X-Ray Vision Ch. 04: Extolled

I measured out three heaping spoonful's, way too much tea, just like Phuong liked, put the lid on the pot. This stuff was gonna be undrinkable! And no sugar in the place.

I waited the three minutes, using his old mantle clock to keep time. It was a fancy thing, wood with a parquet veneer, meant for a fancy house. Phuong had it on top of his little refrigerator.

Time's up! Put the pot on the table, on a little trivet.

Phuong gestured for me to sit. So I sat!

He indicated I should pour. So I poured, first into his cup. Like Khang said I picked up his cup, held it by three fingers, two on the bottom and one balancing the rim, handed it over.

He took it the same way, blew, sipped a tiny sip, nodded. Good!

Now I could pour mine, blow, take a sip. Smiled despite the glow starting somewhere behind my eyes.

The things I do for my Grandfather!

But Phuong is a dear, he likes me, this is all going to be ok. I'm just nervous, because I want it to go well for him and it's my first time.

"Granddaughter!"

I grinned, I still love it when he calls me that. He cracked a smile as well, I think he was as pleased as I am.

Looking more stern, "It's time you learned of the duties of a respectable wife in a Vietnamese family."

My turn to respond, like in church. "Yes Ông Ngoại" I nailed the pronunciation! Thank you Khang.

"You have been raised as an American, so do not know the correct things, the duties and expectations. That is understood. I will be tolerant. As a grandfather should be!"

This stuff worked both ways, I was glad to learn. As long as I tried, he would put up with me.

He paused, unsure of the next part. "I am a traditional Vietnamese, old and inflexible Khang tells me. So I understand you may find me difficult at times. Please be tolerant as well!"

That cost him something to say. I put out a hand, touched his, smiled. We're all friends here. Family in fact! This was going to be ok.

This was a new thing for us. Unexpected American granddaughter for him. Surprise sister and grandfather for me! We both were invested in it; both wanted it to work, with all our hearts.

He, because his lesbian granddaughter would likely never provide him with great-grandchildren.

And me? Because I wanted, needed a family. I had thought I didn't, I could do without like I always had. When Khang informed me I was her sister, something in me grabbed onto that with both hands. Like a life-line, I had been drowning and now I was saved.

Sounds dramatic? Consider: not long ago I had been standing in the surf ready to swim out, never look back. No family; no friends; no money; no future.

A kind stranger offered help, food and a bed, sympathy. No strings attached.

Now I was a girlfriend, a sister, a granddaughter. And I wanted it all, would do everything needed to make it work. For all of us.

And oh, by the way, my boyfriend has super powers. He can see through stuff with x-ray vision. Not really; he just sees it all, it's right in front of his mind's eye, even in the dark, even with his eyes closed.

Khang calls him a Hungry Ghost. Grandfather Phuong says he's a Spirit Medium. I dunno how it works, and it doesn't matter. He's a nice guy, kind in all the ways!

He finds things, just by looking. Money, discarded or lost or left someplace. My shoes, when I've forgotten where I put them. Where they keep the pop-tarts at the grocery store. Whatever you want.

Khang says Greg found me, her long-lost dreamed-about sister, because he's the Finder. Not a biological sister; a sister in spirit. Anyway we've decided it's a fact, we're sisters, Phuong has two granddaughters now. And Greg is courting me with Phuong's permission.

So I'm here, learning the duties of a granddaughter/prospective wife. Because Greg loves me, I'm sure of that. And I want to take the next step, all the steps from here on.

Grandfather had started, pay attention girl!

"A wife must run the household; make purchases with care, to preserve the family monies."

"Yes Ông Ngoại". Ha. Greg has all the money he wants, more whenever he cares to go look for it. Greg and I have agreed, I will have the chore of spending it. Because he hates stores; too much to see all at once. Poor baby, his special sight is sometimes a curse.

I did like a bargain, and that hasn't changed just because we have limitless resources. Growing up poor, we do appreciate our special circumstances. So yes, I can perform that duty without reservations.

"A wife bears children for her husband, for the family, when the family desires and can support them, or the fates intervene."

"Yes Ông Ngoại". I was frankly terrified of having children. My childhood had been a train wreck; how could I be a mother, when I'd never had one?

And Greg! Seeing his child grow in me, day by day. A blessing! Unless something went wrong. Then he'd witness the tragedy unfold, helpless to do anything. Like he'd had to watch his parents die of cancer, alcoholism.

