Half-way to the Stars

[JMR: Warning, this definitely treads the edges of being too intimate to print.]

As he awoke, the familiarly unfamiliar weight on his left arm was pleasant, if light, and he rolled over to cuddle with his bride without opening his eyes, nuzzling the back of her neck. Momentum carried him a bit further than he was used to, and they floated together above the bed for a moment before sinking lightly back.

He kissed her nape.

"Mmm. Tickles." She shivered and squeezed his hand. "Nice."

A sharp odor that seemed like it ought to be familiar assailed his nostrils. Fireworks? Gunpowder?

He opened his eyes. Through the veil of her hair, the darkness, pinpricked with tiny lights, in contrast with the painfully brilliant silvery glow in which the bed itself was bathed, also seemed tantalizingly familiar and at the same time unfamiliar. He wondered in his mellow thoughts why he didn't remember the yellow-white desert landscape wallpaper motif visible around them, then rolled over on his back and contemplated the blue, green, brown, and white crescented light fixture floating above their bed, as the oddly excess momentum caused him to bounce lightly again.

"More!"

His bride's demands took priority over thoughts about design motifs, and he lost consciousness of his surroundings again for a time.

"You are such a romantic!"

He awoke again, floating on his back. In the darkness, he could trace the outline of his bride's body against the glow of the brilliant pinpricks in the darkness around them, where she was sitting up, firmly gripping the bed fabric with one hand, humming the tune of the song he had serenaded her with the evening before as he carried her across the threshold of their apartment.

The brilliant glow illuminating the bed was gone, along with the landscapes, and the light fixture above was apparently extinguished, all replaced with the surreal black darkness and its brilliant pinprick lights, dusted in places with glimmering clouds of shining silver. The view reminded him of the night sky viewed from some rare place on earth where city lights were absent, but the configurations didn't quite match constellations he knew.

"Romantic?"

"Which is to say, ...," she began singing, then stopped. "But there's a small problem."

"What's that?"

"What does one do, halfway to the stars?"

Realization drifted into his mind, and he chuckled as he sat up carefully, holding onto the bed with one hand, and wrapped his free arm around her again.

"I guess we go back. Next stop Jupiter?"

"We could."

"What stars did you take us halfway to?"

"The nearest triple, whose name no one seems to agree on."

"Makes sense. What are we breathing?"

"Unimportant details. Ready to go?"

"We get to come back?"

"I think it's up to you, if can we ever get another break like this."

"We'll claim parental leave."

"Considering who the boss is, I'm sure we can do that. I've waited so long."

"We've waited."

[JMR: I'm considering using this for the honeymoon scene for one of my paranormal love story novels. But of course there are details that would have to change.]

[JMR201909121359: Heh. Misheard lyrics: "let me play ...". Maybe I should fix that. But then I'll have to write whole new lyrics to avoid attracting copyright lawyers with nothing better to do:

We'll fly to the hinter moon or maybe twice as far,
Tour the inner planets, or go halfway to the stars.
When two are so happy together there is nothing they can't do.
Which is to say, I love you.

I'll have to write another verse or two later. For now, this should do.
]

De-mo ne! (Yabuts)

[This is a scratch chapter of A Heathen in the Kingdom of Peace. Parts of it may find their way into the novel, maybe not as I've written it here.]

Jeremy: It translates roughly as "Yabut".

Spring Moon: "Yah-baht"?

Hailey: "Yeah, but".
  Or, "Yes, but,"
  Followed by some defense of one's own opinions.
  And if that's what it means,
  I agree with your mother and the teachers.
  Jeremy does this all the time.
  "De-mo ne." Hah. It even sounds yabutty.

Jeremy: I do not say that.

Hailey: Not in so many words,
  but you're always adding information people don't want.

No response for a moment.

Spring Moon: Extra information.
  That might be what my mother was talking about.

Jeremy: You know, Hailey, when you accuse me of things like this,
  it presents me with a dilemma.

Spring Moon: Di-lemma. Two horns ....
  So what are the two horns?

Hailey: I'm not accusing you of anything.
  I'm just stating facts.
  You do this.

Jeremy: More than two horns.
  And I'm not admitting I do it,
  but what if I do?
  What's wrong with adding missing information?

Hailey: It's usually not missing stuff.
  It's stuff they don't want.
  If they wanted it they would have asked,
  and they usually know it anyway.

Jeremy: Acknowledge it when you're speaking for yourself.
  And maybe you only think you know it.

Spring Moon: I'm sorry, but I'm lost.
  What are we talking about now?

Hailey: What people usually want is not more information.
  A simple yes or no would suffice.

Jeremy: More like a simple yes,
  and an apology for disagreeing with you,
  or for not meeting your expectations,
  or for disappointing you.

Hailey: An apology would be nice sometimes.

Jeremy: Even when it could only be said in irony?
  The original meaning of the word, by the way,
  is "explanation".

Hailey: See, you're doing it again.
  And apologetic is not apology.

Jeremy: The etymology offers clues.
  And "I'm sorry! I'll never do it again,"
  is usually a pretty poor excuse for an apology.

Hailey: Now you're just being clever.

Spring Moon: I think I see something here,
  and it might relate to what my mom was saying.

