by Crowe, Stan
At the outskirts of the park, I stopped and took stock of the area. It was as lovely as ever, despite the July heat. Though I preferred this place at night, the ambience of trees, flowers, singing birds and all that sweet, romance film stuff was soothing, especially compared to the sterility of psych lab cubicles. Sure enough, couples had invaded the entire park. A rash of guys in their early twenties occupied a playground, doing stupid things on slides and monkey bars while equally-young girls looked on in amusement. I rolled my eyes at the brazen, juvenile displays. So much for the old days, when we just brought home animal carcasses or shot another man in a duel.
“Oh look,” Moiré said blandly, “monkeys in jeans.”
I coughed on a spasmodic laugh. Moiré patted me on the back and asked if I needed help clearing my throat, but her serious expression was belied by the mischievous twinkle in her eyes.
“No, no,” I said. I stood, cleared my throat and looked back at the park. “I’m fine. Anyway, I think I see what I was looking for.”
“The redhead sitting alone on the rock?” She pointed to her left.
My face warmed suddenly. “No! I… I… never mind. I didn’t come here to check out girls. Just to observe how they interacted with their boyfriends.”
“Ah.” Her eyes lit with understanding. “How could I forget? My apologies, Doctor Cairn.” Her face turned serious again. “I’ll have to remember that handsome, single, professional guys merely ‘observe’ the ladies. Forgive me for assuming that you’d do something as uncouth as ‘check them out.’”
“Look, Miss De Lanthe,” I traded title for title, “can we please take this a little more seriously? I do have other things to do tonight.”
“With the redhead?” She asked, but then blushed slightly. “Sorry, Nick. You’re easy to tease. I learned it from my brothers. I’m sorry. I hope I haven’t given you the impression that I’m some kind of flake.”
I blinked. “I remind you of… your brothers?”
She raised an eyebrow, but her eyes were clearly playful. “Should I have said you’re just like my dad, instead?”
I couldn’t think of what to say, nor did I know why it would bother me that she might look at me the same way she looked at her brothers or father. Eventually, I shook my head clear and pointed at a spot on the lawn a good distance from the redheaded girl Moiré had pointed out. “I want you over there.”
She looked as if she were about to say something, but then stopped and gave me an inquiring look. “Fair enough. Are you… going to stay here?”
I shook my head. “I’ll be over there,” I said, pointing to a small cluster of trees about twenty yards from where I’d asked Moiré to go.
“I’m sorry,” she said and I could see it in her face. “I honestly wasn’t trying to make a joke about this. If you need me to just go back to the lab instead.…”
I shook my head again. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m not trying to get rid of you by splitting up.”
She seemed relieved and I gave her a reassuring smile.
“Have you ever sketched nudes, Moiré?” I was embarrassed the second the words came out.
“Yes. I have a bulging portfolio from my time spent at the Adonis Colony, back in oh-six.”
I wasn’t sure what shade of red my face turned then. I wasn’t sure whether it was the idea of her frequently examining chiseled, naked males, or whether it was some sort of unexpected jealousy.
“A-Adonis… Colony?” I asked, carefully.
“Yes,” she said plainly. “It’s on a small island just off the coast of Denver.”
I made to speak and then stopped, mouth hanging open like an idiot. Moiré bit back a laugh. I realized what was going on and shook my head at my stupidity.
“Okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best metaphor,” I groaned. “What I was trying to get at was that multiple perspectives are more likely to give a clearer view of the overall picture. That’s why we’ll be sitting in different locations, even though we’re watching the same things.”
“I’m sorry.” She still fought her laughter. “It’s so much easier to be serious in the lab with the formaldehyde in the air from upstairs.”
“It’s okay. Really, I don’t mind the jokes. I’m just… still getting used to them.” I looked at her more seriously and added, “You’ve honestly been the best, most professional research assistant I’ve ever had and the work you’ve done in this past week really tells a shining tale about your competence and intelligence. Don’t worry about a joke or three. Besides, my sisters used to tease me all the time, too. I guess I’ll just think of you as another one of them.” I immediately regretted saying that, but hid it anyway.