Phuong saw that I had reservations. He reached out, put his hand on mine, squeezed. Whether he understood my fears or not, he cared that I had them, wanted to comfort me! That would be something; whatever happened we'd have family to help. That was new to me, and would take some time for me to work out.

"A wife cares for, educates the children so they may grow and prosper, and assume their duties in time."

"Yes Ông Ngoại". That was gonna be a blast, should Greg and I have children! What if some were like him?! With a parent to guide them, help them understand from the beginning, instead of facing it ignorant and fearful like he had, imagine what they might do!

"A wife strives to provide all things necessary for her husband, letting him lack for nothing in the home."

"Yes Ông Ngoại". Khang had mentioned that one. Why marry unless you want to do that already? And Greg, provide for me too. He had proved himself willing to do that since the moment I met him and every moment since. A slam-dunk.

"A wife comforts and administers to a husband, with her body and her skills."

I grinned at that one, "Yes Ông Ngoại". I was looking forward to 'comforting' Greg. Imagine what a man who saw how every touch, every stroke affected you inside and out, how wonderful that could feel!

Kissing Greg was already breathtaking. Sex with Greg was gonna be epic.

"A wife cares first for her husband and children, and then for her grandparents, parents, brothers and sisters."

"Yes Ông Ngoại!" Greg and I have zero parents between us; zero siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins. It was just the two of us against the world, until Khang and Phuong appeared.

I loved my sister Khang, with all my heart. She is a firecracker! I've learned so much, and have so much to learn from her. She is finally happy since Greg 'found' the sister she'd always known she had.

Greg had already pledged to support me, Khang and Phuong so long as I would let him. So everybody on the same page there.

"A wife relies on her family, for all they are expected to do, in accordance with their duties."

"Yes Ông Ngoại." That one was gonna take some getting used to. When Greg had offered me help, when I was at the bottom, I reacted badly. I was suspicious, fearful. Nobody had done anything like that for me, ever.

Even Khang, my sister that I love, when she said she was making me a dress I was hesitant. Why? I don't know! It makes no sense. She wanted to do it; I wanted it. Still I resisted. Gonna take some practice, accepting help, love, gifts of time and attention.

Now he threw a curveball at me. "You have heard me speak of the duties of a good Vietnamese wife. Can you now tell me what they are? As you understand them?"

Panic. What if I miss one? Will he be disappointed with me? I didn't know there would be a quiz!

Take a deep breath. Phuong wants me to succeed, wants me as a granddaughter. He'll correct me if I slip up, with kindness and good grace.

"Yes Ông Ngoại!" I bent my head as a dutiful second granddaughter should, humble and respectful of an elder.

"A wife should spend household monies carefully, and avoid waste. A wife will have children as we desire, love them, care for them and teach them their duties.

"A wife cares for her husband, rubs his back when he's sore, sleeps with him when he's affectionate or troubled, laughs and cries with him.

"A wife loves her extended family too, making sure they are safe and loved, supported and listened to, respected. Because they are going to do that for me, and it's only right and fair."

His faced lit up, all wreathed in smiles and joy. Pride maybe? That felt good to see.

"You understand! Yes, you are a fine woman, and I'm proud to call you granddaughter. You will be a beautiful, dutiful wife for someone, and they will feel joy to call you family. As I do!"

He leaned forward impulsively to where I sat, kissed my forehead. I looked up, pleased and happy. I went to him at his seat, crouched, hugged him. He patted my back contentedly. All was right with the world.

...

Gregory

I'm supposed to be helping people now, Jillian's idea to get me in the community, doing good. That's her thing I think, doing good. Probably from having such a raw deal herself.

Whatever the reason, she's promised a kiss for every good deed I do. Which is no kind of motivation theoretically, but every kind in reality. Good-deed kisses were the best ones.

I had my breast-cancer screening fliers as always. Stopped by the hospital for some addiction-helpline ones. Got some sympathetic looks, but nothing new, and I have no reputation to sully.

It seemed obvious that I should have lots of opportunities to help people, super power and all. But now that I'm out here, what is that exactly? I'm no superman, solving crime or saving lives in the nick of time. What else then?

My cancer-screening fliers had an abysmal rate of return, or so I imagine. They don't get a good response. Mostly annoyance. But help one person, that would make it worth it.

