Blogger's Note: In light of the recent "Flashback" posts that I've been producing, I have a quick memory I'd like to share with you. When I was young, I would hang out at Brandon's house often. His father was a farmer (as Brandon is now), and the neighborhood kids would often find all sorts of fun things to get into at his house. We would build mazes out of hay bales; play flashlight tag in the rows of corn; or, we might play "haunted house".
The large barn where Brandon's father stored his combine when it wasn't in use had this smooth, concrete floor. Inside this barn, a large push-cart that was used to transport heavy items could be found. We would use it to play "haunted house". Let me explain.
Someone would sit on the cart while someone else pushed it along an invisible "track" through work benches and tools and various farm equipment. If you weren't doing the pushing or being pushed, your job was to hide somewhere in the barn and jump out to scare the "victim" as the cart passed by. As children, each of us had our favorite roles. Some of us liked to hide and be "monsters"; others preferred being the "victim". Me? I always preferred pushing the cart.
I had an imaginary track that I would follow. The responsive front wheels turned easily; so, I imagined that I could mimic the mechanical feel of the haunted house at Noble Park. I was in control of someone's imaginary experience, and I took the job seriously. By knowing where the "monsters" were hiding, by maintaining an automated speed, and by turning the cart at precise and unexpected turns, I could simulate an amusement park experience. I loved doing that.
I consider writing this story as my first, real writing experience. Having readers that I can "push" through my "haunted house" has been like a drug for me. I love how this feels. I want to place "monsters" at the best possible spots; I want to create a sense of adventure, a portrait of romance, a sketch of comedy, and a monster timed so well that you'll pee yourself. (I doubt I'll manage that, but if I can at least tickle you with a "start" then that'll suffice.) So, BOOOO! And thank you for riding on my "cart."
The very first thought I had when I began brainstorming this story was of a scene in this installment. In fact, when I started writing our story, I had planned on ending it with this chapter. However, each step of this journey seems to unveil a marker further in the distance, and I'm just not ready to stop yet.
So, when does this ride end? Worry not. The end is in sight. I'm a little bit OCD, so I like things ordered and sized. This story is in four phases of four chapters, thus totaling sixteen chapters. The first phase was "How We Met"; this phase is "How We Fell in Love". After you read this chapter, you will have completed the second phase and the first half of this adventure.
Writing "Spring" was tough for me. For one thing, writing about Spring while I'm looking out a window that reveals a cold, November landscape doesn't exactly lend itself to inspiration. Not to mention, I wanted to paint this beautifully, lovely landscape before I pushed you into the area of "monsters." I'm just hoping I didn't bore the shit out of you.
And, now, this one's for the self-indulgent part of me. Writing in the first person has its pro's and con's. I can narrate the world from my point of view which isn't too much of a stretch as I have a bit of insight on how I view the world. A con is when I put myself in a scene of conflict. I have to be revealing if I'm to construct some believable narrative that showcases my fears, my madness, my vanity, or, even, my arrogance. I don't want to be self-indulgent; I don't want people to see me that way. But I suppose I am somewhat. I suppose we all are to some degree.
So, with just a few artistic changes for deliberated reasons, I shall proceed as honest and revealing as I can be. I'll place my demons around the barn and ask that you climb aboard my cart. Do you hear the faint squeak of the tittering cart wheel vibrating across concrete? It's getting faster. The barn is quiet, but you know that won't last. A monster is going to jump out at any second. And this monster's name is Enrique...
My phone rang as we drifted off the interstate and onto the exit ramp. I fished it out of my coat pocket, glanced at it, and handed it to Joanna. "Can you answer it? It's Stacey," I requested of Joanna as I handed her the phone.
She took it from me and pushed the green button. "What up, bitch?"
I braked the Oldsmobile to a creaking halt at the stoplight and patiently listened to one-half of the conversation between Stacey and my Polish passenger.
"We almost there now. Chris is already there."
The light turned green, so I meekly turned onto the road.
"He said they will be by the pool tables, so I guess there."
The low-gas light indicator lit up just as we passed the gas station. I should have fueled up before I picked up Joanna. I considered turning around and doing it now, but decided it would be easier to just grab some later, when we left Ernie's.
"Ok, we'll have a beer waiting for you." Joanna handed the phone back to me, and I shoved it back into my pocket.
I parked the car in front of our favorite bar, and we walked across the parking lot to the entrance. I held the door for Joanna and followed her inside. We recognized most of the people there from the casino. Josh was on stage doing a rather commendable version of Stevie Wonder's "Superstitious". Randy and Jason had their backs to us, but I could discern the subject of video games from the brief sound bite I got as we passed them. I found an open slot at the bar and patiently waited until Jennifer, the bartender, could get to me.
Joanna and I got our beers and made our way to the back room where our friends were supposed to already be.
