<USS Avalon> Log-Communion of Secrets
- From: Dodge Thomas <dodgethomas2000@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: avalon@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Sat, 20 Dec 2003 11:28:07 -0800 (PST)
Communion of Secrets
-Dodge Thomas
The restaurant wasn?t new. It wasn?t old, but it wasn?t new. It had the air of
a place newly built to look old. The young waitress that had seated Dodge had
left and hadn?t returned for quite a while. Finally, amidst a clutter of
dishes, she arrived.
?Would you like anything to drink?? She offered politely.
Dodge half-realized that he hadn?t even looked at the menu, let alone decided
on something to drink.
?I?d like a coffee,? he mumbled. ?Without cream.? It was only an afterthought,
as Dodge neither drank nor cared for coffee.
The waitress smiled for a moment before screwing her face up oddly. Then she
was gone. Dodge glanced up from his menu, wondering where she had gone. It was
as if she had simply vanished. For a moment, Dodge considered this. Then she
was back, again surrounded by dishes and all manner of dish-room clutter. Why
is she doing dishes? Nobody does dishes anymore!
?I?m sorry sir,? She smiled and Dodge highly doubted her sorrow. ?We?re all out
of cream. You?ll have to take your coffee without milk instead.?
?But--?
?Are you ready to order now, sir??
Dodge glanced at the menu. ?Um?I?ll have some spaghetti, okay? Marinara sauce
is fine, no meat.?
?That?s wonderful! I?ll be right out with your coffee.?
Dodge watched her leave with a bit of curiosity. He couldn?t quite remember why
he was dining out, nor where. The waitress returned with his spaghetti and set
it down in front of him, along with his coffee.
?If you need anything else, please feel free to ask me.?
He glanced at the dish, suddenly realizing that he wasn?t hungry. It looked
bland, almost unpalatable. And he didn?t like coffee. ?Yea?could I get some
garlic bread??
?Certainly.? She turned around, then turning back set a loaf of soft bread down
on the table. ?Would you like a knife??
?Uh, sure.?
The waitress glanced down, removing a large silver blade from a pocket in her
apron. When she looked back up, her face had changed. Dodge spoke, startled.
?Leila? What are you doing here??
Leila did not speak, but instead plunged the huge carving knife into his eye.
He?.
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He awoke in a cold sweat, gasping roughly. Almost immediately he began to
shiver. He pulled the blankets of the bed up in an attempt to warm himself, but
stopped abruptly. The blankets were not his. The bed was not his. The bedroom,
the view out the window, all were unfamiliar and definitely not his.
?Dear, are you awake?? A soft voice called from another room. He didn?t answer.
?Dodge, honey, are you up yet?? Leila stepped into the room, a white towel
draped around her body. She was using another to dry her long dark hair. It
was, of course, the Leila he knew, but there was something different about her,
besides the fact that she was calling him dear and honey. He stared for a
moment. Her hair was longer, and she looked thinner than he remembered.
?What are you looking at. You act like you?ve never seen me naked! She sat down
on the bed playfully, tossing the towel she had been using to dry her hair with
aside. Fine wrinkles lined her eyes and forehead, and in her long dark hair,
streaks of gray shone through.
?You?re?you?re older.?
?I beg your pardon.? She said in mock dismay, casually tossing a pillow at his
face. ?You?re no young buck yourself!?
?What? I?m only thirty!?
?Thirty!? She could barely contain her laughter. ?Dream on baby!? She handed
him a mirror.
He took a sharp breath when he saw his image. It was if he had aged twenty
years. Fine lines also were visible on his face and gray hair brushed his
sideburns. His beard and moustache were also intermittently filled with gray.
He stroked the facial hair, not remembering having grown a beard or moustache.
With a feeling of dread, Dodge looked back at Leila. She held a look of worry
on her face.
?Is everything all right Dodge??
?I--I don?t know. How old am I??
?Fifty-five.? The look of worry intensified.
?Where are we??
?Oh Dodge, you?re having one of your episodes again. Sweetie, I?ll get your
medicine and we?ll have you feeling perfect in no time.?
?Wait! Where are we?? Real fear was beginning to grow inside him as he looked
around the aged room.
?Outpost seventeen.?
?Why are we here? Why aren?t we onboard the Avalon??
?The Avalon? That was years ago! Before??
?Before what??
?Before the Great Disaster.? She hesitated. ?But it?s okay now! We?re safe!
Outpost seventeen survived and so did we!?
?We survived together then??
?Of course. For twenty one years we?ve been together! Don?t you remember any of
it??