These new fliers could be worse. Addicts are notoriously bad at self-management. If I found somebody in public with a friend, I could give it to the friend? Still chancy.

A guy pulled up to the curb, parked in a newer model car. One fuel injector was not working, ejecting fuel unburnt. It gave a Fufff! noise as the engine stopped.

I might help this guy!

"How do you like your sedan? Pretty nice!"

He paused at the meter, unsure, looked at me. "It's ok. Not got the power I expected."

I nodded, like I was an expert or something. I didn't even know the model without looking at the badge.

"Fuel injector, sounds like number four, nearest the right fender. Stuttering; you can hear it if you're standing out here."

He perked up. "Really? It's still under warranty. Hey, thanks!"

I nodded, one car-guy to another. He walked off whistling, happy to have some explanation for his dissatisfaction.

Pretending to 'hear' his problem was inspiration. I didn't have to seem like a guru or quote stats; just lucky to be standing here! Glad to help!

Ok, not world-saving but I'm gonna count it. That's one!

...

Downtown, lots of shops and stands. What kind of problems did people have here?

Mostly shoplifting, from my experience. Couldn't walk through the area without somebody leaving a shop, hiding something in their shirt. Right there - that young lady has three pair of panties on. What could I do about that? Accost her? That'd be creepy - 'Hey girl you have too much underwear!' No, not gonna go that route.

And telling the staff, about the same problem. 'I was peeping in the changing room at a young girl, and saw her putting on three pair of panties.' Nope.

Whoops! Almost missed her. Clerk in the bookstore, not very large yet. I hared in, handed her the breast-cancer screening flier, smiled, said good day! before she could read it.

I 'saw' her looking at it once I was outside, putting one hand to her breast - at the right spot! She was already aware of the lump! Maybe a win there. She stared at the door as if wondering how I knew. Never mind any thanks; I would get reward enough back home.

That's two. A big one. Not superman, but still helping save lives.

...

A pickpocket working the transit stop. Had two wallets in his jacket - one was probably his, the other stolen. Was working his way into a crowd waiting for the local. Had targeting a business type, standing too close, inching his hand toward the coat pocket. There was a wallet in there; how did he know? The way it hung, the weight of it I suppose. I interrupted.

"Sir? Do you know when this bus is expected? Is it late?"

He turned, bringing his jacket around, the pickpocket thwarted for now. "Not late yet; supposed to be along right about now." On signal, the bus rounded the corner down the block.

Leaving I saw the pickpocket get on the bus. So my good turn was probably thwarted, not gonna count that one. Likely the guy would find his wallet missing later, not remember the pickpocket but remember me, think I had something to do with it. Sigh.

Should I confront pickpockets? They'd just deny it. I didn't think I could challenge them to empty their pockets in public anyway. And who knows how it would escalate if I did. Have to think more on that.

It was a tragedy, pickpockets on a bus. That was the people who could least afford the loss. Exhausted Moms out shopping with kids at home; tired workmen coming off shift. It was a cruel act, robbing them. They pay for the bus, maybe have no way to pay to get home!

Gave me an idea. The bus depot was the other side of downtown, a converted warehouse near the river. I took the walk.

"Do you sell passes?" I asked the little guy behind the counter.

"Daily, weekly, monthly?" He quoted the prices.

"I'll take ten. Monthly."

He raised his eyebrows, but took my money, handed over the passes. A card, fit in your wallet, color-coded so the driver could tell it was still good I suppose. Anyway they were all blue.

"They're only good for this month!" he warned me. I nodded, thanks.

Back to the bus stop, look for somebody alone without much in their wallet. The tired stance, sore feet, bent back that always came along with overwork.

"Ma'am? Did you drop this?" I offered a blue pass. She shook her head No! bless her heart. So easy to grab it and lie.

"Well, there's nobody else here. Do you want it? It'll just go to waste otherwise."

That was too tempting. She reached out slowly, took it, looked at the label, smiled. A whole month of bus-rides, free! It meant something to her. "Thank you!"

I smiled, shrugged. "Couldn't go to a nicer lady."

Standing straighter already, she put her change back in her wallet, put the card in a transparent sleeve so she could just flash it at the driver.

Three! I'm counting this one. It wasn't my super power, just money, but that came from my scavenging skill so a win anyway.

Have to unload them soon, or they'd expire. If I didn't find enough candidates in the next day or two I'd just spread them around on bus seats, somebody would benefit.

...

