My whole body was killing me, and by the looks of things I had not fallen very well as I stared at the crusts of blood that were still in the corner of my nose. I pulled the shards of glass from my hands, and there was no explanation for the glass with all the windows back in place, and perfectly dirty. Lord knows why I have any vanity left as I was standing in front of the mirror trying to adjust myself. My head was ringing, no make that raging, and there was a throbbing throughout my body as I now had realized that I was able to hit every inch of me on something during that 4 foot drop I had from the top of the stairs to the bottom. Everything was back to normal, but I had enough evidence on me to tell me contrary. Single mommy is prepared for anything, even if it makes no sense after all. You ever get an explanation about something naughty from a pre-teen child before, and you get a sense for the unexplainable and that which is simply hard to explain. I was in the latter and the fact that everything was back to normal had no bearing on me because I know what happened now. I have not actually ever been even a little bit off aside from my poor taste in men, but I rectified that by avoiding men altogether, so no harm no foul. That showed my true sanity, and yes if you are wondering I was having this conversation with myself at the time. It is best to be as accurate as possible while not being too boring. Seriously though, nobody had ever questioned my sanity before now, so I had to believe my lying eyes all the same.
I at least had myself looking decent again, and the glass was out of my skin but tucked away for safe keeping. I had no intention of letting the imaginary glass out of my safe keeping, but to be honest with you all up front, I do not ever have a use for it again. It was good to know I had it in the washroom should I need it later. I adjusted my blouse and finished washing up my hands to make sure that any of my imaginary wounds do not get a very real infection. I was ready to finally get that cup of coffee and sit to ponder my insanity.
When I walked out of the bathroom the stranger, Lou was sitting at the end of the counter reading his big old book and hardly taking notice of the closed sign or me for that matter. To show where my mind was at, I did stop swooning for a moment to look towards the door and see that he did not pay any mind to the fact that it was locked either. The way my day was going, I did not even bat an eyelash as I walked over with a cup and the coffee pot that I had left on for myself to take home and started pouring it for him. He looked up at me a little puzzled, and then back down at his book. I did not say a word as I walked away from him and towards the kitchen door. The fact being at this point that I really did not care about any of the questions because my head hurt, and I am sure that he did not have any answers that I wanted to hear. He acted normal after the odd look he gave me when I showed up with the coffee. I still did not swoon but when I looked over my shoulder at him, I caught him looking up at me and his face got back in his book as soon as he was spotted. Ok I swooned a little.
I marched into the kitchen and did a quick inventory of what was left to do, the dishwasher had finished its cycle, and I put the last bit of dishes into it. It was not a full rack, but I do not leave dirty dishes over night because it just is not sanitary in this business. I happen to be a clean freak since I cannot exactly afford to miss work because of some laziness virus, so I continue to clean up all the counters with the disinfectant I always use. I put Lou clean out of my mind, and I stopped to think of that, which was a dumb thing to do because now he was back in my mind, and I was obsessing again. I could not take it any longer and finally went back into the diner itself.
When I came out of the kitchen, he was not paying any mind to me anymore, he was simply reading his book, and his coffee cup as always was empty. I really did not think about the fact that the place was closed as I started another pot of coffee. It coincided with me putting the last of the other pot in his cup. I was thinking about how I would have thrown any other person out of here by now. He gulped down the steaming hot coffee and my enchantment around him must have broken at that time. “Most people would be going to the hospital drinking 200 degree coffee strait from the pot,” and then pausing I decided to add, “well actually all people would, so don’t you think that perhaps you should at the very least try to look like you fit in?” and he shot me a look that was almost scared. I mean it was almost startling how he looked at me as if he were terrified of something. Then there was that look of confusion before he got his face back into his book. It all happened so fast I am still amazed I saw it.
“You’re the first person I have ever met that lost the enchantment,” he said to me as if I was supposed to comprehend what he just said. He gave me a lot of credit in that one statement but then continued as if I was his equal. You had to be there to get what I mean since as I said before this man despite my lack of “enchantment” was so beautiful that movie starlets would have groveled as his feet. Come to think of it, why wasn’t he a movie star or something? He was back in his book with the writing I could not read, and it appeared that the conversation on his end at the very least was over.
I simply walked away because I was not as in control of myself as I had had him fooled into thinking. It took a little bit of effort to do my routine with him around, but what he had just said made me curious, so I had to ask, even if he did not seem too keen to answer the last accusation of how he did not fit in. The more I thought about it I was able to focus more on the fact that he did not actually fit in, and it was beyond the serious crush that I had on him. Well aside from the fact that every woman had a crush on him, but that was still the only thing that was explainable. Look at him for God’s sake and you would understand instantly. “What exactly does ‘lost the enchantment’ mean?” and I stood there with my hands on my hips waiting for his answer, like a huffy little twit.
He took his face away from his book and looked at me. My hands slipped from my hips as he stared right through me, but I was able to control myself. I kept my clothes on anyway. He started talking, “You’re the first woman that has been able to look me in the face and not lose control of some faction of her sanity,” and then he trailed off and started back in on his book. I simply stood there using my feminine ability of not saying anything, expecting him to use his male ability to overly explain things. By not going away and waiting for him to start rambling on again when the silence starts killing him, I knew I had him right where I wanted him. I waited for about ten minutes until my legs started to ache from being stationary and gave up walking away, when he started talking again, “You hate it when I don’t do something that is typical don’t you?”
