FIC: "My Journal About My Life and Stephen and Miranda" by Adela (Minerva/Severus) Part 3

[kelly_chambliss]

Part 3 --

August 25, 2000

Alot has happened since I wrote about Miranda and Stephen being spies and aliens. As soon as Dad and Pop got home, I told them all about it. Pop thought it was funny at first, said I was turning into "a regular Gladys Kravitz." (That's from an old TV show called Bewitched, where this witch lived in a normal neighborhood, and no one knew she was a witch except her husband, but this lady Gladys from across the street kept seeing all the odd magic things, but no one would believe her, they just thought she was crazy. Of course I don't think Stephen and Miranda are witches.)

But when Pop and Dad saw how serious I was, they got serious, too. Pop was like, "Well, we shouldn't forget that Gladys Kravitz was right, after all."

Dad's idea was that we should invite Stephen and Miranda over and just explain what I saw and see what they had to say. "Miranda strikes me as a sensible woman," he said, "and Stephen may be an odd fish, but he seems reasonable enough when I talk with him."

I was a little nervous about this, in case they were something dangerous, but Dad and Pop explained that they really didn't think Stephen and Miranda were aliens. Dad said, "And while it's not impossible that they are spies, we should at least see if there's an alternative explanation that seems more likely. We can always call the authorities later if we need to." (If you think he was making fun of me, he wasn't. Dad never does that.)

So we invited them to come over for drinks the next night after dinner. Dad went next door to ask them and to explain what was wrong and to say how important it was to me. And they both came, Stephen, too. He wore a white shirt with the collar open. And you could see his scars. He does have them, and they are pretty bad, but they do just look like scars and not really like alien markings or a simbiant, which is a relief.

Dad got everyone a glass of wine and me a Sprite and we sat in the living room. Stephen and Miranda sat next to each other on the couch, but not touching. I told them what I had heard and seen, and they didn't seem mad or dangerous at all, they just listened.

When I was done, Miranda said, "Yes, I can certainly understand why you are worried, Adela." (I think this was the first time she didn't call me Miss Edwards, it was more like she was talking to me as a friend.) Then she smiled, and she doesn't look stern at all when she does that. "I almost wish I could tell you that we are aliens or spies, because I fear that once you know the truth about us, you'll find us rather boring."

This is what she told us.

She said, "I suppose you could say that Stephen and I have come to your country as refugees. We were unlucky enough to be caught in a war zone, and even though the side we supported eventually triumphed, we felt we had lost too much to be able to stay on. As you see, Stephen was badly injured in the fighting and had to undergo a long and painful recovery. He had just got back on his feet when we learned of the legacy from his great-aunt, and, well, the time seemed right to make a change."

"How did you end up in a war zone?" asked Dad.

Stephen said, "We were there as teachers. Civilians, in theory -- not soldiers. But war doesn't respect such distinctions, and we didn't have the luxury of staying out of the line of fire."

Miranda continued, "We both did what we could to protect our students and help in the fighting, but it was a dark and difficult time, and when the war was over, we found that a great deal had changed. So when Stephen chose to leave and start afresh in a new place, I decided to come with him."

"We'd grown used to one another," Stephen said and gave her a kind of half-smile.

I thought it was probably now or never, so I said, "Are you married?" Dad shook his head at me, but I figured it was my only chance to find out.

But Stephen said, "No."

So they aren't married, I am sorry to say. But I still think they are in love, you should have seen how they looked at each other. It was Stephen's Miranda expression and then some.

Dad said, "Well, the war sounds very difficult, but I'm glad you've recovered, Stephen."

I guess the war story does make sense, but that was only part of it. "But what about the vines and the giant squid and the fire stick and the floating whiskey bottle?" I asked.

Miranda looked puzzled and said, "The giant squid?"

"When the vines were attacking Stephen, he said, 'fuck me with the giant squid' and then Miranda made fire come out of a stick. . ."

Stephen made a sort of choking sound, and Miranda raised her eyebrows at him. "I apologize for my language," he said, "but I didn't realize you were close by. It's just an expression. I was annoyed because of the vines."

He turned to Dad and Pop and said, "I work with rare plants and their possible medical applications in salves and the like, and these vines are a particularly fast-growing species that is best controlled by burning."

"They sound rather dangerous," Dad said.

But Stephen said no, what happened yesterday was just a fluke. "In any case, the greenhouse is locked and alarmed," he told Dad. And he gave me a little look. (Which was totally not fair, because it was Rosa who went in there without asking, not me.)

"What about the fire stick?" I asked.

"That was just one of those small. . .I'm not sure what you call them here. Barbeque lighter? Miniature blowtorch?" Miranda said.

"A mini-torch, probably," Pop said.

Miranda nodded. "As for the whiskey bottle, well, I'm afraid that's one of Stephen's hobbies." She looked at him over her spectacles, and he explained.

"I like to tinker with labor-saving devices, and I've been experimenting with ways to send things from the house to the garden without my having to go inside or drag Miranda outside. What you witnessed was my new fishing-line pulley. Very thin line; I daresay you couldn't see it from where you were standing."

