Aina

Aina, myself as a dearly loved one... I sway secure.

It's me. Aina Marie. You have been waiting for me to squeak, little mouse that I am.

So here I squeak. What can I tell you about myself, except that I am a quiet, modest girl.

Do you want me to tell you what I think about. I think about this all the time, so perhaps it is no surprise that it is the first thing that I can think about, to write about. Here, for you...

I am madly in love with my older sister's man. He is also my man. His name be Emmie, but I also call him Barteby, for this is actually his name. So his name is Bartholomew, but I don't like the sound of that, so I have always called him Barteby. He does not like the name Emmie, or Dunce, which is what my sister Dora do call him all of the time. He seems to endure this. She is so rude. She is offhand to me, which is okay. But actually, apart from Kyra, whom she must love more than anybody, besides me (for I know that Dora loves me most. See it in her eyes, when she looks so sad. She never gets the sad look with Kyra, so I try to keep Kyra as close to me as possible.), Dora be difficult for all people. Kyra is my closest friend, but I love Emmie. Cannot escape calling him that, for although I know he does not like this name, I like it, for it is a cheerful name.

So, there you have it.

I don't what else to tell you that you need to know about me. I think that maybe I make something up, for I must write this! I'm so bored at the moment. So, I tell you a story? Shall this be fact or fiction. I'm only fifteen, so I can't decide which would be for the best. My actual story? Perhaps not, and instead I make up some fake, much more interesting story. Don't know. I'm so distracted. If Kyra was not here beside me while I do this, I would make something up, but don't expect that she will allow this, so I stick to real things.

 

Because she did jab me with a pencil, I fight back by telling you about her. Ha! She doesn't like this and I'm breathless, as usual. Actually, I am, for I am athsmatic. I'm a weak, little sick girl. Kyra, she's very much the opposite. She seems to have this luck, where she never gets sick. What a stinker, I think, because sometimes I get breathless. Emmie? He also never gets sick. He has a bad cough, but what can you expect? He smokes so much dope, man what he is, is a dope fiend. Kyra always steals from his plants, so we are also mini-dope fiends.

Dora, she is the queen fiend, as she smokes a rooftop. She has so much cancer that dope for her is a necessary thing. For me, it's not such a good idea, on account of my athsma. In actuality, Kyra and me, we don't smoke that much! Don't get funny ideas. We are stilly silly girls! Whoa, however, do we do them. Yeah, we do. Them be other things that only girls will talk about with each other in utter secrecy! You want to know what these things are, natch? Oh, how typical. But all fiction. For me at least, but Kyra loves to string a tale about a tail attached to the cat that fought back. Vicious he was, this cat. Kyra, she like to study this cat, to learn his style. Then she gets this cat-like look, and I know that it's all for play.

 

Did you know that I am so very much like my sister in exactly one way? It is this way that Kyra exploits with her so called exploits with the whole cat business. This cat. Boy does he roam! There you go, you understand. No?

We are mad as cats. Dora and me. Have always been. I am the quiet stormy type. But not she. How noisy this sister of mine can be. I myself do squeak, but Dora is predisposed to roar. She get off on a tangent and Emmie just pours the booze. He has complete control concerning matters of pouring, but sometimes, it is myself or Kyra that carry the jar to the old girl. This be Dora if you don't know! So what we do is take a sip here and there. If the sip be big, and it's me that occupy myself with carrying, then it must have been a bit of hand-shake, but Kyra? No, she take a sip in front of Dora, which I could never carry off. She claims that she is testing it to make certain that Emmie has not slipped in some potion, and Dora, she always smile about this.

Kyra has gone for the moment so I quickly slip in extra words, here. I write this and stick it in, so this is afterward. Emmie tells mne that I can do this, but not to say anything about it, but I feel obligated to do so, for the sake of being honest. Are you ready? So, I do this because I doubt very much that Kyra return to this early text. She does not know that Emmie has given me this advice, so she assumes that when I squeak it is entirely linear. But! This is not so anymore. Do squeak in a non-linear fashion. How I DO love this compound word! Understand it perfectly, for I am SO non-linear. So here be the big secret that I divulge about my darling pally Kyra. She use eye movements to pacify Dora. She tell me about this but swear me to secrecy about it. Like I care! She never do this to me, only Dora and Devon, her older brother. She never do this to Emmie, ever, by the way. Expect that she is afraid to. He know all about this trick. But for some reason, Dora does not. Truly. There you have it. Kyra, she do this little eye trick all the time to freak out, or placate, depending on her mood.

