"You know, I really don't know all that much about you," said Em. "Tell me what I don't know. Everything. Good, bad and ugly." Em twirled her hair. Trev looked at her like she was crazy. "Start with anything. Doesn't have to be scary."
"Okay, I like red ink and I hate black ink."
Em smiled. "If this is a metaphor, I think I'm about to fall in love."
Trev frowned. "Would have been a good one."
"It's not?"
"Afraid not. I just like red ink and I prefer almost any color over black. Black is so lifeless, so impersonal, so business and staid, and old and humorless. Red, on the other hand, is alive, like blood. When you see it, you know--you know something important is here, something that should be remarked, remembered, taken seriously. Red is the color of life."
"Wow. I never knew. Tell me something else. Something I don't know."
"I can't step on an ant. I can't swat a fly. I just can't kill any living thing. It's why I decided to go to medical school. I know it sounds cliché, but I've always wanted to be the one that could save a life, not take it. The trouble is pride. I see it in the corners. Pride lurking. It whispers to me. Tells me I'm better than others because I save lives. I know its not true, that life is not that black and white, that truth is more than just a series of firmly held postulates; yet, I hear the voice. I'm unable to shake it."
"Do you want to? I mean, do you really want to let the pride go? What if that pride is what is driving you, that that pride is doing you more good than bad?"
"That's a very nice way to look at it and I love you to pieces for the heart that can say such things, but the truth of the matter is this." Trev hesitated. He had shared before. Opened his heart. And in every case, not some, but every time, he had been attacked for the honesty, told he shouldn't feel or think that way. Judged. He was tired of the weight of judgment. He was tired of people asking him to open up only to smash him in the mouth when he did. He looked at Em. His jaw tightened. His breath shallowed.
"Is what?"
Trev sighed. "If I tell you what I really feel, if I show you my heart, completely raw, as it is, will you judge me?"
Em sat up. "Of course not."
"What if I told you that everyone else has made the same claim. Said one thing and then did another?"
"I'm not everyone else." Trev didn't respond. "Look, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to but--"
"But what?"
"But if you don't tell me, who are you going to tell? If you don't trust me, you can you trust? We are a crew of seven, eight if you want to count Kieran. Listen to me Trev. There are not a lot of other fish in the ocean. I'm here. Now. I've got two ears and one heart and I think I know how to use them."
"Okay. The pride is not driving me. It is a reflection of my immaturity, of my need to feel like I matter, that I am important. I can't pilot the ship like Rog. I can't do Zing Tao stuff like Kyra and Von. I can't Null like Mairi or even flirt and frail like Yul." He stopped. Dizzy in the emotional tide pulling him out to a sea he would rather avoided.
"Can I ask you a question?" said Em.
"Sure."
"Did you leave me out on purpose?"
"What?"
"You listed everyone on board but me."
"No, not on purpose."
"Well . . ."
"Are you looking for a reason to disown me? Is that what this is about?"
"Wow. I can't believe you just said that."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you really."
"Em, I've never known someone that I felt sincerely cared about me for who I am. So I've lived most of my life pretending to be someone I'm not, trying to please people, to be accepted. When I look at you, that is what I see. I see someone who doesn't have to try, who doesn't even know how to project. You are who you are. I struggle to even know what that means."
"Oh Trev."
"Em, when I hear you tell stories about your mom and dad, I pretend to be happy and in a certain sense, I am, happy for you. But you know what else?"
"What baby?"
"Those stories are like a knife in my side. Everything you had. I didn't. Your stories remind me of what I didn't have, will never have and although I try to resist it, I resent that you had them in your life. Do you see it? Do you see my immaturity? Do you want to run away now? Do you want to laugh at me and tell everyone else what an idiot I am?"
"Are you through?"
"Well . . ."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Go for it."
"I didn't ask nor did I choose my parents. Neither did you. What we had or didn't have is history. It exist in memory. We can't change it. But you know what, we are not slaves to it either."
"I don't know how to let go."
Em laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"There is no 'how' in letting go."
"I don't follow."
"I don't know how to explain it other than it is like breathing. You just do it. If you think about it or try, it becomes much more difficult."
"Still not following you here."
"Okay, how 'bout this. I open my arms and you fall into them?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Let's try it." Em opened her arms.
"You want me to what?"
"I want you to trust me. I want you to let go." Trev hesitated. "Do it. Fall into my arms."
"What is that going to accomplish?"
"Other than your warm body against mine?"
"Yea, other than that."
"Trev," Em's tone changed, "I don't know all the answers but I do know this. If we don't have each other, we've got nothing. I'm here. Now you either trust me or you don't. What's it gonna be?"
