Written on May 12, 2015
Seattle tossed her key into the bowl next to the door, shrugging off her dripping coat and hanging it to dry. She was tiredly shuffling toward her bedroom when Phillis spoke up from the couch, where she had apparently been reading a book (A Brief History of 19th Century Seattle). "Hey." She closed the book and tossed it in the general direction of the bookshelf. Seattle stopped at the door to her bedroom, turning toward Phillis.
"Hey."
"C'm'ere, dude, sit with me," Phillis urged softly. Seattle hesitated briefly, then dropped her bag on the floor and strode to the couch, plopping down and curling her legs up across from where Phillis sat, feet taking up two cushions.
"What's up, my man?"
Phillis looked down, then pulled the photo of the fire from the pocket of her suede jacket, handing it to Seattle. "Sophia, I really need you to explain this. You never tell me anything about your family history, about your history, about you. And then I find this, in which the resemblance is… uncanny. And I just… I don't know what to think. Is it a relative? I don't… I just want to get to know you, I guess. And it doesn't help that my research led me to Arthur Denny's diary, in which he claims to have lost his favorite wooden spoon. Which he carved himself. I'm sorry if I'm prying. I probably shouldn't've… I'm sorry." Phillis seemed to have changed her mind. She shook her head and got up from the sofa. Seattle was staring intently at the photo, pained expression on her face. She stopped Phillis when she tried to return to her own bedroom.
"No, I'll… I'll explain. It's okay. Sit down." Phillis nodded serenely and returned to her seat, waiting patiently for Seattle to begin. Seattle looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before looking directly at Phillis and speaking, slowly. "Every city, town and village in the world has a… a guardian. A patron spirit. They look human, but they're not. They're kind of… the soul of the city, I guess. These spirits have certain powers, knowledge- anything having to do with the city and its history. A spirit comes about when a city is given a name, and they can live for as long as the city does. There aren't many ways for them to die, and… and they don't age." Phillis had a disbelieving look on her face as Seattle held up the picture, nervously pointing to the distressed woman kneeling in the foreground. "This is me. I'm Seattle." She averted her eyes from Phillis, awaiting her reaction.
After a too-long silence, Phillis responded. "Can you prove it?" She had no anger in her voice. No disbelief. Just curiosity. Seattle met her eyes.
"Yes. Yes! Of course I can prove it." She was eager for Phillis' approval. "You can't tell anyone, though. Obviously."
"Obviously." Seattle nodded at Phillis' promise and tentatively pulled her pocket knife from her pocket. Phillis tensed when Seattle flipped it open and brought the blade to her palm, slicing open her hand. She made sure Phillis could see that it was very plainly injured and bleeding before healing herself; a deep green- almost emerald- fluid, flowy substance patched together Seattle's hand before disappearing, leaving the blood to congeal on her yellowy skin. Phillis' eyes widened. "That's incredible!" She leaned in closer, taking Seattle's hand in hers and analyzing what's now just a thin scar, if stained with a bit of dried blood. She looked up into Seattle's eyes, nodding. "I believe you." She still had Seattle's hand in hers.
Seattle nodded back to her and smiled. She had a hard time focusing with Phillis' warm hand supporting hers. "Thank you."
Phillis was silent for a moment, a pensive look on her face. "So that spoon you have in your room… is that actually Arthur Denny's spoon? The one he mentioned in his journal?"
Seattle chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, I stole his spoon. I was only a few days old and really needed some silverware, okay?" Her voice was pleading but there was a soft, genuine smile on her face.
“That's incredible. I never really pegged you for a thief. A drug dealer, maybe, given all the cash you seem to rake in, but not a thief."
"Pshhh. Please. It's been 150 years. I don't think you can prosecute someone after that long, especially if it happened before the state it happened in was even incorporated as a state."
"Wow…. I hadn't thought about that. So.. You lived through a lot of stuff, then, I suppose."
"Yeah, I did. Lots of wars, movements, watched celebrities and the like come and go. I got to live through the invention of computers, the internet… Never did get to meet Alan Turing, though. I'd have liked that."
Phillis couldn't do much but sit there in awe, still invading Seattle's personal space and clutching her bloodied hand like a secure anchor amid this sea of new information. She subconsciously was leaning closer and closer to Seattle's face as their breaths intermingled.
Seattle got the hint and whispered, "Did you know Alan Turing was gay?" as she, too, approached Phillis' face with her own. She couldn't help but glance down at those damn beautiful lips of hers.
She got a whisper in return. "Yes. Did you know that I'm gay?"
Seattle was intending to reply but was kept from doing so when their lips finally met. It was perfect for a first kiss; soft, gentle, and brief. When they separated, they were still mere inches apart as Seattle thought up a witty response. "I do now." She earned a chuckle from her partner at that. Phillis gave Seattle a pat on the arm as she raised her voice to normal speaking level and retreated to average conversation distance.
