“Well, we’re both adults, aren’t we? I think you’re perfectly capable of keeping your personal feelings separate from your class. I won’t be insulted if you grade me based on my performance, even if it’s a mediocre grade.”
“That’s beside the point. It would be too easy for others to find out about it.”
“Is that really your only objection?”
“Byron, you’re a nice guy...”
“Don’t give me that nice guy crap. You don’t have to try and spare my feelings. If you don’t want to go out with me, then you don’t want to go out with me. Like I said, we’re both adults.”
“Fine, I don’t want to go out with you. And that won’t effect your grade, either.”
“Okay. I guess inviting a guy to a nice restaurant for a drink doesn’t mean what it used to any more.”
“You know why I invited you here.”
“You didn’t have to invite me here to tell me what you did. It would have taken you five seconds after class to do the same thing. What am I supposed to think about this? I’m sorry if I got confused.”
Christie unintentionally raised her voice. “I invited you here because it’s a long tradition among scientists. I was trying to treat you as an equal. I was just being polite. I’m sorry if you got confused!”
Byron stood. “I see what’s going on here. That’s fine. If you say it won’t effect my grade, all right. We’ll let time prove it.”
Byron left the restaurant without paying for the whiskey.
__________
John was never one to pretend he didn’t see what was going on around him. The conversation between the woman and the man in the restaurant was no exception. It was convenient enough to have a seat where neither one of them would notice his audience. John hadn’t heard anything but the last few sentences of their conversation, but it sounded like the man wasn’t being fair to the woman. All John knew is that she didn’t look like any scientist he’d ever seen before.
The woman teased the rim of her empty glass for a few minutes. When she arose to leave, John noticed her binder had the name Suffolk University on it. John wondered if he actually knew who she was and had forgotten. They looked like they were the same age. The woman opened the front door, allowed Ari to enter, and was gone. Ari thanked the woman for holding the door, then stood and scanned the room for John. He waved her over. Ari stopped at the bar to order something before joining John.
“Good evening,” she said.
“Hi.”
John stood while Ari took her seat. She was wearing jeans and a leather jacket, the latter item being of the sport bike variety.
“This place is nicer than I remember it,” she said.
“Yeah? I was never a huge fan of it. Although it used to have a different name and a different style, if I remember correctly.”
“You do. I come here every so often, though, so I think I’ve seen it several times since they changed the name.”
“What did you get yourself?”
“Barbancourt.”
“Good choice.”
“Thank you. You’re the one who got me into this brand, remember?”
“Um... I don’t.”
“Remember that party at Beth’s? That huge one where we hardly knew anybody else?”
“I don’t remember much about that party. I learned never to mix red wine with any other alcohol. By itself, or not at all. Otherwise it’s evil.”
“You brought Barbancourt. You talked me into having some despite the fact that I insisted I wouldn’t like it. I was wrong, but I didn’t admit it.”
“Even with something so inconsequential, you can’t admit being wrong.”
“I don’t know if that’s an apt comparison.”
“Maybe not.”
Ari smiled at John. She was no worse for wear over the past year. When she smiled, John noticed crow’s feet lines appearing by her eyes. She was, like the rest of them, getting older. There was no denying it for any of them. The impossible age of thirty was approaching. John looked on the bright side. He thought his wrinkles, still subtle at this point, gave him a distinguished and wise appearance. His opinion of Ari’s face was that it had improved over time. While beautiful before, she now looked less like a spoiled brat and more like a lady. John wondered if her inner beauty had grown as well.
“So I got myself a Glock,” Ari announced proudly.
“So you mentioned.”
“Do you think it strange that I bought a pistol?”
“Not entirely. You were always aware of your personal safety. You committed yourself to years of martial arts training; this is simply a continuation of that training. I didn’t expect you to think that you needed a pistol, that’s all.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re so good at Aikido, that’s why.”
“Aikido can’t help me much when somebody’s shooting at me.”
“Agreed. It seems to me that your chances of needing Aikido are much higher than your chance of needing a firearm. Am I wrong?”
“No. I’m just not prepared to risk not needing either. I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. I don’t need to tell you this, John, you own guns.”
“I do.”
“You have an unrestricted license, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you carrying a weapon right now?”
“No. Are you?”
“Naturally.”
“How can you use the term ‘naturally’ if you just got your permit?”
“I think it’s an appropriate use of the word. Natural and new are not mutually exclusive.”
“I suppose not.”
“How come you don’t carry a weapon?”
“I don’t consider the possibility of needing it to be that high. This isn’t Los Angeles or D.C., after all. I stay out of the bad neighborhoods when I come to Boston. If I felt like I needed to carry, I would. I do. When we went up to New Hampshire I always carried. We were alone and isolated miles from nowhere. It seemed prudent.”
“I think the city presents much more of a threat than New Hampshire, but I understand your position.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I feel safer knowing you have a weapon.”
