Three years later..... I know.... I am ashamed... if you missed Pt. 1 check it out here!
Jason was stunned when the waitress uttered those piercing words. He instantly felt light headed as the wave of confusion washed over him. It was physically impossible for her answer to be true! Jason had been driving for just over an hour when he came to the town. To get from South Carolina to Maine in under an hour, when he was driving south, is impossible! Isn't it?
He asked the waitress to repeat herself one more time. And she said, "For the third time, you are in Belfast, Maine, just off Hwy 1." She then followed up with, "Where are you supposed to be goin'?" Jason considered his answer for a much longer time than needed. He replied with "This morning I left Columbia, South Carolina, heading south, towards Hilton Head Island." The waitress then gave him the most perplexed look and said "You are more confused than a male ladybug" And she was right.
Jason then followed up with, "What time is it?" It was 12:30 pm.
Jason left the diner.
Upon exiting the diner, he saw a bustling town full of working men and women dressed in the prettiest dresses. He recognized the styles from movies about JFK and MLK. It felt like he had just stepped into a production of Hairspray. People began to notice him and he quickly became uncomfortable in his shorts, t-shirt, flip-flop combination. Jason decided he would walk around and figure out more about where he was. As he looked down main street he saw two very large silos, one labeled "MAPLEWOOD" and the other "PENOBSCOT". He noticed sea gulls flying above and that's when he noticed the familiar scent of sea air. As he rounded the corner of the block, he could see he was at the center of town. Looking to his right, he saw a quaint residential section just outside the edge of town, to his left he saw a small first baptist church, and further down main street he saw what seemed like an old sea port. He decided to walk towards the port, passing under a banner that read "BROILER FESTIVAL THIS WEEKEND!"
As Jason approached the water, he began to hear sounds of excitement and smell amazing aromatics of fried foods and farm animals all mixed into one. At the corner of Main St. and Front St., Jason saw nothing but festival from the right in a small waterfront park to the left in a pedestrian harbor walk area. There were kids running about with balloons and cotton candy, teens leaning up on the side of a building smoking cigarettes, and cheers from the announcement of this years "Broiler Queen" heard billowing from the park. Also on this corner was a newspaper box labeled REPUBLICAN JOURNAL. Inside, the first page of the paper was dated "Saturday, August 9, 1952".
1952!!!! Jason was again dizzy with confusion. He found a bench to sit down on and absorb what he had just read. He asked a man passing by if this newspaper showed the correct date. The man simply nodded and kept moving, quicker than before. Jason pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and saw that it still was unable to find a tower. He thought to himself "Of course, cell towers haven't been invented yet!" Jason decided to enter the festival to see if someone there might be able to explain somethings to him.
As Jason entered the park, he saw the Broiler Queen being handed flowers and hugged and congratulated just off a small stage on the far end. As he surveyed the many tents in the garden, he saw one that seemed to be avoided by everyone in attendance. The banner above the tent read "FORTUNE TELLER" in large mystic looking letters. Jason thought, "Aww, what the hell!" and made a direct path to the tent. As he pulled back the curtain to walk in, this large old lady instantly looked up at him and said "Hello Jason".
Stay tuned for Pt. 3.....
Tuesday, May 3, 2016
Monday, August 12, 2013
Reality Vs. Supernatural Pt. 1
It was a sunny day, rare that summer, pretty much everywhere had flooded. It seemed like a perfect time to travel. Spending the entirety of spring indoors makes one a little stir crazy, it was beyond time to leave. So that's just what he did. Jason liked to go visit his parents beach house as often as possible, it was a days drive away but well worth it to relax.
The main route was interstate, but as most places in the south, the back roads offer more to look at. That's the route Jason preferred, the small towns, the farms, the slower speed limits, it only added to the relaxation of the trip. He was about half way there when he saw thick storm clouds in the distance. It was expected with the amount of rain that has been happening lately. However, this could be bad considering this area was still saturated from the unusually wet spring. Jason pulled off the road and pulled out his phone to check the weather. Sure enough, he was headed right into the heart of a severe storm dumping 3 inches of rain per hour. He began to wonder if he should just sit and wait it out or push through and hope for the best.
