Destinations

     I hated geography. I could sit in a classroom all day and I would not learn how the indigenous people of Bolivia lived day to day nor where they were located. This reluctance was shared by a majority of the class but we endured.
     One of those endured sessions found us coloring and labeling a map of South America. Coloring a map was a leave to socialize in the classroom. Our teacher sat behind her desk pouring over a novel and leafing the pages while she ignored our rising voices. This was busy work but it was enjoyable busy work.
     Hung, a young Chinese boy who sat ahead of me, turned with a worried look behind his glasses and asked me with a plea in his voice, "The girls want to play Truth or Dare. Do you want to play?" He subtlely nodded to me.
    We were fresh teenagers in the confusing grip of middle school trying to figure out who we were. Playing games like Truth or Dare with girls was intensly scary and infinetly alluring. I agreed, wondering what questions I would be asked and which I wanted to be asked as I chose a dark green pencil to shade in the Pacific Ocean.
     Stacy's head appeared between the rows with a mischievious grin spread from ear to ear hidden beneath a mane of wirey and wild brown hair. Her light brown eyes still gleamed from behind the tangled mess. Fear seized me as I thought about the questions and things I didn't want asked of me. I froze in the middle of shading Argentina orange.
     "Who else is playing?" I asked nervously.
     "You, me, Hung," she motioned to the next row, "Lisa and Stephanie."
     Lisa was big for her age, her dirty blonde hair covered much of her wide back. She was not fat to the point of ridicule but she was large. Larger than both Hung and myself. She smiled at us and we smiled back. Hung timidly fixed his glasses on his nose and I hoped that I wouldn't be dared to kiss Lisa.
     The other girl, Stephanie, was a transfer student like me. She was a ghostly white and her hair a contrasted deep brown. Here eyes a light hazel that shyly looked over at me and Hung. She smiled. I hadn't formed an opinion of her but since I was a young shy boy, her proximity terrified me. This showed as a deep blush as I looked away from her friendly smile and filled Chile with a burgundy center.
     Stacy, enjoying her ringleader position, began listing off rules. There were no dares that involed something that would get us in trouble, "Only reprimanded." she added. Truths, of course, had to e answered truthfully. Nothing was sacred and anything could be asked. We began.
     After a series of ridiculous dares that involved loud animal noises and strange interations with other students, we had begun to draw some negative attention. Our teacher looked up from her book now and again to direct a stern look in our direction.
    We settled into truths and begain to ask each other probing questions that we had to dig deep into ourselves to reveal. 'What was your most embarrassing moment?', 'What were you most afraid of?' and finally the dreaded, 'Who do you like?"
    The last one is the surprise question everyone expects. Stacy pressed Stephanie with this question. Her insistance cutting through layers of "I don't know" and shoulder shrugs. Finally ready to answer, Stephanie smiled coyly and leaned over the aisle to whisper it to Stacy. For a moment they both looked in my direction then focused on the ground between them.
     Hung looked between them then at me with confusion. I returned his expression and waitied.
     Stephanie sat back and addressed the group. Very slowly she turned her attention toward me and said, "I like you." I stopped coloring. Our teacher placed her book down and called for the maps to be turned in. I had failed to color one country, Bolivia.

     I was seated on what was probably the hardest seat ever made on a bus crossing the town to deposit me at the university. Clouds had gathered outside and threatened rain but only gave us miserable grey weather. The wind was cold and hard breezes swept past the bus. My ears were numb but I could still hear the voice on the other end of the phone call.
     Her voice was light and airy. She was talking about another girl and what her problem with this particular one was. "Yeah, I get it."
     "I know I'm just ranting but thanks for listening." She says.
     "No problem, you know how much I enjoy hearing about those bitches you're forced to work with."
     She laughted, "I'll call you later. You on your way to class?"
     The first sreaks of water appear on the window."Yeah," I reply. The bus lurches to a stop and I'm knocked into a balding hindu man who grunts and dismounts the bus.
     "Alright, love you,"
     The pause is long, I can hear her anxiously breathing on the phone. I look up at an old woman with silver hair arranged in a bun watching me. She smiles at me and I smile back. There's a heavy sigh on the phone. "I can't wait forever on you." Another pause, "I'll talk to you later."
     "Later Elise."
     The lady is shaking her head. I want to tell her to mind her own business but she probably wouldn't know what I was talking about. I close the phone and looked back out the window as the rain began tumbling down. My stop would eventually come up but on days like these it dragged on forever.