Dodge nodded., then lied. ?It?s coming back now.?
?Good. I?ll go get your medicine for you.?
?Okay.?
Leila stood and left, leaving Dodge alone in the tattered bedroom. Everything
seemed to be in disrepair, from the blankets and pillows to the walls and the
very clothes he was wearing. Bits of uniform stitched together haphazardly.
What had happened indeed, that would drive Leila and he to live in such an
establishment. Where was Starfleet. Another question gripped his mind. Was
Starfleet even still in existence? He heard footsteps behind him.
?Leila,? He said turning around. ?I have to ask you one more question. What
ha--?
The blade she was wielding struck hard and fast, impaling itself in his flesh.
He screamed and...
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Awoke, already sweaty and shivering as it were. He sniffled a little. The
blankets were his at least. Everything around him was comfortably familiar. He
felt his face. No beard and no wrinkles. Sighing, he lay back down.
Movement to his left startled him and he almost fell out of his bed.
?Are you awake already Dodge?? Leila spoke gently, still trying to wake up.
It all came back to him at once?the planet, what was it called again??the
Tempest and her power-hungry captain?his had-been friend and his
rescue?sickbay?dinner with Leila, and then?
He smiled at her. Her hair fell around her face in disarray and she casually
blew some of it out of her eyes before propping herself up on one elbow. How
are you feeling. She reached out and gently touched the scar above his navel.
?Ouch!? he protested as a dull, throbbing pain became evident. ?Stop it!?
Her finger traced down, leaving the still-healing scar and moving beneath the
sheets. He jumped in surprised shock.
?Hey now! None of that!?
?That?s not what you said last night.?
?Well, we had a few drinks.?
?Oh, is that it?? She frowned and Dodge knew he had said something out of line.
?I?m sorry. It just that?well, do you really think it would work out between
us??
?We?ll never know until we try. Besides, when was the last time you had a
girlfriend.?
Dodge thought back to a life that seemed now so far away. He had once been
content living off the land. But then circumstances or fate, whatever, took all
that away?took her away. He sank back into the bed and stared at the ceiling.
?That?s what I thought.? Leila smiled playfully and tussled his hair.
?I don?t think it?s a good idea. I mean, we could get transferred or killed or
anything. If we stay friends then none of that can happen.?
?You mean ?let?s stay friends so I don?t get hurt again?, right??
Dodge sighed. ?It?s not that?it?s just?well, I guess it is that. I had a wife
once, and a kid. They?re gone now.?
?You mean dead.? It was more of a statement than a question.
?Yes.?
?Dodge,? She paused, staring across his chest at the wall beyond. Her eyes
stayed focused for a moment, then flicked down to meet his own. For a moment
more, she allowed herself to get lost in his dark, mysterious eyes, as if they
were the door to his soul and to his heart. ?Think of a match.?
?What?? He asked, confused.
She leaned over him and rummaged through a trinket box of his. When she
returned, she had a box of matches in her hands. The lettering was ancient,
fading almost to nothing and the color of the box itself was pale as a ghost.
?Hey! Those are mine! You can?t come by those anymore.?
?You can replicate more.? She took one of the matches out of the box and stared
at it for a full minute. Dodge watched, curious.
?People,? She said, ?are like matches.? with that, she struck the match-head
against the box and it flared up brilliantly. Then the fierceness faded out and
the wood of the match shrank, the flame burning to yellow. She blew it out
suddenly.
Dodge sat for a moment, not quite grasping the concept.
?The match lives, not when it?s lying in the box, but merely when it burns, and
it can?t burn forever. Not by denying life is life lived. You can?t go through
life afraid of your own shadow, terrified of making friends just because you?ve
had some bad experiences. I?m not saying to be reckless or anything, but ever
since I?ve know you, you?ve been nothing but a recluse. It?s like I said
before. Let?s stay friends so I don?t get hurt. But think of all the people you
hurt by doing that. By trying not to hurt yourself, you not only cause others
pain, but in the end you end up hurting all the same. I don?t want to see you
hurting.? She handed him the blackened matchstick.
For a moment he stared at it, twisted and exhausted, and he thought back to his
dream. He too had been old and exhausted, but still she stayed with him. He
looked back at her, deep affection welling up behind his eyes.
?I?m?I?m sorry if I hurt you?you?re right of course. Just promise me one thing.?
?Sure, anything.? She smiled at him.
?No knives!?
?All right.? Shrugging off a bit of confusion, she leaned over and kissed him,
and he knew it would not be the last time.
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