PART FOUR
He visited her every day. The day after he had walked with her in the gardens, he had brought along a book. He noticed that none of her fellow cadets had thought about reading to her. He hadn't known what she liked. But he liked reading Moby Dick and thought that she might like it.
"I think Captain Ahab was a tough Captain. Monomaniacal and uncompromising, but a leader..."
"You've read the book already?" he asked, disappointed.
"Oh, please, it's alright. I could read that book over and over."
"You're sure?" He knew he sounded sceptical, certain that she was humouring him.
"Amahl," she said with mild exasperation, "I want to listen to your voice."
That settled it for him. So he started reading. She sat in the chair by the window while he sat on the edge of her bed. Sometimes she stopped him and they'd discuss a phrase or sentence or paragraph. Then there'd been several minutes of heated debate before he continued. He enjoyed the sparring, realised that Kathryn thrived on the stimulating discussion. One day they were so engrossed that he hardly realised that it had gone long past visiting hour. Doctor Pulaski had come in earlier and promptly left after saying, "Don't mind me, you go ahead. I'll check on Kathryn's progress later."
It was 1800 by the time he left.
"Amahl, you read beautifully," she said a few days later. "I - I have a book. It's in my room at the Academy... My roommate can give it to you..."
He went to the Academy, asked about Kathryn's roommate and returned later with a collection of poems by Elizabeth Barret.
"I like poetry."
"You’re something else, Kathryn Janeway. Most girls your age would be interested in more...pleasurable things."
"And reading the classics and poetry is not pleasurable?"
"You know what I mean. I mean - "
"I'm not most girls, Amahl..."
"I'm glad you're not," he said with great conviction.
He had a mental image of Jimbo with his bimbos. Those girls had nothing on their minds but the idle pursuit of pleasure. He had disappeared completely after that first day and would only, at the last minute, report for duty at Earth's Orbital Station. Jimbo had frequented Sandrine's in Marseilles every day during the second Academy year and most probably he was there with two or three of his girls.
His own initial unwillingness to play 'nursemaid' to Kathryn had turned into pleasure, cantered into fevered anticipation to get to hospital and see her. He hadn't forgotten about his intention to visit Grey Eagle in Mexico, but he had become friends with Kathryn Janeway, and she became the sole reason he wanted to wake up every morning and rush to Starfleet Medical long before visiting hour. He wanted to be there the day they took the visor off and he could finally see her eyes. And, she could finally see him...
One afternoon, as he entered her ward, she stumbled towards him.
"Amahl!"
He rushed forward quickly and held her slender shoulders.
"Kathryn? What is it? What's troubling you?"
"My hair! It's full of tangles. I - I tried to wash it..."
Only then he realised that Kathryn's hair was wet.
"The nurse...or one of the cadets?"
Kathryn jerked away from him. He had to catch her as she stumbled against the bed. Her lips were compressed. Her nostrils flared. Kathryn's face was flushed. She was angry, mostly at herself, he guessed. She hated depending on others; she hated feeling helpless. That he read to her from her favourite book or anthology of poems, or held her hand as they walked in the garden, was a concession because she had become close to him, in a way. With him she didn't have to pretend. She could cry, if she wanted to. There was a great ease with which she could rest her head against his chest, or hold his hand, or just talk.
Now as he looked at her, he thought she hated her disability. The area around the visor was red. She might have been crying tears of rage. Even that luxury was denied her. So he pulled her to him gently. He didn't think that there were tangles in her hair, but then, in those moments she was Kathryn, a young girl who was picky about such things as tangles in her hair.
"Want me to help?" he asked.
She raised her face to him. He wanted to touch the visor, then pulled his hand away.
"I could use some assistance."
In the tiny bathroom that led off the ward, he found a brush. He grimaced. The basin looked a mess. Why didn't Kathryn tell the nurses she wanted to have her hair washed? When he returned, she was sitting in the chair by the window. He heard her give a sigh as he carefully brushed the tangles out of her hair. He lifted the silky strands and reeled from its softness.
"Your hair is very long. Don't cut it..."
"Are you my boss?" she asked.
"It's just...it's beautiful, you know."
"Amahl, I can't guarantee it will always be this long. Who knows, sometime in the future - "
"I hope very far into the future."
"Well, thank you for interrupting my train of thought. Now, as I was saying, sometime in the future I might think of cutting it."
"As long as it stays with 'might'".
