Chapter 28: Thursday Lunch -"Baba O'Riley"

Luis

What the ... Becca is hitting me.

She has to be hurting her hands. I need to stop her before she does some real damage to herself.

I looked into her eyes.

SHIT!

She is already hurt. Not physically, but freaking.

DAMN IT!

Why this week?

Why at all?

"Becca?"

No reaction other than the continued wailing and flailing.

"BECCA!"

Her head turned my way for a second.

Feral eyes that will probably haunt me for the rest of my days.

"Shit!" I think came out of my mouth.

Ms Carlisle appeared in that moment behind Becca. She looked at me and tried a sympathetic smile.

"What the..."

She shook her head and her face went sad. The look in her eyes told me to be patient. And shut up. My training took over and I finally took a breath. Well, it was almost a breath. The air made it into my mouth. Maybe.

And another inhalation. It was almost deep, it almost made it into my chest. The exhale was, at best, shaky.

And ... another. And ... that one made it to my center.

I felt the roots connect.

And, damn, Becca is still hitting my chest. I've got to stop this. Another breath ... without hurting her.

Using the Push Hands technique of no more than four ounces of pressure, I placed my fingers around her wrists. Slowly, working with her energy, I moved her blows off my chest and into the air.

Damn! She's stronger than she looks and her energy is all over the place. Properly directed, it would be very powerful.

I absorbed her energy to slow her movements. I could feel her heart. Every muscle moving. All the energy directed wildly into her arms. It was easy to see the confusion in her mind and soul without even looking into her eyes.

As soon as her arms stilled, she whipped her head up and met my eyes. Only then could I plainly see the pain in her soul.

"Oh!" she managed. And then her knees melted and she collapsed.

Joan helped me catch Becca. She wasn't out, she'd just turned into a dishrag. Doctor C appeared at my side. For a large man, he can be too quiet.

Maybe I was distracted.

"What... ?" Yeah. What! My new saying of the day.

"I'll take her someplace quiet and talk to her," Ms Carlisle said.

I noticed the crowds looking at us. Most seemed just as confused as I felt. A few angry stares at me, like I had done something horribly wrong. She began leading Becca towards her office. Doctor C pulled me away and towards his office.

Once inside, he had me take the seat I had stood behind on Monday. "Luis, you remember the psychological profile testing we did?"

"Yes sir." Talk about out of the blue.

"And do you remember what your personality type was?"

"The Meyers-Briggs test? Yes. An INTP - Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, and Perceptive - the architect."

"Someone who lives in the world of ideas. Yes. Do you remember how weak or strong you were on the Introvert rating?"

"Middle of the road Introvert with some degree of Extroversion."

"So, you have need for some solitary pursuits, but don't mind being around people."

"Pretty much."

"Okay. Rebbecca is also an I, Introvert. Except she is a very strong one. Almost off the scale. She has to have large blocks of time by herself. I would imagine this week she's had very little time to herself."

"Hmmm ... Sleeping Monday and Tuesday night. And, some time in the afternoons when she's in the art rooms."

"Not nearly enough in a normal week, for her. Then add in the stress of this week."

"How did I miss all this?" I shook my head. Then, "Hell, how did you see all this?"

"Well, the easy answer, it's my job. Plus, experience has shown us that psychological backlash due to the Program happens today. In a way, it is amazing she's made it this far without some signs."

"Well, she does crave what she calls 'Cave Time' when she snuggles into my chest and disappears."

"Ah. Yes. That would be a temporary substitute. She needs some time, and soon."

"Lunch?"

"Yes. Ms Carlisle is going to suggest she skip part, or all, of the three lunch periods and go to the art room. She can use Francesca's private studio. We've cleared it with her."

"Good. Should ... should I leave her alone for that?"

"You may want to offer to walk her. Don't push." In other words, stay out of the studio. I may be a dumb jock, but I got that.

"I can do that." I looked down at my hands. "I feel responsible for not giving her the time she needed."

"You probably didn't see anything wrong. This morning, her world caved in. I would imagine you're feeling very disoriented yourself."

I couldn't stop the snort. "That would be a good way to describe it."

"You almost said, 'No shit!' Didn't you?" I nodded. "After you talk to Rebbecca, I want you to take a break yourself. Use as much of the lunch periods as you need."

"Uhm ... What about the Nakeds?"