Don't make the mistake that Kyra is moody, because I use the word mood. Me, I am diosordered, so to Dora. We be crazy as cats, remember?

So, after a few trips, Kyra, she is ready to jet about. But for me, one or two sips, here and there, that's enough. Emmie, he drinks only rarely, and only the best. But, Dora, she be so cheap that all she likes to drink is cheap boozecan brands like de Kuyper. In actuality, Dora has no taste, and if you need this proof, come over for dinner. You find out for yourself how tasteless food can be. Dora, she can eat paste, and she forces all of us to join her. You might ask why, since Emmie is absolutely a cordon-bleu man with cuisine. Dora, she have control, and does entertain herself by watching us endure some paste, or really terrible fish like carp. Full of little bones, this fish is. Fit for cats, I do surmise.

Kyra, she delights in all of this. She is a most versatile girl and does always laugh when everybody groans as a plate full of some droopy, pasty slop is brought out of the ruin that serves as a kitchen, by Dora's minions. They too, do seem to eat the paste. However, they do so at a bench in the kitchen, while we take our meals in a dining room with a table so long you could ride a bicycle on it for a few seconds at least. Devon did do so once, and did also get a brick-laying experience for this little trouble. For, it is an old, distinguished table. That is, I suppose, if an inanimate object can be distinguished. Not exactly certain about this.

Can I stop yet?

***

Hi there, square peg! You stilly? What you here for? I am here because I did forget something and now am forced by c-sati queen to do scool work. She is so full of it! She does actually believe that I have school work to do, although I insist that I am entirely without such a burden! So, now I pretend that I am working on an essay about oversimplification, which actually, Emmy talks about, so I am thinking about him, now as I tell you about oversimplification. But, do not mistake that this have anything at all to do with scool, because no way we be taught about this, there.

 

Here, instead, it be Emmie that do talk about this. He actually tell it to Kyra, and she is all knowledge about it, and does have big chat on the subject. She also do like Emmie, but she know that he is mine, and do everything to help me with my own plans to conquer him, naturally. Kyra is so understanding in this way! In fact, she does all of the orchestration. In actuality, she does orchestrate, for she is a savant. I am also musical in a very hubda fashion, but Kyra is the force! But I DO oversimplfy! For there are layers... It is the opposite of simplification, in actuality. Simplification is all about layers fading out of existence, and what happens to other layers when one does fade away. You know, like a bigger mite coming to chomp on spider mites. Or the Zebra mussel absorbing iron and depleting the supply to the most important layer of all, so eat carp, because there be no more cod. Kyra and Emmie are all about layers. Never did you see two minds work so well together as these two. I stay all silent and do absorb, and also understand. You do not know that. Perhaps do not believe it, but it is the truth. I do understand, all about layers and simplification. Do expect that you do not, however, but you are welcome to try.

Kyra laughs as she reads over my shoulder. Other word descriptor for her would be subtle, for she is so very. Her brother, he is very much the opposite. Do not much care for Devon, but it's not so bad. He is almost never around, since Dora can't stand him. Not actually his fault. Dora loathes men. Truly, she does. She regards men as completely useless. She not be yet thirty, but she is a vicious old trout when it comes to men. To them she assigns the most degrading, time wasting tasks. To the women she assigns much more pleasant tasks, mostly concerning the making of clothing articles. No rag be sacrificed. No girl be without wollens, and we wear such fine things. The men, they wear whatever they get, and if they want to look like a spivvy, it be for them to go out and swipe some other cloth, for Dora, she have no concern about what they wear. It be their problem if they get some fine thing and then be sent out to dig some mud.

