Vega: Thanks for sitting down with me, Lynn.
Lynn: You’re in my head, so if I’m sitting down, you’re pretty much sitting down.
Vega: Okaaay. You said something like that last time we ran into each other. Didn't understand it then; don't understand it now. Let’s skip over that for now. I know you’re a private person, so I’m very happy that you’ve agreed to this interview.
Lynn: Uh-huh. Just get on with it.
Vega: I’m writing a follow-up series of articles on several of the couples I wrote about before and adding some new stories as well. I’ll start like I usually do. How did you meet your partner?
Lynn: Wait, what? You can’t just go off script like that. You’re supposed to say what I think you should say. I invented you.
Vega: What are you talking about? You can’t invent a person.
Lynn: You’re a character!
Vega: Thanks. My parents always encouraged me to be my own person. I’ll take that as a compliment.
Lynn: No, no—
Vega: Back to my earlier question. Where did you meet?
Lynn: Meet who?
Vega: What do you think we’re here to talk about?
Lynn: Are you trying to anger me?
Vega: I do like to irk people, but I’m really just trying to get your story.
Lynn: I write stories. You’re one of my stories.
Vega: Are you confusing me with someone else?
Lynn: I swear, if I believed in possessing guns, I’d pull one on you right now.
Vega: I’m not a fan of guns, either. My partner’s a former police detective, so I’ve had to get over that since there’s a gun in our house. I try not to think about it, but at least she’s qualified to keep it and use it if she has to.
Lynn: I’m aware of that because I invented her as well.
Vega: I think you have an overinflated sense of self.
Lynn: I have an overinflated sense of something, that’s for sure.
Vega: Your partner? If we could get back to that.
Lynn: If I had a partner—and I’m not confirming or denying that—I would not discuss it with someone like you who’d just turn around and share it with the world. No, just no.
Vega: Then why the hell did you ever agree to this interview?
Lynn: I didn’t. You’re. In. MY. HEAD! This shit just happens when I’m left alone for even a few minutes and start thinking about anything. You all just pop into my head and have voices and thoughts and actions, and it’s truly annoying. So stop it. Stop this. I’m not answering anything else. If there was a pool nearby, I’d shove you into it to end this imaginary soap opera fight.
Vega: Daytime drama.
Vega: They call them daytime dramas now, and there aren’t very many—Who are you calling?
Lynn: A contractor to build me a pool. Can you stick around for a while? I’d like the satisfaction of shoving you into it when it’s done. It’s the only acceptable way for two women to fight in a soap.
Lynn: Say it, and I’ll borrow someone else’s pool.
Vega: Wow, okay. I think there’s something wrong with you. State mental hospital something wrong, is what I’m saying. I can drive you. Wait, no I can’t; Lane’s got my car today. I’ll call Iris. She won’t mind. The "hospital" is fairly close. Tacoma, I think. Won’t take but a half hour to get there and a few minutes to have you voluntarily commit—uh, cared for.
Lynn: Why do I do this to myself? My characters should like me. I’ve created them. They shouldn’t be snarky assholes to me.
Vega: If you’re hearing voices, that’s okay. You just need to stay calm. Let’s make a call and get into a nice car and take a little drive. I’ll bring refreshments. It’ll be fun.
Vega: Yes, Lynn?
Lynn: Shut your mouth hole.
Vega: Well...that’s not very productive.
Lynn: I’m going to purposefully think about one of my other characters now so I can end this.
Vega: I don’t see how that can help.
Lynn: Jessie? No, she’ll just make me do something active. Glory? No, she’ll make me look at spreadsheets. Skye? Yes, we can visit her sheep or something. Unless she has some sort of work crisis at the TV station to deal with. Hmm, someone else. M? Yes, M. It’s always so peaceful and quiet with M.
Vega: Perhaps it’s not schizophrenia. It sounds more like you have dissociative identity disord—
Lynn: Hey, M. Let’s just sit here and be quiet for a while.
Lynn: I knew I could count on you.
© 2016 by Lynn Galli