“Cool. Then we’re blood.”
“Something like that,” I muttered. “Let’s go to work.”
The time in the park was productive, though I regretted splitting from Moiré. We both sat where I’d assigned us, trying to look casual as we spied on people and made notes about the various, intimate things they were doing. When I first started these observations, I had felt like a low-life voyeur. Time salved that feeling; I reasoned that if I could manage to conduct the kind of experiments that required The Chair with maturity and poise, that benevolently stalking random strangers should be a cakewalk by comparison. And so it had become.
I forced myself to keep my mind on the task at hand and I was proud that I only glanced at Moiré twice and only to see if she appeared to need any help. She’d been kind enough to not even acknowledge that she was with me; I’d told her we needed to do that to avoid attracting attention to ourselves. I was pleased with my self-control.
Two hours later, Moiré perched herself discreetly behind me. I glanced backward and noticed her stowing her items in her bag. She avoided looking at me as she spoke.
“Hey, Nick? I know we might not be quite done here, yet, but I need to take off. Is that okay?”
I nodded. The words “Hot date?” were out before I could think. I mentally cringed at the slip.
She winked. “I promised I wouldn’t tell. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you wouldn’t.”
Whoa. “Um… Moiré?”
She laughed. I kept falling for this why?
“Actually, I need to get going myself.” Ella would be expecting me and I wasn’t about to disappoint her.
Moiré finished packing, zipped up her backpack and stood lithely. “See you Wednesday?”
I got on my feet. “You know the place. I’ll see you then. Have fun! And, don’t forget, Friday we start observations of dinner dates.”
She smiled, but I managed to continue breathing. “Yep. Thanks!” With that, she began walking. Suddenly, she hesitated, then quickly returned.
“Oh and by the way, I oughta show you that portfolio one of these days. Some of those guys? Yeah.” She winked and with a little wave, she was off, leaving me crimson-faced and flustered all over again.
“Good grief, woman,” I muttered. “You’re gonna get someone in trouble with that teasing one day.”
Frankly, I loved it.
I jogged from the park to Ella’s place, but found that I was five minutes early when I actually arrived. Apparently, I had some extra spring in my step that afternoon. Knowing that Ella wasn’t fond of me arriving early, I took a casual stroll around her row of townhomes. Just before 7:00, I rounded the corner nearest her place and pulled up short—a stranger loomed at Ella’s stoop as a tense silhouette in the doorway. He looked like one of those crazy survivalists you’d expect to find roaming the Montana back county. What I could see of his face was a bizarre blend of frustration and longing. I couldn’t see Ella, but I could hear her voice, pitched and agitated. I hurried to her door, worried.
“Nicky!” she shouted as soon as she saw me. She pushed roughly past the stranger and yanked me into a long, very deep kiss that caught me completely off guard. When she was done, I staggered back a step or two, dazed. The kiss left me feeling assaulted, rather than warmly greeted.
“Jake,” s
he said, scowling at the stranger, “this is my future husband, Doctor Nicholas Cairn.”
Jake? Wait, yes. Must be that old friend of Ella’s who Vera had mentioned the other day.
Ella held up her left hand, her large ring glittering in a way that was impossible to miss. “We’re getting married in October. After that, we’ll move somewhere you’ll never find us.”
Somewhere you’ll never find us, I thought. Is he stalking her or something?
“C-Cindy,” Jake stammered, measuring me up quickly, “you told me… right before I deployed, you said.…”
She cut him off. “I said nothing, Jake. And quit calling me Cindy. All my real friends know me as Ella and I’ll thank you to remember that.
“I’m sorry if your little boy fantasies confused that dumb little head of yours, but you and I? We’re nothing. We never were. I played along with you because I felt bad for you, but I never dropped so much as a tear after you left. You don’t deserve a girl like me.”
Jake’s jaw fumbled for a response. Finally, he said, “Cindy, we…. Four whole years, Cindy! I chased you for four whole years! And when I finally caught you, you told me you’d—”
“Ancient history. Your mistake. Now please, leave before I ask my man to show you that you’re not so tough just because you used to be a marine.” Ella thrust me between herself and Jake. I looked at him with confusion and shrugged.
