Peggy The Great: Chapter 6

“I’ve never dated anybody before. No one. Fawkes is the first person I’ve been in a relationship with.” Peggy said.

Dr. Good gave her a good long stare before replying. “...But you’re not a lesbian. So you don’t like Fawkes like that.” He pointed out.

Peggy shook her head. “No, not at all. Not even as a friend, really.” She said.

“Well then why are you dating her if you don’t like her? It doesn’t take a therapist to notice something wrong with that.” He replied.

“I’m...doing it for Riley. Riley wanted me to do this for her as a favor and as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.” Peggy shot back.

“I see...” Dr. Good said. It had been a few more days since her first date with Fawkes. Peggy was back in the Therapy room with Dr. Good. As she sat on the couch, she tried to get comfortable while recollecting the events that had taken place since then. Riley made Fawkes and Peggy hang out a few times since that date, and they had gotten a chance to talk more. But the friendly exchange hadn’t done much but show more proof that Peggy and Fawkes just weren’t compatible at all. Peggy explained to Dr. Good everything that she was feeling. She knew that Dr. Barnabus would call what she was doing “complaining” but Dr. Good seemed to be very open to listening to her problems. For the most part, his input was little and he only had a few things to say which mostly were open ended questions that prompted Peggy to complain some more.

He reclined in his chair, watching Peggy with eyes shadowed by his growing white bangs. Despite his perfectly bleached hair, his skin was completely unwrinkled, giving Peggy the impression that he had a thing for hair dye. In his hand he held a green apple, and proceeded to take a bite out of it before going on. “But like I said, you’re not a lesbian. You aren’t dating Fawkes so much as hanging out with her to pacify Riley.” He pointed out.

After a moment of thinking, Peggy agreed. “I guess...” She murmured.

“But despite claiming to be heterosexual, could you ever see yourself loving a woman?” He asked casually, waiting patiently for her response.

At first, Peggy thought that was an easy question, but after thinking on it, she wasn’t so sure. She had no sexual desire for any woman she had ever met. In her mind, Peggy could picture the perfect woman easily: wonderful well shapen body with ample bosom, nice face, long gorgeous hair, and well defined legs. But she only knew that because she had seen that kind of girl in every magazine she had ever read and in every movie her Mother had let her watch. Still, she didn’t feel anything for those women besides maybe envy. Then again, love was a strange thing: you never knew who you were going to fall in love with.

“Hmm...I don’t know. Maybe. But I definitely couldn’t see myself loving Fawkes.” She replied.

Dr. Good seemed satisfied with that answer. He went on, asking about what spending time with Fawkes was like. Peggy explained all the bizarre ideologies she followed and how it seemed like she read internet forums rather religiously, causing her to develop her own wikipedia of issues that weren’t really issues paired with problems that weren’t really problems regarding aspects of the world. One of the biggest differences between Peggy and Fawkes was how they viewed dating. “From what we’ve talked about so far, you haven’t really striked me as being a ‘romantic.’ But surely you have an image of the perfect relationship. What do you find romantic?” He asked.

Peggy was hesitant at first. This kind of stuff was off limits to pretty much everybody. She felt like divulging her inner thoughts only made people uncomfortable, though she couldn’t prove that since she practically never talked to people about what she was really thinking. So she was reluctant at first but eventually Dr. Good coaxed her into talking a bit about her own romantic desires.

“Well...when it comes to fantasizing, I’ve always been a big fan of cliches. There’s just something about the old school hackneyed ways of showing love that I just adore. You know, like kissing in a tree and bringing a girl flowers. I used to daydream about a handsome man who would do that kind of thing for me.” She said.

After looking back up at Dr. Good, she immediately felt herself blush. She looked away in anguish. “I know, I know. I must sound so boring when I say that. I will understand if you think I’m kind of tasteless...” she said.

