by Nate Allen
Lisa/Leslie was an honest “7” and Grace a “5” and in that convoluted and politically incorrect math that occurs everywhere at closing time, they were a collective “6” which seemed like it had all the promise of an unholy night …but then he saw her again. She was now standing at the edge of the dance floor leaning against an empty booth, smiling to herself, enjoying the spectacle of it all, like a child in “time-out” sitting on the bench at the playground wishing she could join the fun, but prohibited from doing so. She was alone at the moment, no friends to run interference or complicate the conversation, fend off unwarranted advances like girlfriends sometimes do, and as one song ended and another began, he seized the opportunity to approach her, leaving the girls dancing by themselves until they eventually noticed his absence, and upon doing so took off to land elsewhere like barflies. “I’m Jake” he said, extending his hand to shake hers, and noticing the wedding band in doing so. “I’m Rae Anne” she replied, he paused for a moment, struck by the irony of it. “That’s interesting, my father’s name was Ray, and my mother’s name is Ann, nice to meet you Rae Anne.” “That’s more than interesting.” she chimed back, I was named after my father and mother. They shared a comfortable laugh for two people who had just met, each simultaneously recognizing the extraordinary chance of it all, she thought of it as a coincidence …he would think of it as meaningful. In the matter of about a minute and a half she had managed to make him nervous, perhaps not overtly so, but nonetheless he felt the tension radiating from his neck down his spine to his limbs. It was a compliment to her and his immediate attraction towards her, it was rare in his adult life, and it excited him. Though it’s in our nature to extinguish the feeling, fight or flight syndrome so to speak, he welcomed it, it was a good kind of nervous, and he struggled to conceal it for fear of how she might perceive it.
While he on the one hand looked better from a distance, she was now uncomfortably more striking the closer he got, full, pursed lips, green eyes, and dark hair and her body was womanly. Everybody has their type, or types as the case may be, and it was as if he had designed her for himself. If he had been a caveman he would have clubbed her over the head, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her back to the cave where they would’ve lived happily ever-after and proceeded to populate the planet, that not being a viable option however, small talk leading somewhere seemed like the next best choice in his entranced state.
A short friendly conversation about the usual stuff, which he would remember nothing of, followed an unnaturally natural path, like dance steps painted on an Arthur Murray studio floor, all the while recognizing he was probably moments away from turning into stammering King George and looking creepy in the process. But he was maintaining, holding his composure, until she touched his hand, not once but twice, and while in a semi-paralytic state he still had the thought processes available to him to recall a Men’s Health article about body-language which suggested that if a woman touches you three times… *&?+#*% …his brain scrambled, during an initial meeting, it means she wants to have sex with you.
In that moment, he retreated to instinct, and in what had become his usual modus operandi, he told her he had enjoyed meeting her, and wondered if she’d like to continue the conversation another time. Instead of being forward and asking for her phone number, he proceeded to write his email address on a cocktail napkin and give it to her, [email protected], and she in turn, without hesitation gave him hers, touched him on the hand …and then politely excused herself as the posse of girlfriends had now approached, taking a defensive posture, and looking rather annoyed.
He stood, as the place began closing around him, not unconfused, trying to make sense of what might have just happened, and the dilemma it could present. His thoughts were riled up, and his mind congested like a coliseum lobby full of rowdy teenagers waiting for the doors to open to a rave or concert, unable to distinguish one idea from the next. All the while, The Cowboy Junkies “A Common Disaster” was playing in the background like a siren foretelling of things to come.
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CHAPTER 2
FIRE ALARM
There are a number of things synonymous with the South and North Carolina, things other regions of the country associate with it, beyond its ugly past. Among a few of the more common are tobacco, the unmistakable accent, NASCAR, College Basketball, and Southern Baptists. It is after all part and parcel of the Bible belt, and she had been born the daughter of a well-known and much respected local Baptist Preacher, Raymond Waters. Rae Anne Waters, the “preacher’s daughter,” …it has a mythical, almost urban legend distinction all its own.
As might be expected she had grown up sheltered, in an older established neighborhood in Raleigh, the house itself was the church parsonage, but she would call it home until she left for college just across town. It was an upbringing that would give her a strong foundation, and while she would lose her religion, or at least call it into question as she grew into adulthood, she would never lose her sense of family, of responsibility, and the strength it gave her. As a young child the neighborhood children couldn’t pronounce Rae Anne but the resulting effort produced a nickname that would follow her, Raen, (pronounced rain) which as an adult, like most such nicknames, was reserved for her closest and oldest friends …like the girls at the bar.
As an only child she was immensely loved, cherished, and adored. She had been a good student, loving respectful child, a “good girl,” yet not at all entirely by her nature it seemed, but by effort. She had not disappointed her parents growing up, though being the daughter of such a man had its expectations and inhibitions that were contrary to her inclinations. As she matured, it would give her father reason for concern. The boys, like mosquitoes at dusk after a late afternoon summer thunderstorm, came around, all seeking some relief from their adolescent heat wave in the form of Raen Waters. None of which were ever satisfied, but the taunts and teases were abundant… though they were all sure to be careful of the old man. We have all known girls who developed early and yet did not evolve into the women we envisioned or expected, hoped or dreamed, peaking early as they say, but like an Encore Azalea, Rae Anne would bloom twice, …in the spring, and again in the early autumn of her life.
