Regeneration X (26 page)

Another realism I have to face is actors undergo dance and voice instruction as well, and I never have been especially coordinated or vocally gifted. I’m doubly horrified with the idea of learning how to sing and dance now, in my youth suit, which is only a dressing if you get my drift. It seems on most fronts with my choice to be an actress, I would be as mediocre as I thought life and myself were before my regeneration. Then again, if I quit I am no better than my previous self was either—giving up too soon. I know it would really be a matter of sticking to it, practice makes perfect. I wouldn’t always have to perform plays, classical or otherwise, however, if I suck as a stage actor I may never get the opportunity for screen acting. If I expend all my energies just to end up a ‘B’ movie actress, I know I won’t be just discontent. I will be miserable, perhaps bitter.

I
do
feel a sense of urgency to: one, make my choice and not take 20 years to live up to it and, two, make the choice I really want, without wasting time and which I’m least prone to regret later. This time around, I didn’t want to switch five times trying to figure it out and still end up dissatisfied with the choices I made.

I had so many dreams of what I would do if given the chance and being an actress wasn’t the only one—maybe just the most frequent and obvious. I’d begun to consider all those old options and some new ones. I enjoyed being a writer. I could retrain toward travel writing or something more exciting for a social scene magazine, or even write creative fiction. Only, writing anything seems like a repeat of my previous career path where I became pigeonholed. It had to be something that would have made CR and re-aging worthwhile. I loved animals. How about the veterinary sciences? Healthcare again, except for animals. A photojournalist with ambitions of working for the
National Geographic
? This sounded nice, but it would mean transferring to a different university, possibly not even in London, uprooting everything again. I couldn’t do this to Inez or myself.

I mulled over these ideas for a while when, near the end of last term, my Interpretation of Text professor, Tara Mackey, acknowledged a gift I have for textual analysis. I saw it as a kind of sign from above. This option had completely slipped my mind. When I decided against teaching an online composition course at the community college in Seattle, I remember thinking, if only I was qualified to teach literary critical analysis, I would jump at the opportunity. So, this impressed upon me a veer in my road to career happiness.

Having taken a couple of classes, along with the insights I’ve gained from the experience, I decided to submit my transfer paperwork to the College of Literary Studies. I will finish out this term at the Drama school regardless, in case some epiphany strikes me or I find I’m getting better. I intend to start the Literature program summer term so I do not fall too far behind my fellow sophomores. For now, I am going to focus on the drama path in order to give it a fair chance—two courses behind me are not enough for me to give up entirely.

This term it’s two modules in series 1003 and one in 1004: Elizabethan Language, Personal Dramatic Interpretation, and Elizabethan Stage. I’m rather nervous since expectations are higher, along with my responsibilities as part of a full cast. By the end of the term, we all need to agree on a play and enact our first complete performance on stage in front of a paid-for-ticket audience. Luckily, we do not choose our roles; our course instructor will hold auditions and assign characters. He will also take on the directorship of our production.

“Ace! We should dae
Hamlet
,” Alex said prematurely with beer in hand, as we all sat around our usual table at our regular drinking hole.

“That’s rather ambitious. Maybe we’d better wait to decide. We don’t want it to come off as a secondary school production,” Parker said rationally, looking around the table for consensus.

“I was thinking it would be way easier than summat else, fancy there are loads of movies we can watch,” Alex interjected again.

“I’m with Parker,” both Sima and I said simultaneously. We pointed at each other and said, “Jinx,” again together.

“It’s too soon to decide this the first day, mate. I say we decide once we’ve covered some of the other scripts in class.” Robert contributed.

“Mint point. Most of us covered
Hamlet
in secondary school, but it’s not the only option. We should squiz at other possibilities before going in there half-arsed,” Parker stated again.

“Oye! I think Alex’s idea is brill. I’d make a stonking Ophelia,” Mel said after we all agreed to wait before deciding. But it was true; Mel was the most natural actor of us all. She would probably get the lead female role, no matter what play we decided on.

