Closet Spaceship Part 17

I sat on a bench, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. I was wearing a coat because even though it was spring, it was also Chicago and there was a definite chill in the air. I was hoping that was only literal, not figurative.

He almost walked right past me. I saw his steps falter, then sort of stumble to a halt, but at first he didn’t look at me. I think he knew he could just keep walking and I wouldn’t say anything.

He sighed before he turned to face me.

“Hi, Sean,” I said.

I don’t know if I would have tried again if Reggie hadn’t asked me to do it. I’ll never know if Sean said something to him or it was his idea, but I told him I’d try.

“Thank you,” I said.

This startled Sean. “For what?”

“For introducing me to them.”

“I didn’t really—I mean, that’s not how …” Sean looked confused and sat down on the far end of the bench where I sat.

“Okay, not on purpose,” I said, “but you were interesting enough for me to stick with you, and I got to meet them because of it.”

“Reg is my friend,” Sean said. “He says you’re okay, but …”

“You should listen to him,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work.

“You should leave him alone,” Sean said.

That surprised me. “Why?”

Sean thought about this for a while. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’d do anything for anyone.”

“I know,” I said.

“So leave him alone. You don’t need to make a spectacle of him.”

“I’m not,” I said. “I have every respect for him, for the whole crew. Don’t you think people need and want to read about people like that?”

“I don’t care,” Sean said. “Leave them alone.”

“So you’re not mad that I wrote about you?” I asked.

Sean scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

Sometimes it seems I don’t know anything. (More often than I want to admit, actually.)

“Uh, well, I was trying to figure it out—” I said.

“After I shut the door in your face,” Sean said. “I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have done it.”

I didn’t know what to say, especially since I agreed with him. “Okay.”

“It’s not about me,” Sean said, “especially since it looks like you stopped writing about me anyway.”

I must have scowled at him because he explained, “I looked them up. Your books, I mean. I didn’t read them, but I read the cover blurbs.”

“You’re not mad I stopped writing about you, though?” I asked.

Sean rolled his eyes. “No. No way.”

“Sean, bad things are going to happen to them,” I said. “That’s the nature of what they do. Do you think if I stop writing about them, those things won’t happen?”

Whoa. If a tree falls and no one hears it …

“I know what they do, what it means,” Sean said, “but … he’s my friend.”

“Oh,” I said as I finally got it.

Sean cares about the crew and respects what they do, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. He knows the dangers involved, maybe better than most people, so he’s a little angry that they put themselves in so much danger. But he can’t be mad at them—

I stood up. “Sean, it’s okay. I understand.”

I took two steps, but then I stopped.

“Do you think we can see each other again?” I asked. “Maybe if I let you throw something at me?”

One side of his mouth twitched a little. It was as close as he could come to a smile at the moment, but I appreciated the effort.

“I don’t know,” he said.

I was trying to be strong, but it stung a little.

“Give me some time,” Sean said.

“Okay,” I said. “Thanks for not refusing outright. And thanks for not telling me how many books there are. I’ll work that out as I go.”

Sean nodded. “Thanks for trying again.”

“I think it’s worth it,” I said.