On some occasions, I discover myself certain that Dora does cause factions to emerge, so that she can reduce numbers. She is most tactical about this, does promise some great reward, but then goes stingy with the remaining victors just in time to cause a new fight with the next layer of stooges. For every reduction, she does make a little celebration, so we celebrate as well. She jokes about developing oblique strategies for export to places where people have been stupid enough to overproduce males. For, how well she does know about this sort of thing! So, we know as well, for it is her prevailing blow! As for Emmie, he be in a special category. For all her torments toward him, Dora does feel this.

As for myself. Do love him so much that I am like a girl blindfolded. For Emmie has always been so very dear and gentle with me. So easy. Kyra and Emmie are so alike in this way. For though she can be a bully, she tends toward protectiveness, and this is all for good, for I am a sickly girl and do need her constant strength. She be unfailing in this regard. Emmie, he be also, so I be a lucky shiggy!

***

I did almost nothing today. In all of this, however, do sense an inner restlessness that I cannot escape. Kyra is off somewhere. Probably why I feel so restless. Kyra, she have this funny way my sestra and myself. There. I do admit it. So when Kyra goes away, I am left with almost nothing, so I wander around, look a all the chipped plaster accumulating on the floors in the upstairs hallway. Sometimes, I go to find Emmie, and ask for a special favour. This always amounts to the same thing, but he always acquiesces. So whenever I want to wander, he takes me there. I have my list of places that I like to visit. My favourite trip, he also agrees to it being his favourite, thus do we go together, to visit his daughter. For we know this, that she is his daughter, this girl. By special arrangement this was. I do not get this from him, mind you, but from others. We all squarrel over this man. All of the knitting ladies. I do not like to know, more my proclivity to prefer to sew. But I am no ornamentalist. I prefer to make garments, with not a hint of detail.

I am not exactly in the mood to see Carol. This be his daughter. No, instead do wish to walk to Crotona, arm in arm, with Emmie. If it be rainy, or windy, prefer to stay indoors. If there be no companion, I always stay indoors.

Since I did not find him, back to my room. Did walk the halls for a while, but saw nobody at all. Maybe a rat or two, and many cats. But not mine, amongst this group. So, all alone, I stare.

Do look at myself. I look at my markings. Do I look like a cat? No, I don't think this about myself. Feel like a gentle sheep. Or, rather, wish to. I dream of having children. Emmie is always the father. For some reason, Kyra is always the mother, and my children are my siblings. How strange my thoughts are.

Emmie once told me exactly how my mind works. Since he shape my thoughts from my wee childhood time, does not surprise me when he tells me about how my mind works. Do expect it from him. He tell me that because of my unique mind, it be best to find expression as present events as opposed to declamation, which he says be more suited to Dora. He say that my cognition be thwarted by tiered structure, that in some instance, best to flow. To not worry about structure so much. Instead to flow.

I do exist as a cognitive person, he quip, no question. However, this find its own expression. Also he declare that my own process be as effective in the long run, as any method employed by other people, so long as I fill the train, so to speak, with balancing elements for the purpose of joining and unjoining disparate bursts of thought.

Thusly, can do my job to express.

In actuality, most time that I spend with Emmie, he teach me to think, to stretch. For example, he say that the more time that I spend to write, and the more time to spend to organize words, to fill and chop, that these thing be handy to learn art to make squeak to speech! He also do something for me that I indeed treasure. This he do by prising phrases and placing into ordinary language. Oh, how he is a wonderful translator of mine own speech! I do enjoy this. For he always calm and easy. Oftentimes, others lose patience with me and frustration thus do I experience on a constant basis. So do squeek. And now, lately, to write!

Emmie, he do one additional thing to all this. Would say that it be the most important of all. I love to look him in the eyes. He look at me, can read me. Does know when I am feeling so broken down. He have the most calming expression for me. Do not always see this in him with others, for he is versatile, sometimes to storm. With Dora, but also, with daredevil one. That be Kyra. She does get very tough and mean with things, and Emmie, he do straighten her about this. But Kyra, she fight back. She only be like this on occasion, but can be forceful. So Emmie, he go and make her come back. He make her concede. She do this, does always do so. For her, just the same as for myself, to have his eyes. Kyra, she want to have the sense that he constrain her. She like to feel this. That he will. For Devon, she get nothing at all concerning constraint. He, by contrast quite provocative. Do not like this, for it frightens me when these two get going. Only happen in small crumbs, for this Devon, he do always jet off, after a while. Expect that even he have some limits. Kyra, she have none, would seem. Do expect that were I not made more complete by her, that she would wear me away. But, not like this, with her, at all. She do one thing for me that make my life infinitely easy. She happy as a pea to be so. Here she speak for me. Does always chime.

