The Son of Man

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The Son of Man Page 45

by CW Johnson


  Amy giggled. “I wonder if she’ll ever outgrow that movie…speaking of which, your video has fifty-thousand views.”

  Travis’ mouth dropped. “Are you kidding?”

  “Nope, it's going viral.”

  ~~~

  Charlie was anything if not predictable. Dinner had been the same as it always was prior to a Princess showing: Macaroni and cheese with chopped hotdogs. Thank God Amy, the babysitter, had her buffaloed. Otherwise that's all she would eat.

  Travis knew there would be a day of reckoning, a time when he would have to stop being a pushover and start being a dad but he hoped to at least have a few more years. Charlie would have plenty of time to get angry and rebel but for now he was perfectly content to remain putty in her little hands.

  They chatted as they munched and once again Travis was surprised at how much a four-year-old and her dad had to talk about.

  Apparently, Charlie had seen a spider in her room. Amy couldn't find it, so she let Charlie nap on the couch. A big red fire truck went right by their house but didn't have the whistle on. “You mean siren?” Travis asked, but Charlie had already changed subjects.

  “Do you know that ants have queens?”

  Travis raised his eyebrows, “really? I wonder if they have princesses?”

  “No,” Charlie answered wiping her mouth with her forearm. “Just queens.”

  “Maybe you could be their princess.” Travis said, “you already know how.”

  “Maybe,” she answered, her legs swinging under the table. “I already know how.”

  “Let's watch the princess movie and you can practice being a princess even more.”

  Her eyes widened. “Yeah! I'll practice!” she said, bounding off the chair.

  “Hold up, we have to clean the dishes first.”

  Dinner officially ended with Travis rinsing, handing the dishes down to Charlie, who haphazardly place them in the dishwasher.

  Finally, father and daughter settled down to watch the Princess of Shiloh for at least the tenth time. Charlie, sitting in Travis’ lap, leaned back against his chest and watched, enraptured until their scene came on and both reenacted their parts at the top of their lungs. When the scene was finished, Travis reached for the remote and paused the movie.

  “Do you know how many people have seen the video we made for grandma?”

  Charlie looked up at him and shook her head.

  “More than fifty thousand people!”

  Charlie glanced back at the TV screen, obviously unimpressed.

  “That's enough people to fill a whole football stadium.”

  Again, Charlie seemed completely unfazed.

  “Do you want me to turn the movie back on?”

  Charlie gave him a quick nod of approval and the movie resumed.

  A half hour later the video ended as it always had: Princess Shiloh rescued by the prince and Charlie snoozing in her daddy’s arms.

  ~~~

  Abigail answered her phone on the third ring.

  “Mind if I come over? I've got something I want to go over with you.”

  “Malorie, hi. Yeah, we need to talk.”

  Malorie occupied a hotel room two doors down so the knock on the door came almost immediately.

  Abigail no sooner opened the door when Malorie surged past, laptop open in her hands.

  “I think I might have an idea,” she said. “I think I may have figured out an outlet for you.”

  Abigail giggled. “Hi Malorie. Won't you come in?”

  Malorie moved to one of three luxurious couches and dropped her open laptop on the coffee table in front of it. “Look what I've done.”

  Abigail joined her on the couch, leaned in to better view the laptop and pulled back. “Facebook?”

  “Yeah, Facebook. Look, I've created a bogus page for you. No one will have a clue who you are.”

  “What’ll be the point in that?” Abigail asked.

  Malorie flipped her hands. “It's obvious you want to get a break from this life. You don't want to quit; you just want a break, have some time and just chat with people—“

  “Why would I want to chat with strangers? Hell, why would they want to chat with me?”

  “I'm constantly talking to people I don't know on Facebook. People who post things that come up on my page; people I don't know responding to posts on my page…’ I've made friends with people that way.”

  Abigail leaned back and shook her head. “I don't know, every time I get on Facebook I come across something about myself that pisses me off, and it’s a nightmare trying to communicate with people.”

  “That's because they know who you are. Look: I've put together a ‘Friends’ list, and an ‘About’ section. I found a very normal person and stole her profile…well her pictures anyway.”

  “What? You can't do that!”

  “Why not?” Malorie said. “It's not like you're planning anything malicious. This girl…these pictures will never come up because this girl is so average, and even if they did, we'll just delete the profile. It's not like you'll be doing it a long time. You just need a break, remember?

  Just go on there and strike up a conversation or two. It's a chance for you to go completely unnoticed. Isn't that what you want? If only as a break?”

  Abigail blew out a sigh. “Well you’ve obviously put in a lot of time. I'll give it a try.”

  “Good!” Malorie said. “I mailed you the address. I'll give you a week before the mundane-ness drives you insane.”

  Abigail smiled, reached and pulled Malorie in for a hug. “I love you, you know. You're still the best friend I've ever had in the world.”

  Malorie patted her on the back. “I know. I love you too. Just…got a little emotional today. I didn't mean—“

  “Yes you did,” Abigail interrupted. “And you were absolutely right, and I absolutely needed to hear it.”

