PART THREE i - Therapy

  Right was practical. If a bit self centered. But then no one's perfect.

  "Are we working out? If we get moving, I can still get some sun. Will you get the breakfast moving already? Mister Lazy."

  He did. But he talked while he did it.

  "Now let me get this straight. You, are old enough to vote. You're 19, and you have yet to carry a dish to the sink, much less heat up an egg in a frying pan. I make you breakfast, I serve you, and I do the dishes. Then? I have to help Hurry pick up after you. But I'm the zy one?"

  "Which way I go with it, gets the food going quicker."

  "Well. No logic to your argument, then. How you argue, does not affect the temperature of the pan, the condition of the eggs. Therefore? Your argument is silly, and has no merit. The speed with which breakfast gets made? Is governed by, among other things, the ws of thermodynamics. Physics 101."

  I smiled.

  "You're taking the bait, dear. Don't."

  "Oh. I learned that from the MP's. Human beings? Just can't resist bait. You want to catch one? You just need to figure out the right bait. Simple matter of being there and documenting it. I'm human, I'm taking the bait. Here, I'll do it again. Right? What crimes against womankind am I perpetrating right now? Sure I'm doing something. I always am."

  "Well. Since you asked…"

  "No, let me have it. Tell me how horrible I am, while I make you your breakfast. Go on."

  "Hmm. Right off? You're bragging about your male dominated fields. Physics. Oh, look at me. I have a penis. I can make a chart, and tell you the temperature the stainless steel heats up, how long it takes to get to this many degrees. Your field doesn't have any women in it. You stick us all in dresses and make us py with dolls, while you teach sons how to use… tools, and thermometers and stuff. So they grow up to think they're better than you. When its all just made up."

  "Yeah. That's what we do, hun. No girl smart enough to be in the Physics css? You know it. We lock the door, and we ugh. Bah ha ha-h-h. We all whip our penises out. We py with our thermometers. Which are shaped like penises, by the way. And talk about how much better it was, without a girl around that day. I can't believe you girls are finally onto us. We're going to have to devote more time, to oppressing you."

  "Now you're being condescending. Another sexist trait of the patriarchy. You're completely framing the argument about the differences between girls and boys. Which don't exist. Gender is a social construct."

  I cover my face with my hand, I'll bust out ughing if I don't. He's over there ughing. While making her eggs.

  "Yeah. Laugh. Guess you don't have an answer? To that. Hmm."

  "You were being serious? I thought you were just trying to make me ugh. My apologies. I'll take your argument more seriously, if you really want."

  "Better than being condescending."

  "Well. Where to begin. This pan, is not shiny. So, its not stainless. Its made of cast iron. Metallurgy. Which I'm sure is another penis dominated field. Because we're all in on it. Are you seriously going to bme all men, because you can't figure out how a thermometer works? Seriously. Tools. Who ever stopped you."

  "See? Its not about stopping me. Its about no one showed me how. That's? How its perpetuated."

  "I know how to change a tire. Do you want me to show you how to change a tire? Hurry has a car, and I'm sure there's a spare in the trunk. I'll patiently show you, then make you change it. I will not rest, until I'm certain you can make it home, the day you get your first ft tire. I'll go you one better. I'll pick up a puncture repair kit, they're cheap. Tomorrow? I'll show you how to repair the nail in the tire, so you don't have to waste money at the tire shop. I bet Hurry already knows how to plug a tire, she grew up on a farm."

  "Pffft. I'm not some useless twat. There's a puncture repair kit, in the glove box. Right next to the air gauge. Which I know how to use, so my tires st all year. Show her how to adjust air pressure. 28, all around. Now? Its a three day course."

  "Well? Who exactly is stopping you, from learning all this great penis dominated stuff. I'll throw in thermometer lessons, for free. You get to learn how to measure air pressure, and how it changes with temperature. That's practical physics. Several tools and measuring devices involved, here. You'll sprout a penis in no time."

  "I wanna get some sun. Summer won't st forever, you know."

  "Okay. We're getting somewhere. I cook your breakfast. Mainly because you either can't do it, or because you won't do it. Same thing in the end. Not only am I not stopping you? I'll show you how to do it. You should not leave college, with a degree, not knowing how to make eggs and bacon."

  "Eh. Women shouldn't have to cook. That's sexist."

  "I have a penis. I do a lot of the cooking. Know why I learned? I didn't want to starve. How am I perpetuating sexual stereotypes again… I do the dishes. I pick up around the house. I even do me and Hurry's undry. Ask Hurry… I don't need a girl, to do these things for me. I can manage them myself."

  "Okay. Maybe, you're okay. For a guy. But… you still get to benefit from the system."

  He got mine, he got Lightning's… her turn.

  "Well. You want an omelet again?"

  "Yes!"

  "Hold on. While I oppress you into sexual stereotype submission. With an omelet, made just the way you like it. I will strike another blow. For the patriarchy…"

  "A little more cheese?"

  "Here…"

  Lightning wasn't in little girl mode. She woke up… regur. The wrecked and immature 14 year old fell asleep. The tough 19 year old woke up. Still there. Little half smirk, watching and listening to these two go at it. Teddy Ball could sit in her room. She's got her knees wide, her elbows dangling her arms down inside her legs. She spoke while Miss Patriarchy started stuffing her face with extra cheese and meat omelet.

  "Wizzy?"

  "Yes, Light."

  "If she's gonna get sun, instead of learn how to change a tire, and all…"

  "Yeah…"

  "Hurry said you can show me how to make basic chili. She says its easier than a hamburger. And, it makes it look like you can cook."

  "Real easy. And yeah. I admit it. It made me look like I can cook a little. You'll love it."

  Miss Patriarchy came up from her omelet.

  "I gotta eat her cooking?"

  Light handled it.

