Page 31 of Deja Who
FIFTEEN
“Ithought you were murdered in your other lives.”
Leah braved a peek at Archer, who didn’t seem a) horrified, b) revolted, or c) bored. Just interested, and concerned.
“The ones where I’m not an impotent observer, yes.”
“What are you talking about, impotent? You—”
“It means—”
“Whoa, whoa.” Archer had his hands up. “I know what impotent means. From the dictionary, not from any, uh, personal issues. But how can you say you’re just a watcher—you got arrested with the entire French royal family! You tried to help them escape, it’s not your fault you all got caught. I mean it wasn’t your fault.” He squinched his eyes shut and rubbed them, hard. “Argh, hate talking about past lives, all the verb tenses get weird.”
Leah hadn’t considered that. “Well... I cared about them and they all died. I couldn’t do anything.”
“Except learn from it and bring that knowledge into your next life?”
“Except I’m not. I just end up in the middle of some incredible terrible event in world history and can’t change anything or do anything.” Cripes, it had been so difficult to share this with them and she wasn’t sure they were getting it. Which was fair, because she wasn’t sure she was, either. But still: frustrating.
“So, what?” the mayor asked. She and Archer were sharing Leah’s carrots. “You were always on the sidelines. Or you think you were, which can be the same thing in some cases. So?”
Nope. They don’t get it. Should have kept my flapping mouth shut. Tight.“That isn’t—”
“You were back then, and way back then, and way way back then, and you are now, because Insighters are always on the sidelines, it’s pretty much a job requirement, and if no one’s ever told you, you’re a bit of a chilly bitch. So?”
“So maybethat’sthe problem.” They had been in the park long enough for the sun to begin to set, and deep golden rays slanted across Cat and Archer’s faces. Leah couldn’t help but be pleased that the only two people in her life she cared about
(you haven’t even known him a week! how is that “in your life”?)
seemed to be getting along. Sharing carrots, even. (Ugh.)
“What, being a chilly bitch?” At Leah’s arched eyebrows, Archer added, “I’m just using the mayor’s term! You didn’t object, so it’s agreed-upon. Unless you never want me to say it again. In which case, the term ‘chilly bitch’ is dead to me.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said dryly, and hoped he couldn’t hear the smile lurking behind her tone.
“Were you an Insighter in any of those lives?”
She shook her head. “No. Or not officially.” Though around since man first clubbed his first caveman girlfriend and later felt conflicted about it, Insighters had only been officially a thing (with accepted, industry-wide salary ranges, job protection from the government, and HMO coverage) for the last few decades. “If I ever was one, I don’t remember that part. Or I’d get a flash of something from another life and put it down to nerves or superstition or being stressed out by the French Revolution.”
“It certainly sounded stressful,” Archer agreed, and ate a carrot.
They’d only interrupted her tales of woe twice: Archer to ask what happened to Marie Antoinette’s daughter (Madame RoyaleMarie-Thérèse, later dauphine of France, survived the Reign of Terror, was the queen of France for twenty minutes, and lived into her seventies), and Cat to comment that Leah’s past lives definitely proved that no matter when you lived or what you lived through, job security was paramount.
“Really?” Archer asked, leaning back to look up at Cat, his eyebrows arching in amusement. “That’s what you’re taking away from all this? When the peasants come to cut off your head, be glad you at least kept your job?”
“It’s tough out there,” Cat replied, unruffled by the teasing. “Job hunting sucks. Can’t take steady work for granted in this economy. Or any other economy, come to think of it. I mean, jeez, even being a member of the ruling family isn’t a guarantee. Education is key, y’know.”
“Anyway,” Leah continued, “I think that’s the thread. I think maybe I keep getting murdered because I can’tnotbe passive.Or,” she added when Archer and Cat opened their mouths, “when I try to do something, anything, and it not only fails, people die. So I’ve basically taught myself never to get involved, never to interfere.” She shook her head in frustration. “Insighting is the perfect job for me. Like Cat said: part of my nature.” Her horrible, prickly, bitchy nature, which, incredibly, neither Cat nor Archer seemed to mind. So far. She turned to Archer. “Speaking of natures, have you ever seen an Insighter? Professionally?”
“Uh... no.”
That was an odd pause. Almost like he was worried she’d be offended. But Leah, who confronted former serial killers, rapists, child killers, dictators, monarchs, and disgruntled postal workers, and had been insulted by the best (and the worst) was almost impossible to offend. When you knew you were going to be eventually murdered, it was hard to work up a state of pissed-off if someone called you a bitch.
She frowned down at him; he was still sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the bench. “You’ve never seen an Insighter? Not even once? Most parents bring their kids in at least once, so they can be on the lookout for... well... anything, really.” Unless, of course, they were too busy hauling their preschooler to cattle calls for juice commercials and catalog shoots for back-to-school clothes and runway tryouts for designer swimwear shows.
The flip side of parents like Nellie, who had no use for Insight and refused to acknowledge anyone’s view but her own, were helicopter parents. Choppers were obsessed with their children’s past lives, and diagnosed same on their own. “She was born on September 11, two hours after the second tower fell, whichtotally explains her fear of heights! And possibly her fear of fire, planes, and OSHA regulations.”
“But she isn’t afraid of heights or fire or planes or OSHA regulations.”
