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Dancer

An excerpt from One Over X: Episode Six - For Sages and Lesser Fools

Dancer

He liked to explore the contents of the realm that he was entering. Was she there or only imagined? Did it even matter? There was music that gradually surrounded her and eventually became her. Her amazing eyes sparkled in the dimness of the room and stoked the desire within him into the raging passion that he fought to suppress. He ached to embrace her. She did not know him, not yet. The cruel irony of his ability crushed his spirit. She would never even know his real name.

She could not resist the beat and no virtual eye could peel away from the pleasure of watching her as she swayed to the music. Into the fantasy of her self-conceived destiny she escaped, as she whirled to the melody. She sought a personal paradise that only she could envision. It was a wonderful departure from the immediate burdens and concerns of the desperate destitution that the circumstances of her life had forced her to endure.

She could forget her childhood, the abusive relatives, and the force-fed dogma of hypocrisy. She let the music intervene to assuage some of that suffering. She didn’t want the melody to ever end. She did not want to return to the bleakness of her impoverished subservience. She did not want the suffering and self-doubt that attended her being. She did not want to loath those that had hurt her out of their ignorance or pursuit of impure designs. She sensed the forgiveness in the music. The freedom of the dance saved her for the moment and spared her from torment for a while. This music consumed her as a flame of purified passion expressed in the rhythmic flow of her body. She was the only viable essence and primary focus in the universe as at that moment only she existed and only he watched her. She did not have to submit to what the world had forced upon her. She was beyond it.

Lana was not her real name. There were good reasons for the secrecy, she believed. Yet he knew too much about her already. That bothered her except that he had always been supportive of her, as a friend.

She was always where she needed to be. The resistance depended upon her. The movement would endure the loss of any member but it would certainly be disrupted without her. She was the connection to the one insider. She was the link to Andy.

There was no one on the Lower Side that did not recognize her even if they did not know her name. Those that knew her suspected nothing of her importance to their future. She survived by working the marks in the clubs. Day or night did not matter. There were always clients and always offers from horny bastards. At the end she would return to her favorite club and unwind. Mostly she lurked in the shadows whenever she danced. It was not performance so much as the joyful expression of the music although if anyone saw her dance it was to his or her immense voyeuristic pleasure.

She would dance long after the last customer had departed the bar and continued until the bartender told her that it was time to go. Most times she could dance until the very last minute, as even the bartender was reluctant to ask her to stop. Had the world been a different place she might well have made a living doing what she enjoyed doing so much.

Lately, or the last few nights at least it was Brent that was the one lingering customer that refused to leave the virtual world that she had conjured. Of course he knew that she had noticed him. She had even spoken to him on many occasions, never revealing the history that she knew beyond the present. Brent had become a regular and usually came into the bar shortly before she arrived. Yet he never said little if anything to her or even flirted with furtive glances. Even if she could see more than his presence, that would have been a mystery to her.

It was all that she could do to refrain from demonstrating any feelings, expressing affection or desires couched in a dialogue. She did not know he was there. If he did not take care and have patience, he might never get another chance to see her. The prospect of that: losing him again frightened her even as much as he might fear losing her.

He could not intrude, not yet. He had to protect someone else. The chance to see Lana again was irresistible, even though it was dangerous. If she confronted him, he did not know what he would say. There was the omnipresent fear of the truth frightening her away. He dared not to even speak of a past that he fully savored though she had not yet experienced it. It would frighten her way, making her think that he was just as weird as everyone else that populated her bizarre life.

It was time for him to depart. The bar would be closing shortly and he did not want to overstay his welcome. He’d nursed a couple of beers that failed to extinguish the inferno that was burning within him. Only another day remained. The threshold of chance would seal this aspect, relegating it to yet another failed scenario. If Andy did not arrive by tomorrow night, then he would have to move on to another aspect and another version of Lana. The purpose still prevailed even if the versions of the players changed. He would miss his cybernetic honey.

From the inspiration of Lana, Brent conjured all sorts of remembrances. There were so many others that he had almost lost track except that within a moments focus that he could see a face and still recall a name. Why did he remember them all? In each case the relationship had not worked out. Some had ended in friendship though it was hardly the lasting sort of relationship that he desired. Others had just ended. Only Lana seemed real to him but he loved the fantasy of her as he really had never bothered to know the person beneath her façade. In his mind she was nothing like anyone that he had ever known. She might as well have been conjured of his latent yearnings for someone that had once cared about him or she could be someone intended to replace the partner in his one and only feeble attempt at marriage.

He leaned back in his desk chair, withdrawing from his monitoring of the virtual universe. It was a reality that until a moment ago had only existed inside his head. He pressed the Ctrl and the A keys at the same time, selecting everything in the document that had taken him all night to produce. He fought the impulse as his index finger hovered over the DEL key. At least this time he had bothered to read it. In his opinion it was long, meandering, complicated and frustrating. At times he had felt that he had no control over it. How was that possible? He had written it.

It simply flowed through him and into text to be stored in an archive. In some ways it mirrored the consternation that was his daily displeasure to tolerate. He hated everything that he had done in his life except for the three lives that he had brought into the world.

His overriding concern was whether his responsibility extended to more than just their lives. If he had made a viable universe, then it would endure beyond even his meddling. If the universe already existed before his focus turned upon it, then his task was merely to chronicle the events of that universe.

Whether anyone cared it had evolved beyond his control. There were too many others that were now involved in the franchise of the weird, warped cyber-world.

He rubbed his tired eyes, and then yawned as he stretched. He was tired enough to sleep though he dared not risk it - not yet, anyway. There was far too much left to resolve.

Lana would be in the club soon. It was the last night of uncertainty. If Andy arrived then events would progress along a known course. He could deal with that. If Andy did not arrive, then he might not see Lana again for a very long time.

E

posted by Unknown @ 8:48 AM