I have to sound reasonable. I have to sound reasonable or I'm the bad one again. "I, uh, I'm just wondering about the diaper thing. If she pulls them down, like she did—" She stopped, because Hortense had let out a muffled wail. Oh, Goddess. "Hortense, I'm sorry, but that's what happened!"
"They itched," Fergus said, giving Meredith a pleading look. "They weren't comfortable. That's what she told Harold. That's why she pulled them down. We're just going to see how it goes with the new ones, Merry, okay? Can you deal with that?"
"Um, sure." Like I have any choice. "I, uh-Hortense? Was there any particular reason you chose my bed? I mean—"
Hortense wailed again, a long keening this time, and began to rock. Harold said quietly, "She didn't choose. It was a mistake. Merry, she didn't know where she was."
"All our beds will be equally protected by the new measures," Gwyn said sardonically. "And if she's targeting you, we'll all take turns washing your sheets, Merry, okay?" There was a ripple of laughter, and some of the tension in the room eased. "Are we done, people?"
"Not quite," Matt said. "Merry seems to think this is personal, so I want to hear her and Hortense talk to each other."
"I just tried!" Meredith said, unable to keep from raising her voice. "I just tried to talk to her and she just howled! Matt—"
"Merry, tell her it's all right."
"But it's not," Merry said, and found herself standing, her knotted fists at her sides. "It's not all right! Look, I'm sorry, I know she wants to be a regular grown-up, I know she hates the diapers—that's why she pulled them down, because pulling your pants down is what grown-ups do, it's the first thing you learn—but it's not working. It hasn't been working. I don't hate Hortense, I don't, really I don't, but it's not fair for anybody for her to stay here, we can't pay enough attention to her, we can't give her the care she needs, we—"
She stopped, sick. Harold, glaring at her, was clutching his wife's shoulders, and the others' faces had closed. Merry, defeated and disgusted, raised her hands and said, "Look, if it's her or me, then I guess she wins. If you want me out of here, I'll leave. "
"No one's saying that," Matt said, very gently. "The only person who thinks it's her or you is you, Merry."
"Let me rephrase that," Gwyn said. "If you wind up being excluded, it will be because you excluded yourself. You need to take some responsibility for your own reactions here, Meredith—and if you can't deal with dirty sheets, I hope the Goddess never favors you with children."
"That's uncharitable," Matt said sharply. "Gwyn, please apologize." Gwyn folded her arms over her chest. "I won't. I meant what I said. If she can't cope with a little urine—"
"You wouldn't have liked it either!" Raji said. "Come on, Gwyn, be fair."
Matt shook his head. "Raji, hush. Gwyn, you hush too. Merry, listen to me: I know you're finding this a tremendous challenge. You're having to deal with all kinds of people you haven't encountered before, including Hortense, and I know it's very hard. It would be hard for just about anybody. If you decide to leave, no one will blame you. But we aren't going to kick Hortense out to make you more comfortable. Is that clear?"
"Very," Meredith said. "It's very clear."
"You don't know her," Harold said quietly. "You haven't known her long enough to remember her the way she used to be. She was funny and pretty and told great stories, Merry. She made the sun come out. Everybody loved her. You've never seen that, but that's what she was once, and that's why we want her to stay here."
The others murmured assent; Anna reached out and touched Harold's shoulder. Matt, nodding, said, "Yes, that's right. But we can't expect Merry to understand that, because she's new. Merry, you've got some time to decide what you want to do. Don't rush it. Come talk to me if you need to, all right?"
"Sure," Meredith said bitterly. She was the bad one again; she didn't seem to be able to get away from it.
She stayed in her seat until everyone except Raji had left the room. She couldn't get out of her chair; her limbs felt weighted with lead. "Hey," Raji said, kneeling down next to her. "Hey, come on, Merry, get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning."
"If I were wandering around peeing on people's stuff, would I get to stay here too?"
Raji grinned. "Probably not, unless you waited another seventy-five years before you started. Cheer up. You get to spend time with the critters tomorrow, right? Your furry little friend Sashimi, who might even decide not to scratch you? You always look forward to seeing him."
