[MARK00] 3809/2801: Terms of Engagement -- Reality

EDIT MARK record 00
Read the current version at: 
https://joelrees-novels.blogspot.com/2026/02/3809-2801-terms-of-engagement-reality.html

2801
Terms of Engagement
Reality

Terms of Engagement -- Double Fantasy

TOC

"I can see a family resemblance," I said as I caught up with her. 

That got me a gentle jab in the ribs. 

"Hey! Heh. Well, I can. That's definitely your little sister in the back." 

"Lisa. Shush." 

The girl in question waved from the back seat but Sapphire didn't wave back, so I did, as the car drew up to the curb. 

"Hi, Joe," her mother said from the passenger side front seat, expression unreadable. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Andrews." 

Her father got out of the driver's side and fixed me with a serious look across the roof of the car.

"Hello, son."

I ducked my head. "Mr. Andrews."

"We saw from the corner how you are taking good care of my daughter."

"Doing my best, sir."

He grinned. "Don't let us interrupt. Do you mind if we visit with your folks?"

Sapphire gave my hand a squeeze. 

"Please," I responded.

I was distracted for maybe half a second trying to remember when I had grabbed her hand, or when she had grabbed mine. It didn't matter.

Mrs. Andrews and Lisa got out, and we all went to the porch. 

My parents stood up, Mom trying not to wake Jennifer. She woke up anyway, and yawned and stretched.

Lisa joined Sapphire and me and gave Sapphire a side hug and I noticed a slight delay in Sapphire's return hug. I could sense my sisters gather behind us.

"Uhm, Mom, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. And Sapphire's little sister, Lisa, I am told." 

Lisa wrinkled her nose at me in a smiling moue. 

Dad grinned as he reached out to shake Mr. Andrews's hand. 

Mr. Andrews's smile as he shook Dad's hand seemed a bit both bemused and amused. Mrs. Andrews's expression became readable, reflecting mildly agreeable surprise and relaxing guard. 

Jennifer reached out to Ivette, and she retrieved her from Mom's arms. My mom extended a freed hand to clasp Mrs. Andrews's hand, a firm clasp that was hesitantly, and then more firmly returned.

"Uh, my sister Ivette and her daughter Jennifer, and two more of my sisters, Annabelle and Linda Lee." 

"Hi" and "Hello" from my sisters, and Lisa replied with the same. Jennifer gurgled.

Mrs. Andrews turned to my sisters. "Nice to meet y'all." Then she nodded to Ivette. "May I?" 

Ivette glanced at Sapphire, who gave her a tiny but enthusiastic nod yes. Then she dipped her head to talk to Jennifer, and asked, "Do you want to say hello to Sapphire's mom?"

Jennifer gave Mrs. Andrews a smile and a coo, and Ivette grinned and turned her over to Mrs. Andrews, who took her in her arms like she was remembering her own daughters. 

Lisa and Sapphire exchanged glances, and Sapphire finally relaxed. And released my hand.

Dad said, "No need to stand on formalities," with his usual grin. 

And Mom said, "It is just bare concrete, but we could sit down." 

They made room for Sapphire's parents, and the four of them sat down to watch and talk, while Lisa joined us on the grass to help spot, and Sapphire and I practiced some more.

We chatted while we practiced, and after a couple more failures and several more successes, Sapphire and i were gaining confidence. 

That is, Sapphire was gaining confidence in me. I was gaining confidence in myself and her and what we were doing.

And Lisa wanted a turn. 

It took a couple of failed launches to get us synchronized, but I was able to get her up on my shoulder, too. I could feel the difference between their weights, which was reasonable given their age difference and similar build. Not a great difference, maybe less than ten pounds, but she was easier for this beginner to lift cleanly.And it was clear she also had practiced.

Ivette's pager beeped. She looked at the display and announced, "I need to make a phone call, and then I think I'll have to get back to work." And she went inside to use the phone. 

Mr. Andrews joined us on the grass.

"I think you guys have this down pretty well."  

Sapphire and Lisa and I looked at each other. 

"Uh, thanks," I said.

"Mind if I help spot, since you just lost your front spotter?" He smiled wryly.

"What do you think?" I asked Lisa.

"You're going to spot, Dad?"

"Sure." 

He moved to the front spotter's position that Ivette had vacated, and I lifted Lisa again, getting her cleanly seated on my shoulder. 

Lisa said, "Steady, please. And form a stirrup with your hands."

"Huh?" I looked up at her and then back over the other shoulder to Sapphire.

Sapphire gave me shrug. "Go ahead." 

I checked my footing, let go of Lisa's waist, and formed a stirrup with my hands about the level of my waste, where her feet dangled. 

"Spot us," she said as she put her foot into my hands. My sisters and Sapphire moved closer.

"Be ready, sir," I said to Mr. Andrews. "Just in case." 

