Jayne with a Y, 27

Chapter 22

Jayne with a Y, 27 

It’s Friday and I’m sitting in my classroom waiting for my advisory to get here. They’ve been asking me for a couple of weeks if I’ve gone out with anyone lately, and I’ve been somewhat sorry to disappoint them. I’m even running out of stories to tell them from the summer. I haven’t gone out with anyone since Katrina. I don’t know what it is exactly �" maybe remembrance of her joke which included offensive racial slurs against at least four different races and two religions, or maybe my general lack of success in meeting anyone that’s piqued my interest, or the sight of that goddamn couple dancing in the streetlight �" but I’m starting to lose faith, just a little. 

Still, something interesting happened this morning as I dropped Leia off at her doggie day care, something I didn’t expect would ever happen �" and I’m curious to hear my student’s perspective on this situation. My advisory starts trickling in, but I wait for them all to get there. I want a well-rounded, diverse opinion on this matter. 

“Alright guys, here’s what happened…” 

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        I pull into the daycare, expecting to see the same girl who is always there in the morning answer the door �" with her big dark straggly hair, skin paler than a ghost, socially awkward. I don’t know what her name is, but whenever I see her, the name Lurch comes to mind �" and it certainly fits her character, but something unexpected happens after I ring the bell and the door opens.

        Lurch answers in her usual fashion �" opening the door slightly as though the sun might melt her if she gets too much exposure, and she looks exactly the same as she always does, her hair maybe even bigger and puffier than usual, her skin maybe a shade paler, and she is equally if not more awkward than normal as she greets Leia and ignores my existence. 

“Thanks,” I say, but as I turn to walk away, she whispers something that freezes me in my tracks, and I’m pretty sure I know what she said, but I know she couldn’t have said it. 

       “Sorry, what was that?” I ask, certain I must have misheard her. 

        "Would you like to go out sometime?"

I don’t know how to respond…

… but as I stand there looking at her, considering the possibility that she may be a vampire in search of someone to feed on, I find that there’s a part of me that’s strangely… dare I say… attracted to her. Not in a conventional way, more like a Morticia Adams type, which is not my type per se �" yet, in this moment she’s sort of cute-ish. Suddenly I realize a ridiculous amount of time has passed with me standing here in silence, and I’m about to answer even though I don’t quite know exactly what I’m going to say, when the door slams shut and she vanishes back into her dark confines with Leia. 

       I think about ringing the bell again and saying… 

        Well, I don’t know what the hell to say. I stand there for a minute, get back in the car and here I am, an hour later. 

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        “So, what do you think?” I ask. 

        “You got a picture of her?” Alessandro asks. 

        “How hot is she?” Jadyn asks, sounding much like I imagine my father would if I’d asked for his advice in the matter. 

        “Why does that matter?” Ava says, shooting Jadyn a nasty look. 

       “No, I don’t, and Ava’s right. It doesn’t matter,” I say, partially lying because it does matter at least a little. I won’t answer his question, but now I’m starting to wonder about how I would rate her. Normally a four or so, but after she asked me out this morning �" maybe like a six or seven? 

       “It’s probably too late,” Christian says. 

      “Yeah Thomas,” Marky says, “You fucked up and blew it my dude.” 

        “Language, Markus,” I say half-heartedly. Same as every year �" my conviction has begun to waver against the swearing, especially with my advisory. It’s hardly worth the wasted breath at this point. “But you really think so?” 

“Yeah, no coming back from this one, Thomas. You blew it.” 

        I don’t know why, but somehow, I feel deflated hearing it. 

       “You all think that too?” I ask. A few of them nod, others just stare ahead but their silence tells more than their words could. 

        “Wanna know what I think?” Rosa says. After three years of listening to what Rosa thinks, being forced to endure and suffer the agony of her every wild, inappropriate, oftentimes spiteful and violent thoughts, my initial response is to say no �" but I’ve continued seeing different sides of her this year, and I’m starting to realize they aren’t all bad. What’s the worst that can happen? 

