| ZYGOTE IN MY COFFEE.COM |
| ***BIO*** amanda oaks (b.1980) is back to living where she was born, in the boondocks of pennsylvania. she runs words dance (wordsdance.com) & tries to stay crafty. her work peppers the small press, online & in print. |
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| © 2006 zygoteinmycoffee Ink. |
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| Stumbling into Harmony |
| by Amanda Oaks |
| I sat at the bar, staring at the TV, but not really listening, sipping sporadically at my
drink, thinking about her— Janea— wondering if I could ever summon up enough nerve to call her. It’s been 2 months. Janea was just like me, lonely, lost and probably will never have her shit together. That’s what made me fall in love with her, that and the dreaminess that her eyes had under arrest, at least with her I wasn’t unaided with my own grief. I had hers to escort mine for 26 months. They had a ball, dressed in their formals, out on the town, parading around their washed-out smiles. Now, it’s just me and mine, glued to a barstool, waiting for someone to come around and free me up. ”Come on buddy,” the aging hunter two stools down from me said, “it wouldn’t kill you to smile, you’re bringing the whole bar down, including me. I see you sitting there, twenty years my junior, sulking in your drink and think, hell, I should be slitting my wrists if this kid’s thinning out – what the hell’s the matter with you anyway?” I had enough energy and wit, after a few drinks and a day of overtime at the plant, to look up at him and say, “I got girl trouble up the ass,” hoping maybe he’d get the reference, but he didn’t. He just looked down to his drink, churned his ice cubes and said above his bushy beard, “Haven’t we all,” finished his glass, slammed it down on the bar next to his tip and left. Maybe he thought I would burden him with my problems. I don’t blame him for leaving, I probably would’ve scatted tail too if I was looking for a good time, a little serenity and a pile of shit was next to me swimming in self-pity. “Jesus,” I considered, “I do need to cheer up”— and that’s when the thump of the door stole me from my stupor. Oh shit, no, fuck, Jesus Christ, can’t a man find peace of mind around here?!? What the hell is she doing here? It was Andrea and some girl. I quickly looked away. I thought it was safe to come back here. It’s been months since I saw her or anyone here. I thought she was away at college doing keg stands, rubbing up some hot-bodied frat boy’s leg over deafening and dreadful pop music. ”Hey there cutie, I’m home for the weekend, it’s been awhile, hasn’t it? How’s, what’s her name, Jane?” she asked as she pulled the barstool, that I purposely slid away from mine, over. This is when I took notice of her friend in tow and thought, I better play it cool, this friend of hers is cute, in an uncanny sort of way. ”<i>Janea</i> and I are no longer. How’s school?” I asked while Andrea dug in her purse for money and a lighter, just before the barmaid took her friend’s order. I listened for confidence, drink selection– sound of voice. ”Vodka Cran please, no ice,” she said without wavering. ”Dude, I’ve been to some sick-ass parties, you should come up sometime.” Andrea said lighting a Marb-Light. ”Yeah,” I said, looking at her friend intently, noticing the small scar above her right eye betting it had a story, as Andrea went on about warehouse raves and aggressive boys. ”Oh,” she said when she saw that I didn’t give two shits about her social life at shaping school,“this is Greta, Greta this is Mike.” She turned, looked into my eyes and stammered over her hello. Her full on stare gave me pangs, her profile, although beautiful, didn’t compare to her frontal shot. Her skin looked soft, her eyes were black under the dim light of the bar. She had jam-packed day-glo lips that spoke in opposition, she was her worst enemy, I’m sure. I put my hand out to shake hers, “Hi,” her hand was warm, they probably had the heat full-blast in the car, because both her and Andrea’s cheeks were flushed. It looked like that or they had just got it on in the car before they came in. I had to coach myself silently, “Enough Mike, composure is key here, don’t be excessively abrasive but don’t look pathetic either.” I had to do this otherwise I would become a stuttering fool like Pete, the convenience store clerk down at the corner that can only work nights. Nice guy, but I don’t think the managers thought he could handle the morning and afternoon rushes, so they had him deal with us, the blurry-eyed bar crowd, I thought it was bad judgment on their part. ”Mike, hello,” Andrea said waving her hand in front of my face. ”I’m sorry, I’m out of it, I had a long day today,” tilting the glass up to finish off my drink. “Well, as I was saying, Greta is a second year English major,” Andrea said with pride, not hiding the fact that she was up to something. Heh, now I get it. I knew what she was up to now. Great, pour the tension on thick, just what I need today Andrea. She probably told Greta all about me already, what she told Greta will remain in question, unless Greta and I get closer, because there was no way in hell I was asking Andrea about it. I just