"If you were to show up to the first lunch period, you'd find more than one off on a break. Don't worry about it. Ms Carlisle and I will be there and explain that we've granted breaks to anyone needing it. And, offering any that show up the break."

"Okay. Yet, I feel like I'm letting everyone around me down."

"A sure sign you need a break. Center yourself."

The thought of a long Yang form ran through my mind followed by half an hour in the whirlpool. That began to settle me just thinking about it. "Will do." Then a thought invaded my mind. "Uhm ... What was going on this morning? Coach MacFarland mentioned that teachers were waiting in doors and such."

"We've gained experience with the Program and the backlashes over the years, plus learned from others. We're prepared, but we need to let things play out. To a point. We didn't interfere with what happened with Susan and Rebbecca ... Becky. It would take a while to explain it, let's just say we've been watching things develop. Becky's meltdown wasn't unexpected."

"Why not warn us?"

"Personally, I would have loved to. Yet ... Luis, when you're first learning to hit an opponent did you always listen to your coaches about the right way to keep from getting hurt yourself?"

"No." I flashed back to those days. The hard, hard lessons that were accompanied by bruises, cuts, and other damage to my body. And that was in practice.

"Exactly. You learned more by experiencing. As cruel as it seems, the experience of this morning needed to happen. We'll be monitoring it. Yet, I think we did all right. Becky is going to do just fine. Now, how about you?"

"Me?" Wasn't I doing okay? Was I? Hell, fucking, no.

"Yes. You. I've known you for a long time. I'm also an ex-professional athlete. I know your head is not where it needs to be. Plus, as an educator, I know that same head is not doing his normal excellent in classes."

"Caught? Huh?"

"Caught. And, what are you going to do?"

"Take the break over lunch. Center and get my game face ready."

"Good. Now, let's go. Remember, don't push. You may even have to push her away a bit."

Great.

Rebbecca

"Becky?" Joan's voice penetrated the swirling fog of emotions in my mind. She had settled me on the couch in her office and taken a seat, being sure to leave some room. She allowed me a long time to just sit and ... I guess just be. No pressure. No talk. Quiet. I felt comfortably alone. Almost.

"Y-Yes?" Staring down in my lap just felt so right. Better than walking around naked. My fingers were doing an intricate dance with each other.

"Has Cave Time helped you this week?"

"Yes!" I looked up, with what almost felt like a smile as I looked at Joan. The flood of memories of being snuggled into My Mountain's chest washed over me.

"Is it enough for you?"

"I-I ... Uhm ... Ah..." Be honest with yourself, Becky. Becca. Your creative energy has been nil this week except for that blast Monday and Tuesday. Okay, a few sparks. But, by now, in another world, I would have done a lot of writing, more paintings. Why couldn't I? I felt a small voice squeak out to Joan, "No."

"Well, we have an easy solution. You get good alone time in the art rooms, don't you?"

"Yes ma'am." Speaking of writing and painting. And that cave that Francesca provided me.

"Why don't you head there now, instead of lunch."

"B-But, what about the Nakeds and..."

"Everything will be fine. More than one of the Nakeds will be missing at lunch. You tend to your needs right now."

"A-And ... Luis?"

"Dr. Cavenaugh is talking to him right now and encouraging him to take some time as well."

"But ... I hit him."

"And do your hands hurt?"

"W-Well, some." I looked at my hands and realized that they would probably hurt in a while. It looked like I had been hitting a hard wall, but wrapped in silk. Red, inflamed, but no cuts. Actually, no worse than helping Francesca with her marble. Yet, what I did hit me. "W-Will I see him?"

"Right now if you want."

"Yesssss!" Did I really say it that loud?

Joan chuckled, helped me up, and led me into the hallway.

Luis

Dr. C and I exited his office at exactly the same time that Ms Carlisle walked out of hers with Becca in tow.

My Sweetie looked up at me, shyly. There was sadness in her eyes, yet joy in seeing me. I have never felt worse in my life for bringing this pain by not understanding her needs.

Remembering Dr. C's words, I opened my arms, slightly, inviting her into a hug.

She looked a question at me that my body knew the answer to before my mind caught up. My arms opened wider and were instantly filled with my sweetie.

"I'm so sorry..." we both said at the same time. Looking down into her eyes and her seeing into me, we talked without vocalizing. In a second and three eternities, we worked enough out to be able to move forward.

