Designated Seer
- The Guide Dog
Sara sat in one of the quieter parts of the nightclub, watching what went on elsewhere. There were the usual types: flashy guys, dumb feckless girls, even the odd normal person, as she thought of herself. She was pretty, almost petite and certainly cute, but didn’t put herself out on display like some thereabouts. She was more a watcher and listener, enjoying being entertained by the antics of others. She brushed aside her shoulder-length ringlets, which cascaded beguilingly around her head but failed miserably in any attempt at hiding her squarish, elongated black plastic-framed glasses, which she then pressed against her face with two fingers. Ahh, glasses, those shiny things that revealed so much of the world, but for her had to be thick - nearly half an inch - in order to help her match everyone else’s eyesight. The increases had slowed quite a lot in the last year or two, but even now in her early twenties, they were quite strong enough at minus 17.5 and 18, with enough astigmatism to make contacts all but useless. Her acceptance of them was usually complete, but sometimes she felt so excluded because of them. She felt she had to pay a high price in looks to see clearly, or else see nowhere near well enough and suffer another way. To her, this was the better way, but it still wasn’t much fun nor fair in her estimation. Her thoughts passed to what she saw, rather than how she saw them: it seemed that the girls out there only had to turn up in order to get interest from men: she’d tried hitting the dance floor herself sometimes, but it seemed she’d only ever had girls to dance with, and they soon got picked up. She felt a little lonely and unwanted, which wasn’t a great feeling when there was a bar not far away.
She heard an ungainly laugh, for her particularly recognizable. Unnecessarily, she turned to look: it was one of her friends, insofar as they could be called that, getting into some unsuspecting man. This one was Julia, tall, slim and blonde haired. The other one, Rosa, sat at a table further over, obviously a bit drunk, excitable even without, medium height and raven-haired, preying on a couple more. Sara sighed, thinking that some girls had all the luck. Or did they? She could see much better than they did with her glasses, and didn’t have any hangups about them either. Or maybe it was that she couldn’t see well enough to have hangups about them. Rosa squinted at Sara, and said, ‘that you Sara?’ She waved Sara over, clapping her hands and saying, with cringeworthy volume, ‘hey guys, this is Sara… she’s me and Julia’s bestest friend ever… she takes such really good care of us…’ She didn’t mention exactly what they depended on her for: she was the eyes of their little gang, making sure they got to where they were meant to go, faithfully describing men in the distance - whilst trying to hide her feelings that she’d never ever attract someone like that - and making sure the two drunks got home again in one piece. Small thanks she got for it, too: it didn’t seem quite like friendship, but she thought it was the best she could get.
They waved at her: she smiled and said quietly, ‘hello,’ and was pretty much ignored after that. As she walked back, she heard one of them say, ‘ohh, she looks so booooring!’ ‘she’s a librarian girl, with glasses like that! Too much reading books does that…!’ She tried to ignore the laughter, and to a large extent, did just that: she was well used to this sort of nonsense when Rosa and Julia were around. She went back to the bar and got herself another drink: at least the barflies didn’t make fun of her. They just ignored her, for whatever reason, but she suspected it was because they didn’t want a girl wearing such thick glasses around them. If she wasn’t so kind hearted and public spirited, she’d consider going to the local library instead of a night club. Although, there were more interesting men to look at here: alas, looking was as far as she ever got.
Some time later Julia and Rosa found Sara: as so often, the loud, cringe-inducing Rosa crying out ‘Sara! Sara! Have you seen that slut Julia?’ Julia, wobbly from drinking, replied in her usual seductive manner, ’oh, Rosa, you stupid blind bitch, she’s over there…’ Julia squinted, and concluded, ‘I think!’ Both of them laughed uproariously, then wobbled over to where their friend Sara stood waiting for them. She said patiently, ‘well, are you two done yet?’ Rosa put her hands on her hips, and wagged her finger at Sara, saying mockingly, ‘oh, are we done yet? Oh, please, don’t tell us off! We’re good girls really!’ Sara watched her friends wobble over to her, squinting and giggling. She shook her head, amused by their antics, then told them both, ‘well, how do you want to go home? I think the subground is still running, or else we can go by bus?’ The two of them stopped, then looked at each other: Rosa shrugged, then they both burst out into fits of giggles.