       “Yeah, go for it, Rosa.” 

        “You’re kind of an a*****e,” Rosa says, bringing me back to nostalgic recollection of the old days between us when my next instinct was oftentimes to shield myself from flying objects, and to prepare to explain to the administration why another three computers were broken in my classroom. But she doesn’t move this time. Nothing whizzes towards me or past my head. There are no shattering objects. She just sits there, her arms folded, the look on her face showing disgust. 

        “How so?” I ask, if for nothing else, out of curiosity. 

        “Really? You’re over here calling her Lurch because you don’t know her name? And making fun of her for being pale and because of her hair? Like I said, Thomas. You’re an a*****e.” 

        I’m speechless, and not in the way that Rosa Cortez has left me speechless in the past by doing and saying the most ridiculous, absurd and offensive things that would give Katrina, 33 a run for her money. I find myself at a loss for words right now because… maybe Rosa’s right. ‘

Who the hell am I, an overweight guy with hair covering every inch of my body minus the one place that it really ought to be, to pass judgment on anyone because of how they look? I know what I have to do. 

><><>< 

        It’s my planning period, and despite having seven thousand better things to do with my time, I’m about to spend it sitting here listening to a new episode of “S****y Dating Advice with Dad”. I’m not all that concerned about his opinion in the matter, but sometimes it’s nice to just talk to him about something wild and listen to his opinion, every now and then there’s even a diamond among the rocks. My dad answers with his usual, “You got Frank here.” 

><><>< 

I’ve just explained the situation to my father, and ended with the question, “Have you ever not found someone attractive, then one day, for no reason, you just… do?” 

       I know his pattern, and I know what he’s going to ask next. He doesn’t disappoint. 

“I mean, how attractive is she?” 

        “A six or seven now. Used to be a four,” I say. I’ve even prepared myself for the next question, and answer before he gets a chance to ask, “Six face, seven body.”

        “And you’re worried she’s a vampire…?” My dad asks, and I can’t tell if he’s joking but his silence tells me he’s waiting for an answer. 

   “I was joking, dad. Well, maybe a wanna-be vampire, not a real one. I don’t know, she’s probably not, but she’s a little weird. But do you think I blew it? Should I ask her out?” 

        “A six face, seven body, and you have to ask me?” He laughs, “If you don’t want to take her out, I will,” he says, leaving a funny and equally horrifying image in my head. 

><><>< 

        As I drive to pick up Leia, hoping that Lur… I mean, the dark-haired girl with pale skin is there so that I can right a wrong, I think about how incredible it is, and how lucky I am that I have a job where I am constantly learning new things, oftentimes from unexpected sources like Rosa Cortez. I was acting like an idiot and an a*****e, and maybe she’ll say no, but a part of me really does want to go out with her. I ring the bell, and she opens the door. 

        “Hey. I’m sorry about this morning.” She doesn’t look me in the eye, but seems to be listening. “It just… caught me by surprise, but if you are still interested, yes, I would love to go out.” 

><><>< 

        It turns out her name is Jayne. She’s twenty-seven, and I don’t know why she felt the need to emphasize the fact that it’s, “Jayne, with a y,” but she did - and then she said yes. Now I’m at Plant City, a plant-based restaurant, her choice, which I suppose closes the case on the possibility of her being a vampire, unless vegan vampires are a thing.

        I’m nervous, more so than usual, and I don’t really know why �" though I suspect much of those nerves come from not having read a profile in advance. Despite seeing this woman five days a week for well over two months now, I still know almost nothing about her. Up until this afternoon, I didn’t even know her name. Then again, I suppose she must like dogs since she works with them all the time, and Leia seems to like her, so that’s a good sign. She also had the confidence to ask me out which is a wonderful quality in someone. And given her gothic appearance, maybe she’s a fan of horror, perhaps my favorite genre of books and movies when it’s done right. Maybe we could sit around one day and watch The Shining, or read Mathew Lewis’ The Monk, or Jackson’s The Haunting of Hill House �" or anything by Richard Matheson. 