“You’re probably right, but let’s all agree to wait before bringing this to Professor Clarke,” Parker closed the door on the idea for the moment and we all agreed, nodding.

Chapter Twenty-three

By heaven, it is as proper to our age

To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions

As it is common for the younger sort

To lack discretion.

—William Shakespeare,
Hamlet (2.1)

・
・
・

THE TERM SEEMED TO PASS IN A blink. We decided on staging
Hamlet
after all. Auditions had taken place and we were well into rehearsals with our performance scheduled for the last week of class. By now, my friends had all met my revelations—at first with confusion, then disbelief, and finally acceptance—and I was able to be myself. The truly wonderful realization was I never had to hear, “Wow, you look amazing,” or reply with my meek “thank you,” since my current companions had no frame of reference by which to bid me such a compliment. In my own confusion this never occurred to me, no one at school had known or seen the old me. I’d been carrying my self-image around with me as if both my older self and youthful one were standing side by side.

It hadn’t even struck me when Michael alluded to it in a previous conversation. With my blinders on, I skimmed over his comment. “I have new students every semester,” he said, And I assumed his case was vastly different from my own; anything he experienced did not apply to me.

In actuality, since my friends have known this me for months now, the biggest shock was in my being married—and for so long.

“Blow me, yer married?” Mel asked me while looking at Parker who was calmly reposed with his back up against the booth we were all congregated in.

“‘Blow me!’ Dang, I was not expecting that reaction,” I said taken aback.

“No. ‘Blow me’ means, ‘blow me down with a feather.’ Besides, I don’t hae a jolly wacker.” Mel clarified, laughing.

“Ah. I thought it was one of those strange Britishisms. To answer your question, yes. My husband stayed in Seattle. He’ll probably come here eventually, since it looks as if I’ll be in school for a while,” I explain.

“So, yer not gettin’ divorced?” she continued her interrogation.

“Mel, respectfully,
that
is none of your business,” I replied authoritatively, catching Sima’s smile after I’d made the comment.

“Makes more sense now, I thought ye might’ve gone to finishin’ school or sumfink,” Annabelle said.

“Do I really speak so differently?” I turned to her and asked. Parker had once said as much, too.

“No, ye just don’t sound like the Americans my age I’ve met. Yanks have their way of talkin’ with different slang, but they still talk the same way as us,” she said circling the rest of the group with a pointed finger.

“Right. No one else we know, except for you, says ‘respectfully’ for instance. We’d all just say, ‘What the boink, that's none of yer business,’” Sima said

“I see. No, no finishing school, we do call ‘primary-school,’ ‘grammar school’ though,” I said with a crooked grin.

“Is yer husband a lit major too? Is this why yer changin’ uni?” Robert asked.

“No. Michael is an art history professor,” I said, seeing how my appearance of being young might make them all think Michael was as young as well.

“That’s blooming ace!” Alex exclaimed, “Yer married to a prof!”

“I’m glad you’re impressed.” I envisioned Michael’s presence and it made me smile. He is professorial.

Every one of them, except Parker, had some input to provide. He wasn’t surprised and seemed well over the news by now. I was relieved. There didn’t seem to be a trace of bitterness on his side and I esteemed him even more for his maturity. In fact, Parker and Mel are dating now. I don’t know how that happened, apart from both being leads in the play. In my opinion, they make a disparate couple. Parker is refined, intelligent, and I’d thought not so easily wiled and Mel tended more toward coquettishness and artificiality. But who was I to point this out? Maybe it’s just women who can see this in other women. I know Sima and Annabelle would agree with my description, but when women voice these kinds of things, it’s always seen as cattiness and, therefore taken with a grain of salt. I’m sure if I voiced this to anyone, which I would only do to keep Parker from getting hurt, it would have come off as jealously since we dated. Especially since there was a minor point of contention for a while, which I could not and still am not able to ease. If my
jealously
got out, it wouldn’t help matters.

