Connections

by R. H. Vesely

  Pat did not see Kelley until two months later when he returned home with her assurances that things had calmed down. In that two months, they had had surprisingly little contact. A quick conversation with Kelley from a phone booth where she was clearly upset and crying and then only one letter from her in response to the dozen he had sent.

  On arrival it was immediately apparent to Pat that all was different. They went to friends' parties but Kelley did everything she could to make Pat emotionally uncomfortable, even at the same time that she was openly showing him affection. By the second night Pat was broken and he left the party early and alone a basic emotional wreck. He could not decide whether her motivation was anger or some type of revenge but he knew that something had clicked in her head and for her, their relationship was over. For him, he knew it would not be so easy.

  Ia - Welcome back my friend and may I say life is truly short.

  In - Ah, haven't lost your whit I see.

  Ia - So the blizzard of love ended in a deadly avalanche, wouldn't you say.

  In - Damn you are enjoying this one aren't you.

  Ia - Well I guess you could accuse me of being really cold, ….., but you know somehow in the context of this one, cold seems to fit the bill wouldn't you say.

  In - A million laughs.

  Ia - Perhaps you can find a positive in the fact that you will now have a lot of time to find your next connected pair or have you come to your senses.

  In - I'm going to tell you something that you're not going to want to hear and take it for what it is worth. When I went back, instead of having nothing, I had that feeling again and it was even stronger so if for no other reason than that, it was not a waste. What do you say to that?

  Ia - Same thing as I said before, retrospective wishful thinking. I tried to see it your way but I'm just not able to delude myself. I wish it were so but wishes are not widgets.

  In - What the hell does that mean, wishes are not widgets?

  Ia - Well you see widgets are real parts of a machine and your love is an imaginary part and....... Ok maybe a bit lame but at least I used the same first letter so it almost sounded like something.

  In - Something incredibly stupid.

  Ia - Ok lets not call names Eskimo Pie.

  In - God, now what the hell does that mean.

  Ia - You were conceived out of a blizzard, see, get it, or should I have said Blizzard Bar.

  In - Blizzard Bar, mmmmm, I like the chocolate on those better anyway and by the way I was conceived well before the blizzard.

  Ia - Oh yea and the ones with the toffee crunch are the best, man I got to get back to life. OK Blizzard Bar it is.

  In - Thanks, Ok lets get serious. I've got a proposal for you. You want to get back to life right?

  Ia - Yeah.

  In - Here is something new I have been mulling over. You say you have never had this feeling going back, right.

  Ia - Yup.

  In - Suppose, to have the feeling, you have to go back to a situation where at least one of the pair has this feeling of deep connectedness that I have been talking about. Since you are so cynical and only go for trying to make it easy on yourself, your words, suppose I find a pair who I feel has this connectedness and you jump into them.

  Ia - Right and so you throw me into something like that fabulous duo with love but not a pot to piss in. No thank you.

  In - No, no we can set up some parameters depending upon how much time you have left. I mean if you make it too hard you'll end up getting sent automatically into some unknown though.

  Ia - Actually, I have a long time, I only got here just before you and you still had a long time left. Of course now you have even longer Blizzard Bar, he laughed.

  In - Can we drop the Blizzard Bar, I am serious about this. You said you could sort of see this in that last couple and suppose I am right and you do feel it. Wouldn't you want to know?

  Ia - Actually, all joking aside the answer is yes, I would like to know. If for no other reason than to shut you up. No just kidding, I admit they got to me and I was truly hoping it would work for you. Plus I have always liked to gamble. Actually, one life I liked it a bit too much and it got me killed.

  In - Ok, let us say I admit that the pair I picked was a little unstuck. How about if we look for a pair that seems like they are headed on a more normal path. You know that have some personal ambitions, do not appear to be averse to work and so, though different, would be more likely to create a stable, at least moderately successful life and have a decent car and living situation. You understand when I say successful this is for you and means in terms of the society they are living in.

  Ia - Good because successful likely has a different meaning for you given what I just saw. No offense meant there, only trying to be honest.

  In - None taken and you are somewhat right though, however they can pull it off is fine by me. I admittedly lean towards big leaps. Always been a bit impatient for some reason. - So were on?

  Ia - Were on and may Buddha, Yahweh, Allah, Jesus, Kali and anybody new have mercy on me.

  Chapter 7

  The bar was located on the edge of a University campus but was not a pure student oriented bar. It had locals from the beat neighborhood surrounding the university along with a mix of twenty to thirty year old mostly educated types who were plugging away at some job and trying to figure out where life was going to take them. It had originally been a hardcore drinking bar for the large, now abandoned, Cole Key corporation buildings across the street. So it had that working bar ambiance of a long, worn wood bar backed by wood and glass cases filled with boxes of cheap cigars with a large middle shelf stacked with cheap liquor, way too many flavors of schnapps and the obligatory massive jars of pickled eggs, pickled pigs feet and slim jims. The gustatory pickled delights appeared largely for decoration since it was only about once a month that someone was so drunk that they stupidly asked for one and it would likely take at least another month or perhaps a lifetime to digest one of those eggs. The only window was on the front wall and only big enough to hold an outdated Schlitz Beer sign. The establishment's main attraction was a great jukebox, cheap beer and gritty feel. The bar was supremely dark, smelly and smokey.