     I sat watching the waiters dance around the tables. Their paths crissed and crossed but they never collided. Such accidental choreography is amusing. I drained the rest of my cup and checked the time on my phone.
     A waiter stopped at my table and filled my glass with the wine bottle that stood an arm's length from me. He regarded me and the empty seat across from me, he replaced the bottle on the table and asked, "Are you waiting on a date?"
     I looked up at him and wondered if I was so obvious, sitting here eating alone. He raised his eyebrows waiting for me to respond.
     "Yes." I tried to sound insulted and standoffish. He smiled and leaned over. I was clearly not good at being a jerk.
     "Guy or girl?"
     "Girl." This time I had no problem sounding insulted. Was it my cloths? I had just dressed well.
     He straightened and was a bit distraught. With a tilt of his head and fiddling with the cloth tucked into his waistband he asked, "How late is she?"
     "About an hour." Why was I telling him this.
     With a nod he turned and left. I contiued to sit and stare at the murky red wine coloring my glass. Peculiar evening.A smile tugged my lips and I laughed quietly with the empty seat before me.
     Several minutes passed and I could feel the lightheadedness setting in. I shut my eyes and felt the twinge of dizzyness. When I opened them there stood a woman before me. She wore a navy blue dress, her deep brown hair drapped around her face and an uncomfortable air about her. She was looking toward the kitchens.
     Following her gaze I saw the waiter who had spoken to me. He gestured for the woman to stay and talk to me. When he caught me watching him he smiled, turned and set off without looking and nearly knocked over another waiter carrying entrees for a table of five.
     "So goes the dance." I muttered to myself.
     "Excuse me." the woman's voice drew me back to the table.
     There was a hint of green when the light hit her eyes. "Sorry, I've had a long night."
     She looked away, she had a rough night too. "I'm sorry, I've been waiting for a blind date, he told me not to do it," She glanced at the waiter, "but I sat and waited anyways."
     "I've been waiting too. You can see," I indicated the empty chair, "They didn't show up either.
     "A pity." She grinned, "Two wasted evenings. Probably why Troy insisted that I join you."
     Troy is watching us half hidden behind one of the kitchen doors. He startles and someone pushes past him holding a tray of soups and salads. Troy scurrys away.
     The girl seats herself across from me. She's bold. Scooping up the bottle of wine she looks over the label, "You ordered a better wine than I did, but I only ordered a glass."
     "I planned a good evening."
     She motioned to the nosey Troy to bring her a glass.
     "What's your name?" I ask.
     "Steph." She turned and accepted the glass from Troy who was beaming at his success. He poured her a glass and hurried away. "Have we met?"
     "I don't think so."
     "Strange then." She took a sip of the wine and set it on the table, with a shy smile.

     I turned in my erratically colored map of South America and adjusted my backpack strap. Stacy watched me leave with Stephanie and grinned at Hung. Amused confusion was all he could do in return.
    "I think I like you too." I said shyly. We exchanged timid glances and walked down the hall together.

Rolling

Daniel rolled a can between his palms to give his hands something to do. He had to keep his mind off of how uncomfortable he was. The chair he sat in was rigid and unsympathetic and his suit felt half a size too small. When was the last time he had worn it? His hands paused. Was it prom? Had he really gotten bigger since prom? Probably not, he’d more likely gained weight. What should be more alarming is that he hadn’t bought a new suit since high school.

“I don’t know half the people in here.” Aaron said to Daniel’s left. Aaron scanned the guests again, “Maybe not any of them.” Aaron unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back into the chair watching the guests intently. “Who are these people?”

On Daniel’s right a softer voice spoke, “Is your dad coming, Danny?” Angie asked, ignoring Aaron’s grumbles.

“He said he’d be here around eight.” Danny said, he began to spin the can again and focus on its spiraling top. He was so uncomfortable. The fluorescent lights were also too bright, chasing darkness out of every corner. It made everyone’s clothing look all the more black.

The three of them watched from a corner. The funeral parlor was filled with the quiet murmur of mourning. Bodies moved slowly around the room, pooling into small puddles of conversation.

Daniel pulled at his sleeves hoping that the material would stretch. He placed the can on the floor and tugged hard on the cuffs. The cloth resisted. He’d have to remember to buy a new suit.

An elderly man approached them and smiled sadly. He clenched Daniel and Aaron’s hands and squeezed as though trying to impart strength into them. The man hugged Angie softly and rubbed her back between her shoulders.  He then stepped away from them and moved to the next group and began again.

“Who the fuck was that?” Aaron asked. Angie was rolling her shoulders trying to shake the man’s awkward sympathy. Daniel sat back down and plucked the can back up. He looked at the clock on the wall, which read eight-thirty and began to spin the can again.

