Part 3

I would see Lissa again on Wednesday at our second class session, which had two less students on our side and three less on the other side (no one I knew). Let the attrition begin…

Lissa crept closer to chat with me during breaks and before class but she enjoyed the back row too much to give it up, same with me for the middle. The second class involved a lot of theoretical discussion, some accounts (in both written and video form) of the experience of the imitation device as well as plenty of precautionary notices, and a lot about “gender politics” as well as terms which verged on the abstract.

Not to say they weren’t explained but the explanations spiraled into other definitions which even seemed to cycle back on themselves. I leaned against the cushioned wall and lazily jotted down notes. It wasn’t till towards the end of the long discussion that it was revealed we didn’t even need to remember most of this but to rather just “keep it in mind” to help with our self-studies. It also meant we would have several more turns at gender sociology and explorations of outside cultures, enclaves, and other preexisting frames that scientists tried to apply to the Kinrae.

For me, I let it all be absorbed as I sat. Actually, that was a bit too optimistic. I let the words bounce around and off me. Students beside me were religiously taking precise notes in shorthand about everything said, discussed, or pointed out in the text (which wasn’t required yet for discussion but mine was in the mail from the online bookstore).

I still had the tickle of a cough left over from the morning. I often got that because my mouth felt strangely dry when I woke up. It would usually pass with breakfast but not this time. I hoped it didn’t mean anything. This was too early in a class quarter for getting sick, although no time was convenient. The end of the session before Christmas break was the worst but I managed to hold it off and only catch a cold for a few days. Allison dressed up as a satin Santa and made hot soup for me.

A couple long sips from my water helped reassure me that it was nothing. Still, I considered canceling Thursday with Lissa because I didn’t want to get her or Quilla sick. At the end of class, she scoffed at the idea, threatening me with mega-doses of Vitamin C.

Thankfully, my cough passed as the day went along, likely intimidated by Lissa’s piercing gaze.

Thursday worked out perfectly because Malcolm was staying home after classes, Allison had grocery shopping and a long shift at the bath and body store where she…he worked part-time, and Clayton had a meet-up with a friend in the military who promised to sell him “materials” which no one could purchase elsewhere. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or terrified. But my evening was wide open.

I took the bus in front of the college across town to where Lissa lived. I admired the new theater at my stop, I’d never had a chance to go and the prices were out of my range but I’d heard plenty about the plush seats, fancy foods, and late showings with a wide range of microbrews served during the independent, arthouse fare. I’d heard about nothing else during my film history course a quarter ago.

All the restaurants were unfamiliar to me, opened since the revitalization of this side of town. I smiled at the candy store and lingered at the frozen yogurt shop. A band tuned up in front of a high-end restaurant with pipes snaking on the ceiling and a line out the door. I passed a Chinese restaurant I remembered visiting long ago with...family. The owner was a kindly old lady who always called me “big boy”. Her food was greasy but amazing. The place had passed through at least a dozen hands since then. I felt a pulse of melancholy about how many things were different now.

I gazed at the new museum down the way which I’d only visited once. I watched the people coming and going from the county library. It was just another street up and over to Lissa’s house. Her area wasn’t too old. The park her house faced was one of the nicest in the area with a large soccer field and a scenic view of the lower valley. I stopped a moment to gawk before heading the rest of the way.

Like all the houses in the tract, Lissa’s one-story house had various tones of earthen-brown with white trim and terra cotta roof tiles. The front walkway was the longest on the block, with enough room for several wicker chairs and plants. I just needed to knock once before she answered, waving at me and pushing a drink in a plastic cup into my hands. It smelled fruity but non-alcoholic.

Lissa noticed my sniffing and remarked, “It’s just punch. We can be a little more adventurous when Quilla has gone to bed. For now, the burgers.” I left my shoes by the door and followed Lissa into the kitchen, where Quilla was seated at the table. She wore a dark-purple ninja outfit that covered her body and most of her face. Her long, auburn locks spilled out the back.