"Thanks," Merry said. Sashimi was an Abyssinian who'd been left in a Dumpster when he was a kitten and found, covered with fleas and cigarette burns, by a sanitation engineer who brought the furiously struggling animal to the nearest animal hospital. The cat recovered physically, but remained fractious and aggressive, a hissing, spitting bundle who'd taken weeks to become tame enough even for an adoption room. He was still a one—maybe a one-minus, one of the behaviorists told Merry—and she and other volunteers had spent days sitting in the room with him, trying to teach him to trust. Just a few days before, he had finally gathered the courage to sidle out from behind his cat tree when Merry was in the room. He still wasn't a nice animal, but she'd rather spend time with him than with Hortense any day. "Yeah, and if I'm lucky, I'll get to see Henry and the Martian too."
Raji clucked. "Tomorrow's feral cat food-distribution day?"
"Yup. And every day's duck-the-reporters day."
"Come on." Raji stood up, grabbed her ann, and hauled her to her feet. "With a busy schedule like that, you need a good night's sleep. At least you have nice clean sheets, remember?" His hand on her arm was very warm, and she fought a rush of vertigo, half hoping he'd follow her back to her cubicle.
He didn't. He let go of her arm once she was standing, and went back to his own cubicle, and blasted techno-bop while Gwyn and Dave made shrieking, cacaphonous love. Meredith, too tense even to masturbate, lay in the noisy dark, trying to keep from loathing every single person in the dorm, until finally she fell asleep.
* * *
Henry and the Martian, both homeless, came to the SPCA once a week to collect free cat food and bring in trapped animals for neutering. The Martian thought she was from Mars. Henry seemed sane enough, but was so filthy that no one could stand to get close to him. Opinion about them among Maddie Center volunteers was divided. Some people thought they shouldn't be entrusted with the care of animals, since they couldn't take proper care of themselves. Others suspected that they probably ate the free cat food, instead of giving it to the cats. A third faction responded tartly that if they ate the cat food, maybe they needed it, and that since they brought in stray animals, they evidently cared more about the animals than certain other people cared about them. Intellectually, Meredith had always agreed firmly with the third group. That didn't keep her from being alarmed whenever the Martian started making beeping noises, or from getting sick to her stomach whenever she had to stand too close to Henry.
The day after the Hortense conference, Meredith arrived at the Maddie Center and reported in at the volunteer office to find out where she was needed. It was a dismal day, cold and wet, and she welcomed the brightness of the building. The volunteer coordinator, a cheerful older guy named Ted, handed her the latest socialization schedule and said, "We've already done the feral-cat stuff. The Martian brought in a queen and three kittens; Henry brought in two toms. They're all being checked out at the clinic building. Mephisto got adopted—"
"Oh, good!"
"Yeah. Nice people too. So 'Phisto's gone, and Tommy just graduated to a four. There are three newcomers; you can read the files. Sashimi still needs work. Spend extra time with him today, two hours maybe."
"Okay. I can do that."
"It'll be restful," Ted said. "Not many visitors today; I guess it's the weather. Sash'll probably hide the whole time again, but you never know. Do you need something to read?"
"No thanks. I've got homework." She doubted she'd get any of it done; she tended to zone out in the cat rooms, and Sashimi's had one of the more comfortable couches. She'd fallen asleep there before, and woken with a guilty start, glad no one had seen her.
Today, someone had beaten her to it. A long bundle of rags lay stretched out on Sashimi's couch. Sashimi, his mouth open in a yowl and his tail lashing, glared from underneath a chair.
Henry. It was Henry. How had he gotten back here? How had he gotten into the room? Merry jammed her key into the lock and yanked open the door, only to be greeted by Sashimi's caterwauling and by a foul stench that propelled her two steps backward. How could Henry sleep through the noise? "Get out," she said, and Henry opened his eyes. "You don't belong here! You're upsetting the cat! How did you get in here?"