15 comments:
I know it already, I'll be here for an hour and I would have said hardly nothing of every thought that passed through my mind, every window that opened, every recognition and interpretation and understanding. I'll start with what will come bursting out at some point anyway, I absolutely loved this chapter. For reasons that I have no need to list, but are found through words spoken and for the reasons of flow and ease and beauty, always found, sometimes more touching than at other times. I like this chapter for the reason of dialogue, though we have seen it before between Em and Trev and though there have been some, in a word, heavy scenes that have occurred between them, it has been physical and personal and from the outside looking in, whereas here we have a fully-fledged heart to heart of the kind that happens too seldom. Before I forget, when your characters say 'What baby?', whether it be Yul, or Rog, or in this case Em, it does something to me, I just plain love that, love the intimacy of it, the affection, the responsiveness, the care and concern, the forthcoming nature of that phase.
How you come upon an opening like red ink over black, I do not know, the question of metaphor and the explanation provided, but I could wrap my arms around you and hugs you forever and a day for it, for Red is the colour of life. Alive like blood.
The honesty that he conveys and the fear based on past experience that there are not as many as one would like who truly do wish to see behind the mask, or rather who see the whole without separating into parts. One feels as a reader somewhat like Em here, and much more so for we do not know all that has happened between them, but with Trev and the journey that he has had to undertake from those first scenes that we saw with him to the Hynerian that he is today, there are very clear barriers that allow us only so close and no farther. It is a part of what makes this story so special, that there are characters that one feels that one knows in as far as one can at this point in time with the knowledge provided and there are characters where one hopes that someday one will be allowed closer, but even if one isn't there is still a great privilege felt to be allowed to watch and learn. With this chapter, one loves Trev just a little bit more. A lot more.
When I look at you, that is what I see. I see someone who doesn't have to try, who doesn't even know how to project. You are who you are. I struggle to even know what that means." With each of these chapters from Trev and Em, their lines become clearer, the ground firmer and where at first they seemed so tentative, where at first their relationship seemed so precarious, this chapter evokes such pleasure and hope as the pieces start to draw together, a path ahead taking shape, possibilities and probabilities, fate...to much too soon, I know, getting way ahead of where the story might go, but whether things end happily or sad matters not, what matters is the here and now, the genuine feelings, the honesty that exists between them now, and they are good for each other.
And why did he leave her out. Bless her for asking the question. For the windows that it opens, that do not necessarily lead anywhere and doesn't need answers.
Love the tie-backs, to so many chapters that came before, love the underlining, the approach from a different direction and the reminder that there is little difference in the twists and turns along our way. Forgiveness and trust and letting go and honesty, embrace and life and love. Yul and Rog, Cait and John, Kieran and Kyra to name but a few of those featured in remembered scenes. Though he speaks of it here too, their youth is present throughout and with the firming of ground, there's a smile too for their so to speak having joined the ranks of those that came before.
I was right, I could write about this chapter for the remainder of the night and flit and float on the outskirts of it's paragraphs...as a chapter, it was perfect. Hugs to you, you wonderful pleasure-provider you, loved (how many loves in this comment?:) every moment spent here, like I came looking and found exactly what I needed and now all is right in the world once again. LOL Absolutely true too. Happy Tuesday, Poppet, hope everything is right in your world too, x
Sweetest, now that is a comment. Wow. :-D
Your engagement of the story moves me like nothing other, it has an energy I can't explain, it brings meaning to doubt and a lightness and joy to the cloak of despair. This story is as much yours as it is mine.
The red and black is a personal observation. I simply prefer to write in red ink over any other color for the very reasons Trev pointed to. I abhor black for all those many reasons too. The original thought was to have Em ask the opening question and then to have Trev give her a "100 things about me kind of answer" starting with the "I love red ink" bit. I'm not sure what happened. I started the chapter on the other site, just typing into the create a post box. I started the chapter and it just kept going. This is another of those, 'it wrote itself' chapters.
I can't say enough about your comment. The bread on my table, the eggs in my cake, the cherry on my cream. :-)
Sweet dreams when you get that far.
Love,
Poppet
First of all I love the imagery, you know that, MINE. Oh how I love it. But the words. My Lord Tree, these are wonderful. I am so glad that you mulled them over because this is perfect. The emotion, the vulnerability. Em as the stronger of the two, who would have thought? TRUST and JUDGEMENT. That hits DEEP. Will surely strike a chord with any reader, and has struck a chord with me. I will read this again. And probably again. I think it will have layers to be discovered with each reading. I haven't read the above comments yet either.
Truly Wonderful.
Jen
Second reading thoughts....