Jason decided to push through. He began to continue heading south, into the heart of the storm. It began to lightly rain no more than five minutes after he returned to the road. The rain quickly began to cover the surrounding earth. Nerves began to over come Jason as he slowed his compact car to a mere five miles per hour. He could hardly see the road in front of him, yet he knew not to stop. If he pulled off onto the shoulder now, one of the many transfer trucks traveling that route could flatten him, so he pressed on.
The rain seemed to have no end and when Jason's phone lost its data connection, as well as its GPS capabilities, the nerves began to rise into panic. Jason knew he was going to be turning off the road he has been on for the majority of the trip soon, but was unsure exactly where, all the landmarks he knew where hidden by a curtain of rain. He decided to just keep driving until he could re-obtain the GPS capabilities and adjust his course then.
Just as quickly as the storm had arisen, was it gone. As Jason emerged from the storm the sun seemed to be brighter than ever before. Jason was in a town that he had never seen before. He didn't see any people, animals, bugs, nothing. The buildings were no taller than three stories and created a grid type town that seemed to once be a thriving southern town in its hay day. He pulled off into a small parking lot and found his phone trying to locate a service tower, without much luck. Jason turned it off and back on again to see if maybe it had locked up during the storm. Still no luck.
Jason thought he could look around while he was there, see if there was anyone in the area that could help him get back on the right course. But he couldn't. There seemed to be no one in the whole town. The town was very well kept however, the grass was mowed, building clean, bushes pruned, like the area never changes. Finding a corner diner, Jason went in. No one. The diner was empty, but there were pies in the bakery case and tickets hanging in the window. He wondered into the back and saw recipes on the wall and ingredients in the refrigerator. He had grown a hunger and decided to quickly whip up a burger.
Jason decided to have some fun with it and put on an apron and began to act like a fry cook. After the burger was done and plated with a heaping serving of fries, he rang the bell and called out "Order UP!" What happened next made Jason yell out a small scream of terror as the restaurant was instantly filled with people that were all looking at him as they ate.
Jason looked back at the grill and saw a large black man standing there with his arms folded asking him "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jason apologized and handed him back the apron. He began to leave the restaurant as a waitress ran up to him and asked if he was at least going to eat the food he cooked. Jason had already forgotten about that and decided he might as well. The waitress brought him a glass of fresh made sweet tea as he asked how long everyone had been there. She answered with "Longer than you darlin'." Jason ate his burger and fries and drank more sweet tea than he had ever intended. As he went to pay, he asked the waitress where he was and how to get out of there, The answer he got was not quite what he expected.
The main route was interstate, but as most places in the south, the back roads offer more to look at. That's the route Jason preferred, the small towns, the farms, the slower speed limits, it only added to the relaxation of the trip. He was about half way there when he saw thick storm clouds in the distance. It was expected with the amount of rain that has been happening lately. However, this could be bad considering this area was still saturated from the unusually wet spring. Jason pulled off the road and pulled out his phone to check the weather. Sure enough, he was headed right into the heart of a severe storm dumping 3 inches of rain per hour. He began to wonder if he should just sit and wait it out or push through and hope for the best.
Jason decided to push through. He began to continue heading south, into the heart of the storm. It began to lightly rain no more than five minutes after he returned to the road. The rain quickly began to cover the surrounding earth. Nerves began to over come Jason as he slowed his compact car to a mere five miles per hour. He could hardly see the road in front of him, yet he knew not to stop. If he pulled off onto the shoulder now, one of the many transfer trucks traveling that route could flatten him, so he pressed on.
The rain seemed to have no end and when Jason's phone lost its data connection, as well as its GPS capabilities, the nerves began to rise into panic. Jason knew he was going to be turning off the road he has been on for the majority of the trip soon, but was unsure exactly where, all the landmarks he knew where hidden by a curtain of rain. He decided to just keep driving until he could re-obtain the GPS capabilities and adjust his course then.
Just as quickly as the storm had arisen, was it gone. As Jason emerged from the storm the sun seemed to be brighter than ever before. Jason was in a town that he had never seen before. He didn't see any people, animals, bugs, nothing. The buildings were no taller than three stories and created a grid type town that seemed to once be a thriving southern town in its hay day. He pulled off into a small parking lot and found his phone trying to locate a service tower, without much luck. Jason turned it off and back on again to see if maybe it had locked up during the storm. Still no luck.
