The Gemini: Emancipation

4 - The X's Face

April 1994

"Are you really as angry as you look."

"Yes."

Eyes hidden behind pitch dark lenses, Roger kept his head down as he played around on his bass. The young woman sitting adjacent to him said nothing in return, indicating that she took his answer seriously.

After a good minute she spoke again. "All the time?"

He said nothing. Raising his head in her direction, he saw genuine curiosity painted on her doll-like face. A pretty face. Back down his head went.

"Are you kidding?" Her voice lifted halfway through the asking as she softly laughed into her next one. "You're joking, aren't you?"

A giggle effervescent in nature, just like she, bounced between them.

It tickled his ears like it always does. If she were anything other than human, Roger's certain that she'd be a giggle. One of those sweet ones where the doer covers their mouth and their eyes get that corner crinkle.

Cute.

Upon observation he noticed how her shoulders jumped a little whenever she laughed. Her smile went wide and sometimes shed lean back or bite her tongue, like whatever caused the joyous reaction was the funniest thing on earth.

Infectious.

So infectious that Roger hadn't realized that he'd began looking at her again. When did he lift his head? How long has he been watching?

She isn't paying him any attention though. Her sights are elsewhere as her fingers played at the dainty charm bracelet around her wrist.

She's always jingling, especially when she danced. At first the clinking annoyed him. Then he listened to their rhythm and found that it somehow always fit perfectly in whatever melody he was playing. He'd swear it was some kind of magic.

"I can never really tell when you're joking. It's funny."

"Am I?"

Her golden eyes on him, the prominent arch in her brows perking even more. "What? Are you funny?" At Roger's nod, she answered with a nod of her own. "Yeah. I think so."

For the second time he put his focus down at his strings. His negation was spoken so plainly that it came across as humorous.

"I'm not funny, I'm serious."

Another giggle.

Roger gauged months ago that this girl had mastered the art of sincere ego stroking, if that be such a thing. With one of those showgirl smiles she could make the worse moment sparkle. Make a down man feel like he struck oil.

Just like his wife could.

This girl is a gem.

"I think you want people to think that so you can be yourself. If they think you're mean, no one will mess with you. They'll leave you alone."

"You thought I was and sat down anyway. What's that about?"

Palms planted flat on the stage they sat on, she rest back on them. "I had a feeling. I've seen you laugh. Mean people don't really laugh."

He took a breath that was faintly audible and exhaled it quietly. "Hm. Guess I gotta stop then."

He watched her smile a toned down version of that showgirl thing. It seemed as though she were trained to show some variation of it at all times. Like she was born with it or something.

"Can you play?"

She pointed to his guitar, "That?"

Roger hiked his brows, giving a slow single nod.