Dora, she different. She does never speak for me, but rather, do force me to remind myself of conventions, and to make translation prior to squeaking. She try to do the one thing that Emmie suggests to avoid, which is to engage self to declaim.

In actuality, myself proficient with many subjects. Language, that be my facility. My problem be abundance. Thus do I make my declaration. Emmie do remind me that it is my choice to which language I think within. That also, present and future tense be adequate in construction for so long as the object exists. Thus, can convert to present mode just about anything, including the abstract. With proper coding instructions, it is always possible, he does observe.

***

I do intend to write more often. However, myself sickly thus while occupied with no tasks. Did nothing. This for days. Not exactly sprightly, but soon healthful myself to be! Emmie, he tend to me during sickness. Do refuse touch of others. Thus, Emmie, he be on the spot for my care. He happy to do so, thus myself in actuality do not mind to be poorly. For sestra, he also attentive. Thus on occasion, myself forced to wait! Not on previous, mind. For Dora sprightly at the moment! Also, unusual she quiet and contemplative. So, for past fortnight, myself at roost and Dora contemplative, only noise be Kyra.

Kyra, she live with mamka, but them nearby! She live in small apt. over three doors away. There be nothing at these doors, save for Dora's property. These all connected by internal doors. Only Dora be interested in them room contents. However, she occasionally indicate that such contents be mine so far as they her objects. Stilly whole unoccupied with them contents. Although this day different, for Dora do decide that self maturation soon, thus to myself to begin to occupy myself with these contents.

I be return now to roost after occupation with matters of storage contents. Self and Kyra did have extended occupation of these rooms. Did find several costumes, and Dora waylaid by our interest! She did allow Kyra to keep several pekne formal fashions. How we did entertain all with our fashion-show! However, soon did fade to roost on account of breathlessness. So now no squeak save for words to PC!

Kyra, she be beside me now. Thus she do read my words! She be happy to occupy herself thusly, and did recently give a boost! This by her cheerfulness concerning these words. She replete self within happiness for my progress! She denote such joy with hug and does also kiss me on the forehead. This be for the first time. She does also look at me with controlling eyes, and thus do myself become consoled. For she know exactly how to make for such expression. Soon to slumber, and with relief, consider with return to more robust strength in the days to come, with each restful sleep.

***

I do not squeak for an extended time. I am sorry for this, but at the moment, am very unwell. I do catch silent expression between Emmie and Kyra concerning myself. Did have a breakdown also concerning stress with Dora. Thus, did decide that my time thus forward be concerned with the occupation of Kyra, that also we both abandon scool obligations. For otherwise we be occupied with limited moments that stand before me.

In the first instance it is decided that Kyra and myself to occupy a favoured space within Charlotte. This be rooms with most elevating views, thus discovered by ourselves in a survey of all roosts. This be fair to Dora, surprise! Within roost to detail thus did Emmie apply himself. He make careful work in wall repair and did also install a snappy kitchen and also bath facilities. These latter he did assemble out of the finest fixtures and by careful assembly do we have a most luxy space! It be very quiet in our corner, and for this, myself discover peace and solitude and a sense of place that Kyra and myself, we fill with our heart and soul music. Kyra, she never far, for the entire days that I be least sprightly. But also, she does occupy with Emmie to attend to roost provisions! Thuswise, do we make our own affairs!

Although she be my closest consolation, Kyra not occupy mine own niche. For this, myself entirely do seek the comforting presence of Emmie. And here, in extended moments, altogether in the occasion of my most profound disability, he be there, to entrain me in therapy to assist my breath. He always careful to make calm disposition, but myself know Emmie. Can detect his depth of sorrow, and also, his careful attention to avoid such display. For unto thus do we cascade into quiet sorrow. For a man so strong in certain ways, he does betray a sense of deep sorrow, in actuality, despair, as he find before him such a sickly girl. This also be sorrow by Kyra, in amplification. Dora, she also fearful about my persistence to not thrive.

