The Wus were among the last to leave Central, primarily because Lesley was reluctant to go. Whenever the others made noises about departing, he would look at Sensie, and hesitate. But Sensie, finding his continued attention annoying by this time, was pointedly ignoring him.
"Come on, Lesley," said D.J. gently. "I understand how this is tearing you up, but it's over, you told us so yourself. If you can't let her go, you're only letting yourself in for more pain."
"I know, I know," said Lesley, but he still hesitated.
Kythera looked appealingly at her grandmothers, and Lizzie nodded. "Right," she said, "there's more than one way to skin a cat."
POOF!
They were all home in the Backstage Troubleshooters' Office. To the extent that an office could be home, that is.
And now Lesley let the tears flow freely. D.J. led him back to one of the bedrooms, sat him down on the bed, and left him to himself, closing the door gently.
"Thank you," said Kythera to Lizzie. "Losing Mom like that was more than he could bear, I think. It might have been different if we had been able to be a clean break, but continuing to be with her, and knowing she now saw us as complete strangers--"
"Yes," Lizzie agreed, "I can see how that would make it tougher." She tipped her head curiously. "You seem to be able to deal with it a lot better than Lesley is, for some reason."
A note of sadness crept into Kythera's voice. "It's my way," she said. "I've always been rather remote -- incomplete, somehow -- in my emotions. Sometimes I wonder if I truly feel anything."
"If you can wonder that then you do," said D.J. emphatically.
"What will you do now that you're Backstage?" asked Lizzie.
Kythera hesitated. "I truly don't know," she confessed. "I was hoping to spend some time getting to know you two, to learn more about where I came from. And Father has promised to show me the dragon worlds, saying it might help me gain a better sense of who I am. But otherwise, I am aimless, with no ultimate goal or purpose in life. I feel so alien from the passions that appear to animate most people."
"You're pure, granddaughter," D.J. observed. "In this world, it's only to be expected that you wouldn't fit in. I wish I could help, but however much I try to hold myself apart from the insanity around us I'm of this world, and its flaws, I fear, are very much my own."
"You could work with us in the Troubleshooters," said Lizzie. "Enforcing what passes for a moral code here is our job. You might find some fulfillment that way, I know we do."
"I don't know," said Kythera dubiously. "If there were some ideal I could defend, that I could put my heart in."
D.J. made a sour face. "Would that we could give you that. I'm afraid, however, that what we're defending is little more than the status quo."
Suddenly Lizzie brightened. "I know!" she cried. "The Backstage Chapel! She could protect that!"
D.J. snorted. "Like it needs defending," she said. "The darker forces of our world are positively allergic to the place! In this world, it isn't in danger, it is the danger."
"But it's pure," Lizzie persisted. "It's what Kythera needs right now. She's sure as T not going to find that anywhere else in the AddVenture."
D.J. looked between Kythera and Lizzie. Something like interest was kindling in her granddaughter's eyes. She sighed. "Very well," she said. "I'll speak to whoever's got the pulpit up there."
"Great!" said Lizzie, and "Thank you, Grandmother," intoned Kythera, more deliberately.
D.J. glanced in the direction of the room from which Lesley's muffled sobs could still be heard. "Meanwhile," she said, "we can use this time to talk. You said you wanted to get to know us, Kythera. Very well. Ask us anything you would like to know.
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Mon Apr 7 21:24:06 2003
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