Brinkhurst.com

Jessica is looking at me to define what’s happening between us. Yes, it is happening fast, but how do you define something like this. I have known her for only hours, but it seems as though we are on a lifetime adventure.

“Jess, I said with, meaning that I’m with you, and I want to be with you.”

“Oh. I like that,” she said.

“Ren. We’re out,” I said.

“Cool Matt. I’ll get this to you soon.”

“Sam. Sam! Hey Sam,” Ren’s mother said as she ran up to me and gave me a great big hug.

“Hey Judy,” I responded.

“Uh. Sam? Who is Sam?” Jessica asked.

“Judy, this is Jessica. She is a love interest of mine,” I said.

“Jessica, this is Judy. She is a lover of mine, when I’m not with anyone,” I said.

Jessica looks more intrigued than anything else. Judy extends her hand with a genuine smile on her face.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Judy says to Jessica.

“The pleasure is mine,” Jessica retorts.

Ren is the only one in the room that looks awkward. I never care if everyone knows the truth about everything, but it can cause some discomfort for those around me.

“Judy, it was lovely seeing you again. Perhaps the three of us could go out for drinks some time,” I said while kissing her on the cheek.

She held me close, while pretending to whisper in my ear, but she was really sucking on my earlobe, driving me crazy, getting me aroused.

“Good seeing you Sam.”

We walk out of Ren’s place, and Jessica has nothing but questions for me.

“Matt, it is Matt right?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Was I just in a 1 bedroom apartment where a hacker lives together with his mom?”

“Yes. Yes you were.”

“Where does Ren sleep?” she asked.

“If he sleeps, he just falls asleep in his desk chair.”

“So the guy helping us out doesn’t have a bed, doesn’t care about money, and lets you have sex with his mom? Oh, and she thinks your name is Sam?”

“Was there a question in there?” I asked.

“OK, why does she think your name is Sam?”

“It is. To her. My name is Matt, but for some people I’m Sam. Only Ren knows that about me.”

“So, even you lie, huh?”

“No. Sam’s my middle name.”

“You really never lie about anything?” Jessica asked.

“I wouldn’t feel confident saying I never lie. I try not to lie ever, but sometimes I conceal the truth in order to spare someone’s feelings.”

“Give me an example.”

“Right. Let’s say that you are having a really bad hair day, and your hair truly looks ridiculous. In fact, it looks so ridiculous that I can’t even imagine why you would have gone out in public like that.”

“Uh, I hope you’re not really talking about my hair.”

“It’s just an example. Imagine Judy’s hair looked like that.”

“OK.”

“Right, now let’s say that Judy asks hey do you like my hair? I would say that you are every bit as lovely as the first day I met you. It would be true, but I just avoided telling her that her hair looks like crap.”

“I’m not so sure that would work with everyone,” Jessica said with a skeptical look on her face.

“Oh, it works,” I said.

“Where are we headed now?” Jessica asked.

“To the library,” I said while doing a goofy ‘off in the distance’ sort of super hero pose.

“You are an interesting character.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

So, I’m at the library with Jessica, beautiful, beautiful Jessica. We, of course, walked to the library, holding hands the whole way. I know its a bit childish to hold hands, but the whole time, all I could think is how I like her, genuinely like her.

“All right Jessica, this is where your willingness to stay with me really gets tested.”

“You know we’ve only known each other for a matter of hours.”

“I know, but it seems like longer, no?”

“Yeah, it really, really does.”

“Hopefully that buys me some credit. I’ll need it.”

“Matt, seriously? We’re at a library. How could you possibly show me anything that would freak me out in a library.”

I swallowed, but she didn’t notice. I knew a guy who worked in archives, James. I suppose that has to be the first stop.

“James, hey.”

“Sam. Wow. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. This is Jessica; I’m very interested in her.”

“I can see why,” James said while he pulled Jessica’s hand away from me and kissed it.

“Is the Librarian in today?” I asked James.

“She’s mad at you. I don’t know if you want see her,” James replied.

“What you have an overdue book?” Jessica jokingly asked.

“Is she in the meeting room?” I asked James.

“Yes, there’s no meeting though,” James replied.

“Thanks man. Give me a ring sometime,” I said.

James just laughed and kind of nodded his head. He knows I’m impossible to get in touch with. Jessica and I walked over to the meeting rooms and knocked on the door of the room closest to the outside wall. Of course, nobody answered. I opened the door and gave the ‘ladies first’ signal to Jessica. The ‘Librarian’ was sitting down and reading when we walked in.

