For a couple of seconds, all I could hear was Mitchell screaming. The pain in my upheld hand had gone numb. “Terry, what do you think you are doing you, bitch?? How dare you? blah blah blah blah” she went on. But it wasn’t Terry was it? It was Trope. Not Terry. I tried to tell Mitchell that, but she just stood behind me screaming out of control. And just like that Terry turned around, her face placid and left the diner. Mitchell stopped screaming and went back to taking orders. I fumbled around looking for the remains of my thumb that Terry had shot. So it was indeed Terry.
I held onto my thumb as if the fallen off bit would attach itself to me if I pressed it hard enough and went back to my spot behind the counter. Seeing and knowing that no one really cared, took a little getting used to. Some people continued eating throughout the whole fiasco while others just stared blankly. But I was still coming to terms with the fact that Terry had just shot me.
I met Terry 10 years ago at the 23rd Yearly Convention for Separate Planet for Lesbians (YCSPL). We were very young then. Terry had recently come out and me…well this was the third year I had been attending. After three days of sloganeering and listening to senior lesbian legislators speak, Terry and I had fallen deeply in love. With the blessings and legal sanctions of our district rep., Terry and I moved in together.
Terry was a psychology student and she intended to practice as a therapist very soon. You might think that’s why she decided to hook up with me, so that it would be easy for her to get a license to practice. After all, the law did stipulate that licenses would only be given to those lesbians who had steady partners.
But you don’t know Terry. She had made it clear to me that this was not some sort of arrangement where she would leave as soon as she got her license. And I believed her. I still believe her.
Now let me make this clear to you, our moving in together did not mean we were married. Terry and I had granted each other the freedom to see other people. Ours was a perfectly open relationship. So far, everything was perfect. Terry went to school while I baked for the local bakery.
The 25th YCSPL was a landmark. We had finally won the battle and were allocated Planet Ozilizia. We were given a year to relocate ourselves. Ozilizia was an abandoned planet so there were concerns about about striking resources but it was also known to have been a very fertile planet. The planet was renamed to Lesbos after the one that existed on Planet Earth before.
The first time Terry and I went to see Little Lesbos we were overwhelmed and goose bumpy all over. We found a nice little plot where we would build a house together. For the longest time everything was hunky dory. Life continued without much change.
We both felt we were not ready to start a family. Having children meant travelling back to one of the other planets to buy frozen sperm. Even though it had been three years since our move to Lesbos, our sperm banks were still very very barren. Tourists were urged to donate generously. Gay men travelling to Little Lesbos were looked at with suspicion and forbidden to donate even to friends. And import was made so expensive that there were conspiracy theories flying about.
All things considered, we felt it best to start a family when were more steady with our finances.
Although Terry had finally found a footing with her practice, laws were getting stricter by the minute. Previously, therapists were suspended from practice for a period of 6 months and expected to pay a fine if they got involved with any of their patients. But now in Little Lesbos, the license of any therapist who was found involved with any of their patients, at any point in time would have their license revoked.
Terry was slowly coming to be known as one of the best on the planet. She even had a couple of clients who flew in from other planets from our orbit. But the day Trope walked into her room was the day it all ended.
To be continued…