Department 29 - Chpt 3

"It's a Harley," she said with surprise. "Yeah, that would have been my guess," I returned. It was true... Harley Davidson was the only bike name I knew... that and Schwinn.

　

Chapter 3

 

        It took me three whole days... morning, noon and night to put my house back in order. Each object resting in place was another step closer to normal life until I had reached the point of disbelief.

        By Friday of the next week I was right as rain, all was good with the world. I had convinced myself nothing had happened. There had been no voices, no professor, no machine in my closet.

        I felt great, certain it had all been in my head. I had been over tired, over worked, I was better now.

       The only thing that resembled any proof at all was the wooden spoon. I had no idea what to do with it. I couldn't leave it in a drawer or throw it away without it calling to me. Other than my pocket, it didn't seem to fit anywhere.

       I tried my best to convince myself it was perfectly normal. I didn't need it, it was just a spoon. I was holding on to it until I found out what it meant and where it came from, that's all. I just needed for it to be safe and then I could let it go. I was sure of it.

       "Hello, anyone home?" a woman's voice called from the front room.

       Someone was in my apartment... again. My heart pounded with sudden panic... I had to hide the spoon.

      "John?"

      I shoved it in the back of my waist band, covering it with my shirt before cautiously making my way to the living room.

      "John?" she called as I peeked warily around the corner.

      "I know you... Suzie? Right? You're the one that found me. What are you doing here?" My sense of being startled shifted to that of being confused. She looked a fright. Her hair stood out in every direction as if she carried a full static charged just by standing up. She wore a white tee shirt with the words 'E=mc squared' printed in blue across the front over a tan pair of slacks.

       "You invited me" she insisted, smoothing her hands quickly over her head.

       "No, I didn't," I protested.

       "Well, you should have," she scolded, placing her hands on her hips.

       "What are you doing here? I take it back, how did you get in and why are you in my apartment?" I pressed.

       "The door was open and to help you of course," she returned.

       "To help me what?"

       "She's dangerous and she's coming," Suzie voiced with concern.

       "Who? Who's coming?" I asked confused.

       Before she could answer there was a knock at the door.

       "Told you, it's her," Suzie whispered harshly in a 'told-you-so' tone, pointing toward the front door.

       "Her who?"

       I opened the door a crack after a second knock, peering outside.

       "Hello? Mr. Buckles? It's me, Laurel, from the other day... the ambulance... remember?" she asked softly.

       "Hi," I said opening the door all the way.

       "Hi. I brought pizza," she said pushing lightly against the door.

       She was dressed in a tight pair of faded jeans, a floral tank top and a black leather jacket. Threaded through the loops of the coat a matching belt swung loosely as she entered the room.

       "Oh, I'm sorry, you have company," Laurel apologized.

       "It's alright, she was just leaving," I said, grabbing Suzie's arm to guide her to the front door.

       "No I wasn't," she countered, throwing herself on the couch, freeing herself of my grip. "John you know I like pizza, just as much as you."

       "How would I have any idea? I just met you," I exclaimed.

       A confused Laurel glanced at me briefly before swinging her head toward Suzie.

       "You know how it is... boyfriends, girlfriends, silly fights... you get it," Suzie pronounced with an indifferent wave of her hand.

       "What?" I asked stunned with her accusation.

       "Look, perhaps I've come at a bad time," Laurel started.

       "No, no you came at the right time, she's not my girlfriend."

       "He always says that when we fight. You know how men are," Suzie said nonchalantly, opening the pizza box to retrieve a piece.

       "I just wanted a few minutes to talk about the other day," Laurel said, lowering her head a little before stuffing her hands into her jacket pockets.

       "Sure, why not? I got time," Suzie replied, kicking her shoes off before putting her feet on the coffee table.

       "I'm sorry, I wasn't clear. I meant Johnny," Laurel countered sitting in a chair across from Suzie.

       "Oh yeah, I know what you meant but lover boy and I have no secrets, so ask away," Suzie slurred threw a mouthful of pizza.

       "She's crazy, there's no other explanation, just crazy," I shrugged with disbelief.

       "He can be so dramatic sometimes... have you ever dated one of those?" Suzie asked, reaching for a second piece.

       "Sure, everyone dates a Polly Anna at least once," Laurel offered, taking a piece from the box.

      "Hear that snookums? You're a Polly Anna," Suzie tormented.

      "This has gone to far. I'm not a Polly Anna. She's not my girlfriend. Hell, I've never even met her before today," I shouted.

      Both women set silently for a moment, looking at me.

Slowly, Suzie stood, dabbed a napkin across her mouth and put her shoes on again.

       "I see you're going to be in one of your moods today, so I'm going home," She announced, tugging at her top, pulling it down roughly over her hips.