Sara decided for them, saying sharply, ‘OK, it’s the subground. Come on then, follow me.’ She walked off, leaving the two drunks to follow her. Julia whispered in Rosa’s ear: more giggles followed, but then something resembling sanity came upon them, being as their two-legged guide dog was getting out of sight. And this wasn’t so hard, being as they each had about 3 dioptres of uncorrected myopia each, enough to make navigation awkward whilst sober; which these two certainly weren’t. Steadily she guided them home, or at least near enough that these two inebriates could get home without further guidance from the long-suffering Sara.
Julia stopped and looked down at Sara. She said, ‘awww, thanks for helping us, we really appreciate what you do for us.’ Rosa chimed in, ‘yeah, Sara, dearie, I don’t know what we’d do without you!’ Sara was very tempted to say “wear your glasses?” She quietly and patiently told them both it was all okay. They both gave her a hug and told her how fantastic she was. Then Rosa asked her, ‘when can we do this again? We’ll pay for everything, don’t worry about that, Sara dearie.’ Sarah nodded and told them it was ok, they could ring her when they were free: she thought perhaps she might get lucky next time.
There was more giggling as the two of them walked off. Sara heard Rosa tell Julia, ‘I got three numbers, how many did you get?’ ‘Four!’ Julia stuck her tongue out at her. There was more giggling, then a little cry as Rosa shoved Julia into a bush. Sara turned for home, her job done for the evening; just in time to catch the bus for her home. As she walked to the bus stop, she wondered sadly what it was like to get a phone number from a boy. Or even attention, for that matter. Then she looked into the distance, and upon seeing the bus coming, was to an extent reassured by her ability to read the number. Was that worth the trouble? She sighed, unwilling to consider the matter further.
- Finding
Ironically enough, a few days later Sara was at the local library, looking for books, any books really, but in particular those relating to social science and psychology: she’d started off simply observing Julia and Rosa, but had subsequently become friends, after a fashion. She found a certain book about the subject and sat down at one of the communal desks. Quite soon someone else appeared in her orbit: she looked up and saw that it was an attractive young lad, about her age. He smiled at her, meeting and holding her gaze pleasingly. He then asked, ‘do you… mind if I sit here?’ Sara nodded, trying to ignore the nervous butterflies in her stomach: it was unusual for her to get any attention, let alone the swarm of it such as her friends had. Anything was warmly welcomed, and thus she did. She noticed his furtive glances while he sat opposite her, and later favoured him with a big smile as he left.
The same day the following week Sara waited at the same table, ostensibly reading, hoping he would appear. Goodness only knew what she would do if he did: probably just sit and hope something nice would thus happen. How often she dreamed of a handsome, wonderful boyfriend to love her so much… but today nothing happened, there was no handsome boy to approach her, ask her for her phone number, ask her out, love her for what she was: those things never happened to her. She momentarily pulled down her glasses, looking into the distorted, miserably useless blur she saw thus bereft of correction, thinking of Julia and Rosa. For a moment she wished she possessed vision along the lines of her ridiculous friends, or better still, able to see perfectly without glasses. She quickly squashed that thought: she didn’t really want to be them. She pushed her glasses back into place, restoring her visual capabilities to that which she was well accustomed. She could see, but at a high price.
Despite her patience, there was no sign of him. She gathered her various accoutrements which she’d brought along, then rose and walked towards the exit, past several shelves containing all sorts of tomes on various subjects. And who did she see reading a book on some unlikely subject behind one of those shelves? None other than the handsome boy she’d been waiting for so patiently. She stopped and walked carefully toward him; he glanced up at her, apparently unaware of her presence, let alone interest. Meeting his gaze with guarded hope, she smiled and said, ‘hello,’ then, taking hold of her modest confidence as best she was able, asked him, ‘what brings you here?’ ‘Oh… you… youth fiction.’ For a moment that puzzled her, but she was intelligent enough to realise what might be going on. Hope spurred her on. She told him, ‘you’re in the wrong section. That’s a chemistry book.’ There was an awkward silence. She again smiled, recognizing his awkward timidity: admittedly her feelings weren’t much better. She stood hoping he would ask her out. There was more uncomfortable silence. He looked down at the book, turning slightly away from her. Her shoulders slumped a little in disappointment: it seemed as if today wasn’t her day. Just like every other day. She started off toward the door, unaware of his renewed interest.
