treatment, even of those available at the time. I think of the descriptions in the books; I imagine Jeremy being stuck where I was as a young child.
“I hope the new treatment works,” I say. “I hope it works for him, too.”
Mr. Aldrin makes a sound I do not understand; his voice is hoarse when he speaks again. “Thank you, Lou,” he says. “You’re—you’re a good man.”
I am not a good man. I am just a man, like he is, but I like it that he thinks I am good.
TOM AND LUCIA AND MARJORY ARE ALL IN THE LIVING ROOM when I arrive. They are talking about the next tournament. Tom looks up at me.
“Lou—have you decided?”
“Yes,” I say. “I will do it.”
“Good. You’ll need to fill out this entry form—”
“Not that,” I say. I realize that he would not know I meant something else. “I will not fight in this tournament—” Will I ever fight in another tournament? Will the future me want to fence? Can you fence in space? I think it would be very hard in free fall.
“But you said,” Lucia says; then her face changes, seems to flatten out with surprise. “Oh—you mean…
you’re going through with the treatment?”
“Yes,” I say. I glance at Marjory. She is looking at Lucia, and then at me, and then back. I do not remember if I talked to Marjory about the treatment.
“When?” asks Lucia before I have time to think about how to explain to Marjory.
“It will start Monday,” I say. “I have a lot to do. I have to move into the clinic.”
“Are you sick?” Marjory says; her face is pale now. “Is something wrong?”
“I am not sick,” I say to Marjory. “There is an experimental treatment that may make me normal.”
“Normal!But, Lou, you’re fine the way you are. I like the way you are. You don’t have to be like everybody else. Who has been telling you that?” She sounds angry. I do not know if she is angry with me or with someone she thinks told me I needed to change. I do not know if I should tell her the whole story or part of it. I will tell her everything.
“It started because Mr. Crenshaw at work wanted to eliminate our unit,” I say. “He knew about this treatment. He said it will save money.”
“But that’s—that’s coercion. It’s wrong. It’s against the law. He can’t do that—”
She is really angry now, the color coming and going on her cheeks. It makes me want to grab her and hug her. That is not appropriate.
“That is how it started,” I say. “But you are right; he could not do what he said he would do. Mr. Aldrin
, our supervisor, found a way to stop him.” I am still surprised by this. I was sure Mr. Aldrin had changed his mind and would not help us. I still do not understand what Mr. Aldrin did that stopped Mr. Crenshaw and caused him to lose his job and be escorted out by security guards with his things in a box. I tell them what Mr. Aldrin said and then what the lawyers said in the meeting. “But now I want to change,” I say, at the end.
She takes a deep breath. I like to watch her take deep breaths; the front of her clothes pulls tight.
“Why?” she asks in a quieter voice. “It isn’t because of… because of… us, is it? Me?”
“No,” I say. “It is not about you. It is about me.”
Her shoulders sag. I do not know if it is relief or sadness. “Then was it Don? Did he make you do this, convince you that you weren’t all right as you were?”
“It was not Don… not only Don…” It is obvious, I think, and I do not know why she cannot see it. She was there when the security man at the airport stopped me and my words stuck and she had to help me.
She was there when I needed to talk to the police officer and my words stuck and Tom had to help me. I do not like being the one who always needs help. “It is about me,” I say again. “I want not to have problems at the airport and sometimes with other people when it is hard to talk and have people looking at me. I want to go places and learn things I did not know I could learn…”
Her faces changes again, smoothing out, and her voice loses some of its