Dark Chronicles of Nooria 8

I had visions of a little better than that. Army technician, master corporal, top of the increments $48,000 a year. Well what can you do?
"You look sad," Arezou says, "something bothering you?"
We see a huge cliff off in the distance, gray water below.
"Stop thinking that," she asserts.
"How'd you know?"
"Come on, let's go somewhere else, too depressing looking at that."

After lunch Arezou and I relax in B14 a bit. She sits on her bed and I lie with my head in her lap. As we get up to go for another walk, I catch Shauzia's look. She has a way of communicating a lot with just one glance. 1. Told you so. 2. See how easy it is. 3. Wonder why the others haven't caught on.
At supper, it's the usual, Arezou talking with her friends and me with Shauzia. She grins slyly, "ya see how it goes?"
"Yeah, funny, give in on a few little things and it's easy. Argue equality, you'll do so forever."
Wicked grin, "and what makes you think those arguing are unhappy?"
"Gotcha, just different style."
"Bottom line," Shauzia asserts, "look around, everyone ultimately finds the right sort."
My opinion of her has changed a lot in just a few days. Used to view her as a sellout to women's lib; now just another girl making her way in a cold difficult world.
She grins, "I know we ain't supposed to ask questions bout the past. But you, guessing you grew up in a household where there wasn't one ounce of affection. Never hugged or kissed, one yearend to another."
"That obvious?"
"Had you spotted as such from Day One. Why you suppose Arezou was so quick to volunteer to help you out?"
There's a lull in Arezou's conversation, as one gets up to fetch a tea refill.
Arezou leans over, talks to Shauzia directly, ignoring me, "think I mighta goofed. Telling her just the one hairstyle. Think you could teach her coupla more?"
Shauzia beams, "my pleasure, Arezou, right after supper."
As Arezou returns to her conversation, Shauzia says quietly, "better to remain the woman of mystery. Be a bore, they wander."
"Sounds like the women's magazines."
She laughs, "same everywhere, Greenland, New Guinea, New York or here."

All of B14, Arifa included, gather around as Shauzia does her stuff. The oohs and ahs make it obvious which styles Arezou will pick.
"Those last two," Arezou asserts, "teach her those."
"Certainly, Arezou, my pleasure."
The group fades away, as Shauzia begins to show me technique.

Next morning Arezou and I sit, overlooking the placid water of a little bay. "So, beautiful one, care to talk light medium heavy or not at all today?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"Cannibalism would be heavy; your 2 dreams medium. Your choice."
"Go with the dreams."
"Now look Nooria, I don't mean to sound cruel, but it's the truth. You talk, you come across as a bore. Reason no emotion. You give the most graphic of stories in the tone of going to the market and buying tea and bread."
"Am I that bad?"
"Yes. So you tell me, oh mistress of the hidden meanings. Both those stories were delivered in the same tone. I'm guessing the dreams themselves, different tone. Tell me."
"The plane, the B24, like watching a black and white movie, sound and sight. Only difference, I happen to be in the pilot's chair. The German dream, whole different ballgame. Taste the cigarette when sarge and I talk. See the colors of Crete. Smell the blood, the cordite. Feel the rush of air when I jump. Feel the blood spatter when we shot from too close at Jozefow. Inexperience you know, got better over time. Feel the pain of my hand."
She ponders a moment, "I guess the bomber story came from a movie you saw as a child. Forgot the movie, but your subconscious didn't. Sound reasonable?"
"Yes."
"German dream, more than a movie. Perhaps alternate reality as in science fiction? Ever read sci fi?"
"Bit of Heinlein, liked it."
"Ah, you are open-minded. You do believe alternate reality or different timelines exist."
"I like to think of myself as open-minded."
"Or you could be insane? Split personality, schizo or such?"
"I admit that's possible too."
"Excellent, a truly open-minded person. No one admits to that. Or could be reincarnation. Ever heard of it?"
"Just a bit."
"Hindus and Buddhists believe, you live one lifetime after another. Change bodies but same soul."
"Sounds a bit far-fetched to me."
She laughs, "you admit there could be alternate reality or you could be insane, but you choke on that?"
I blush, know where she is headed.
"So you see, the other things there's no real blame on you, they just are. But if you admitted reincarnation is possible, you'd be a fairly bad egg, some 180,000 murders."
"Teacher had it wrong. Didn't dare tell her. Real number is 223,000."
"Now that is a pretty accurate figure, for a dream I mean."
I pass on that.
"Plus I suspect you lied to Fereshta bigtime. You talk of 'sickening' at this Jozefow place. Oh no, no way, you mean after. That evening, next day, next week was sickening. During it, a sense of wild joy. Right? Then the guilt and such after."
She stares into my eyes, "you gonna try and deny that?"
I avert my eyes, say nothing.
"Now look, Nooria, I ain't saying you're guilty. I've read a fair bit about this stuff at the library. There is one unique type of event. See, just as you are being born, someone else is dying nearby, same hospital maybe. Their memories are so powerful, it simply overpowers your own. You become them in a sense."
"So you mean it is possible I was the pilot. That faded and the German memories of another took over. What would you say are mathematical odds of that?"
She sighs, "Nooria, think 99% odds you're the German, 1% you're the American pilot."
I groan aloud, "so that makes me a pretty bad person?"
She hugs me gently, "the times, your injury. Not a lotta choice. And round here you'd be a hero. You saw how thrilled those girls were when the teacher admitted it was Jews."
"You gonna dump me, aren't you?"
"No, judge others, God judges you more harshly. Between you and God, none of my business. We're still Friends. And there is one piece of evidence you weren't deemed guilty of physical cruelty."
"What?"
"Standard punishment would be to return physically handicapped. Nothing physically wrong with you. Would suggest though, they believe you guilty of psychological cruelty."
I groan aloud, catch the implication, "meaning I gotta live through it, find out for myself?"
"Right in one. You really are pretty smart, pretty open-minded. Glad we're Friends. Wanna talk more?"
"No. Just hold me tight, real tight. Afraid what I might do, ocean I mean."

We're in the foodline. Meena guffaws loudly, "slept in, real hungry. Could eat the north end of a south bound camel, raw if necessary."
Gulazar laughs, "let's hope you get the last of the raw. Me, just love cooked camel ass."
"Rare, medium or welldone?"
"Go on with you. Rare means dripping in blood. Welldone, burnt to a crisp. Round here, better ask for medium."
"Oh headwaiter, a cheerful little table for two, right near the dancing girls."
By now everyone in line nearby is laughing.
"Go on with you, couldn't even afford to tip the headwaiter."
Beside me, Shauzia says gently, "look real nice when you laugh, gotta do it more often."
"Tell me about it."
"Arezou beat you up this morning. Psychological I mean."
"Sort of."
"Don't go too far out on a limb. Views herself a #1 headshrinker. If she gets too scary, go the real counsellor."
"But I'm not nuts."
"Don't hafta be. Better to talk to an expert than some half-baked, shoot-from-the-hip library hound."

Later I debate with myself, would Arezou be offended? I simply tell her I'd like to try one appointment, just to see. The look of pure relief washing over her face clues me in, she felt she was in too deep.