Jillian came in the door, confident, happy to be home. "Hello Big Guy! How did it go?"

She wasn't asking about anything in particular; she didn't know what I'd been up to today. But since she asked first,

"I helped three people today!" I detailed my successes, left out the pickpocket incident for now. She was beaming when I finished, came out of her room having stripped and re-dressed for an evening at home.

Coming right up to me she faced me. "Are you ready?"

I grinned, nodded Yes! like a good boy.

The first kiss was quick, sassy, in-and-out "Mmmwuh!" A resounding approval-kiss.

The second took longer, was warmer, pressing lips more gently, then firmer. "Mmmmmhhhh" and a sigh for a finish. Nice.

The third was a doozy. In with parted lips, tongue ready, "Ahhmmmm, lmm, smack," squelching and sucking of tongue and such.

I flushed, I admit I was stiff. Happy and stiff. Took a second to recover.

"What happens when I help four people?"

She laughed, touched my nose. "Try it and see, horndog!" Bit her lip, looked at me fondly, made a decision.

"We're going out Friday. Get your going-clubbing clothes ready!"

This was new. But what did it portend? I didn't argue, just said "Ok."

She'd been wronged by a guy, misused and abused, just before we met. We'd been boyfriend and girlfriend for some time now. So far, love and cuddling and kissing was the sum of it. Still slept in separate bedrooms.

I wasn't arguing; this stuff was nice, she was nice. But to do anything else she'd have to feel right about it; recovered from her traumatic experiences. Then we could make new memories, wash out the hurt, paint over it with positive experiences.

And I'm thinking she might be ready. One step at a time, at her pace.

Still I got excited. I am a horndog it seemed.

...

Over toasted-cheese sandwiches and wine, one of the few suppers I know how to make, we sat on the porch and watched the sailboats coming in. Days were getting shorter, and soon the porch would be too cool to sit out.

"I gave your phone number to some bartenders."

I laughed. "Kind of like a 'call me for a good time' thing?"

She leaned over, whacked me on the shoulder.

"No, for when they find some poor misused, out-of-luck kid. They can't handle them, just send them away. I asked them to call, and I'd deal. Some of them might believe me."

I nodded, thinking. "It only takes one, you follow through, the word will get around. Then they'll all likely trust you."

I could see it; she had been nervous about this, was gratified I was totally on board. It was important; it was important to her. So it was important to me.

She nodded. "It only takes one. Kids like that," and she didn't say 'kids like me, like I was',

"Kids like that make the rounds. They eventually will find the one bartender that trusts me."

"They still have to make the call."

She made a wry face. That was indeed a hitch. Kid's that'd been let down, might not be anxious to sign up for more let-down.

I didn't give it much hope. But she had to try; that was in her nature, to want to help people. Part of why I loved her so much.

...

Jillian

It didn't actually take long. The phone was ringing next evening as I walked in the door.

I kicked off my shoes, made a dash for the phone. Didn't know how many rings I'd already missed.

"Hey! Um. This is Jillian. Hello!"

Quiet on the other end, then a small voice. "Yeah, Trevor gave me your number. Something about a job?"

Trevor was the first guy I'd given my (our) number to. He'd almost thrown it away.

"Yeah! I have jobs, a phone desk, pretty much Bankers Hours. Pay is not great but no obligation either, stay a while or a month, no issue. Training is simple and short."

"Ok. I can do that. What do I do now?"

"Let me come down and meet you, get you settled? Maybe find some lunch, my treat. How's that sound?"

I could actually hear their relief over the phone - a shaky breath, lots of desire in that, probably hungry. Some despair. My heart wrenched.

"That would be great. Where?"

"You like barbecue? There's a Dickie's on my end, uh, the south end of the strip. I can be there in 10 minutes. Tall, blond, sharp dresser. How will I recognize you?"

I didn't actually know if this was a guy or gal or identified some other way. Didn't matter, except for trying to find them.

"Uh, skinny, black hair. Hungry look."

Could make jokes! Good, self-respect not entirely crushed. This was going to be one of the easier ones.

"Let me pee, wash my face, I just got home from work. Then I'll head out. See you in 10!"

They hung up without another word. Not terribly talkative!

The season is ending, clubs are closing, just a couple open for the remaining off-season partiers. Keeps the crowds thick, the energy up. I'd expected maybe having to wait until spring break, the unofficial opening of the irresponsible-young-adult season.