He nodded and moved closer. 

Lisa stepped into the stirrup. "Give me a lift."

I did, and she climbed up to stand on my shoulders. I did not look up, just raised my hands to her ankles to give her stability. I could just see her arms stretched out in a V at the edge of my range of vision.

Mr. Andrews clapped a slow clap. "Victory," he said, dryly. 

"Lisa!" her mother warned from behind. 

"Careful," I said.

"Steady," Lisa replied. "Get ready to catch me."

"I think climbing down would be safer," I suggested.

"I'm turning to your left, so I'll drop to your right." 

Her feet were moving, and it would have been dangerous to try to stop her. So I extended my arms to meet her, and let my legs flex as well, as she dropped down into my arms. Somehow I kept my center of balance well enough beneath her to absorb her momentum and catch her cleanly. She laughed and gave me a hug and jumped down to stand by her dad and give me and her sister a triumphant grin.

"I'm amazed," I said.

"That looks fun," Ivette's voice behind me did not agree with her words. 

"Do I get to try it, too?" Sapphire asked.

I turned to face my sister. 

"We don't want to push Joey too hard all in one night," she cautioned.

"He seems to have a natural understanding," Sapphire reasoned.

"Which is good, or Lisa would have ended up in a heap on top of him on the ground." Ivette's voice had a stern edge I didn't often hear from her. 

"I know how to spot my daughters," Mr. Andrews said, letting his amusement carry in his voice.

"Well, that's different." But maybe Ivette's tone didn't say she really thought it made that much of a difference. 

"Beginner's luck?" I suggested. 

My sister and I had a silent discussion, then she nodded ever so slightly, not enthusiastic, letting me decide. 

I thought for a moment, then moved to where Sapphire stood, and reached down and picked her up in fireman's carry as I had before. 

She cooperated, but gave me a puzzled look. 

"Wanna test myself." 

"Oh?" 

I gave her a small heft. She kicked and grabbed for my neck, but then relaxed. 

Ivette laughed.

Then I gave Sapphire another heft, with a little more oomph, getting her maybe six inches of air. This time she stretched it and made it look graceful.

She laughed. "Practice is good."

"Yeah." I nodded absently, considering possible ways to check my strength and reactions.

I turned with her in my arms, to face her dad. "Sir," I said.

And he gave me a puzzled look.

"Can you catch?"

He blinked. "I think so." He drew a bit closer, centering his weight and readying his upper body.

I put my legs into it and gave Sapphire a bigger heft, and she helped and caught enough air that her dad was able to catch her cleanly without moving any closer, and without me reaching in to help. 

"I feel like a sack of potatoes."

"You're much easier to throw around than a sack of potatoes. Potatoes flow downhill, and don't help push."

She laughed at that, too, as did her dad. 

"Coming back." Mr. Andrews got stabilized. "Ready." 

I set myself and he hefted her back. And I caught her cleanly. It was only about a foot of flight, but it gave me more confidence.

"Nice," she said. 

Ivette echoed her behind me. "Not bad." 

I set her on her feet, and she looked at me expectantly,

"Turn around," I said.

She did so, and I put my hands on her hips, a bit lower than before. She took three pliés for rhythm, and leapt upward, and I lifted her cleanly her onto my shoulder.

Again, I formed a stirrup with my hands. Sapphire stepped into it, climbing up like her sister had, forming a V with her arms. 

I was as careful not to look up as I had been with her sister, keeping my hands on her ankles to help her stay stable.

But she said, "Joe, look at me."

"Now I'm Joe for some reason."

"We have to be able to communicate."

I hesitated maybe a half a second more before looking up, being careful not to destroy our balance, and locked eyes with her. "So communicate."

"Climbing down to your shoulder will move our centers of balance around a lot."

"Now that you mention it, yeah."

"Dropping is actually a little easier and safer, since we know you can catch. But we could try and see if we can maintain balance --"

"Balance," I refrained from nodding, "is good."

"I'm going to move both feet to your left shoulder." 

"Okay. I guess I should get my head out of the way." I looked down to face front again and gave her dad a half a grimace, being careful not to disturb our balance.

Behind us, Ivette said, "Linda Lee, Annabelle, you spot Joe. Lisa and Mr. Andrews will spot Sapphire. I'll spot both."

"Thank you, Ivette. Not yet, Joey. Keep watching me. Keep your left hand on my left ankle, but don't push. I need it for positioning, not support." 

"Right." I carefully raised my gaze again and watched as Sapphire shifted her left foot to make room on my shoulder, then moved her right foot around the back of my head to get both feet on my left shoulder. 

"Okay so far?" she asked.

"Uh huh."

"How high can you reach with your right hand?"

I raised it as high as I could without tilting my shoulders. "About there."

"Good. Keep it there. Now look front, but keep your head and shoulders even and steady." 

