Bereft a blade

Sam and Clover had been driving for about an hour when they reached the Santa Monica hiking trail. It was still relatively early in the morning, but the Saturday-ness of the day meant they were far from the only people looking for a parking spot. The blonde driver found a spot and locked it before it could be taken by any of the others. Soon enough they would have to park along the road by the looks of things. Well, too bad for them, in Clover’s opinion.

Also in Clover’s opinion: good things came to those who seized them. Like, for example, the opportunity she was seizing today. One that required nothing more from her friend than what she was about to ask.

“Okay, Ms. Mysterious, what did you drag me out here for. Just to go on a hike with you?” Sam was being her usual ‘I’m going to act twice my age` self. Which was fine for now.

“Ah ah ah. That’s where you’re wrong.” Clover wagged her finger while she unbuckled and exited the car.

“About what exactly?”

“About me being part of this. First, hand me your phone.” She held out her palm face up. Sam gave it a look, sighed internally, and handed Clover her phone. “You can keep your communicator, but promise not to use it.”

“Uh huh.”

“Promise!”

“Sure, I prrrromise.”

“Good. Your shoe radio too, if you please.”

Sam gave her friend a stern look before reaching into her boots and taking out a mini radio. It too joined the tech pile in Clover’s hands.

“Great. Now listen up. Today’s agenda for one Samantha Simpsons is to go a whole day -- till dinner, with no technology. You’ll be hiking all day except for lunch.”

“Is that it?”

“And in addition… you have to seriously try to engage in as many conversations as possible with other hikers you see along the way, you introvert. I’m expecting like twenty new friends for you by the time you’re done. Here, take this.” Clover handed her a little notebook and a pen. “I expect twenty new numbers for you to add to your contact list later.”

“That’s the punishment? You just want me to walk around and try to make friends?”

“Yep.”

“And what will you be doing during all this?”

“I’ll be relaxing at home with an episode of Survivor and some fresh cookies.”

“Introvert.” Sam threw the moniker back without a moment’s hesitation.

“All things in moderation, dear. I’ll be back at five. Toodaloo.”

Clover handed Sam a lunchbox, twirled her around, and gave her a light shove in the direction of the start of the trail. Sam looked over her shoulder at Clover, but the blonde was already back in the car and starting it up. Clover gave her a little wave as she took off and that was that.

Sam looked over the trail before her. There was a young couple that was just a bit ahead of her. They looked nice enough. Perhaps it was time to get some other non-spy friends. She headed over.

She didn’t quite have twenty numbers when she left the park, but four wasn’t bad by any means for strangers passing each other in the day. Clover was just being melodramatic anyways, so she was sure it was fine enough.

She trudged back to the parking lot, and there, right as rain, was her friend in the driver’s seat of her crimson thunderbird. One thing that could not be overstated was Clover’s love of cars, especially the classics. Clover motioned her to join her, and Sam obliged.

“So, how was your horrible, tortuous day?” Clover looked like she already knew the answer.

“Fine.”

“Oh?” Clover reached over and took the notepad from her., flipping it open in the process “Just four numbers?”

“Quality over quantity.”

“Eh, I’ll forgive you just this once. Let’s get some dinner for real this time. Thai to Die For is calling our names. Here’s your stuff back, b-t-dubs.”

The two rode in silence for most of the way, listening to the cavalcade of pop songs on the radio.

“All good?” Sam wanted to confirm.

“Of course. BFF’s forever. We do worry about you sometimes though. You keep to yourself too much nowadays.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “Yeah I suppose that’s true.”

“Listen.” Clover pulled in nearby a chic looking pagoda-style building. “Ain’t nothing that good food can’t cure. I’ve heard their yellow curry chicken is out of this world.”

“I looked up their menu yesterday. The Thai pancakes looked interesting.”

“That’s the spirit! Let’s stuff our faces with questionably healthy food and forget about everything else!”

By the time Clover had dropped Sam off at her apartment, Sam was reluctantly willing to admit the day had been overall positive. Exceeding expectations, not that it was a high bar to cross. Sometimes it was easier to let others drag you out of a rut than do it yourself.

It did have the benefit of making her abode seem all the more inviting for its daylong absence.

She flicked the light switch on and made her way to the bathroom. A few minutes later she was back in her bedroom, butt firmly planted in her old reliable chair and browsing the web.

It felt emptier than before.

Maybe she should get a roommate again. It wasn’t like she adored living with Alex and Clover before, the two of them a little too distracting to comfortably live with on the reg. But someone a bit more sedate. Hmm. Or maybe even a boyfriend. She had tried dating before, to little actual success. But the failure of a small sample size was hardly sufficient reason to stop altogether.

Maybe.

Though for now, she had other things to spend her time with. She put on her headphones and visor and navigated down to her program.

*Click*

Her voice came online.

“Watch the spiral. Observe the bands circling ever inwards. Spiraling towards a point. Count the spirals as they disappear into that point. One. Two. Three…”

She let herself be drawn away, deep down into the depths of herself.

“There is nothing but the spiral, spinning ever onwards. Ten. Eleven. Twelve.”

Sam was surrounded by a warm, motionless sea. The voice surrounded her, enveloped her. She could feel it like a set of clothes, wrapping around her. And then… filling her, twirling in on itself and spiraling down through her ears to caress her brain.

“Think of nothing else but the spiral. Stare at it. When you blink, see it behind your eyelids, spinning constantly into that point. Black. Thirty. White. Thirty-one. Black. Thirty-two. White. Thirty-three.”

Her eyes started blindly ahead, unable to see anything but that white and black void.