Fools and fool

We walked out to the parking lot together. My face ached and I wondered what I was doing walking side by side with Daniel. Everything was going well tonight. Then I began to remember that the fact that I was here, with this girl and her problems, was all a result of things not being alright. I thought about Rebecca and wondered what she was doing tonight.

Daniel and I talked through the walk. I expressed my regrets about the events of that evening and he waved them off. “As long as you didn’t dick her.” Were his exact words. He told me some things about himself, which I didn’t listen to, and I told him a bit about myself.

“This is me.” Daniel said. It was surreal that he was so amicable. Like we’d met at a bar and had become fast drinking friends. I wondered if I had met him in a different life if we could have been enemies. He watched me over the roof of his tiny car. Those eyes of his were still gauging me. Maybe we were enemies and I wasn’t realizing it.

I rubbed my cheek and waved to him. This caused him to grin foolishly. I turned and began walking toward my own car when he shouted, “Take care of your girl Sidney.” While it sounded concerned it had the veil of a threat cast over it. Could he really be intending to visit a similar evening on me?

He ducked into his car and started it. Within moments he was weaving out of the lot. I watched the cherry lights disappear behind a crop of trees and stood for a moment longer wondering if I was a foolish person. I shook myself of the feeling and continued to my car.

Fumbling the keys and still rubbing the ache in my face I heard the sound of someone calling my name. “Please God no.” I begged. The call came again, closer, more insistent. I turned and concluded that I was a fool like no other.

Seattle jogged up to me, her auburn hair bouncing, not to mention a great deal of commotion beneath her shirt. “Please don’t leave like this.” She said though her panting.

“Like what?” I asked. Having been knocked to the deck by someone half my weight? Having to suffer his kindness after being a party to betrayal? Realizing that I’m only continuing to complicate my situation?

“Without letting me explain.” She said. Being the fool I was, I waited to hear it.

*****

Short one tonight.

Shiners and sentiments

               She opened the door slowly, a bit too dramatically. I expected a hulking behemoth to step through, his head bent to the side and still scraping the top of the door. Instead I was greeted by a slender man. He wore a flannel shirt and heavy jeans that made me think of a lumberjack. I had imagined Paul Bunyan coming in. I got his sickly cousin instead.

               “What’s going on?” He asked. His voice was far deeper and harsher than his bent rail frame would indicate.

               Seattle fixed him with her best leer and asked, “What are you doing here?”

               The man slash boy ignored her and studied me. He went as far as uncurling his back as he sized me up. I felt truly awkward being a third party to whatever this event was.

               Seattle watched him, he watched me and I wished I could find a way out. I had foolishly thought that things would be simpler if I stepped out of my life for a second and into someone else’s. Sadly it was the same insanity, different crazy.

               A thin and gnarled hand came up and pressed off my chest. It took me a moment to realize he was pushing me around. I did stagger backwards a little but I did it as he touched me as opposed to him forcing me.

               “Don’t you dare!” Seattle exclaimed.

               The gnarled hand hung in the air for a moment before curling into a fist. I watched this in utter disbelief. I’m not in any great shape but I was sure I could hold my own against whatever scrappy moves this guy could throw at me. His eyes were furrowed and he looked to be pretty pissed. Something told me that I didn’t get the full story with this girl and her ex. His gaze told was not that of a psychopath but one of betrayal. Just what in the fuck did I think coming back to her place would bring?

               He took a step forward and I lost my resolve on fighting back. “Look, there’s been a mistake. I should be going.”

               “The mistake is you didn’t.” He snarled.

               “That I didn’t leave?” I was confused. Was I supposed to be here and just leave early? Maybe he was trying to do a catchy movie line. It felt really weak and dumb.

               During those thoughts is when his fist came around. A couple of lights popped in my head and I found myself breathing the fibers of the carpet. My cheekbone and the bridge of my nose felt like they’d had a door slammed into them.

               “What the fuck?” Someone said. At first I thought it might be the roommate. Then it occurred to me that it was probably Seattle. No one was rushing to my side so I stood slowly.

               “I come back here and find you with him?” The guy asks. With his gnarled finger pointed at me. I wondered if I was someone special or of note. I also wondered if the world wouldn’t spin for a moment so I could stand straight.

               “I’m out there meeting people.” Seattle yelled, “We’re taking a break, he’s taking a break from his girl too.” This was news to me.

               “Maybe I should go and fuck his girl then while he sits here and fucks you. Then we can all be clear headed and know that we really just fucked ourselves.” That statement seemed kind of thoughtful and possibly insightful.

               “Well what the hell do you care?” Seattle continued to yell, “I told you to leave me alone. You apparently don’t give a shit about what I say.”