I looked back level and her dad gave me a nod. 

And she crouched carefully down beside my head, taking my right hand for balance partway down. 

When she was in a squatting position, she said, "Now put your hands on my hips, just enough under to be able to give me a little lift, and set me on your shoulder."

While I was thinking that through, she released my right hand and steadied herself with her hand on my head.

She guided my left hand, and I positioned both hands accordingly, and she sat into them. I gave her some lift, and she slipped her feet out of the way, and we got her seated on my shoulder. 

And I said, "I guess from here I bring you down the usual way?"

"If I'm coming down, yes."

"Ivette needs to be going now, I think."

"Oh. That's right. Bring me down. We can practice tomorrow, work on something more graceful, maybe."

"Sounds like a plan." I grinned lopsidedly and gave her a little lift and set her back on the ground. 

And she turned quickly and gave me a tight hug, raising herself to her toes to say quietly in my ear, "Thank you. That was just wonderful." 

Then she gave Ivette a hug as Mrs. Andrews stood up with Jennifer.

Ivette said, over her shoulder, "It has been so good to finally meet you." And then she spoke into her ear, lowering her voice. My ears were pretty good back then, and I heard her say, "Be careful with the power you exercise over my little brother."

Sapphire's reply was distinct. "Understood."

Mrs. Andrews handed Jennifer over to Ivette and Ivette gave her a one-handed hug, and then gave Lisa a one-handed hug, balancing Jennifer on her opposite hip. And she shook Mr. Andrews's hand.

Then she said, "Night y'all!" and loaded Jennifer into her car in her car carrier, pausing just long enough to sooth Jennifer's nerves a bit about the car carrier, and drove off with a wave. 

Mr. Andrews said, as he turned to us, "Phi, you and Joe seem to be able to talk to each other. I suppose you won't be wanting a ride home?"

Sapphire gave him a hug. "Nine thirty. I promise, Dad." 

"We're holding you both to it. Son, you and I seem to have things we need to talk about sometime, but I think for now we let you two get to your studies. Charity, should we leave something for you and Mrs. Reeves to talk about next visit?" 

Mrs. Andrews nodded with a smile. 

"I could get a ride home with Joey and Phi?" Lisa asked, half-joking, half-hopeful.

"Nope." Sapphire's tone was gentle, but quick and firm, and they grinned at each other.

Two sets of parents chuckled pleasantly. 

And Sapphire's family bade us all good night as well.

Sapphire was holding my hand again as we watched them leave.

"I understand something about understanding that I may not have before," I muttered.

Sapphire gave me a puzzled look.

"Never mind. Let's go study."

We headed back up the sidewalk. 

"It was nice to see your parents again, Sapphire," Dad said as we went inside.

"Again? You know them?"

"They were students of mine at the college the year they got married. Bob said he had wondered if Joe might be my boy, but they weren't sure until they saw us here."

"Oh. Neat!" She gave my hand another squeeze. "How were they?"

"Good students. Worked hard. Helped each other." 

Sapphire hugged me. "Must be fate."

"I don't believe in fate," I said.

She turned and gave me a disappointed look. 

"But I do believe in God and angels."

Dad nodded without turning around. 

Sapphire wrinkled her forehead. "What's the difference?" 

"God can make things happen for us, but he lets us choose what we do about it."

She didn't look convinced.

"You know about Jonah and Nineveh, don't you?" 

 She still looked puzzled. 

"The big table in the den is open," Mom suggested. "Or you could study at the kitchen table, if the coffee table in the living room is too low. But I'm going to be working on some sewing for a little while in my sewing corner in the den."

"Is that the corner under the kitchen window where the sewing machine is?" Sapphire asked.

"That's it."

"That wall used to be an outside wall, didn't it?"

I explained, "The people Mom and Dad bought this house from told us they built the garage first after knocking down the kitchen wall between the duplex halves. Then they added a big patio between the garage and the house. And after a little while, they decided to put a roof over the patio. And it was still later they put walls up around the patio, I think."

"That's why it feels so open."

"It does get cold in the winter," Mom said.

"I can imagine that." 

"The big table would give us lots of room for books," I suggested, as I picked up my books.

"Space is good." Sapphire didn't sound very enthusiastic, but she picked up her books and followed me into the den. 

Dad and my sisters disappeared to whatever they were doing, and Mom got to work on her sewing.  

And Sapphire and I put our books on the big oak table and sat down together. 

I took a deep breath, looking at my books instead of at Sapphire, almost deliberately not reaching for her hand. 

Sapphire echoed my deep breath. "Do you suddenly feel shy?" she asked quietly. "I do."

"Today is suddenly catching up with me," I answered, also quietly. "It's our first date, I guess. If I stop to think, I just might, ..." I faltered.

She turned to look at me. So close, underneath her raised eyebrows, her eyes seemed deep enough for me to fall into. 

