The Descendant

It really was a gorgeous day. Aunt Amy had raided the kitchen and packed the lunch before coming up to get me, so we went straight out to the lake. It was pretty to look at, but not much fun to swim in due to the difficulty in getting in the water; there was no nice beach, just squishy mud and some grasses leading up to the water's edge. But the gazebo shaded the sun and gave us a nice place to sit. We distributed food and attacked it before Aunt Amy spoke. "I wanted you to know that I found an apartment in the city," she said.

"Oh." I mumbled, then swallowed. "Wow. Congratulations. Where is it?"

"It's about four blocks from my work," she said. "So that's nice." I nodded. "So I'll be moving out next weekend, that's when it will be available. But I wanted to talk to you about it before I let anybody else know. Things aren't good for you right now, and I don't agree with the way your parents are handling it. I'm not going to go against them, precisely, but I do want to take this opportunity to point out some factors that you might not know about or might not be considering." She took a bite of pasta salad. "One good thing about the Return is the reevaluation of what it means to be an adult, legally. You know that as a sixteen year old, you can operate a pod, you can own real and personal property, you could become emancipated. In two years, you will be considered an adult, with all the legal rights that entails. You will be able to vote, and I would personally urge you to register on your birthday because it's a core right of being a citizen, you can go into a bar and order and drink alcoholic beverages, the whole shebang. For our family, this also means that your share of the family educational trust is open to you and your share of the family general trust will be transferred to you. I bring this up because I didn't know what provisions Dan had made and the family attorneys brought me up to speed when I returned to the fold. I want you to know this so that you realize that your options won't be limited by what your parents want for you. You still have to deal with their opinions and feelings, but legally, you can chart your own course.

"I know you aren't happy with your body unless you're actually dancing and your mother has strong opinions about that, but if you want, at that time, you could see doctors, have your genome evaluated to see if it is possible to develop a more pronounced bust with manipulation of your genome, or if physical sculpting would be the way to go. I am not advocating this, but you should know that you have options. You might still have a late growth spurt, you might become more comfortable with the way you look. But ultimately, it's entirely up to you.

"Second, while it is traditional that Waynes go to Ivy League universities and major in business, the sciences, or engineering, you do you. Study what interests you and what you want to work in. My parents were not terribly supportive when I wasn't thrilled about going to work for Wayne, but I did. They'd be really upset that I've gone into forestry. Fortunately, Mark was really interested in the business, and he's quite gifted in that direction so he was able to take over the company, but I still felt that there were other things I would have preferred to do. So I want to be sure that you understand that you have options. You don't know what you want to do yet, and that's perfectly ok. Take your time and figure things out. There are so many Waynes in your generation that one or several will step up to take over the company."

I blinked at this flood of information, then finished my sandwich. "So... are you not going to be around anymore?"

"I'm not going to vanish," she reassured me. "But since I won't be living here anymore, there will a little less contact. But I still intend to be involved with the family and I hope that we'll continue to develop our relationship. Call me if you want to talk, we can have lunch, do stuff. But I wanted to reassure you that I understand what you're going through and I sympathize. I've had talks with your parents that you haven't been privy to, but I am hoping that I'm getting through to my nephew. I've known Diana for awhile," she said as she took the wrap off some brownies. "I was a little dismayed that Dan married her, to be honest. She's always nice and you can't doubt her devotion to the greater good, but the fact that her lifespan is so long worries me. Things like what you're going through are momentary irritants in her view. She's not unsympathetic to you, but she literally doesn't see things the way you and I do. It's not just a culture gap, it's a lot more than that. A lack of shared experience, of common reference points. You can't really understand her perspective either. And while I don't doubt that she and Dan love each other, a marriage isn't just about the love between the two people. You also have to consider goals and values, each other's families.

"And I have some pieces of advice to offer. Check with your guidance counselor at school this summer, take some aptitude tests. I think you feel directionless right now and it might help if you felt like you had some ideas about what you want to do, what you want to study. And when you get to your new school--great idea, by the way, I think you'll be happier in a school with no bad memories--do the same there. And I had a thought; you may be quitting Scouts, but I know you really liked the badges. So why not make your own? Look around, decide what you'd like to learn about, make your own badges, find people to help you learn. You'll need to be proactive and more tenacious. Things slip people's minds, so if they say they'll talk to you or whatever, follow up. You'll need to do that all your life, from education to jobs, so it's a good habit to get into." I turned that around in my mind, and for the first time since Aunt Amy said she was moving out, smiled. She smiled too. "And now that you've got your own transportation, use it. Be safe, but look around the city for opportunities to do things you're interested in. The good side of having no friends is that you can do whatever you want--see whatever movie looks good to you, shop wherever you want. And don't be so concerned about what other people think about you, in general. Most people don't notice us as much as we think; we're all more self-conscious than others are conscious of us. So go to a restaurant by yourself, go to the movies, whatever. Enjoy what you're doing. Start to take control of your life. Pick up the reins and start directing it in the ways you want it to go. You've got a lot of ability, you just need to develop confidence in yourself and your choices."

