Show Me the Bling

by Cyndi Redding

  “It’s boring. I work in the office.”

  “Oh. Well, I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality. And the trolley fare.”

  She stood. “Do you want a T-shirt? I have a couple of large ones.”

  “Sure. Do you have the pink one that says, ‘I want to be Barbie. The bitch has everything?’”

  She giggled, and then her expression turned sad. “I’m going to miss your sense of humor. You’re a lot of fun.”

  With that, she hurried to her bedroom. I was feeling odd. I wasn’t sure what was coming over me. I hadn’t experienced this feeling before. At least, I didn’t think I had. Damn, it was inconvenient not knowing much about myself. I was hoping more than ever I’d run into someone who knew me.

  Mandy returned with a plain black T-shirt. Size large. It was a snug fit and really stretched out over my chest, but she assured me it made me look hot, so I accepted it gratefully. Now, the walk to the door and the kiss goodbye. There was that feeling again. Ugh. I didn’t like it. Whatever it was, it was unpleasant.

  I hoped the discomfort would leave when I did, so I planned to give her a quick peck on the cheek and be on my way. I held her chin between my index finger and thumb for a moment and looked into her eyes. That did it. Her eyes were shimmering, turquoise blue, like the gulf beyond the muddy Mississippi. This woman was different. A breath of fresh air.

  She did her best to put on a weak smile. Crap. She was feeling the same thing. I had to get out of there.

  “See ya. Thanks for everything” I said. I stuck out my hand and she put hers in mine accepting an awkward handshake instead of a kiss. Again, she gave me a sad smile but didn’t protest.

  Dear Zeus, that was it! The feeling was sadness. I hated that feeling! Somehow, I knew that it had to be avoided it at all costs. Now, I understood why. It hurt. Almost physically, right in my chest. I opened the door and charged down the stairs two at a time.

  Chapter Three

  The trolley let me off on Canal Street. I was hoping to run into someone I knew in the French Quarter. At this hour of the morning, Bourbon Street would be fairly quiet. I’d wait to visit the balcony I plummeted from later. There were still tourists milling about, and the cafes were full. I decided to follow a young, hip couple. I hoped they’d lead me to the fun-loving “in crowd” I had seen via my limited memory.

  Maybe I’d find some of the same people I partied with Tuesday night. They couldn’t all still be sleeping it off, right?

  I followed them to the French Market. They must have been tourists. They led me past the fruit and vegetable stands, past the racks and racks of hot sauces, and into the flea market section filled with cheap souvenirs. As they were trying on masks, I buried my disappointment and wondered where the natives might be shopping.

  Ah. The mall. Now where was the nearest mall? Feeling like an idiot, I doubled back to the produce sellers and asked. They were nice enough, but seemed bored. Probably tired of giving directions to the tourist attractions all day.

  Hopefully the Riverside Mall would produce a better cross section of the population. When I arrived there, I realized that I had just found more tourists. Still, I walked from one end to the other. The retail shops had local people working in them, but none who looked like the partiers I had hung out with that night.

  Fine. That hope was busted too. I was getting hungry again but the mall food didn’t appeal to me. I pulled the money out of my pocket remembering Mandy and how I felt when she put it there. My cock stirred at the simple thought of her touch and her generosity.

  I’d have to stuff that and everything else about her into the back of my mind if I was going to concentrate on my mission. Project, ‘Who am I’ wasn’t going very well.

  How much money did I have? Not a lot. Three dollars and fifty cents. The trolley had cost a dollar and seventy-five cents. That left us with less than two bucks for lunch if I wanted to save enough to get back to Mandy’s place for the night.

  Damn. What a decision. Eat? Sleep in comfort later? Become a purse-snatcher? I thought the last one through, and although they would give me food and a place to sleep if I got caught, prison sex wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want to settle for ugly men in showers when there were so many pretty women in bars. Too bad, Bruno.

