I invited Rebecca to hang out with my friends and me at a local bar last night. It was karaoke night, which is always a good time. Most of the night went really well. She got along famously with all of my friends. I’ve never seen anyone so at ease with a complete group of strangers.
There was one interesting thing to note for the beginning of the night. First I should explain my friend Jack is an idiot sober, and twice that drunk. Anyways, when we first arrived we were watching the DJ get set up, and Jack said something like “You do have great breasts,” to Rebecca. (I had mentioned her comment about me staring at her hands instead of her breasts.)
“Damn straight I have nice breasts,” she replied without pause. The entire table erupted with laughter.
I leaned into her ear and whispered, “You should prepare yourself for when he gets drunk. That is only the beginning of the wonder that is Jack.” She had an evil grin on her face as if she relished the challenge.
The rest of the night was really fun. We all got up and sang at least one song. We even sang Bohemian Rhapsody as a team. Rebecca had a very beautiful voice. The rest of us were awful as usual, but the more we drank, the less it mattered.
Finally the last call came. Jack was the last person to sing. Fortunately the bar was nearly empty. Only Rebecca and I remained of our group (other than Jack). He sang something from Hannah Montana and somehow made it sound worse. By this time, he was so drunk; I was surprised he could stand, much less sing.
When we left Rebecca insisted on walking home instead of taking my car. I tried to tell her I didn’t drink that much, but she would have none of it. As soon as we walked out the door Jack had to run around the corner to puke. Rebecca and I waited near the door for him.
“Your doing it again,” she said after two woman walked by us heading for their car.
“What?” I said surprised. I hadn’t the faintest idea what she was talking about.
“You were staring at their hands as they walked by,” talking about the 2 women that just walked by. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to push for an answer this time,” she said. “The suspense is killing me.” She gave me a sympathetic smile to encourage me.
I didn’t want to talk about it, but at the same time I also wanted her to know. I think God made a mistake when he refused to give us telepathy. I took a breath and summoned the courage to speak.
“I told you my father died in a boating accident when I was 5. Well, I was on that boat with my mother at the time. We were going under a bridge down the Snake River when a speedboat passed to close and forced us into a pillar. It caused the boat to turn over. The back currents near the pillar kept me under the water. I couldn’t swim very well at the time,” I explained. Rebecca cut me off.
“I don’t understand what this has to do with hands. Oh…the water was dirty. When your mother reached for you, you could only see her hand,” she said, and was silent again.
I decided that was explanation enough, but wanted to add something, “The sun penetrated the water just enough to cause her engagement ring to sparkle. It was the most beautiful site I have seen in my life.” I shook my head to banish the memory from my mind.
“Anyways, after that my mother always kept me at her side. She was always holding my hand. The only clear memory I have of her was her hands with her ring on her finger.”
“She loved you very much,” Rebecca said.
Jack appeared again before I had a chance to respond. Thankful for small miracles, I simply said, “Lets go.”
The trip home was pretty silent, other then Jack chatting away the entire time (when he wasn’t vomiting), but both Rebecca and I ignored him completely. Jack lived in the same apartment complex as Rebecca, so we went there first. Once we tucked in Jack for the night and made sure he would be ok we headed towards Rebecca’s apartment.
As we were walking out of the door she turned to me with a smile and asked “Is Jack always like this?” I honestly wasn’t paying attention to her. Maybe it was too much alcohol, or the way she was smiling at me, or the way the moon lit up her hair (ok, it was mostly the alcohol), but I really wanted to kiss her. I leaned towards her, but she took a step back.
My heart sank. I couldn’t hide the disappointment and embarrassment on my face. I wanted to crawl under a rock and sleep for a millennia. I raced past her and walked away as fast as I could. I just wanted out of there.
“I told you I couldn’t have that type of relationship with you,” she said, but I wasn’t listening. I was intent on getting out of there as fast as I could. “Please wait!” she called after me. I ignored her, and kept walking.
Suddenly she appeared out of nowhere directly in front of me. I must have been quite drunk. “I’m sorry. It was never my intention for it to come to this, but I can’t get involved with you in that way,” she said.
“Yea, well I can’t not feel the way I feel!” I replied trying to keep from shouting at her.
“You’re right. This is my fault. I should have known it wouldn’t work. I should have left the moment I saw you in that bar,” she said almost to herself.
“Good evening,” a man said appearing out of nowhere. He was an older gentleman. He wore a light brown leather jacket, a plaid shirt, blue jeans, a cowboy hat, and boots. His pants were tucked into his boots. He had a stern, determined face. He was chewing on a toothpick as he spoke. He looked so much like a character out of a John Wayne western; I swore I could see a revolver at his side.
“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I reckon you could use a bit of sav’n, if you know what I mean. That conversation looked painful,” he said to me.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m a friend of your lady friend here. I know it’s late, and I don’t mean to disturb ya. I just got into town, and I said to myself, ‘It would be rude not to stop by and say hi.’ I didn’t realize she would have company though, or I would have waited till tomorrow.”
“What is your name?” I asked. Now that I have one of Rebecca’s mysterious visitors here with me, I wasn’t about to go home empty handed.
“Well, you can refer to me as Mr. 7. Me and your lady friend, we go way back.” He turned to Rebecca and asked, “What is your name again?” This forced a smile out of her as she gave him her name.
I leaned into Rebecca’s ear and asked “Mr. 7?” To which she replied, “It’s just a nickname. It isn’t important.” Her eyes, however, never left his the entire time. That alone was enough to make me nervous.
“Well I can see you’re indisposed at the moment. I’ll have to meet up with ya some other time, but it will have to be real soon. I have messages from back home to deliver to ya,” he said. He tipped is hat to her and walked down the street alone. Rebecca’s eyes didn’t leave him until he was completely out of site.
“Who was he?” I asked once he was gone.
“Nobody important,” she said. For someone so mysterious, she was certainly a really bad liar. “Let me walk you home.”
“You don’t have to do that. You’re already home, and he is gone anyways. I’ll be fine,” I said. I honestly didn’t want to spend any more time with her.
“I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist,” she said. She looked determined to win this fight, so I relented. The trip home was uneventful. Neither of us talked. For that, I was thankful. When we arrived she reminded me to lock my door, and left quickly.
The next day I almost broke the lunch plans we had made previously for Tuesday, but in the end I decided I needed answers. I was going to force her to give them to me one way or another.
No comments:
Post a Comment