Jason thought he could look around while he was there, see if there was anyone in the area that could help him get back on the right course. But he couldn't. There seemed to be no one in the whole town. The town was very well kept however, the grass was mowed, building clean, bushes pruned, like the area never changes. Finding a corner diner, Jason went in. No one. The diner was empty, but there were pies in the bakery case and tickets hanging in the window. He wondered into the back and saw recipes on the wall and ingredients in the refrigerator. He had grown a hunger and decided to quickly whip up a burger.
Jason decided to have some fun with it and put on an apron and began to act like a fry cook. After the burger was done and plated with a heaping serving of fries, he rang the bell and called out "Order UP!" What happened next made Jason yell out a small scream of terror as the restaurant was instantly filled with people that were all looking at him as they ate.
Jason looked back at the grill and saw a large black man standing there with his arms folded asking him "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jason apologized and handed him back the apron. He began to leave the restaurant as a waitress ran up to him and asked if he was at least going to eat the food he cooked. Jason had already forgotten about that and decided he might as well. The waitress brought him a glass of fresh made sweet tea as he asked how long everyone had been there. She answered with "Longer than you darlin'." Jason ate his burger and fries and drank more sweet tea than he had ever intended. As he went to pay, he asked the waitress where he was and how to get out of there, The answer he got was not quite what he expected.
Tuesday, July 2, 2013
The Dog
She always loved that damn dog. Seemed to love it more than me sometimes. I can't complain, she gave me three kids, a girl and two boys. It makes since for me to give her a dog. I let her choose. It took about three months to find the perfect one. We would have gotten a mutt from the pound had it been my choice. But it was hers.
Jess has always loved the finer things in life, she has a set of plates that we only use at Christmas, but they sit in that cabinet in the dining room all year long. We look at them every night from the dinner table, like art at a French museum. It doesn't matter to me though, its a woman thing, I guess. Just like the dog she got. A West Highland White Terrier, a "Westie" as she called it. Percy. That's what she named it. Yappy or Nippy would have been a better suiting name for the quote un-quote dog. He couldn't even fetch a stick properly, always getting distracted by a bug or a blowing leaf.
It did well for her. I traveled a lot for work, D.C., New York, Miami; it gave her company. It was a compromise really. She didn't like me traveling, I didn't like her complaining. It was nice when I was home though. We lived in a quiet town, Beverly Shores, IN. Close enough to Chicago for good jobs, far enough away to avoid the gangster crimes of the sixties. Our lake house was simple, ranch style. One of those new houses that was partially built in a factory, pre-fabricated is what they called it. My father wouldn't have approved, then again he would have wanted to built it himself.
It was Cooper and Jones, the firm that I worked for, that suggested I traveled less and focused on my family life. Ever since the third child, they didn't seem to care with the first two. I tell them the maid is enough help and I am fine traveling. In reality, my wife says the same thing. I could never do it though, travel less, be a family man. Its not me. I never saw myself settling down, having a family, a ranch style home, a dog much less. It's not me.
The last time I went to New York City I met with some of our Japanese clients. They were fun. Told me of clubs in Tokyo where girls would dance completely nude and painted. It sounded beautiful. Strange. But beautiful. That was when they asked me, to take them there. Take them to the one place in the country that girls danced, on stage. I was hesitant at first, unsure that it would be proper. My Catholic roots were ingrained deep within. However, I had to make a good impression, so we went.
The outside was dank, dreary. The windows were boarded up and there was only one small door. We tried to open it but it was locked, I rang the doorbell. Within seconds a five-hundred pound man was there, practically on top of me, asking for our names. I told him mine, I told him I was entertaining some foreign clients that wanted to see the inside. He looked us over and let us in, I led, reluctantly.
The first hall was dark, there was a single red light to lead the way. Once we got into the main room it was amazing! The most beautiful thing I had seen. The lights were brightly colored and there were comfortable couches all over. Then I saw them, the women. They were wearing next to nothing! This was only the second time I had ever seen a woman dressed in nothing but her un-mentionables, the first was my wife. We got a table in the corner, I guess I was trying to hide. I ordered my usual scotch while the Tokyo elites ordered a bottle of champagne. I didn't much care for champagne but man did they drink it up! They completely laughed off my note of caution for the fact that we had an eight A.M. meeting the next day!
