Battery and Bedrooms

I'm watching another tragedy of life playin' out; it's not at a theatre, and it's far to goddamn near. He's standing over her like any powerful carnivore would, watching the fallen prey; taking a certain delight in its agony, as only a human can. She sobs quietly as he bellows at her from above; a petty, and unforgiving tin god in a patriarchal world. At length, he stalks away still blustering, she raises herself up, still shaking from the blast to her face by the back of his hand. Her swollen eyes cast downward, she brushes her hair angrily from her face; revealing the spreading bruise. She hates him... and loves every minute of it. He causes her to feel, never mind that the feelings are rage, self-pity and loathing. She believes in the indignity, the nightmarishness. At least she feels something, and it's been to long time since he touched her in any other way.

I couldn't help, no one can, in a few minutes the rattle and hum of the diner over-run her shame. I felt the ineffectiveness of adrenalin in my body and no use to make of it; so I left early and took a cross town...

Hopping off in the little gaggle of eclectic shops that ring the downtown district has always been a treat for me; no matter the city. Street musicians playing redundant tunes on old brass, or the beat up sitar, and a couple bad white drummers from the 'wanajbi' tribe playin' a djembe. Tourists riding in horse-drawn carriages and peddle cars. Outdoor cafe brimming like steaming chowder delivered to the eager little consumers in their summer togs. I walk into Carpani's, ordering a glass of white Zin to go. Wandering back outside, leaning against a light post, deciding which shop to start with, I spot this nice looking young woman.

She was heading into one of those New Agey, Mythos-steeped, incense & flute gagging slots in an otherwise indifferent wall. She was on the cross-town? I followed in for a closer look; New Age addictions are such fun to watch; and my curiosity was up about hers'. I stared at the books rack while she wandered around finally stopping in front of a display of crystals. Time to move.

As I sidle up along side her, "Rectangulite," I said, I'd waited a long time for the opportunity, and this pretty young lady looked to be just about right. "It has quite a history," I said. "Really..?, you know I've always been fascinated by crystals, and the stars too..., and what did you say it did," giggling, "...I mean, what's the power of the, uuh-hmm, what's it called again?" "Rectangulite... and you hadn't asked." She's giggling now as she realizes her prattle, "my friends say I talk to much, but really I think too much." She hazarded a quick glance directly into my eyes so I winked a reply. "I'll bet they're right," and for that I got a smile like a beam of light. "Allen," I said. "Oh... I'm Jean." Another tinkling giggle.

"Rectangulite... " she tapped her jaw lightly with one finger as her eyes wandered around on the ceiling; "nooo, I haven't heard of it." Straightening herself back around, and in a most acceptable tone she launched into that far to usual 'what does it do, and is this the only color it comes in' etc. ad nauseum routine. I was polite for a moment and listened but sometimes you just gotta hold em back before they hurt themselves. Looking her right in the eyes, "Stop, Jean, Please! I'll tell you." She seemed a bright girl, a bit ill-informed perhaps, nevertheless... this might be worth a shot.

"Well," I said, "it usually comes in the form of an elongated square; generally any color, and shape. Left-handed people should wear it on their right side, and right-handers on their left. It's most popular with the political crowd, useful also in the treatment of bipolar disorders, directional diseases, and by the way, what's your disorder Jean?" She looked at me with the oddest expression I'd ever seen, she looked at me and we both snickered. Then she got it; and folks, it was hoot-hoot and off to the races. She let off a couple really great guffaws about now, and patrons were looking, her blue eyes were moistening fast. Jean couldn't contain herself, she was roaring now, and the clerk was coming from behind the counter. I grabbed her and headed outside for some air. She leaned against the filthy wall till she finally calmed down. "You okay now?," ...she laughed another five minutes.

"That wasn't very nice, those people are friends of mine." "My apologies really, I meant no..." but she cut me off. "It's okay, I like to laugh, even if I do sound funny." Then it was my turn to laugh. So we started down the street chuckling to ourselves, and each other.

We walked all over downtown, finally stopping for dinner at this little spaghetti shop. I know the cook so the discount is worth the price of soggy spaghetti, and Jean didn't seem to mind. We talked through the meal and sipped some Zin, she ate like there was no tomorrow, but she wasn't heavy. In fact she looked pretty nice in her crinkly skirt and Celtic top. It seemed she was between jobs at the moment, a bad experience with an aggresive boss. "...and I went through all the proper channels too, and I'm the one they fired." "It's not fair Allen!" "I agree, I can't say I know how you feel buat, I agree." She gave me one of those pouty little girl looks that just melt me. A little too excitedly I said, "shall we go?" She smiled, drained the carafe, "yeh." Though she hung around the esoterically indifferent crowd, Jean was pretty god-damn sharp however, she was worried about her job prospects.

We resumed our walk as the sun cast a gold glow off the windows. "Ya know Allen," she said and paused to peek in the door of a music store, "Amber, that's a friend of mine that works here; she gave me a deck of Tarot cards for my birthday two weeks ago, well... last month anyway... and I didn't have the heart to tell her I thought it was really dumb to follow along with it, but... " I admit it's gettin' difficult for me follow along now, and about this time we walk around a corner where a breeze could send the scent of her patoulli oil perfume right up my nostrils. "...and do you know what she told me?" She stopped suddenly and turned toward me for what I knew was not an answer. I was struck dumb by how attractive she suddenly got, and I flushed a bit at the stiffness I was afraid she'd notice, "no." "She told me it might be a good idea... what do you think of that?" I had no idea what the hell she'd been talking about, so I pulled a clove outa' my pocket and stared at her breasts quite innocently while I lit up.

Raising one eyebrow in just proper manner, exhaling long and slow... "sometimes Jean, it's difficult for people to accept responsibility for their own lives; it's just simpler this way for them. Ya know, kind of scared of life." I raised both brows now for the final impact, gazed off in the distance with a pained abstract look and took another drag. Her hands dropped from her hips, and peripheral vision told me she was staring at me. 'Perfect,' I thought. Then she smiled, 'ooh baby what a smile,' I turned and winked at her.

Laughing, she took my hand... "That's reeaally good, I never thought of it that way, and you're probably right." I let her keep my hand and started walking again; she kept looking at me sort of amazed. The sun was about gone, and I just smiled thinkin' about the bedroom scene.

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