"... faint or run screaming into my room."

She laughed. "I might, too, if my room were anywhere close." She looked back at the table. What books have you got?"

I spread my books out in front of me.

"So there's your electronics book, we know about that, and calculus, too." She picked up the chemistry text. "Chem."

"Yah. Not my favorite subject." 

"Really?"

"Too much ad hoc convoluted theory to memorize. I probably need the lab more than I need the book."

"Oh." She looked puzzled. "Where's your English textbook?"

"I took the thesis class last year. Great teacher. Champion racquetball player."

"Racquetball? I guess he was pretty tough."

"Yeah, Ms. Leeds is pretty tough. And interested in math. Like Ms. Hayley at Hood, she emphasized the mathematical aspects of language."

"Your teacher was a woman?" 

"Yeah. She's pretty cool."

"And how many juniors were in the class?" She wrinkled her nose.

"Just two of us."

"Rick, too?"

"Rick took it last year, but at a different time." 

She sighed. "I thought you didn't like English that much."

"Ms. Hayley got me sort-of interested when she taught parsing and other technical stuff in ninth grade."

"Parsing does seem like math." Sapphire pulled a sideways smile.

"Uh-huh. Not high school algebra, but still mathematical. Ms. Leeds took us a bit farther, helped us understand contextual semantics, as well."

Sapphire leaned her head on my shoulder and laughed. "I'm lost as to what context has to do with math."

"I'm not really sure." (Don't get after me about this. Programming languages and the mathematics of grammars really is usually college-level math. I didn't yet know enough to explain.) "She did show us how the parsing rules change for some semantics. And she made sure we understood that the grammar rules we use are all post-hoc."

"Post-hoc?"

"We make them up after the fact. People speak, patterns form, philosophers observe and describe the patterns as rules. But they don't make up the rules. We all do together, and we change them as we go, to what we think works and is convenient."

"Oh. That's ... I'm not sure I want to think about that." 

I checked out her books. "Early Childhood Psychology, Modern Civics, Principles of English Composition and Expository Writing, Anatomy for Dancers."

"I can ask you about my English when we have questions."

"Sure. And Mom can help, if I get stuck."

Mom turned around and smiled and gave us a little waive.

"Is this your Mormon Bible?" She touched my Bible.

I thought for a moment how I should answer. "Yeah, but it's the King James version of the Bible, Oxford printing, quite possibly the same one your family uses. Just in a zipper cover to for carrying around."

She picked it up and unzipped the cover, looking it over, then opened it up and found the chapter index. "Hmm. Looks familiar. Here's Jonah." She turned to the Book of Jonah. "You write in your Bible?"

"Notes, references to similar scriptures. The colored highlighting is so I can find verses I thought were important again."

"Some kind of color code?"

"Red was important. Blue was new. Yellow was for cheering me up. Maybe. Mostly just the color it felt like it wanted to be marked."

She laughed quietly and then read a couple of verses out loud. 

"Well, it sounds like ours. So, God tells Jonah to go preach to the people of Nineveh, and then Jonah just runs away," she said, and pushed it over to me.

We traded reading verses through verse ten.

"It sure seems to me," she paused for thought. "Like God isn't letting Jonah run away."

"But he did run away."

"But God caused the storm, right?" 

"Making sure he rethinks things?"

"Doesn't seem like he's getting much of a choice."

"God really wanted someone to go tell the people of Nineveh to repent. You know, preaching the Gospel was what Israel was supposed to be chosen for. But most of Israel didn't seem to be up for it. Eking out a living from the land while living by a somewhat better set of rules than the other nations seemed to take everything they had to give. Maybe God didn't have a lot of good options for people to send."

She blinked at me.

"Preaching by example. The Israelites were supposed to at least preach by example, and they somewhat did."

"Let your light so shine?"

"Right. But some had to be called to preach in words, and sometimes those who were called didn't think they liked the calling. Jonah presents himself as one who at first refused, then changed his mind, I think." 

She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. "It's written in third person."

"Old English is not the only language in which people sometimes refer to themselves in third person, but it could also be that the scholars who memorized it or wrote it down to pass it down to us converted it to third person. I think the original was his own telling. But that's just my opinion."

"Just your opinion?" She didn't look convinced.

"Yeah. I might be wrong."

"But you don't really think so, do you?"

"It seems like a more useful way to read it than other ways. But I haven't studied it that much." 

She still looked at me doubtfully.

"I'm not saying you have to believe me."

"Sure you aren't."

We looked at each other.

"Okay, if you want to believe me that much, then you must."

She laughed.

"But only if you want to."

Mom failed to suppress a laugh, and we both looked over at her. She just shook her head and chuckled, didn't turn around. 

"So you really don't mind if I take a different point of view?" Sapphire gave me a mixed moue.