We had a blast. We drank, we watched, we laughed. It was some of the most fun I had ever had in my adult life. I forgot about the worries of home. The kids not doing well in school. The dog chewing the soles of my favorite house shoes. The wife complaining about me not being there. It was nice. But it was fake. The whole night seemed fake, like it never happened. The morning after was rough. I woke up running to the bathroom to dispose of the night before. It was 7:30. I had thirty minutes. I knew if I felt like this the Japanese were even worse, they drank twice as much as me!
I arrived with five minutes to go, just enough time to set up! Or so I thought. I walked into the board room and saw all five of my previous nights companions sitting there, waiting. They all seemed so alert, happy, well rested. It was confusing. I apologized for making them wait and set up quickly. I had to present them with their possible earning quotas if they decided to partner with Cooper and Jones. They never thought of expanding into the states, until now. Amazingly, I convinced them! They decided in the first five minutes of me talking. It was amazing!
When I got back to the office in Chicago, Dick Cooper was waiting for me in my office. He told me congratulations and said how proud the company was of me. He promoted me on the spot to accounts manager. A non-traveling position. My wife will be thrilled.
I was given the rest of the day off while June, my secretary, moved my stuff into my new office. I went home to an empty house, other than Percy, that is. I chained the yappy thing outside and poured myself a scotch, perfect mid day snack, I thought. Jess got home an hour later, surprised to see me home she asked if everything was OK. Her face when I told her about the promotion was almost more excited than when I asked for her hand in marriage! She was especially happy that I wouldn't be traveling as much.
She let the dog back in. It jumped onto my lap. When it looked into my eyes, I saw it. The reason Jess loved this dog so much. Even though I hated the dog for the mere idea of what it represented, he still loved me. That was the first time I ever felt comfortable with my family. I realized that, while I had fun at the dance club, I was beyond all the show and pomp of my younger years. I realized that it was time to love my family and work on them. It was then that I appreciated the things around me for the first time. All thanks to the simple look given to me by that damn dog.
Jess has always loved the finer things in life, she has a set of plates that we only use at Christmas, but they sit in that cabinet in the dining room all year long. We look at them every night from the dinner table, like art at a French museum. It doesn't matter to me though, its a woman thing, I guess. Just like the dog she got. A West Highland White Terrier, a "Westie" as she called it. Percy. That's what she named it. Yappy or Nippy would have been a better suiting name for the quote un-quote dog. He couldn't even fetch a stick properly, always getting distracted by a bug or a blowing leaf.
It did well for her. I traveled a lot for work, D.C., New York, Miami; it gave her company. It was a compromise really. She didn't like me traveling, I didn't like her complaining. It was nice when I was home though. We lived in a quiet town, Beverly Shores, IN. Close enough to Chicago for good jobs, far enough away to avoid the gangster crimes of the sixties. Our lake house was simple, ranch style. One of those new houses that was partially built in a factory, pre-fabricated is what they called it. My father wouldn't have approved, then again he would have wanted to built it himself.
It was Cooper and Jones, the firm that I worked for, that suggested I traveled less and focused on my family life. Ever since the third child, they didn't seem to care with the first two. I tell them the maid is enough help and I am fine traveling. In reality, my wife says the same thing. I could never do it though, travel less, be a family man. Its not me. I never saw myself settling down, having a family, a ranch style home, a dog much less. It's not me.
The last time I went to New York City I met with some of our Japanese clients. They were fun. Told me of clubs in Tokyo where girls would dance completely nude and painted. It sounded beautiful. Strange. But beautiful. That was when they asked me, to take them there. Take them to the one place in the country that girls danced, on stage. I was hesitant at first, unsure that it would be proper. My Catholic roots were ingrained deep within. However, I had to make a good impression, so we went.
The outside was dank, dreary. The windows were boarded up and there was only one small door. We tried to open it but it was locked, I rang the doorbell. Within seconds a five-hundred pound man was there, practically on top of me, asking for our names. I told him mine, I told him I was entertaining some foreign clients that wanted to see the inside. He looked us over and let us in, I led, reluctantly.