Sara had long found her attempts to attract the opposite sex frustrating and confusing: some of them would talk, but that was all, others seemed genuinely interested, but she couldn’t get through to them, and of course a lot of them simply ignored her. She spent some time wondering if it was worth another attempt in the library with that good-looking but perplexing boy, or whether to move on. But the merest taste of attention was as a banquet to her, so she decided to try once more: it was that or go back to being the guide dog. So a week later, she dressed herself in her most appealing clothes, then considered that perhaps they weren’t appealing enough, or were they too appealing? It was no good tying herself in knots over the issue, she told herself: either he liked it or not. For a moment her mind filled with the same thought in relation to her glasses, but for her the necessity of seeing overrode all other considerations, even when boyfriends were concerned. Similarly, either he liked them or not. She consoled herself with the uncertain reasoning that he’d not run from her in screaming dismay, therefore they didn’t quite repel him. With hope and luck they didn’t, anyway. With that, she went back to the library, endeavouring to balance her hopes and fears.
She walked toward to library, the building and doorway being in sight from some considerable distance away. She saw a familiar figure pacing anxiously around nearby: it was the boy! She paused, watching him walk away: had he seen her? She didn’t think so. Or, at least, she hoped not. Could he be waiting for her? Or someone else? She was very much perplexed, so slowly walked towards the library with earnestly clenched hope. She saw him stop, staring at the ground, then he slowly turned and walked back to the doorway, and leant against the side of the porchway with something that resembled nonchalance. She began walking towards him: there was no point vacillating, either he ran a mile or he didn’t, every step bringing her closer to knowing the answer.
After a minute, she knew that he saw her approaching; she drew closer, with each stride hoping he wouldn’t bolt, hoping that her tight top and short skirt would help solicit a favourable response. And then she was near enough to meet his eyes, see his uncertain smile as she dawdled to a halt in front of him. She gave him a proper smile, and said cheerfully, ‘hello again. Erm… what’s happening?’ ‘oh… just enjoying the sunshine.’ Sara hesitated for just a splintered second, then observed ‘I usually sit down when I do that. Ummm… would you like to sit down over there with me? My legs are tired.’ ‘Yeah, OK.’ He pared himself away from the library, and they walked in silence the short distance to the wooden seat she’d indicated.
Once ensconced on the bench, she sat looking around. She commented, ‘it’s a lovely day, isn’t it?’ ‘Yeah… yes it is.’ She spared a glance at him, not quite knowing what to do or say next. He met her gaze, coughed gently, then said, ‘there’s a lot to see here. Very interesting.’ ‘I suppose so.’ ‘I like to look at things.’ ‘Well, so do I, I suppose. Although, I need some help with that.’ There was a tiny pause, then she saw him gather himself a little, and he told her with a faint waver to his voice, ‘you’re pretty.’ Sara’s mouth dropped just a tiny fraction; she smiled gloriously, then gave a quiet but firm, ‘thank you, you’ve very kind.’ There was another brief, awkward silence, before she reached into her bag for pen and paper. He watched her carefully writing numbers, then she handed the paper to him, saying, ‘here’s my phone number, if you want… we can meet up sometime…’ He nodded, and told her, ‘yeah, that would be good.’ With that, Sara said goodbye, got up and walked off, her steps bouncing with glee, her thoughts suffused with delight.
- Meeting Up
Three weeks passed, during which Sara and her new boyfriend Steve began to get to know each other, at least beyond finding each other physically attractive. On the Friday, it was time for them to meet up and go out with her friends Rosa and Julia. By now some of his awkward shyness had dissolved, leaving something akin to confidence, at least when she was around. She loved the way she could hold his attention just by looking at him. She told him as they got off the bus and went to find her friends, ‘don’t worry, they’re harmless enough. Ahh, there they are.’ He saw them standing around by a gate, looking a little bemused, then chatting idly. There was some laughter. Sara called out to them, ‘hey, you two, here I am!’ They both turned to look at Sara, surprise on their faces. They were used to Sara being shy and reticent: she seldom called out like that to them, unless they were hopelessly lost and needed some guidance from afar.
He watched the two young women squinting a little at him as they walked to meet them: they were certainly not unattractive, but there was something missing. Something he thought very interesting, very attractive even: glasses. In that sense, they couldn’t compete with Sara in his view, despite their long legs and curvaceous bodies, amply enhanced by suitable clothing. But there was more: he watched them look at him, at first mystified, then with more conviction. Evidently Sara’s friends were hiding something. They bubbled and frothed as they greeted Sara and especially him, babbling thus: ‘ahh, this is your little surprise, then?’ ‘Oooh… he’s gorgeous!’ ‘You’re a lucky girl, aren’t you, Sara!’ ‘Come on then, let’s go, fun times beckon!’
