The Punisher

I wasn't trying to oversell DND, I just figured that if they came to a single game they might not stay but they should at least get a feel for how fun it could be.

== Rolling Up Characters ==

After school, again Emma and Kara met me at my locker.

Their faces had tear streaks from reading the books we'd checked out. I figured the crying wasn't from the Algebra, and when I asked, they confirmed that the math was the best part.

Alina Kovol (from DND) came up to us, coat on and slung bookbag over a shoulder. "Ready?"

I was confused. "Ready for what?"

"Mary texted me I should pick you up and drive you... all... home. We're having a mini-campaign, some people wanted to roll up some characters and start a side quest, just to see what it's like before the tournament this weekend."

News was coming fast. "Uh, okay? Tournament?"

"Friday to Sunday. Gonna be at my house. Very low key, we know you. Come on, I'll explain on the way."

Alina was fun to hang with, though she could get quiet sometimes, at odd moments during the game, and she'd have to go to the bathroom and cry for a while. I didn't know why exactly, just something we worked around. Jo had once said it was related to the war, Alina had told her soldiers had tortured and killed her parents back in Ukraine. We didn't ever get the full story, just that she was living with grandparents and her older sister's family.

We walked out and piled into her car, a shiny-sided cybertruck with some rear-end damage. She had crap all over the seats - a baby seat in the center, toys, blankets, grown-up clothes, some trash, etc. We had to clear a little to get in. She apologized and said her sister used the truck a lot and didn't clean up after herself.

I'd never ridden in one and was amazed how quiet it was, until we got up to speed and the tires made a humming sound from being knobby.

We went back to my house and got clothes. Alina said we might go late so bring our bedroll and we could just leave from her house to go back to school.

I thought that might be fun, but the girls were confused and took an extra 20 minutes just trying to get the right things in a bag.

Alina and I laughed; she filled me in on Mary's plan, which sounded pretty cool.

Finally we got our stuff together and headed out.

Alina's house (I'd been there once before but had gotten a ride from Mary) was off west of us, on the outskirts right by UNB. It was a sprawling farmhouse that had been a forestry rooming house back 100 years ago, like some robber-baron's place. Right next to it on the property, maybe 50 meters away, someone had built an apartment building (aimed the other way), two story and long, filling up a hillside but with its own parking lot that exited over towards the university.

As we drove up, she mentioned that it was always an adventure every year because the apartments (in her house and in the apartment building) were rented by students and they'd disappear and then magically reappear in august, and sometimes her family didn't know if they'd rent them all or not.

The ground was snow-covered, but I could see some greenhouses stretching off towards a field, which was new to me, and a set of three steel barn outbuildings for their sheep.

Sheep?

This was wild. I knew there were fields out there, but not what they were up to.

We pulled into the Victorian farmhouse's yard / parking area and I got a look at the eclectic architecture resulting from umpteen additions all just being expedient, going up the hillside away from us. Saint John was rife with escarpments, it went with being part of a rocky coastline, and building on granite and on the side of steep hills went with the actual territory.

There were several cars parked, and a big box truck with a set of movers bringing boxes out.

Emma asked, "What's up?"

Either Alina didn't hear her or was ignoring her, so I repeated the question.

"Oh, my uncle and his family are moving out. He got a job up in Miramachi, teaching welding at their NBCC branch, shipbuilding, that stuff. Pay is a lot better, and a big house. He'll need it."

"Lots of kids?"

"Oh, his are older, mostly, so he's getting a sweet deal of free tuition for them. Still, he's leaving a lot of the kids' toys, no need to move that stuff and no matter how big a house is, toys expand to fill all available space."

We'd reached the door (propped open) and had to wait for a couch to be extracted.

While we were standing there, Mary drove up with Gail (from cross-country and notably, the showers that previous Monday), and Petra and Thera, both girls from chorus I'd sung with in madrigals. Petra was sweet, a dark-haired totally girl-next-door beauty when she took her glasses off (which she rarely did).

Thera (really Theresa) was a northern-italian blonde gal who also did swimming (so she had strong shoulders) and a huge chest. She played it up with her madrigal costume, wearing various kinds of things I'd heard her call either a cup-bustier or a bodice. I didn't know names for things like that, but I liked watching her move in her dresses.

