Chapter 6

There is a piece of art on an analog record my dad has of two robot hands clasping one another and the associated song is called “Wish you were here”. I remembered it when Ali let me into his house and while I was taking my shoes off I felt Bang-ja, as a presence I needed. She took me in her arms and kissed me ... a little warily. Then she kissed Beck and they grabbed us and sat us down in a circle, all of us with our tablets in front of us.

I looked at them. “Um ... gentlefolk, please, among us give me she/her for a trial?”

“Something momentous, I imagine?” asked Bang-ja. I nodded. Beck’s eyes were shimmering and Ali’s opened widely. “Not today, but shortly, I will need some conversation.” They nodded and we turned to the course listings.

There followed a lot of back-and-forth. I listened, it was the second year of these classes for all of them and I knew better than to sound off.

We all wanted to take ‘BDSM for minors’. The syllabus wasn’t very informative but Beck said “John and Iain agree: if we take one thing all together make it that. It is taught by someone they respect, it helps us know our cohort better and it’s an introduction to the roots of Collective ethics.” Bang-ja and Ali signed up, I’d already done it provisionally.

Next, following Serge’s recommendation, I needed to take a crafts class. Bang-ja was doing modern dance. Ali had slotted a diving class in opposite that. Beck and I, after significant amounts of agita, decided on a jewelry making class.

I signed up for applied fashion. Bang-ja said “we all had it the first time we could, it’s well known and you will get a lot out of it. We can help.” They all laughed and I must have looked surprised. “No, Ash, it’s just that ... you’re starting out”, said Ali. “It’s not so easy to look at oneself abstractedly and see what works.” I thought it through. I’d been taking advice, not seeing many patterns, and if a class could teach me that then maybe things would be easier to navigate - and I abruptly noticed the three of them had hallmarks of attention to detail in dress, accessories, make-up and hair. Maybe I could pick up some foundational ideas, it would be better not to be blind-sided by the obvious all the time. I picked that class too.

“Okay, that’s all I have slots for”, said Ali. “Next step”, said Bang-ja. “Integration.” Mine wasn’t bad, the calendar module already had my tang soo do and yoga on it. What would likely happen with those is there would be long classes available Saturdays, to promote deeper study in yoga or sparring sessions in tang soo do. Most Litha breaks, Maya pushed my weekday class to 0800 to keep afternoons less crowded. I marked those tentative.

I had a little bit of a squeeze on the Tuesday/Thursday - I would have to get from school to the BDSM class in half an hour, so I looked up the class coordinates: “other” side of Riemann, past Gauss. 2.5 klicks, should be do-able at a fast walk. Rain would be a problem. It is a fairly old neighborhood, which meant some of the Collective founders had lived here. I’d try that little walk some time soon. Until then I’d have to mark it tentative.

I listed bangjaoh, AXShig, Beck-oo.

“All good?” We nodded and stood. “Your data are not my data and I will not share or leak them.” “OK, go ahead.” Touch the ‘publish’ button, one for each of us, and we got three overlays for each of our calendars. We couldn’t alter, screenshot or otherwise transmit the overlays, but if I added something on my calendar the others would get it on theirs. I would have to set it in ‘graphic-only’ if I showed it to anyone else, which would take identifiers off the overlays.

I said “Not bad as long as my walk doesn’t run into festivities or crowds. We’ll see. Community pet parade on the Friday, Litha 1/7 will be the first test, but no classes on that day.” Beck said she thought there was plenty of time on this schedule for music, but ... She and Bang-ja exchanged a look.

We rose as Ali’s mom - a slim, flowered red muumuu-clad woman a little over my height - entered the room. She greeted all of us, and asked after Auntie Sumi. “She’s well, she is enjoying her work and her orchid-ing.” “All those flowers, I have no idea where she gets the time and patience.”

