by Samuel Fort
Chapter 46: Felicity
Ben drove his silver BMW SUV. He took a left on Kish Street, as Professor Ridley had directed, and drove north. If the man’s directions were correct, he’d cross Sumer Avenue in three blocks. The Hanging Gardens would be on the right. He stopped at a red light and punched his radio on. Classical music suddenly filled the spacious, leather-upholstered cabin. The sound system package had been costly, but he had no regrets.
He was startled when the passenger door opened.
“You’re late!” said the girl who hopped into the vehicle.
“What the-”
The girl kissed him on the lips. It was a long, aggressive, and passionate kiss, and his initial impulse to reject it didn’t have much staying power. When the girl finally released him, he said, “Fiela?”
“What’s that?” asked the girl. “A new nickname?” She wore black jeans and a purple tee shirt with something unintelligible silk-screened onto it. Her hair was a mix of red and blue and yellow, and she had a ring in her lip. Her eyes were a deep blue. “Let’s stick with ‘Fel,’ okay? I can’t deal with three syllables.”
Ben felt stupid. He’d bumbled his own girlfriend’s name. Her name was Felicity, or ‘Fel.’ Why had he called her Fiela?
What kind of name was that?
He looked down. “You’re wearing shoes.”
“Yeah…” she said, waiting for the punch line.
“Why?”
She eyeballed him. “Um, because it’s autumn and we’re not going to the beach, maybe? Is this a trick question?”
“You hate shoes.”
The girl barked a laugh. “Yeah, right! I’ve only got like a hundred pair.” She turned in her seat and looked into the back of the vehicle. “You brought everything?”
“What?”
“The camping gear.”
Ben shook his head. “I, um…”
“Where’s the cooler? Oh, never mind, I see it. Do we need to stop for beer?”
“Yeah,” he said. They did need to stop for beer. “We need ice, too.”
“We better do it while we’re in town. There’s nothing except roadkill between here and the lake.”
Ben nodded. “Anything else you can think of?”
“Nope.”
Ben checked the GPS on his phone. “We’ll be there before noon. Where’s your stuff?”
“You said you’d drop me by my place on the way, remember?”
“You’re right. I’m a little scatterbrained today.”
Fel laughed. “Just today?” A minute later she said, “Why do you keep looking at your hand?
“What?”
“Your left hand. Did you hurt it?”
Ben lifted his hand from the wheel and flexed his fingers. “I feel like something’s missing.”
Fel rolled her eyes. “There is. A wedding ring. There’s one missing from my hand, too. What are you going to do about that?”
The man sighed. “Fel, look-”
“Ben, I’m twenty-two. I’ll graduate this year. The university people can’t accuse you of anything once I’ve graduated. They can’t even accuse you of anything now! Not really. It’s been two years since I even took one of your classes.”
She edged closer to the man. “I know you’re super worried about how our relationship will be viewed by your friends. But you’re only ten years older than me. That’s nothing! I mean, look at Hollywood!”
“This isn’t Hollywood, Fel. It’s a university town. It’s different.”
“It won’t matter when I graduate, will it? No one can say anything then. I love you, Ben. I’d do anything for you. I know you love me, even if your shirts do have a bit too much starch in ‘em. You do love me, right?”
Ben turned toward the girl. “I do. I really do. Sorry, I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
“I know,” said the girl, grabbing the man’s free hand and kissing it. She smiled and placed the back of it against her cheek. “I’ve missed you,” she said quietly.
“I miss you, too,” he mumbled. “I miss you so much.”
Fel released his hand. “Forget about the university stuff. The world’s not coming to an end. Let’s just enjoy the weekend.”
“Deal,” said Ben. He looked at his GPS and said, “Huh.”
“What?”
“Must be a poor signal.”
Fel looked around. “Here, in middle of town?”
“Yeah, weird. Anyway, here’s a gas station. We’ll stop and fill the cooler. Then we’ll stop by your place.”
“Okay.”
Ben pulled the SUV past the pumps and into a parking stall in front of the convenience store. He unfastened his seatbelt and said, “Hey, do me a favor and look in the glove compartment and make sure I brought a map. Just in case. If not, I’ll pick up one here.”
“Okay.” Fel scooted back to her side of the vehicle and opened the glove compartment. She peered inside, looking confused, then squealed in delight. “Ben! Oh God! Really?”
Her eyes wide, she withdrew a small velvet box. “This better not be earrings.”
He shook his head. “It’s not.”
Fel squealed again and opened the box. “Oh God!” she yelled, stomping her feet into the floorboard. “Oh Ben!”
“Is that a ‘yes?’” he asked.
“Yes!” She lunged at the man and hugged him, showering his face with kisses. “Oh, I love you!”
And then she was crying, and laughing, and Ben felt that maybe he wasn’t such a bad person after all. Screw the university staff. This was his life. He’d live it any way he wanted to live it.
“I need to call my mom!” Fel said. “She’s going to be soooo happy!”
Ben’s smile disappeared. He felt a sudden, inexplicable darkness fall over him. His happiness evaporated. He looked at Fel, who was wiping at tears and sorting through her contact list on her phone.
Fel’s mother was dead. Murdered, along with Fel’s father. Fel had been there. She’d watched it all happen. She had told him about that.
Hadn’t she?
Fel was talking. “Mom? It’s me!” She gave Ben a sideways glance and grinned. “Guess what!”
Feeling a lightheaded, Ben opened his door and stepped out of the car, making a “one minute” gesture at Fel as he backed toward the convenience store. The store was empty except for the ancient clerk behind the counter. He was a tiny man in a yellow, short-sleeved shirt and a red polyester vest. His name tag read “Ridley, Assistant Vice Manager in Training.”
He said, “Can I help you, son?”
“Where do I get ice?”
The man frowned. “What do you need ice for?”
“Beer,” answered Ben, ignoring the man’s rudeness.
“You don’t have beer. You haven’t for a few months. Remember? And you’ve got more ice than you can use.”
Ben put his hands out to his side. This was ridiculous. “Look, I just want to buy ice and beer. Why is that a problem?”
The old man leaned his elbows on the counter. “Beer impairs reasoning.”
“Good.”
The clerk shook his head. “No, it’s not. You’re not thinking straight, Ben. You know that. Do you really think beer will help? You need to lay off the booze.”
Ben took a step forward, confused. “How do you know my name?”
“He’s leading you astray, Ben.”
“What? Who? What are you talking about?”
“The Sillum, Ben. Remember?”
A car horn blared outside. It was a long, annoying blare, and it was coming from Ben’s SUV. He made a dismissive gesture toward the clerk. “Never mind,” he grumbled, moving quickly toward the exit.
“I’m coming!” he yelled.