Balefire by Barrett Page B

Damn it, how could I have been so stupid? And it wasn’t the first time. It probably wouldn’t be the last. She’d had moments of disconnectedness all her life. In grammar school, her friends told her she was ditzy. In college, it was daydreaming. But now, with her vision so limited, she needed to be careful. She just didn’t know how. Thank God, Kirin had been there.
    The door opened, and she looked up. “Let me guess. Diane collared you about my carelessness.”
    Kirin laughed and choked. “Were you eavesdropping?” She sat on the foot of the bed.
    “I know my friend. She’s like a mother hen. I knew as soon as she found out about the run-in, there’d be hell to pay.” Silke draped her arm across her forehead.
    “She’s just worried about you. You’re lucky to have a good friend like her. You probably ought to listen to her, missy.”
    “I know, I do, and I appreciate your help as well. You’ve gone above and beyond the duties required of a temporary houseguest.” She pushed up straighter in the bed and sighed dramatically. “So I’m sure what you need is one more dose of Too Much Information. And if you don’t just say so.”
    Kirin chuckled at the description then leaned back against the bamboo post at the foot of the bed. “No, please. I’d like to know.”
    “Here’s a short version. I’ve been a little spacey all my life. I don’t know why, genetics I suppose. It’s never been a huge problem, but people have always remarked about it. Since I lost my peripheral vision, the con sequences for my inattentiveness are more dangerous. When I’m at home, in Milwaukee, I have a rigid routine in my studio and at the college. Other than an occasional bruised elbow or knee, I’ve been okay. If you hadn’t been here, I never would’ve gone into San Pedro by myself.”
    Kirin nodded. “Okay. You seem to have a good handle on it. Can I offer a suggestion? While you’re down here, let Diane worry about you and take care of you. She loves you, and it would make her feel better.”
    Silke laughed and nodded. “You’re absolutely right, and I will do as you suggest. Now, do you think you could show me your new photos and tell me a story?”
    “Okay. Let me grab my laptop. But first, you mentioned the college ?”
    Silke moved the ice bag. “I teach part time at UW Milwaukee, which is only a few blocks from the house. Depending on what projects I have going on in my studio, I sometimes offer private classes.”
    “And you do all that by yourself. Don’t you worry?”
    “Worry about what?”
    “I don’t know. Traffic, navigating around the university, that’s a pretty big campus. And I’m guessing you don’t drive.” Kirin smiled.
    “Very funny,” Silke said. “I actually thought I could at one point. It wasn’t a good idea. I couldn’t even get out of the garage. It’s only a part-time job, and I walk. My studio is across the alley from our house. So it’s easy.”
    Kirin stood. “I’ll get my laptop if you’re sure you want to do this. You want something to drink?”
    “Yes, I’m sure, and some water would be great.” Silke slumped back and picked up the bottle of ibuprofen.
    She was proud of a lifetime of self-reliance but the past year—demor alizing. As difficult as it was to need her closest friend’s help, she’d also reached out to a stranger. That’s a big step in letting people help me. Asking Kirin or Diane was nothing compared to asking Rachel for any thing. She shuddered. One more week safely away from home. She needed to make some difficult decisions. Kirin didn’t need to know this part.
    “Here you go.” Kirin set the water bottle on the bedside table. “What’s the best way for you to see the screen?”
    Silke grabbed two of the bed pillows and put them on her lap. “I think this is high enough.” She pulled her reading glasses from the bedside table. Kirin positioned a laptop and Silke patted the bed next to her. “Why don’t you come up here so you