"I picked the lock. Good couch going to waste. Do you have any idea how long it's been since I got to take a nap on a couch?"
Meredith swallowed. "Look, I'm sorry, you have to leave, you don't belong here and you aren't trained—"
"To do what? Take a nap? I know how to do that fine. It's raining out. Did you know that?"
"Yes," Merry said, taking a deep breath and fighting for a compassion she didn't feel. She was furious; she wanted to break something. She was goddamn tired of goddamn smelly people getting in her way. She fantasized briefly about locking Hortense and Henry in a room together, and then said, "Ted will give' you a list of shelters."
"Those places," Henry said, sitting up, "are not safe. Nope. I'm not going there. And my cave's muddy in this weather."
"Sashimi's upset," Merry said. She knew how brittle her voice sounded; she didn't care. It was all she could do to stay minimally polite. ''I'm here to help Sashimi."
Henry threw back his head and hooted. "Even the kitties get crumbs from the Friskies bowl!"
What? The man was totally nuts. "Henry, you're upsetting Sashimi!" Her voice had developed a squeak. "Please leave, or I'm going to have to call Ted."
"I know how to help cats, lady. I've helped more than this little guy."
Henry bent over to peer at Sashimi, who stopped howling long enough to hiss and spit. "I've brought you people fifty cats just in the last six months."
"Henry, please, I'm supposed to be sitting with Sashimi now."
"Well then, fine. You sit on that chair over there. Plenty of room for both of us."
Meredith didn't bother to answer; she pushed the intercom button on the wall and said, "Ted? It's Merry. Listen, Henry broke into Sashimi's room. Would you mind coming back here, please?"
* * *
"So they arrested him," Matt said. Merry was in his office, in tears. She'd come home and tried to pretend that nothing had happened, but Raji and Gwyn had seen right away that she was upset, and rather than tell them what had happened, she'd come here. It wouldn't make any difference. It wasn't like she'd be allowed to stay once her trial period was up, anyway.
"I wasn't trying to get him arrested! I just wanted him to—to go away! I didn't even know Ted would have to call the police! Matt, he wouldn't move. He wouldn't get up from the couch. We didn't know what else to do. When the cops carried him out, he just went limp in their arms."
"That used to be called nonviolent resistance," Matt said quietly. "Refusing to move like that. It was a kind of civil disobedience. Merry, do you understand why he did it?"
"Sure. Because it was raining out and he didn't want to go to the people shelters. Because he thought we owed him something for bringing in all those cats, I guess. But it's not a hotel!"
"No," Matt said drily. "The Maddie Center's not a hotel, and the dorm's not a nursing home. There's a pattern here. Do you see it?"
Yeah. The pattern's that I'm always the bad one. She couldn't say that; it would only make her seem even more like a spoiled child. Merry dug her fingers into the arms of her chair and said, as steadily as she could, "He could have hurt Sashimi! Sashimi was traumatized."
"Right. Go ahead and change the subject." Matt sighed. "Merry, why would he have hurt the cat? He loves cats, right?"
"All right! If you're so compassionate, what should I have done? What would you have done?"
Matt shrugged. "Sat on the chair, like Henry suggested?"
"But then I could have gotten in trouble! I'm not supposed to let anyone else in."
"Ah," Matt said, giving her a sharp look. "That's the crux, isn't it? You didn't want to get into trouble. Did you tell Henry that? Maybe if you'd told him that, he'd have understood. I suspect Henry knows all about getting into trouble. He certainly does now."
Meredith felt like writhing in her seat, but forced herself to stay still. "Matt, he broke into the room! He picked the lock—he told me that himself! Maybe he should have gotten into trouble!"
"All right. But if that's what you think, why are you so upset?"
"Because I can't get anybody to see that my side makes sense too."
"Ah," Matt said, very gently. "So whatever you do, you get into trouble. That's the problem. We're back to that again. You know, you're never going to get a one-hundred-percent approval rating from everybody, Merry."
"I know that!" She glared at him and said, "You think I'm a rich little snob, don't you?"