She had a lot of flexibility with it. Usually she'd wear a complex multi-strapped bra underneath, then her costume, and then some fabric on top (or NOT!) to give her either amazing cleavage for a bawdy song or a conservative look for a less secular one.

Her voice was bigger than her chest, with vocal agility I could only dream of, hopping between notes super-fast. Guys don't get that by default, I think, at least guys not named Freddie Mercury.

Of course, when I happened to see Thera change costumes, I got to see how she assembled herself. While she had a lot up top, she looked remarkably normal-sized below her bustline, so the contrast was kind of funny, and sexy at the same time.

It's not polite to stare when in the changing room, but over time you can build up a mental image, and I very much did.

Standing there, I held the screen door open for the movers with my foot.

Mary was in front, waiting to go in.

As they cleared out, Mary was first in line, but instead of walking right in, she stepped to me and fell into a giant hug, which then turned into a relaxing-in happy hug plus a full-lips passionate kiss. She ended this with a smiling-behind-the-kiss theatrical "MMmmWaaaa!" sound.

Going inside, she called out, "NEXT!"

Emma took that as a directive, and did the same thing, which was a little odd because we hadn't exactly been passionate before in our kissing. We had kissed with some passion before, but it was (in my mind) mostly attached to us being sexy together, and it being the right-thing-to-do, for me to be respectful of her as we were physically intimate.

Emma's 'MmmmWWaaa!' sound copied Mary, and she walked inside.

Kara chuckled a little and did the same, with an even longer "MmmmmWWWaaa!". Her step away from me included a saunter of happy-at-the-joke, which was a rare instance of her seeming almost-happy.

I was just confused, but okay with it.

Then... Thera (the large breasted one) stepped up. She was next in line and had started laughing, too, and copied the maneuver, including pulling my face over by cupping my cheek with the kiss.

Thera's kiss had some passion, though. Pulling away, she said, "I like! You do?"

My eyebrows were up and all I could think and say was, "Yeah!"

Gail, the total opposite of body type by being so slim, was next, and she slid in, confused why she was doing it, I think, but liking it. Her kiss was more businesslike, a thing being done but also a decision being made that it was okay to do that.

Petra was standing next to Alina and she was a lot more shy than that normally. Alina motioned for her to go first and said, "Kevin, do you want her...?"

I gave a quick nod and said 'I do, want...' (looking in her eyes), but stopped talking when I saw the start of tears. Not knowing what to do, I held my arms open, low. This could give her permission or allow passage by. She took the invite and stepped in, hugging me, a tight hug that wasn't just a pro-forma thing but a real solid hug, which she followed by looking up at me (she was shorter) and pulling my head down to hers to meet her kiss.

This kiss didn't stop quickly, and she inhaled and exhaled in the middle.

When I shifted for balance, she broke it, pursed her lips with a worried-hopeful look, and walked in.

Alina was shaking her head, talking quietly between us. "She's got it bad, Kev." Inspired though, she shrugged and stepped in to hug and kiss me, but before she did, she said, "If you don't marry her, I will."

I smiled at that, and she embraced me, touching my cheeks with hers, smiling and inhaling, slowly, making a small "Hmmmm...." sound as she did, then kissing me deeply and with some fervor. I liked that, too!

After we unkissed, she took my hand and led me inside.

We found the house was a total mess, mostly of boxes, but also things piled here and there.

Alina led us to the kitchen, around a giant chimney that opened to both the great room and becoming a kitchen hearth with a super old-timey cooking stove with a small woodpile next to it.

We all sat around the table and Mary got out two large cloth-drawstring bags of dice, and handed out paper.

The rolling up a character process usually takes about an hour, but with so many unknowns going on and a lot of explaining to do. She didn't hand out dice or paper to Emma and Kara, so they just sat there looking bored.

About 4:30, an older lady came in and Alina introduced her as her grandmother, Baba.

According to Alina, 'Baba' just means grandmother in Ukrainian, but it was a term of endearment and we were all supposed to use it.

Baba looked around slowly and silently at all the girls. Her intrigued expression ended when she locked eyes with me and gave me a warm smile that seemed to have real caring in it, even if she didn't know me.

(She obviously noticed but skipped looking at Emma and Kara, sitting off to the side)

Alina introduced everyone and she nodded to us, then turned around, washed her hands, and declared that it was time to get dinner started, and what did I want.