"But you made glasses appear out of thin air!" I said to Miranda. She really did, I saw her.

She and Stephen looked at each other, and he gave her the same kind of smug smirk that Rosa gives her brothers when she gets the better of them somehow. "Go ahead, Miranda," Stephen said. "Explain that one to the child."

Miranda looked a little embarrassed. "It's silly, I know," she said. "But I enjoy magic tricks. I had an uncle who was a magician -- on the stage, that is -- and he taught me some of his secrets."

Then she said, "Miss Edwards? If I may?" and reached toward my hair. When she pulled her hand back, there was a gold bracelet in it. "For you," she said and gave it to me. "With our apologies for frightening you. I had the whiskey glasses with me when I came outside yesterday; I was planning to show Stephen the fruits of my practice sessions."

Pop leaned back in his chair and applauded. "That's excellent, Miranda," he said. "Maybe some day you can run a sword through me in a box or something."

"Or something," Miranda said, and Stephen laughed.

"There's just one other thing," I said. Everything seemed to have a logical explanation, just like Dad said it would, and I'm glad they aren't spies or aliens. But there were the lawn chairs that just appeared like out of nowhere, so I asked about them.

Miranda shook her head. "I don't know how to explain that," she said. "The chairs were folded next to the tree, and Stephen opened them while I poured the drinks. No magic tricks there."

"You must have looked away for longer than you thought, Della," Dad said. "Time can be a slippery thing."

That makes sense, I guess. But it really did seem like just a couple of seconds.

Pop gave everyone another drink, and Miranda and Stephen stayed a while longer and talked about how they liked the neighborhood and about Stephen's garden and Miranda's research, and Pop and Dad talked a little about the university and their jobs and how they could introduce Stephen to some of the chemistry faculty and Miranda to the rare book librarians. Finally they got up to go, and I said thank you for the bracelet, and Pop showed them to the door, and everything is fine now.

---///---

September 5, 2000

Tomorrow is the first day of school. Rosa is in my class, yay! (last year she wasn't). I might not have much time to write when school starts, so I just wanted to say that it has been a great summer. I learned alot about writing, and I got to go to the beach with Rosa and her family, and I am still friends with Stephen and Miranda, and they are not aliens.

---///---

September 30, 2000

I HAVE FOUND OUT THE TRUTH ABOUT STEPHEN AND MIRANDA!!!! About whether they are in love with each other!!!

But there is also something very sad. I will try to tell it like a story.

Yesterday was my birthday. Pop and Dad took Rosa and me and Dr. Reese and Sara from my art class to dinner at the Olive Garden. We asked S & M, but they had other plans, and I am so glad they did because otherwise I would not have found out the truth.

I do not visit them as much since school started, but they haven't changed. I have not seen anything strange over there since that time last summer. Sometimes Pop says, "what's the latest on the magic next door, Gladys?" but of course there isn't any.

It was a fun birthday. Dr. Reese gave me a new journal because I have almost filled up this old one. Pop and Dad said we will take a trip over Christmas. And when we were pulling in our driveway after dinner, we saw an owl flying. We don't see owls very often, so that was cool.

We had ice cream and cake when we got home, yellow with pink frosting, because I am weird and don't like chocolate. After everyone left, we saw that Stephen and Miranda were home from wherever they went, because the light was on in their kitchen. Pop said I could take some cake over to them. I went to their back porch and was going to knock on the door when I heard somebody crying.

It was Miranda! I looked through the screen door, and she was sitting at the table. She was already in her plaid robe ready for bed, her hair was in a braid down her back, and Stephen was wearing a bathrobe too, a black one, I think it was silk. Just about everything he wears is black, except he wears white shirts sometimes.

There was some mail or something on the table, and Stephen was standing there reading a letter. Miranda was holding a handkerchief, and her eyes were red and she said, "I knew it was bad news as soon as I saw the owl. But I never thought. . .she wasn't even old! It's such a waste. I didn't think we'd never see her again."

Stephen said, "I know," and he put the letter down and started to rub her shoulders. "At least Flickick (?) says it was quick. And you know she'd have wanted it to happen this way -- something natural."

"I suppose," Miranda said, but she didn't sound convinced. "It's just. . .I don't know, so ironic, that she should survive the war and then drop over dead now, when she thought she was safe."

Stephen said, "There's a great deal left of her. Her greenhouses. And our garden, too. All my cuttings came from her."

He must have thought this would make Miranda feel better, but it didn't. She said, "Oh, Sevris, sometimes it seems we've lost absolutely everything that mattered," and she put her head down on her arms and just sobbed.

It was awful. I hate it when grownups cry. I hate it. Pop did when Grandma Jevic died. It's worse than when kids cry. Dr. Reese says that's probably because when kids cry, sometimes you can fix the problem. But when adults do, you usually can't.

Miranda was so unhappy, I never saw her like this before, not even the time I thought she was a tragic lover. It was just awful. And Stephen looked awful too, his face was all twisted and he was biting his lip.

Then after a minute he turned back to Miranda and started to unbraid her hair, real gently, and when it was all undone, he stroked his fingers through it and made little sssshhhh sounds. I don't think he was trying to make her be quiet, he was just being soothing. My dad does that.