  Malorie pulled away. “Anyway,” she said, obviously trying to change the subject, “what you got going tonight?”

  “I don't know,” Abigail answered. “I thought maybe you and I could watch a movie, have some popcorn or something.”

  Malorie frowned. “I gotta date.”

  Abigail was surprised by the unreasonable rush of jealousy that suddenly overwhelmed her.

  Had it come to this? she thought. I'm jealous because she has a life other than mine?

  “Really? With who? Anyone I know?”

  “It's nothing,” Malorie said. “Some guy I met at the eatery in the lobby.”

  “Here?”

  “Yeah, just today. We're going to the Spence. Probably won't be long.”

  “Cool. Go have fun.”

  “I can't believe you're gonna be in tonight. Aren't there about a thousand guys you could call…have somebody call?”

  “No,” Abigail said. “After today I just want some peace and quiet.”

  Truth was, after the over publicized breakup with her jerk, movie-star boyfriend she hadn’t so much as considered associating with a man, especially a man in the business and the wall of fame pretty much prevented her even meeting anyone normal.

  Maybe Malorie was on to something with this make-believe Facebook profile.

  “I'll play around with your Facebook page,” Abigail continued. “That should keep me busy for a while.”

  Chapter Three

  ~~~

  Within an hour of Malorie leaving, Abigail was surfing her new Facebook page. Malorie had done a pretty convincing job. Apparently, Abigail had around 300 make-believe friends. That used to be about average, but it had been awhile.

  The picture that was supposed to be her was perfect. Nothing bad, nothing good. Pretty but not too pretty…just a person. She surfed over her make-believe friends list wondering if there could possibly be any actual connections. Not much of a chance of that, but she wanted to be sure.

  Also, it seemed reasonable to see if any haters were in her supposed list of friends. She paused a good ten minutes before finally making the move; the move th
at always seemed to ruin her day.

  She went to: search Facebook/Abigail Warren. She’d never been blessed with the hardest skin, but her curiosity got the better of her.

  The moment the results appeared she was sorry she’d gone there. Her own official Facebook page appeared, of course, followed by never ending streams of anyone mentioning her on a post for any reason.

  “What am I doing?” she asked herself aloud. Still she scrolled. There was a lot of positive posts. She made a mental note to try and remember those when she came across the inevitable hateful posts. Several streams revolving around one related subject caught her.

  It was a video featuring a father and tiny, adorable daughter. It caught her eye because the little girl was dressed in a miniature version of the very distinct dress she’d worn in her movie: ‘The Princess Of Shiloh’, a Disney production she’d been involved in just prior to the big franchise.

  She clicked on the video and instantly smiled. This child was adorable. She was so intense, her large, flashing eyes, perfect little dimples and overplayed expressions were simply irresistible. And she could sing.

  When it came time for the adult holding her on his lap to sing — obviously, her father—Abigail found herself laughing in a way she hadn't laughed in a long time. The father pushed his chest out and began belting out his part in what could only be described as a caricature of an opera singer.

  What brought Abigail to laughter was the little girl's adorable response. She gazed up at him, her tiny face tilting to and fro, beaming her dimpled smile of adoration. She was clearly into the part.

  The moment the short video ended she had to watch it again, and again. Each time the father sang, she broke into laughter.

  The fourth time through, she found her attention turning to the dad. He was dressed in a dark, grimy tee shirt that looked like it had been rolled in dirt. Over his broad shoulders an equally grimy blanket rested. It was obviously the duo’s attempt at representing Prince Randolph’s Woodsman costume worn by her douchebag co-star, Bobby knight. The father was relatively tall and well built.

  He was young, probably mid-twenties. She noticed that he filled the chair he was sitting in quite nicely. He had sandy, blond hair that was short, and a nice face. It was obvious where the child’s dimples came from.

  By far, the father’s most attractive, even endearing feature was his obvious adoration for his little daughter.

  Abigail wondered if they’d made any more videos. She followed the link to the father’s Facebook page.

  The video had over a million views. No wonder; at least ten of those views had been of her making.

  This might be just the place to start, Abigail thought. A tiny green dot signified he was currently online. I'll message this guy. At least we'll have something to talk about. She brought up his message board and began typing.

  ~~~

  As with most nights, Charlie awoke during the lap-to-bed transformation. After much deliberation, Travis was allowed to read from a ‘Winnie the Pooh and friends’ book in place of The Princess book. Maybe Charlie was finally moving on. Travis was grateful.

  One cold beer and half a Marlin’s rerun later, Travis settled in front of his computer screen. The video had exploded in only a few hours. Over a million views and that might have only been a tip of the iceberg.

  People had shared it. Several people had put it up on YouTube. Unexpected was the sudden gush of female attention the video garnered. Not that he didn't enjoy it. It didn't take a genius to realize this sudden burst of attention was, at the most, a passing fancy.

  He decided to go with it. His message board and friend requests were bulging. The clear majority of messages read like sex adds on sleazy web sites. Maybe it was simply the convenience of not having to read more than a full sentence that caused him to answer the message that simply said, “hello.”