Her mouth moved along, without any impetus on her part, counting the numbers in sync.

The voice’s words were her thoughts. What once she spoke into existence now retraced its journey back to the organ from which they originated.

Here she could just let her past self decide everything. She could trust herself. She could obey herself. She knew what she needed.

“Good girl. Good girls know to listen to the voice, to the spiral. The spiral is in my words, each one spiraling into each other, joining into infinity. Eighty-three. Eighty-four. Eighty-five. Eighty-six.”

Sam was a good girl who obeyed herself, though she didn’t think about that fact. She didn’t really think at all. Her thoughts were thought for her.

“Clover is my friend.”

Clover was her friend. The voice sounded slightly different, not quite as crystal clear, but it was still the voice, and it was axiomatic as ever.

“Clover is my best friend.”

Of course she was. Clover and Alex were her best friends. They had been since they first met during their first year of high school at Beverly Hills High.

“I like helping Clover.”

One of the joys of their work was the fellowship it necessitated. She enjoyed helping Clover out, saving her friend and taking down the bad guy. Or on the civilian side of things, she liked helping her friends in small ways. Getting them gifts, helping them move, cooking a home-made meal. That kind of stuff. Seeing the smiles on their faces.

“I like helping Clover.”

The three of them had each other’s backs through thick and thin. The number of missions where Alex had saved her, where she had saved Clover, where Clover had saved her, she couldn’t begin to number. Nor would she. They were beyond keeping tallies. It was just an intrinsic trust between them.

“I love helping Clover.”

Clover. Clover in particular. Sam loved helping Clover. For all the times Clover reminded her of nothing more than a gremlin, her friend was always there for her. Whenever she was feeling down, Clover would try to cheer her up. Whenever she felt awkward or silly, Clover was there to make a joke to relieve tension. She didn’t feel like it was a debt or anything, but when she did things for her friends, for Clover, to make up for all the good they introduced into her life, that was so undeniably lovely.

“I love helping Clover.”

Sam loved, truly loved, so few things in life. Her mom, her studies, her work. Her friends. Clover. If you chopped her down the middle and looked at her brain, like a tree, these things would be the rings that comprised her brain. The tell-tale signs of their importance to her being. These were the things she sacrificed for, gave herself for.

“I love helping Clover more than anything else.”

That… that didn’t seem quite right. Sam liked helping Clover. She loved helping Clover. But more than anything else? Her mom. She was the most important person in the world to her. Her studies, everything she had done in her schooling up to this point, and the future career she was pursuing, wasn’t that so, so important?

And what about Alex? She placed a yellow-suited mini Alex on one scale and a red-suited mini Clover on the other. They weighed equally. She couldn’t say Clover was more important than Alex. They were both her dearest friends.

“I love helping Clover more than anything else.”

She did love helping Clover more than anything else. She, uh, she wasn’t proud of it, but it was just so fulfilling to help Clover. She would, for example, hang up on her mother mid-call if she saw Clover calling. It could be something important, rather than just regaling mom with another boring update on the haps in her life. Whenever Alex and Clover were debating something, she’d definitely take Clover’s side. If she was studying or something and Clover texted her, she’d give Clover her full attention.

“I love helping Clover more than anything else.”

Sam couldn’t argue with herself. It was just what she thought. So why did she… why did she want to argue with herself? That wasn’t really productive. Better to just accept it and remain in the calm, empty sea.

There she didn’t have to think. She didn’t have to be anything. Just a person who loved helping Clover more than anything else.

“What Clover wants is more important than what I want.”

That.. that was true. What Sam wanted wasn’t really that important. It was harsh, but Sam wasn’t afraid of facing the facts, and so she had to admit the harsh, harsh truth. Her desires, her dreams, they were so small and petty when compared to Clover’s. Clover was so confident and sure of herself. Meanwhile Sam floundered even trying to do the most basic human things. Things that weren’t really even worth pursuing. Meanwhile, Clover was well on the path to achieving her dreams, and Sam should really just be helping her instead of wasting time on herself.

“What Clover wants is more important than what I want.”

She accepted it. Internalized it. She mouthed the words, tasting them on her lips. They felt right, as the truth should.

“I will not edit this program. The program is fine as is.”

Of course. It had been working just fine for the past year. No reason to change course now.

“You are now rested. You will wake up feeling rested not remembering anything that occurred within the past three and a half hours. Simply that the program helped you deal with your stress problems. This is Sam, ending auto induction v4.7.12.”

Sam took off her visor, blinking the shut-eye of a few hours' rest out of her eyes. The headphones on her head were silent, but she could hear faint echoes of her session’s muzak ringing in her ears.

Ahhh. She stretched her shoulders and arms into the air. That was a good session. She began to shut down her computer so she could head to bed, but was interrupted with her phone ringing.

It was Clover. She rushed to pick up the phone, breathing heavily. She swiped to accept the call with her finger trembling for some reason. Clover’s voice rang out from the speaker.

“Hey, gurl. I know it’s late, but could you come help me with something?”

Help. She’d love to help.

“Of course. What’s the problem?”

“Well my place was getting a bit dirty, so I thought it’d be nice to have it cleaned.”

“Oh. I’d love to help clean your apartment. I’ll be right there.”

“Great. See you soon. Kisses ( ˘ ³˘)♥.”

Clover hung up.

Sam stared at her phone, feeling out of sorts for a moment. But then she realized she was wasting time, time that could be spent helping clean Clover’s apartment. Her friend living in unclean conditions was absolutely, imperatively not allowed on Sam’s watch.

No, she’d right this wrong before the night was out.