  I bought a pretzel. It’s amazing how long a person can make a pretzel last if they’re not sure when their next meal might be. I found myself thinking about starving children in other parts of the world. As soon as I had the ability to do so, I’d write a check to alleviate world hunger. Unfortunately, at the moment, I didn’t know what name to sign at the bottom.

  Uh, oh. Sadness alert! Had to distract myself, somehow. I walked outdoors where tables and chairs were placed for that fake, sidewalk cafe atmosphere. It didn’t hold much appeal. Not for me. Something told me I was used to the real thing. Terraces made of brick, wrought iron furniture, fountains, trees, flowers and songbirds. What I was looking at as I stood on the asphalt was the muddy Mississippi and swirls of seagulls eyeing my pretzel.

  I pushed my way back inside and bumped into a man who was coming out. He stopped, looked at my face, and his expression turned from annoyance to surprise. “Hey, don’t I know you?” he said.

  “Yeah, yeah...” I was faking it, hoping he’d come up with the connection if I let him. “You look familiar to me too. How long has it been?”

  “Must be thirty years,” he said. “You haven’t changed at all.”

  Thirty years? Who was he kidding? I’d seen myself in a mirror. I looked no more than thirty years old, now. Did he remember me from my baby carriage?

  He frowned. “No. It couldn’t be. You look just like someone I knew in college, though. My mistake.” Then he smiled and looked like he was drifting off into another, happier time. “He was quite the party animal. I wonder what ever happened to good ol’ Dennis?” He shook his head as if clearing the picture from his etch-a-sketch brain. “Sorry.”

  “That’s okay, man,” I said, although I was hugely disappointed.

  College. That was a thought. Maybe I went to school here? I stopped by a store that was selling local maps and studied one carefully hoping the name of some school would ring a bell. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

  * * *

  I wasted the afternoon walking around a college campus, a music school, and two bookstores. Apparently, I wasn’t much for higher learning. The kids on campus looked like—well, kids. I was easily older than most by several years.

  Even Mandy was older than college undergrads. I wondered how old she was. I had never asked. I wondered if she had gone to college. And I wondered if I should spend my last buck seventy-five on food or trolley fare.

  So far, no one had acted like they recognized me, except for the one gentleman who told me I looked like some kid from thirty years ago named, Dennis.

  My legs were in good shape, but I had walked all over the friggin’ city trying to hang onto that trolley fare. I had to wonder why.

  My frustrated efforts were beginning to wear on me. I was a social guy! Where were all my friends? So far, I had made one friend and one enemy, and I had screwed them both and moved on. I had to go back to the old city at night despite a bit of apprehension. I was sure that’s where I’d find the friends I must have.

  What if I didn’t have any friends there? None at all? Was that why I was holding onto the little money I had and listening to my stomach growl in hunger? I had a sinking feeling there was more to it.

  Something about the way my mind kept returning to Mandy bothered me. I was having another feeling I couldn’t identify. I kept thinking of her eyes. Her brave refusal to give in to fruitless complaining. Her gifts of kindness, money, even her body—to me—Mr. whoever-you-are. Talk about unconditional!

  Okay, it was decision time. Another pretzel or back to Mandy’s for a light snack and lots of fucking for dessert? I decided to eat, then that rotten sadness came over me again. I was passing a small side street that smelled so good, I had to wander down.
r />   * * *

  What luck! I burped and rubbed my contented abdomen after having discovered a dumpster behind a restaurant and cooking school! The students must be getting good grades. I had some delicious red beans and rice. There were even leftovers that someone must have forgotten to take with them. They were nicely packaged in a Styrofoam container.

  Yes, this was the feeling I liked most of all. Belly content. Money in pocket. A woman waiting for bedding. Ah, life was good again.

  Then I rounded the corner and ran right into Brandy.

  She was walking with a guy who looked a bit like her, including big, man boobs. He towered over me and outweighed me by fifty pounds, easily.

  She pointed at me. “That’s him!”

  I tried to take a nonchalant approach. “Hey, Brandy. Nice to see you again. I’d love to stay and talk, but...”