  “Hi,” he typed back.

  A thumbnail in the top left of the post told him he was speaking with a female.

  “Hello,” an answer came. “Are you the guy with the adorable daughter?”

  “That’s me,” Travis typed. “That's my little girl.”

  “Love the princess dress.”

  “Amazon. 20 bucks.”

  “Do you mind talking? I could use someone to talk to.”

  He took a moment to go into the stranger's Facebook profile. Her name was Sandy Allen. He considered her profile picture a moment. She was pretty…something about her face seemed familiar…and then he realized. This woman had an amazing resemblance to a girl he’d had a mad crush on in third grade. Clearly, it wasn't her, but the resemblance was jarring. He scrolled to the: ‘About’ icon.

  Sandy was a student living in Chicago. Her taste in music was eclectic ranging from hip-hop to soft jazz. Her tastes in books appeared to be young adult romance. She was not religious and was studying accounting.

  He scrolled back to the messages and typed: “don't mind at all. Are you by chance related to Becca Davis from Utah?”

  “Not that I know of. Why do you ask?”

  “Just somebody I knew a while ago. You remind me of her.”

  “Nope, no relation.”

  “What would you like to talk about?”

  "Can't get enough of that video," Sandy continued. “It always makes me smile. Do you mind if I friend you? Make it easier to find that video when I'm feeling down and need a smile?”

  “Better yet,” Travis replied. “I'll go friend you.”

  He went back to her page and clicked the ‘Friends’ icon, ‘friended’ Sandy, and returned to his message board.

  “Okay, we're friends. What would you like to talk about?”

  “We could talk about the video. Your wife must love it.”

  “I'm not married.”

  “Then I bet Charlie’s mom loves it.”

  Travis pulled back. “How do you know my daughter’s name?”.

  “Her name is all over the video’s comments.”

  “Oh, of course. Far as I know, Charlie's mom doesn't know about the video, Long story. You're a student?”

  “You trolled my Facebook profile?”

  “Wanted to know who I'm walking to.”

  “Yeah student. How about you?”

  “I'm an electrician.”

  “I had a hard day today.”

  Hmm, quick change of subject, Travis thought. Must be boring her.

  “Oh, I could tell you about hard days,” Travis answered. “What do you want to know about them?”

  “How to avoid them.”

  “you got me there. I haven't a clue how to avoid them.”

  He waited a moment and then resumed.

  “So... tell me about your bad day.”

  “It's my work. I just had a lot of pressure today.”

  “So, you're a working student?”

  “Yeah.”

  “See now, I know I can help you. I'm the king of pressure.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.”

  “What do you do that brings you so much pressure?”

  “I'm an IBEW electrician general foreman.”

  “Mm, sounds impressive. Who pressures you?”

  “The superintendent, the owner of the company, the Union, the project supervisor...it goes on and on, but mostly I apply the pressure. I'm the pressure applier. They call me the pressure cooker I apply so much pressure.”

  “Oo, you sound scary.”

  “I'm very scary.”

  “You don’t look very scary on that video with your little girl.”

  Travis pulled back. This person seemed to have a real interest in his little girl. He decided to proceed with caution.

  “That video was just a little thing we did for my mother. I should take it down.”

  “Oh no, don't. It's going viral and you're... and little Charlie is adorable. I've watched that video ten times.”

  Travis decided to delete the video the moment this conversation was over.

  “Do you have any kid
s?” He continued finally.

  “No, no kids.”

  “What do you do for a living between classes.”

  After a reasonably long pause the texts continued: “I'm a, I'm an accountant.”

  “What does an accountant do?”

  “We...account for things.”

  “What things?”

  “Budget, payroll things.”

  “Tell me about the pressure.”

  “Hope I don't scare you away with that video thing. I'm harmless. Honest I am.”

  Travis was surprised at how transparent he was apparently being. He felt a little foolish for his mistrust.

  “I think I’m gonna delete it.”

  “Please don't. I won't look at it anymore.”

  “What do you like so much about that video?”

  “I don't know,” the answer came. “It's just so tender. You two have this magic. You’re very lucky, you know. So is Charlie. A lot of people don't have magic.”

  “You don't have any magic?”

  “No magic.”

  “It's kid's, you know. The magic comes with kids.”

  “Is that the secret?”

  “That's it.”

  “How am I supposed to get a kid?”

  “I'm probably not the one you need to talk to about that. Just talk to any grownup.”

  “LOL, that's not what I meant, dork.”

  “You're young,” Travis continued. “Magic will come. Don't be in such a hurry.”

  “But I'm lonely.”

  Travis paused a moment. This conversation was suddenly getting heavy. Finally, he continued.

  “You're young; you're pretty; you have a lot of friends. Why would you be lonely?”

  “Sometimes a crowd is the loneliest place a person can be.”

  “I wouldn't know about that. I spend as little time as possible being in crowds.”

  Travis waited a half hour for the next message but it never came. Too bad, he thought. He was starting to feel at ease with this stranger.

 


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