Stacey Levine - Dra-

She shook Marla. “Wake up! I don’t like sleeping people. Sleep is a barrier between folks and for what reason? None. Why should I have imaginary conversations with you when you could just as easily be awake, talking to me?”

She took another candy, looking at Marla’s closed eyelids, small and scaly-red. “Do you know what I think? I think the best part of life is merging with others. Oh, some think it’s bad, but then, they don’t really know how to do it correctly! I think deep down, we all want to merge. Two merging into one is perfection; I would defend that idea to my death, and I don’t even know why! Let me tell you: I love the beginnings of merging, when clients start to grow attached to me. Trust is planted then, and I see that willing, willing expression in their eyes!”

Marla woke and put her chin on Slim’s shoulder. “Should I?” she muttered.

Slim seemed not to hear. “Perhaps I am a glutton! I never seem to have enough merging in my life. Why not? Am I all alone? I don’t want to be.” She expelled a massive breath and shut her eyes. “Of course, my newest client will merge with me, too: she has no choice, since she is unable to have a relationship with anyone, so, for the moment, I am the only person in the world to her.”

Dra—, listening closely, standing a few feet away, now stepped back, suddenly fearful that she herself was this client but somehow did not yet know it. Slim saw her move behind the post, and gave a start.

“What on earth is that?” Slim said, standing, spilling Marla from her lap. “Don’t move, dear,” she called out. “We’ve already seen you. Come here immediately; you may be in sharp trouble. Who are you?”

Anxiously, Dra— stepped forward and explained that she was on her way, though very late, to her very first job assignment, and that things being as complicated as they were, she had stopped along the roof to watch the indoor airplanes, and to think and gain her composure; and now she would be on her way to work at once.

Looking down, Slim began rummaging through her bag again for some moments, as if she had become completely uninterested in this matter, then, lifting her face, she smiled brightly. “Do you know that it’s a terrible thing to wander the hallways and rooftops on foot the way you do? It looks bad. Much better to take an airplane to work: your whereabouts will be known at all times then, and you’ll meet more people that way, too!” She looked to Marla. “Marla, I think I’ve seen this young woman before somewhere, probably in some corner with a man.”

“Oh, no, no, that’s not true,” Dra— said quickly, blushing hard, then blushing a second time as she noticed Slim’s elegant face and attractive dress; she also noticed that Slim had odd, roaming eyes and did not seem quite to see or hear what was in front of her.

“Don’t lie to me, dear,” said Slim, as Marla looked on, rather agitated. “I’m not accusing you of anything terrible. I merely assume that everyone I meet has very special, intimate relationships, just the way I do.”

“Most of us only want someone to spoil and caress,” said Marla.

“Oh, Marla,” exhaled Slim. She turned to Dra— and snapped her fingers. “I just know I’ve seen you with a man, I’m sure of it, but I can’t remember who it was, or when. Come, tell me who he is!” Slim prodded. “Are you really comfortable with him at all times, and I mean that in the most delicate sense? My guess is that you are not.” Slim paused. Airplanes buzzed in the distance, and a scant breeze blew across the roof.

At this quiet juncture, Dra— realized how terribly late she was for her new job, though she also wanted to stay with these appealing women; and it occurred to her suddenly that she had seen Marla once before, long ago, alone in an elevator, smiling fearfully at a guard.

Slim turned. “Marla, go and watch the airplanes; I want to speak with this young woman alone.”

“What?” Marla said, stricken.

Slim said, “It seems you want to hold onto me, Marla, and I see you grow jealous easily. What does that mean? It means you don’t like to share, because you feel you’ll be cheated — so ultimately, you will never really know the joys of merging. Isn’t that rather a problem? It has a name.”

“I don’t like hearing you talk this way!”

“Go and watch the airplanes, Marla.”

Ashen, Marla went, looking across the flat distances of the roof, her skirt rippling in the air.

“You know,” said Slim, turning, smiling warmly, enclosing her dry hand around Dra—’s, “I love to learn about others, learn everything I can. Call it a tic: that’s just me. I want to learn about you because you’re quiet, you see. That draws me in. How would you like to let me be a listener, a confidante, a helper? Sometimes people are terrified to reveal the threads of their innermost feelings — you are this way — but you know, I love those little threads more than anything in this world. I catch them with my fingers! Sometimes people are so terrified of the truth that there is nothing to do but take those threads and yank them, hard and harder, until the truth jumps out! You see, if you allowed me to be a listener, you would learn all about yourself and life. Say yes, won’t you? It won’t be like other relationships, I promise, it will be unique in a way you’ve never imagined. Oh, isn’t it fate that our spirits will meld together this way? It hasn’t occurred yet, mind you; it won’t for a few days. We believe in spirits, don’t we? Spirits meld to one another easily, because they are made of metal.” Slim paused to glance at Marla, who stood quietly nearby, grief-stricken.

Slim drew a breath. “Supposing I learn all the most personal, intimate things about you — as if looking right down into your body. And suppose I take hold of those threads that are wound tight around your heart, choking it.” Her voice cracked. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful? My profession is based upon a form of love, you know.”

“Oh,” breathed Marla, shutting her eyes.

“Won’t you be my client?” Slim asked Dra—. “Why, you already are, in a way.”

“She isn’t!” said Marla furiously.

With some confusion, Dra— asked, “Are you talking about a new way to live?”

“Goodness, I’m talking about a way to be together!” Slim exhorted, reaching to hold Dra—’s waist in her hands. “Do you know that there is a terribly fine line between the need to be private and the need for companionship?” she asked.

“No.”

“I don’t like that line, myself. It irks me. Doesn’t it irk many of us?” she asked them both.

“Stop talking!” said Marla.

“Some like to flee,” continued Slim. “Don’t flee, though I can see that you usually flee. Don’t,” she said sweetly, now taking Dra—’s wrist.

Marla edged toward them. “I know all about the stuff of relationships. I have knowledge of—”

“Quiet!” Slim said, moving her hands to the top of Dra—’s head, closing her eyes with feeling as she slowly leaned forward and worked her fingertips into the scalp, massaging.

“Let me tell you the story of my life,” Slim said, her hands still enmeshed in the hair. “Long ago I was born embattled. Naturally I withheld everything from my mother — my words, and of course my feces. But now, years later, look at me! I am a professional twice over, and an expert to such a degree that you only stand to gain from our liaison. If only you would chance it!” She whimpered softly.

Marla shouted upwards to the domed roof, “Slim, I don’t like this, and I’m starting to forget just who and where I am! I’m afraid.”

Slim turned to look at Marla, and they were all silent for some minutes. A faint, continuous roar, perhaps airplanes, perhaps only the sound of the vast space enclosed by the roof far above them, could be heard.