Programmed Not To Live

Two: Changed Around

It wasn't my companion's habit to listen to my questions, much less answer them. He continued driving, hands pressing the steering wheel with a kind of practice I didn't have when I did anything.

"Are you going to answer any of my questions?" I said with a smile. I was getting my sense of humor back, and I wasn't about to sit quietly when a strange guy gave me his jacket, and was driving me somewhere I was unaware of.

"So, come on, tell me something about you I don't know."

He still ignored me, but I was enjoying myself a little too much. I guess it was because I was so glad to be out of the hospital, having an adventure.

"I know eight things about you," I said proudly, counting them off on my fingers so he could see. "1: You're short. 2: You have blue eyes. 3: You have at least ten tattoos. 4: You have a silent way of doing things. 5: You're rather polite. 6: You saved my life. 7: You drive a car like a sci-fi movie character. And 8: You don't answer my questions, you just tell me things. You also command me."

I thought I saw his blue eyes narrow. They seemed like they were sparkling as he said in a throaty voice, "Then take this command of mine, and be quiet."

I pulled the jacket tighter around me, and stared musingly out the windshield for lack of something else to do. The guy reached over and put on the heat, which I was grateful for. My legs were like ice after walking out of the heated hospital into the chilly winter air.

"Thanks," I said, because I could. He didn't seem to respond. His hands moved around the many buttons on the dash, and soon a slow jazz song played over the radio. My eyes lit up because I loved jazz music, especially the calming type.

"You have good music," I admired.

He still ignored my comments, turning the wheel so the car wound into a parking lot at the bottom of a tall building. "We're in the middle of the city, so you can't go walking around like that." He pulled the keys out of the ignition, and placed them in a pocket of his.

"Come on, I'll have to buy you some clothes."

"Really?" I just sat there and stared at him. 

This was the first time I ever saw him smile, but he did. Then I realized he was making fun of me. "I'm not driving you around in that," he countered, still smiling, as he pushed open his door. Without thinking about it, I reached for my car door, then I saw he was coming around.

"What a gentleman," I said to myself as he pulled open the door and let me come out. We were at a clothes store. It said Jezzie's Fashion over the door in gold letters. I was offered a hand to help me onto the sidewalk by my stalwart companion, and of course I accepted. My feet already hurt from walking on stone again, and the cold was getting to me. My shoulder ached.

I gave my savior a pained look as he masterfully held the door for me. We walked into the store together. I suddenly realized someone had noticed us. A woman in a purple dress came down the stairs from a higher landing, her face spread in a smile. I looked around at the expensive clothing and glanced at my companion. His glance was assured and distant, but he went to greet the woman.

"Hi," and that was all I heard. He leaned down attentively and spoke to her for a few seconds, then gestured for me to follow. I kept up with him, staying carefully at his side the whole time. I was a dish-rag, but somehow my savior had made the nature my appearance all clear to the owner of the store. I knew she was the owner because her fancy name-tag said Jezzie.

I gave her a wan smile when she held up a highly fancy gown to my front. My guy companion looked at it, then rejected it. It didn't seem like he was going to consult me in what I wanted to wear. I fitfully stood on one foot, then hopped to the other as they tried one outfit after another. Neither really spoke to me when deciding, but I knew they had to be talking to each other when they walked off to the racks of clothes. How else where they communicating?