To her surprise, he replied with a chuckle. “No, I think it’s fine. We all have our own image of what romance is, Peggy. To you, it’s just the simple gestures of kindness that are enough for you. With my limited understanding of psychology, I could probably assume those fantasies stem from just being deprived of men in your life anyway. No father, no male friends, a brother you don’t see for most of the day, I can understand where these desires, no matter how vanilla, would come from. The question is: have you told Fawkes about these fantasies of yours?” He asked, leaning forward in his seat as he rested his arms on the desktop.

Peggy grimaced at the thought of what that conversation might be like and looked away. “No, she’d probably just call me unoriginal. And then ignorant for some reason. Like I had no respect for women and I was living in the past. But she’s into weird things too. She told me that she likes it when guys wear thongs. She said that it was the perfect example of ‘mutual gender understanding.’ I’m pretty sure that it’s not, but when I told her that, she told me that I didn’t know anything about dating since I had never dated before.” She replied.

“I don’t necessarily agree with that either. Sometimes people learn the most about dating from the outside. I’ve been around enough couples to learn the common occurrences that take place in a mutual bond. Anyway, besides that, what is your perfect man like? What comes to mind when you think of your knight in shining armor?” He asked.

Peggy blushed a bit, unsure of how to answer him. “Uh...unfortunately that is what I think of. A knight in shining armor would be the perfect man. Someone who would come to rescue me and we could ride off into the distance together. I know that it sounds really cheesy but...how often do relationships in this world end with a happily ever after? I think that’s what we all would want, regardless of who we date.” She said.

Dr. Good only closed his eyes and nodded. The young girl suddenly felt compelled to go on.

“My favorite story from when I was a kid was the old story of the princess who was stuck in the tower and the knight who came and saved her. I always loved that story. Not because the woman is trapped, but because someone comes to free her. It was always the Queen who put the princess in the tower and trapped her there. But a man fought valiantly against a dragon, risking his life, to take her away from the cold solitude of the castle and carry her off into the sunset. She got her freedom and her happily ever after. Not a bad way to live a life.” Peggy explained.

The Doctor opened his eyes and gave her another smile: the kind he does when he’s about to challenge the way she views the world. “But we don’t know what happens after they ride off into the sunset. What if the Knight is just rescuing her from one tower so he can take her and put her in another tower?” He asked.

Peggy thought about it, and at first she tried to think of a reply. This was one of the many times she really wished that she had an answer, but she didn’t. “I...I hadn’t thought of that. I guess as a kid I always thought that knights were supposed to save people, not hurt them.” She said.

Dr. Good only shrugged. “In the end, Knights are just soldiers with a code of chivalry. We often times romanticize them as being heroes, but in real life, they weren’t much different than an american infantrymen, other than having swords instead of guns of course. They followed the orders of a king, and if he wanted the princess for himself, the knights were obliged to bring him what he wanted. So as I say to you: don’t wait for a knight, escape the tower on your own terms first. The last thing you need is to feel like you owe someone for getting you out of a situation that you could have gotten out of yourself.” He said.

The Sophomore soaked in his words. She had never talked to anybody about these thoughts: maybe this was something that other people might say. She didn’t have a clue though, but she could understand his point. Though, despite the truth of his words, it was a difficult task to escape a tower. Especially when both the queen and the dragon are your mother, or at least they are in Peggy’s case.

Dr. Good took one last bite of his apple and tossed it into the trashcan next to him. “Anything else? What are Susan and Quinn like? You don’t talk about them much.” He noted.

“I don’t really have much to say about them. Quinn is quiet and Susan is usually preoccupied. I know that they don’t hang around me for me. They hang around Riley because there’s just something about her that makes them stay. She’s...well...she’s...hmm...” Peggy lost her train of thought towards the end as she felt a sharp pain in her foot.

The Doctor noticed her hesitation. “Something wrong?” He asked.

She groaned a bit, looking down at her aching feet. She had hoped that by wearing Bliss Kicks all week that she’d have gotten use to them by now, but they still didn’t fit right. In fact, they felt like they had somehow morphed in such a way that they grew more uncomfortable with each step. It was hard enough hiding them from her Mother, but Riley seemed to want Peggy to wear them so she did. “It’s...it’s nothing. Mind if I...take off my shoes? My feet kinda hurt.” She said.

