“A Meal of Secrets”

The spiller touched the card with a fingertip three times, then asked, "What does the tee stand for?"
Praxis smiled and said, "Transcendent."
The spill shrugged and pocketed the card and sat down. "I've never done this before."
"You're not alone."
"I'll bet you hear that a lot."
Praxis saw then the spill had begun, so nodded instead of replying in words.
"If I could go back in time and tell myself I'd be here today, I'd probably knock my own teeth out."
"Ouch."
"Not literally, of course. But I'd beat myself up about it."
Praxis took a sip of tea. "That what's happening now?"
The spiller chuckled. "I guess it is. My sister went in for secrets."
"Oh?"
"Yeah."
"And she's still with us?"
Another chuckle, this one heartier, from the belly a bit. "Yes, she's good. Got rid of that notch who beats her. Beat her."
Tension along the mouth. Tightness back at the eyes.
"Oh, dear," Praxis said.
Some lightness in the mouth, fake smile.
"Good riddance, right?"
Praxis smiled, sadly.
"I mean, those kids ain't gonna have a father now. I mean ..." hand out, meant to reassure, "father was a woman, too, but I'm okay with that. That wasn't the problem. The hitting was the problem."
"Yes, that's a big problem."
"Yeah, so ..." Thin line of tears, crack in the voice as real sadness is reached. "And you can't hit a lady."
"You couldn't protect your sister, you mean."
He nodded, crying, then sobbing.
Praxis ate the sadness, chewed the secret that this man felt, and said, "It's okay to feel this. Anyone would. You can let it out here."
And so he did, filling the space with more secrets, more untold truths and past pains. Praxis ate them all up, and the man left clear, empty of that weight.
Clade walked in, chewing gum.
Praxis smiled. "Hello, dear. I have something for you."
In a small black box, was a key. Praxis took the key, gave it to Clade, who turned it one way then the other, chewing and chewing the gum.
"Ono neto gontobo, azara azara," Praxis said. A long plume of smoke came from each nostril, filling the room and hanging heavy on the air. "Cogonum etu. Jabuza."
Clade smiled, blew a bubble, popped it. He tossed the key in the air, caught it, then put his closed fist over his heart, and left.
Praxis sat in the smoke with legs crossed on the floor.
"Azzajahna, mesophita donah. Omeno. Omeno."