The dress is a puddle on the floor like I stole some of the sky and dropped it on the floor. I leave it sitting there, representing an evening of failure. My evening of failure. I failed this time. I failed to enlighten people to my way of thinking.

A knock on my door. I should go get it. “One minute!”

Grabbing the dressing gown sitting on my bed, I pull it on over my head and go to the door. Do I want company?

The knob is cold and unwelcoming under my hand as I turn it and let the door slink open.

Patrick with his brown hair in messy waves and smelling of alcohol is standing at my door. He is still in his fancy suit, but it is rumpled and wrinkled now.

“Care to talk?” He gives me a half smile, a sardonic self-defacing type of smile. What does he want?

Nodding I step back, allowing him to enter my space. He closes my door, grabs my wrist, and pulls me toward the balcony. “Come stand in the air with me. It will feel good.”

I have no idea what he is talking about. It has to be late now, I don’t even really know how long that miserable ball went on for. I was just happy when Patrick came and told me it was time to go home.

He pulls open the a door in the windows of my room and then leads me out onto the balcony.

“I used to come out here, as a kid, when no one was staying in this room.”

He releases my wrist, and slides down along one of the windows.

I don’t know what else to do, so I sit down next to him. He obviously wants to talk to me.

“Are you happy here? No, that’s a stupid question of course you aren’t happy. No one is ever happy no matter where they are in life. I wish for something real. For something other than these fake faces and these fancy costume balls. What else is there? Can there be more in my life? I long for excitement, for another world, for magic.” He looks directly at me as he says this.

Is he hinting he was looking for me? Was he watching for the world to change? Does her desire my power or my ideas?

“You want to take my memories don’t you? I can completely understand that. Who wouldn’t when they had power the way you have power. I’m sorry if I am being a little candid. I think I’m a little drunk.” He laughs.

Yes, yes, I think he is drunk. Very drunk.

“I would never take your memories. You are my benefactor and the one who will help me change the world without violence.”

His laughter is biter and self-effacing. “You would never take my memories! Please, don’t insult me like that. I already know you better than that. You will do whatever it takes to reach your goals.”

“You are on my side, so why would I want or need to take your memories? You promised to help me didn’t you?” Why is he so convinced that I will take his memory.

“You know, I have a good mind for strategy. I’ve seen a couple courses of action to reach your goal, taking into account your strong personality, and most of my scenarios end up with you taking over the government in frustration, and to do this you will take my memory.”

He chuckled as if this was amusing. “You will have no reason to take my memory, not really, but your personality and your own belief that you know the right course of action. You’ll come up with a reason, not a good reason, but you will come up with one, and then you will steal my memory away. I’ve already figured out a couple reasons. I was an idiot to bring you into my home, but I would have been even more of an idiot to leave you out on the streets. You would have started an actual revolution instead of taking over from within the system. Of course, that could still happen…”

“What the hell are you talking about?” It sounds as if he knows exactly what I will do and what will happen. Does he have foreknowledge of the future or something? Some ability to see into the future?

“My dear, I am an excellent strategist. The only reason my father has stayed in office is due to my help. Actions of individuals give me an idea of the paths they will take. Knowing them personally gives me an even uncanny idea of the paths of the future. It’s almost like I can see a couple different paths into the future.”

What a strange idea, being able to predict the future based on the personalities and actions of individuals. “You can’t predict everything can you? Sometimes people surprise you, don’t they?”

He shrugs, “Sometimes, rarely. I think the real problem here that is if you continue to try and work in the system without using your powers you will live, but you won’t be happy. You’ll never be able to force the old men to listen to you. If you take everyone’s memories except mine, I would be forced to stop you based on my conscious. I would bring you down, and you would end up in prison. If you take my memories, you would cause change. You would change this world, though it might be at the cost of your own life, but you would still change this world. So your options are end up unhappy or end up dead. From your own lack of care for yourself and your extreme altruistic feelings toward others, you will chose to take my memories on the slim chance that you will win better conditions for the people in the city.”

I shake my head. “No. I will not do that. I will convince those old men to listen to me. You can only guess at the future, you don’t know it for certain.”

He shrugs again, “I don’t care what you think. I just have some requests for when, if, you take my memories.”

I nod. It can’t hurt me to listen to these requests incase his predictions come true.

“First, if you take my memories, please, take Azaleas memories, and convince me that I love my wife and that she loves me. Maybe with a blank slate we can end up happier never knowing that we are a political couple.”

It made sense, and taking memories was energizing. It was different from expending the energy of memories.

“Second, when you take my memories, remember that I am a great reader of people and a good strategist. Keep me by your side to help you, and convince me that it was my own decision and idea to erase my memories. I might be able to keep you alive and help you change the city.”

I nod again. Of course I would keep him with me if he was an asset. If I ended up taking his memories, he really would be a genius strategist, and I would not be able to do anything except keep him next to me.

“And third, if you have to give me back my memories because I need them to figure out the situation at hand, which might happen, please, understand that I will be angry. I will probably hate you for taking my memories and using me, but I will continue to help you. I will already be in a situation in which I have seemed like your staunchest supporter from the beginning, so logic says that I will continue.”

He is strangely coherent for a drunken man. Way too introspective for someone as drunk as he seems.

“So, do we have a deal? If you take my memories you will do these three things for me?” His eyes are searching my face, looking for something.

I nod, “Sure. I don’t think I will take your memories, but if I do I will do this for you. You seem too thoughtful for a man supposedly very drunk.”

He looks satisfied by whatever he was looking for and leans back against the window with his eyes close.

“I pretend to be more drunk than I am. No, I guess that’s not exactly right. It has also been a little while since I last had a drink. It still affect me, do you think I would candidly talk about you taking my memories when completely sober?”

No, he does seem a little loser lipped than normal. He hasn’t mentioned his “views” of the future before.

He stands up pushing himself up off the balcony floor. “I should leave you to your sleep. You will need to go get suits tailored for you tomorrow for your meeting with the Virginia House of Delegates in three days.”

He leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Goodnight, little princess.”

And then he is gone leaving me out on the windy cold balcony. I have a nagging feeling that he might be right, and your worried look tells me that you agree with me. What is going to happen to me and this world?