“Get him, Nicky! Let him know never to even talk to me again.”
I tried to step aside, but Ella stayed safely hidden behind me. Jake eyed me with suspicion and borderline disgust. I sighed. I didn’t like being dragged into drama, especially when I was dragged in blind. “Ella, let’s talk about this first. I’m not going to ‘get’ anybody unless they’re really a threat. Would you mind telling me what this is—”
“He wants to rape me!” she screamed. I saw a couple of heads turn across the street and hoped nobody was about to phone the cops.
“Rape you? I wanted to marry you. You know I’d never do that kind of a thing to a lady. Rape you? What is wrong with you, Cindy? You move out west and suddenly you’re too good for your friends? You think we’re just a bunch of backwards nobodies who go around taking advantage of women?”
“Whoa!” I spread my arms wide, hoping to calm things. Something told me the threat to Ella wasn’t totally credible. “Let’s just calm down here.”
I looked at Jake. “Okay. I know who Ella is. Mind introducing yourself?”
“He’s nobody, Nicky.” The interruptions were getting annoying. “Let’s go inside right now. I don’t want to have to look at his nasty face for another second.” With that, she seized my arm and nearly sprinted for her door. She dragged me into her townhouse and slammed the door. She had it bolted before I could take a breath, then hurried around the house, pulling curtains and locking anything that might lead to the outside. Jake was calling her name, demanding to talk to her. When Ella’s bustling was done she hauled me upstairs where Jake’s noises were muffled by distance. She pulled me into her bedroom and slammed the door.
She squinted. “I can’t listen to that moron anymore. If he doesn’t stop soon, I’m going to call the cops.”
“You don’t think he’ll just leave if you ask him nicely?”
Her eyes widened. “Seriously, Nick? I don’t want to even see that lunatic, let alone talk to him. If you’re not going to man up and knock him cold, I’ll just have to do things my way.” She let go of me and grabbed her phone.
Okay, so the guy didn’t look like someone I’d immediately trust my future children with, but he hadn’t actually seemed all that psychotic when I met him on the porch. No reason for me to just “knock him cold.” It was also obvious Ella wasn’t telling me the whole story; that bothered me.
“Ella, just… wait. Tell me what makes this guy so bad and I’ll deal with him.”
She stared at me as if I were crazy. “What more do you need, Nicholas? Crazy guy in army clothes who’s probably drunk?” The last part wasn’t true. “And you have the gall to ask me to explain what’s wrong with him? Open your eyes, Nicholas!”
“Has he hurt you? Just tell me, please.”
“I have told you! If that’s not good enough, I don’t know what is. I’m calling the police!”
Since she was determined to have her way, I just dropped my arms and went back downstairs to sit on the couch while she brought down the S.W.A.T. team on her house. Jake was saying something about his time in the war and about how thinking of her kept him alive and sane. I have to admit, I felt for the guy. It’s hard enough going to war, but to come home and find your girl is gone? I got off the couch to talk to him, but then realized that I’d only stir up an even bigger hornet’s nest if I did. I sat down to try to figure a good way out of this. Nothing came to mind.
The flashing lights of a squad car lit the living room fifteen minutes later. I was a little surprised that Jake had stayed out on the porch that entire time; maybe he was as crazy as Ella had said. Crazy or not, his voice stopped as soon as the cops pulled up. Thankfully, he was wise enough to not run. Curious, I rose to go outside, but Ella flew down the stairs before I was even off the couch and was out the door shouting at the cops in a heartbeat. Jake yelled back. The cops were trying to calm Jake and Ella and some evening joggers had stopped to watch. Realizing there was nothing I could reasonably add to the… discussion… I got myself a cold glass of water and laid down on the couch. The time with Moiré earlier had been so much simpler than this. Ella owed me an explanation I knew I wouldn’t get. I suddenly needed a nap.