I answered simply that anything she was making would be fine, and everyone agreed with me. This was good, so she went back to getting things out of the fridge and cupboards in an efficient way that told me she was master of everything around her.

Frankly, it was funny, and fun, to watch her move, for some reason.

Since I was ancillary to the character roll-up anyway, I got up and walked over to talk with her.

She had a kind smile. "How can I help you, Kevin?"

I looked over at Emma and Kara. "I have a problem, ma'am. My wives, Emma and Kara, don't know anything about cooking." As I said their names, they turned around and looked at me, and I motioned for them to get up.

Looking back at Baba, I asked, "I know this is a complicated thing, I don't know you at all, and yet... it feels like, I can ask? Can you help me by teaching them how to cook, manage the...stuff, here?" I motioned to the kitchen. Then, looking back at the girls, I said almost forcefully, "They will be respectful, and follow your directions, and learn, uh, ... kitchen-work, right? Everything involved, in... uh, making food and home... uh,... life? My wives?" I didn't want to limit it to cooking, there were dishes and food-choice and other tasks, and they probably couldn't have jobs, so they needed to know all the home task skills. I was thinking, if I could get this lady to help, that'd be great.

At the moment I said that to the girls, my ring gave me a significant, suddenly-powerful and continuous high-pain sting, and I touched it to make it stop. They jumped a little too, so their rings had done something.

Looking back at Baba, she squinted at the girls and said forthrightly, "This is not a small thing you ask. These are idiot babies. They only think of themselves, how to do the minimum work to get by. No common sense. No love. No thinking of what life really is, what it means. The First Rules of life - food and compassion - ne debayushy [without caring]. They probably can't bend over to pick up trash, their noses are too inflated."

She was great. This was a woman that told things as she saw them! I suddenly loved her. Smiling, I asked, "Where was I when you were young, ma'am?"

She shrieked with laughter, stopping the conversation for a minute, and shrieked, "You! Ah! Funny! I give permission, you marry Alina, not me!"

The table thought that was funny, too, and I kind of shrugged, not knowing what would happen next.

Calming down, we both looked at Emma and Kara. She said, "I teach them. They will work. All night, all day. You sleep here, you can't separate, I know this. You give Alina joys, I give your wives, start at bottom skills, skills of 4 year olds. For five year skills, takes longer. Ha! Now, maybe, you give Alina sixteen joys - then I give, your women get sixteen skills, forever kitchen things." She was nodding. "BUT! I cannot make them love. Only you give them, you have it. Big love. You make. You create love, you make hearts, in them. If they can have, you give. I watch. You agree?"

She stuck out her hand. I wasn't sure what I was agreeing to, but I was pretty sure it was kitchen lessons, and it might be I'd have to sleep over, and maybe go on dates with Alina. I shook her hand, "Yes. I agree."

When I shook hands, my ring heated up like it sometimes did, and I saw the girls lift their fingers, too, like their rings itched.

Pulling me down, she kissed me on both cheeks, twice, and then told me I had to do the same thing to Alina, to pass on the love. Alina was paying attention and got up, standing in front of me and sticking out her face to make it easy.

I laughed; she took my hands in hers between us and said, "Give me joy."

I kissed her on both cheeks as instructed, and she leaned in, so I kissed her lips, too.

Of course, this was observed from the table, so Mary got up and kissed me, too, and I had to go sit down again so they could keep rolling up characters.

After Mary, Thera, Gail, and Joanna each repeated this and I was happy to have more kisses.

It was pretty sweet, this thing, getting kisses from girls all the time.

Emma and Kara looked at me with wider eyes, standing back as the procession of girls went back to sit and work.

Baba looked at them, I watched it, then.. pulled the two off and led them outside?!?!

Outside? Without coats?

I watched them leave through the kitchen door, and stood to watch. The other girls, too, wanted to see what Baba would do, so quickly it was all of us staring out the kitchen windows.

She led them out the kitchen door and off the porch, onto the frozen snowy ground in what was probably a section of lawn.

They'd taken their coats off when they came in, they were only in sweatshirts and were obviously cold. Baba pointed, and they were confused and then irritated, but complied. Both of them took off their sweatshirts, dropping them on the ground.

We were all watching and wondering, the windows cracked open so we could hear what Baba was saying.