The two girls trawled along behind them as they walked to the nearest train station. Along the way, Steve swore he could hear the words “I saw him first!” being whispered behind him. He didn’t hear the rest of their muttered conversation: ‘but I want him! He’s sooo handsome!’ ‘however did our little geeky friend catch him? Give him a real woman like me, he’ll turn his head.” Julia glared at Rosa, hints of anger on her face, and hissed, ‘he’s mine. Give me ten minutes with him and he’ll forget all about her.’ ‘five minutes if it’s me.’ ‘Well, you’re a slut, so that’s no surprise!’ Julia got an elbow in the ribs for that remark, just as they stopped on the platform and began waiting for their train to arrive. Sara turned and called out to them, just as Rosa whacked Julia with her handbag, ‘you two, calm down. There’s a train in five minutes.’
Steve turned to look at them. The two women were standing there with flushed faces, glaring at each other, as if quite prepared to beat the crap out of each other at a moment’s notice. The tall blonde one, Julia he thought her name was, stared into the distance at the electronic sign showing departures and times, her visage blank. He heard Rosa mutter to her, ‘don’t put them on. He’ll realise. Don’t do it. Sara’s with us, she can do this for us. Anyway, he’s too handsome to really care about gl…’ A passing train drowned out the rest. Despite that, he was starting to realise what was going on. He turned to Sara and whispered in her ear, ‘those friends of yours are such idiots!’ Sara chuckled, and replied, ‘you noticed that? Well, that’s hard to miss.’ ‘Why on earth do you put up with them?’ ‘Oh, they’re kinda fun… sort of entertaining. And they pay for everything.’ ‘hmmm.’ ‘What?’ ‘You know they’re short sighted, don’t you?’ Sara stared at him, openly astonished. She asked, ‘how… is it that obvious?’ At that, their train arrived, they got on, and all questions relating to vision were forgotten.
Once at the nightclub, Julia and Rosa soon moved off in pursuit of their usual prey: some unfortunate, unsuspecting members of the male species, leaving Sara and Steve to enjoy their own company, dancing and sitting, watching and talking. They didn’t realise they were being observed by the two witches with what vision they possessed. They’d fought an argumentative game of “scissors, paper, stone” in order to ascertain who’d get the first go with Steve: it turned out to be Julia. As soon as Sara disappeared for the toilet, she pounced on him. She sidled up to him provocatively, making sure he saw her, using what she had to absolute best effect as she sat beside him. She murmured into his ear, ‘ahh, darling, I know you think you’ve found a nice girl, but how about a naughty one? I can give you a really good time… Sara, she doesn’t know how to please a real man.’ He looked at her, his face stonily impassive. She continued, ‘go on, you know you want me. Touch me, hold me… I’ve been waiting for you a long time, darling.’ He stared into her blue eyes, hesitated for just a moment, then told her, ‘naw, I don’t think so. I want Sara. Not you.’ Julia recoiled as if slapped, then sat blinking at him. Befuddled, she asked, ‘pardon?’ ‘I don’t want you. Leave me in peace.’ Julia stuck out her bustline at him, pouting. He repeated, ‘leave me alone! Sara has something I really like, which you don’t have. Get lost!’ Julia gave him a bitterly hurt, confused look, got up, then walked shakily over to her friend Rosa, who was still surrounded by men.
Rosa listened to Julia’s befuddled report as to what had occurred just as Sara returned. She was a little shocked, but then told Julia she’d botched her seduction of him, which caused another childishly pointless argument. Rosa then told her triumphantly, ‘well, it’s my turn now. I’ll leave you and little Miss Speccy Face trailing in my wake! Watch how it’s done!’ Julia glared at Rosa angrily, who then asked one of her male friends to cause a distraction. This he readily did, by means of going up to someone else dancing on the floor and punching them. The two girls watched Sara and Steve crane their necks to watch, then get up so as to better see what transpired: there was soon quite a commotion on the floor, causing the two of them to become separated. Steve felt someone - someone definitely female - press herself against his back and arm, then heard a sultry voice cooing softly into his ear, saying, ‘oh, you’re such a handsome man, I love you rugged types, all masterful but gentle. Will you come to bed with me? My legs are always open for you…’ Rosa saw him turn, but didn’t expect the disgusted look on his face. He spat at her, ‘will you bitches leave me alone? I’m not interested in either of you. Sara is my girlfriend, she’s much more shor… oh, you wouldn’t understand.’ Rosa glared knives at him, for a moment wiggling herself at him with sensuous grace… then ground out, ‘you don’t know what you’re missing.’ ‘I’m missing nothing.’ With that Rosa turned and angrily stomped away.