The first hall was dark, there was a single red light to lead the way. Once we got into the main room it was amazing! The most beautiful thing I had seen. The lights were brightly colored and there were comfortable couches all over. Then I saw them, the women. They were wearing next to nothing! This was only the second time I had ever seen a woman dressed in nothing but her un-mentionables, the first was my wife. We got a table in the corner, I guess I was trying to hide. I ordered my usual scotch while the Tokyo elites ordered a bottle of champagne. I didn't much care for champagne but man did they drink it up! They completely laughed off my note of caution for the fact that we had an eight A.M. meeting the next day!
We had a blast. We drank, we watched, we laughed. It was some of the most fun I had ever had in my adult life. I forgot about the worries of home. The kids not doing well in school. The dog chewing the soles of my favorite house shoes. The wife complaining about me not being there. It was nice. But it was fake. The whole night seemed fake, like it never happened. The morning after was rough. I woke up running to the bathroom to dispose of the night before. It was 7:30. I had thirty minutes. I knew if I felt like this the Japanese were even worse, they drank twice as much as me!
I arrived with five minutes to go, just enough time to set up! Or so I thought. I walked into the board room and saw all five of my previous nights companions sitting there, waiting. They all seemed so alert, happy, well rested. It was confusing. I apologized for making them wait and set up quickly. I had to present them with their possible earning quotas if they decided to partner with Cooper and Jones. They never thought of expanding into the states, until now. Amazingly, I convinced them! They decided in the first five minutes of me talking. It was amazing!
When I got back to the office in Chicago, Dick Cooper was waiting for me in my office. He told me congratulations and said how proud the company was of me. He promoted me on the spot to accounts manager. A non-traveling position. My wife will be thrilled.
I was given the rest of the day off while June, my secretary, moved my stuff into my new office. I went home to an empty house, other than Percy, that is. I chained the yappy thing outside and poured myself a scotch, perfect mid day snack, I thought. Jess got home an hour later, surprised to see me home she asked if everything was OK. Her face when I told her about the promotion was almost more excited than when I asked for her hand in marriage! She was especially happy that I wouldn't be traveling as much.
She let the dog back in. It jumped onto my lap. When it looked into my eyes, I saw it. The reason Jess loved this dog so much. Even though I hated the dog for the mere idea of what it represented, he still loved me. That was the first time I ever felt comfortable with my family. I realized that, while I had fun at the dance club, I was beyond all the show and pomp of my younger years. I realized that it was time to love my family and work on them. It was then that I appreciated the things around me for the first time. All thanks to the simple look given to me by that damn dog.
Friday, June 28, 2013
One
One
What a word. It can be described as lonely, lovely, dreary, and peaceful. Just a single word. Such a relatively meaningless word. Until I applied it to him.
The One
Just adding three letters makes the meaning so much clearer. THE one. The weight of that is crushing. The idea of that is bewildering. The concept is foreign. How could I, me, love someone so much to give up everything? To give up pleasure, riches, fame. How?
To start, my name is Steven. I live in Greenville, SC. I love it here! I don't have any family here, but they're close. Driving distance. My friends are my true family anyways, they've always understood me better. I'm an accounts executive for a law firm here. That basically means I file cases into cabinets and make sure depositions are typed up properly. It pays the bills. It was actually through my work that I met him. Jacob. He came in one day, as opposing counsel, wearing a brand new Armani suit. It was custom tailored. He decided to pair his stark white shirt and deep ebony suit with a sort of robins egg blue bow tie. That's how I knew he was gay, the bow tie. It was a tie the not for marriage day where the supporters of marriage equality wore bow ties to show their support. It's weird to even think of a time when gays couldn't marry. It was a different time. There was more hatred in the world, less utopia and more pain and struggle. However; as soon as our eyes met, I knew he was different.
I had never had a "boyfriend". At least not for more than a night. The lgbt community in Greenville wasn't very, well, responsible. And I was the same. We partied all weekend and slept around all week. I probably shouldn't have even rented an apartment, not worth the one maybe two nights a month I spent there.