  Ed the bartender had been there when it was the old drinking bar and was still showing up six days a week in his white shirt and black vest with his well oiled thinning hair. The bar stools were occupied solely by men, some locals, some not, engaged in conversation except for the local Ernie whose head at this somewhat late hour was firmly ensconced on the bar between his empty shot glass and half filled glass of beer. Next to him sat Randy and Bill.

  "I'm telling you Randy, I have had it with these rich bitches. You get the grilling from the parents, the friggin game playing of 'Oh you don't really care about me' and why don't we go to some lame party. It is exhausting and for what? They are not very good at sex. It's more of a boring process than a thing of passion and smells and god this obsession with having the latest of whatever, ugh. I mean don't these girls ever think about something non social. The time they must spend getting ready to go out never ceases to amaze me."

  "I thought you were hooked up with that girl from Woodward, what the hell does any of this have to do with that?"

  Half listening as usual, Bill continues on his tangent. "So listen to this. I went with Mike the other night to one of those TGIF places and took a seat at their massive oval bar in a position that would let me see the door as everyone walked in. Now, while I am waiting for Mike, I get to see all these people as they come in to this basic pick up place, right. Well you know that everyone of them has just before this looked in a mirror brushed a final primping hand through their hair and thought 'looking good'. It was amazing to see this parade of horrific hairstyles and makeup come through that door. Some really nice looking people, who had taken what life had given them and turned it into something out of a Fellini movie. All so they could ogle the opposite sex and hopefully be lucky enough to have an insipid conversa
tion with a stranger about something other than sex. Or maybe after enough drinks to drunkenly hit the topic early enough so they might still be able to perform. …... Jesus I am a really arrogant asshole aren't I."

  "If the foo shits wear it. So what is your alternative, hard core alcoholism so the urge never arises?"

  "Hmm, good question and interesting possibility. Order me another beer while I take a piss and think," laughed Bill as he slid off his stool.

  Bill had always found the stroll to the urinal and time peeing extremely conducive to thought, the only drawback being that he had trouble peeing when his brain was somewhere else. This coupled with the fact that he had a bad habit of unfocused looking around while thinking often lead to a " hey what the fuck are you looking at you queer!" The word queer or fagot being interchanged depending upon the sleaziness of the bar they were in. So far he had managed to avoid getting his ass kicked but only barely with some of the homophobic muscle bound types. This time on his way to the john, he stopped at a table of slightly drunk, laughing women to talk and complement their looks and say how nice it was to see some women enjoying themselves without men. For, despite all he had just said, when Bill had had a few beers, lust quickly reared its ugly head. If you'd asked Bill he would have simply said "it is my ugly little head that is rearing not lust and believe me, anyone who says these things aren't ugly especially close up is either blind or lying. I mean how women put these in their mouth is beyond me. I just thank god they are willing."

  Randy unlike Bill only lost control of his libido when stinking drunk. Otherwise, he was perhaps the most solicitous and kind person to all, with no visible or auditory showing of lust except when prompted into the topic by Bill. Of course, when drunk, bottled up feelings came spewing forth, subtlety was not the watch word. "You are so fuckin beautiful. I mean it. I would love ta get to know you. I 'm a really nice guy and we could go to my apartment and have fun. What? No response! You bitch you think you're so fuckin hot well you're not. No, no I'm sorry. I just wanna get laid an I dinnen realize you were so fucking cool." At which point Bill would try to sooth feelings, avoid being barred from the location for life and get Randy into the open air where he could spew something other than words. Fortunately, Randy usually only had these moments of libidinous clarity after a recent break up and being a serial monogamist, the events were relatively rare.

  The bathroom was a classic. The walls were papered with old color Sunday comics. Bill's train of thought was immediately broken by a strip consisting of animals, mostly types of birds, in front of a jukebox dressed in jeans, work shirts and ball caps with the following dialogue.

  "You now what I like best about country music is it talks about real life and real peoples struggles."

  Click! The tune plays and lyrics boom forth singing the touching lyric -"you betta shut your mouth before I ram this here beer can up your nose."

  "God, brilliant stuff," said Bill out loud.

  Unfortunately, as he made this statement, Bill's now unfocused glance ended in the direction of the next urinal where a human who would have fit well in the comic strip was relieving himself.

  "What the fuck you lookin at fagot face?"

  No response.

  "I said what the fuck are you lookin at queer bait? You want your ass kicked you fuckin queer?"

  "God no, sorry man, I wasn't looking at anything."

  "You sure as shit were fagot!"

  "Look seriously I wasn't."

  Bill quickly shook out, turned and headed for the door followed by the closing volley of "You better git your ass outta here fagot."