John was lying. He had no reason to trust Ari with a firearm as of yet. The required safety course in Massachusetts couldn’t teach good judgment. In this equation, John wished that he was the one with the firearm, not Ari. He wanted to trust her, but his gut feeling on the matter was negative. He really wanted to grill her on firearms law and the rules of engagement. There would be a better time for that than now.
“You’ll get the chance to show me what you can do this weekend,” he said.
“You bet.”
Ari picked up the menu for the first time and began to scan it.
“So, how’s your social life these days?”
“I enjoy being alone.”
“By that you mean stagnant?” John asked, smiling.
“By that I mean I enjoy being alone.”
“Okay.”
“I have plenty of friends; I don’t need to waste time making new ones.”
“You mean Ray and I? I guess that’s plenty. I guess we’re glad you wasted your time on us back in college.”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
“I hope not.”
“The truth be told, I haven’t been on a date in over two years. Last time I saw you was… just about the anniversary of my last breakup. I haven’t had the energy to try again.”
“Like I said over the phone, perhaps you wild days are over?”
“Maybe. Maybe this new Glock is a sign that I’m looking for a whole new kind of wild.”
“Fun comes after safety.”
“You know, you were always a bit of a killjoy.”
“Such praise.”
Thirty minutes later, John and Ari were walking down Beacon Street. The meal had passed without much more conversation, and so far
their walk promised to echo that silence. It wasn’t until they reached Charles Street before John tried again.
“Do you think you’ll try dating again any time soon?”
“Why do you keep asking me about my love life?”
“Well, I guess because it was something we always talked about before. Really we had little to talk about other than philosophy, computers, and relationships.”
“There’s nothing to talk about right now. I’ll get back to you after a few good lays.”
Ari’s tone was that of annoyance. John knew that despite Ari’s past alleged promiscuity she was never one to speak lightly of it.
John and Ari stopped at the intersection. Boston was bright in the cold air. John realized how much he missed the city, forgetting for a moment all the traffic, parking tickets, and weirdoes. He looked at Ari, and felt a twinge of adrenaline. It surprised him.
“I still live on Marlborough Street.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“It’s only five minutes from here.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to walk me home?”
John gestured. “Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
“I wasn’t sure you wanted the evening to end quite yet. It’s only nine o’clock.”
“No, we should call it a night. We both have work in the morning. I mean, I assume you do...”
“I do.”
“Okay. Then we walk.”
The light changed in their favor and they crossed the street. John heard a match light and smelled a cigarette. Ari inhaled deeply next to him. He was reminded that he hadn’t brought his pipe.
“Cloves?” John asked.
“Yep.”
“How’s work going?”
“Ask me later.”
John was sure of it now. He was attracted to Ari. Not just in terms of physical appearance, that was nothing new. He found himself attracted to her personality, which as far as he could tell hadn’t changed all that much from college. Therefore, either his taste in women had changed, Ari had become a better person; or most likely, John had recently gone insane.
5. October 3, 2003
The sun had long set by the time John and Ari arrived at Ray’s place. Ari had met John at his place, and they’d left her car behind. It hadn’t been established whose car would be left at Ray’s, and John hoped it wouldn’t be his. Ray’s Expedition was bound to be better suited to the task, even if there was only a mile of dirt road to overcome. John wasn’t a big fan of driving long distances either.
John and Ari hadn’t said much during the thirty minute drive to Ray’s. John was worried about maintaining his normal personality so much that he refrained from making conversation almost completely, in itself a failure of the effort. Ari seemed happy enough staring at the starry sky. John was glad to get off the highway, since it gave him a chance to concentrate on finding Ray’s apartment.
With the Expedition parked outside, this wasn’t too difficult. Ray appeared almost immediately after John parked. He had a rifle case in one hand and a backpack in the other. John and Ari got out. John waved to Ray.
“’Sup, yo!” John said.
Ari smiled at Ray as she crossed the street.
“It’s been a long time, stranger,” said Ari.
Ray offered his hand. “That’s for sure.”
John had apparently decided to force the vehicle issue, and was unloading his gear from his car. He had a rifle case of his own, as well as a backpack. He also grabbed Ari’s pack and shuffled across the street.
“We’re taking my truck?” Ray asked.
“Is that all right?”
“Sure, that’s fine. I’m having trouble justifying it as a commuter vehicle, you know. Now I can say I use it for off-roading.”
“Right, the once a year you do it.”
“This gigantic beast is yours?” Ari said, grinning. “Cool.”
Ray hit a button on his key chain and the rear gate opened.
“It’ll be a lot cooler when I get it paid off. At least I’m getting zero percent interest.”
John and Ray loaded up the truck. Ari helped herself into the front passenger seat and began poking around.
“Ready to take off?” John said.
“You bet.”
John and Ray climbed into the cab.