I'd never seen Jacob before. That day he came into the office seems like the day he first stepped foot on this earth. He seemed to know where he was and what he was doing and it took me by surprise. I couldn't even give him the proper greeting to new visitors, "Hi, welcome to Fisk and Sons. How may we assist you today?" I just looked at him and watched him pass by. Not a word. Not a sound. Not even a breath. He was in the office with Oliver, the owners son, for about three hours. It had been so long I thought he had left and I missed him. It was almost five, almost happy hour, when he made me scream.
I was still a law student, well I wasn't in school, I just hadn't passed the bar exam yet. So I was doing the administrative work until I could pass, something I would never actually do. The day I met Jacob my work load was light, uncommonly so. I decided I could get a little studying done at my desk and no one would be the wiser, until I dozed off. Coming in from a late night mixed with boring legal terms and cases of the past I was overcome by the "Sand Man" and fell asleep at my desk. I was suddenly awakened to Jacob, well Mr. Feinstein at the time; he was standing at my desk with a perplexed look on his face, confused as to why I was asleep I'm sure. I quickly apologized and asked if there was anything I could do for him. That was when he asked the question that I never expected to hear.
"Yeah, I'm new to the area and have no clue what to do for dinner! All these stiffs here have wives and families to go home to but I see you're not married." He said pointing to my now shaking left hand. "How would you like to take me to your favorite restaurant? My treat!"
I was dumbfounded. I had no clue how to answer. I just stared at him and all I could mutter was a shaky, "O.K." He giggled as I fumbled around to pack up all my books and work folders, dropping them on the floor more than once. After what felt like a lifetime of fumbling, I finally gathered all my things and we headed out the door. He couldn't stop laughing at my fumbling show the whole way to the restaurant.
I couldn't stop blushing.
Gregory's. My favorite restaurant. I hadn't been in a few months, since the last time I failed the bar exam. It always seemed to bring me comfort, no matter the situation, and this time was no different. As soon as we walked in the door of the Main St. restaurant, all my worries were gone. Gregory's is a small street side Italian cafe. It can't handle more than fifty patrons at a time, but it usually has a line hanging down the block. But today we walked right in and sat right down, perfect timing I guess. I quickly realized that other than the sheepish "O.K." I haven't said a single thing. So I meagerly asked, "So, Mr. Feinstein, how long have you been practicing law?" Eww. Not the question I wanted to ask, but it was all I could get out.
He chuckled "Jacob. Call me Jacob."
My heart stopped, it was quickly becoming clear this was not a business dinner where we would discuss matters of the firm or a time for me to get tips on how to pass the bar or anything like that.
This was a date.
I couldn't remember the last date I went on with a guy that made my heart flutter. It was nice. It was frightening. The night was going well and I was surprised when the second bottle of wine arrived, "Where did the first bottle go!?!" I exclaimed. Jacob laughed, "We've been here for an hour, its normal to drink a bottle in that time."
An hour! Wow! That hour felt like ten minutes max. But he was right, the sun had fully dipped below the buildings across the street and the infamous line had began to wrap itself down the block. I was enjoying myself. It was easy. I was comfortable. He made me comfortable.
He made me comfortable.
I was comfortable with him? I had never been comfortable on a first date before. But this seemed natural, it seemed right.
After dinner we ambled lazily through the shops of Downtown. We peered into shop windows and discovered things I never knew existed in the small city. It was great!
By the time we arrived at my car it was nine o'clock. We had been out for over four hours. I was amazed. But this was the time I was worried about. The potential goodbye. Was it goodbye? Should we go back to one of our places? My roommate was out of town so we could have the whole apartment. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. He said he would see me tomorrow. And he opened my door.
I was flabbergasted.
He opened my car door. He gave me a gentle peck. He was a gentleman. He was obviously not from Greenville.
We continued to see each other. Everyday actually. It was weird. I had never actually looked forward to seeing someone the way I did for him. If he ever came in the office I would immediately stop whatever I was doing to greet him. It was like this for three months.
After the first three months he asked me a question that confused me. He asked me to date him. I had never dated before. I didn't think I knew how. But I knew he was special.
I said yes.
We became exclusive. Just the two of us. It was magical really, we would do everything together. We even got a dog. A pug. We named him Larry. It was only getting better.
