DUM SPIRO, SPERO
Part 75
 

"What fools men are! You work and work for nothing,
you teach ten thousand tasks to one another,
invent, discover everything. One thing only
you do not know; one thing you never hunt for-
a way to teach fools wisdom."

"Hippolytus," Lines 916-920. Translation by David Grene. Used without permission.
 

LANGLY: (later that same day)

"Langly." I'm dreaming that I hear Ally call me and that her hand's on my shoulder.

"Mmm. Come to bed with me."

"Langly, you have to get up. It's time."

"What time's it?" I only went to sleep ten minutes ago.

"After six. We have to be in Silver Springs at 7:30."

Say what? That was like six hours ago I went to bed.

Doesn't feel like enough.

"Don't wanna."

"Oh please, don't be Patrick right now. One four-year-old is enough."

"Where's Patrick?"

"Playing backgammon with Miranda."

"He plays backgammon?"

"She taught him, and so far, no death shrieks. C'mon, honey, up."

"I'm tired."

"Langly, we have to go to Mulder's, remember?"

"But I don't wanna. I'm too tired. 'Sides, what are we gonna do with Patrick?"

"Miranda offered to watch him?"

"Offered? What kind of drugs did you put in her food?"

"She doesn't have plans, and she offered to watch him, and I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. C'mon, babe, move that cute little ass of yours."

"Move it if you come and help me move it."

"LANGLY!"

"Okay, okay, I'm coming. Jesus." Why'd Mulder have to have a birthday party tonight? I feel like shit. Sleeping all afternoon didn't do jack, either. "You gotta brush my hair."

"I'll brush your hair, just give me a minute." She gets my brush out of the bathroom and starts working my hair. This is so soothing I almost pass out again. Maybe I could just go back to bed and she could get in with me, and that'd be cool. "You need a shave, babe. The scruffy effect just doesn't work for you like it does for Michael."

"Doesn't work for him, either."

"Works better on him than you. C'mon, babe. MOVE!"

"Ally, I'm really not in the mood, y'know?"

"I know. But it's Mulder's 40th, we promised we'd be there, and we can always book out early. C'mon. You have to give him hell. It's a moral imperative."

Only imperative I feel right now is sleep. "Y'know, everyone's been on my ass to stay in bed all week, then when I'm really really tired, you want me all to get up. I'm confused."

"Nice try, no cigar. And I'm sure you were much more creative in the excuse department when you were young."

Oh, you have no idea. I even got some teachers to laugh. I considered that a coup, even if they didn't believe me.

Ally finishes my hair and ships me off to the bathroom to do something about my face.

I got to find a way to get in the mood for this.
 

MICHAEL:

"Kel? We gotta get a move on." We've been sleeping all afternoon since I got back from Mitch's. And I could sleep a lot longer. I know Kelly could too.

"I didn't take a shower yet," she whines. She's still pretty under the weather.

"You better get it together then. We gotta leave in 45 minutes."

"Oh hell." She jumps out of bed. "I wish it wasn't tonight."

She's not the only one. I'd like to just lie here till Monday, if not longer. My lungs are starting to hurt, like they did when I had pneumonia, and I'm not in the mood for that.

But it's Mulder's birthday, it's a surprise, and the dude is gonna be 40. We better show our asses up.

And there is one thing you can say for it: at least it's not funky poaching.

I got to get in the mood for this.
 

"I need Miranda to do my hair." Kelly takes a fast shower, and she comes out in her bathrobe. Normally this is like the best thing in the world, and she knows how much I like it, and she always takes it off real slow and I can watch her tits pop out and then her ass and her belly and her legs...

She's not taking it off right now.

"You want me to find her?"

"Please." Kel sounds so tired. I know she doesn't wanna do this.

We'll go, surprise him, and bail out.

Miranda's teaching Patrick how to play backgammon. He's a little better, but for a little kid, he's not bouncing back real fast. He sounds persistently wet in his voice.

"Hey 'Randa. Kelly needs help with her hair. You mind?"

"No." Miranda's like strangely quiet. She looks at Patrick. "Don't touch a thing. I'll know if you moved anything."

"'Randa, you said you'd play wi' me!" He's not happy about this.

"Well, I will. But I have to help Kelly."

"No, don't wanna!"

"C'mere dude, we'll go watch 'em, you can sit with me, okay?" I pick him up and carry him back down with me.

"Wan' play backgammon!"

"In a little while, okay?" Miranda's being fairly patient with him.

"C'mon. You can sit with me." Normally he likes this. He and me are buds.

"'Kay." He's not thrilled, but he goes with it. Little guy sure is still warm. Maybe Kel and me oughta offer to stay with him...

Oh yeah. Like we'd be able to do anything for him. We can barely stay awake ourselves.

"He's still sick, your mom and Langly really gonna take him to the Mulders'?" I ask Miranda.

"No, I'm watching him."

"What, no plans?"