I find that I bristle when Trev opens up and shares, compares himself to others (and for a man, I think that is hard, to point out that he feels inferior to others) and Em IMMEDIATELY throws out 'what about me, why did I get left out' (paraphrased). LISTEN! I want to say to her, this is about him. But then she totally sets me at ease with her sweet invitation to let go and fall into her arms, metaphorically a place of safety. Her embrace. Her protection, the only thing that she can offer, from his demons. I enjoyed this chapter so much.
Jen
Excellent writing Trée.
Very enjoyable post.
Thank you Miladysa. :-)
Jen, one of the challenges with writing just dialogue is you leave tone and delivery to the imagination of the reader. When I wrote the bit about Em asking "what about me" there was a very tender tone in her voice but there was also a little bit of pushing. She knew Trev was starting to open up and she also knew he was still holding back and as long as he held back with regard to her, it would always be an obstacle in their relationship. So, instead of putting her head in the sand or enabling him to tell some of the truth but not all of it, she asks the question that he created in his selective accounting. And, as we see, he does have much more to say about how he sees her and that opens up very fertile psychological ground and very important ground for them to plow in order to enrich their relationship. In other words, she doesn't let him off the hook by avoiding a direct 'confrontation' on matters of importance--and this tells us as much about Em as it does Trev. Having said all that, I can certainly see the way you read this passage.
Jen, thanks for the very kind words on this chapter. :-)
AH, confrontation. Now I understand what it is in MYSELF that disliked that small part of the scene. I shrink from confrontation, even the gentle type, so this WOULD have rubbed me the wrong way. Readers have their own interpretation and their own 'Baggage-strainer' in which the scene has to filter through!
Still, altogether lovely. I really liked this chapter.
The commentary about red ink gave me a sense of likeness with you. I BLOG ( if you could call it that - journal maybe?) in red print. I like your spin on why red ink is better instead of my less descriptive reasons...I like red!
Have a great day.
Jen
OMG! I think I AM Em. My strong response to this chapter really shocks me.
W, tell me more. Tell me what strong response means. Tell me how you identify.
God.
I'm way too much like Trev on most days.
I'm diggin' on him more and more and more.
He's very real.
xo, Tree
Be well.
I like red ink too.
It frailing rocks.
Strumper, thanks for the feedback. I often see my characters, as they appear in the chapters I write, as two-dimensional, although I try very hard to bring them to life and avoid them seeming 'made-up' and unrealistic. It is so hard to see my writing with the eyes of a reader. In fact, until a year or so passes, I'm not able to do it. All I see is the editing to be done, what I would have done differently, the gaps and flaws, the poor execution, and, when I'm reading good literature, the pale comparisons that are at times very disheartening.
going back I realize it was Trev's words that got me, not Em's.
"Em, I've never known someone that I felt sincerely cared about me for who I am. So I've lived most of my life pretending to be someone I'm not, trying to please people, to be accepted. When I look at you, that is what I see. I see someone who doesn't have to try, who doesn't even know how to project. You are who you are. I struggle to even know what that means."
There is a reason I use the name Chame Leon. That is not the name my parents gave me. It is the name I chose. Though I pronounce it all soft and French it is really derived from chameleon. I never feel I can measure up to other's expectations. I don't know how to just BE, go through life reinventing the frailing wheel. Coming out has helped a lot though. I finally have some sense of who I am. hmmm, maybe Trev is actually gay and in denial. *grins*
W, it is hard when we live in a world that is always trying to tell us how we should be, how we should look, how we should act, how we should be. We get bombarded with forces trying to get us to conform for all kinds of reasons. I can live with "society's" pressure. It is when family and friends tell me I should be different, that I shouldn't do this or that I should do that, that I get frustrated. I'm not sure why other people feel like they have the right to tell someone else how they should live and what they should like or dislike or how they should spend a day off, etc.
I'm not like the typical person. I'm introverted but not shy; I'm a homebody who prefers the company of one versus many; I enjoy time alone, love my solitude, a good book and a fast internet connection. Most people bore me and, it seems, I bore most of them too. When I was younger I felt a lot of pressure to be like the others. I tried. I failed. The older I get, the easier it seems to be just to be me and not try to apologize for it. I still have my days when I lapse into people pleasing mode, but those days are fewer and fewer.
Seems we have a lot in common. I also am happy in my solitude. Maybe that is a trait many writers share. I enjoy people but I am happy to be alone or one on one. I am frustrated at a world telling me that my life must conform to their image of wife, mother, good Christian... Then there are the ones who tell me that to be authentic I must walk away from all that is familiar and try to survive when I am ill prepared to survive on my own. You know, one of my biggest fears is that I'll end up a lesbian bag woman. Crazy nu? So I take this time to hone the craft of writing. A career that once I get it off the ground is portable. *gets back to work on novel*
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