"I want you to take the point of view that makes most sense for you."

"Why didn't Jonah tell the sailors what he he had done to be so punished? It seems like he just told them to throw him in the water to appease God."

"Let's keep reading."

Which we did.

"So," she said as she looked at me after we read to the end of the chapter, "maybe he told them and he assumes we understand that he did?"

"That's what I think. Anyway, they apparently knew how to pray about it by the time they cast him overboard, and Jonah doesn't seem to condemn their prayer as superstition. Maybe he was able to teach them a little about prayer in spite of the storm." 

"Maybe I see how your point of view helps. Do you think it was really three days and nights in the belly of the whale?"

"I don't know. Maybe it just seemed that long. Maybe God made sure the fish swallowed him whole in a way that left Jonah's mouth close to a source of oxygen when the fish was on the surface, and maybe God kept the fish close to the surface for three days. Any way about it, it was still a miracle."

"But, if it wasn't three days and three nights, it wouldn't foreshadow Jesus in the tomb."

"Well, baptism is called the watery grave by Paul, maybe it was enough for Jonah's experience to foreshadow death and resurrection that way."

"You can explain everything?"

"Really, I think it's more likely to have been three days and three nights, from the way it's told. I'm just not going to get upset if it wasn't." 

She smiled. "You do know the Bible." 

"Not as well as I should."

"Do you think Jonah knew beforehand that the fish would spit him out on the shore?"

"I think he probably suspected God would get him back to shore somehow." 

"Why did God need to be appeased by the sailors? Couldn't Jonah have just jumped overboard?"

"Sailors wouldn't just dump a paying passenger overboard, nor would they let him jump over. Not under normal conditions. That would not be good for business. But God doesn't really need to be appeased so much as we need to experience the consequences of our choices."

She thought for a moment. "Consequences is such a harsh word."

"No consequences means no rewards, either. If we do something right, shouldn't we get to enjoy the consequences of that?"

"Not the same."

"How do we learn, if we don't experience the consequences?"

"You're sounding too much like my preacher."

"Sorry. Can we read the rest?"

She gave me a sly smile. "Sure."

We read chapter two.

"I think you might be right about this being Jonah telling it. It definitely sounds like Jonah himself praising God." 

We talked a little about that, then continued reading the third chapter to the end.

Sapphire pressed her lips together. "Can God repent? He can't sin, can He?"

"I understand that the word 'repent" is not actually derived from 'penitence'; that it actually means to turn. For us, it indicates turning our hearts away from sin to God."

"So the people of Nineveh repented, even though it doesn't use that word there." Sapphire nodded absently. "And I guess God just turned his wrath away, but the Bible says repented."

"That's the way I see it."

"Doesn't God know everything ahead of time?" 

"How He does that, I don't know. But I know that we don't know it ahead of time. We aren't really proving anything to God, we're just proving it to ourselves."

"He does know, but we don't? Why does that make a difference?"

"Because we have to be satisfied that we chose what we chose here."

"I'm not seeing it."

"There are things we don't see because we are subject to mortality. God is not subject to time like we are, and can see things, but what He sees doesn't constrain our choices."

"But if it happened, it happened, didn't it?"

I scratched my head and she just looked confused.

"For us, it makes sense to think that way, because time is a linear sequence of causes and effects."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. 

"Never mind. Just because it satisfies my complaints doesn't mean it has to satisfy yours, but I can tell you that I'm sure God's seeing all things past, present, and future, doesn't prevent us from making choices."

"Okay, I'll accept that you think so."

"Chapter four?"

"I guess."

So we read chapter four.

"So Jonah got in a snit." Sapphire laughed. "Maybe getting in a snit is not so bad."

"He learned something. I think we should be honest with ourselves and God about what we think. And God does love the gentile nations, too. Not just Israel."

"And," Sapphire paused for emphasis, "if Jonah hadn't gone through this whole process of choosing wrongly, he may never have been satisfied that God loved both him and the people of Nineveh."

"That's what I read in it." 

"Okay, so fate, but we can still choose."

"I could go with that, just between me and you. If we had philosophers in the room, though, they would define fate differently. Well, ..." I looked over at my mother. 

She looked back and said, "But not all philosophers." And then returned to the sewing.

Sapphire looked puzzled.

"Mom's college degree is in philosophy."

"Oh. That's kind of interesting."

"It was the only bachelors degree that even slightly interested me," Mom explained, without looking up.

"What do you think of fate, Mrs. Reeves?"

"I think philosophers have overthought the whole question. But Joe could be right about time."

"Maybe you can explain it to me sometime."

Mom turned and said, "Sometime, if you're interested in my opinions."

"I think I would be."

Mom nodded in agreement, and returned to her sewing. 

 We sat for a moment, then Sapphire said, "I think we should study."

"Yeah, I'm hogging all the study time. Sorry. I'll call this my Old Testament study for the day."