“Jess, this is the Librarian. Librarian, this is Jessica. She is the woman that I’m with.”

“Oh, so this is her, huh? Why do you have to be so bloody unconventional anyway? Just introduce your wife as your wife.”

“Jessica isn’t my wife.”

“What? Sam, what the hell? You just don’t seem like that type. Seriously, what the hell? I haven’t seen you in a year, and you show up here, with some hoochie that you’re cheating on your wife with. Why the hell does everybody think it’s all right to drop their baggage off here anyway? You think just because I’m a hooker who works at a library you can bring your mistress in here, after I haven’t seen you in 12 months? I don’t do threesomes, so just get the hell out of here.”

“You’re married?” Jessica asked.

“No,” I said.

“He is. You are,” the Librarian returned to both Jessica and me.

“She died, almost a year ago, the kids too,” I uttered at a barely audible level.

Jessica’s phone rings, just in time. I grab it away from her.

“Hello.”

“Hey Matt, Ren here.”

“What did you find out?”

The librarian looked at me with great interest.

“Your guy Jeff, he would otherwise be squeaky clean,” Ren said.

“If it weren’t for?”

“He was charged for murder, but he was never found guilty. Oh, and his lawyer.”

“I bet I can guess it.”

“Yeah, it’s Jessica, Ren said.”

“So – who was the victim?”

“Jeff’s business partner and lover.”

“Wow. Thanks Ren – bye.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say wow before,” the Librarian said.

“Did you find out about your goose?” Jessica asked.

“No. I found out that you helped Jeff elude a murder charge.”

“I did my job,” Jessica said.

“We all have jobs; we all have guilt,” said the Librarian.

“I don’t feel guilt,” I said.

“You’ve never done anything bad?” Jessica asked.

“He’s done bad. He just doesn’t feel guilt,” said the Librarian.

“How is that possible without being a sociopath?” Jessica asked me.

“I know that if I feel bad, I should never do it again. Then I never do it again. I learn from my mistakes and move on.”

“Well. I’ll never do it again. That’s why I left ‘The Quest’,” said Jessica.

“Librarian, it was good seeing you again.”

“You’ll come back won’t you Sam? I miss you, and I miss our conversations that would just last hours and hours.”

“Give me a call when you have some free time, and I’ll come by. I have a lot to tell you about.”

The Librarian waved, no hugs or kisses as I exited. She said nothing to Jessica. The Librarian’s face told me that she didn’t believe I was ever coming back. Knowing the kind of friend I am, she just might be right.

“Where are we going now?” Jessica asked.

“Why don’t we go grab some dinner,” I said.

It was obvious to me that Jessica wasn’t really asking what our next destination was. She wanted to see if I still want her around. She feels guilty for her past, and she wants me to hate what she did, but she wants me to forgive her.

“I’m feeling awkwardness.”

“You feel awkward around me?” Jessica asked.

“No, you are feeling awkward because of what I know, and it is making me feel a bit uncomfortable. There is nothing I’m going to say to try to gloss things over. It doesn’t matter to me because I want you.”

Jessica’s face brightened up. She took my words as a sign of forgiveness, but I wasn’t forgiving her because I didn’t judge her guilty in the first place. Jessica looked at me, very seriously. She looked away from my eyes but still at my face.

“I feel all of these things for you, and it is just so early on. Matt?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking about the goose. I think I know what it means.”

“Did you even here a word of what I said?”

“Yeah. I heard you.”

She stares blankly at me. She wants to know that she’s not alone in her feelings. She wants to know how I feel about her, but she doesn’t ask. Why do people always have expectations of other people? Just tell me what you want to know. She continues to stare blankly at me.

“So, dinner?” I ask.

Once again, Jessica stares blankly at me, so I take her hand and start walking. The very late afternoon quickly turned to evening as we happen upon a diner, which, in a neighborhood of Starbucks and Italian eateries, sticks out like a straight farm boy at a gay club.

“They have all day breakfast.”

Jessica said this with great excitement. It was so loud that everyone at the tables around us looked over.

“Sorry,” she said to me.

“Why?”

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

I could see the look on her face. It made me feel bad that she was so worried what all of the other people around her thought.

“I had unprotected gay sex with an animal,” I yelled out at the top of my lungs.

Jessica looked very shocked.

“What the hell?” Jessica asked.

“I just didn’t want you to be embarrassed anymore.”

