Arlo #6
“I think several people out there would disagree with that assessment. You can easily argue and win with the idea that accidents or sickness have no rhyme or reason. Sure, they can be avoided by being diligent and disease through careful preparation. But you would be hard-pressed to argue against the idea of murder or suicide. There is a clear intention in those two.”
“You could, yes, but what else can be done about them? There are already systems to dissuade both from happening. It doesn’t stop people from murdering each other, and all the aid in the world isn’t always enough to save someone intent on taking their own life.
There is tragedy and a strong human element in both, and while they are less random than disease or an accident, they are no less random or surprising to the world at large.
And it’s usually a surprise to the murdered.
Trying to find meaning in any death will bring no peace.
Understanding might help in the recovery process, but no real answers can be given. ”
“Ah, yes, the fundamental unknown, uncaring nature of the universe, and for some, God.”
“I’ll admit, most people bring up the subject of an uncaring universe or deity with a certain amount of bitterness that I don’t hear in your voice.”
He laughed. “I have plenty to be bitter about, Arlo. Whether or not God or the universe cares about me is not one of them. I’m perfectly fine with the idea.”
“Because the absence of a sentient will, guiding or punishing us, means we are wholly responsible for our own behavior?”
“I...yes, actually,” he said, and it was the first time I’d heard him surprised. “Exactly right. Are you guessing where I was going with that, or were you speaking from knowledge, saying what you believed?”
“I am,” I admitted. “However, I’m still unsure if I believe that because it’s simply the inevitable conclusion, or because I need to believe it.”
“Now, why would someone need to believe in self-actualization and realization?”
“It’s no different than people who need to believe in a deity or an afterlife.
Or those who need to believe that their hands are guided by fate, through tarot cards or crystal balls.
At the end of the day, every person needs something that brings them comfort.
Perhaps I believe in free will and a lack of fate because believing in it would mean I was destined for the life I led. ”
“Worried about bitterness?”
“Perhaps. Or worried that if there is some destiny, I’m missing it. I don’t know what bothers me the most about fate and destiny, that I’m finding a way to fail to live up to that potential, or that I’m perpetually at the mercy of a force I can neither persuade nor understand.”
“I would have to say the second,” he said with a chuckle. “Then again, it wouldn’t take a head doctor to figure out why someone like me might be uncomfortable with a powerful figure in control of my life.”
“I’m sure one could flip through Freud for a few chapters to figure that out.”
“Ugh, that coked-up sex fiend?”
“Like calls to like? Or is this disliking what one sees in the mirror?”
There was a pause, and then he let out a bark of laughter. “My oh my, wasn’t that deliciously sassy? Not that I disagree, of course. It is ironic, hearing me complain about a man too coked-up to think properly when our first meeting was with street pharmaceuticals running through my veins.”
“Surely someone with your wealth and connections could do better than street-grade drugs?”
There was a shuffling from his end, and his voice became a little distant, with an echoing quality. “For such an upstanding, thoughtful person, you don’t seem concerned with how I handle my personal life.”
“I have no problem with drugs or drug use,” I said with a shrug he couldn’t see. “Curiosity will lead people down all sorts of paths, and altering our perceptions and how our minds perceive things has been around for generations.”
“And addicts?”
“I feel pity for them. They race toward death, using drugs to block out the harshness of life for the trip there. It’s hardly worth condemning; we all have ways of handling the trials of living.”
“And the dealers?”
“Demand requires supply. Without addicts and users, there would be no dealers, no demand. And the reverse is true as well.”
“Just like that? Forgiveness for all? Understanding for even the dregs of society?”
“I avoid judging,” I told him calmly, even as I felt a twinge of guilt and anger.
It wasn’t that I was lying to him, because I wasn’t; I was always checking to make sure I didn’t judge others for living their lives in a way I could never truly understand.
I was leaving out that some people made that task extremely difficult at times, and I wasn’t always the best at keeping on track.