       "Good," I said folding my arms with satisfaction.

Laurel took a step back, making room for Suzie to leave, turning her head a little to conceal a faint smile.

       "Before I go," Suzie said stepping around the coffee table, "if I'm not his girlfriend how do I know he's terrified you'll discover this?"

At that instant, to my shock, Suzie reached behind me grabbing the spoon from my waistband.

       "I... I... I...," I stammered. My head spun with sudden embarrassment as she held my spoon over her head for all to see.

       "A spoon?" Laurel asked incredulously.

       "I know, right?" Suzie asked spinning the wooden utensil between her fingers like a baton. "How would I know about this if we weren't a couple?"

       "I don't know what to say," Laurel mouthed weakly.

       "Don't worry about it," Suzie quipped. "Everyone has some little quirk... Johnny just hides his in a spoon."

       I was so dumfounded I was frozen in place. I couldn't speak, I couldn't move, time stood still as my heart began to pound in my ears.

      "Call me when you get home lover and we'll kiss and make up," Suzie said nonchalantly, slipping the spoon into my shirt pocket, patting it lightly.

       "Really, I could come back," Laurel said hesitantly, dropping the remainder of her pizza back into the box, wrestling with her pockets, searching for her keys.

       "It's alright Hun," Suzie said lightly, reaching out to touch Laurel's arm.   "Just remember, it's a school night."

       "Look, you don't have to go. I didn't realize... I mean... perhaps we got off on the wrong foot," Laurel offered.

       "She's not my girlfriend," I said emphatically, shaking my head.

       "So ask," Suzie barked, folding her arms, now annoyed.

       "No, don't. I want to go. She's crazy. She has nothing to do with me. We're leaving," I commanded.

       "Fine, have it your way but know now, we're not playing Lord of the house and the French maid when you get home," Suzie chided, pointing an angry finger in my face, heading for the door.

       "We've never played French anything," I tried to explain, flabbergasted at the thought.

       "Oh, he's played alright and don't let him show you his man servant Mr. Little. Not if you ever want to get the image out of your head, that is," Suzie shouted in defense, slamming the door behind her.

       "You ride?" Laurel asked undaunted by Suzie's remark.

       "I'm sorry?"

       "Motorcycles, you ride?"

       "I've never been on one, I mean, I always wanted to but... I've been busy," I offered weakly.

       "It's alright, come on. I'll show you how, I have an extra helmet. We can get an ice cream or something," Laurel suggested cheerfully, looping her arm through mine.

       I was suddenly on cloud nine as we made our way to the parking lot, flattered, arm in arm with her. I liked her. I liked the way she smelled, the way her body moved, the way she smiled. She was smart, beautiful and appeared to like me. Who knew? It could become something more, maybe.

My head spun with the possibilities, floating higher and higher until... I saw it.

       Parked in the shade on the far side of the lot was a jet black motorcycle. It looked like something out of a movie, bristling with bright chrome pressed against a long, black leather seat. It looked huge, beefy, dangerous. It's handle bars lay tight, close to the gas tank and it roared with power before the engine even started.

       "Here, put this on," Laurel said, handing me the helmet strapped to the seat.

       "It's ah... pretty. What is it?" I asked nervously, taking the helmet.

       "It's a Harley," she said with surprise.

       "Yeah, that would have been my guess," I returned, a little hurt at the tone in her voice. It was true... Harley Davidson would have been my guess. It was the only bike name I knew... that and Schwinn.

       She's a V Rod Muscle bike, 122 horses and the most bad a*s fun you can have standing up," She said swinging a leg over the bike, starting it in one smooth motion.

       I did my best to hide the trepidation that now filled me. Wild herds of butterflies suddenly ran rampant through my stomach up my throat and back again. The shaky feeling in my knees and the fear that they would buckle surprised me.

      "Get on. Let's ride," Laurel ordered, patting the empty seat behind her. She scooted forward a little, making room for my clumsy attempt to straddle the machine.

      I shifted my weight several times, trying to decide where I should put my hands, settling on slipping my thumbs into her belt loops.

      "Ready?" she asked.

      I nodded, unable to speak.

      She twisted the handle several times in secession and the engine rumbled loudly to life, vibrating furiously under us in response.

      The machine glided through the parking lot, heading toward the open road as if it had a mind of its own. My heart pounded in unison with our speed as Laurel thread her way through traffic, going faster and faster until I could hardly catch my breath.

      "Lean with me," she yelled as we made turn after turn.

      My natural intuition was to remain up right as the bike tilted from left to right but against my better judgment I did as she asked, following her body movements.

      It was exhilarating beyond anything I had experienced or imagined. I had never felt so alive. It was as if we had become part of the bike and the machine had become alive with the desire to devour the road... all of it. Inch by inch, mile by mile it filled me with an excitement, a euphoria, that made me laugh... wildly.