“Of course. This is a Therapy session, after all. You should be as comfortable as possible.” He replied.

She thanked him and pulled her shoes off, grimacing as they tightly gripped her heel before she could apply enough strength to pop them off. Her feet immediately felt better without the plastic restraints, and she simply tossed the pink shoes off to the side. Out of curiosity, Dr. Good happened to glance over at them lying against the wall.

“Wow, what in the world are those things?” He asked, chuckling a bit.

“Oh, the shoes? Those are called ‘Bliss Kicks.’ Apparently they are all the rage now.” Peggy answered.

He continued to analyze the shoes. “You know, I may have the fashion sense of Mark Twain, but I can say with full confidence that those shoes are hideous. Who would ever put those things on?” The Doctor asked.

“Apparently everybody my age. Riley, Quinn and Susan all wear them. Practically ever other girl at my school. Some boys wear them too. The only people I can think of that don’t wear them are my Mother, George, Fawkes and...you. Mother doesn’t even know about them, George can’t find a pair to fit his feet, and Fawkes doesn’t like them because she doesn’t like anything mainstream.” Peggy said.

He scratched his chin in thought. “Fads always seem strange to me. You never know what people are going to like. I still remember when wearing rubber bands on your wrists was the cool thing to do. Cool until you got marks on your wrists that looked like someone had tied you up in their basement.” He said.

Peggy pondered his words, and a thought occurred to her. Feeling more comfortable to ask him questions now then she had in past sessions, she forwarded the thought to the Doctor. “Wait, but you’re part of the Light and the Light controls the world. Wouldn’t the Light decide what the passing fads are?” She asked.

He shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I’m afraid not. We may have power over governments and media, maybe even a little bit of the culture, but not the interests of individuals. Fads occur at random and due to social networks of people, they spread like wildfire until many people are involved in what was originally never anticipated to be as big as it became. Everyone wants to be a part of the majority: it’s in our nature. Even Fawkes, your friend who feels like she’s too righteous to follow the Crowd. She’s just following the crowd of people who feel they are too righteous to be a part of the majority. We can’t control their minds; tell them what to think is cool and what isn’t. We can, however, influence people through the use of media and propaganda. But even then, it’s the individual’s decision to believe what they read in the papers or see on television.” He explained.

The Media did have power, Peggy thought. Often times she sat on the couch with her mother and Big Brother during the evening to watch the News. It was the only TV programming she was really allowed to see anyway. Despite her living in Washington D.C, the capital of the free world, there was never any news that was happening in the town: everything that was news worthy seemed to be happening in some other part of the world far, far away. It had occurred to Peggy not too long ago that the Light probably called the shots on what information made it into National News, and she took that into consideration from then on. But do they really influence the local news too? Of every city? Peggy wasn’t sure, but before she could ask about it, Dr. Good proposed to her another question.

“What I want to know is: what do you think about the shoes, Ms. Sovereign?” he asked.

She casted a glance over at the pink abominations over by the wall. Even looking at them made her feet hurt. But when she thought about what they meant to her, she could only see Riley’s smiling face. Of the few things that made Peggy happy, that was one of them. So she was cautious about her answer. “Uh...they’re...okay. Riley says that they are the big thing now and I mean, Riley knows a lot about fashion. Maybe there is something about them that I’m missing. Maybe they’re all artsy and they say something about culture or whatever...” She mumbled.

This time, the good Doctor wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He sat up in his seat, his Light bulb necklace bouncing around a bit as his position suddenly shifted. “No, I don’t care what your friend thinks about it. I want to hear what YOU, the future leader of the world, has to say about shoes. Be honest with my Peggy: you have nothing to gain from holding back.” He said.

She was quiet: a storm cloud growing in her head. Of course, Riley’s smile still stuck out in her mind. But then slowly, the memory of the past week that she had worn them and how her feet never stopped hurting, even long after she had taken them off. Socks only made her feet feel more suffocated so she often wore them barefoot, so it was just her soft feet against the hard, cold plastic. Even now, she could look down and see the purplish splotches on the knuckles of her toes where the membrane-like covering of the shoes had been weighing down with each step, practically crushing her little digits. Every day for more than a week. Suddenly, Riley’s smile wasn’t enough to sooth her frustration. So she opened up, and thoughts just suddenly came out of her.

