The Real

by James Cole

  Monika, however, was in no hurry. There were exactly seven concrete steps that led from the fountain to the lower level of the parking area where he waited. Jeremy knew there were seven steps because, in his extreme impatience and paranoia, he counted each one as Monika glided down as deliberately as a beauty pageant contestant.

  “Get in,” he said in a tone made gruff by his high anxiety.

  Monika looked a little surprised at his manner but did not hesitate to climb into the passenger seat and shut the door.

  “Hey you,” she said sweetly. “Wanna burn?”

  “Maybe,” he began, “we should just ride around for a bit and talk.”

  “Alright,” she replied. “That sounds good – for starters.”

  “So whatever happened to the little package I passed to you at the ice cream parlor?”

  Jeremy steered the car and its incriminating human cargo away from his condo and away from the well-lit downtown area. “I took it,” replied Jeremy with a smile. “Last night.”

  “Did you come looking for me last night?” she asked.

  “I wouldn’t say I was necessarily looking for you,” he replied, “but I did drive by Bar Nowhere.”

  “I didn’t see you inside,” she said.

  “I didn’t go inside,” he said. “How did you even know I came by?”

  “A little bird told me.”

  “Who, Trey?” asked Jeremy, following a hunch.

  “Trey?” she asked. “Who’s Trey?”

  “Never mind.”

  Any one of several persons outside the bar could have seen him. He wondered if maybe Monika had employed one of the members of her secret group to watch for him. He did not know whether to be flattered or creeped out.

  “Did you see my car?” she asked.

  “I did.”

  “So why didn’t you come in and say hello?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy replied. “It was late and I was tired…”

  Cunningly, Monika placed her hand lightly atop Jeremy’s right hand as he operated the gearshift. He did his best not to show it on the outside but his insides quivered in response to her touch.

  She asked, “So, are you tired now?”

  “A little.” When he answered, Jeremy’s voice cracked, having reverted, along with his willpower, back to the days of his adolescence.

  “Wanna burn?” she asked.

  Tell her no, pleaded an inner voice.

  Jeremy did not know what to feel when it came to Monika. It seemed like every time he resolved to move on, she reappeared.

  Damn this infatuation, this obsession.

  He knew that it was in no one’s best interest for him to yield to her again. Less than 24 hours ago, sitting outside Bar Nowhere, he promised to put aside all thoughts of Monika and the Unreal.

  When he stopped at the deserted four-way stop, Monika lifted his hand from the gearshift lever and held it in both of hers. She looked sweetly into his eyes. He knew she was trying to seduce him, just like old times. But was that such a travesty? How could he turn down this beautiful girl who wanted to be with him?

  What to do, what to do? The voice in his head reached a fever pitch. Say something – anything!

  Finally, he blurted out, “I’m engaged.”

  This was the radical plan Jeremy hatched last night, his resolution to commit himself once and for all to Jinni. He had even gone so far as to purchase a ring from the downtown jewelry store, even though he probably could have found a better deal elsewhere. In spite of that fact, the declaration just delivered to Monika was not true. Jeremy had purchased an engagement ring, but Jinni, as of yet, was unaware. He had intended on presenting it to her tonight.

  “What?” Monika asked, clearly taken aback. “Don’t tell me…”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Jeremy removed his hand from Monika’s double-fisted grip. “I’m getting married.”

  Monika looked at him slyly as if she sensed his deception.

  “So you see,” he continued, “I have commitments and I can’t drop everything just because you appear out of the blue.”

  That should have been enough. Jeremy thought he had said the one thing that would discourage Monika. Certainly, after this verbal slap in the face, she would let him go.

  “What if I told you it would be different this time?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?” asked Jeremy.

  “What if I told you I wanted to be your girlfriend?”

  Jeremy stopped just short of laughing out loud. “Really?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied in all seriousness. “Really.”

  “Girlfriend?” Jeremy’s curiosity was stoked. Even if he didn’t plan on accepting her proposal, he could not wait to hear where Monika was going with this. “Why now?” he asked.

  “I just don’t think we’ve given this a chance to run its course.”

  “And what would that entail – your being my girlfriend?”

  “That’s a dumb question,” she replied. “I suppose it would be like you and what’s-her-name.” Monika smiled and added, “But without the ring.”

  “Maybe if the circumstances were different…” he replied in a last-ditch effort to resist the onslaught.

  “Couldn’t we just have one more night tonight?” Monika’s hand slithered over the console to rest on the inside of his thigh. “No one would have to know.”

  All he had to do was say no but it was that all-too-familiar voice of his insatiable longing, that virus of his mind that overrode everything else. Not coincidentally, the words mirrored those just spoken by Monika.

  Just one more night, it said. No one would have to know.

  He wavered. He wavered, and she recognized it.

  “I know you want to kiss me,” Monika said huskily.

  And so, under the light of a lone streetlight at the deserted four-way stop, only hours after buying Jinni’s engagement ring, Jeremy succumbed to his dark angel’s embrace.