She looks real sad. Really, really bummed. "Not anymore."

"Things are getting bad for you, aren't they?"

"No kidding." She brushes Kelly's hair and takes a curling iron, giving it some waves.

"I hated high school. I felt like nobody liked me. Nobody understood me," Kelly tells her.

"I used to like it. Used to have friends. I used to do things. Not now. It's like I've become-what's the word my mom used-a pariah, I think."

"Oh, that's not true. You have lots of friends," Kelly says to her.

"I used to have lots of friends. Or so I thought. If they were my friends, though, why would they treat me like this?"

Good point. "People are getting weird all over, aren't they?" I say. At least I think they are.

Miranda flashes me a look of death. "Tell me about it. Michael, go in my room and get my Sassoon styling gel."

Princess Miranda does not ask, she demands. But she's not being a real bitch today, so I don't give her shit about it.

And I actually kind of feel sorry for her.

Her room makes mine look neat. Miranda is a total slob. Takes me a while to find the styling gel...

And there it is. Right on the floor, next to her jammies and a shirt and...

A bottle of Ally's good tequila. Half empty.

Miranda?

Oh shit. Her mom's gonna kill her if she finds out about this. Ally doesn't care what you do when you come of age, but underage drinking, she is totally down on that.

I feel dizzy. I feel this way because I've so been there...

I got to talk to that girl.

No, wait a minute, Frohike, she doesn't even like you, for Christ's sake. She's just gonna throw it in your face, like where do you get off?

And she'd be right.

And maybe it's not even hers. Maybe Shelby was drinking it. Not that that's a good thing, but it would get Miranda off the hook here...

Should I say something to her?

I think I'd just piss her off.

But I should, anyway.
 

Miranda's done with Kelly's hair, and Kelly says she's gonna get dressed now. I like this part. Taking off is better, but I'll settle for putting them in.

Except I got to talk to Miranda. I have to. I know I'm gonna piss her off. I know it's not gonna do any good. But I got to say something.

I have so been there, done that. And it's scary.

Granted, nowhere near as appealing as watching Kelly step into her undies, but right now, probably more important.

"Hey 'Randa." I motion my finger to her in a come here gesture.

"What?"

"I gotta talk to you."

"So talk."

"Outside." I close the door behind Kelly, who looks kind of mystified, but just sort of shrugs.

"What do you want?" Miranda's back to being Miranda-brittle, sarcastic, and abrupt.

"Found something near your hair gel."

"Like what? I have lots of stuff in my room."

"I'll say. When'd you start raiding your mom's stash?"

"What're you talking about?"

She's about six inches from my face...and wasted off her ass. You can smell it on her.

"Hey, 'Randa, you gonna play dumb with me, at least use Altoids. You know what I'm talking about. You've been hitting your mom's tequila real good."

"So? It's not like I'm driving."

"Yeah, but you will be. Don't you turn 16 pretty soon?"

"Two weeks, asshole. What of it?"

"'Randa, man, you can't do that!" I'm trying to keep my voice down low. "Your mom's gonna kill you!"

"What she doesn't know, she can't get on my case about." She looks smug.

"Yeah, well, what if I tell her?"

"You wouldn't." She's trying to be tough, but I think she's kind of scared I'd do it.

And you know what? I might.

"Would."

"She'd believe me before she believes you. I don't lie to her."

"Yeah, but you don't tell her the truth all the time, either."

"So? She doesn't need to know everything."

"She needs to know this."

"Like hell she does. She started drinking when she was 13. Her dad gave her first drink, you know that?"

"So, does that make it okay for you to do it?"

"Look, asshole, my life sucks, okay? Don't make it any worse than it is." She looks at me, this real withering look.

With that look, it's a wonder she gets dates at all. I think she scares the hell out of most guys.

"I'm not trying to make it suck worse, I'm trying to help you!" I'm hissing, trying not to yell.

"Yeah? Well, who the hell puked in Shelby's bed, you jerk?"

"That was a long time ago. I don't do that anymore."

"So that gives you the right to tell me what to do? I don't think so, asshole."

"Hey, 'Randa, not trying to tell you how to run your life. I'm saying, I know, 'cause I did it. I was like you."

"You were never like me, Michael. Not ever."

"Oh, more like you than you think, little girl."

"I doubt that."

"No, 'Randa, my life sucked, just like yours, even worse. My mom kicked my ass out. You want yours to do that?"

"She wouldn't."

"Maybe not. But she might make you go to therapy. Or rehab. Or AA."

"My mom wouldn't do that. She's not a bitch."

"Yeah, but you treat her like it."

"I do not! I love my mom!"

"So why do you hurt her like this?"

"Look, she doesn't know, okay? I get my grades. I look after Patrick. I do my chores. What the hell else does she want?"

"I dunno. Maybe for you to be happy?"

She glares at me. "Fat fucking chance."

Well, a lot of good that did.
 

