Chapter 5: Revelations

When I returned to the room, Dana was by the window--smoking--with a cup of coffee on the window sill. I filled a cup for myself, and lighting a cigarette, took a position next to her, watching the city lights, and listening to the traffic. After a few sips, I finished my coffee, and placed it next to her cup. There was something nagging at the back of my mind about Dana... That kept me coming back to why she was trying to help me, help us... But, it kept evading me.

It was Dana, who broke the silence.

"Mitchell, since you seem to have a very good memory, I want to check something. Are you sure she was talking about the present time, when she talked about the pilot she was involved with?"

"Well, I'm very sure she said 'He loves me'. There was no mistaking that... She meant, now. Also, she didn't talk as if she was talking about the past. At least that's the impression I got. Why? Is it important?"

At my question, she flashed a strained smile, and said, "Let's finish our smoke and coffee, then talk about it. There's no need to rush things."

I accepted her reasoning, and changed the subject. "You know, you're very good. Is it nursing training that makes you so good?"

"Partly, I guess."

"I think, you are a remarkable woman. You're kind, and you care about people. What made you quit?" I asked.

"You are an interesting young man, Mitch. You see things others don't. Why did I quit nursing school? I guess, I couldn't handle the misery and suffering. I wanted to help but... After talking to a few nurses, and spending time in the hospitals--observing--I realized the pay was lousy, the hours were long, and the emotional burden was overwhelming. I was too young to be able to deal with it. Now, I get to see the world, different people, and sometimes I'm able to do something nice, and help people. Best of both worlds."

"I have to say, you're doing a very good job of it. I don't talk... about things... and yet..."

As I was saying those words, my mind got busy with her words as they seem to ring a bell... the things that were nagging at me since the airport... There was a faint glimpse of something... but what?

"You are reserved. You don't make friends easily, do you?"

"I used to... well, to a certain degree... But in the last few years..."

"I understand... It must have been a difficult period."

"We all carry our own wounds..." I told her, and then on a hunch, I added, "You seem to cope with yours very well."

Her eyes shot wide open in shock. I took a step, and pulled her against my chest, gathering her in my arms, before she had a chance to react. I hugged her to me firmly, trying to make her feel safe, secure, sheltered. Leaning in to smell her fragrant hair, I whispered, "It's all right, Dana. It's all right. Tell me about it."

I kept rocking her, and after her initial shock was over, she relaxed into my arms. She looked up to ask, "How did you know?"

"I'm not sure. It was something nagging at the back of my mind. How things happened in the airport, then here in the hotel. Your apparent concern. And how you seem to understand and how we seem to connect... Little things that didn't fit. You are a very beautiful and caring person. Very kind and generous. And you don't hide those qualities. But, you don't seem to have anybody in your life. I couldn't see why, unless... you didn't want them. That made me think."

She seemed to accept my explanation. She laid her head on my chest, and wrapped her arms around me, relaxing herself into my embrace. It felt good to hold her in my arms, and I couldn't help but wonder about the differences between two women... and the similarities...

Come on, pay attention. She's not here. Don't day dream! Dana's here and she needs you. Now! You know she's worth it. Be in the moment.

My inner voice was right. I needed to be with her, right this moment. After several minutes, she extracted herself from my arms, giving me a rueful smile.

"I think it's my turn to ask; do you want to talk about it?" I said, trying to lighten the mood.

Her smile was much warmer, but she replied, "Not yet." Seeing the disapproving look on my face, she added, "But I promise, I will... OK?"

"I will hold you to that."

That earned me a laugh, "Somehow I know you will, so I won't even attempt to evade."

I took hold of her hand and gave it a kiss, sharing a tender and special moment. Picking our cups, we took our respective seats, me on the armchair and she on her bed.

"You said she was hurt," Dana said, "and perhaps using the men. I think you are right. From what I had seen of her relations, she moved on without a second thought, but..." She paused to think about what she wanted to say next, and continued with a question. "Did you ever wonder if she was self-destructive, perhaps punishing herself?"

Huh?

I wasn't expecting that question, because it came from left field, without any warning at all. I could hear the gears turning in my mind to assess the question, looking for clues, trying to come up with an analysis.

"Stop! Mitch, stop. Don't rush it."

As soon as she had my attention, she urged me to calm down. "Easy Mitch, take your time."

"You caught me with that question. What made you ask that?"

"I'll explain, but you need to be calm. There's something you don't know. It kind of changes the picture. I don't want you to get worked up, and lose concentration or... get your hopes up."

Hope? Get my hopes up? For what?