To hell with the PDA policies, we kissed. My heart was exploding as my mind achieved peace. I felt her melt into me. Joining. Being as one.

We'd still be there kissing, or more, if we hadn't heard a stereo clearing of throats from either side of us.

I slowly pulled back, making eye contact again. "Busted."

"Damn. It's detention for us."

"Yep. Locked into a room together for hours."

"Having only to focus on each other."

"Yep. Damn."

"Yes, damn!"

"Okay, kids. Enough mocking authority," came Dr. C's deep, command voice. Becca and I cracked up at the same time. I could have sworn I heard a snort from Ms Carlisle. Oops. Joan. No, in this context, Ms Carlisle.

We finally untangled, took one last long look in each other eyes, shared a brief kiss, and simultaneously said, "See you in a bit."

"Uncanny," said Joan.

"Magical," Dr. C said low enough that he might not have thought we heard him.

We slowly moved apart, souls still talking through our eyes. Finally, our hands broke. Almost refusing to lose contact, the energy exchange persisted long after the loss of touch. With a quick smile to each other, we turned to face our audience.

It took Joan a second to recover, "Am, yes. Okay. Doctor Cavenaugh and I need to handle the lunch with the Nakeds and both of you have things you need to be doing."

"Yes ma'am," we both said at the same time.

"Unreal," Dr. C said.

"Amazing," Joan said at the same time.

Rebbecca

Lunch?

LUNCH?

A few minutes ago, I was waking up in My Mountain's bed. Then crying ... and being supported by Margie and Carmella. Then the strangeness in the car. One of these days I really need to figure out all those buttons.

A freight train hit called Susan. Rosa was there, I think. Yes, she was. She had something to say. I think.

I was melting, melting into the ground. If it had been melting into invisibility, that I would have enjoyed. Yet, my melting seemed to draw more and more people. More and more stares. More and more things I didn't understand.

Feeling so alone in a crowd, with loved ones around. And, not writing. And, not really painting except one, with twenty new ideas and a couple of burning fires that seem to keep going out. And college offers out of nowhere. And my sweetie is distracted. And not losing my virginity. And falling asleep. And Susan this morning. And my conflicts about Rosa. And Luis. And college. And art. And...

My Mountain took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Would you like me to escort you to the art room?"

A gentle warmth washed through me. The Ands went away. No, they settled into places, waiting to be resolved, but no longer needing my constant attention. Yes, I wanted him to walk me to the art rooms. Yes, I wanted to do some art. Yes, I needed time alone. Yes, I loved this man. Yes, I wanted to go to college where he did. Susan? Psst.

That was me hating myself. O ... Kay ... Really?

Y-Yeah.

Oh, damn! I get it now! We hate not a person, but what that person draws out of us. The hate is our fear of that thing in us!

Yes!

"My Mountain, it would be a great ... joy ... if you would." I looked up and smiled. We locked eyes.

Yep. He's right. Einstein did have this figured out. Who would have ever thought of the great scientist as an incurable romantic!

A grunt and giggle from Doctor Cavenaugh and Ms Carlisle, Joan, intruded.

My Mountain and I walked down the hall in silence. Holding hands. It felt so right.

We arrived at the art room door and he turned to me, "I'm so sorr-"

I put a single finger to his lips and looked deep in his eyes. His pain met my confusion and they swept out into the stars together, hopefully to be fused into something positive for others. I know that much about physics, conservation of energy.

"My Mountain ... I love you." And, I prayed. I felt, knew the answer. Yet...

He looked into my eyes. "And, I love you."

I pulled his head down, that massive thing that seemed to weigh nothing, and touched my lips to his. Just as we met, I whispered, "My Mountain. My love."

The world swirled. Yet, in the mix, I saw a path. A path that led to a new painting. A painting I had to do, now. Now. And he slightly moved his lips.

What painting? What world?

My Mountain melted into me. Me! He was as light as a feather. Just as I was thinking I could dance him around the room, a coughing sound came in stereo.

Luis

After helping Becca mount a monstrous canvas in an easel in Francesca's private studio, we shared a brief kiss before she disappeared into her private world.

As I was leaving, Francesca stopped me. "She'll be fine, Luis." Her hand brushed my cheek. A very Italian thing to do. A mother loving her son. Respect and love.

