“Yes, we were supposed to have a date, but you know him, he’s a workaholic.”
Marie studied me in a way that made me self-conscious. “How’s everything been going with you two?”
“It’s been fine,” I replied, not really wanting to talk about the man in my life.
My main squeeze.
My significant other.
My other half.
These days he certainly didn’t feel like the other half of me, or in any way significant. In fact, he merely felt like the person with whom I shared a bed, a bathroom and kitchen/lounge facilities.
I loved him but, well, something was missing. Maybe it was never there to begin with. Or maybe I just needed to accept that it was a real-life relationship. Real-life relationships were nothing like relationships in movies starring Kate Hudson.
Marie arched a brow. “Just fine?”
“Fine is good. Fine is better than not fine. Fine is better than very many things.”
“Janie, the fact that you’re using the word ‘fine’ so much makes me suspect things aren’t fine.”
“We’ve been together a long time,” I said. “And when you’re with someone a long time, things are no longer exciting, passionate, electric or a whole host of other adjectives. When you’ve been with someone a long time, things are usually fine, and so, that is what they are between Jon and I.”
“You’re talking in circles,” Marie griped just as the door opened to a building we passed. It was a black door, non-descript, and didn’t appear to lead to a business. However, when it opened, a loud round of cheers and clapping rang out, before a familiar Bostonian accent said, “And that’s why I don’t buy microwaves from gypsies no more.” Laughter ensued.
“Weird punchline,” Marie muttered as I grabbed her elbow and pulled her inside.
“This is the place,” I said as we stepped into the dark club. It was one of those bars that people only knew about through word of mouth. Pretentious, yes, but obviously a good marketing tactic since the place was packed. When people thought something was exclusive, they tended to want it more. It was psychological. Like, if someone told me there were only five hot dogs left in a hot dog stand, I’d automatically want a hotdog more than I did a minute ago.
Actually, now I did sort of want a hot dog.
“This is it?” Marie asked, not sounding very enthusiastic about being pulled into an unmarked building.
“Yes, look! There he is,” I replied in a hushed voice and pointed to the stage where Jay stood doing a card trick for a woman in the front row. He wore the same jeans from earlier and a black tank top. Now I could see the extensive tattoos that covered his arms, and though I’d never been particularly attracted to that sort of look, I had to admit they suited him.
Marie looked from the stage and then to me. “Okay, not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. Some guy in a dickey bow pulling a rabbit out of a hat.”
“I guess that is what we imagine when we picture a magician.”
“He’s a bad boy,” Marie said, pointing her finger at the stage. “I never knew you were into bad boys, Janie.”
“I’m not. I have a boyfriend. Jon, remember?”
“And he’s cocky,” Marie went on, ignoring my statement. “Look at that smirk and those dimples. The poor woman might as well hand over her panties right now.”
The woman she referred to was the one Jay had roped into volunteering for his trick. I briefly wondered what she did for a living, still unsure if I was disgruntled or flattered that I wasn’t suitable as a volunteer. I liked to imagine it was because I was just too darn smart.
“He’s not cocky,” I replied. “He’s confident. Cockiness implies arrogance.”
“Well, too much confidence can lead to cockiness,” Marie said. “It’s a fine line.”
“Ladies, there’s an $8 entry fee, but I’ll let you in for $5 since you’ve missed a lot of the show,” said a man in a black blazer. Neither of us had noticed him sitting by the door.
“Yes, sorry, we got a little lost. You don’t make this place easy to find,” I said, keeping my voice low so as not to interrupt the show. I rummaged in my purse for some money and handed him a rumpled ten. He gave us two ticket stubs and Marie and I quietly made our way to some empty seats at the back.
We brought our attentions to the stage when Jay spoke. “For my next trick, I’ll need another volunteer,” he said and scanned the audience.
Marie nudged me with her elbow. “You should do it.”
I shook my head. “I don’t make a good volunteer, apparently.”
She frowned. “What? Why?”