Moments later Sara found him and asked what was going on: she hadn’t noticed Rosa, but could see his face. She asked, ‘what’s up?’ ‘oh, this is stupid. Let’s sit down and let the bouncers sort them out.’ And so they did.
Meanwhile, Julia and Rosa sat glaring at them, shooed off their male company, and turned to plotting. They spoke along the lines of, ‘what the fuck is up with him? Why doesn’t he want me… us?’ ‘I know, we’re tons better looking than Sara, we don’t wear glasses, we are much more fun… he must be really boring… or gay?’ ‘Yeah, or blind.’ ‘You’re the blind one.’ ‘No, Sara is. She wears the thick glasses.’ ‘So what do we do?’ ‘What do you think? If he stays with her, we’ll lose our eyes.’ ‘I’m not coming out wearing my glasses. The guys will run a mile. What are we going to do about him?’ ‘Get rid of him. Sara will get over it. She’s that sort of person.’ ‘How?’ ‘Tell him she’s a lesbo?’ ‘ha ha ha… oh, that might work.’ ‘Let’s do it then!’
Quickly Rosa scribbled a note and folded it, writing on the front “To Steve - Please Read!” Some more time passed, then the nightclub announced it was closing in 10 minutes, so they all left. Sara didn’t notice the barbed looks between Steve and their two “friends”. And he didn’t notice Julia push the note into his jacket pocket. As usual, Sara dutifully guided them home, ignoring their conspiratorial muttering. Then she let Steve take her home by bus. There was a certain amount of kissing on the way home: during a break from that, she said to him, ‘you know, they didn’t seem quite the same tonight. Perhaps it was because of you, maybe they didn’t want to embarrass me.’ ‘Oh, they’re just… how they are. But perhaps we’ll leave them at home next time?’ Sara nodded, ‘yeah, perhaps we will. They’ll have to find another guide.’ He gave her a meaningful look, which Sara took to be agreement. She kissed him, and said goodbye. He promised to ring her.
- Searching for the Truth
Some days passed: Sara found that he didn’t ring her as promised. At first, she made excuses on his behalf, for instance that he was busy or else that he’d forgotten. Or else he had found someone else? Sara shivered at that, and did her best to carry on as normal. But some more days passed, with her becoming ever more anxious about the situation in the meantime. Was it best to ring, or wait? She decided to wait, using general busyness to keep her mind off the subject insofar as that was possible. But then the inevitable happened: she was obliged to go to the library. She sat at one of the communal desks therein, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. But it was no good, her thoughts wandered to Steve.
Then she looked up, and there he was, browsing. She watched him: it hurt that he didn’t seem aware of her. What had happened? He then saw her, meeting her bespectacled gaze: she gave a timid, hopeful smile; he shrugged, his face blank. Sara died a little inside. He turned away from her, fidgeted, then pulled something out of his pocket: a piece of paper. He unfolded it, read it, scowled, then refolded it and returned it to his pocket, and walked away. Sara grabbed her books, stuffed them in her bag and got up: she was almost ready to leave. But, that piece of paper intrigued her, so she decided to try once more. After a moment’s hesitation, she squared her shoulders and forced herself to find him, with the firm intention of confronting him: she needed to know what was going on, and the only way she could possibly find out was to ask.