I know I should have left, but I didn't want to make a noise and have them hear me, and anyway, I wanted to see what would happen, if they would feel better. It didn't seem right to go away when they were both so upset. So I stayed.

Eventually Miranda wasn't crying so much. Stephen went to the sink and got her a wet towel and waited while she wiped her eyes and then he said, "We haven't lost everything, you know. Some things haven't changed." And he bent down and tilted her chin toward him and he kissed her!!!

They are in love with each other, I was right! ♥♥♥

Miranda stood up and kind of whispered, "Sevris" (I think that is a pet name) and she put her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her and hugged her, and they just stood there for a minute pressed tight together. Then he started to kiss her face all over, just soft little kisses, with his hands in her hair.

And then all of a sudden they were really kissing. I mean really. The people-in-love kind of kissing. I know what that is, I've seen it in movies. It's when people open their mouths and it is not soft any more. That's the way Stephen and Miranda were kissing.

Then Stephen slid his hands all the way down Miranda's back until he was holding her bottom, and she slid her hands under his robe. It opened up a little, and I do not think he was wearing anything underneath.

That's when I knew I better get out of there fast, because I think they were going to have sex, and I didn't want to see it.

First of all, sex is a private thing. Dad told me that when I asked about him and Pop. And second of all, I saw a man and a woman have sex in a movie once. Pop didn't know that scene was in the movie when he took me to see it, and afterward, he said did it bother me, and I said no, because it didn't. Pop and Dad just treat sex like any other thing to explain, and so I know about it and it's no big deal.

But it is quite ugly to look at. I said so to Pop after the movie, and he laughed and said when people are involved in it, they never think about how it looks.

Miranda and Stephen were still just kissing when I went home, but their hands were all over each other, and his robe had slipped off some more.

He has more muscles than you would think for such a skinny man.

I told Dad and Pop all about everything -- how Miranda saw the owl, too, and that meant somebody died (I didn't know that, it must be like when your nose itches, it means you will have company. So it's a good thing you don't see owls too often). I told how it was Miranda and Stephen's friend that died and how Miranda cried and Stephen's face was all screwed up.

And I told a little bit about the kissing. Dad got all serious and said I should not have stayed peeking in the door like that, it is an invasion of privacy. But he did admit that I was right about Stephen and Miranda being in love, and today he let me take the cake to them again.

Today is Saturday, so I went over as soon it wasn't too early.

Stephen was in the kitchen making tea. He said thank you for the cake and would I like some tea. This is the first time he ever offered me anything, and he wasn't being sarcastic at all. But I had to say no thank you because I don't like tea. Then he said "Orange juice?" and I said, "yes please!" and he poured me some.

He picked up the tea cups and called out, "Miranda, the child is here" and went into the living room. I took my juice and followed him, and she was sitting in one of the chairs and there was a fire in the fireplace even though it wasn't cold.

He gave her a cup of tea and told her I'd brought cake. She said Happy Birthday, they had a present for me! And it was a little plant in a pot. It is dittany, which is an herb, and Stephen is going to show me how to take care of it. And he said maybe next spring he will help me put in my own herb garden in my yard!! Because let's face it, Pop is never going to get around to making a garden.

I wanted to say that I was sorry about their friend, but I'm not supposed to know about it. They still seemed a little quiet and sad, but mostly they just looked like normal. Miranda had her hair up, and Stephen had a black shirt on. If they had sex last night, you couldn't tell.

But while I was looking at the dittany, I could see out of the corner of my eye that he touched her cheek and then he put his hand on her shoulder, and she reached up and held it. His hand, I mean, not her own shoulder. And they kept on holding hands even when I put the plant down and went over to them.

They are in love for sure. I knew I was right all along. But I am glad they are not tragic.

In the future I will try to respect people's privacy, but I am not going to stop observing and recording Miranda and Stephen. They are way too interesting.

I think someday I will be able to make a really good story out of this.

Comments

eee!

[lethallunatic.livejournal.com]

Great conceit. And convincing – this sure sounds a lot like what twelve-year-old-me woulda written (did write, minus the interesting witchy bits). Especially love the attention to the kinds of error that precocity alone can produce.

'Tyranny of the iris' is priceless; I have been and will again I'm sure be guilty of it.

Love queer parents with a scifi habit. Love that 'symbiant' is a go-to explanation for weirdness for the child of queer parents with a scifi habit.

The entry for August 23rd is so many kinds of perfect, including the UnanticipatedLOL! kind.

Re: eee!

[kelly_chambliss]

Thank you for reading/commenting! I'm glad you enjoyed the story; I became quite fond of Adela as I was writing her. The plot is a sort of personal reversal for me: Adela is a 12-year-old with two sci-fi-loving fathers; at the time I started the story, my partner's son was a 12-year-old with two sci-fi-loving mothers. (He's 13 now, and he's not interested in writing, but he still has two mothers /g/).

[grey_gazania]

I know this is a bit old, but I just read it and want to say it's really wonderful. :)

[kelly_chambliss]

Thanks for reading! I have a real soft spot for Adela. (There's a sequel, too.)