Chapter 5

On I35 from Dallas to Denton, a good portion of the street lights have additional blue lights above the regular streetlight.

“The blue lights are new,” Tory said.

“Crime deterrents,” Jeremy said.

“What?”

“Glasgow, Scotland, and Yokohama, Japan, installed these lights in various places, and reported a drop in crime and suicide rates,” Jeremy said.

“How much crime is on the freeway?” Tory asked.

“Could be a delayed effect. Don’t know how to measure the exposure or the half-life of the radiation,” Jeremy said, looking up at one as it passed overhead

“Radiation?” Tory asked.

“Every object comprised of normal matter radiates energy,” Jeremy said. “Even our bodies are radiating light. We are beings of light in every true sense of the word.”

“I like that,” Tory said. “So not like Chernobyl meets Godzilla and Spiderman spiders?”

“Could be just decoration,” Jeremy said, staring up into them as they passed. It was mirrored and reflected in the window. “They don’t seem functional in terms of lighting. Red light would have improved visibility without eye dilation, would have been more grounding, and less light pollution. I miss the stars.”

Tory turned up the radio to hear a song. It crackled and went off. She thumped it. “Ahh. What a night. Ticket. Radio broke.” She frowned, and crossed her heart with a figure 8. “Forgive me, Isis. I am tired, not ungrateful.”

Jeremy smiled, looked away.

“What? You don’t have a higher power?” Tory asked.

“I, too, practice being grateful,” Jeremy said. “And I am huge fan of Almighty Isis. Interestingly, she’s the only one Marvel hasn’t brought in, yet.

“Probably because of the terrorist usurping her name,” Tory said.

“It’s why they need to bring her back, and have her kick some ass,” Jeremy said.

“That’s not the way of the Goddess,” Tory said.

Jeremy nodded. She clearly didn’t know the goddess the way he knew her. “The radio will be fine in a couple of days. Don’t spend money on it. I will reimburse you for the ticket.”

Tory looked at Jeremy then back to the road. “You put a spell on my radio?”

“Are you bipolar?” Jeremy asked.

“Where did that come from?” Tory asked.

“Hypersexual, hyper-religiosity, questionable boundaries, cut marks on your wrists, storming the castle with a five year old in your arms,” Jeremy said.

“Oh, aren’t you suddenly a mental health expert,” Tory said.

“Everything can be explained through psychology and physics. You don’t have to answer,” Jeremy said. “It’s none of my business.”

“Yes, it is,” Tory said. She touched his arm kindly, and then brought her hands back to the wheel. Both hands on the wheel. She took driving seriously. She was not leaning back, her left leg wasn’t in the seat. She was focused. “I hit on you because I wanted to get to know you. Transparency is part of the deal. If you truly can’t abide me, I would rather know sooner than later. If you have laundry list of deal breakers, I need that list. I have had past episodes of major depression. I have a history of self-harm. I hate taking drugs, and I find when I get migraines, cutting helps cut the episode time in half. I am not hyper-religious. I am a practicing witch, and I have evidence that my spells work. I am hypersexual. This is likely a direct result of being sexually abused from the age of 4 to 14.”

Jeremy was quiet, counting streetlights.

“Go ahead. Ask me anything,” Tory said.

“What’s your evidence?” Jeremy said.

Tory raised her eyebrow. “For spells? Out of all of that I handed you, you go for the evidence of magic?”

“Yeah, I am interested,” Jeremy said.

“You called me?” Tory offered.

Jeremy sighed. “Too circumstantial and random to be considered true evidence.”

“You called me! Same day I gave you my number and I said you would call me,” Tory said. “You could have called anyone. You called me.”

“Random,” Jeremy said.

“Could you have called anyone else?” Tory asked.

“I don’t really have friends. Not in the area. Not that I want involved. No family,” Jeremy said.

“So, in addition to spelling you to call, events conspired to escalate the need forcing you to call me,” Tory said. She smiled broadly. “You want me.”

“No, I don’t,” Jeremy said.

“Because of my sordid history?” Tory asked.

“No,” Jeremy said. “Everyone has histories and trauma and we each deal in our own way.”

“Because I have a son?” Tory asked.

“No!” Jeremy said. “I would never not date someone because they had a child. Conditionally.”

“What does that mean?” Tory asked.

“Well, children need stability. Relationships don’t last these days. I don’t want to be the guy that comes, woos the woman, makes friends with a kid, and then decides it’s not working out and has to leave,” Jeremy said. “That’s a lot of pressure to be putting on kids. They just want to feel safe; consistency equals security.”

“What makes you think it won’t work out?” Tory asked.

“I don’t know that it won’t work out. I do know that the time and energy necessary to discover whether or not that it will work out forges the very relationship that needs to be avoided in the event that it doesn’t work out,” Jeremy said.

Tory nodded. “I appreciate that. It means you’re more serious of a person than almost any guy I have met to date.”

“You don’t know me,” Jeremy said.

“I know,” Tory said. “I am going on intuition. And I broke two rules today coming to get you. First, I never introduce my son to someone I am dating until they have demonstrated they can stick around for a year. My guy will have to not be catered to every minute. He has to understand dates will get canceled. My son comes first. That’s the primary deal.”

“Good for you. Technically, he still hasn’t met me,” Jeremy said, looking back at the sleeping toddler. “But yeah, showing up with him is something that worries me about you.”

“Fair enough,” Tory said.

“Second rule?” Jeremy asked.

“Don’t date anyone my age,” Tory said.

“Seriously?” Jeremy asked.

“Have you not met guys our age?” Tory asked.

“I am a guy our age,” Jeremy said. “What age bracket do you prefer?”

“Someone in their fifties,” Tory said. “An older man who looks younger than his age is an indication of someone who took general good care of themselves, tends to be happy, and is financially stable. Forty and younger are usually still trying to figure themselves out, which says more about our society than individuals.”

Jeremy considered, nodded, and looked away.

“My turn,” Tory said. “What did you do?”

“You assume it’s your turn and that I am playing,” Jeremy said.

“Yes. You were kind enough to listen without objecting. So, either you’re sharing or becoming my counselor. I don’t need a counselor. I have one,” Tory said. “Your turn.”

“I would prefer being questioned to randomly sharing,” Jeremy said.

“Okay. What did you do to get arrested?” Tory said.

“I sort of committed a crime,” Jeremy said.

“Sort of?” Tory said.

“When I gave the clerk at the book store the hundred dollars, I didn’t realize that was my last bit of cash,” Jeremy said. “I only use cash. I needed a quick infusion to last till the end of the month.”

“So, you robbed a bank?” Tory asked.

“No! Never,” Jeremy said. “Technically, I think there is a gray area here. The trade was legit. It just feels like an ethical violation because I know the value of the trade is worth zero.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Tory said.

“It would be easier to show you,” Jeremy said.

“Show me? Show me what?” Tory asked.

“Turn the light on for me?” Jeremy said.

“You can’t reach it?” Tory asked.

“I touch it, the light burns out,” Jeremy said. “I can’t operate cell phones, computers, or watches. No cars. Nothing electrical. No lights. No refrigerators. I am grateful toilets don’t need electricity. Best machines ever made. I have a wind up pocket watch from Russia. Damn hard to find pocket watches in the states that don’t use batteries.”