               With unsure steps I began to sneak to the door. I didn’t make it halfway across the room when Seattle grabbed my arm and threw me out of it. “Both of you just get out.” Her room door slammed shut behind us and we stood awkwardly in the hall next to each other. He stood, I swayed. Seattle’s roommate watched us from the couch. Her feet up on the armrest, tiny pink socks pointed at us. With a blank expression she pointed at the door.

               The guy grabbed my arm and carried me out. He made sure to close the door behind me then we stood side by side awkwardly outside the apartment. With a sigh his shoulders dropped and he curled lower towards the floor. “Sorry about the hit.”

               The transformation left me stunned, “No problem?”

               “She just knows how to piss me off and does it.”

               “You’re not angry at me?” I asked in confusion.

               “Of course I am. But I got carried away.” He stepped closer and inspected my eye. “It’ll be black tomorrow. Put a cool slab of meat on it.”

               “Why are you being nice after that?”

               “Because you don’t know me and I don’t know you.” He explained, “You look like a nice guy, I too am nice. When I don’t walk in on my girl with a guy near her bed.”

               “Understandable reaction.” I imagined walking in on someone with Rebecca. I can’t say for sure that I would react the same way. Sure as hell I wouldn’t be nice to them afterwards. I wondered if that would make me a bad person or if this guy was daffy.

               “Anyways I’m sorry to hear about your girl.”

               My ire rose, “What?”

               “You’re temporarily separated too. At least that’s what she said.”

               My hackles came down as I remembered the muffled conversation. “Right.”

               “Anyways, sorry for the hit.” He extended the hand again. This time it came in an open palm. What a varied night that hand has had. “I’m Daniel.”

               “Sidney.”

We shook hands for a surreal moment. Then he leaned in close and looked me in the eyes. He spoke slowly and harshly, “Don’t go near her again.” And made a point of squeezing my hand.

Lacerations and trouble

“Are you here?” A voice called from the hall.

Seattle leaned out her door and began whispering to someone, probably the roommate.

I continued to study the pictures as the girls spoke. There was something amiss in the pattern, places where it looked patched up. Just in the say that some photos looked like they were pulled further out of the group, like a cut tightening the skin around as it sealed.

Seattle closed her door softly and strode back beside me. “Are there pictures missing?” I inquired.

She didn’t have to look at where I pointed. “Yeah they were of someone who’s since fallen out of favor.”

“The old boyfriend.” I asked.

She nodded slowly. I didn’t feel the need to press her for more. <y discovery was apparently not planned and had soured the moment. “I like it, different style to hanging pictures up.”

She smiled. I wasn’t getting tired of seeing that, “Beats frames.”

For a while we talked and she explained the places she’d been and what they did. She didn’t bother too much with names, instead focusing on the experience of each location that was shot and tacked to her wall.

There was a quiet knock on the outside door. A shuffling indicated that the roommate was scurrying to answer it. Seattle continued to weave her tales. She stopped weaving when we heard a chirp from outside. She stood straight up and looked at her door. From the expression on her face I expected it to burst open.  

Quiet voices were heard on the other side. One voice was sternly quiet and the other was insistently quiet. Then came the footsteps. They were heavier than the roommates. They were also slower and cautious. I could feel the hairs on my neck standing on end.

               “I know you’re in there.” Came a gruff and insistent voice.

Something small and frozen inside of me burst and filled me with a chill. “The old boyfriend?” I asked, a shiver running down my vertebrae at the look on Seattle’s face.

“Don’t say a word.” She commanded.

Photos and Chairmen

She led me by the hand into her abode. Her apartment was not unlike mine. It sported a Spartan appearance with a small adjustment to the curtains and one well placed photograph centered and above the couch. No animal greeted me at the door or called with a whimper from another room. I felt reassured in viewing this display of nothing.

“My roommate is a bit of a Nazi so forgive me if the place looks a little blah.” She apologized.

So this was the roommate’s doing. What horror would this woman spring on me? A room full of birds and bird like things? God forbid its cats. Though Bowie did leave an impression in my sour disposition towards cats and their pompous nature, he did it with a bit of flair.

“No problem.” I muttered looking about and trying to imagine what the walls would be lined with. Would she spray it pink and adorn unicorns across the walls? Maybe she would design it so that it would look as though a cherub had regurgitated while spinning on a desk chair. Maybe she was a devil worshipper and the room would be black as night lit with glowing embers from extinguished candles that wafted smells of apple pie.