Myself do understand that mine own occupation here, as a living spirit bound by my ability to thrive, and am always happy to be secure in good health.

How I do wish that there be contained here some kernel of hope. In its stead, my own consolation is found in those most silent occasions, to be held close by Emmie, to find thus a moment or two in all where time does seem to stand still. Perhaps, to sleep, to most secure. To feel the warmth of his hand as he holds my hand, or, also, the coolness of same hand, as he places it on my forehead. To seek out and find his eyes, and to find myself lost therein, such deep, beautiful pools of blue, so much like my own eyes. Thus do I find my greatest release. This be so simple altogether.

***

That be the day! Did find also sprightly step upon waking and altogether, myself feel strengthened!

***

There be no question in my mind that I be faltering. Do look at words prior and wonder... How long did this sprightly feeling last? In it thus suggest for but the briefest while. My solice found in the quietness of my room. There be nothing occupying my room, except for my roost! There be no lamp-light, but no curtains, either, thus does the star shine through glass. Kyra she be gone these days, thus does Dora minister to me, herself. Emmie, he also a presence, for it is his hands that do touch me to help me to breathe. He be prepared to do such at a moment's notice, thus do Emmie and Dora do something that is rare, these moments, that is, to spend time in each other's company. Thus they leastways be polite for the sake of my own tranquility. Dora, she seems straightened by the veracity that, like the star in the night-sky, my life twinkles in apparence. She be likely to survive me. I be sickly divka.

I be calm in disposition toward such truth. My own situation, my existing moment, it be satisfied. It also does something to me. It exists to say, this is all past. Aina, it is past. Emmie, he talks to me about much now, since my squeak soft and laboured. My breathing, a conscious effort. Thus do I listen, and thus does he speak. Myself certain that in these details (all very personal!) he reveal to me information that he wishes that I understand concerning terra. The earth. Our world. Emmie explains to me about how I am, to him, the last girl on earth. That he did know this about me when he did first cast eyes upon me. Emmie, he also reveal that he die, along with me, and that we engage there in a companion trip. He dies also whisper, f.. o.. m.. a.. ... You are FOMA, he says.

Forever, Marie... mne Aina.

Did thus smile. He give me what I crave, at the moment. Complete eye contact. I know this, I tell him. Did always understand about this. Always did know that he is my ultimate. For that matter, he be the only, utterly so. I sway secure and not at all upset that there be no actualization. Though I be a young woman, I see no purpose in furtherance, for we be occupying a niche where such physicalities, outside of an outcome, develop negligibility. For myself, to sway secure is to exist in a mode that occupies my living memory. Dora, she also be of gentle touch. For her sharp words, she in actuality entirely gentle toward my person. When she consign me to Emmie for the first time (I have a clear memory of this moment) she do so with a tacit understanding that whomsoever does hold me do so with extreme care, and gentleness.

My life, short perhaps, is entirely replete. There be nothing for me to do, except breathe, do suppose. I do not miss what I will not have, but do believe that I understand perfectly that my own moment, it be extended through a life-giving touch that Emmie imparts to my own self, but also toward my sister! Kyra, she is also life-giving and my dear protector. An entire dimension of my inner life is constructed around the moments that komrade Kyra and I share. Do miss her absences.

***

Myself feeling middling, thus was parcelled into one costume or another, for the occasion of a special visit from Emmie's flesh, Karolina. Have not seen her in a while, but did we joke about! Carol, she come to look more like Emmie with each passing day. She have everything from him save for his nose. Her nose be more like her mama, but in all other ways, she does resemble her papa. Her face be oval, so placid and beautiful. My face more sculpted and angular, but otherwise I look very much like Emmie, though this be coincidence. Thus do understand that Carol, she look much like me! She be such a different person. I be skittish and suppose, energetic when I had the breath for it. Carol, she more disposed toward tranquility.

