VALE REDUX

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Ben pulled to a stop at the back stairwell, and the engine grew steadily louder, every moment that he idled, with the RPMs building, like the turbofans of an Airbus poised for takeoff, because the butterfly valve in the sixty year old carburetor was sticking again.

Zoey tossed her fully laden backpack into the bed of the truck and hopped into the cab so Ben could shift the foolish thing into first gear before the engine could explode.

As they pulled out Ben glanced over his shoulder at the rear window overlooking the truck bed and said, "Couldn't help but notice you packed your life's possessions."

"Nothing like. I brought my tent, a stove, some freeze-dried soup, and a change of clothes. As our Quileute tour guide advised. Just in case this morning trek turns into a multi-day expedition. I've also packed ninety meters of rope and an assortment of chocks and cams."

"What? No free-soloing today?"

She laughed gaily at that and said, "Hell, no. Ben, I know it's been only two months since my birthday, but there's no way I could do El Cap this morning. People in Forks love to eat."

"Nothing better to do," he concurred.

"Sara Newton has fattened me up for slaughter," Zoey fretted.

He glanced skeptically at her wiry, sharply muscled frame and burst out laughing.

She glowered at him and insisted, "I'm serious, Mr. Swan. I'll have you know, my free-solo heroics just might be over. My body has conspired a mutiny against my brain and entered a new phase. I finally got my scarlet letter."

He frowned quizzically, as he pulled out onto the road.

She explained, "My period."

"Oh! Okay. Well, I didn't know that was a question mark. And I didn't realize things with Chief Jacob were going that well."

Zoey gagged and shook her head at the hopeless density of boys' brains. "No, Ben," she managed, when she recovered. "You misunderstand. I mean, I got my first period ever."

"Ahh," he said, soberly. "Well, I... don't know what to say. What's appropriate for this occasion? Congratulations?"

Zoey shrugged. "As good as anything. Kira was relieved to hear it yesterday, when she called me at your house and I broke the news that I've finally hit menarche. I'm eighteen. That makes me a statistical outlier. She'd been telling Casimir that she suspected I was born without ovaries."

Ben clinically provided, "You've been trying to slow down and be sluglike this summer. I guess you succeeded at that, and your body leapt on the opportunity to play catch-up. It's actually not too surprising that it took this long. They say that a delay in puberty is common for super-athletes."

"That's what my physician told Kira this spring. But I'm no super-athlete. I'm just Zoey."

"You know, this essentially means you've earned five or six years of extended youth. You'll be fertile into your fifties."

"Yay."

He chuckled at her and had a new thought. "I don't suppose you've talked to Jake about this stuff."

Zoey scoffed, "Right. As if I could talk about my menstrual cycle with a boy." Then she glanced at him and gulped. She quietly added. "You're different. You're a boy; I know that. A man, in fact. But there's nothing I can't tell you."

"Evidently."

"Besides, things aren't exactly hunkydory with Chief Jacob. Last night I tried to let the poor boy down gently."

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