I was getting agitated by her cryptic words, but remembering her warning, I tried to calm myself. I closed my eyes, and took a walk along the beach, doing my shallow breathing, and watching the sunset. Strangely enough, I managed to do my exercise very quickly, maybe because I was with a friend, and in a place where I felt comfortable, safe and secure. When I opened my eyes, I saw her watching me. She got off the bed, and knelt by my side. Taking hold of my wrist, she found my pulse... and measured it. When she was finished, she was chuckling.

"Strong and steady pulse. Lower than normal, as if you're resting. Is it difficult to learn?"

"The basic part isn't. It's a matter of breathing evenly, and conjuring a place you feel comfortable, relaxed, and safe. There are advanced levels of breathing exercises, and techniques to empty your mind, or help you conjure up a place. I haven't learned all the mental techniques, I just know a bit about how they are supposed to work. But, I have good memories of places that I can recall and concentrate on. I know some of the breathing exercises. You might want to pick up Yoga. It teaches you how to relax your muscles, and how to breathe."

I knew some advanced mental techniques, but I didn't want to talk about them. I had experimented when my training required, but I hadn't felt comfortable. I had put them aside long time ago, and never picked them up since then.

"Did you practice Yoga?"

"Uhh... No... not really."

Go, it was long ago! It had scared the shit out of me that first time, when I had touched 'it.' The second time hadn't been bad. At least, I had discovered its true nature...

But, what use is it to go there? Unless, I need the edge. Perhaps, Sensei was right when he said I would find it if I ever need it.

I had kept at it a few times more, practicing, getting to know it, but still, I had been reluctant in my forays, before I finally quit all together.

She gave me a quizzical look, but decided not to delve further. Picking up an ashtray, she placed it on the nightstand, where she could reach. She lit a cigarette, passed it to me, and lit another one for herself. I wondered if the gesture was to make me feel more comfortable. If it was, she was doing a very good job of it.

"Are you afraid of shocking me?" I asked.

"Was I that obvious?" she responded, amused.

"No, not really. I think I'm recognizing patterns."

"I see... Well, it isn't really shocking, though it might give you a surprise. Mitch, what I'm getting at is, she was lying when she said she was involved with a pilot. We've been flying together frequently over the last several months, and she hasn't been involved with anybody... definitely not anybody from the crews. She doesn't flaunt her relations, but she doesn't hide them either. With the amount of time we've spent together lately, I don't see how she could keep a relationship so secret. She was keeping busy with the work, and that didn't leave her much free time. Come to think of it, she wasn't partying as much as she did, and her last fling was almost half a year ago or so."

That was indeed a surprising revelation.

"So, what do you think is happening?" I asked.

"There is definitely a break in the pattern. She never went more than a month or two without getting involved with somebody. I had seen that myself, and I hear things. It's a small world. Everybody knows everybody."

"She might have one-night-stands in the meantime, but the general pattern seems to have changed." I was thinking out loud, without realizing what I said.

"Yes, I would say so. There is another thing," she said, grabbing my attention immediately with the tone of her voice.

"You remember that I told you she probably cried when she returned to the lounge?"

I nodded.

"I haven't seen her cry over anybody. She would shrug, and say it was fun while it lasted, and move on to the next relation. Most of the time, she was the one who broke off relations. Her reaction to you, lying about a non-existent relationship, and her later behavior in the lounge are contradictory, unless... Considering all I've heard from you and what I know about her, if I had to take a guess, I would say she has feelings for you, Mitch. She probably has had them for a long time."

"I'm not sure I follow your reasoning. I know I felt something from her, but her signals were clear. She wasn't interested in pursuing us, and she didn't want me to pursue us. I think we both know that she knew how I felt about her then, and still do now, even though we didn't talk about it."

"That's where it gets a bit... complicated. I think it has everything to do with her past, and your earlier history. You were correct when you said she was hurt, and that made her change, become a user."

"We agree on that, but how does that relate to what you said?" I asked.

"In the dance of mating, the male is supposed to be the initiator, the hunter, and the female is the hunted. In reality, the female decides whether she'll take a male as a partner or not. However this doesn't change the fact that male is the aggressor, so to speak, whether he'll be successful or not. Are you with me so far?"

I nodded.

"Now, in most cases the dance is more complicated. Both partners step forward and backward, testing the waters, and the chemistry between them, trying to find a suitable rhythm if there's one to be found. In her other relations, she allowed herself to be chased and captured. In your case, she was doing the chasing. From what I heard about your earlier history, she was the initiator. She decided when to move to the next step. That means she was interested in you. Of course, you must have chased her, but you were taking a more passive approach, whereas she was taking a more active role. This happens, but not so regularly and consistently. There's always a role reversal along the way, sometimes several role reversals. In your case, that never happened, at least until very late."

"So you're saying, because I never took the initiative, she lost interest, and moved onto other men..."