Baba had them pick up the sweatshirts they'd casually dropped, then fold them nicely and lay them carefully on the snowy ground. That done, the girls had to pull off their shoes and socks, neatly and set them side by side.

On it went, each item of clothing off and folded, outside in the late-afternoon dusky light.

When they were completely naked, cold wind and all (it had to be at least minus 5, maybe minus 10, with a wind), she made them lay down on the ground on their backs, in the mostly-hard, crunchy, and certainly painfully sharp, crazy-nasty-cold snow.

Alina murmured, "She did this with me, too. I think I was five. I remember every word."

We missed a few words when Alina said that.

Baba continued, "...you lie, dead in the ground, under dirt, never to be again. That is the life, and the death. When the man, he goes to war, he knows this death waits, sneaky, always nearby. He fights for YOU, he keeps YOU safe, YOU who make him FOOD and BABIES and all Soft and Happy of his life. You do not get soft and happy. You get hard and cold, and pain in pregnancy, and death in childbirth. You get no thanks and no reward and that's how it is. That's ALWAYS been how it is. Everything else is a LIE. We, we do not lie to each other, today."

"We are Strong. We are WOMEN. We make the impossible - new people. Happiness. Joy. Giggles. Are you giggling now? NO. You are dead inside! You have no peace inside. We will MAKE the peace. We will make joy, and put that joy into food, we feed the MAN. We feed the BABIES, with the milk in our teats. We FEED, our joy shouts when we FEED. We shout at the dark empty cold dirt that will be our home, we shout NOT YET! Until that day, we Fight."

"We clean. We cook. Because we are FULL people, we are so full that whole new people can drop out of us! NOW. You feel that cold? On your butt? On your back? That cold is nothing to the pain of not having love. A love, gone, died in war. Died of a childhood fever. Died of a cut that would not heal. MISSING our love, the EMPTY COLD of not having that PERSON that OH GOD that person? That pain is of ancient times, of now times, of future times. That pain waits. We fight it, we yell at death, NOT TODAY. We are tough. We endure. Yet we know that pain will come, so we FIGHT and we FEED. The pain does not matter. ONLY the LIFE MATTERS. We move on. Get up now. Remember these words, they are OLD words! You tell them, to YOUR children, your grand-children, your nieces. IF you are good enough."

They got up, their eyes wide and tears streaming down their faces.

"We go inside. We clean Everything. Sharp knives, cut food. Food today? We will put it in a pot. We will make a soup. Soup is easy. But! You do not have the One Best ingredient. Instead, I put that ingredient in. LOVE is the ingredient. You can try. But love is not a word. Love is doing. Love Fills us, if we let it. Now. Carry your clothes, go inside naked. You will have no shield. Everyone will see your big ugly shit noses. You let go of your noses. Feel the nose, but also feel, in you, say it, I am LIFE. Think it, as you cook. Think, 'I put my life in this food'. Feel your center. Feel what waits in you, the tool, the Most Important tool - the good deep abdomen tool - the womb. You feel that, it pulses, a month, pulses. You do NOT forget. You feel upwards, too, your heart? It beats, it pushes blood so you can try to be better than four year olds in My Kitchen. Feel that blood. Feel that life. You have anger. It's not useful. Let that go. Ask WHY instead. Ask me why. Ask what is The Good, the RIGHT, I will tell you. Then, you Push that into the food, as we work. You will see."

They were coming inside, so we shut the window and went back to the table.

Mary asked, "Same for you, Alina?"

"More or less. She was still harsh, but it was harsh with a purpose. I started to understand then, it took a while. I've heard her give that speech three other times, and it Echoes into my head, deep, deep echoes. Each time. I'm still learning. I hope I never stop." Alina was crying; tears dripped, and I saw the other girls were crying, too.

We went back to rolling up characters, though the tone was more subdued. Emma and Kara came in naked and set their clothes on a side table near the door. Since there were moving people in the next room, Baba handed the girls aprons and had them stand so their bare butts were away from the workmen.

Frankly, I think they were so unnoticed and disregarded daily they could have walked around school naked. I wondered if I could test that.

First she had them take butter knives and 'chop' piles of sugar, until they got that right, curling fingers under. They kept working.

Meanwhile, Baba got out two immense stock pots (nesting) and set them to boil, then started fast-efficient chopping potatoes, onions, carrots, what looked like turnips and cabbage into the pots.