Sure enough, we rounded the corner and saw several recognizable faces. Kristin was laughing at Chris and some girl I didn't know as they were "sword-fighting" with a couple of pool sticks. Crystal pumped a celebratory fist in the air as a beep from the dart board announced that she had hit her mark. The girl that was "sword-fighting" with Chris put down her pool stick and ran over to Crystal. "Chest bump!" she insisted as she ran in front of the dart "champion."
Crystal and Kristin started laughing.
"Duane, have you met my sister?" Kristin asked me as she motioned to the girl that was chasing Crystal and insisting on a "chest bump".
"I don't think so," I cautiously replied.
"Well, this is Amanda," she introduced the swashbuckling girl. I extended my hand for a handshake. "Chest bump?" she suggested. Joanna and I joined in the chorus of laughter that erupted. "Where's Stacey?" Kristin asked as she took a sip from the drink in her hand.
"She's on the way," Joanna answered.
"You suck." At the pool table beside us, Amber was commenting on Rhonda's scratched eight ball.
"Did you win?" Amanda asked Amber hopefully.
"Heck yeah!" Amber played arrogance.
"Chest bump," Amanda suggested. To my surprise, the two met in a sumo-style "chest bump" that jolted the rest of us into an eruption of teary-eyed laughter.
I glanced at Joanna to see how she was faring. She appeared to be just another member of the group, red-faced and giddy.
"Shots anyone?" Chris rounded the corner carrying a round of shots on a tray.
"Oh, damn..." Crystal commented as Chris handed her one of the shot glasses. "What is it?"
"So-Co." Chris answered as he continued passing the round of glasses around.
"I don't think I've ever had that. What's So-Co?" Joanna asked as Chris handed her a shot.
"Southern Comfort," he explained with a coy expression.
"Oh, damn..." Crystal reiterated.
"I like your accent," Amanda put her face right next to Joanna's. Joanna met her stare, and they both just started laughing.
"She's from Poland," Kristin explained to her sister.
Amanda raised her glass, and we all followed suit. "To Poland," she cheered.
"To Poland," we chorused and choked down the whiskey.
I pulled up a chair for Joanna as Kristin was taking her turn at the dart board. A rumble of billiard balls being released from their display coop was followed by an announcement from the karaoke D.J. "Up next we have Thomas. After Thomas will be Charlie. And then after Charlie, Chris is up."
We all cheered when Chris's name was recognized. I took a sip from my beer and smiled. I was surrounded by a cool circle of friends that took turns playing in the spotlight. Chris was talking through his nose as he suggested I bring him "...some ice cream. And put a little bit of strawberries on that." Amber and Amanda were taking turns punching each other in the stomach, and Kristin was trying to distract Crystal from throwing her dart.
I was usually more of a participant; but, tonight I was playing host to a new girl. I felt a need to "hang back" and wade into this group with my new Polish friend. Joanna didn't seem like she needed much integrating, however. She resourcefully laughed and quipped and fought back. Something in the air had me buzzed before the beer and the So-Co even had a chance to go to work. A euphoria resides somewhere between the exciting plot of "Something New" and the comforting familiarity of "Something Old", and I was snugly roosting there.
"Ready for another beer?" I asked Joanna when I noticed that her bottle was empty.
"Sure..." I took her empty beer and tossed it in the trash. "Be right back."
"We'll take care of her," Amber said in a carnivorous tone. Joanna fabricated a worried expression which provoked me to laughter.
"Chris, if Amber does anything to Joanna..." I paused for the dramatic effect, "...please take pictures."
Chris gave me a smile and a thumbs up.
I ordered two beers at the bar, mingled in some local conversation, and decided to make a detour at the restroom on the way back to the table.
I chose the back restroom which was usually less busy, washed up, and headed out with a beer in each hand. Waiting just outside the door, Enrique stood, wearing a stoic countenance.
"Hey," he said.
"Hey." I tried to edge around him, but he didn't move.
"How you doin'?" he continued.
"Doin' all right, man," I tried to answer dismissively. He didn't dismiss me. Intentionally or otherwise, the large man was blocking my route.
"You and Joanna are hanging out a lot. You dating her?" The interrogative remark whistled through the loud room like an arrow. I didn't like it and felt no need to answer it. I wasn't sure how I might have answered it even if I had wanted to, so I shrugged and stepped as if to excuse myself. He moved to block my path. My heart rate increased.
"So you two dating?" His mouth smiled. I didn't care to look at him.
"Excuse me," I said as I stepped to get around him.
This time he made it clear that he intended to block my passage until I answered him. The diplomatic smile that I had been wearing left. I met his gaze.
"Yeah." I stated coldly.
"It's ok," Enrique said. "I already had that."
A beer bottle shattered against the wall beside Enrique's head. He flinched from the liquid that splashed his face. His lips started to move as he began to speak.