Quilla who, if my mental count was right, had to be five by now, waved covertly at me and said softly, “Hi, Sean…I am veggie ninja.”

I glanced at Lissa, who sipped from her own cup of punch. She went over to the stove, where plumes of smoke billowed out, and turned the burgers. I noticed they looked unusual.

Lissa served out a “veggie” burger for Quilla and a “buffalo” burger for herself. “Veggie” fries and normal, potato ones came next. I decided to go with the same thing Lissa was having, which she cooked up medium for me.

I had to wonder about the genesis of all this. The food was easily explained by Lissa working at a health food store. She added, “Employee discount on clearance items. It’s good for a bit but then no one will buy it if it gets too close to the date. It’s still good and even better at half-price, especially with what we usually charge.”

I got a bit of soy cheese over the patty and a whole-grain bun. It definitely wasn’t the sort of thing I would usually eat but it worked. Quilla had to peel back her mask for her burger. She started it with combat gusto, slicing with her teeth. Then, slowly, her enthusiasm waned. She looked at it with a sour expression, sighed, and solemnly said, “Veggie ninja quits.”

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Lissa rested her hand on her chin and pronounced, “And so ends the brief-but-storied adventures. I would hope veggie ninja retired will still respect the honor of fresh veggies…”

Quilla bowed her head. “Aye…but veggie ninja no like burger veggie.”

By sleight of hand, Lissa produced a burger for Quilla which was more to her liking. She kicked her legs up under the table and leaned back in her chair with a smile. I couldn’t help but smile too.

At this point in the meal, I was clued into the whole veggie ninja thing. It was part something from a book Quilla read and part something Lissa had encouraged on her own. An assassin who consumed all vegetables with her force of will. Or at least those veggies not in burger form. When she was done, Quilla hopped up and set about cleaning her plate in the sink. Then she bowed to me and said, “I am needed in the Kingdom of Veggie, Sean! Namaste!” And she was gone.

Lissa swirled her punch and noted, “I’m working on what it’ll be next. She’s still well into pirates but I think a mix of science and magic might be fun. She thinks she can put a bit of stuff, like a clock, inside building blocks and give it the right shape and it becomes a robot. Next Christmas, she’s definitely getting a real robot kit like I’ve seen online.”

All I could do was lean back and say, “She’s really amazing. I can’t even remember myself at that age.”

Raising an eyebrow, Lissa asked, “Really? You don’t remember being six?”

Off by a year. I sighed. I remembered I was six but there wasn’t much I could pick out of it. It wasn’t a fun time in my life. I told Lissa as much. Family. My health growing up. Monetary troubles. I tried not to think too much of the time before I moved in with my uncle.

Lissa laid her hands on the table. “That sucks. But then my childhood wasn’t exactly fun either. And my teen years didn’t get better. And then I just barreled into Michael at the end of them.” She gave a wry smirk. I dipped my fries and ate slowly. I wasn’t sure what to offer. She cleared her throat and quipped, “Well, that was a dumb thing for me to say. How about we talk about religion next?”

I bowed my head and assured her, “It’s fine. I know that Michael is still on your mind. I just…I just want you to know I didn’t feel intimidated by him, despite all the stuff he said to me.” And it was a lot.

Lissa twirled a fry. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I mean I was always intimidated by him, like a moth drawn by a flame. It just took too long for me to realize our extremes didn’t balance out by being together. They just got worse. And it’s over and he’s happy and I am so very happy, and I have Quilla. But…”

She groaned and remarked, “This is becoming laying-stuff-on-my-friend therapy, isn’t it?” I shrugged and assured her I didn’t mind. She continued, “I’ve taken to yelling ‘asshole’ under my breath when I get irritated. The only swear I can’t get mom mode to suppress for me. It’s too cathartic. But Quilla knows it’s not a word for her, it’s a word for mom. And she’s also figured it’s a word about Michael because she’ll reflexively ask if it’s about ‘dad’.”