  Being more a lover, not a fighter, Bill made a bee line for the table of women and sat down. Experience had taught him that idiots like his bathroom companion were generally befuddled when "queer bait" was with women. Their limited vocabularies and social ineptness stunned them into silence, followed by a passing grunt. The only potential risk then being if they decided to wait outside "to kick a little ass". The stop, stunned look and passing grunt ensued to form and now it was just hope the event was over.

  He related the bathroom story to the table and then proceeded to ask them about themselves. At his first stop, Bill had taken little notice of the group individually but now he realized some and particularly one were exactly within his lust factor. She had that natural, I am crazy look about her and a pair of beautiful eyes. They exchanged a look and there was no question the game was on. Her name was Kelley.

  "So Bill are you gay? I mean maybe it wasn't so inadvertent as you claim, hmm."

  "Christ, you found me out. I was really hoping to grab that moronic stud's dick and put it to work. How did you guess?"

  "I think it was the broad shoulders and the John Wayne walk."

  "Good one, Kelley."

  So now not only a look, but they had both designedly used the others name and Bill gave her a sideways glance as he asked her friend Mattie where she was from. Kelley clearly took note.

  "Jesus, Kelley and all, I forgot about Randy. He's waiting for me at the bar and we were kind of in the middle of a good talk."

  "Well ask him over," said Mattie.

  "Unless of course, the guy in the bathroom was right and god knows, we don't want to intrude on any intimate moments," added Kelley.

  "That's Ok I'll just give him a big kiss and I'm sure he'll forgive me."

  Randy had been taking this all in and hoping that he was not going to be dragged over to the table, but he knew from past experience, fat chance. Bill sat down at the bar.

  "Well Randy another fine event with a bathroom homophobe."

  "Yeah, I saw the guy who came out after you, a real bubba type. Fortunately for you he left. So what are your continuing thoughts on how to handle the male urge?"

  "Actually, train of thought got a little interrupted. As you may have noticed, I was talking with that table of women and they're pretty interesting and thought you might like to join us. You know, just a little innocent letting the eye repose upon something better looking than us in the barroom mirror."

  "Not really that interested but just as a matter of curiosity, which one are you about to overly react to."

  "Kelley, the dark haired one with the eyes and look of intelligent craziness about her."

  "Knew it, and which one did you quickly surmise would somehow intrigue me."

  "My friend, you know you don't need intrigue. You'll be funny and engaging to them all and they will all think you are the best."

  "A bit thick, but ok, what are they drinking and I will get a round to ease the intro."

  Bill was exactly right and all four of the women loved Randy especially his humorous deprecating remarks towards Bill. What hadn't been predictable, however, was Randy's infatuation with Mattie, clearly the youngest of the bunch. Mattie had an innate sweetness about her and unlike the others, a calm sense of self. Not surprisingly, Bill and Kelley ended up next to each other but now engaged in the process of trying to find out a bit of what the other was about. Through the laughing, and friendly soft pushes, it was clear things were happening, despite the early mention of them both seeing someone. Last call came and all exchanged names and numbers.

  As they left they were greeted by,

  "Hey queer boy, I think its time you and me finished our talk." Jesus thought Bill, her we go.

  "Look, I have no interest in fighting, let's just say I'm sorry for whatever you think I did and lets both go home, ok."

  "I don't think so you fagot."

  "What is your problem? Why do you care whether I am gay or not?"

  "Cause I hate fuckin queers!"

  "Wow, great answer, I can see you have given this some real thought. Well if you're going to kick my ass, how about letting me know your name." Bill was hoping that personalizing the situation would throw his drunken antagonist off the one way road to Bill getting his ass kicked.

  "I don't need to tell no fucking queer my name but its Jonah shithead."

  "Like the guy in the whale, right?"

/>   "Yea, like the guy in the whale."

  As he said this Jonah moved in for the kill. It did not look like this was going to end well thought Bill. The women chimed in with some basic just stop it and go home comments which had the effect of egging Jonah on thinking he would show them his manliness. Bill got hit in the jaw and it hurt like hell but he immediately kicked Jonah in the balls, punched him hard in the nose and smacked him hard on the side of the head. Bill then made a bee line for the car where Randy was waiting and as they peeled out, he yelled

  "Girls, great to talk we'll give you a call."

  "Man Randy, if I had missed old Jonah's balls, I would be doing some serious bleeding right now."

  "Yea, it did not look good for you."

  "Hell, maybe a little beating would have knocked some sense into me. I mean what was I doing with that Kelley girl, Jesus get some friggin control."

  "Not a bad idea, did you come up with this while you were staring at Jonah's dick in the bathroom?"

  "Nice."

  Chapter 8

  Mattie had had what seemed to her a somewhat enchanted upbringing. She was the fourth of four children but considerably younger than her two older sisters and one older brother. She was in fact likely what was often referred to as a mistake but in her case a very welcome mistake. As a result, she was doted over by her older sisters and not subject to the same far stricter upbringing of her siblings. Her parents had mellowed over the years and actually took delight in her unique and often rebellious personality. So Mattie was allowed to grow up a basic free spirit.