"angel": "a supernatural spiritual being who, according to various religions, is God's servant."

Myra sent me an email asking me to call her. When I did, she asked me if I knew anything about an incident in the parking lot at the fights in Sperry involving fighting and shooting. I said I may have been in the parking lot at the time, and I remember hearing a gunshot.

Myra then explained some things to me that I did not completely know: that the fights were not an "official venue", that officially they did not happen, and certainly that there was no gambling. That what happened in Sperry was considered a "party"...that fighting did sometimes happen there, as does happen at parties with drinking, but not official or regulated fights, and if anyone bets on them it is not a part of the party.

She explained that the local police were aware there was sometimes a party there, but had an understanding about its terms. Husband later said it meant she had bribed the police. But this meant any official report that talked about the "fights at Sperry" tended to be treated differently than other reports.

She said that her men had heard a gunshot in the parking lot and had gone out to investigate. That they had found two men, one of whom had had his hand cut off. The hand was nearby, still holding a gun which had been recently fired. The men had claimed "Cat's Meow" had attacked them with a sword and that they had shot in self-defense, which did not make sense since the gun had to have been fired before the hand had been cut off. It also did not make sense where the sword had come from, since people at the "party" only ever saw "Cat's Meow" in an overcoat and a sports bra and shorts.

She said the men were persuaded not to go to the police with their story, since they would need to explain having shot at the woman, having approached the woman with guns at all, and having had guns at a "party", which was illegal in Oklahoma. Plus, Myra has respect for women in general and capable women in particular, and felt that men who assault women, especially with guns, especially in groups, deserve whatever happens to them. Husband shares this feeling, though for different reasons: "No one shoots at my wife!"

So the men, along with the hand but without the gun, were sent to a nearby clinic, having been told to tell a story about how the hand had been cut off. They were also told that they were no longer welcome at any business or "entertainment venue" that Myra managed, and that the community would be warned about them.

I said that there may have been two other injured men in the parking lot. Myra said she assumed they deserved their injuries too. But she said that it sounded like the Sperry "party" had gotten a bit dangerous, and that perhaps a proper woman like myself might want to avoid it for a while.

Between my pay from the fight and Husband's winnings from his wager, I think we have enough money for now. But perhaps it is not too soon to start looking for other fights, before, as Husband has said, I may be told to lose.

The clear prisms I ordered came today. They seem to be simple glass, so we should be able to write a recipe for them using silex. I was able to make a glamour prism using one of them and a steel ingot. This will give us more fashion options, especially as we make more everyday gear. I will glamour a beret to my headgear so it cannot be knocked off again.

Husband is close to finishing his bicycle. I think the airships we built in Eorzea were less work, though we had designs for those ready for us. The chain has been the most difficult part...so many little pieces, needing to be connected together, and only so many of them to make the chain the correct length. A second bicycle will be easier now that we have worked out so much, though I do not think I want to be a maker of bicycles.

But do I know what I want to be? People in this world seem to think of themselves as one thing, like a librarian or an electrician or a bartender. In Eorzea I was many things, as many things as I wanted to be. I am many things here. I do not think I want to be one thing. Perhaps I can make bicycles without being a bicycle maker. Perhaps I can bake pretzels and pies without being a baker. Though I do not know if I can bounce drunks without being a bouncer.

Husband has many names for us. I asked him how he remembers the names he uses, and he showed me the doc file he made. I asked why he used so many names rather than simply one. He told me it was to avoid "large patterns", that several people each doing one unusual thing was not as noticeable as two people doing several unusual things. No one need think that the Stan and Tina that made cornoline were also the Saul and Tammy who hunted gators.

But the names make me think I am many people rather than one person who does many things. I am Tsu'na, Baker of Pretzels and Pies, Maker of Bicycles, Builder of Sheds and Bouncer of Drunks. I am also Tina, Maker of Cornoline. I am Tammy, Ecotourist and Secret Hunter of Gators. I am Cat's Meow, Arena Fighter and Scourge of Bandits. I am Tanya, Ruiner of Striking Dummies. And now I am apparently Tabitha, Wife of an Angel.

Wikipedia says an angel is a supernatural spiritual being who works as God's servant. We did work for Hydaelyn in Eorzea, but I do not think we were or are supernatural spiritual beings. If Earth is a god, we have not met her yet and do not work for her. But the people at Murray's think Husband is an angel, and therefore I am an angel's wife.

Which of those is me? Are they all me?

Which one is real?

Am I real?

Why do I keep asking that?

Husband has said, "You're as real as I am." He has said it many times. Yet he holds me so tightly sometimes, as if he is afraid I would go away. Though I sometimes hold him as tightly, and I am not sure why. Am I afraid he would go away? Or that I would?

Perhaps Husband does not know whether he himself is real.

But assuming we are real, we are people that do things. We are not one thing in this world, any more than we were one thing in Eorzea. We were fishers and miners and weavers and armorers and alchemists and cooks. We were warriors and archers and conjurers and samurai. And we are all of those things in this world. And we are lovers and eaters and readers and shoppers and explorers.

And perhaps that is as real as we need to be.

For a while, at least, I am not Cat's Meow. We finally finished paying Leon in cornoline, so I am not Tina. Hunting gators was fun, but it was a long trip, so for now I am not Tammy. We might never see Master Shen again, so perhaps I will never again be Tanya. I do not know when I might need to be Tabitha, but not today; Husband is too busy working on his bicycle to be an angel. Unless making bicycles is a thing angels do.

I am typing this in the library, so perhaps I will be a reader.

The children have noticed me. I suppose I will be a storyteller.