If there is some sort of hierarchy to describes a woman’s desirability, then sexy supercedes beauty, and sultry trumps them both, not necessarily a balance of the two or even a truly high degree of either is required, it is a sexual confidence manifesting itself in an attitude. An intangible, it is difficult to define since the ingredients and recipe are unique to each woman in possession of the quality. Hers suggested a hint of controlled recklessness, voluntary prohibition, words that make no sense together, but considering her childhood, like the schoolmarm analogy, the preacher’s daughter, …they did in regard to describing her, or as he would come to know her, and he would know her more honestly, and what she would be capable of than anyone else in her life, more than she would ever admit.
She was the kind of woman likely to say what was on her mind, not reflexively but thoughtfully so, yet it was often what she didn’t say that was truly important. Like a seasoned politician she could be honest yet not entirely truthful, with an uncanny ability to edit herself even in emotional exchanges so as not to cause some impediment to achieving whatever her goal and purpose happened to be. She spoke with a careful southern twang, careful, because she never seemed uncertain of what was coming out of her mouth, and he would never hear her apologize for anything she had said, only the way it had been interpreted.
Sultry, in all its glory, did not only allow for imperfections, it didn’t seem to exist without them. Sometimes it was an overbite, a raspy voice, a scar with some tragic story attached, one of hers was a tooth, just slightly crooked, to your left as you faced her, that ruined the symmetry of her smile but gave it character and not as a distraction. She had grown to smile a little crooked as a child in a self-conscious attempt to hide it, but as an adult it presented itself as a hint of delightful wicked
ness, and it gave the impression that she knew a secret and wasn’t telling.
Ambitious, for a time she had worked in the weather department at a local TV station, an intelligent young woman, she had always been interested in science and meteorology, and had graduated from college with an undergraduate degree in Atmospheric Sciences, she hoped one day to work for the National Weather Service, EPA or FEMA perhaps, and all were realistic goals, and as luck would have it, she was given the opportunity to fill in on the 11 o’clock spot one evening when the weatherman failed to show. She nailed it, and eventually had the weekend morning slot. With an exploited childhood nickname like Raen Waters …how could she miss? Not a cloud in her sky …the future looked bright.
Frank Mangum was a fixture in the local community, “hell,” he was a fixture in the region. For the past 14 years he had been the station’s 6:00 and 11:00 sports desk anchor. He had played college basketball somewhere in the Big 10, Pac 10 or something like that, gotten into broadcasting, and wound up on Tobacco Road right in the thick of college hoops. He was well liked and more importantly respected by the area coaches, and thus entrenched in the local sports scene, yet in an unbiased way that someone from the area might be expected. It gave him credibility, and his audience and peers accordingly afforded him due respect. He was a good-looking guy, and it seemed like he never aged. Those of us who watch the news almost forget these people have families and real lives, and behind the scenes he and Rae Anne would become romantically involved, the knowledge of which only became apparent to their co-workers when an unexpected pregnancy arose.
He was married, and a quiet and very localized scandal ensued all while the rest of us were checking in to catch the scores, highlights, and tomorrow’s forecast, oblivious to it all. Fair or not, by virtue of his visibility and tenure he was of greater value to the affiliate, and presumably had some leverage of an assumable nature that required those who make such decisions to overlook his indiscretion, though truth be told, they were probably envious and high-fiving each other at the revelation when having drinks after work. But she on the other hand would be unable to hide her “involvement,” and right or wrong, while not fired, she was soon “off-the-air” so to speak.
In his defense, Frank had fallen in love with her and divorced his wife without as much drama as one might think, a childless union, the dissolution was fairly businesslike… Rae would later confess she thought there must’ve been something going on at the wife’s end as well, a handsome landscaper trimming the bush perhaps, and they married as soon as the divorce was final, but after the baby came, a son, Franklin, called Frankie, followed by another child soon after, whom they named Raymond James, after both their fathers… (Not the NFL stadium as people first thought), and they called him RJ for short. They lived a happy life, though he was sixteen years her senior he didn’t look it, and they made quite the couple. But marriages, as anyone who’s ever been married can attest to, are difficult to maintain, and Frank, being a local celebrity had his share of news groupies, which came with its distractions, temptations, opportunities …and eventual problems and excuses.
Past behavior being the best indication of future behavior, a suspicious Rae would find him one afternoon all bowed up at the Velvet Crown Inn with a local hockey team cheerleader, whereby she precipitously melted down, or blew up depending on your perspective. Their marriage of three and a half years came to a close. The relationship that had been born in infidelity, ended with infidelity as well, and as ironic as it would prove, she had a strong aversion to unfaithfulness and being cheated on. The incident scarred her it seemed, and even to this day she still had not gotten over it on some level. It had not been a blow to her confidence, that remained intact as she attributed the waywardness to his apparent stupidity, but it had damaged her ability to trust her instincts and intuition for a time. She had the appearance of strength in the aftermath, but it was really a fear of being vulnerable and a fierce determination not to be again. Reconciliation not being an option for her, they would eventually come to an agreeable parting for the benefit of the boys as divorced parents are often forced to do, and while it was not easy, they worked hard to maintain a good relationship in that regard, and the children grew up happy as a result.