"No, I don't think that at all. I think you're going through an incredibly painful time of growth, and I'm afraid it will drive you away. I wish you wouldn't leave, but I suspect you will."
He was just saying that. He was trying to make it easier on her. Goddamn Matt, who never said anything wrong. Meredith, furious and miserable, bent her head—assuming a humility she didn't feel—and said, "Well, I guess I'm just not very good at this social ministry thing." She knew her voice sounded taunting; she couldn't help it. "I guess I really am a rich little snob. So that means I have to leave, right?"
She heard him sigh. "Now wait a second! Just hang on. Gwyn said last night that if you walk away, it will be because you're excluding yourself. She was right. I'm not going to do that, and I'm not going to let you walk away thinking that you had to leave because you weren't given any choices. If you aren't good at social ministries, that's fine. Plenty of other people aren't, either. If you want to stay, tell me what you think you might be better at."
She squinted warily up at him. "I can change my ministry area?"
"Of course!" Matt looked genuinely shocked. "Who said you couldn't? Did I ever say that?"
"No, I just—"
"You were afraid you'd get into trouble." He shook his head and said, "You're not going to get into trouble. What would you rather do, Merry? What do you think would come more easily?"
"Aesthetics," Merry said promptly. She hadn't known what she was going to say before she said it, but now it came out in a rush. "Working with living spaces, starting with that crappy common room! The places where people spend time are incredibly important, Matt—being in isolation taught me that—and everybody deserves decent living space. Even Temple initiates, even poor people. I know it sounds hypocritical because I wouldn't let Henry stay in Sashimi's room, but there has to be some way to make more of the spaces where we live sacred, and—"
"Okay, okay, I've got it." Matt grinned and said, "You're your mother's daughter, aren't you?"
"What?"
"Don't take it the wrong way. Artistic, that's all I meant. Okay, so what do you need for the common room? Paint to start, probably, right?"
"I need to go look at it. I need to make a list."
"Okay. Go make a list. Oh, I almost forgot: your mother called to remind you that you have a doctor's appointment tomorrow."
Merry grimaced. "I wish they'd quit with that stuff." She'd grown stronger during her time at the Temple; she no longer needed physical therapy, and while her hair remained white and her joints still occasionally ached, the chronic fatigue she'd experienced after her release from the hospital seemed to be gone. But she still had to see the doctor every two or three months for total-body scans, a procedure she hated. At least it would get her out of taking the therapy dogs to the hospital.
* * *
The scan took an hour. She lay naked in a dimly lit tube, staying as still as possible, wondering how long she was going to have to keep having scans. She fought back a yawn; if she moved too much, they'd have to do the whole thing all over again. She didn't dare fall asleep in case she twitched or something, and she was tired. She'd stayed awake half the night, manic, thinking about ways to civilize the common room. Finding a way to stay at the Temple, even if Hortense stayed too, made her feel as if she'd been released from a trap. She didn't even feel as claustrophobic in the tube as she usually did.
When the technician finally opened the tube, Merry sat up, blinking against the brighter light outside, and said, "So, are all my organs still intact?"
The technician gave her a thin smile. "You'll have to speak to Dr. Honoli about that. I'm not allowed to talk about what I see."
"Right," Meredith said, permitting herself the yawn she'd stifled earlier. "I might sue if you told me my liver'd gone missing and then it was a mistake, right?"
"You can get dressed now," the tech said, and Meredith rolled her eyes. These people had no sense of humor. She shrugged herself into her clothing and wandered, still yawning, into Honoli's office. He'd tell her she was fine, tell her to come back again in another few months, and let her leave. Ho-hum.
Her mother was waiting with him, as usual, as if she didn't trust Meredith to repeat back to her what he'd said. The films were spread out on Honoli's desk, as usual, and he was pointing at things and speaking in a low murmur to her mother, as usual. As usual, Meredith wondered if Preston were present, and how much he knew about her continuing medical condition.
Her mother and the doctor looked up when Meredith entered the room. Honoli was frowning, and Constance looked worried. That wasn't usual. Meredith blinked. "What?"