“Wait. K. Wait. You didn’t want me to be embarrassed, so you yelled, really loud and graphically about how you abused a male animal?”

“Yeah. I thought that would make everyone forget your outburst. Now, we can laugh, and the tension’s off. No need to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not less embarrassed than I was before,” Jessica said.

A blond waitress, ten to fifteen years younger than  me comes over to our table. If you’re doing the math, that’s fifteen to twenty years younger than Jessica. The waitress looks concerned, probably because of all the loud noises coming from our table.

“Hello, I’m Jet, and I’ll be serving you today.”

She writes her name down on the brown paper that is covering the table.

“Hi Jet. My name is Sam,” I say.

“Nice to meet you Sam.”

It’s funny that Jet introduced herself, but she didn’t expect me to do the same thing.

“Jet, I would like you to meet Jessica.”

Jet gave me a huge bright smile.

“Nice to meet you Jessica.”

“I’m his love interest,” Jessica said.

“Oh. K,” uttered Jet.

“Jet can we please get a pitcher of beer and some nachos to start?” I ask.

“Sure thing cutie,” Jet says to me as she begins to walk away.

Jessica looks angry, steaming mad, fuming.

“So, are you going to get pancakes, or are you more of a bacon and eggs kinda girl?”

“What is with that bitch waitress?”

“Are you mad at her or me?”

“What?”

“Look, Jessica – I love you too.”

“I didn’t say I loved you.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Jet came by quickly with a pitcher of beer, interrupting the conversation I was having with Jessica.

“I’ll have those nachos to you in a few minutes,” Jet said, touching my shoulder.

“Uh, thank you,” I returned, trying not to let out any laughter at the obvious flirting.

“Can I take your order?”

Jet posed the question to Jessica and me.

“Is it not obvious that Matt and I are together?” Jessica asked.

“Matt?” Jet asked.

I laughed out loud at this point, which really threw off Jessica and Jet.

“Jessica calls me Matt. You can call me Sam,” I said.

“So your name isn’t Sam?” Jet asked.

“My name is Sam.”

“Oh, why does she call you Matt?” Jet asked.

“It’s my name also.”

“I’m confused,” Jet said.

“Of course you are. You’re a waitress,” Jessica snapped back.

“Excuse me?” Jet asked.

“There’s no excuse for you. You’re hitting on the man that I’m out to dinner with. What are you thinking?”

“I was just being friendly. Who are you to think you’re so much better than me? What do you do that makes you think that waitresses have to be stupid?”

“I’m a lawyer. I went to school and got a degree for that. I make a difference in this world. I don’t just serve food.”

“You make a difference? By making the world a more litigious place?”

“Can I get three eggs sunny side up with hash browns and whole wheat toast, no butter?”

A moment of silence came over everyone, as Jessica and Jet both snapped out of their fight and back into reality.

“And for you ma’am?”

Jet said that as though she were talking to her grandmother. I realize that most people would feel uncomfortable in a situation like this, but it all just makes me smile. I don’t feel even a bit of tension when I see people arguing. It’s just plain hilarious when two people get into a pissing contest, especially when neither one of them really knows why the argument is happening.

“I’ll have the same thing.”

Jet bent over a bit, heaving her chest slightly. It was not subtle at all.

“I’ll be right back with the nachos,” she said in her sexiest voice.

It was corny that Jet would try something like that. She is very sexy, but it’s all a bit ridiculous for my tastes.

The restaurant manager looked pissed off. He seemed to be giving Jet hell, probably because her and Jessica were fighting.

“Excuse me a minute Jessica.”

I got up and walked toward the manager; Jet walked quickly away, holding back tears.

“Excuse me.” I said

“Yes sir? Did you need your waitress?”

“No. No. My waitress is Jet. I just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t getting into trouble for anything we did. I know that we were getting a bit loud, and if we phased you or Jet at all, I’m very sorry for that.”

“Oh, she’s not in trouble – not at all.”

God damn him for lying to me. He just wants me to go away and be happy.

“OK – well, she’s an amazing person, and I would hate for her to get into trouble for something we did.”

I quickly walked away while he was in mid-sentence. I wasn’t trying to be rude, but I didn’t want to give him a chance to lie to me again. I headed to the washroom, down a long hallway, across from the cashes, and there was Jet walking toward me with the look of recently regained composure on her face.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“I made a terrible mistake,” Jet replied.

“Look, if you’re worried about Jessica don’t be. Things have just been . . .”

Jet cut me off before I had a chance to console her.