  *****

  When Jeremy looked up from the kiss, headlights had unexpectedly appeared in his rear view mirror. Jostled by the realization that they were not alone in the world, Jeremy pulled smartly away from the four-way stop.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Monika handed him a little lavender capsule and said, “I want to go for a ride on your motorcycle.”

  “You mean the crotch rocket?” he quipped.

  “Crotch rocket?” asked Monika. “Interesting connotation.”

  Monika pointed to his clasped hand. “Aren’t you going to take that?” she asked.

  With nothing in the car to drink, Jeremy took a second to gather extra saliva in the back of his mouth. “Are you serious about riding the motorcycle?” he asked after he dry-swallowed the capsule.

  “Dead serious,” she replied.

  “I don’t think you know what you are getting yourself into.”

  “Maybe not,” she said, “but I’m willing to take the chance.”

  “Right now?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  Against his better judgment Jeremy retraced their route back to his condo. In kissing Monika and accepting the Unreal she offered, he felt obliged to do her bidding. Back at his condo, he waited impatiently for the garage door to raise itself.

  Once inside the garage, Jeremy took a good look at Monika and the clothes she had on. She wore faded blue jeans and a shirt just short enough in the front to show off her belly button ring. Her pants fit nicely, tightly, and a sunflower with yellow-orange petals and a big black (dilated) center adorned the front of her white tee. Even though the night was unseasonably warm, she would need more clothes to offset the wind chill on the back of the motorcycle.

  “You’re going to need a jacket,” he said.

  “I didn’t bring one.”

  As much as he wanted to get on the bike and vamoose, he had to say, “Hang on, I’ll run upstairs and get you one.”

  Right on his heels, she said, “If you don’t min
d, I need to use your bathroom before we go.”

  “Sure, okay.” Jeremy tried to hide his reluctance. He felt very uncomfortable taking Monika upstairs with Jinni only ten minutes out the door, especially considering that Jinni had a key to his condo.

  While Monika peed, Jeremy retrieved a coat from the entrance closet. He was happy he remembered to grab his music player and the headphones from his bedroom.

  “What’s this?”

  Monica had returned from the bathroom and promptly discovered the two photos lying on Jeremy’s computer table. He had printed hard copies of the photos that Quintin had emailed to him, photos of the two Claire Wales’ paintings.

  “Do you know what you’re looking at?” he asked.

  “I believe these would both be paintings by a certain Claire Wales, am I right?” Monika spoke boastfully.

  “Ah, so you do know something of the hippie queen after all.”

  “A little bit,” she admitted.

  Jeremy responded with a wry grin. “I figured as much,” he said without elaborating. Now was not the time to mention what he knew of the connection between Monika’s Unreal and the hippie queen’s lotus blooms.

  Jeremy traipsed over to where Monika stood and peered over her shoulder. She was studying the photo of Claire’s cemetery painting, The Ends. He asked, “It’s the young girl that makes the paintings, don’t you think?”

  “I suppose,” she replied noncommittally.

  “You’re the artist,” Jeremy said, pressing her. “Why do you think the child appears in Claire’s paintings?”

  “I doubt that anyone can look at a painting and fully know the mind of the artist,” she replied, “but I do have a theory.”

  When she didn’t immediately expound, Jeremy said, “I’d like to hear it.”

  “Promise not to laugh?” Monika asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I believe the child represents the hippie queen as a child and everything that is beautiful and sacred about childhood. The child is Claire before she lost her innocence.”

  “But the child looks so sad,” he said. “Do you think that means Claire had an unhappy childhood?”

  “No, that’s not it at all. The child, or her childhood, is lost to her but at the same time she is the child.” Deflating her air of assuredness a bit, she added, “Anyway, that’s my theory.”

  Jeremy wondered if Monika’s interpretation might be more a projection of her own psyche rather than that of the hippie queen.

  “I suppose we would all like to recapture certain aspects of our childhoods,” Jeremy said, trying to keep Monika talking. “I know I had some fun times growing up.”

  Monika bit: “I think you are missing the point. What is lost is so much more than just a few fun times. Consider a child’s zest for life. Everything is new and fascinating. A child can truly live in the moment, putting all worries aside. There are no devious intentions, no hidden agendas. Everything a child of a certain age thinks and does springs from a pure heart. That, the innocent heart of a child, is what the hippie queen yearns to recapture.”

  “Impressive.” Jeremy patted his hands together in quiet applause. “I wish I could look at a painting and see so much. I guess that’s why you’re the artist and I’m just a wannabe scientist.”

  On a roll, Monika didn’t stop there. “I think that’s one reason why we are drawn to the Unreal. For a short time we forget our worries and beat back our self-consciousness. We can allow ourselves to be excited about life and more open to what this world has to offer.”

  “Too bad the trip only lasts for a few hours.” Jeremy smiled to himself and thought how he might not be artistically inclined but he had succeeded in getting Monika to talk. For once, he thought she had revealed a part of her real self to him. “Speaking of which,” added Jeremy as he indicated the door. “We should probably get going before it hits.”

  Downstairs in the garage, Jeremy asked, “Have you ever been on a racing bike?”