LANGLY:

"Langly honey, can you grab me my black bra?" Ally's calling to me.

"Which one?" She's got three of them.

"The one with the really skinny straps."

Skinny straps...skinny straps...okay, what the hell is skinny straps? Does this mean I got to do a side by side comparison of them all...

I'm pulling them out, when all of a sudden, there's a plastic Ziploc that pops out from under the last black bra...

With Scott's stash in it. Scott's last, and best, gift to me. Next to Patrick, of course.

I've been saving this for a special occasion.

Well, it's Mulder's 40th birthday party.

I think that counts.

"Langly? Did you find my bra?"

"Why don't you just go braless?"

She bursts into the room to find me holding one of Scott's joints in my hand. I'm not sure how she'll react to this.

I look at her, and shrug. "Got a Bic to flick?" 

Ally's got bunches of Bics. The woman is obsessive-compulsive where lighters are concerned. I think she's got like five in her purse, and she's got two on her night table-and she doesn't even smoke in the bedroom most times!

"Langly, you can barely breathe, how are you going to smoke that?"

"Well...you ever done shotguns?"

"Well, duh!" She takes the joint from my hand before I can say anything else, sucks on it and lights it up. "I did get a bachelor's degree, you know!"

"And you think being able to do shotguns is part of the credentialing process?"

"No, but Father Guido Sarducci says being able to roll a perfect pencil joint is part of his five-minute college." She giggles, and me too. I remember the Saturday night live routine.

She lights up, inhales a hefty hit of smoke. "C'mere." She's a little raspy from the smoke. No question about it. Scott left me good shit.

She puts her mouth real light against mine, opens up, and I do the same. She breathes gently into my mouth, giving me a slow hit. It still makes me cough, but not too bad. Not so much that I don't start getting a buzz real fast.

She repeats this process, and it's like, there's something real seductive about the way she does it.

"So how long's it been since you smoked this stuff?" I ask her.

"Hmm...let's see...I'm 46...I'd say about 20 years."

"Haven't lost your touch."

"I'll show you some touch." She places her free hand on my hip, and it's just about to get down and dirty...

And then someone knocks on the door. Goddamn kids. Love 'em, but they're such a nuisance.

"What?" It's probably Patrick, wants some attention.

"Hey asshole." Oh hell. It's Junior.

"Whaddya want, fuckrag?"

"Like can Kelly and me hitch with you guys? My car's not doing too good."

"You're killing my baby, you stupid fuck."

"Look, asshole, I'm keeping it alive, which is more than you ever did, now can we go with you?"

"You planning on leaving early?"

"Like to."

"Fine. Then you can come."

We giggle as they take off.
 

MICHAEL:

"Think we interrupted them?" Kelly grins evilly as we head out into the living room.

"Hope so." Langly wasn't looking real good earlier, but then again, he slept like us all afternoon.

Not that it did me a hell of a lot of good. I'm still so zonked, I'm glad I'm not driving.

We wait in the living room. Miranda's out in the kitchen with Patrick, they're playing Go now. Or rather, Patrick's trying to explain the game to Miranda. Langly taught him to play. And I got to admit, he's pretty good. Even with a nine-stone handicap, I can never beat him. Sounds like Miranda's nuking him dinner.

I just hope she hasn't had any more tequila since we talked, or she's gonna burn the place down.

"So Michael? What was going on between you and Miranda?"

I hold up my hand. "Later, okay?" I keep my voice low and put my finger on my lips to show her she ought to do the same.

Ally and Langly pop out a few minutes later. Ally looks hot like she usually does-no tight black pants tonight, but she's got on a black leotard under this Indian print skirt, and she looks pretty damn good for an old lady. And she's got her hair pulled up in all these curls, which I know Langly likes.

And he looks like-well...

Like he's on drugs.

Well, no shock there. He's been downing codeine for the last few days like it was going out of style.

But he's smiling at least.

"So like you guys ready to take off?" Langly's like this is the funniest idea he's ever had. And Ally giggles too.

What the hell has gotten into these guys?
 

They definitely have a major case of the sillies. They're giggling in the car, like everything is so damn funny.

I'd like to talk to them about Miranda, but somehow I don't think this is the time or place.

And we're halfway to Mulder's, when Langly's like, got to stop for some ice cream.

"We're probably gonna have it there," I tell him.

"No, need some now," and we pull into TCBY for some frozen yogurt. Ally and Langly are both laughing the whole time we order. Ally's like majorly happy because they have nonfat blueberry. I mean, I'm happy they have chocolate, but I'm not like in heaven over it.

These two are either insane or stoned.

Well, we know they're insane.

Kelly leans over to me after she's licking some strawberry yogurt off her spoon. She could make me so hot just doing that.

If I had any energy.

"Michael," she whispers to me. "I think they're drunk."

"No." There's a difference between drunk and stoned...and I think they're stoned.

What I wanna know is just one thing.

Where is it? And are they gonna share?

END OF PART 75