My watch said 7:36 when the cops finally rolled away with Jake in the back of their squad car. I could have sworn they were out there for at least an hour. Ella’s mood was like curdled milk when it was over and her eyes were fiery until she looked at me; then they were a blizzard. She said something about needing a shower to wash off the filth and told me it was probably best if I just went home. I tried to give her a goodnight kiss, but she just pushed me away and stalked up to her suite.
Knowing things weren’t going to get any better, I collected myself and began the walk home. The fresh July air was a welcome relief and I lost myself in the repetitious beat of my footfalls and the rhythm of evening traffic. Hopefully, things would look better in the morning. If nothing else, some calm, alone time was required. It was going to take something heavy duty to pull her out of this funk.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Hello?”
“Um, er… ah… Samantha?”
“Nick?”
“Maybe?”
“Hi, Nick. Did you… need something?”
“Uh, do you… do you wear dresses?”
“Yes….”
“Can you drink punch?”
“Nick? What’s this all about?”
“Ah… there’s this… kind of… dance… thingy?”
“Nick, there really are better ways to ask me to Homecoming you know.”
Morning brought a chance at redemption. The mail was on the table and I absently leafed through the handful of envelopes. The junk mail was tossed without a second glance. Bills were paid immediately, but I cringed as I thought of the bite those bills were taking out of my bank account. When the checks were ready to be mailed, I examined the last two pieces of mail. The first was from Gatekeeper Bridal, a formalwear shop Ella had fallen in love with. Gatekeeper was over an hour away, but it was “her” store now and she had insisted that I rent my tuxedo from them despite the fact that we had several perfectly acceptable options right in our own backyard. Furthermore, she took the old notion of “it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding” to a new level; she insisted that neither of us see each other in our wedding attire before the ceremony itself. I’d have to take care of my tux entirely without her. That suited me just fine.
I opened the mailer. It was a cream-colored envelope with a professional looking missive informing me that my fitting appointment needed to be changed and would I please call to confirm? I
dialed the number and after some discussion with a saleslady, we settled on the third Monday in August at 3:00 pm. I jotted the new appointment on the mailer, slipped it into my back pocket and entered a reminder into my phone. I promptly forgot about it.
The final envelope was from the Psychology Department. Upon opening it, the official letterhead and fancy script jumped out at me like Courier John on a caffeine high. Let’s read.
Dear Doctoral Student,
The Department of Psychology is holding a banquet for all graduate students who have reached their final semester-worth of course work. Our records show that you are one of these students. We would be pleased if you would join us from 6:00 pm–9:00 pm, Friday, August 1st in the Room 103 of the Pendleton Building.
Dress is semi-formal-to-formal and is free of charge. A live band will also be featured and a dance floor will be provided for those interested.
R.S.V.P. no later than 5:00 p.m. Tuesday, July 29th. You are welcome to bring one guest. Please, no children.
This was perfect—a ready-made date with free food and an excuse for Ella to get really dolled up. Fate had just handed me a slam dunk. The date didn’t even interfere with August’s family reunion. I filed my mail in the wooden box I had for that kind of thing and thought about the best way to broach this subject. Ella didn’t always cool off quickly.
I may only get one chance to make this right.
I made some breakfast and pondered my battle plan over a bowl of Cheerios. When I had settled on a strategy, I grabbed my phone and ordered a dozen red roses from a local florist. I wanted to bite a finger off when the florist quoted me a same-day shipping price, but I knew Ella had a weakness for flowers. Unless I wanted to do a covert operation to win her affection, this was probably my only shot at conquest. I took note of when the order was likely to arrive and thanked the girl on the phone. I hung up and prayed my gambit would take.
In the meantime, I went to campus and logged a few hours of work. I pretended to ignore Moiré’s absence, splitting my attention between work and hoping Ella would warm to my advances. I must have checked my watch two hundred times before I was satisfied that the florist had made their move. I waited another fifteen minutes to be safe and then went outside and found a quiet bench on the trail that wrapped around the south side of campus. I dialed Ella, surprised at just how nervous I was. She picked up on the third ring and I was relieved to hear that she seemed to be in a good mood. Score one for the flower bomb.