Winnie invited us to have a picnic outside, either on the shaded grass or in their art studio. We all looked at Ali. “We can go ahead and make stuff”, said Bang-ja, but Ali said “pantry’s not delivering yet, let’s go in and brainstorm in front of the fridge.” It transpired after much lip-chewing and laughter that we could manage to put together chicken salad sandwiches and some raw vegetables. Ali asked Winnie “joining us?” “With that lot of monsters in the family room?” “Sorry, Mom, next time I’ll think ahead and make a picnic for all of us.” “This meeting was impromptu, I could tell - and I imagine it was about scheduling Litha classes; therefore you had to rush it to completion.” I touched Beck. ‘Sushi?’ and she said “give us ten minutes and we will have lunch for all, if the whole crowd like sushi.” Ali said “much better, thanks.” Winnie asked if it was a problem. “We made sushi for my dads’ friends and this is maybe 50% maguro, 35% toro and a little ōtoro. There is more than enough to feed everyone.” Winnie grinned. “The littles and juniors love it; so do I.”

Beck and I went back to her place, packed a basket with some of the breakfast left-overs - there was an impressive amount even after that - and put fresh tofu and green onions in the miso stock. Back at Ali’s we zapped that and dished up. Five minutes later we were all walking out of the house with two picnic baskets, a bunch of throws and some cushions. Ali has a favorite spot under a couple of redwoods and that’s where we landed.

For a day so near Solstice (L1/22) it was on the chilly side but the wind was warm and smelled of sun-heated earth and plants. We spread out the throws and cushions and sat, Ali put out the glasses and opened the wine. Etna bianco, and I didn’t know this winery, but it was a pretty light green-yellow. Bang-ja and Ali offered cold mugicha, water and lemonade to the monsters. Ali confirmed, we echoed - force of habit - and we touched glasses and sipped. The aroma of the wine made the air from the surrounding forest smell more interesting, and I wanted to bet it would do that for the sushi too. The monsters made a point of touching glasses with all of us. Then we ate. I saw Beck watching the juniors and her face ended up in a pretty smile as she saw them emulate the Vikings. Seize, twirl in the sauce, bite. I couldn’t remember whether I was already eating sushi by the time I was Manuel’s age, but probably since Auntie had been pushing that ever since I could pronounce ‘Auntie’ at least.

“Mom, where’d the mugicha come from?” asked Manuel. The kids had mostly abandoned the lemonade and water. Winnie asked Beck, who said “Ash taught me to make this, his brother roasts the barley.” “Can we get it again?” “I imagine, I’ll ask Serge.”

The juniors and littles knew picnic rules and they began to edge away from the food in order to run around among the trees. Winnie and the four of us stayed seated. It felt like we had the afternoon off, although I couldn’t help noticing how Winnie and Ali watched the kids - not exactly as if they expected something to go wrong, but ‘protective vigilance’ was the term I ended up with. I hoped they could relax after a time, so I asked Winnie if she wanted to take a break. “Thanks, Ash, after someone’s given birth to five it’s a habit too ingrained to stop. It won’t be long until they’re asleep, given all this running around, then I’ll put them on the blanket and stop being such a sheep-dog.”

As she predicted, one by one the kids ran out of energy and they ended up asleep on the blanket in the dappled shade. Winnie asked us to help her take them into the house “because I have some things to take care of.” We each picked one of them up and took them in, still sleeping, and laid them where Winnie and Ali said.

Beck asked something of Winnie and she nodded. “Here, let me show you.” She, Bang-ja and Beck shooed us out of the house and we went back to the picnic site.

Ali said “um, Ash?” “I’m listening.” “You remember I messaged you about how exciting you looked on Neeps, and you said back ‘let’s check our permissions’?” “I remember.” “Well ... can we?” “Sure. Ali, I would like you to touch me intimately. Please touch me intimately.” “Um ... Ash, I would like you to touch me intimately. Please touch me intimately.” “I’d like to kiss you, Ash.” “Please.” He quietly leaned forward and closed his eyes as his lips met mine. And then he was breathing hard, still with his eyes closed. I softened my lips a little more and here came the little noises and the mewing and his hesitant tongue and “mmm, mmm.” I simply encouraged him and did a little experiment where I let him feel how his lips excited me. He was shaking and squirming. I broke the kiss. “You okay?” “Mmm-hmm”, and he kissed me some more. I stroked his ears and a little space on the side of his neck.

