As days passed, we started to develop our routine, inasmuch as eight or nine people (there's one guy drifting around named Garrison and I'm not entirely sure where he fits in) can have a routine. Naturally, John, Mary and I stick by one another, which I don't think is all that eyebrow-raising for the others, especially with Dustin and Dakota being an item. They were close enough to go on vacation together, and beyond "Wow, didn't you get enough of each other already" between the "girls," there's clearly a dynamic there that people are free to interpret. What are they doing having sleepovers in the basement every night? That's nobody's business - it's 2025, after all, right?
I found out early on that Dustin is an early riser. All my previous bodies had the sort of sleep cycles you would expect -- as Ryan I sometimes stayed out late but would end up sleeping in equally late. But Dustin seems to have an ability to wake up at 5:00 AM no matter how late he was up the night before, and still be brimming with energy. It's been borderline supernatural (well, I guess it's literally supernatural.)
At first I resisted this -- I really do like sleep -- but when it became obvious I wasn't going to get any more sleep and my body was ready to start the day, I decided to do something, so I went for a walk, which seemed the most sensible way to burn off energy without disturbing the rest of the house. Then as I was walking I thought why don't I see what it would be like to run? So I started to run, and I ran and I ran and I ran, and my legs just kept carrying me, without even thinking about how soon should I turn around in case I get out of breath. I ran as far as the local athletic center, really only a few blocks away, which I reached without tiring. I returned home and saw that, sure enough, I had a membership card.
So the next day, I decided to go in. It's not hard to imagine this being Dustin's routine, running to the gym, spending twenty minutes on the rowing machine or the elliptical, lifting some weights, and then running back. Only then did I feel somewhat spent. This body is something else.
After a few days of that, I returned to the house today to see Mary sitting on the porch. She was waiting for me with a mug of coffee for each of us.
"A tablespoon of milk, a bt of sugar," she said.
"Wow," I nodded, "That's just how I take it." I sipped and told her it was right on.
She smiled. "I like to notice things about people who are important to me."
That made me blush a little bit. "Oh, am I...?" I stammered.
"Of course," she sipped her own coffee, "You and John and I share this secret. You've been... a stabilizing influence. And you're a nice person. Even when we disagree on things."
"I do what I can," I muttered, trying to downplay whatever goodness she sees in me. "Are you always up this early?' It was not yet 7 AM.
"I like to be," she said, "I'm trying to get on a better sleep schedule, but it's tough. This body is resisting my efforts. Have you noticed these garden plots here? They've got a lot of potential, but nobody's tending them. I thought that could be my project."
"I'm no green thumb, but isn't it a bit late in the season?"
She sipped and shrugged. Maybe she knew better than I did, or maybe she had other reasons for wanting to be up early and the garden was just an excuse.
"How's John?" I asked. Of course I had seen plenty of him that week, but we hadn't had a lot of private time lately -- nor would I have wanted to.
"John's... John," she said, then laughed musically because of course, John isn't John, to the world. John is the John that he is when he's Dakota, and do we really know what that means yet? In fact, given all that John hides from Mary, do we really know who John is?
"Things are all right between you two?" I asked, hopefully, but trying not to pry.
She looked down into her cup and smirked bashfully. "Next question, please."
"Okay, so tell me about Mary," I said. It occurred to me that I know strangely little about the woman in her own words.
"I'm going to be 48 on September 1," she said, "Where does the time go? Married for 18 years. Together for 24." She got a faraway look as she seemed to contemplate how that was half her life.
"Kids?" I asked. "I don't mean to pry." John had once said something about a daughter, but the topic hadn't come up with Mary.
"John does, from his previous marriage. They don't speak." Mary didn't let on how she felt about that. She abruptly changed the subject. "I would love to ask Cassandra what possessed her to get all these tattoos. Look at this."
She held out her left forearm and there written in script -- amidst colorful butterflies and birds and flowers that comprised that sleeve -- were the words "BE YOU TO A T."
"Isn't that funny?" she snickered. "I keep staring at it, since it's been etched in my arm without my permission. What a thing to see when you are being someone else."
"To thine own self be true," I said, "I think that's Shakespeare."
"Polonius from Hamlet," she nodded. "Of course, he was a windbag. Among the Bard's best jokes."
"I didn't know you were an expert," I said.
"I was studying literature when I met John," she said, and got that faraway look again. "A lifetime ago."
"Multiple, some would say."
"I haven't lived a lifetime as Cassie... yet," she snickered.
We both sipped, letting that remark hang in the air. Soon after that I heard a rustle at the door and Ifena joined us and we had to get into character.
-Marc/Dustin
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