 We both looked at our books again.

Sapphire picked up her civics book, looked at me, and put it down. "I don't think I want to know your opinions about this."

"I won't read over your shoulder."

"I'm not sure I believe you." 

"Promise."

"I'm going to study this, instead." She picked up the childhood psychology book and started reading.

And I started scanning the assigned reading in my chemistry text. I got out a pencil and some paper and worked some of the problems.

Sapphire started humming quietly, then started singing lyrics, "I believe in miracles."

I responded with, "since you came along," and stopped, glancing at my mom.

Mom continued the song, "You sexy thing, you sexy thing, you."

"Mom!" 

She turned and gave me a meaningful look. "It does stick in the mind when it's playing on your radio, even if the lyrics aren't exactly appropriate for single folk."  

"I guess Hot Chocolate isn't on your approved playlist?" Sapphire turned back to me and raised her eyebrows.

"Hot Chocolate is the name of the band?" Mom asked. 

Sapphire nodded. "Yes. Uhm, I have that album." 

I replied, "We don't have approved playlists, but Mom and Dad do expect us to exercise discretion, and pay attention to what the lyrics are telling us. So I have some albums that I usually don't play all of the tracks on."

"Oh."  Disappointment in her voice.

"I cheat and record the tracks I like on cassette and play the cassette instead."

"That's a useful way to cheat. Can we listen to your records sometime?" 

"Sure. And just for the record, you aren't a thing, and," I faltered for a moment. "Well, you don't have to be sexy to be attractive. Or even beautiful."

"Oh." Same pronunciation, different inflection, completely different word. 

I failed to put the brakes on my tongue. "I guess sexy means different things to different people, but everybody can be sexy if they want to be. It isn't necessary most of the time. I mean, it shouldn't be."

Sapphire gave me a very perplexed smile and sighed. "True. People do make too much of being sexy." And she sighed again.

We returned to our studies and studied in silence for several minutes. 

"Asperger Syndrome," Sapphire muttered. Then she asked, "Do you know anything about it?"

"Asparagus?"

Mom snorted.

Sapphire turned to me and gave me an exasperated look and pointed at the words in her text. 

I grinned. "Sorry. I think I may have read something about that in the Sunday Section recently in an article by that Marilyn, what is it, Mach?"

She blinked. "vos Savant. Can I ask what your IQ is?"

"My parents never told me. I didn't think much of the test, though."

"Really?"

"Obvious cultural biases. Some of the most important kinds of intelligence can't be measured with written tests. And some of the questions, well, needed a none-of-the-above, but didn't have that option. Among other problems."

Sapphire looked over at my mom. "Mrs. Reeves?"

Mom shook her head without turning around.

Sapphire looked back at me.

"Everyone has things they are good at and things they aren't good at," I replied to her unasked question.

"That's not a very satisfactory answer for people whose IQs are normal, and even less so for people too low to go to a regular school." 

"I think that's a separate issue and a problem with our public school systems." 

She pulled on her ear. "I probably think so, too." 

"And IQs really aren't very meaningful."

She gave me a sour lemon response, and turned back to her book, and we continued studying.

I finished the reading for the chemistry class and picked up the calculus text. She finished her reading in the psychology text and picked up her anatomy text, then put it down.

"So you don't think I'm sexy." She put her hand to her mouth and smothered a gasp, looking over at my mom, who just continued working on the piece she was sewing.

"I don't think you want me to think you're sexy when you were up on my shoulders. It would not be safe for me to start thinking that when you're up there. Somebody could break a leg or something."

"That's," she let out her breath, "true."

"And thinking of you as sexy right now would interfere with homework, wouldn't it?"

"I guess you have a point there, too."

Mom turned off the sewing machine and said, "I think that's enough sewing tonight." She folded what she was working on and put it in her sewing basket, stood up, and came over to lean down and give Sapphire a hug. "Study good." 

And gave me nod and a raised eyebrow and left.

Sapphire watched the door Mom had just walked through. "I thought she was doing the sewing so she could keep an eye on us." 

"Nah." 

Sapphire picked up her civics text, checked the homework assignment and started reading. 

I continued with calculus, worked some problems, and put the text away. 

I picked up the electronics text, then set it down. "Nothing in here is relevant to what we are doing in class right now." 

I pulled out my query letter and looked it over, and decided to add a few things to it, mentioning the other processors we were studying, and making my interest in the prototyping kit pricing explicit. I wrote it out by hand in pencil, erasing and rewriting until I thought my additions were clear enough, then hand-copied it with a pen.

"I'm going to go get an envelope and a stamp. I can put this in the post on the way back from your house."

"I'll be here." Sapphire gave me a smile.

When I came back, she handed the letter back to me. "I think it's good. Would your folks let me use their typewriter? I could type it up pretty quick."