  Jeremy maneuvered the motorcycle through the narrow space between the car and the garage wall.

  “I’ve ridden motorcycles before,” she replied nonchalantly as she picked a dead leaf from the inside of her helmet.

  “This is not your everyday motorcycle,” he said. “This is a Hayabusa or ‘Busa for short, arguably the fastest production motorcycle in the world.”

  “Well, la-dee-da to you,” she said.

  Jeremy ignored her sarcasm. “Couple of things – first thing is hang on tight – real tight. We don’t want you to fall off the back when I take off. The other thing is that, if the bike don’t lean, the bike don’t turn. So don’t fight the lean. Got it?”

  Jeremy could not help laughing gustily at Monika, who, with difficulty, had donned her headgear and stood, alien-like, with the oversized helmet perched atop her petite body.

  “What is so funny?” she asked.

  “You are,” he replied. For the first time Jeremy thought he saw a chink in her heretofore impenetrable armor of self-assurance.

  On the firing up of the engine Monika wrapped her arms around his waist and molded her body delightfully tight against his. As they waited to merge into the string of cars looping round the downtown square, Jeremy’s worrisome feelings dogged him. Sitting still under the bright streetlights, he felt more exposed than ever. What if Jinni were still out and about? What if she caught him with Monika?

  As best he could manage, Jeremy willed a mental about-face. If he were going to do this, he could not worry himself sick. It was the sing-song voice of the carnie pinball machine of days past that advised: Ya spin the wheel, ya take ya chances…

  And so, as in a school-boy’s dream, Jeremy cruised the Saturday night streets on a tricked-out motorcycle with a girl as wild and beautiful as Aphrodite, the glory of the moment made sweeter by the promises of the Unreal, which hovered just beyond the teetering precipice of anticipation.

  “Faster! Go faster!”

  Monika screamed with a wonderful, unbridled enthusiasm. Had it been Jinni’s arms wrapped around his waist, she would probably be urging him to slow down. That was the difference between Monika and Jinni. Of course, if Monika truly wanted speed, there was only one place to be.

  Jeremy took advantage of the opportunity to be heard at the last stop sign before Sticks River Road. “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I think so,” she replied.

  Monika’s pupils looked engorged, like maybe the Unreal was starting its inevitable surge through her brain, which made Jeremy think that perhaps he too was starting to get off.

  “One more thing-” Jeremy pulled out two sets of ear-bud headphones and handed one to her. “For our listening pleasure…”

  “What is our pleasure?” she asked.

  “You know.”

  She smiled a perfect little smile. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?”

  He stuck his in his ears and waited until Monika got hers positioned. He felt for the play button on the digital music player he had tucked away in his coat pocket. When the music of Singe began to play, Jeremy threw one last look at her, gave the thumbs up gesture and slid the protective visor over his face. Monika followed suit.

  “Burn, baby, burn,” he muttered, even though neither he nor Monika could hear his voice over the music.

  As best he could, Jeremy fought back the urge to immediately rocket out of the gate. He kept the considerable forces of acceleration available to him tamped down and built their speed slowly and deliberately, a patient lover. But when the song he loved kicked in, there could be no holding back. He downshifted to third, released the clutch and goosed the throttle to the engine’s 11,000 rpm rev limiter. Despite their velocity, the front wheel lifted more than a few inches off the ground, a testament to the power of the engine beneath them. Despite the wheelie, Jeremy did not back off the throttle, a testament to the invincibility that he felt.

  Never before had Jeremy taken a passenger as fast as this. It was almost a spiritual experience, he and Monika an
d the speed of the bike in simultaneous climax with the ecstasy of the Unreal and the song he loved.

  *****

  Just inside the outer boundary of Reefers Woods, on the far side of the first hill past the Keep Out sign, they came upon the oddest of sights. There, on the edge of the road were two individuals, a young boy and a grandmotherly figure. The woman’s hand was clamped onto the boy’s arm as she dragged the reluctant child along the roadside in the direction of the lake.

  Jeremy slowed, but the motorcycle was on them and past in an instant. As he applied heavy pressure to the brakes, he felt Monika’s body press into his back. Only when she dug her fingers into his side did he think to shut off the music.

  When she could make herself heard, she asked in a voice muffled by her helmet, “What is it? Why are you stopping?”

  Jeremy did a u-turn in the middle of the deserted road and raised his visor. “I’m not sure,” he replied. “I thought I saw something back there.”

  He drove past the skid mark painted on the pavement, turned around and drove slowly back toward the lake. When Jeremy got back to the spot where he thought he saw the two figures, he swung the bike around so that the headlights shone into the thick underbrush. There was no sign of anyone or anything out of the ordinary. Nobody was there.

  Jeremy let loose a nervous little chuckle. It wasn’t the first time he had experienced a hallucination in Reefers Woods. Interestingly, he was pretty sure the old lady beside the road tonight was the same one who appeared with the children at the bonfire during Jeremy’s prior hallucination. In each instance, it seemed highly improbable that any of the actors could be real.

  Maybe, he thought, that’s why they call it the Unreal, because it can make you see things that aren’t really there. A small price to pay…