Before I could respond, Jay said, “You, the red head at the back, you had your hand up, right?”
I blinked. Jay was staring right at me, confident smile in place. How had he even seen me back here? And I definitely hadn’t had my hand up. The slight twitch of his lips told me he knew well and good that I hadn’t.
“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else,” I called out.
“Aw, don’t chicken out now,” Jay teased and people started turning their attention to me, whispering and speculating.
I straightened. “Somebody once told me that I don’t make a very good volunteer for magic tricks.”
“This isn’t your typical magic trick. You’ll be more of a spectator than a volunteer,” Jay pushed, undeterred.
“Go on,” Marie whispered giddily and nudged me out of my seat, “get your butt up there.”
Disgruntled, I stood and wiped my sweaty palms on my skirt, suddenly nervous. I tried to recall if I’d ever been on an actual stage before. Maybe in a childhood school play.
I walked up the rows until I reached the stage, but there were no steps leading up. Jay reached down and took my hand, his magnetic eyes meeting mine. They dazzled me, made feel like a kid stepping into a funfair. A jolt went through me at the feel of his palm. When was the last time Jon had held my hand? I honestly couldn’t remember. A second later Jay led me to the center of the stage where there was a narrow bench. It was the only set piece, the rest of the area being empty.
Jay gestured for me to sit then pulled a newspaper out of his back pocket. They seemed to be a favored prop of his. He sat next to me, his thigh resting against mine and I wondered if it was intentional. Soft piano music started to play. Carefully, he unfolded the paper, first taking one sheet and spreading it out on my lap, then taking another and spreading it out on his. He continued in this vain, speaking as he worked his way through the paper.
“The Victorian art critic John Ruskin once said that a little thought and a little kindness are often worth more than a great deal of money. When I was a young kid, I didn’t have a home. I slept on the streets and in abandoned buildings, and sometimes the only thing that kept me from freezing to death was a bit of old newspaper that I used to cover my body.”
Both our laps were covered in newspaper. Something in my stomach unfurled at his unexpected, yet casually spoken words. He’d been homeless? A sense of sadness filled me up just to think it.
Still talking, Jay continued spreading the newspaper out over our laps until he used every sheet. Then, he began to carefully fold it, starting at the outer corners and working his way in.
“Someone might’ve left their newspaper on a park bench, not realizing that later I would find it and use it to survive another night. Maybe you could call that unconscious kindness. They had no clue they were helping me by leaving that paper behind. Then you have conscious kindness. One day I was performing magic tricks on the street, and a smartly dressed woman dropped a hundred-dollar bill into my hat. That hundred might’ve been a drop in the bucket for her, but to me it meant I could go buy myself a sleeping bag and food to last the next two weeks. It meant survival. The sleeping bag was cheap, sure, but it might as well have been a four-poster bed at the Four Seasons compared to what I was used to. Her kindness that day was like seeing a flower bloom when you
’ve been traipsing through an arid desert, because you know that means water is near.”
I was captivated by his tale of hope, the soft piano music tinkering at my heart strings. I was so transfixed that I only now realized he’d folded the sheets of newspaper in a way to look like a bunch of flowers. He held them out to me, but before I could take them there was a rustle and a beautiful white dove emerged from the paper. I gasped. It flew out and landed on Jay’s hand. My pulse thrummed, it was so unexpected.
“Her kindness was a miracle. It was a white dove flying out of a bit of tatty old newspaper. People don’t need much. Sometimes we just need someone to be kind to us. One act of kindness can transform our lives. Often, our inclination is to hoard what we have, keep it all for ourselves, going to no use, when there’s someone out there whose entire world could be changed if we gave them just a tiny portion of what’s ours. Tupac Shakur said this world is a gimme, gimme, gimme, everybody back off place. He asked how one person could have $32 million dollars and another person could have nothing,” he swiped his hands around his dove and it disappeared. Wow. “And yet the person with 32 million can still sleep at night. I guess what I’m trying to say is, the only way the world will ever get better is if we’re kinder, if we share a little of what we’ve got but don’t need, with the next person who hasn’t got it and does need it. After that day when the lady gave me that money, things started to slowly get better for me. It was the starting point to me getting off the streets. So, there’s your proof.”