        The door opens, and I see Jayne �" her hair not as puffy and big as usual, her skin looking like precious ivory, her clothes colorful and vibrant and not their customary black, and she looks damn good.

And suddenly as I sit here, in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by a strange breed of people known as vegans, watching Jayne with a y as she shuffles towards me, a rush of confidence grows in me �" optimism seems to flow through my veins. Maybe she’s the one �" and maybe I was wrong when I thought the internet was the place I’d find her. It could be her. And if not, what’s the worst that could happen? 

><><>< 

        The check just came, and I couldn’t have predicted things going as well as they have. The conversation between us has covered a diverse range of topics from dogs to literature to movies to our favorite video games and music of the 90s, and I can’t believe how similar our taste is in so many things. As predicted, she loves horror �" and though her blend of horror is more blood and gore and mine psychological and mind-bending, we share an affection for many of the classics. Even the vegan food, that at first, I questioned whether was fit for human consumption, wasn’t bad. 

        “So, what are you up to for the rest of the night?” Jayne asks. 

        “Not sure, probably just going to head home to Leia and get some grading done.” 

“Oh. Well, I was thinking, and it’s totally fine if you say no, but if you want, we could go back to my place and have a drink. No pressure,” she says, a familiar gleam in her eyes. Now that’s a turn I didn’t see this night taking. 

        “Yeah, why not,” I say. I don’t know if it’s really for a drink, or if she has something else in mind �" but either way, considering how well things have gone to this point, I wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with her. Like I said earlier, what’s the worst that could happen? 

><><>< 

I follow Jayne to her place, which is only a mile or so from mine. I park behind her and she waits for me to get out. As I walk up to her, she reaches for my hand. Her hand is surprisingly soft and warm, and she leads me around the back of the large white house, giggling adorably the whole time �" leading me to suspect that maybe this is more than just me coming over for a drink, but I’m careful to temper my expectations and not be overly presumptive. Just because I’m here, doesn’t mean anything is going to happen.

        Jayne’s apartment is on the first floor, and as she ushers me around, I’m shocked at how clean and bright everything is in, when my expectation was a dark dungeon. 

       “You live alone?” I ask. 

        “I have a roommate, but she’s asleep.” 

       “This is my room,” she says, opening the door and revealing a space that’s far more in-tune with my expectations. Two of the walls are red, two are black �" and almost every inch is covered with posters of what I can only assume are bands with gothic-sounding names like “Blood Slave” and “Crimson River”. There’s a bed with black sheets, and a bookshelf lined with many familiar titles. It’s dark, clean, simple.

I follow her into the living room, where there’s a black couch and a big TV with a fricken Sega Genesis hooked up to it, which she told me she had, but I wasn’t sure I believed its existence until now and I’m psyched. 

“Make yourself comfortable. Want a drink?” 

“Yeah, I’d love one,” I say, tossing myself down on the couch and eyeing the Sega excitedly, hoping that she asks if I want to play, but not wanting to be the one to bring it up first. Jayne hands me a beer and sits close to me on the couch. 

“So, I was going to invite a few people over if you’re cool with that. Have a few drinks, chill out a bit. Is that alright?” She asks. It wasn’t what I had in mind, and I’ll have to wait to hear the trademark “Seeeega” harmony, but I wouldn’t mind having a few drinks and getting to know her a little better. Besides, one thing I’ve come to learn in life is that you can learn a lot about people by seeing the kind of people they hang around with. 

“Sounds good,” I shrug. 

“Cool. I’m going to kick your a*s at Mortal Kombat until they get here,” she says �" perhaps the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, sending a warm fluttery feeling through my gut. 

“I’ll warn you,” she says, “I’m pretty good.” 