One year passed and we made the decision to move in together. It was shortly after I decided to stop trying to pass the bar. I felt like it was a worthless fight after taking the exam four times. It was fine, my life didn't need it anymore like I thought it did. We found a house just outside of downtown in the NOMA district. It was an up and coming district north of Main St. that had houses built in the forties and fifties. We found a cute bungalow style home that had just entered foreclosure so we got it at a steal! We decided to make it our project to fix it up.
The first night in our new home with our new lives together is when Jacob collapsed the first time. I was in the backyard figuring out a layout for my herb garden, all I heard was a thud. I thought he had dropped a box or something. When I went in to check, he was on the floor, pulse weak, short breaths. I panicked. Called an ambulance and rode to the emergency room with him.
During that time the laws were against us because we were homosexual. I wasn't allowed to go into exam rooms with him. I had limited visitation times with him. I couldn't even ask the doctors what was wrong. I was completely in the dark, powerless, alone.
It was while I was sitting in that cold waiting room on the first floor of the ICU wing that I began to think, "What if he's not O.K. What if he's dying?" It was then that I started to realize I was in love.
Love.
Tears began to stream down my face as I thought of life without him. As I sat there thinking back to the times we spent together. How we met, how he asked me out, how we had began to plan our lives together. I felt broken.
He is my one. THE one. It was a rush to feel that. To know that. As I was realizing it and beginning to need him to be O.K. even more, I heard a lady at the desk say his name, "Jacob Feinstein" I looked up. It was a familiar face, one I had only seen in photographs. It was his mother. The mother that sat idly by as his father told him to leave and never come back. She looked kind, simple, tired. I stood up. The nurse knew who I was and looked at me as she talked to his mom. I slowly approached.
"Mrs. Feinstein?" I quivered. "Are you Jacobs mother?"
She slowly turned her head. Her eyes were as blue as the Caribbean Sea. Her skin seemed soft with gentle folds in the corners of her eyes and worry lines in her forehead. Her hair was long and straight, a simple style that fell down below her shoulders. She was beautiful. She was frightened.
I told her my name. I said "I'm Jacobs boy.... uh ... roommate. They won't let me in to see him."
She grabbed my hand and said, "Come with me, we will go together." Her hand was gentle, it felt kind with a slight tremor.
"Yeah, I'm new to the area and have no clue what to do for dinner! All these stiffs here have wives and families to go home to but I see you're not married." He said pointing to my now shaking left hand. "How would you like to take me to your favorite restaurant? My treat!"
I was dumbfounded. I had no clue how to answer. I just stared at him and all I could mutter was a shaky, "O.K." He giggled as I fumbled around to pack up all my books and work folders, dropping them on the floor more than once. After what felt like a lifetime of fumbling, I finally gathered all my things and we headed out the door. He couldn't stop laughing at my fumbling show the whole way to the restaurant.
I couldn't stop blushing.
Gregory's. My favorite restaurant. I hadn't been in a few months, since the last time I failed the bar exam. It always seemed to bring me comfort, no matter the situation, and this time was no different. As soon as we walked in the door of the Main St. restaurant, all my worries were gone. Gregory's is a small street side Italian cafe. It can't handle more than fifty patrons at a time, but it usually has a line hanging down the block. But today we walked right in and sat right down, perfect timing I guess. I quickly realized that other than the sheepish "O.K." I haven't said a single thing. So I meagerly asked, "So, Mr. Feinstein, how long have you been practicing law?" Eww. Not the question I wanted to ask, but it was all I could get out.
He chuckled "Jacob. Call me Jacob."
My heart stopped, it was quickly becoming clear this was not a business dinner where we would discuss matters of the firm or a time for me to get tips on how to pass the bar or anything like that.
This was a date.
I couldn't remember the last date I went on with a guy that made my heart flutter. It was nice. It was frightening. The night was going well and I was surprised when the second bottle of wine arrived, "Where did the first bottle go!?!" I exclaimed. Jacob laughed, "We've been here for an hour, its normal to drink a bottle in that time."
An hour! Wow! That hour felt like ten minutes max. But he was right, the sun had fully dipped below the buildings across the street and the infamous line had began to wrap itself down the block. I was enjoying myself. It was easy. I was comfortable. He made me comfortable.
He made me comfortable.
I was comfortable with him? I had never been comfortable on a first date before. But this seemed natural, it seemed right.