  "Go work on your tan."

  "I will."

  When we were working out, Lightning was back in her mode. We had to physically stop her from killing herself more, when we decided enough was enough. Once Right gives up, me and him are barely enough to entertain her, practicing. It takes both of us to try to give her anything worthwhile to practice ball stealing and ball handling. We end up muscling her around, to let her use her speed and slickness to overcompensate. We both pulled on our leg wraps, so we could work on sliding leg steals.

  "Okay. I get sliding in, like I'm stealing a base. I'm curling my leg around the ball, then bumping up and I'm off with it."

  "Yeah. You're a snake, and you're stealing eggs, out the nest."

  She eyed me up.

  "Show me how to take the leg out."

  "I handle the rough stuff. You? Skill and speed."

  "I wanna dish some out."

  "Light? You start dishing it out, you're gonna attract more of it. I'm the bad guy. I attract all the rough stuff. So you three, can run and gun."

  Her face went… funny. She wanted to take a few seconds. As he was coming over to take her aside, he shot me a look. I realized what I did. I said you three. Down to two kids now. I forgot. I triggered her picture. I started forwards, to apologize. He put his hand on my chest, to stop me.

  "She wandered into my world. I think she's fine. Just give her a few seconds. Just… let it go. This is gonna happen. No one else will do what you’re about to do."

  He's right. You're daughter skins her knee? You wanna run and coddle her, but you'll never get a girl that jumps up and wants back in the wiffle ball game that way. She's already tough as nails, and gets her legs frightfully ripped up all season long, and doesn't say boo. Its easy to forget, that she's tough as nails emotionally as well. This is the little girl that broke the hammer.

  She's got that look now. The rattlesnake look. She's clearly aiming at my leg now. Since I do it so much, I know how to stop it. Now she's aiming at one leg, and really coming in for the other. I start stomping on her lead sliding leg. I have no choice. If she's gonna do it, she needs to know what happens back.

  This is fighting without fighting. Flirting and funting the incidental contact rules.

  "Stop. If you really wanna do this? Rules."

  "Fine."

  "We only work on it, when we're alone. No Right, no other girls."

  "Done."

  "You don't talk about it. It just happens."

  "I can keep secrets. Good at that. Done."

  "You need to wrap your ankles and your shins, to practice this. You practice slow, then you build up speed. Speed, you got. Leg reach? Tons. You just need to know what you're aiming for. You don't go sliding in willy nilly, at random. You'll get your ankle broke, when some girl figures out what you're doing. And it'll be some big fullback, like me. I'll show you how to switch legs coming in. You cock it, like a gun. Tomorrow. After Right goes to get sun."

  I look over at him.

  "You. Fighting boy. You know anything, about kicking on the ground."

  "Want me to show her how to break ankles and knees?"

  "No. Doesn't do any good. She gets a good steal, and there's an injury? Game stops. Can't get a goal that way. You wanna hurt the girl, not break her. Girl needs to be up and walking, then realize she has no steam left."

  "A little limp?"

  "Yeah."

  "I'll show her where to hit the ankle. Its not where most people think."

  Light is listening to us go back and forth.

  "Think I know where the ankle is."

  "That's just it. To break a knee? With less force? You aim off the knee. The ankle's no different. What you girls want, is to drag the foot sideways. Nice little sprain."

  "Great. You're going to turn her into a headhunter, like me."

  "Big girls aren't out there taking cheap shots at her all game anyways?"

  "She can do this for a hobby. Not main practice. Can I expin something to you, and you won't get mad."

  "Technically? Who knows. But I can promise, I'll try."

  "You might think I'm having fun, running the show. I can tell you, I'm not. The coach is in charge, not me. The coach decides strategy, not me. Straight up… I'm a utility pyer. That's my big thing. I can py, all the positions. Doesn't mean I'm great at them. My main job, what I'm best at? Is being the fullback."

  "The point is in there, I assume."

  "Oh yeah. I py up, into other positions. That allows me to get rough, and use my size and strength, up front. To protect these girls. To draw those cheap shot artists, which are other fullbacks? Onto me. She starts taking shots, instead of getting them and drawing me up? That's not the strategy. Which is the coach's thing. Her and Right? Can't be repced. I can. They can't afford to be out for a game or two? I can. That's why I get beat up. To protect them."

  "You're the boss."

  "Actually? I'm not. The coach is. She's the Lightning. Fast, strikes with no warning. Accurate. I'm the Hurricane. I blow around the field and knock things down. She doesn't need to be doing what I'm doing. She's all speed and skill, that's her job. I'm half speed and skill, half rough stuff. She's an awesome wing, pying a wing shooter's game. Me? I'm a big fullback, that can py up and run interference for the wings. Don't encourage this."

  "All right. Coach is the boss then."

  "Light, are you sore enough yet?"

  "I guess."

  "I'm not being mean, honey. Run around the big girls. Don't mix it up. Look. I know it looks like I'm making pys on the field? I'm not really. I'm doing what the coach says to do. That's all. There's nothing any coach hates more? Than a pyer doing their own thing. Except a star pyer doing it, because they can get away with it. Don't do things, because you can. If the star does what the coach says? The rest of the team will, too. You just keep doing what you do, and you won't believe where we get in the next couple years. Trust me. I went through this in high school. My coach pulled his hair out."

  "At least show me how to roll and wrap the leg coming in. That's going for the ball."

  "Tomorrow. We'll wrap your ankles, so we can py with this some. We'll do it when you're loosened up, but not fatigued like now. When are the two times you'll tend to get an injury?"

  "Before you're warmed up, and after you start to fatigue."

  "Amen. I'll get you some ankle supports, see if they affect your ball handling or shooting accuracy."

  "All right, sis."

  "Come on, honey. Let's get our spa package on…"