I wasn’t sure how this would go, Ali had always seemed guarded and deliberate in his actions and speech. I petted him a little more and realized he was awfully nervous in spite of the fact his body liked the kisses.

I broke again. “Ali, we don’t have to do this, are you conflicted?” He opened his eyes, nodded. “I don’t want to put you on the spot, so if you want to stop, just stop. If you feel like talking about it, do; if not, don’t.” “It is OK, please, more?” I leaned in and we started kissing again. I resolved to stay with him but to try not to do any of the sense sharing and after a time we simply stopped. “That was nice, Ali.”

He hmm-hmmed. Bang-ja and Beck came back with some kind of pastry. And coffee? Odd at a picnic. I realized they had wanted to give Ali and me a chance to get closer - and although I’d been fine with Ali’s kisses he had had a ratchet-y feel as though he was fighting his own body. I supposed I could help Ali let go of it, if he wished, by supporting him and letting Ali be Ali. Not for me to interfere.

As shadows lengthened Bang-ja invited us to her place for dinner, since Beck and I were playing music later. “Just a dinner, folks. Elizabeth and Diana have set up a smallish barbecue. It’ll start in an hour or so, and we’ll send Beck and Ash away full of good Korean food - which I need to go help with.”

That set off a need to send comms, and it wasn’t like we’d do that at a picnic - too ingrained a habit. We thanked Ali and Beck for the picnic, picked up the throws and the débris, and took it all in. Bang-ja hugged us, put her shoes on, and got into a CVA while we sorted the dishes and put them in the machine, shook out the blankets and hung them, and deflected the monsters’ demand for a story. Ali calmed them down. “We have to go, but stories tomorrow.” I thought it was ... Jennifer? ... who looked pouty and bid fair in my mind to cry but Ali picked her up and said “minors get busy, it’s not like there won’t be story time ever again.” “But we love them, Ali.” “You love ice cream but do you have to eat it every day?” “Oh, yes!” He laughed and said “okay, stupid question.” Jennifer laughed at either his wry face or the comment and said “Tomorrow?” “Yes, Jennifer.” “Promise?” Ali took a deep breath, pushed it out and said “I promise.” “Yay!” Then Ali put her down softly on her feet and kissed her forehead. She ran off and Ali said “I need five minutes to change, then we can go to Beck’s and your place. No. You should move your equipment to Beck’s first, right?” I nodded. “Thank Winnie for me?” “I will.” “See you there in a couple, then, OK?”

No way was a transit drone going to carry my grandmother Mitsouko’s Chapman stick. I hugged Beck and Ali, put my shoes on and took off to my ... apparently empty house. The stick, the amp, and an old set of Stax Kogyo cans were in their cases. They didn’t weigh all that much but they were awkward until I got out the cart Serge had made for them, then all I had to do was tow them along the few hundred meters to Beck’s.

She and Ali were waiting for me, oddly quiet. We took the gear up and put it in the conversation room, then Beck went to change clothes. Ali wore denim, befitting the barbecue, and Beck came back in a light cardigan and a longish skirt. It would be cool enough for that - high likelihood it would be chilly on a night that hinted of fog and a westerly off the ocean.

As we arrived at my place I knew from the silence there was tension between them and I hoped they’d work it out: no one had told me but I was quite sure they were on intimate terms and, looking back, probably had been at least this school year. All this looking back was difficult for me, too. I had missed a lot with my friends.

I put on a pair of jeans, a pink top, and took a green pull-over from a shelf. For the first time since Wednesday I was wearing my pre-Danni garb with my friends and it felt strange.

When I came back out Ali and Beck were speaking softly, and hand-in-hand. Ali said “Barbecues aren’t the place for showing skin, but I like it much better on warm days when I can check you out, Ash.” Beck nodded. “Thanks. I’m learning awfully quickly and there are things I’m noticing that I wouldn’t want to revert, like how much closer my friends and I are now.” “Nor would I,” said Beck.

