Mostly Reeny and Pam, somewhat Loulou

Pamela and Reeny redux.

Reeny isn’t actually all that interested in science or mathematics – she is “good” at math. Really what Reeny wants is to make things with yarn. Clothing of course. She’s been knitting and crocheting since she was only eight. But clothing – except when it’s for one of her constructions – doesn’t quite fill the urge. Her constructions vary. Sometimes it will be a box, with figures inside. She’ll dress the figures even when they aren’t human, even when their agency is compromised. She knit a mountain last month, and she has started to realize that constructing shapes is the most fun.

What she liked best about clothes was knitting in the round. That just worked specially. It has occurred to her that fine lace could be an interesting arena for working out representations of emotions. Maybe a good arena for topology.

Topology is the part of mathematics she actually likes of course. Some times an approach to a problem plays itself to her. When it does, she listens inwardly and tries to capture the sounds. They describe shapes and surfaces.

Pam wants to be a vet, or a dolphin, or a singer … or or or. The harbor school, with its emphasis on marine biology iniatially will seem perfect. The intense scrutiny of the teachers, combined with the isolation, will leave her believing – at least for a little while – that she simply has to stick with marine biology.

Later, in college, she’ll fall in love with proteins. She’ll start talking to Reeny, who will laugh about the ability they both have to perceive structure.

Later still, she’ll do doctoral and post-doctoral work in Melbourne. The whole time she’ll be seeing dolphins’ and orcas’ DNA. But she’ll be composing protein structure. She will more and more dream in shapes and not images. Her shapes are a language of protein structure.

When their mother comes to pick them up.

“Ma – ” Pamela is sure that her mother will help with the dog. “Ma – we have to keep him. We’ve got to!l”

“His name is Lou-Lou and he’s friendly,” chimed in Reeny.

The dog padded over to her. He leaned into her leg.

She reached down to his chin. He gave a sigh and seemed to melt.

“Ok ok we’ll try him.”

“He isn’t Hachi” Reeny said. “Nothing at all like that. “

“Hachi wasn’t so healthy,” her mother smiled. All we can do is try.

The cops are confused by an old woman, apparently complete healthy, who landed on a tree.

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