“Oh, yeah, don’t worry about your date; it’s not that.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble with the manager over something else?”

“No that dick is mad because I yelled at your date, but I don’t care about that.”

Jet’s eyes started to well up.

“Why are you so upset?” I asked.

“I did something really bad, and now it’s too late to fix it.”

“It’s never too late. Life’s one big second chance. Trust me on that. I got naked at a job interview today.”

“Not for real?”

“Yeah; it was real. It was for an office job too, and you know what?”

“You got the job?” She asked.

“Not yet, but I have a second interview.”

“That’s weird.”

“Look, Jet, if you want a second chance, make it happen.”

Jet wrapped her arms around me, tightly and squeezed. She pressed her head against my chest as though she were ready for a nap, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Jet opened her eyes again and stared intently into mine, as someone always does when they are waiting for a kiss. Jet is so sexy, so hot; I’m drawn in towards her, her thick lips. Something is holding me back too, stopping me. I want to but I can’t. Jet grabs my hand and starts pulling me toward the washroom. What do I do?

I hear yelling behind me, and I see a sense of sudden panic come over Jet. I bet she gets into trouble a lot. Her eyes go from sexy to scared, terrified. Jet is still holding my hand, but she’s looking past me, staring forever past me.

“Jet? Jet.”

I let go of Jet’s hand so that I can turn around and see what she’s looking at, but she must of been pulling me still. When I let her hand go, she fell backwards into the washroom door. She looks stunned.

“Jet? Jet.”

I put my hand out to help her up, and she grabbed it, tight, too tight.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

A blank stare is all that’s returned.

“Jet, is your head OK?”

Jet gasps and her eyes widen; her pupils become enormous. She seems to no longer have any control over what her mouth is doing.

“Jet, are you OK?”

“Sam,” she uttered, barely able to speak it.

“Yes, Jet. Are you all right?”

“Sam.”

I stared at her waiting for more.

“Sam,” she said once again.

“Behind you Sam.”

I turn around to see what could change someone’s mood so quickly, and down the hall I see a man yelling with a gun pointed at the woman behind the register. She’s frozen; he’s getting angrier by the second.

I’m almost frozen, completely trapped in my own body. I’m mustering the strength to try to be the person I’ve always wanted to be. Now, I can face certain death. I can be the honest, genuine person I’m always trying to be. It’s true that I don’t lie to others, but all too often, I spend a lot of time lying to myself. All I have to do is go over there and be myself. I know I’m strong on the inside, but why can’t I move? Why does this all seem like a movie? Why do I always feel like I’m observing my own life? Are we all the audience in our lives? I want to be the director or even the producer. I want to make a difference, everyday, in everything around me. I can move. I can do this. I can be whoever the hell it is that I’ve convinced other people I am, for real. I start walking down the hall, but I feel something actually pulling back, Jet, so I turn around quickly, about to tell her that I have to go.

“Don’t. It’s just money. It’s not worth anything,” Jet says.

“You’re right.”

She’s right. Why would I fight this guy? Why would I help a restaurant keep it’s revenue? Why do I care?

“It’s not worth it,” Jet says.

“You’re right, about the money, but he just shouldn’t be allowed to come in here and wave a gun around.”

I slowly back away from Jet.

“Sam, don’t go. Please.”

I turn around, walking toward the cash. I’m so sick of being an observer in my own life. I close my eyes, still walking toward the cash. I’m calm, relaxed. I see nothing. It’s a blank slate. I’m not the audience. I am the director. I open my eyes, and I shout at the top of my lungs, louder than I’ve ever yelled anything before in my life, in complete jubilation.

“You are my cast!”

I walk right up to the robber, putting myself between him and the women behind the cash. He pokes the barrel into my forehead. I would have expected it to feel cold, but it was a bit warm, almost comforting.

“Move or your dead,” he said to me.

A simple order from a maniac with a gun.

“You are my cast,” I whisper to him.

He doesn’t understand the director / directed relationship. He steadies his hand as though he will shoot me. He presses the gun further into my head and quickly motions his body toward me, trying to get me to flinch.

“Bang!” he yells.

I am motionless. I am a thick cactus on a still day in the desert.

“I’m ready to die,” I say.

He says nothing. He is still, but he is getting angrier.

“I’ll kill you,” he says back to me.

“You aren’t man enough.”

“Just one of the bullets in this gun will make your whole head look like ground beef. Do you really want the back of your head all over the counter behind you?”

“You’re just a little baby. You could never do it.”