  Big bruiser interrupted me. “My little sister tells me you took advantage of her and her friend. You’re gonna pay for that, mister.”

  “Pay? Wouldn’t that make her a...”

  BAM!

  When I came to, Brandy and her “goon” were gone. So was my money. Crap. Sadness crept in, wedging itself between the throbs of physical pain in my stomach and left eye. I was pretty sure that would leave a mark.

  Knowledge of my identity had not returned. I was hoping that whatever had been shaken loose might have been knocked back into place. But that hadn’t happened.

  Once I regained my orientation, I noticed that dusk was fast approaching. I realized that the disfigurement I had received from Brandy’s brother might interfere with my swift identification, but I had to try.

  I rose slowly to my feet and staggered, at first. Someone was coming the other way. I braced myself against the brick building and waited for him to pass. Instead, he slowed down as he came closer. A smile formed on his pudgy face and he put out his hand.

  “Hey there, I know you.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “You know me?”

  “Well, I’ve seen you. You were at the AA meeting. There’s another one tonight. Let me take you there.”

  “No. Thanks, man. Really. It’s just that I have other plans.”

  “What could be more important than your sobriety?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe finding out who I am? Where I live? If I have a job, a family?”

  “Still can’t remember?”

  “No, I can’t. But, I’m doing fine. Thanks for the offer.”

  I started to walk away in long, quick strides, but he caught up and walked beside me.

  “I hate to say it, but you don’t look fine. In fact, you don’t look good at all. Let me help.”

  I kept going. “I know I look like a mess, but I haven’t had a drop of liquor since that meeting, honest.”

  “Look. You’ve been beaten up, you have garbage stains all over your T-shirt, you’re homeless, and if you haven’t started drinking again yet, that’s great, but you probably will.”

  “You forgot the part about I have no money. Would you have a couple of bucks you could spare?”

  The stranger put a hand on my arm, thus, stopping my march. He looked at me with sad eyes and said, “I can’t do that. You’ll spend it on booze. You can come home with me, though. I’m sure my wife would love to give you a hot, home-cooked meal, and I might find you some clean clothes. Then you can sleep on my couch for the night. We can go to AA tomorrow morning. How does that sound?”

  I was tempted to ask if his wife was hot, but somehow I just knew he wouldn’t appreciate it.

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs. Oh, but I was a slave to my stomach. Mrs. L., I believe her name was Marie, got up and prepared a big breakfast for Mr. L and me. His name was Roland L. An odd last name, I thought.

  Meanwhile he thought it would be a good idea for me to take a name. Any name. I picked the only name that came to mind.

  “Eat up, Dennis. The meeting serves donuts, but you’ll need some of Marie’s good nutrition if you’re going to resist the urge to drink.”

  Mmm... “Thanks, I’m starving. I won’t have any problem resisting alcohol, though. I have a strong constitution.”

  “We all do, son. Still, you can afford a few pounds.” He patted his rounded belly and laughed. “You’ve got a long way to go before you look like me.”

  Thank Zeus for that.

  He gifted me with a black leather jacket that he had been keeping for posterity. Saying he’d never be able to zip it again, he thought I might as well get some use out of it.

  As soon as I had eaten and attended another meeting to make this nice guy feel good, I’d be on my way. I wondered why I decided it was important to do this for him, but I didn’t have an answer. It just felt like the right thing to do.

  Roland lived within walking distance of the meeting, and he thought it would be good for our health to get a little exercise. I just hoped I didn’t take up jogging and eating trail mix. I did feel a whole lot better, though. A shower, clean clothes, a warm jacket and a good breakfast had done wonders for my mood until I thought of Mandy.

  She had probably hoped to see me on her doorstep when she got home last evening. I could picture the disappointment on her pretty face. Tears may have even rolled down those lightly freckled cheeks of hers. I fantasized about wiping a tear from her peach-soft skin and kissing her cheek. Then letting my tongue slide down her neck and...

  Someone came up behind me and spoke in a loud male voice, thereby interrupting my magnificent daydream.