So, she watched and waited, observing his actions discreetly with as much patience as she could possibly muster. Presently he wandered down between a gap between two bookcases that had no egress possible, other than squeezing through a small open window at the end, or else jostling rudely past someone if they happened to be in the way. Sara made herself that someone: briefly she paused at the open end, then slowly walked toward him. He looked up at her, then back at the books. She stopped, and slipped her glasses from her face. Instantly the world, including him and his face, melted into a misty, featureless smear: she would scarcely be certain he was standing there if she hadn’t already checked by means of her usual correction. Calmly she announced, ‘well, here I am. Shall we pretend I don’t need glasses, that I’m not really short sighted? Then perhaps you’ll still be into me.’ She struggled to keep bitterness from her voice. She saw him move: thinking he was about to push past her, she did her best to fill the gap between the bookshelves. But that didn’t happen: instead she heard the indistinct lump called Steve say to her, ‘oh… please, put your glasses back on. You look much better with them on.’ Sara needed little encouragement to return her vision to its normal, sharply corrected state: in doing so, the import of that comment was lost in her generally discomposed state of mind. She eyed him for moment, meeting his gaze, curious.
Then after a pause, she asked, ‘well, aren’t you going to tell me what the problem is? Am I too fat, too short? Are my tits not big enough, am I too boring, or you just don’t like my taste in music?’ He stared at her in silence whilst she continued to rattle off a list of many possible reasons a boy could find fault in her, with steadily diminishing plausibility. Then she stuttered to a halt. There was an awkward silence. Then she pleaded, ‘please tell me. I probably can’t do anything about it, but just for my sanity’s sake, please?’ He reached into his pocket, pulled out the scrap of folded paper and solemnly handed it to her. Sara opened it. It read thus: “Dear Steve, you need to know Sara is a LESBIAN. Don’t waste your time with her. Regards, a friend.” Upon reading it again, she loudly and angrily expostulated, ‘what! You think that’s true? Who wrote this? I’m SO not a lesbian!’ That got both of them attention: a librarian told them to pipe down or leave. Sara beckoned to him, saying, ‘lets go outside, we can talk… if you’ll talk.’ He nodded.
Once outside, they sat on the same bench where they’d first talked a few weeks previously, whereupon Sara began to suspect something of what had transpired: the thought of it hurt and angered her. She told him firmly ‘I am NOT a lesbian. That’s complete crap, someone lied to you. I want you so much! You are so kind to me, you tell me things I’ve never heard from a boy before…’ He smiled gently, warming to her once again, his feelings encouraged by her appearance, especially her alluringly bespectacled gaze. He told her, ‘I meant every word. And… I didn’t want to believe you really were a lesbian. I just… didn’t want… to be let down. I had… have such high hopes about you… about us.’ That seemed to soothe her anxieties quite considerably. She glared at the note, then looked back at him, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She asked, musingly, ‘when did you find this?’ ‘Erm, I found it in my coat pocket… after we last went out… with your friends.’ The implication of that wasn’t lost on Sara. She hissed angrily, ‘those two bitches, they did this! But why? I don’t understand. I know they are crazy and stupid, they treat men like… well you can guess. But this? I don’t understand at all.’ She stared deep into his gaze. Then she began to guess. As gently as she could under the circumstances, she asked, ‘they did something to you. Please, tell me what they did? I mean apart from lying to you and nearly making us break up?’
After a moment’s further reflection, she began to realise the answer. She continued, ‘let me guess: they tried to seduce you.’ He nodded, and murmured, ‘sorry. I’m really sorry.’ Gently she put her hand on his, looking into his eyes, and told him, ‘you don’t need to be sorry, it’s not your fault you’re a hottie. But…’ Her eyes opened in surprise and considerable pleasure as she realised, then murmured, ‘you turned them down.’ She gave a delighted laugh, clapped her hands, then repeated herself more loudly, ‘you actually turned them down!!! Oh boy, don’t they just deserve that!! That’s hilarious!!’ She chuckled to herself for some moments, then looked slyly at Steve, and asked another puzzled question, ‘but, if you don’t mind my asking, why did you turn them down? They’re perfectly good-looking women, and although they’re complete sluts, you didn’t go for them. That says a lot about you!’ She gave a meltingly delighted sigh of pleasure, then said excitedly ‘I really love you for that! Oh, me with my thick glasses, and those two idiots who refused to wear theirs, and you pick ME…?’