“Hmm, either you are a perfect candidate for sainthood or leaving plenty of things under the hood for me to root around and discover.”
“Let me guess...interesting.”
“Ha! Yes, I suppose I have become predictable. Odd, that used to be a horrifying thought, and now I suddenly find it comforting. Is that because of you...or have I started getting boring as I grow older?”
“I don’t think I’m the right person to answer that question.”
“Probably not, you seem to think of yourself as an uninteresting person. An assessment that, as yet, I have no choice but to disagree with. You are more than welcome to continue trying to change my mind.”
“That would infer that I was trying to change your mind in the first place.”
“Ah, yes. If there is no judgment of others, then that logically means you avoid trying to change other people’s behavior, doesn’t it? Or their minds for that matter.”
“You aren’t far from the truth, though I’d be lying if I said I didn’t indulge on occasion.”
“How comforting to know that at the end of the day, you are still human, with human flaws.”
“I am capable of picking up on sarcasm.”
“Good,” he said brightly. “Because I use it a lot, it’s nice to know there won’t be a lot of misunderstanding on your part.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “I have the distinct feeling you are funneling me back to your original offer.”
“Truth be told, I have probably made several offers. Have I offered to ride you until you see stars yet?”
A flash blasted through me, and suddenly the room felt colder as my skin grew warmer. “You...have not.”
“Ah, I usually save that for at least the first date with someone particularly interesting. So I suppose that would be a preview if you accept my offer to come to another party with me.”
It wasn’t like I was innocent, or some fluttering, pearl-grasping, offended moralist. Sex and sexual talk weren’t something I had never dealt with.
Even if I wasn’t the most eye-catching or attention-grabbing person, I had attracted enough attention to know what it was like to have someone hit on me, casually and aggressively.
The sudden heat at his almost dismissive way of talking about sex hadn’t come from a place of offense, though it had come from a good dose of surprise.
I wasn’t shocked that he could be so direct, even a bit crude; the man had wandered down to find me after leaving a hedonistic party.
It wasn’t surprising that he was as free with his sexual expression as he seemed to be with other things.
He had taken me by complete surprise by luring me into a state of comfort.
Our conversation had been serious yet casual, two people sharing and discussing ideas that had nothing to do with more.
..worldly habits. Yet he had made that blunt offer as easily as he had talked to me about death and life.
It was like cooling someone’s skin before suddenly pressing something intensely warm against it and grinning at how they reacted.
And despite what many people, even a couple of my siblings, thought, I was not asexual; I did not live with an absence of attraction or arousal, I was simply more reserved about it, especially with an audience.
It was the surprise that had generated the flush of arousal in me.
I didn’t realize until he caught me off guard, but I was generally prepared for someone making a pass, even a crude one.
Yet he took me by surprise, filling me with a sudden, unexpected, and probably inappropriate desire, considering my setting.
If there was any question about whether I was attracted to him, that could be put to rest. Not just because he had turned me on while being playful, but because the thought was now living in my head.
I had a good memory for faces and names and could picture him easily.
I wasn’t going to go so far as to imagine him doing something sexual, that felt.
..strange, even if he incited the feelings in the first place.
Thinking about someone sexually, especially with the intent to get myself off, wasn’t actually a violation, but it felt like one sometimes.
It was only after I’d known someone in a personal, sexual way that I felt comfortable fantasizing about them.
Yet despite that, I was suddenly extremely interested in what he might be hiding under his tailored clothes.
Even more, I found my mind imagining what could be there.
“Normally, this is where I would ask if I offended you, but if I haven’t managed to offend you with everything else. I have a hard time picturing you being offended over a little dirty comment.”
I swallowed hard and made sure my voice was steady. “You would be correct, I’m not offended.”
“Mmm, then I either surprised you...or turned you on,” he chuckled, delighted with himself for getting a reaction out of me.
To be fair to him, though, it was a notable achievement.
Even my siblings had to work hard to get a reaction out of me.
Ward had managed it in our second conversation, and over the phone no less. “Or both.”