"That's a lot to chew over," I said slowly, popping the last corner of my brownie in my mouth.

"It's a big world," she said peacefully. "Those little snots at your old school are just a tiny part of it." I was struck by something, the way she was talking.

"So how long was it really between when you recovered your memories and when you came back here?" I asked. She choked on her brownie and I thumped her back helpfully. Ok, I know that if they can breathe, it's not actually helpful, but I felt responsible.

"How did you figure it out?" she asked once she'd cleared her airway.

"Just the way you were talking. It sounds like you don't really like being a Wayne either."

"I love my family," she said. "But you're right, being a Wayne can suck. People think that the money is enough, that you're not entitled to be hurt or to have problems because of all the money." I nodded. "And it's nice to have. We'll never have to worry about being homeless, for example." She paused a moment. "It's been about six years since I remembered. By then I'd found work that I loved, and I loved the life I'd made for myself. But I also missed my brother and nephew, and after I ascertained that my parents haven't turned up, I finally decided to make myself known again. But I haven't changed my last name, I'm still legally Amy James, which was one of the big last names that they give to amnesiacs. It's nice and neutral ." She looked at me sideways.

"I'm not going to tell anybody," I reassured her. I didn't blame her for not coming back immediately. We each had another brownie in companionable silence. I wanted to share something with her too. "I set up a sewing space in the attic," I volunteered. She looked interested. "I'm going to make some throw pillows. Maybe do more, if I like it, maybe make some clothes." She looked pained.

"Honey, we can go shopping. You don't have to make your own."

"It's not necessarily that I have to, it's just that maybe I'll want to. I've got to wear these stupid uniforms to school, even for summer school, and it doesn't really make sense to get really high end stuff for hanging out. The stuff I get is from good department stores, they're not horrible. I just don't have as much as my friends do, and their parents indulge them more, they're getting designer ready-to-wear. My former friends, anyway. But I'm working in the fabric store now, and I get a great discount, so why not take advantage of that? My allowance will go a lot farther, plus there's my paycheck." I considered this and started to smile. "Plus I could make exactly what I want, not just what's available in stores." She started to smile too. "And now that I've gotten control of my room away from Alan, maybe I'll spruce it up some."

"That does sound interesting," Aunt Amy said, looking interested. "Maybe one of your badges could be interior design. Don't forget that there's all that furniture in the attic if you want to change things up."

"Alan will have a cow if I disturb the order up there," I said, wilting a bit. "And Mom will back him up."

"Alan is the butler," Aunt Amy said crisply. "He knows the family secrets and we depend a lot on him, but don't forget that he doesn't have the final say. You're entitled to use the furniture if you'd like. He's not like Alfred, who really is a member of the family. Alan separates his personal life from his professional life. Let me know if you want to change things up and your mom is giving you static." She got a familiar look on her face, one I often saw on my relatives, that focused, take no prisoners look. For the first time in quite some time, I felt that somebody was on my side. We talked a little more, then packed back up and returned to the house.

The next day I had class at Ms Madelyn's before school, then work. I danced first for Ms Madelyn, who said she thought I could dance in the corps of a ballet company if I wanted, more than that and we'd have to see but that there were three years of work before I'd make that decision. She was more analytical in class than Ms Kerry was, and I felt like I could learn a lot from her. At work, it was a very slow day, and during a period of inactivity I told the senior staff member I was shadowing that I'd found an old sewing machine and was fixing it up. He was excited for me, gave me some tips about sewing pillows, and during another time when we had no customers in the store at all, took me to the home dec floor and we talked about upholstery fabric, what weight and types of fabric made good pillows, how to evaluate the sturdiness of fabrics (for example, some of our velvets had been tested for abrasion and were guaranteed to retain their pile--the fluffiness that characterized the fabric--for a hundred thousand rubs, or double rubs, or half a million rubs). It was a lot to consider, and of course I had hundreds of choices.

At dinner, Aunt Amy told my parents that she'd found an apartment and would be moving over the weekend, thanking them for their hospitality. "And of course I appreciate the opportunity to get to know your daughters," she told Dad.

"It's my pleasure, Aunt Amy," he said sincerely. "I'm just so glad you're back. If you want, take some furniture from the attic, some books. There's plenty to share."