“Hey,” John said to Ari, “I don’t remember hearing you call shotgun.”
“Shotgun.”
“You know, Ray and I actually have shotguns. You shouldn’t be so flippant being the only one without.”
“You both brought shotguns?”
“Yeah. It’s going to be Monkey Night, didn’t you know?”
“Right, I must have missed that on the news.”
“It’s only an hour from here,” began Ray, “so if you have to pee halfway there I’m not stopping.”
“For this we paid first class?” said Ari.
“No,” said John, “first class is an outhouse with a roof.”
A roof it had, but the outhouse was still thirty yards from the cabin. Ari was reminded of this fact an hour or so later when the trio arrived. The cabin was in a small town called Orfordville near the Vermont border. It lay at the end of a dirt road, about a mile off the paved road. It was, relatively speaking, not very isolated. When the sun went down, however, that dirt road had a way of looking a lot longer than five thousand feet and change. Plus, the surrounding forest was known to expand for several miles in the other directions. Ray pulled the Expedition as close to the front door as was practical and turned off the ignition.
“Here we are. Now we get to see how well my folks have been maintaining it.”
Ray said this because his parents, once frequent visitors to the cabin, were only getting up there once or twice a year. Ari had an unpleasant flash of images involving insects and rodents.
Upon stepping out of the truck, a change in temperature became obvious. Whereas back in Manchester it was around fifty degrees, here it had to be fifteen degrees lower. John was immediately glad he’d brought his favorite military jacket. Ari began to doubt the wisdom of the trip.
“Ah, fantastic,” Ray said. “I love this air.”
Ray proceeded to struggle with the lock on the front door while John and Ari unloaded their gear. Hidden by the formidable truck frame, John spoke his mind.
“Ray seems preoccupied with something tonight.”
“Does he?” Ari replied.
“Yeah. Usually when something is bothering him he’ll bring it up. At least our company never stopped him before.”
“If he wants to talk about it, he’ll talk about it. Maybe he just had a hard day. I don’t know.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
Ray grunted and there was a bang as the door gave way. John was sure Ray said something crude about somebody’s mother.
“Grab the stuff!” Ray added with more volume.
John and Ari shouldered bags and grabbed supplies. Ari grabbed more than she could handle but shrugged off John’s attempt to aid her. John allowed her to lead the way and she hobbled inside.
The interior of the cabin was much as John remembered it. It was also clean, to their collective relief. Turning on the gas lights would soon reveal more.
“Isn’t this place bigger than last time?” Ari asked.
“Yeah,” said Ray, “my folks added another bedroom.”
Ray walked into the area in question and said, “Ooh, big new room.”
“Great, maybe we can actually see it?”
Ray returned. “Sure, hold on.”
“Heat would also be a good thing,” added John.
Ray leaned over a lever near the floor next to the sink. As he moved it, a faint hissing could be heard. Ray grabbed a box of matches and began lighting the lamps.
“You got a woodstove, too.”
John pointed at another new addition. Before, they relied on the gas heater.
“Yes. Why don’t you make yourself useful and build a fire in it?”
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“Ugh. Me make fire.”
Ari began a self-guided tour while John fiddled with the woodstove. The cabin had a single layer of insulation in the walls. Ari remembered being distinctly unhappy with the insulation’s efficacy. The furniture was simple, and ran the gamut from rustic to retro. Ray had said he’d been going here for over twenty years, and some of the furniture proved it.
“How old is this place?” Ari asked.
“Twenty-five years old, I think.” Ray said.
“You know, I think they invented electricity in the last twenty-five years.”
“Do you have any idea how expensive it is to run electrical line? My folks figured it out once. It’s like ten thousand dollars every hundred meters. And it’s over two kilometers to the road.”
“Two hundred grand? That doesn’t sound right.”
“That’s what I remember them saying. Or maybe it was a thousand dollars for every hundred. Either way it’s not very convenient.”
John spoke, his head halfway inside the woodstove.
“Electricity would kind of defeat the purpose of this place, in my most humble opinion.”
“Not in my book,” Ari said.
“City girl. Now, watch the master at work.”
John took a step back from the stove and posed with a match. He lit the match and tossed it inside.
“No way that’s going to work, John,” said Ray.
“Shit. I was hoping for a long distance light. Then you’d think I was all cool and stuff.”
Ari smiled. “Yes, John, we’ve been waiting all these years for proof of your match throwing prowess.”
John lit the fire the conventional way, and wiped his hands together.
“Now, it’s time for the ATF.”
“ATF?” asked Ari.
“Yes,” said Ray, “the traditional after trip f...”
“Shut up, Ray. The traditional laying out of all the goodies we brought. In this case, alcohol, tobacco, and firearms.”
John and Ray opened up backpacks, unzipped cases and rummaged through grocery bags. Ari shrugged and removed her Glock from her hip. John and Ray froze in horror.
“What?” asked Ari.
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