"Yeah, I think Dad isn't using it right now."

Dad showed up at the door. "Hey, you two should know, it's nine fifteen."

"Oh, my," Sapphire paused the briefest of pauses, "goodness." And she started collecting her books. 

I checked my watch. "Thanks Dad. And thanks for the offer, Sapphire. Mr. Mori said hand-written would be okay if our handwriting is not too hard to read, so I'll just send this."

"Okay."

"Got your books?"

"Uh-huh."

"Let's go."

I grabbed the keys to the car from their hook as we passed through the kitchen. Mom and Dad were working on something at the sink at the other end. 

"Thanks, Dad, Mom."

They waved us on, and we hurried outside. 

I held Sapphire's books and held the door of our Dodge Colt station wagon (by Mitsubishi) for her, but she stopped and stared at the seats.

"Fur seat covers?"

"That was Mom's choice. You know how vinyl bakes dry and falls apart in west Texas sun."

"Yeah."

"My brother, Dan, put fur seat covers on the Ford Fairlane he rebuilt, and Mom liked them. So I got to install these over the cracked vinyl after I helped Dan install his." 

She slipped into the bucket seat doubtfully, then relaxed. "It's nice."

I gave her her books and ran around and got in the driver's side.

She gave me a slightly disconcerted look, but didn't say anything. Instead, she shifted to lean back against the door, partially facing me. My heart took a slight dive as I tried to figure out what that meant.

I started the car, shifted into gear, eased the clutch pedal out, and we headed for the corner.

She put her hand on my hand on the shift lever and my heart skipped a beat. "So, now that your mom isn't listening, ..."

"Yeah?"

"When you said understanding understanding?"

"Under in understanding is actually related to 'inter', from Dutch or something."

"But you were talking about ...?"

"Mmmm," I stopped at the corner, then turned left. Her hand remained on mine as I shifted gears.

"Did you see what color?"

"I don't want to think about it. I'm driving. But, no, I didn't see any color." 

"No?" 

I turned left again at the stop light. 

"Culottes don't really show anything. At least, yours are long enough to not show anything. You know that from sketching stuff in art class, because of the folds and shadows."

"You're right." 

"But that's not the point. I was hesitating to look up because it's usually considered gauche to look up whatever a girl is wearing. Okay if I pull in here now instead of on the way home?"

"Sure." 

I turned in at the postal substation drive-through and down-shifted as she said, "That's true."

In first gear, I retrieved my right hand to steer. She added, "It's usually not at all polite."

I pulled up to the collection box and replied. "Rude, crude, and unattractive."

I reached through my open window and dropped the letter in the first class box.

"But rules of etiquette have to be adjusted for cheer dance," she protested, as I pulled out of the parking lot and headed to the stop light. 

Her hand returned to resting on mine. 

"Yes, you made that clear."

"Should I promise to wear bloomers, tights, culottes? Something sure to cover my underwear when we're practicing and I'm not wearing the uniform?" 

"I would appreciate that. But it's not what can be seen that drives a guy nuts. It's what can almost be seen. Anyway, for my part, I'll promise to keep the prurient curiosity shut down, even if I see something I shouldn't." 

"Prurient curiosity?" I could feel her eye roll, even though I kept my eyes on the intersection ahead.

The light was red. We waited. 

"So I am sexy."

The light turned green. 

"Sexy is in the eye of the beholder," I replied.

She snorted as I engaged the clutch and turned right. After some thought, she commented, as if to herself to herself, "Alright, if beauty is, I guess sexy would also be."

(Perhaps I should point out that this conversation never happened when I was in high school in the real world. Maybe it happened, in bits and pieces, with different girls, when I was in college.) 

"In seventh grade, ..." 

She interrupted, "You had a habit of looking at girls' hemlines and necklines."

"Yeah. I don't want to go there again."

"You weren't the only guy looking."

"I guess not."

"A lot of guys did that. Wuss did that. I thought it was fun." 

I turned right again. "Really?"

"For a while."

"Kind of a thrill?"

"Yeah, you could call it that. I didn't mind it when you looked, either."

"Sure you did."

"Okay, sometimes I did and sometimes I didn't. But, well, at first, you were pretty obvious. That was gross. But after the school year got started, you changed."

"I got some things figured out -- Like, you say, I wasn't hiding where I was looking nearly as well as I thought, and I figured that out."

"I could tell. At first it made me worried when you changed, but you still seemed interested." 

"My fantasies themselves were making it hard for me to talk to girls. There was a feedback effect between fantasies and looking at legs and, uhm, ..."

"Breasts? Hips?"

"skin and curves and where fashion hid them. Just barely. The fantasies would gum up my brain, and make it hard to talk to you. To all the girls. So I started shutting the fantasies off."

We were both silent as I followed the curve in the road.

"Heck. The fantasies make it hard to actually even see you. The real you. As a person." 