Sara stopped as something began to click inside her head. What she’d just said combined with what she’d heard, but not fully absorbed back in the library. She gave a little gasp of astonishment, putting her hands to her mouth, looking into the distance, wondering if what she now suspected was the truth. As before, there was only one way to find out. She again looked at him, and asked quietly, ‘you know in the Library just before you showed me that note?’ ‘yeah.’ He gave a tiny smile. She probed further, ‘when you told me - I think you told me - I looked better with glasses on? What did you mean by that?’ Haltingly, he answered, ‘erm… I think… you look pretty in glasses. I love… they… you… look so lovely wearing them.’ Her eyes widened as she took in his words and their import. There was silence. He asked nervously, ‘did I say something wrong?’ She slowly shook her head, and muttered, ‘no, no, it’s fine. It’s just that all this time, I’ve been stuck with these, thinking nobody would want a girl with thick glasses, and then you, Mr Wonderful, you come into my life and turn it all upside down!’ She grabbed his head and kissed him. After some time in tight embrace, gazing longingly into each other’s eyes, they released each other, and their thoughts and words then fell to the question of what to do about Julia and Rosa.
- The Lesson
A couple of weeks later Sara agreed to go out with Julia and Rosa again on the Saturday evening. Upon questioning her about Steve, she told them, ‘um, well, we decided not to pursue things between us.’ Julia gave her a hug, consoling her. Rosa put her hands on her hips and said sharply, ‘he dumped you, didn’t he?’ Sara gave a little histrionic sob, and admitted it, saying, ‘yeah, he was so mean, he said couldn’t go out with someone like me.’ Rosa couldn’t make out Sara’s expression: her voice was convincing enough for someone thus shortsighted. She said soothingly, ‘ahh, never mind, let’s go and have some fun. Maybe we can find you a proper boyfriend. Or whatever.’ Julia chuckled at that remark. Sara’s little smile was lost in their respective fuzzy gazes.
The evening moved on as normal: Sara’s shortsighted “friends” had a wild time, getting very much merry and pickled, and also gaining attention from men that Sara now knew were utterly worthless. She smirked at their vanity, their foolishness, their childish and selfish behaviour. Without the slightest doubt, she could see why Steve had rejected them. Although, she actually almost felt pity for them: if only they knew what it was like to have a boy - a man - who wanted them, not despite their flaws, but because of them? Perhaps they would never quite grasp that. But Sara, with her decency and kindness, and also her newfound knowledge of certain aspects of humankind - she felt they needed a little lesson. And she would gladly help deliver such, being as she’d helped them before in the past.
The evening was eventually over, and so Sara gathered her two charges together at the door and led them to the subground as usual. Rosa stopped to puke on the pavement, then Julia slipped in it and fell ungracefully. Sara helped her up, and gave Rosa a tissue to clean herself up. Drunkenly she thanked Sara, saying, ‘oww, you’re so kind to us, we’ll have to do something for you someday… maybe we could find you a boyfriend?’ Julia tittered merrily, and interjected loudly, ‘better than the last one!’ The two ugly sisters then fell to bickering and bantering about who was the best at finding a man, then whispering loudly their opinions on the sort of boyfriend that would be suitable for Sara. She’d always ignored that: until recently being as she felt nobody would want her, and now, because she had someone who considered her to be perfect and thus didn’t need their help. She couldn’t quite stop herself smiling.
She led them into the station, and then pointed them down a particular corridor that ostensibly led to the platform they required, whilst saying, ‘carry on, I’ll be with you in a minute: I just need the loo,’ relying on their usual state of intoxication and uncorrected myopia to prevent them realising that they were going the wrong way. During her feigned occupation of the toilet facility, she heard an expected shuddering, grinding sound, followed by hurried footsteps and subsequent loud cries of dismay. She went to look at the scene.
A collapsible barrier now extended across the mouth of the corridor she’d directed them down, blocking the exit. Against this Julia and Rosa pulled and shoved, whilst crying out for help, firstly from Sara, then anyone who might have happened by. Sara strolled toward them, then stopped to admire the scene. The two harpies rattled at their cage, then fell silent as she approached. Julia complained, ‘hey, Sara, you sent us the wrong way!’ ‘Yeah, you’re so stupid!’ Sara laughed at them, and replied, ‘oh, you’re the stupid ones. You’re the ones who thought you could lie to Steve about me.’ Julia bit her lip, then pointed at Rosa, saying, ‘it was her idea!’ ‘And she snuck the note into his pocket!’ ‘She put me up to it! Honest!’ ‘You lying whore!’ Rosa shoved Julia, at which Sara cried out, ‘enough! I said, enough!’ The two quickly ceased their altercation, then both grabbed at the barrier with their hands, glaring at Sara.