Mel was concerned Parker was still interested in me, being the reason we broke up was
only
that I was married, not actually, because Parker and I were no longer interested in one another. She asked me again in another, more conspiratorial moment if Michael and I had come to any understanding on whether we will remain separated, get divorced, or get back together. I was not able to set her mind at rest or further unease for that matter. However, she “supposed” our separation was acceptable so long as we stay married. I could have advised her that insecurities such as those did not bode well for a budding relationship, but this would probably have been overstepping the bounds. It might have been better received coming from anyone other than myself.

As the term wore on, I began to think Mel was sabotaging the relationship herself. Although Parker was young, he was also not the besotted type; I didn’t think he’d put up with it for long. Specifically, Mel needed to be present on all occasions and instances when he and I were both there as well. She also took it further by making sure he and I were never alone. If anyone felt it was necessary, it should have been Parker or myself. She often made several pointed entrances into conversations she was not previously engaged in, in order to referee any interaction between us. On one occasion, she mentioned she wasn’t going with us to lunch, having some errand she needed to run. Considering I was there and so was Parker, this act of trust was surprising to me (probably both of us).

“Should we all go to
that
creperie for lunch—Parker you know
the
one in Hampstead?” thinking nothing of it since I was asking the collective as a whole.

“Which one? Have we been there?” Mel asked Parker calculatingly, coming over and putting her arm through his.

“Sounds mint. Let’s go,” he said briefly, not acknowledging Mel’s question.

Uncomfortable for making Mel feel slighted I said, “Or maybe some place else? Maybe I’m a creperie novice.”

“I thought ye were going to come with me,” Mel interjected, looking up at him while keeping a possessive hold on his arm.

“No. I wasn’t planning on it. You don’t need me to come with you to return a pair of wellies; moreover, I would rather eat,” Parker said annoyed. “Let’s go.” He turned away and headed for the door.

The rest of us started to follow, except for Mel, who gave me one last
I told you
so look before saying, “I think I’d better come along with ye.”

I wasn’t going to take credit for this, as if I caused her to behave like a moron, “Mel that was all your doing. Don’t blame me for your actions. Do whatever you want, but I don’t think your coming is going to help.”

The little idiot did come though and I could see how short lived their relationship was going to be. No doubt, Mel was glad I was transferring out of the department; I just hoped that their relationship didn’t end before the term did. If so, she would blame me. I would probably not be seeing the collective as often as I did now, but we’d all become fast friends, no longer just classmates. I planned to keep in touch.

May 18, 2026

If I am proactive about school and career, I am the exact opposite when it comes to relationships. Over a month ago Miles and I planned to go out. I told him I would call him for a better time. I remember thinking we would meet within a week because I wanted to get it out of the way. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I hedge.

I don’t even know how I thought it would be, but when we saw each other yesterday, it was as if we were always only friends, and now so far removed from each other’s lives to the point of being mere acquaintances. Although, I’m sure this could be easily remedied if we wanted—the acquaintance part I mean.

He seemed to be the same as ever, charismatic but older, and he hadn’t aged badly. This much I can say for him. Long ago, there had been an invisible magnet that drew me to him and held me close. I didn’t experience a trace of it now. And he was surprised at my appearance. I could see this more in his facial expression than from what he said in his words. As I expected, he didn’t convey his surprise with the typical enthusiasms. He simply said, “You are the same as I remember you, lovely.” Ironically, without the ‘lovely’ this was fairly close to being an accurate statement.

We reminisced and, for some unknown reason, by the end of the evening I had confessed my dreams about that day on the mountain pass. Perhaps since there were no more feelings left between us to tarnish. He told me he was sorry for ever having given the impression he would have done me harm. He said he should have just been mature and let me go before it came to that level of negativity between us.

I accepted his apology by returning the honesty. I told him the distrust I felt toward the end had been an immature reaction more in line with feeling the relationship had run its course on his side rather than it being mutual.