After dinner we ambled lazily through the shops of Downtown. We peered into shop windows and discovered things I never knew existed in the small city. It was great!
By the time we arrived at my car it was nine o'clock. We had been out for over four hours. I was amazed. But this was the time I was worried about. The potential goodbye. Was it goodbye? Should we go back to one of our places? My roommate was out of town so we could have the whole apartment. He leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. He said he would see me tomorrow. And he opened my door.
I was flabbergasted.
He opened my car door. He gave me a gentle peck. He was a gentleman. He was obviously not from Greenville.
We continued to see each other. Everyday actually. It was weird. I had never actually looked forward to seeing someone the way I did for him. If he ever came in the office I would immediately stop whatever I was doing to greet him. It was like this for three months.
After the first three months he asked me a question that confused me. He asked me to date him. I had never dated before. I didn't think I knew how. But I knew he was special.
I said yes.
We became exclusive. Just the two of us. It was magical really, we would do everything together. We even got a dog. A pug. We named him Larry. It was only getting better.
One year passed and we made the decision to move in together. It was shortly after I decided to stop trying to pass the bar. I felt like it was a worthless fight after taking the exam four times. It was fine, my life didn't need it anymore like I thought it did. We found a house just outside of downtown in the NOMA district. It was an up and coming district north of Main St. that had houses built in the forties and fifties. We found a cute bungalow style home that had just entered foreclosure so we got it at a steal! We decided to make it our project to fix it up.
The first night in our new home with our new lives together is when Jacob collapsed the first time. I was in the backyard figuring out a layout for my herb garden, all I heard was a thud. I thought he had dropped a box or something. When I went in to check, he was on the floor, pulse weak, short breaths. I panicked. Called an ambulance and rode to the emergency room with him.
During that time the laws were against us because we were homosexual. I wasn't allowed to go into exam rooms with him. I had limited visitation times with him. I couldn't even ask the doctors what was wrong. I was completely in the dark, powerless, alone.
It was while I was sitting in that cold waiting room on the first floor of the ICU wing that I began to think, "What if he's not O.K. What if he's dying?" It was then that I started to realize I was in love.
Love.
Tears began to stream down my face as I thought of life without him. As I sat there thinking back to the times we spent together. How we met, how he asked me out, how we had began to plan our lives together. I felt broken.
He is my one. THE one. It was a rush to feel that. To know that. As I was realizing it and beginning to need him to be O.K. even more, I heard a lady at the desk say his name, "Jacob Feinstein" I looked up. It was a familiar face, one I had only seen in photographs. It was his mother. The mother that sat idly by as his father told him to leave and never come back. She looked kind, simple, tired. I stood up. The nurse knew who I was and looked at me as she talked to his mom. I slowly approached.
"Mrs. Feinstein?" I quivered. "Are you Jacobs mother?"
She slowly turned her head. Her eyes were as blue as the Caribbean Sea. Her skin seemed soft with gentle folds in the corners of her eyes and worry lines in her forehead. Her hair was long and straight, a simple style that fell down below her shoulders. She was beautiful. She was frightened.
I told her my name. I said "I'm Jacobs boy.... uh ... roommate. They won't let me in to see him."
She grabbed my hand and said, "Come with me, we will go together." Her hand was gentle, it felt kind with a slight tremor.
Walking into that room was horrifying. I knew I couldn't be crying when he saw me, but I couldn't help it. He was connected to so many machines, he looked part robot. His mother hadn't let go of my hand the whole time. I got comfort from that. The nurse said they had put him into a medical coma. They said he had a stroke. They said his chances were slim.
His chances were slim.
That hurt. Real bad. It took my breath away. His mom sat down, and I knelt beside her. We embraced and cried into each other. She asked me how long we had been together and I told her. That was when she uttered the scariest words ever, "It is your decision for where we go from here. He loves you and you love him. You know his wishes."
But I don't. We were young. We never discussed what to do if something like this happened. So I said, "We wait. He will get better."
He didn't. He had more strokes. The doctors said his brain was practically completely shut down. He was only alive because of the machines.
I couldn't breath.
I couldn't eat.
I couldn't sleep.
We took away Jacobs pain. We allowed him to fly.
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