"Can I ask what you fantasized about?"

"No."

We were both silent until we arrived at her house and I parked the car in their drive.

"I'm pretty sure it's not stuff you'd want to know the unless we get married. Nine twenty-three." 

"We have a little time to talk." She shifted in her seat and faced the windshield, leaning against my shoulder across the transmission well. 

I reached my arm around her shoulder and tried to meet her half way. She leaned in more, letting her head rest against my cheek. 

"Bucket seats and five-on-the-floor kinda gets in the way, I guess. Sorry. Did I see the curtains move?"

"Lisa. Maybe I do want to know." 

I thought for a few moments. "Got pretty weird. Seventh-graders have no concept of what sex is." 

"Do high school seniors have any better ideas?"

"Some apparently think we do. I doubt it."

"And?"

"I'm not sure I want to talk about it until, " I stopped myself.

"Until?"

"Unless we get married."

"Why?"

"I think you know why."

"Is it embarrassing?"

"More like I don't want to be tempted to find out the difference between fantasy and reality. Unless we're married. Besides, I don't do that any more. I've put the fantasies behind me."

"Really?"

"I'm able to talk with you, am I not?"

She chuckled. 

I looked at my watch. "Nine twenty-eight."

She sighed. "Okay. You win this one."

"I think we both win. I hope we both win." 

She turned her head and gave me another moue.

"Let's go beat the clock," I said.

She nodded resignedly, shifted again, and opened her door. 

I didn't quite scramble, but she let me make it in time to hold the door for her.

On the porch, I reached for the doorbell.

"Silly." She opened the screen door and dragged me in.

"Did we make it in time?"

Lisa was sitting in the living room watching TV. "Nope."

Mrs. Andrews came in carrying a dish towel. "Good enough. But are you sure you're home?"

Mr. Andrews came in. "Lisa, how long were they parked?"

"A little more than five minutes."

"How many times did they kiss?"

"Are you kidding? No excitement at all."

Mrs. Andrews said, "C'mere, Joey." 

I went, and she gave me a hug. "I think I like this Marmon."

I dropped my head and chuckled embarrassedly and hugged her back. "I appreciate that."

Mr. Andrews reached over and shook my hand. "Glad to have a decent guy interested in my girl." 

We made some small talk, and then I said something about needing to call Rick, and said good night to Sapphire's family. 

Sapphire followed me out to the porch. 

"Thank you, Joey, for a wonderful date."

"Feels like first, second, and third. Date, I mean."

She laughed. 

We hugged, and I said, "It's so good, as my sister said, to finally get to know the real you." 

She buried her face in my chest and didn't say anything for more than a minute. When we finally separated, neither of us said anything. She just raised her hand, and we touched fingertips, and I got in the Colt. I had to break the connection between us to look behind me and back out safely, but we both waved as I left. 

"Good night Lisa." I whispered. "Good night, Mr. and Mrs. Andrews. Sleep good, Phi."

The drive home was in automatic mode. Fortunately, there was no traffic. 

At home, I called Rick.

"So how's the charade?" he asked.

"We'll see tomorrow, but if this is a charade, she deserves an Oscar or whatever that award is." 

"Uh, as in ..."

"No, we did not do any making out. No dramatic love scenes. Holding hands, sure. I gave her a hug at the door when I left."

"If she's still speaking to you tomorrow, it's definitely a charade." 

I laughed. "Does not feel like a charade. We'll see. Anyway, both Sapphire and I have okays from our parents for practicing here after school."

"Yeah, Maralea called already, before I got home. Cyndy or Hec gave her my number. Mom, Dad, and Greg are asking me all sorts of questions I don't have any answers to."

I laughed again.

"You think it's funny."

"You'll survive."

He laughed. "Yeah. I think it's funny, too. I'll survive. Hey, my boss says he'll let me come in a half-hour later so I have time to eat. Says he thinks I need to do this."

"He's right."

"I also mentioned that I'm looking at the SWTPC kit, and he says he's interested in what I find out about it." 

"I got my inquiry to Motorola posted." 

"Cool."

We talked a bit more about the electronics class and about calculus.

When I hung up, my parents were waiting for me, and we talked for a while. Both of them were in listening mode, not telling, not prompting. I was the one who brought up the culottes, and they listened without comment while I tried to recall the conversation.

Dad nodded. "You have known each other longer than the usual first date, so maybe it's not too early to be talking about."

Mom smiled. "I'm glad you can talk about it instead of doing it." She paused. "So far."

My interview with God was a little more in depth, and I pre-read the introductory chapters in books of Moses and Abraham in the Pearl of Great Price, which just happened to be the right chapters for the Seminary class in the morning. I left off before the Genesis chapters and got some sleep.

TOC		Next
Where it starts

Copyright 2026 Joel Matthew Rees