hope she didn’t go full-on into the details about the 4-weekend-in-a-row fling we had a few months before Janea and I got together. Andrea was a sick-pup and I liked it. She let me do anything I wanted to her. She was starving for attention and I guess, I should say, that I probably took advantage of that, I did and I should stop kidding myself about it because that’s probably the center of all my problems. ”So, how long have you been here?” Greta asked, interrupting my pain-staking mania with her yielding voice. ”For a few hours, since 4 or a little before,” I said squinting to see what time the clock, just above the top shelf held, but didn’t hold long enough for me to make a wish that would stick. ”Yeah, it’s 6:30, so for a couple hours or so,” I said with the deliberation of slowing down on drink, so I could at least stick the night out. ”Well, I think this will be the hot spot, since it is Thanksgiving weekend and all, people are home and such, are you staying here?” Andrea asked. ”Yeah, I figured on tying one on tonight,” glancing at Greta’s lips, they were like little fiery magnets. She caught me, but she didn’t recoil like I figured her to, she stared at me dead on and then we both cowered at the intensity of the moment. Leave it to Andrea to fix the silence left hanging, not yet uncomfortable, she’s infamous for her social skills, “Do you guys want to play some music on the box and shoot some pool?” trailed, as she got up, “I’ll rack ‘em.” ”Yeah, sure, let me get another drink, can I buy the two of you something?” I said glancing at Greta’s arm resting on the bar and quickly following it up to her face, as Andrea said, “You know what I drink.” “I’ll have the same,” Greta said looking down and stirring her iceless drink, “but with a few ice cubes this time, not too many though, thanks.” She got up and followed Andrea to the back room. I got a good look at her ass. She knew I was looking, I could tell by the way she walked, all girls give off their own unique strut when they know that someone is looking at their ass. *** ”I can’t believe I’m still standing and functioning,” I whispered in Greta’s ear as we danced to some country song, scrawling its self into the background, that the lonely and semi-slow DJ played from burnt CDs. He had them listed, misspelled and unorganized in static paper photo albums. People could request songs if they had the patience to look through the mess. ”Well, I’m glad you didn’t pass out on me yet, I must be worth something then,” she said wrinkling up her nose a little. The scene here at closing time is like something out of a movie or book. The middle age drunkards stagger and sway, sometimes rowdy, yell and scream and dance knowing that this is the last Saturday ‘til the next. Forty-something women check their hair and makeup on the shitty bathroom mirror in pairs. They flail around like they are twenty and beautiful and have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Which is true, so it really wasn’t that sad of a sight, but still sad enough to notice. But then, there was Greta and I, rocking to the beat of an ending slow song and I didn’t want to care about anything else but that. ”Okay, I’m going to sit for a little,” knowing that if I didn’t get out of there then, I would be forced to dance to some upbeat metal song, or worse yet, an eighties hair band song. ”Oh, come on, live a little Mike.” She said it like she knew me, like I knew me and what we knew, sadly said, is that I could be a dull bastard when I wanted to be. Ram Jam started up, “Oooh, I love this song, stay,” she shouted over the blast of shrieks for the song selection. ”I’ll just sit over there and watch, “ I said winking at her, “I’m a little dizzy, remember I had a head start on the booze tonight.” Her lower lip went out, but rapidly retracted, like she had just had a mini-revelation or something. I walked away, reached for a chair beside the table that held the disordered request albums and sat down. Bobbing my head and tapping my right foot to the music, looking out to find her on the crowded dance floor. Whoa, Black Betty (Bam-a-lam) Shit, look at her, I thought, standing up to get a better look. I don’t know what came over me but I went back out to conjure up a storm. I grabbed her hips and we were dancing like our lives depended on. She really gets me high (Bam-a-lam) You know that's no lie (Bam-a-lam) I couldn’t keep up with her, she twirled out of my grasp and danced, whipping her head, thrashing her arms, pounding her feet on the aged floor. Her hips flowed like fluid, all while keeping hold of her shiny beer can, goddamn! This was beauty. I let her go, she danced around me like I was a Christmas tree. She was a package opening, she was a song you knew all the words to, she was a smile and that’s the best analogy I can come up with for this girl. The song was over; she crashed into me, dragging me off the floor and out through the bar. ”What about Andrea?” ”My cars outside, I followed her here.” Shit, there went my fantasies of her and Andrea getting it on in the car before they got here. We collided into the door to the outside with Andrea yelling over two handfuls of heads, “Hey, be careful you guys!” interrupting the