrete, casting shadowy patches on the sidewalk. I was grateful that nature refused to surrender here. Even amidst the man-made machine, it persevered.

I stayed out until dark, trying to figure out the strange girl who claimed to know me better than I knew myself, but I couldn’t understand her. Then there was William, who had been right all along. If I wanted answers, I knew he would have them. Or at least I hoped he would.

2.

WHEN I GOT HOME, I remembered what William had said about Cearno’s after 5:00 and hoped he would still be there. Before I even had a chance to get to the café door, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadowed alleyway between my building and another.

“It’s me,” he said, taking my hand. I could feel the warmth beginning to build beneath our palms.

I sighed. “Jeez. You scared me.”

“Good. Now we’re even.”

His looks were distracting, his eyes a dusty green and mouth seductive by nature. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and laughed with relief. “Well, as long as you’re sorry, and not dead.”

“Dead? Look we need to talk, this is . . .”

“We should go somewhere else. I don’t know if it’s safe here.”

“Okay,” I answered, but he seemed hesitant, remembering my last attempt at ditching him. “I believe you.”

He nodded. “My car is around the corner.”

He drove a silvery blue Honda Civic, and once we were inside, he relaxed.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this.” He laughed to himself. “Things haven’t gone
exactly
as planned, but I think the night can still be salvaged.” He looked at me, gauging my reaction. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“A little,” I admitted with a smile. I wasn’t supposed to be encouraging this sort of thing, but I couldn’t help myself. “How
did
you plan it?”

My question seemed to perk him up. “Oh, you know, kick up the charm, dinner, flowers, a movie. The way normal people do it.”

I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into or what was going on, but for some reason I trusted him. It was a nice thought to imagine myself on a date. I’d never been on one.

We ended up at a small public library. As we walked toward the white granite building, he reached out for my hand again, and I instinctively pulled it away before he had a chance to weave his fingers through mine. It was a quick defensive movement, almost as if I was afraid of his touch, and maybe I was. I was afraid that it might mean something it couldn’t, that I might like it.

“It’s not what you think,” he said.

“It’s nothing, I just . . .”

“Just don’t want me to hold your hand,” he finished for me. “I get it.” We continued walking in silence, but his eyes were looking for something, or someone. “You know if we were on a date, you’d expect me to hold your hand.”

“Only this isn’t a date,” I answered.

He stopped, trying to think of how to explain. “If we’re touching, it protects us.”

I was starting to get irritated. “From who?” I asked, but he ignored my question.

“Can you feel it?” He lifted my limp fingers and pressed his palm to mine. The warmth was subtle at first, but emanated the longer we held them together.

“What is it?” I asked.

He took a deep breath with new hope in his eyes, as he slowly and cautiously folded his fingers into the grooves of my knuckles. “Friends can hold hands, right?”

“No,” I said with a modest smile, but I didn’t pull away. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will.”

I was right. His touch was dangerous—I liked it too much.

When we reached the basement level of the library, he set me free, dragging his loose fingers across the rows of books. The place was silent and smelled like old paper, but in a good way. If there was anyone else on this level, they’d kept hidden and quiet.

“I love it down here,” he whispered. “There’s so much knowledge in this little room.”

I’d never thought of it that way, but he was right. There must have been thousands of books filling row upon row of the freestanding shelves. Truth, science, love, art, a seemingly endless collection of knowledge free for the taking.

“And still, there’s nobody here,” I observed. It seemed strange that so much knowledge could be so easily disregarded.

“There never is,” he said, making himself comfortable on the floor of one of the aisles. “I come here a lot.”

I sat down beside him as he began picking through the books, pulling out interesting titles.

“So what is this about? Do you know who’s following me?”

“Yes,” he answered simply, tilting his head as he scanned the book spines, looking for a specific title.

“Well?”

“After what happened on the train, I thought about it, and I decided to keep it a secret a while longer.”

“Why?”

“You won’t believe me, and I don’t want you to run off again like I’m some crazy person.”

“I do believe you. On my way home, Kara found me. I talked to her, and she admitted it. You were right. She was following me.”

He froze and looked at me with alarm. “You talked to her?”

“Yeah. She wouldn’t tell me anything though. That’s why I need you to tell me,” I urged.

“I can’t believe you talked to her. She’s dangerous, Elyse.”

“She seemed pretty normal to me.”

“She’s not.”

As much as I was enjoying cozying up to William in the cramped and narrow hallway of books, I had a reason for being here.