I summoned a CVA: eight minutes, so I excused myself and sent Gretchen and Auntie my change of plan - I hadn’t had one, but presence at our fam’s dinner is assumed without comms.

Picnics and barbecues both entail walking on lawns so seeing heels at a barbecue is at least odd. I had my old boat shoes on but I might be able to find some sandals soon - still, those are for picnics, not barbecues.

The CVA turned up and we hopped in. CVAs are cozy and we sat so Ali and I could flank Beck. She took my hand. There was a little feeling of disappointment in her and yet she said ‘There’s time, don’t worry.’ ‘About...?’ ‘Sorry, data, never mind.’ And that was reassuring in a way. Good thing we could still respect data with the touch communication.

We could hear the hum of conversation as we got near Bang-ja’s. We knocked. Diana opened the door. She hugged Ali, then Beck and finally me. She took his hand and we went into the backyard crowd. Every minor and major from our four families and twice as many I didn’t know yet were here. A tent with two grills, their exhaust equipment, lots of heat. Betsy was working fast between a couple of grill employees, who watched her carefully. Tables of snacks, drinks. We were being steered toward Elizabeth, Auntie, mom and Winnie. They’d seen us, so we went over and had another little round of hugs. They sat. “Join us for a minute?” Diana went back to welcoming guests. I got a couple cushions off a cart and we sat. “What an exciting day!” said Elizabeth. “Bang-ja is helping Gretchen and Betsy at the moment, we have more cooks here than we’ve ever and it still wasn’t quite enough.” Ali moved to get up but she waved him back.

Elizabeth asked Ali about his summer classes. “Bang-ja, Ash, Beck and I are together for a D/s one. I’m doing scuba and surfing.” She looked at me. “The one Ali mentioned, I’m also doing jewelry design and applied fashion.” “Becky?” “Firearms, jewelry design, and the class we’re all in.”

We drifted away after a few minutes and I met some of Ali’s swimming friends. They had a jargon I didn’t know but one of them’s a math nerd - Georg Hoff - and we could communicate just fine.

Betsy was clanging a big triangle and loudly saying something about a chuck wagon, and people started meandering over. Beck squeezed my hand. “Let’s find Bang-ja.” We found her near the grill, talking with Betsy. You can see her smile across a large field. She bounced up to us. “Let’s let the line shorten a bit, there’s plenty of food, and we can eat and talk.” “What were you making, Bang-Ja?” “Dessert. Secret. Shhhhh.”

Bang-ja towed us all into the diminishing line. “Make sure you get a couple of those flat rib-like things each. A real barbecue is the only way to get the right taste.” We got some of those, and Bang-ja sprinkled green onions on for each of us. Burgers, sausages - “is that andouille?” I asked, and received one - beans, cole slaw, rice, bread items, wine glasses, knives, forks... “Paper goods and wine on the tables”, said Bang-ja. “Let’s eat!”

Here and there some gaps had appeared in the seating. Someone was waving and Beck said “let’s go sit with my friends.” We walked over there. I recognized most of her quintet from school and I’d known John Hauser for a long time, so we greeted people and she introduced Ali around and then me to their horn player, an older gentleperson named Grace. We sat, Bang-ja started us so we dug in and listened to the talk. With this group it instantly veered to the food.

The ribs had a sweet-smoky-caramel taste with ... garlic. Good thing we all liked it. We finished those first and Becky looked a question at Bang-ja, holding up a rib. “It’s called kal bi. It’s Korean if you didn’t get a clue from the garlic...” whereupon a confused babble began: “how do you ... what’s this ... is it beef...?” “I can explain later but a) we still need to eat, so b) I don’t really want the floor just now, ok?” The smaller chats re-formed. And my andouille was venison! I love this stuff.

The food and wine disappeared and when Bang-ja got up to get more wine I noted the heavily gnawed bones from the kal bi on all the plates. She took note, too, another big white smile. When she came back with a couple bottles of pinot noir there were a few takers, but when she also put more kal bi on the table there was a resurgence of interest and the wine was emptied shortly. The second batch of kal bi disappeared and nothing more than thoroughly gnawed bones joined the piles.