conversation she was having with some jock from high school. We jigged the knob and flew out into the frosty air, both taking in life-size breaths. It was snowing. The walkway was icy, we were sliding, trying to hold each other or ourselves up, I’m not sure which. A scream slipped from her lips, alongside laughter as she fell into the few inches of snow that covered everything while we were inside, teasing, drinking and cutting the weigh off our shoulders. She pulled me down with her. We hit the ground in thuds and laughter, giving in to the coldness on our backs, the calming of the snow that tickled our faces with each dive. It formed small beads of damp around our features. The sky was still, like the war had just ended, like strife wasn’t what life was all about. I leaned over to brush the moisture across her lips, successful in making them look like a slick track for the events that I tried hard to suppress at that moment. It didn’t help that she took my finger into her mouth and swirled it around for a second and then let it slither from her damp lips like a wet noodle. ”I had a good time tonight, I needed it,” she said looking directly into my eyes, I didn’t waver, “it was nice to be out of the danger of the grisly small talk or anything extremely academic, I’m so sick of it all.” ”Well, it was nice to meet someone that has a sense of herself, really, I’m not joking, you may be sick of all the self-selves you are around all the time, but tonight, for me, you were a refreshment at a construction site, so thanks.” She leaned in to kiss me. I kissed her back, long and hard, rolling around on the snowy ground, not realizing that we were on the brink of the small hill when we tumbled. We rolled as one, her weight against me and then mine against hers, her, me, her, and me. We filled the valley behind the bar with our laughter as we came to a stop and then we kissed a little more between smiles. We were both covered in snow, it emphasized her dark features, it was perfect balance two inches from my nose. ”We should probably go, I wouldn’t mind staying here with you for the rest of the night but I don’t think we’d make it.” ”Well, I could drive back to Andrea’s parents’ house,” her voiced trailed, “or…” I knew what she wanted, I didn’t want to fuck it up though. ”Well, if you want you can sleep at my house, I have a fold-out couch and you can sleep in my bed.” “Okay.” We slowly rose to brush ourselves off and trudged up the hill to my shitty truck. ”Don’t mind the mess,” I said thinking of all the food wrappers and soda cans that crowded the floor from my commute to work. “It’s cool, as long as you drive me back here tomorrow to get my car.” ”No problem.” ”Okay, I have to get a few things from there.” I drove cautiously because of the conditions, having more than one too many and because I didn’t want to hurt the beautiful creature beside me. She had her head on my shoulder the whole way to my place, it jerked every time my arm moved to change gears. I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex, shut off the truck and it’s headlights. I thought maybe she was passed out because her head rested there for a little while. I moved a little to access the situation, she looked up at me, smiled and then started to gather up her things as I got out to go over to her side to open her door and offer a hand. ”Well, aren’t you sweet?” She handed me her purse. “Oh don’t you look gorgeous,” she stated with a giggle. ”I don’t mind, it actually makes me feel…“ and I started strutting myself down the sidewalk like a drag queen, almost falling on my ass. ”That’ll learn ya,” she chuckled. She followed me down the sidewalk, I turned around from time to time, to check on her or maybe I was just making sure I wasn’t dreaming all of it up in a drunken stupor. We entered my building and made it to the door. ”Do you live alone?” “No,” I paused, “I have a cat, Boo, she can be an icy bitch until she warms up to you, just to warn you.” “Awe, I’ve been hounding my roommate to get a kitty, she wants nothing to do with the idea.” ”That’s too bad,” as I turned the key and pushed open the door, “just remember I wasn’t expecting company and can tally up a few stereotypes the usual… bachelor owns.” I paused before I used the word because it’s been done to death, but thought I didn’t really care because I felt so damn comfortable with this girl and decided it was the best way to be at that point. *** We stood in front of my mirrored closet, side-by-side, for what seemed like hours. Fixed. Taking in each other’s bare bodies. There was no talk, no touch, just eyes hypnotized by beauty. She placed her head on my arm, took hold of my left hand with her right, gently squeezing it and then traced my forearm with the tips of her fingers on her left, sending shock waves all through my body. She set off all my alarms, she looked incredible, her long black hair brushing against her breasts with every breath. I looked down at her and said, “I just don’t want you to feel fucked afterwards.” ”I won’t feel fucked,” she said, struggling to break away from our reflection to look up at me, “as long as you won’t.” |
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| Sept. 2006 |
| 67 |