(Chapter One of this evolving tale can be found here.)
Chapter Two: The Abyss Gazes Also
"Lambert fought to return the woman's cool stare, as unsure of her intentions as he was captivated by her beauty. Sure, he'd seen her type many times before in his line of work - tall, blonde and blue-eyed with a body that made her clothes seem like they'd been drawn on with scented markers - and yet there was still something about her that made him notice the thumping of his forty year old heart.
"Am I under arrest, Detective?" she asked, in a tone suggesting that she knew more about the law than he did. "I'd like to call my lawyer, if I am."
Pausing before answering, Lambert shifted uncomfortably in his chair, suddenly aware of just how small the table was that separated the two of them. "No, Mrs Mason, you're not," he said without making eye contact. "It's just routine. We always interview the spouse when someone dies in a violent fashion." As he spoke the last few words, he forced himself to look directly into her almost-blindingly perfect features.
"So I'm not a suspect in Gerald's murder, then?" she inquired, with a raised eyebrow that Lambert struggled to interpret between hopefulness and surprise.
"Well, ma'am, I didn't exactly say that," Lambert replied. He placed both hands, palms down, on the table between them, a gesture intended as much to hide the sweat starting to form on them as it was to prevent them from shaking. Stop acting like a love-sick teenager, he told himself. You've got a murder to solve!"
- "The Abyss Gazes Also", Coming Of Age Tale, James Hancock (Born 1990), Published 2006
"Betraying his father?" echoed Linus, moving to squat beside his prone Indian friend. "What'd he do?"
Before Sanjay could respond, James rasped, "Did he have sex with his mother? I mean, his own mother, not his father's mother. That'd be his grandmother... eww, gross!"
"Because, of course," Peter said, "having sex with your own mother isn't gross!"
"You know what I mean!" James countered. "Hey, if that's where your story's going, I've got the perfect title for it: Oedipus Wrecks! With a W, like he wrecks his family!"
"It's like you've already read my book, James. Totally uncanny!"
"Ah, sarcasm, my faithful companion" crooned James, "never far from me are thee!"
"So you were about to say...?" ventured Peter, speaking to Sanjay while looking disapprovingly at James.
"Well," began the young man, as he sat up and pulled his knees up tight to his lithe body, "my central character's father has some very specific plans for him, but then he realized that he couldn't go through with them. He's conflicted, though, because there's a lot of family tradition at stake, and he's jeopardized some important relationships in the process."
"So... this is starting to sound like an autobiography, my friend," said Linus. "Is that what you're writing?"
Sanjay looked down quickly, unable to hide his discomfort. "No. Not exactly. I mean, there are certain similarities, yes. But the situations are quite different, and my hero is a few years older than me." Then he looked up, and with more energy said, "And after all, the teachers all tell us to write what we know! This is what I know!"
"Sounds reasonable to me," Peter said. "So what's the corner that you've painted him into, and what kind of vindication is he supposed to find?"
"Well, he disobeyed his father's orders, because he believed his father was wrong. But now he's in trouble with the law, even though it turns out his father was wrong!"
"Kind of like Icarus, then?" Linus asked.
"How so?" Sanjay countered.
"His father told him not to fly too close to the sun, or he'd burn his wings. Now that's crazy, because the higher you fly, the colder it gets, and so the old man was wrong as wrong could be. And yet legend has it that ol' Icarus still fell, so what're we to make of that story now?"
"Don't mess with Daddy?" James offered, at which point Peter slugged him in the arm.
Linus said, "Or maybe that disobedience is a greater sin than being wrong?"
"That's pretty screwed up, if you ask me," James replied, over the low grumble of his stomach. "But not as screwed up as I'll be if I don't get some food in me soon. See you ladies tomorrow!"
Three days later, the four boys were together again, but this time back inside the walls of their school and accompanied by classmate Elizabeth Lee and their teacher, Laurel Allen. All six of them sat in a loose circle, facing inward, enveloped in bubble chairs that combined comfort and support as if designed by an expert on both.
The group was engaged in the part of each school day dedicated to discussing Coming Of Age Tales, and Laurel was the COAT counsellor to the five students gathered around her. She'd been working with all of them, in this manner, since the current school year had started. While none of them were required to tell her anything about their own COAT progress, it was inevitable that she learned some of what each of them was up to, just by the nature of the discussions they had. Because of that, she'd gotten the distinct - and unwelcome - impression that Linus had yet to start his. Based on where the conversation was going at the moment, though, she suspected that she was about to get a serious clue as to why.
Elizabeth was saying, "It's a lot more complicated than you're making it sound. You have to consider how it started, the changes that it caused after only a few years, and the fact that it only took a couple of decades to spread worldwide. That certainly puts it on the same footing as some of the other revolutionary movements of the past few centuries, wouldn't you say?"
"I'm saying that I don't really see what one has to do with the other, is all," Linus said.
"What part of your education were you paying attention to, Linus?" asked Elizabeth, drawing a frosty look from her teacher.
"Liz, that's not a very helpful attitude," Laurel said, in her best neutral voice. You may be my star pupil, Liz, she thought, but I'm certainly not going to treat you like one! "Why don't you drop the sarcasm so that we can have a conversation like adults?"
"But that's what I'm talking about: adulthood," Linus continued, as if the conversation were going exactly where he wanted it to. "Does anyone in the 21st century really believe that the best way to judge if someone's ready to take on the rights of a full citizen is by making them write a story to prove it?"
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