“Look, do you know anything or are you just trying to seduce me in the abandoned aisles of the library basement?”

He laughed. “I’m not trying to seduce you, not unless you want me to,” he said with a look that was far too honest.

The thought reminded me that it was just the two of us down here, alone together. All I’d have to do was say ‘yes, I want you to,’ and maybe he’d kiss me right here, on top of all these books.

“I’ve never been seduced. I’ve never even been kissed,” I admitted. “I’m not sure it would work.” What was it about this guy? I was saying things I knew I shouldn’t. Friends, I told myself in an effort to shut out the fantasy I had let run wild in my head. The most we could ever be was friends.

“Oh, trust me,” he promised through a confident grin. “It would work.”

“You’re probably right.” What was I doing? Talking to him was like playing with fire, and it had me testing my limits. “Better not then.”

I pretended to change my focus, and started looking through books as if I was actually reading parts of them. I wasn’t.

“I find it hard to believe that you’ve never been kissed.”

I blushed. “Believe it.”

“It’s sort of adorable.”

“That’s not exactly what I was going for. I mean, I try to make a point to divert any attention from myself.”

“I don’t think it’s working.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I put out the vibe.”

“What vibe?”

“The ‘not interested so leave me alone’ vibe.”

He merely lifted an eyebrow to this apparently crazy suggestion.

“So you’re not going to tell me who’s following me?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Here,” he said pulling an ancient copy of
Homeric Hymns
from the bottom shelf. It was dark red with gold print and looked like it had been read from cover to cover more times than it could handle. He slid across the cheap industrial carpet toward me. We were sitting so close we were touching. “I wanted to show you this.”

“Okay,” I said, not seeing the connection.

He looked at me, suddenly so much more serious than he had been. “There are so many books here. It’s like you could find the answer to any question if you just looked hard enough, you know?”

“Yeah,” I answered skeptically, trying to read the insinuation in his words.

“Can I read you some of this? I’m hoping it will help you.”

I was completely lost. “Help me what?”

“Not all of it is true of course. Only pieces. They got so much of it wrong.”

“Who?” He might as well have been talking nonsense, but his eyes were so sincere, I had to take him seriously.

“Just listen, okay?”

The book was dog-eared. I didn’t know whether he had done it, but he flipped right to the page he wanted. As he read, I tried to focus on the words, but his low purring voice was thick as honey, distracting me more than I’d expected.

“
Thereupon Aphrodite the daughter of Zeus answered him: Anchises, most glorious of all men born on earth, know that I am no goddess: why do you liken me to the deathless ones? Nay, I am but a mortal, and a woman was the mother that bare me.”

He looked up from the book, and glanced at me quickly before scanning down a bit further.

“
And Anchises was seized with love, so that he opened his mouth and said:

“If you are a mortal and a woman was the mother who bare you, and Otreus of famous name is your father as you say, and if you are come here by the will of Hermes the immortal Guide, and are to be called my wife always, then neither god nor mortal man shall here restrain me till I have lain with you in love right now; no, not even if far-shooting Apollo himself should launch grievous shafts from his silver bow. Willingly would I go down into the house of Hades, O lady, beautiful as the goddesses, once I had gone up to your bed.
”

We sat in silence for a few moments after he finished. I knew he was eagerly awaiting my response, but I didn’t know what to say.

“It’s really good,” I managed.

A breathy hopeless laugh escaped his lips. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“I don’t get it.”

A smile cracked through his hardened expression. I could tell he was disappointed, but what did he expect?

“All right,” he said. “Forget the book. I’ll make you a deal.”

“What kind of a deal?”

“You let me take you out tomorrow, on a date,” he added hastily, “and in exchange, I’ll tell you everything.”

“If there’s even anything to tell. This sounds like a scam or something.”

“It’s not a scam.”

“I don’t really date,” I confessed, still tempted by his offer. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he answered, pleased with his arrangement. “My way is a lot more fun.”

We stayed until the library closed, and he drove me home, leaving all of my questions unanswered.

“Okay, so I’ll pick you up here at 6:30 tomorrow,” he said as he let me off in front of my apartment. “Don’t ‘forget,’ because I’ll just see you around, and then you’ll have to come up with an excuse. It’ll be weird.”

“Well, I guess I have no choice then.” I played along.

“Nope.” His smile was like a blow to the chest—its brilliance overwhelming. How could I resist?