Being startled a bit myself over the fact that he had read my mind I answered him honestly, “Yes, I like to believe that I understand men really well,” and left it at that. Again, I waited for him to add to what I said, or in some way show his superiority in this circumstance and he did not, which I find infuriating. I finally started talking with a very stern voice, “I assume that you knew that I was waiting for you to respond then?” and then looked at him angrily.
He looked up from his book with a smirk on his face. No longer did he have that confused look that had graced his face when I was being untypical. I must have been typical now even though I did not lust after him I was starting to hate him. He said smoothly, “I did not have anything to add because you stated the obvious. It was an acknowledgement of agreement that I let it end the conversation,” and then went back to his book. My mind was fixated on that book, and as I write this now, I could tell you primarily that I hated that book. That damn book that only he can appear to read and seems to have nothing better to do than read it repeatedly. I cannot believe that I would hate the Bible in this way. The only thing I could feel now was the craven need to snatch the book out of his hands.
Quickly, even effortlessly I ripped that large moldy book clean out of his hands. I was totally immersed with horrible emotion. My seething anger was also a new feeling as I had managed to remain neutral in my temper through all my years of waiting tables and dealing with a good for absolutely nothing husband. Nobody ever got to me like this and if you had known me before page one of this book you would think it was rather amusing how one man in one day had made me so entranced with his beauty and so enraged with his attitude. I dropped the book when I looked down and saw plain English written on the pages. It was not even all that garbage, “Thou shalt” this and “Heretofore” that you see in the bibles at the church either. It was plain spoken word American style English with just a hint of small-town Kansas hick in it. The words I saw as the book fell to the back of the counter in slow motion, “I fear no evil, because evil knows my name is cherished by God,” as the book laid open on the cup holder.
I looked up at Lou with a look of sheer panic and apology and to be honest with you I did not want to see or touch that book ever again. I had become the queen of irrational fear in a manner of hours, but then again, I had squeezed a lot of life into these few hours of the first day since this man had walked into my life. In a condescending voice Lou said to me, “That will teach you to grab other people’s things,” and he reached over the counter to grab the book from the cup holder, simply to open it to where he was when I took it away from him and start reading the words I couldn’t understand again. I even shyly looked down at them to make sure they were not English again, and I was correct in my assumption.
“Ok let’s get something strait here, there is something completely f…” and the look he shot at me as he held up his hand and made a noise almost like a parent about to scold a child didn’t stop the rest, “… ucked up about you, and I really don’t care to play the games,” but the bastard was still totally ignoring me aside from trying to stop me from dropping the F Bomb. “What is your problem with me saying the F word anyway?” I then blurted out almost incensed now with how amazingly crazy he makes me. The roller coaster of emotions looking back on it all could be completely dangerous.
“Ladies do not use words like that, and the fact that it means to ‘Lay Down’ in ancient Saxony does not exactly place any real value on it anyway,” he said without looking out of that damn book. Again, the emotions in me just raging as I would have done anything to just start ripping his hair out now. I am seriously starting to wonder in that moment what my own problem was at the time since I had no control over my emotions. I could feel my lip start to curl as my own body was starting to convulse from my own feelings of extreme hatred and blind rage taking control of me. The blood in my very veins was catching on fire, as I knew before it even was going to happen that my hands were ready to dart out again, only this time it was not the book I was after. Almost at the very instant I was feeling my arms leave my sides to do something I had never done before he spoke up, but this time while staring straight into my eyes, “I’m not worth it, and nothing in this world will ever make up for what you are thinking at the moment,” he paused for a moment and then added, “Perhaps you should go out back and lock the back door, I think it is ajar. You would hate to leave the place unlocked, wouldn’t you?”
My mind started fogging over at that moment as it was the last thing I remember before my mind desperately wanted to go check that door. I was completely befuddled as to why I would do something as stupid as to leave that back door unlocked. Getting that door locked now became the most important thing in the world. I was running into things as I frantically went out to the kitchen to get that door locked. My mind was just racing as I was emotionally abusing myself about being so stupid as to leave that back door open, and I was going to fix that before it ruined everything. There it was and as I look back, I know I could see the door was locked but my mind had to make sure. The latch could be loose and then it would be my entire fault, and how could I live with myself? I reached for the handle and grabbed it firmly.
I snapped out of it a minute or so after I grabbed the locked door, but it took me a few minutes to stop shaking it trying to prove that it was not locked. Aside from all the panicked feelings that I had getting from Lou to that door I look at that irrationality as a lesson. It is like the dream when I had finally realized to test the smell and the taste of what is going on around me. Here I had to realize that my behavior was not passing the smell test in any form. I barely remembered Lou telling me that the door was unlocked, and it took me a few days to clear that up in my own head, but as I turned and walked back out from the kitchen, I saw nothing more than an empty diner. What I felt at that moment was that eerily familiar feeling of need that I had felt the last time he had left me like this. I should rephrase that. When he left the restaurant at this point honesty dictates that I tell you that he does not feel like he is gone, just not in my sight, and that makes me feel sad ... to be continued.
Comments
Post a Comment