Jeremy: Ack. Pun not intentional.
  Uhm, this time. Heh.
  Pretty clever, if it had been.

Hailey: Sick.
  You really need to see a therapist.

Spring Moon: Uhm, can I call a time-out?

Hailey: No.

Jeremy: Yes. This isn't getting us anywhere.

Silence for a few moments.

Jeremy: Can I try again?

Hailey: Maybe.

Jeremy: "I'll never do it again."
  should be a promise reserved for things that were truly wrong.
  Don't you think?

Hailey: Sometimes you say some pretty offensive things.

Jeremy: You say things that offend me, too.
  If we forever tiptoe around each other, how can we communicate?
  How do we even figure out what we are saying and doing
  to offend each other?

Hailey: I can't believe you don't know.

Jeremy: If I did, I could really promise not to do it again.
  I don't. That's the problem.
  We're from different backgrounds.
  We can't know everything that's offensive to each other
  before it is even said.

Hailey: Sometimes it just hurts too much.
  Besides, all these teachers you work with get offended too.
  It's not just me.

Jeremy: Not all of them.

Spring Moon: Some of the teachers have no problems with Jeremy.
  Some really like his work.

Hailey: That's hard to hear from my rival.

Spring Moon: I am not your rival.

Jeremy: She is not your rival.
  If anyone is your rival, it would be Spring Moon's mother.

Spring Moon: Jeremy! I didn't know you were into older women!
  Just kidding.

Jeremy: I mean, if there's someone here working against Hailey.

Hailey: That's an awkward metaphor.
  I'll admit it's eloquent, but it's also awkward.

Jeremy: Point taken.

Spring Moon: Such an expression can be called a metaphor?

Hailey: Yeah. Metaphor.
  Sorry, Spring Moon.
  But I can't help see you as my rival.
  You're over there with him, and I'm not.
  And you're beautiful, too.

Spring Moon: And you're beautiful, too.
  Jeremy is definitely not just being kind when he tells you that.

Hailey: Oh!
  Ouch.
  Thanks, even though it hurts a bit to hear you say it.

Spring Moon: I understand, but I hope you believe me.
  Jeremy is true to you,
  and it would hurt him if I tried to take him away from you.

Jeremy: Your mother, Spring Moon, ...

Spring Moon: Yes?

Jeremy: treats me the same way as some of the teachers.

Spring Moon: How is that?

Jeremy: Like a little kid.
  No, that's not quite what I mean.
  Blank slate.
  Like they think I'm their empty book
  that they get to write whatever they want in.

Hailey: Wouldn't that be the junior-senior relationship thing?

Spring Moon: Well, these are experienced teachers.
  You're job is basically a paid teaching assistant position.
  So, sure, they see it as their duty
  to teach you how to teach in the Kingdom of Peace.

Hailey: Uh oh. I can see how this plays out.

Spring Moon: Oh?

Hailey: Jeremy has a bit of philosophy and a lot of pride.

Jeremy: I'm an experienced teacher, too.
  I thought the teachers all knew that.

Spring Moon: But your position is an entry-level position.
  And your experience is in the UIS, not in the Kingdom of Peace.
  And some of them disagree strongly with your philosophies.

Hailey: And it may be your book,
  but those are their pages.
  Aren't they?

Jeremy: I'm trying to work with each one of them
  according to the way they teach.
  But they assume I'm something I'm not.
  They leave out information I need
  and get focused on telling me things I already know.

Several moments of silence.

Jeremy: I understand the rote techniques most of them rely on too much. 
  I myself use them when necessary.
  And they are the lead teachers.
  The classrooms are their responsibility.
  I try to follow their lead when I can see how.
  But I need more information to understand what they are doing.

Hailey: Is there some reason you aren't getting the information?

Spring Moon: How could they give you the information?

Jeremy: Planning the lessons together would help.

Hailey: I have the same problem, I guess.
  But I can usually discuss enough in the few minutes
  before and after class.

Jeremy: How about the male teachers you work with?

Hailey: I don't have any.
  Is there that much difference?

Spring Moon: There sure would be here.

Jeremy: Besides, I'm focused on the students before and after class.

Spring Moon: How much time?

Jeremy: Ideally, an hour total.

Jeremy thinks for a moment.

Jeremy: But I guess I'd take even five or ten minutes
  to talk about the next topic,
  and five or ten minutes
  to discuss the plan before we go into class.
  Too often I don't even get that.

Hailey: That's not unreasonable.
  Do you have your full portfolio with you?
  Have you shown them all your tools?

Jeremy: They don't give me time,
  don't allow my computer in most of the schools.
  I have to guess and print sample worksheets ahead of time.
  And pay for the ink and paper myself.

Spring Moon: I should have invited my mother to this chat.

Hailey: But I'd have to pretend not to be here.

Spring Moon: I'll see if I can pass that much on.
  And not mention Hailey.

Jeremy: Sorry. Let's not do that.
  I've been talking with the headmasters at the schools,
  and they're trying to help.
  So I think I should just ask for real planning time.
  Thanks, Spring Moon.

Spring Moon: Sure.

Jeremy: You, too, Hailey.

Hailey: You bet.
  Hope you can work it out.