Between her words, Lissa offered to cook something else if I was still hungry. I asked for a few more fries to keep her occupied. By the time they were ready, she put the question to me, “Am I a bad mom for making Michael like that for her?” It wasn’t a question I could answer but I let Lissa talk till she seemed to come to an ending.

After that, I asked her, “You said you’re both happier. All happier. Right?”

She nodded and I held out my hand. She shrugged and remarked, “But I’m still worried that I’m fudging up Quilla. I love my daughter. I know Michael will support her, but he never really was interested in her. But what’s gonna happen? I mean I barely know jack…I’ve proven that in so many ways to so many people…” She trailed off and pressed her lips together.

I leaned across the table and told her clearly, “I’ve come to visit all these times and I know it would be completely fantastic to have you for a mom if I were in Quilla’s shoes.”

I dunno if I said the right thing but Lissa relaxed a bit and seemed to let her worries slide as she announced, “And now for an absolute non-sequitur…what kind of boobs would you prefer as an anime girl?”

I offered up a grimace, but Lissa wouldn’t take that for an answer. So, I asked her, “What happened to Quilla’s war against salt?”

She swiftly replied, “It’s still in progress but the ninja thing captivated her today. Plus, veggies keep her away from the ‘evils’ of salt and whatnot. And ninja powers allow her to hide away from shakers. So, what about your future boobs?”

I thought about the posters I had on my walls. Some, I didn’t want to look like. Not that it would matter, since we were tied to whatever the appearances were of the volunteers recorded in the device. I gave this for my answer.

Lissa snorted and waved a hand. “Yeah yeah…but…if you had any choice? Tell me your ideal.” Her expression was calm, and her eyes seemed genuinely curious. She wasn’t asking to tease me. Well, just to tease me. I was able to keep myself from stammering and held my head down, but I couldn’t delay answering forever.

“Well, first of all, there’s a lot of things to take into consideration. I mean, I don’t know what my feelings will be to what seems like a good idea in my head when I’m wearing it as a body. I think…mostly, if I’m going to be altered by the thing then I want to make sure that it’s clear I’m changed and there’s no confusion.”

With a nod, Lissa parsed that as, “You don’t want to just look like a girly boy like your roommate. Got it. So big enough to show but you don’t sound like you want to be flashy about it…then you definitely don’t want to be as big as my friend from work who does inventory.”

I wasn’t sure who Lissa meant but that didn’t keep her from continuing, “Oh and by the way, that reminds me, same friend posted her boobs in various ways on a photo feed because random, risqué comments amuse her. Then, one day, she found out that news sites and even one TV network had used one of the cleaner images as a stock photo for breast-reduction surgery. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be annoyed. So just be careful what you put out there if you’re into posting photos online….once you start using the device.”

The thought never really occurred to me. I had a few photos online, but they were mostly event photos for friends and stuff for my uncle to see when I didn’t get a chance to call him. Still, I acknowledged Lissa’s warning and promised to “be careful”. She gave me a motherly nod and then smirked, asking again, “So...these ‘not too much but enough to show’ boobs of yours…what will they be like?”

I hadn’t gotten out of her question. I sighed and figured I would have to resort to hand motions. I cupped myself while clearing my throat and stretched my hands out slightly. I had no idea what I was doing but I made sure not to stretch out too far and make myself look like a perv.

Lissa shrugged and offered, “For me…I’m gonna at least try on the biggest fun buns I can manage with the best figure. Then I’ll work on what feels comfortable from there, but I figure I’ll upsize myself a little bit.” I didn’t have any problems with how Lissa’s chest looked. It took me a moment to find the words, “You look lovely as you are.”

That earned a little flick of the tongue from Lissa and a recount of the details of what happens to parts of the female body after pregnancy, capped by, “I like my body. My body’s trials are me but why not slip into something else for a while and see how it feels?”

I agreed with her and offered that was what I was getting out of it as well. Which wasn’t what I said to Allison, but Lissa was satisfied with that answer.