MY NEW LIFE
For a warrior woman trained in multiple art forms of hand-to-hand combat, I had expected she would far outlast me when it came to stamina. But my victory was solidified as Maeve bent to perch on her knees while she sucked in a few gasps of air after we finished running up the steep quarter-mile trail which led to our alone spot for the evening. She was tired, but smiling when she pulled a bottle of water from our picnic basket I carried.
We had raced up an old woodland path that would have once sent me into a coronary about five steps in. This afternoon I owned it with ease –and with picnic supplies in tow as well. It was one of the advantages of being part machine. While much of me still remained human, there were aspects of my biology, even on the cellular level, that operated with a mechanical precision and durability that would make the most celebrated of athletes jealous.
One day while out on a run far down the beach from our little clubhouse, I spotted a sweet little overlook that gave an awesome vantage point for an upcoming firework festival that was to be displayed off one of the connecting islands that linked with ours. We were somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico not far from mainland USA. Our house on the water was too far down on the “quiet side” to enjoy the fireworks, plus I really wanted to go somewhere alone with Maeve. I didn’t want to have to worry about Largo, Kata, and Sway popping in during our alone time. So, when I saw this grassy ledge nestled into the side of the rock face, I knew that was going to be our spot.
I had already scouted the site, and found the old trail that led to the top easily enough. Unfortunately, it seemed like it hadn’t been used for quite some time, so we got a little dirty on the way up trudging through low branches, jumping fallen tree trunks, and scampering over large rocks. It might have been easier for her to have just flown us up with her Spiritan Armor. Next time we’re doing that.
I wasn’t complaining, and not because I made the trip up with little effort. Nor because I was about to chow down on an epic amount of home-grilled cheeseburgers while I enjoyed an awesome firework show, but because I knew we would have that little tucked away ledge of grass all to ourselves.
Every day it had been the same cat-and-mouse routine. For breakfast we’d try to steal away to the beach or hide in one of the common areas, but her gothic Elvish powers (beside her brain and propensity for partying) must have had been forged from some Hellish soul-sniffing bloodhound. Sway always found us, and without hesitation, she would launch into a flurry of harassments about my hair, clothing-choice, or complete inability to use the Dragonstones Largo gave me. It’s always fun to be berated in front of the girl you have a crush on. She insisted that I had a responsibility to not be so inept if I were going to continue to remain in the company of those as socially adored and envied as Kata and herself. She called the instructions “Fitting-In Class.” But by the sheer bad timing of it all, I called it “Cockblocking.”
The hours surrounding lunch, consisted of various classes and training with Largo helping me adapt to the new Amalgam societal dynamics I’d be facing. Certain underworld cultures had very specific “outsider requirements.” These oh-so-riveting talks about proper fork usage, correct knee posturing, and lip placements for Purie-ass-kissing always burned most of the good daylight. I had almost no spare time before dinner, where our maid, Mary the Mistress of Doom, served whatever new concoction she could invent with her personally-engineered and homegrown Diablo Peppers .
Our post-dinner ritual saw the girls off to some club while I hung out with a video game for continued recovery and “me” time. Maeve often tried to hang back, but the three of them were becoming something of
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