Tuesday I had class at Mr Cal's studio. His assessment of my ability was in line with Ms Madelyn, and his class style was very different. He was demanding and could be difficult, but he put up with exactly zero shit or attitude from the teenagers in his class. One of the boys was from my school and protested my presence. "You will dance with whom I partner you," Mr Cal said evenly. "If you're lucky enough to dance with Lys, you could improve. She's a better dancer than you are. If you don't like it, you are, of course, free to quit." The final 't' was said with emphasis and some disdain. Gary shut up and partnered me in a simple pas de deux silently. That night I told my parents I'd like to take classes at Mr Cal's studio.

Wednesday, I went over to the museum; Dr Hall was waiting for me with Mom. Yay. They took me back to the staff area again where four tables were covered with stuff and their accession cards. Some of it was literally junk, excavated from trash dumps, other things had been found in tombs, or, more accurately, robbed tombs. A couple of pieces of alabaster had a faint glow that Dr Hall speculated might come from what the intact container might have held, ritual oils, perhaps. A spearhead had a stronger glow that was like the blade of the sword Mom had examined, suggesting to me that it had killed some gnarly creature. But that was all, and Dr Hall was taken aback, I think. He looked like he'd expected half the collection to light up like an old-fashioned pinball machine. He took me back to a storeroom where crates were arriving that had been sent by the Cairo museums, a blockbuster exhibit that would travel internationally, showing some of the treasures that had been found. Some of them were uncrated and being prepared for display, including one of the great colossi of Ramesses the Great. I wondered if it was a good likeness, if Dr Hall was glad to see this reminder of his dad, but didn't dare ask. The visage of the statue was enigmatic and from my perspective, was just another chunk of...I read the card. Basalt. But some of the items from Tutankhamun's tomb were almost as bright as my mom.

"Those are canopic jars, each with the visage of a different son of Horus," Dr Hall told me. "They contained the king's stomach, intestines, liver, and lungs. They thought that he'd need them in the afterlife. The heart was left in the mummy because it is the seat of the soul, and in perhaps a mistake, the brain was hooked out through the nose and discarded." I wrinkled my nose. "Exactly." The other item that had god-touch was a gold-handled dagger with a rock crystal pommel and an iron blade. "The iron is from a meteorite and was more precious than gold," he told me. "It was found on the mummy itself." And that was that. Dr Hall could include the three items I'd pointed out from the collection as well as a small selection of null objects as a gift for the pharaoh, not damaging the integrity of the museum's collection, and he thanked me before going back to work. Mom walked me out.

"Have you had lunch yet, dear?" she asked.

"Yeah, before I came," I said, and she smoothed my hair. I couldn't tell if she was disappointed, but I'd learned to eat first. She said she'd see me at home, and I was free for the afternoon. So I did my shopping, getting the items needed for the sewing machine and including a thin box made from archival paper to store the original manual which was printed on paper that had become brittle and fragile. I'd picked up some additional notions at work, including a pin cushion, seam ripper, and measuring tape, as well as a book on home sewing.

I went up to the attic at night, both on my own to clean and fix up the sewing machine--it had needed a new belt as well--and with Aunt Amy to evaluate the furniture. She chose a small table with two chairs and a bed frame. I saw several pieces that I liked better than what I had. I started to think about ways to change my bedroom and checked out some materials from the library about interior design. I started at Mr Cal's on Thursday. Miles was living at home for awhile longer, not being in a rush to establish his independence (or, I suspected, do without Alfred just yet) and he came down frequently as I practiced in his little studio. We talked about my new studio and when he was scheduled to start at American Ballet Company (the first of August), and he partnered me some, partly so he wouldn't fall off his game and partly because he just liked to dance. Saturday I helped Aunt Amy move to her new place, not hard because she had held off acquiring a lot of stuff. It was nice, in an older building that had thick walls and floors, nice big windows, an elevator, amenities like a fitness room and nice commons.

Sunday I dealt with my first customer complaint, a guy who'd bought a fabric labeled as cotton but that had turned out to be very difficult to sew and had blunted his needles. We looked at it, both of us puzzled; it was a tight weave but shouldn't have been so hard to sew. The label on the bolt said that it was just cotton, but I filled out a customer contact evaluation asking if the fabric content was mislabeled, said I was sorry that he'd had so much trouble, and gave him a free pack of sewing machine needles for his trouble, waiting until he'd left before putting the money for the needles in the till myself. But my boss saw, and asked what was going on. She nodded afterward and returned my money. "Five bucks isn't much to keep a good customer happy. He's a tailor, well respected, and shops here a lot. You did a good thing; he feels like we care about his business--which we do." She took the contact evaluation and asked me to show her the fabric; she was also puzzled but took a sample to test it. The next day, there was a new policy posted in the break room, replacing our previous policy allowing staff to handle complaints on their own; now staff were to fill out an evaluation for anything more than a cursory complaint, and where appropriate, the manager would provide a freebie for the customer.