"So, Soph- Seattle. How about a dinner date?"
“Sounds perfect."
"Hey."
"C'm'ere, dude, sit with me," Phillis urged softly. Seattle hesitated briefly, then dropped her bag on the floor and strode to the couch, plopping down and curling her legs up across from where Phillis sat, feet taking up two cushions.
"What's up, my man?"
Phillis looked down, then pulled the photo of the fire from the pocket of her suede jacket, handing it to Seattle. "Sophia, I really need you to explain this. You never tell me anything about your family history, about your history, about you. And then I find this, in which the resemblance is… uncanny. And I just… I don't know what to think. Is it a relative? I don't… I just want to get to know you, I guess. And it doesn't help that my research led me to Arthur Denny's diary, in which he claims to have lost his favorite wooden spoon. Which he carved himself. I'm sorry if I'm prying. I probably shouldn't've… I'm sorry." Phillis seemed to have changed her mind. She shook her head and got up from the sofa. Seattle was staring intently at the photo, pained expression on her face. She stopped Phillis when she tried to return to her own bedroom.
"No, I'll… I'll explain. It's okay. Sit down." Phillis nodded serenely and returned to her seat, waiting patiently for Seattle to begin. Seattle looked away for a moment, gathering her thoughts, before looking directly at Phillis and speaking, slowly. "Every city, town and village in the world has a… a guardian. A patron spirit. They look human, but they're not. They're kind of… the soul of the city, I guess. These spirits have certain powers, knowledge- anything having to do with the city and its history. A spirit comes about when a city is given a name, and they can live for as long as the city does. There aren't many ways for them to die, and… and they don't age." Phillis had a disbelieving look on her face as Seattle held up the picture, nervously pointing to the distressed woman kneeling in the foreground. "This is me. I'm Seattle." She averted her eyes from Phillis, awaiting her reaction.
After a too-long silence, Phillis responded. "Can you prove it?" She had no anger in her voice. No disbelief. Just curiosity. Seattle met her eyes.
"Yes. Yes! Of course I can prove it." She was eager for Phillis' approval. "You can't tell anyone, though. Obviously."
"Obviously." Seattle nodded at Phillis' promise and tentatively pulled her pocket knife from her pocket. Phillis tensed when Seattle flipped it open and brought the blade to her palm, slicing open her hand. She made sure Phillis could see that it was very plainly injured and bleeding before healing herself; a deep green- almost emerald- fluid, flowy substance patched together Seattle's hand before disappearing, leaving the blood to congeal on her yellowy skin. Phillis' eyes widened. "That's incredible!" She leaned in closer, taking Seattle's hand in hers and analyzing what's now just a thin scar, if stained with a bit of dried blood. She looked up into Seattle's eyes, nodding. "I believe you." She still had Seattle's hand in hers.
Seattle nodded back to her and smiled. She had a hard time focusing with Phillis' warm hand supporting hers. "Thank you."
Phillis was silent for a moment, a pensive look on her face. "So that spoon you have in your room… is that actually Arthur Denny's spoon? The one he mentioned in his journal?"
Seattle chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, I stole his spoon. I was only a few days old and really needed some silverware, okay?" Her voice was pleading but there was a soft, genuine smile on her face.
“That's incredible. I never really pegged you for a thief. A drug dealer, maybe, given all the cash you seem to rake in, but not a thief."
"Pshhh. Please. It's been 150 years. I don't think you can prosecute someone after that long, especially if it happened before the state it happened in was even incorporated as a state."
"Wow…. I hadn't thought about that. So.. You lived through a lot of stuff, then, I suppose."
"Yeah, I did. Lots of wars, movements, watched celebrities and the like come and go. I got to live through the invention of computers, the internet… Never did get to meet Alan Turing, though. I'd have liked that."
Phillis couldn't do much but sit there in awe, still invading Seattle's personal space and clutching her bloodied hand like a secure anchor amid this sea of new information. She subconsciously was leaning closer and closer to Seattle's face as their breaths intermingled.
Seattle got the hint and whispered, "Did you know Alan Turing was gay?" as she, too, approached Phillis' face with her own. She couldn't help but glance down at those damn beautiful lips of hers.
She got a whisper in return. "Yes. Did you know that I'm gay?"
Seattle was intending to reply but was kept from doing so when their lips finally met. It was perfect for a first kiss; soft, gentle, and brief. When they separated, they were still mere inches apart as Seattle thought up a witty response. "I do now." She earned a chuckle from her partner at that. Phillis gave Seattle a pat on the arm as she raised her voice to normal speaking level and retreated to average conversation distance.
"So, Soph- Seattle. How about a dinner date?"
“Sounds perfect."