“I hate them. I absolutely hate them. I really want to be more fashionable because I think it’ll mean I will have more friends. But if it means wearing those disgusting shoes, I’m all too happy to pass up on them.” She replied.

The Doctor only replied with a simple “mmm...hmm...”

Peggy felt a sudden surge of anger that pushed her to go on. And having Dr. Good’s attention, she decided to keep talking. So she looked up at his eyes and told him what she really thought.

“In fact, I think they shouldn’t exist at all. How many girls feel like they are forced to wear these shoes so that they can be more popular? So that they can somehow be more attractive with these shoes that look like you’re wearing a baby’s brain on your feet? Walking around all day like that, their feet just getting beat up and bruised beyond repair. Nobody should have to deal with that. Nobody. These shoes aren’t just tasteless, they’re a crime. Immoral and completely pointless. If the company had any sense, they’d take every product off the shelves right now, melt them all down, and use them to...I don’t know...built a statue to commemorate the death of the Bliss Kicks forever. I guarantee you that if they just disappeared, nobody would care. I bet Riley doesn’t even care about them, she just cares about fashion. Because fashion relates to being pretty. You can’t be pretty without being fashionable in this society, apparently. But you know what sure isn’t pretty? Mutilated feet! That’s what!” She spat out, visible particles of saliva flying out into the open air.

Dr. Good only stared quizzically at her. He didn’t say anything, and it was difficult to tell how he felt about what she just said. Immediately, the young girl regretted it. I shouldn’t have let myself blow up like that, she thought. It felt like something that Fawkes would do: carelessly spouting off her own views without a care for what the other person felt. With that in mind, she wondered how the Doctor was going to respond. So there was an awkward pause in the room where they just stared at each other, trying to figure the other person out. The only sound was the constant, wing-like beat of the overhead fan.

Finally, after a long silence, Dr. Good slowly stood up from his chair with a sigh. “Well, I can say that this has been quite the therapy session. I’m glad that we could have gotten some things off our chest. I think we’re making progress here.” he said as he walked around the desk towards Peggy.

She just sat there on the couch, frozen. He calmly walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the feeling of his touch: it was the first time he had ever made physical contact with her. She could feel the coldness of his fingers through her white shirt. At first, she wondered why his fingers were so cold and what that said about him. Then she noticed her hands felt cold too: it must have just been the temperature of the room.

He looked down at her with compassionate eyes and his trademark smile. “I’ve been thinking lately: how about we start meeting some time outside of Therapy? After all: you can’t learn how to rule the world within 30 minutes every Thursday. I’d like to spend Therapy talking about your own personal problems and maybe outside of these sessions, we can talk more about the Light and your place in it.” He said.

Peggy wasn’t sure what to say, but she agreed in a strange way. She replied with a simple nod.

“Alright, how about you meet me next saturday at the Smithsonian Museum of World History? They say that those who don’t study the past are doomed to repeat it. And I’ll have to admit that I happened to thumb through your grades at your school and discovered that you’re not doing so well in History class. This could be a good way to get some perspective, don’t you think?” He asked.

The thought of seeing Dr. Good outside of Therapy felt foreign to her, but it had happened to her before. He was there at the coffee shop last week, so it wasn’t like he never showed his face in public. The only issue would be in talking to her mother about it, but she was sure that she could make something up. This was important: so far she hadn’t quite learned much about what it was like to be a member of the Light, and this was a good chance. Especially with the time restrictions lifted and a good setting to discuss human civilization. But still, even now the thought of ruling the world felt like a fever dream to her. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the steps that it would take, the events that would occur for that to become a reality.

She couldn’t even say “no” to a girl just two years older than her. How was she going to lead a unified nation that covered the entire planet? But she knew that if anybody could get her there, it was Dr. Good. But it was going to take time. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Peggy wasn’t going to learn how to be a leader in 30 minutes.