I’ve heard that line before, just before I played pool with the demonic Samantha �" but this time I’m the one giggling because “pretty good” isn’t going to cut it. Not against me, not at vintage video games.

><><>< 

Never in a million years did I expect when I woke up this morning that at 11:52 tonight, I’d be sitting here with the girl from Leia’s daycare, drinking beers while playing Sega, and actually enjoying getting my a*s kicked. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was good. If anything, she downplayed just how good she is. I’ve played video games my entire life, but she’s downright among the best Sega players I’ve ever come across �" and she does this thing where she sticks her tongue out and bites it with her teeth as she plays, and my inner nerd is finding it extraordinarily attractive. 

As we’re about to start a new game, there’s a knock on the back door. 

“I’ll be right back,” Jayne says. I hear several voices and some footsteps, and expect to meet a few new people, but after a few minutes, Jayne comes back in the living room alone �" and she’s changed out of her colorful clothes and into a black dress. Her hair is suddenly back to it’s normal poofiness. She says, "We're going down to the basement. You coming?"

I swallow… hard. My students will tell you that Mister Thomas has two fears in life �" snakes and basements. Snakes are an obvious choice �" because they are slithery, devious, disgusting and fast as hell little legless freaks of nature, but I live in New England and all we really have here a garter snakes, but they appear so rarely that it’s not something I’ve had to deal with often.

        Basements, on the other hand… the mere thought of a damp, dank basement with stone walls and filled with a variety of old stuff and strange sounds and smells is enough to send a cold chill down my spine. Some of them, like the one in my house growing up, scare the living s**t out of me. I’d rather go to the dentist, get a vasectomy, or go out with Katrina, 33 again rather than go into a basement �" but I don’t want to look like a p***y. I know it’s an irrational fear, and with how well things are going, I figure what’s the worst that could happen? 

“Sure,” I say, trying my hardest to sound confident when I already feel the icy chill grabbing hold of me. I hold my breath as I follow Jayne down the stairs and into the dark basement, but I feel the chill leave me, and can breathe once more as soon as I see it’s furnished �" which in my mind, and I don’t know the source of this logic, no longer categorizes the room as a basement. It’s a small room, no bigger than eight by ten with black walls, a black leather couch, a mini-fridge, a shelf with candles and books �" very “un-basement-like”. There is a door on the right-hand side of the room, which Jayne walks towards and reaches for the knob. She turns back to me, and I’m hoping it doesn’t lead to another more basementy room, that I’m not about to play the role of Fortunato from The Cask of Amontillado. 

“Follow me,” she says, disappearing into the dark room. I’ll confess that as I make my way into the mysterious room, I’m a little creeped out, but I tell myself there’s nothing to be afraid of. The door closes, leaving me standing there in a sea of black and silence, until I hear whispers �" three, four, five �" I can’t tell how many different voices, and I don’t know what they are saying. What the f**k is going on? 

A warm hand grabs hold of mine, ushers me through the darkness, surrounded by indiscernible whispers that are growing louder �" and all I want to do is scream out, or swing my arms - but I’m so horrified that no words will escape me and my body doesn’t respond. The hand lets go of me, and in an instant, a light appears �" a candle, then another, and another and one more. 

I’m standing in the middle of the room which is now illuminated, and as I turn, I see I am encircled by four people dressed in all black. Jayne is here, holding a candle in front of her face that’s making her pale face glow orange. There’s a tall guy, skinny as a twig, with a long face, wearing a top hat and what appears to be a black cape. There’s a woman with about eighty-six piercings on her face and a wand in her hand, and another with red hair, wearing a tall black witches’ hat, and a black tee-shirt with a kitten on it.

I look around. There’s a table in the room with several vials that contain red concoctions, a mortar and pestle, two large black books both with pentagrams on their covers, and a large black pot sits beside the table. A… cauldron?

“Tonight, we welcome a new member into our coven,” Jayne speaks followed by a chanting sound from each of the four. 