A second beer bottle shattered against the same spot. The loud music masked the sound, but I didn't care about that. I stood there, empty-handed and shaking uncontrollably. My fists were balled, and my eyes were wide. Enrique stood there, at least a head taller than me.
"Fuck. You." I heard myself say.
Enrique raised his hand. I pulled back. I didn't feel like a bad ass. I didn't feel brave. Frankly, I just felt... fueled. I wasn't weighing the odds of the outcome; I didn't consider the obvious size difference. I was just shaking... I really don't have a better way to describe it. My head was tilted back so that I could make eye contact, and our eyes were locked. I took a step closer.
And then I saw something that I didn't expect to see.
Fear.
Enrique stared into my eyes, and I don't think he liked what he saw there. He saw a story unfolding there - one that included a little bit of madness, more than a touch of passion, and, at least at that moment, a lot of fight.
He hadn't intended to go this far. I certainly don't think that he was looking for a "fight." But he had found one. Or, more accurately, I had found one.
"Duane, man, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."
"Fuck you."
"Just calm down, man..."
I had a window to walk away, but I didn't want to. Enrique raised his hands, open-palmed, as if to say just chill out. Just calm down.
"I can't fucking stand you, you piece of shit. Stay the fuck away from me. Stay the fuck away from Joanna." I don't know how loud I said that. I might have yelled it. Enrique took a step back, and I took a step forward. What was I doing?
I had my fists clenched so tight that they hurt. He was about to say something else, and I had already heard all I wanted to hear. I moved to close the gap when...
"You need to just go that way." Stacey suddenly appeared between us. She was talking to Enrique.
"I was just trying to apologize. I was trying to tell him..."
"Enrique, just walk. that. way." She pointed in the opposite direction of where I was standing. To her credit, she realized that any kind of rationalization wasn't possible. Certainly not at that moment. Enrique started to protest.
"Enrique... NOW! Go that way!" Stacey insisted as she encouraged him with a push in the "right" direction. I was still shaking, but I just stood there. Admittedly, I was relieved that Stacey was there. Before she was there, I hadn't seen a resolution. Enrique hadn't been smart enough to walk away, and I wasn't willing to.
Finally, Enrique turned and walked in the other direction.
Stacey turned to look at me. I couldn't read her expression, but I could tell that she was on "high alert." We stood looking at each other for a moment. An ant was shouting from a deep valley in my mind that I should tell her thank you, but I couldn't hear it. I looked at her; and maybe she understood that I didn't have the capacity at that moment. I walked past her, to Joanna.
Fortunately, everyone was too busy watching the game of darts that was being played to notice me grab Joanna's hand and pull her out of her seat. "Come on. We're leaving," was all I said.
She looked at me with astonished concern; she understood that something serious was happening. She just didn't know what it was. She grabbed her jacket and walked quickly to keep up. As we passed Stacey, she and Joanna shared an austere look; but, nothing was said.
At the bar, Randy and Enrique were having an animated discussion. They saw us walk out the door. Randy dashed to intercept us. I pushed the door open, and we walked outside.
"Duane!" Randy was shouting as we continued to the car. I yanked the passenger-side door open and waited for Joanna to climb in before shutting it.
"Duane, you need to know something. That's an inside joke between us. We're always saying that."
I didn't know what Randy was talking about. At that moment, I didn't care.
"Seriously, man. When we see a hot girl or something, we say 'I've already had that.' It's a running joke we've got. You should just know that Enrique didn't mean that like you took it."
I closed my door, started the car, and stuck it in reverse. I drove out of the parking lot without looking back. I could feel Joanna looking at me, and I knew that she didn't know what was going on. I knew I should tell her something; I knew I should explain. But I just didn't have anything to say right then.
The "low-gas" light was still on. I should have stopped to get gas earlier. I pulled into the nearest gas station and shoved the transmission in "park". I went to open the door, and it got stuck mid-way. I took a breath. I didn't want to, but I had to.
A pick-up truck revved to life at the pump next to us; its engine quietened as its driver shifted into gear and drove away. I placed my hands on the steering wheel and stared ahead. A gas station parking lot whispers to anyone willing to listen. I could hear it, but I wasn't listening. My heart was still pounding, and I didn't trust my voice. Joanna sat quietly, respecting the silence.
After seconds or minutes or years passed, I turned to her. Her eyes met mine. Her face, illuminated by the glow of green dash lights, seemed soft, concerned, and lost. I hated how much I loved her face right then.
I spoke as much as I could.
"We have to define our relationship," was all I said. I stared deeply at her, and she stared back. She didn't say anything. I don't think either of us said anything else that night. Her lips softened into the hint of a smile. And that's all. That was it. It was all that was needed.
I leaned into her, reared my leg, and kicked the fuck out of my door. It slammed open...
...and never got stuck again.
(...to be continued.)
Continue our "How We Got Engaged" story:
Chapter 9 - Fun at Work
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