      "You alright?" Laurel asked slowing down, thinking something was wrong.

      "Never better," I shouted, slipping my hands around her waist, holding tight.

      She twisted the throttle and the machine vaulted into the air, lunging forward as if suddenly unleashed from a life time of captivity and I began to laugh like a madman. Cars, houses, trees, complete neighborhoods all slipped away, fading in the distance behind us. The air rushed past us, thundering in my helmet. I loved it, all of it. Life was really, really good, I wished it would never end.

      Time had gotten away from us. It was nearly ten by the time we got back to my place.

      "I've got to get one of these," I said slipping off her bike, feeling bowlegged. "I had a great time."

      "It was fun," She returned with a smile, still sitting on the bike.

      "We should do this again."

      "We should," she said, and I believed she meant it. She stood for a moment to kiss my cheek.

      I wanted to say, no, wanted to ask her to come in... to stay but I couldn't do it. I don't know what held me back.... I just stood there.

      "See you around," she said at last and drove away.

      "Idiot," I chastise myself, making my way back to my apartment.

      To my surprise the door was unlocked. I thought sure I had locked it before Laurel and I left, and then I noticed it... my mail was sitting on the entry table.

      As I turned the corner, there, sitting on my couch reading a magazine... Suzie.

      "Why are you here... again?" I questioned angrily.

      "And why wouldn't I wait for my boyfriend in his apartment? Wouldn't I want to see him after his date with another woman?"

      "Stop saying that, I'm not your boyfriend. How did you get into my house?"

      "I have a key... the one you gave me, of course," Suzie answered smoothly.

      "I never gave you a key."

      "Of course you did. It's not like I stole your's and made a copy, I have scruples," her voice hinted at being insulted.

      "I hate you, get out," I shouted, thrusting my finger toward the door.

      She didn't move. She just sat there with her legs crossed and one foot idly bouncing up and down.

      "Did you hear me?"

      "Yep," she returned with disinterest, flipping another page of her magazine.

      "Then go," I roared as I made an exaggerated sweep toward the door.

      "Nope," she said firmly, making a popping sound with her pronouncing of the word.

      "What's wrong with you? I don't want you here... you're not my girlfriend, you're not my lover, you're not anything to me. Why can't you get that through your head?"

      "Nope, you're my boyfriend, we're a couple and that's the end of it. Now did you get something to eat or were you to busy to take care of your self?" She said setting the magazine aside to stand.

      "Are you mental? I don't understand... we are NOT a couple, never have been, never will be," I said trying to make myself clear.

      "No I'm not mental but I am a psychic and yes we are a couple. Would you like to know the names of our children?" she asked in all seriousness.

      "Children?" I gasped.

      "Yes, Jesse and Jessica, and while we're talking about it, Jessica will need braces so we will need to start saving right away. Jesse on the other hand will have perfect teeth but will have trouble with algebra, so you'll have to..."

      "What are you talking about? If you're on meds get off, if you're not get on... quick because you're out of your cotton picking mind," I shouted, moving to open the door.

      "You'll see. I have a 93% accuracy rate. Mostly with other people, only about 17% where it comes to myself. That's pretty much true to form for all psychics. I think its a ying and yang thing. Don't you?"

      "Look, let me make it as clear as I can. I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't care about the imaginary world you have floating around in your head. I appreciate your coming to my aid when I needed it, I really do but I don't want to play any more. I'm tired, I hurt and... Please, just go," I implored.

      "Your mother said you could be stubborn but I never thought," she said, coming around the coffee table.

      "My mother?" I rasped, it suddenly felt as if all the air had just been sucked out of the room.

      "She was very sweet. She wanted us to come by on Sunday for dinner but I told her how busy we both were this week and asked to reschedule."

      "You've gone to far, please, just go," I mouthed weakly. My head spun at the thought my mother was involved with this crazy woman. I wanted to throw up.

      "Alright. I get it. I'll call her later, no rush," she said, heading for the door.

      "No, no you won't. My mother no longer concerns you, understand?"

      "Well, we'll see. Nice spoon by the way," she said patting my pocket.

      It was like throwing cold water in my face. I had forgotten all about the spoon. I had to get my head straight. I couldn't let her get to me.

      "Call you tomorrow, snucums," she called as I slammed the door behind her.

      I drew a deep breath, exhausted beyond words. The silence was comforting, almost cool as it settled in around me. For that moment the day was finally over and I felt like I had won.

     Then, as I turned out the light, from behind the living room curtain came a voice.

     "Thank God. I thought she'd never leave."

 

 

Reviews

[Samuel Price]

Veary good!