As he spoke, Jay tore the newspaper flowers strip by strip. Pieces of paper fell to the floor like so much confetti, until only one folded and torn piece was left. “Kindness worked for me, and maybe it can work for you, too,” he finished, then unfolded the paper. There was an audible gasp, because somehow, he’d managed to tear it in a way to form the words “Be Kind”. He threw the paper into the audience, took a bow, then walked off the stage.
I sat there, enthralled, as the audience gave their applause. I couldn’t move, was still absorbing his speech and the beauty of the act, the meaning of his words and the simple truth of them. This was the first time I’d felt true wonder since I was a kid. When I realized I was still sitting there, slack jawed, I got up, and instead of climbing off the stage I walked in the direction Jay had gone.
I found him backstage, placing his dove in a cage before taking a swig from a bottle of water.
“That was beautiful,” I breathed, snagging his attention. His smile lit up his face, and there was an energy about him, a kinetic field that shimmered and pulsed.
“Glad you liked it, Janie.”
“Why did you ask me up on stage?”
He gave a little grin and lifted a shoulder. “Felt like you needed a thrill.”
Hmmm, maybe I did. I certainly felt…I don’t know, more alive somehow. But still, I sensed that wasn’t the reason. “I don’t believe you.”
“Maybe I just wanted an excuse to charm you. See if you’ll take me home with you tonight. My hotel’s been feeling a little lonely.”
My mouth fell open. I closed it. “I told you, I have a boyfriend, and we live together, so—”
“But if you didn’t live together…” Jay arched a suggestive brow. Perhaps Marie was right about him being cocky after all. He threw his hands up. “Relax, I’m joking. I’m just happy you decided to come. I was a little disappointed when you didn’t show.”
“I was late because this place is so ridiculously difficult to find.”
“Why didn’t you just Google it?”
“I…” I trailed off, not wanting to get into the whole Google thing again. “I don’t have a cell phone, remember? Anyway, I just wanted to say that I think you’re very talented, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you make it big one of these days. I only caught the end of your performance tonight and it gave me serious chills. Good chills. The kind you get when you’re reminded of a fond memory, not the kind a cat gets when it’s frightened. Did you know that we inherited goosebumps from our animal ancestors? When cats are scared, they get goosebumps and their hair stands on end to make them look bigger, and therefore more threatening to the predator that’s frightening them. Anyway, I’m getting off topic. What I mean is, your act is incredible, and I want to make sure you know it. Plus, your message really struck a chord with me, and with a lot of people in the audience I’m sure. You’re not just doing magic tricks, you’re making people think. And making people think is important. People don’t think enough these days, if you ask me.”
“Janie.” Jay’s voice was seductive whisper.
“Yes?”
“Shut up for a second.” His eyes glittered as he took a step forward, placed his hands on either side of my face, and kissed me right on the lips. With tongue. My heart stuttered, and I wobbled on my feet. I was dumbstruck and tingling all over. One hand left my face so that he could wrap his arm around my waist, probably to keep me from toppling over, which I was thankful for. I’d taken my fair share of swan dives in my time and they weren’t pretty.
What was pretty was Jay’s warmth, and the soft, sure pressure of his lips on my lips, the wet slide of his tongue on my tongue. I closed my eyes and surprised myself with a girlish moan. I rarely moaned, and certainly not girlishly.
He smelled good, too. Like cloves and manliness. Unwittingly, I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him to me, wanting to prolong the kiss. When Jon kissed me, it didn’t feel like this. When Jon kissed me, I felt a surprising amount of nothingness. Right now, I felt a surprising amount of everything-ness.