Sara crossed her arms, sighed, then said, ‘well, you’ve brought this on yourselves, haven’t you?’ There was guilty silence from the both of them. Sara continued, ‘you tried to steal the wrong guy, you lied to the wrong guy. Do you know why?’ They looked blankly at her. She answered her own query, ‘because he likes girls with glasses!’ They looked utterly flabbergasted. Sara smiled; at that, Steve walked into view, saying, ‘yes, glasses! The thicker the better!’ Sara glanced at him, then looked back at her two prisoners. Rosa cried out, ‘so what? You’ve got a weird boyfriend? Well, fuck you… and him…’ ‘Yeah, fuck you two!’ Sara chuckled, and replied, ‘Weird he might be, but he’s MY weird boyfriend. He’s never going to go out with you.’ Again the banshees fell into chastened silence.
Then Julia began pleading, saying ‘Sara, we’re really sorry… really sorry… really really sorry…’ Rosa joined in, ‘yeah, we’re so sorry, we want you to be our friend… we love you so much!’ ‘Please… let us out… please, you’re so kind to us… please, please… we won’t do it again… promise!’ Steve asked them, ‘is that only because you depend on her kindness? To make up for you not wanting to wear your glasses?’ They stared at him in silence.
Then, almost as one, they began to root around in their handbags. First one, then the other produced a glasses case, opened it and put on a pair of glasses. Julia stared at him, wiggled seductively and said, ‘see, I can wear glasses too!’ He folded his arms, and told her, ‘too late. And much too weak.’ Sara laughed. Rosa, now wearing glasses, said, ‘whatever. The Station Guard will let us out of here sooner or later.’ Sara told her, ‘well, if you could have seen clearly on the way in, you could have seen the opening times on the noticeboard: you’d know he doesn’t work Sundays.’ Julia gave a little moan of dismay. Rosa asked her impatiently, ‘what now?’ ‘I need the loo.’ She rolled her eyes. Sara commented, ‘either we let you out, or else you can run down to the platform and pee on the tracks. Try not to do it on the third rail: it might give you a little tickle somewhere sensitive.’ Rosa hissed angrily.
Julia crouched down, and began to beg, ‘please, please, let me out. I need the loo.’ ‘and if I do let you out?’ ‘I promise to be good. I promise to do anything you want.’ ‘you’re sure?’ ‘yes, yes, please, yes!’ She turned to Rosa, and asked, ‘how about you?’ Rosa sighed, and admitted defeat, saying, ‘yeah, ok.’ ‘pardon? I didn’t hear you.’ ‘I said, OK. I promise to do whatever you want. And… er… it was my idea about the note. I’m sorry I did that.’
Sara nodded. Steve walked over to the lever that would open the barrier. Julia whined, and moaned, then said pleadingly, ‘ohh, hurry up!’ Sara held up her hand, and said, ‘I haven’t told you what I want you to do yet.’ Rosa asked, ‘so tell us, then.’ ‘whenever you come out with us - and despite everything, you are still welcome - you must wear your glasses. I’m not guiding you around anymore.’ Rosa gagged, then retorted, ‘no way… no, no way.’ Julia groaned piteously, then said, ‘yeah, yeah, go on Rosa, say yes… I want the loo. Sara, I don’t mind wearing my glasses! Please let me out. Please, pretty please!’ Sara met Rosa’s eyes. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She sighed, nodded and said, ‘OK. Agreed. Just let us out. It’s draughty down here.’ Sara nodded to Steve, who obligingly pulled the lever, thus causing the barrier to retract, screeching as it did so. Julia pushed past Rosa and dashed for the loo. Sara walked up to Rosa. She said, ‘we can still be friends. But what you did - that’s not what real friends do to each other.’ Rosa nodded glumly. They waited in silence until Julia had relieved herself, then all of them wandered in silence down the correct corridor to the platform, caught the train and without further ado went home.
Epilogue
A few weeks later, the four of them went out again. This time, Julia and Rosa wore their glasses just as they’d promised: thus they required no guidance at all from Sara, which left her free to beguile Steve with her marvellously attractive corrected gaze, and otherwise generally enjoy herself. After some grumbling and confusion, the wicked witches soon discovered that they attracted plenty of attention from men, although these were not the same type of men as they’d met previously: they had just as good a time as before, despite the changed circumstances. Afterwards, Rosa came up to Sara and said to her, ‘you know, I could get used to this. Tell me, how do I get glasses as thick as yours?’