  “Hey mister. Be careful of the guy you’re with, especially if you have any daughters!”

  Damn. It was Brandy’s brother again.

  “Leave me alone!” I yelled. Suddenly as if on my command, he turned and fled. That seemed like odd behavior for him.

  Roland looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Want to talk about it?”

  “NO!”

  “Suit yourself.” Roland stuck his hands in his pockets and kept strolling.

  For some reason, I felt rotten yelling at him like that. I could yell at Brandy and her goon of a brother until monkeys flew out of my butt, but Roland was another matter.

  “I’m sorry, Roland. I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. They deserved it, but you’re my—my...”

  “Sponsor,” he interjected.

  “Oh.” He looked over and gave me a knowing smile.

  Yeah, I guess he had sponsored me last night. His wife stuffed me full of crawfish etoufette. Roland washed my jeans and T-shirt and found a coat that used to be his, but now it’s mine. How cool was that?

  We arrived at the meeting and Roland began introducing me to people. Since we were early, I was chowing down on donuts and coffee and kind of enjoying my new—er friends. I had all but forgotten that I might meet an old acquaintance when I felt a hard slap on my back.

  “Big D! I don’t believe it! What the heck are you doin’ here?”

  I whirled around and saw a big, bald guy. My age, probably. He was built like a bouncer.

  “You know me?”

  The big guy laughed. Then he scrutinized my face and must have realized I was serious. “You’re kiddin’ right?”

  “No, I’m not. I’ve been having some—uh—problems with my memory lately. If you know me, please tell me what you know.”

  He narrowed his eyes and hissed through his teeth. “You’re the reason I’m here, asshole.”

  Roland put a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “George, let’s keep it constructive. You’re both here for the same thing. Recovery.”

  Bouncer boy took a deep breath and hung his head for a moment. Then he looked me in the eye and said, “Look, I’m sorry if I offended you, but do you really want to know the truth about yourself? I’d better warn you, you might not like what you hear.”

  This caught me off guard. I finally found someone who knew me, and instead of telling me what a great guy I was, he called me an asshole!

  I looked to Roland, and he put
his other hand on my shoulder creating a bridge between us. “We’ve all done things in the past that we’re not proud of. I know how ashamed I was when I finally remembered everything I’d done. Marie had already thrown me out of the big bed, and I was about to lose my place on the couch too. I put that poor girl through hell.”

  Mandy popped into my mind.

  “It’s possible that our friend here is blocking things he’s not ready to handle yet, George. Why don’t you tell him basics, like his name and where he lives if you know? Things like that.”

  George shrugged. “We called him ‘Big D’. I don’t know where he came from or where he went at the end of the day, or the beginning of the next day, more accurately.”

  “So, you don’t know me well. Maybe I’m a nice guy and you caught me on a bad day.”

  “Bad day? Honest to God, I’ve never seen anyone able to drink so much, eat so much, or screw so many women during the same night in my life.”

  “Big D, huh? Is that all you can tell me about my name?”

  “That’s it. The women nicknamed you. I’m pretty sure it was because...”

  I coughed. “That’s okay. I think I can guess.” Ambivalence was coursing through me and forcing me into a swirl of emotions.

  “Is there anyone who knows me and likes me? Maybe even cares about me?”

  He shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  Another flashback popped into my brain, and I saw more depraved activity. There was a naked man and woman in chains and anyone wanting a turn at them taking one. They didn’t look like they were enjoying being fucked constantly. Some people did both of them.

  “You used to get a kick out of setting up competitions to see who could consume the largest amount of wine. You gave the winner any woman he wanted and watched to see if he could fuck her before passing out.” I heard George, and somehow I knew he was telling me the truth.

  Another memory emerged. I was cheering on those with big appetites for pleasure and enjoyed watching them make fools of themselves afterward. I think I was the biggest fool of all.

  “Uh, Roland, if you don’t mind, buddy, I’m not feeling too good. I really need to go.”