Jay was alive in a way I’d never experienced before.
Wait a second, Jon!
In a rush, I pushed away from Jay and wiped my hand across my mouth as though that might erase the amazing kiss we’d just shared. As though it might eradicate the guilt that started to niggle at me.
I wasn’t a cheater. I would never cheat, but…
Hell. I got swept up in the moment, and getting swept up in moments was the downfall of many a lady.
“I think I have a crush on you,” Jay purred with that mischievous grin I was coming to recognize.
I wagged my finger at him, feeling breathless “That was…that was…”
“Phenomenal, I know.”
“Oh, my goodness, you are cocky,” I blurted, flustered.
“I prefer the term unquietly confident, or loudly self-assured, but cocky works, too,” he said, stepping toward me again. I took a step back. He kept coming at me and I kept moving away until my back hit a wall.
“Hey, I get it. You’re taken, but I couldn’t help myself. You’re a very tempting woman, Janie Morris.”
I laughed then, because no one had ever described me as tempting before. Cute, yes. Chatty, sure. Clever, of course. But never tempting. I was flattered, I couldn’t help it. I liked the way he saw me. He saw me in a way most people didn’t, and it was a tiny bit intoxicating. Okay, a lot intoxicating.
I needed to get a hold of myself, go home to my boyfriend and forget about this mesmerizing man, this magician who had very much cast a spell over me.
And I didn’t even believe in magic.
“You know, it’s too bad I gotta leave and go back to Boston tomorrow. If I was sticking around this boyfriend of yours would have himself some serious competition.”
I giggled, unable to help being charmed. I folded my arms across my chest, probably to keep from grabbing him and kissing him again. It was wrong. I knew that. But Gloria Estefan was right, the bad boys made you feel so good. “I’m sure he would. If I ever come to Boston, I’ll be sure to look you up.”
“And if I ever come back to Chicago, you better believe I’ll be darkening your door, Janie Morris. Your door will be so fucking darkened you won’t know where to turn. Or look.”
That didn’t even make any sense, but I was still laughing. Jay had wacky sense of humor and a funny way with words. He came forward, pressed a soft kiss to my cheek before whispering, “I guess I’ll see you around
. Promise you won’t forget about me?”
He was gone before I had a chance to reply. I didn’t see which way he went, but I was suddenly aware of my hair around my shoulders. I reached up, unable to find my hair tie. Why that little…
He’d let my hair down again, and I hadn’t even seen or felt him doing it. His sleight of hand really was up to scratch. That was two hair ties he’d stolen from me now. I was going to have to start keeping a tab.
I definitely didn’t need to make the promise though, because there was no way I’d forget him any time soon.
“There you are,” Marie exclaimed. “It took me forever to convince them to let me come back here and look for you.”
“I was talking to Jay,” I replied, still a little flustered from his kiss and sudden departure – and hair accessory theft.
“Oh, where’d he go? I was hoping to ask him to come for drinks with us. I want to pick his mind about the trick he did with the dove.”
“He’s gone. I’m not sure we’ll be seeing him again, not for a long time anyway.”
Marie seemed disappointed. “Well, that’s too bad.”
“Yeah, it is.”
I had a feeling Jay was one of those people who never settled anywhere. He flittered into your life, left a big impression, and then was gone almost as quickly as he came. Like a fairy god-mother, or a genie in a lamp. Only I never got my three wishes. Just a kiss I’d be dreaming about for many nights to come.
Marie slid her arm through mine. “Come on, let’s go to the bar. The first two lemon drops are on me.”
As she led me through the club, something on the floor caught my eye. It was a piece of torn up newspaper, but when I bent down and picked it up I realized it wasn’t just any old bit of paper. It was the same one Jay had thrown from the stage, the one the was shaped into the words “Be Kind”. Without thinking, I folded it up and put it in my pocket.
He had my hair ties, it was only fair I got to keep a memento of this most unforgettable and magical night, too.
End.
Cocktales Page 16