Local TV personalities make more money than we sometimes think, especially in a top 30 market like Raleigh-Durham, and Frank acted responsibly in that regard, and child support and alimony were provided. Finances consequently were not the real issue for her in the wake of divorce, instead for the immediate future she would need the stability of a man emotionally supportive, and trustworthy …she found that in Glen Johnston.
Divorce, and the drama it had brought left her looking for answers, not uncommon, and in a characteristic effort to satisfy and understand some of the questions it had left her with, she went back to school part-time, not in pursuit of a degree, but as a matter of introspection and self-awareness. She didn’t trust it to someone else like a therapist to tell her the “why” or “what” of it all, she needed to discern those details for herself, and correct them.
More than a mere comely young divorcee, she was the quintessential M.I.L.F., and commanded all kinds of attention. Never acting out of desperation or loneliness, she was commendably true to herself and her responsibilities to the boys, she chose her partners, few though they were, cautiously. Like everyone she had her “types” that she gravitated towards, a predisposition it would seem for authority figures, older men, and bad-boy alpha males, the only common denominator being that they had to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation. She would eventually come to find something of what she sought, short-term perhaps, in Glen, her Developmental Psych professor. They would have a brief courtship before a Dillon South Carolina marriage and Myrtle Beach weekend honeymoon, and not long afterwards a daughter together, Natalie. However, for a psychology professor he wasn’t particularly insightful or intuitive. Perhaps because he dealt so much in theories and large schemes, that he missed the nuances of his own relationship, the warning signs, or billboards as they came to be, or perhaps, he would come to know after the fact he was simply out of his league with the woman. Intimidated by her on a number of important levels, and that seed of self-doubt, once planted in a man, cannot be unsown, and if unable to weed it out can render him incapable of satisfying those all important needs. And before long this marriage went the way of many others, becoming routine, emotionally vacant and impotent, and leaving some things to be desired by our gal Rae Anne, much as she may have in fact designed it. Enter our man Jake stage right…
He was different, and he knew it, how could anyone have come out of the confusion that was his childhood and not have been. He understood others’ efforts and inability to categorize him, but he cared very little about it and made no apology for it. “He was who he was,” and he didn’t ask for, nor need understanding, only acceptance. While the sixties and early seventies are often remembered as a simpler time, before the dime-store became the dollar-store, when TV was black and white, carpet was shag, Playboy was risqué, and pornographic miniature playing cards were the most coveted currency of elementary school playgrounds, they quickly became a confusing time, a period of transition, struggling to make some sense of the explosion of culture, drugs, sex and the war in Vietnam. The era exposed the same complexities of life that had always existed, only less publicly, and brought them and the imperfections of the illusion of family life out into the open, try to think of it if you can as a black and white Kodak moment meets YouTube.
Named after his father’s brother Jacob, and Garris after an Army buddy who had died in WWII, he had grown up in a middle class home in Guilford County, North Carolina, the son of two loving parents who did the best they could in terms of raising him. But he had come late in their lives, at a time when they thought having a child impossible, and both in their forties …at a time when they didn’t have the energy for one and as is sometimes the case, for better or worse, the older boys in the neighborhood would have
a greater influence on his upbringing. He was an innately happy child, confidence was in his genetic make-up, his personal composition, but life seemed to be continually tripping him up and throwing obstacles in front of him and much as the acorn has the promise of the strength of an oak, it would be years in developing.
His parents had their shortcomings like everyone. His father was a brilliant, gentle man, one of the strongest men he would ever know, mentally and physically, but he had one great weakness and that was his wife Ann, and she would exaggerate other weaknesses in him. Ann wore the pants in the family. Jake could never decide whether it was simply apathy that she hid behind a professed wall of fear and overprotection or just perhaps that at her age she was not willing to be bothered and burdened with the commitments that come with allowing a child to participate in certain activities, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t allowed to do much, to pursue natural inclinations. Needs and wants can be squelched, but are difficult to eradicate and just as the roots of a stout tree will push up the sidewalk, like the weed that appears in the cracks, he would begin to assert himself as a teenager.
When the people who are supposed to provide you the things necessary and particular to your individual development don’t, as a matter of survival and necessity one learns to persuade others, individuals who are not obligated to do so by ties of blood or family to do them for you instead, and he became very adept at the skill and grew from a very endearing boy to a genuinely endearing man. It was a quality that would prove to be a great asset. While it’s important to instill confidence in a child, like anything that is given, it can also be taken away, but the confidence that comes from within, from surviving, with overcoming obstacles, born not only of success but of trying and failure, is much more enduring, and that is the confidence which would come to him, even if only realized much later in his life as a man.