Still holding my hand and dragging me through the hall we darted into her room. I tried to catch a glimpse of the roommate through a crack in the door but with the speed we moved into the room and the scant viewing port I could only make out a mess of black hair, possibly curly or recently washed.

Seattle’s room was not something I would have imagined. Along a strip of one wall in a scattered mosaic were a few dozen black and white photos from movies. On the smaller wall there were other photos framing a window. These were not just black and white, and they portrayed Seattle with friends and family in a variety of poses and situations. Some were tasteful angles and artful, others were goofy, with winks and playful seriousness. Girls stuck their pink tongues out, a few bore metallic accessories, or threw their arms round each other with their faces frozen mid excited scream.

“Fancy yourself a photographer?” I asked while my eyes wandered over each picture. The images of people taken in a moment of thought or great emotion caught my attention more than the ones filled with merriment and camaraderie.

Her room was painted a deep indigo. I imagine this is what it must be like to live within an eggplant, I didn’t voice this observation. The bed was large and the sheets were dark blue. Maybe it’s not an eggplant, maybe it’s the inside of a bruise.

“I like taking pictures.” She watched me study her hidden pleasure.

“Thank god.” I remarked as I recognized the man who bowed in the theater in a picture. He was leaning up against a wall looking off camera at something while flicking a cigarette away. It seemed to catch him in one of his non-pretentious moments, which I assume fill his waking hours. “I couldn’t imagine someone duller than a woman into economics.”She pouted for a moment and I added, “I half expected a poster of Greenspan tacked up somewhere.”

The lady blushed.

Hook and line

“I have a girlfriend.” I let the words hang there and waited for a reaction.

“Okay.” She said, her head shaking at my hesitation.

I took a deep breath before continuing. “Had a girlfriend,” I watched her for any change in mood but nothing happened. This girl was either very good or absolutely not interested. Was I losing my eye for observation or was this vixen merely toying with my fragile state. “We decided to take a break after some recent goings on.”

The girl didn’t wait a moment before asking, “You cheated on her?”

“What? No.” Did I come across this way to her, as an adulterer? Though my intentions for meeting Seattle weren’t clear to myself, I did know that I was in search for meaningful conversation and perhaps a friend who didn’t drop me off at clubs with a twenty pinned to my shirt.

The thought did begin to creep into my mind that perhaps this was her way of testing me. I thought to pry back, “How about you?” Not my best interrogation moment.

“I had one too.” My ears perked at the word, had. “So what did happen that she wanted a break?”

“Her family is a little crazy and mine isn’t wild about her.”

“Just families?” Her eyebrow arched and there was a tugging at the corner of her lips. She was playfully trying to work the truth out of me.

I couldn’t help but grinning like a fool. “No, I admit that I didn’t handle some situations the right way.” I leveled a finger at her and spoke through my dumb grin, “Don’t ask for specifics.” I imagined what it would be like to tell her about Bowie and the refrigerator or the roach and restaurant. My hand returned to the edge of the table and I settled back into my seat. “What about your boy situation?”

She giggled, “Boy indeed.” She composed herself. “He was a tad possessive and I let him go. Don’t inquire.” We sat silently for a moment reflecting on our damaged love lives. “Why can’t people just be normal, love each other and screw on a regular basis without extra strings.”

I choked on the soda that I had been drinking. Trying to alternate laughing and coughing while Seattle watched me was difficult. Eventually I managed to wheeze a gasp for air and did my best to expel the fluid from my lungs.

“Why does that always solicit the same reaction?” She asked with a laugh.

“Because,” I gasped, “You want it.”

She spoke slowly, deliberately. “I want it?”

“You know what I mean.” I coughed one last time, digging in and trying to release the last of the drink from my wind pipe.

“I do, but I’ve met all quality and variety of creep.”

I began moving the utensils around the table, positioning them in a variety of patterns. “There are a lot of crazy girls out there too.” I thought to myself that Rebecca was one of the few exceptions. “I’ve met women who could devour a man and others who were bound by no canvas jacket.”

“And I’ve met men who could set your hair on end with their vile excuse for hygienic habits. I’ve trod on the fetid lands of bathrooms unkempt and spied across the hills of cloths that time forgot.” We both crumbled into laughter. After a good bout of cheer we settled into a comfortable silence. There was warmth to the room that was probably more a lack of conditioned air but it made me feel good.

 Finding a moment of naked honesty and forgetting myself, I blurted, “It’s like being with an old friend.”

She blushed and with a sinister smile and wickedly coy hush to her voice asked, “An old friend?”

The force of my blood rushing from my body to fill the erection threatening to burst from my evening pants was dizzying. Suddenly my intentions were muddled and I forgot that this evening was not a date.