"I know, thanks." I couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry we broke up the kiss when we came in," she said with a chuckle as I walked out. "We'll care for your Fottella della montagna."

"She is my pixie," I chuckled in return. "I guess I am her mountain."

I smiled all the way down the hall.

Knowing that Becca was going to be all right and had loving support if she needed it took a big weight off me. Another huge load lifted when I realized that I had a break as well. An hour or three to center.

The monkeys in my brain immediately started chattering away. Some of them downright squeaking. The Program. College. Football. Friends ignored this week. Friends made this week. East. Classes. Family. Hell, Margie in the Program.

A whole choir was yammering about Becca. Another, smaller one, about not taking enough advantage of the Program and getting relief in every class. Least we forget the finely tuned voices singing about Rosalee. With full pipe organ accompaniment.

Thoughts streaming through my head faster than I could possibly engage and consider. I damned well wished they would choose one key and stick to it!

And, I'm trying to engage the cacophony. Giving it a name. Talking to it. Trying to argue.

I tried rotating my neck and didn't get very far. Imagine that. Not with my shoulders touching my ears.

"Luis!" a voice shouted from behind me.

Plant right foot, turn, bend knees, prepare...

"Shit, dude! Damn!" Phil said taking a couple of steps back. "I never want to see that breaking through the line coming after me."

"Oh, damnit Phil!" In my mind, I saw him in the red jersey that told us defensive types that we weren't allowed to kill them in practice. My fists were clenched, when did I do that? "I'm sorry."

"Just keep up that intensity for East."

Breathe. Don't kill our quarterback. Kill their quarterback.

Breathe. "Working on it, believe me."

"Dude, you need some stress relief."

"That's where I'm headed. Some T'ai Chi and a whirlpool instead of lunch. Hopefully, that will..." What would it do? Oh, yeah, find center. It wouldn't solve the thousand problems running around my head with the billion questions attached to them.

"I hope so. I'm worried about you. Your head isn't where we need it. And we need everything we can get for tomorrow night. Remember, not only is this game about local pride, this game is critical for a lot of our players and their chances at a good college, or college scholarships at all."

"Phil, you know I respect you. Yet, the only thing holding me back right now is a vision of you wearing a red jersey. For that, I apologize."

"So, what are you going to do?" His eyes darted left and right, instinctively looking for running lanes or a place to dump the non-existent ball he normally held during the game.

"They've excused me from the Program for the next three periods. I'm going to use it to ... I don't know. Be?"

"We'll talk before practice?" His eyes tried to bore into mine. He was getting his game face on. Shit. Where did I leave mine?

"No problems." And I'll be glad to sell you ocean front property in Colorado. It's just a short walk across those dunes to the beach.

"Then, go to it. Remember who you are. A force. A leader. Part of a great team." And, he walked away, leaving me standing there shaking my head. What was left of it. On one side, more monkeys than grains of sand on a beach, chattering away senselessly about everything and nothing. On the other, a dozen choirs that would make the Mormon Tabernacle one look small, singing their songs of woe about an issue I needed to address. The Game. The Team. College. Becca. School. Becca. Parents. Friends. Becca. Sanity. Grades. Becca. Rosalee. Becca...

"ARRRRGGH!" The echo from the empty hallway was not the answer I was seeking. I had a brief sense of feet running away down the other corridors. Damn. Just what I need. I'm supposed to scare the shit out of the other team, not my friends and fellow students.

The first door I encountered was the typical push-bar affair. I'm glad they have heavy duty hinges, yet I'm afraid they'll be replacing those tomorrow. And that it had that little pane of glass with the wire mesh in it. Damn it. I bet that is expensive.

Somehow, and without too much more mayhem to animate or inanimate objects, I made it to the weight room. One corner of the room is equipped with gymnastics pads on the floor large enough for three or four people to work on martial arts as needed, or tackling and blocking practice. It was perfect for T'ai Chi as well.

I stood facing the corner. Feet shoulder width apart. Automatically my body aligned in the classic starting pose. Knees slightly bent. Arms down by my sides, relaxed, palms inward, fingers slightly curled. The weight on my feet perfectly balanced between them and over the length of my bare feet.

Without thought, my breathing deepened. The voices chattering away. The choirs singing. Who the hell brought in the pipe organs? Do they really need to be doing dueling organists right now? And not a single one of them E. Power Biggs.