Does occur to me when I see her, that Carol and Kyra both did follow me. Both be special to Emmie, but I am the last girl to him. Thus in his heart more dear than his own spawn. I am his dearly loved one, his Darla. As said, did always know this. Chose him for so much as I expect Kyra chose Dora.

Truly, she did. Do expect that Dora considers Kyra her own choice for a companion trip. Do not know exactly what constitutes such a trip, but understand perfectly that such trips are a rarity. Myself not certain about who gets one, and why. Surmise that soon to know such matters, duly to report, do suppose.

***

Yesterday did Kyra return. She been gone to difficulties, and in her return, did retreat. Thus did she return to me. And not soon enough, for I grow so tired of Dora so quickly, on some occasions. But Kyra, she need ministration, thus did I find myself consoling her. She did abandon to ruin one edifice or two, and for all of her sway, did also find trepidation, but would not disclose any more than a look. No language do the two of us need when we have each other's eyes. Stilly, her core she is intact, and soon replete after a calm spell. Did so enjoy these silent hours.

Thus Kyra be changed. And so discovering, did she decide to reduce such trips that she heretofore did enjoy as a solo stinger. This not to be anymore, she declared. She be transformed into a mouse, keep low to have some respite. She discovers in fits and starts, do suppose.

***

It has been such a long time since I wrote last. I am barely capable of it, now, but do so to keep you, reader, apprised. Somewhere along the way, I abandoned the notion of Kyra's that I write in the present tense exclusively. This was her idea about how to adapt thought and speech to make it more universally understandable. I suppose it is something that she discovered, by the bye, while conversing with the various and sundry that mark time within these walls.

Since I doubt these words will ever be translated, I abandon a mode that must have made me seem simple-minded. Surely, you doubt that. I may stoop here (and it's not quite my idea about how to describe myself as a young woman, but it is accurate) in a state of disintegration, but I need not allow you to dismiss my words as those of a simpleton. I don't suppose it's possible for me to offer an apparence of such, any more.

I am certain that Kyra will be annoyed by this. I consign these words to her and she may do with them as she pleases. I don't suppose it matters much. It certainly matters not at all to me.

Emmie calls me his living doll. Old habit, but I have always loved it. It's no secret either. But as I look at myself in the mirror, I don't see it any more. My girlishness has passed, and in its stead, I gaze at the woman, so premature to this status. I am living, but would more easily describe myself as an unfinished work, a statuette, incomplete, inviolate, and, increasingly, in mourning for my own absent fecundity, skeletal, with failing hands and eyesight.

Along the way between international-speak and this moment, it became obvious to me that my own acceleration toward the ultimate had, in effect, drawn my man into my greatest intimacies. This occurence, gradual, but again, eventually obvious, was a necessary thing, for in my moments of greatest illness, he tended to me from moment-to-moment. It is what filled the meantime. The intimacy comes from accepting the touch of another, for most. It's not a matter of accepting his touch, for I crave it. But rather, it is something far deeper, something that I always avoided, telepathy.

He must have known that I was a high esper from our first contact. He must have also known that I suppressed it, and when Kyra entered the picture, his telepathic attentions turned to her. But in those long hours and days when I could not speak, he began with me, and the experience made me feel rather regretful for having resisted it for so long. For in those hours, when I could do little more but remind myself to breathe, he sent me musical progressions that were unique, and entirely perfect. Little by little, he extended my own consciousness into a mode consistent with his own, and thus did I begin first by harmonizing to, in time, leading. Words soon followed, modal terms, I suppose. Only a fraction away from tone, but entirely lucid and wonderfully simple.

It was then that a true exploration of intimacy began for me. His most intimate subject filled the void left by my failing body, and by measures, I came to understand how I had always been the sister with the potential to participate in an intimacy, that Dora could never be receptive in this way, how Kyra, with her far greater potential for telepathy could never engage Emmie in the manner that I found myself engaged.

If there is a suitable word to use here to decribe that aspect most profound in all of this, it would be engagement. For as I would come to understand, in its very entirely, that is what I became, and what Dora accepted. That I would predecease her, and with my passing, so too would BHEN, if only by some measure. But in my final hours and days, he would be entirely mine.

***

A Lapse... And the words she wrote.

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