Kathryn sat still while he continued to brush her hair until it lay, almost dry, smooth down her back.
"Thank you, Amahl."
He didn't want to be thanked. All he knew was that he lost himself in the smell of her hair, in the glorious freedom of running his fingers through it.
"You're welcome."
She rose from the chair. Her palms rested against his chest. He was transfixed by the blush to her cheeks. It was a different red from the earlier anger. Her lips were parted, waiting. He tried to back away, telling himself he shouldn't get involved. He wasn't even Amahl. What was he thinking? There was an inexorable pull towards her that he wanted to reject, to deny. But every nerve in his body strained for the release that touching her lips would bring him. Every particle begged him to strain forward. Kathryn pressed into him and he gave a little moan of defeat. He gave up the fight, lowering his head slowly. His lips brushed hers, then rested lightly on velvet cushions. Blinding sparks shot through him, burst in behind his closed eyelids and lit up the universe. Another moan escaped him. Did her lips move beneath his? Did she invite his tongue to taste her?
Another blinding flash. Cadet Ravenscraig's malicious outpour burst between them. He released Kathryn suddenly.
"I - I'm sorry. So sorry. Spirits... I shouldn't have done that..." Kathryn stood, her fingers touching the lips that had just been kissed by him. He backed away from her. "Please, forgive me. I didn't mean..."
"Amahl?"
"Yes, Kathryn?"
"I liked it..."
"You - you did?" he stammered. But he wasn't convinced. He knew that a nurse or Doctor Pulaski would soon look in on her; he knew that a very cold shower was what he needed. Maybe a cold shower wasn't necessary. The reality of kissing Cadet Kathryn Janeway, Starfleet aristocrat, daughter of Admiral Janeway, was cold enough to douse his passion. In craven haste he fled. Even as her door closed, he could hear her calling his name.
The next day he was back at the hospital, and Kathryn had been glad that he came. There were no apologies, no recriminations, no discussion, just the knowledge that they shared a very special moment. He couldn't stay away. Sometime between the embrace and their next meeting, he had decided to go to Mexico after all. He needed to breathe, to mull over the wonder and guilt of the kiss. She was blind and he had taken advantage of that. They never spoke about the kiss again. By tacit agreement, it seemed best to forget that it happened. But he had been awake most of the night dreaming of her, and thinking of that blissful touch. Kathryn had felt soft in his arms, and he would remember her softness for a long, long time.
On the Saturday Kathryn's mother finally came to visit. She had been grateful that he kept Kathryn company. In an arrangement by Doctor Pulaski, Kathryn had been on an audio link with her mother. That had at least made up for the fact that Gretchen Janeway had been unable to visit her daughter. He liked Gretchen Janeway. She had a no-nonsense attitude about her. He wondered how she coped with her husband being away from home so much and missing his daughters' birthdays and Christmases. She glared at him.
"Kathryn told me about you."
"She did?" He was surprised.
"And you say your name is Amahl?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Good. Kathryn will be coming home with me to Indiana. I have a few days free, and hopefully by the end of our stay, we can remove the blessed blindfold."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"You are welcome to visit her at Indiana, Ensign Amahl."
"Yes, Ma'am."
"Hey, you two...I'm right here in the room with you."
"Take no notice of her, Ensign Amahl. My daughter needs to be taken in hand."
Chakotay wanted to laugh at the way Kathryn pulled her mouth into a comical expression and the way Gretchen Janeway took charge of the situation, merrily dismissing Kathryn's objections. He had known Kathryn was going home to Indiana. It was all she could talk about the previous day. He wasn't certain that Kathryn needed any "taking in hand", but on the odd occasion she had been remarkably determined, especially when they had one of their lively discussions. He wished he could see her eyes then. On the third day that he visited her, she had told him her eyes were a "sort of cross between blue and grey". He looked at Gretchen Janeway who stood hands on her hips waiting for his reply.
"I will make every effort to visit her in Indiana, Mrs Janeway."
"Thank you. You have no idea how - "
"Mom! I can decide for myself. Besides, I have already asked Amahl if he'd like to come to Indiana, even if it's only for an afternoon."
"You have?"
"Yes, Mom," Kathryn sighed. "I have."
"Well, I'll leave you two alone. We leave at 1630."
When Gretchen left, Kathryn gave a sigh of relief.
"My mom - "
"Loves you very much. I can see..."
"I guess..."
"Don't worry. It's an honour to be asked. I'd like to come."
****
END PART FOUR