“Coven?” I snort. Suddenly this makes all makes sense �" well, it makes no f*****g sense at all, but I get what’s going on. 

“Yes, we are the Coven of the Night,” Jayne says. As if they’ve practiced this before, each takes a step forward in perfect unison, closing in around me, voicing the words “Coven of the Night”. I don’t know if I should be afraid, or laughing my a*s off. At least a part of me is doing both. 

“Sssshhhtate your name,” the human piercing experiment says with a heavy speech impediment. 

“Umm… no thanks,” I say.  

The tall guy glares at me, opens his mouth and in his voice squeaky and high-pitched like he hasn’t gone through puberty says, "You do not wish to become a warlock?"

“I’m good,” I say, turning back and reaching for the door knob. It’s locked.

“You cannot break the ssshircle! Only the massshhhter can releassshe you.” 

“She’ll be here, soon,” Jayne says, smirking. “In the meantime, this is Chris.” She motions towards the tall guy, who removes his hat and bows. “Chris of the Night,” he introduces himself. 

“And Lady Mirabelle,” Jayne says, holding the candle to her left and shining it on the redhead, “And Sally of the Dawn,” she says. Poor Sally. Tough name for someone who talks like that. 

“Umm… okay. Nice to meet you all, I guess. Who’s the mas �"“ 

The door behind me swings open, and I turn to see the familiar face of a woman dressed in all red, a pentagram necklace dangling from her neck.

    “Rhiannon?” I gasp. I was hoping I’d never see this wacko again.

“So, mortal, you wish to join our ranks?” 

“No,” I sigh. “Can I just… go?” 

“Very well, I will release you from the circle under one condition. You must - “ 

“Jayne?” A woman’s voice calls. “Everything okay down there?” 

“Yeah, we’re good, mom! Just having some friends over.” 

“You guys want snacks?” 

“No thanks, mom,” Jayne says. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes, mom!” She screams. Her “roommate” is her mother? Now I can’t help but laugh. Still, I just want to get out of here. 

“Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

“Alright, what’s the condition?” I ask. 

“You must drink the elixir of the night,” she says, motioning to a red mixture on the table. 

“That’s not happening,” I say. It’s probably fruit punch, but I’m all set with drinking random substances, “What else you got?” 

“You must commit yourself to weekly meetings with us for one year, or until you see the light and join our ranks.” 

A year? I don’t have to consult with Mister Thomas, math teacher, to know that’s fifty-two days surrounded by these whack jobs. I’d rather take the potion. I’d rather play the role of Fortunato. 

“Sorry, no way,” I shake my head. 

“Very well. My last and final offer is this. You must never speak of what you saw here tonight. If you do, the earth mother will not be pleased. Swear it, and I shall release you.” 

“I swear it,” I sigh.  

“Very well,” Rhiannon says, stepping aside. 

“See you Monday,” Jayne says, as I leave the room. I don’t answer, but I’m already wondering if there are other doggie day cares in the area. I practically sprint up the stairs and out the back door. As I walk to my minivan, I hear muffled yelling coming from inside. 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt our rituals?” Jayne screams.

><><>< 

       It’s 12:44 in the afternoon on Saturday, and I believe that 99% of my social circle has heard the story of what happened to me last night. I made it through the night with my vow of secrecy intact, but when I woke up this morning on the verge of bursting a cork, I decided this was something the world must know. I called friends and relatives, people I haven’t spoken to in years �" stopped just short of calling my advisory students on the weekend to fill them in. 

       I don’t have a date tonight, and I’m not in the mood to look for one. Maybe I’ll try to get some writing done… 

><><>< 

        It took about three minutes to determine that the writing could wait, for there were still others, more people I know, people from a lifetime ago that I had not yet told of my run-in with the Coven of the Night. I called my advisory too �" even spoke with Rosa Cortez who now agrees that we can start calling Jayne Lurch again.