PDA

View Full Version : Rendezvous



starrwriter
12-16-2005, 05:52 PM
The late afternoon heat was stifling as I drove hurriedly along the west coast of Maui island toward Lahaina, a town whose name meant "cruel sun" in the Hawaiian language. Though I hadn't seen Allison in six months, I arrived twenty minutes late for our rendezvous at the tiny seaside park near an old hotel. She forgave me sweetly with a kiss. The tradewinds wafted like invisible curtains of cool silk and she spoke in a lilting voice, genuinely happy to see me, sure of herself at last. Immediately I fell into a strange fixation with the image of the sunset reflected magically in her hazel eyes. She tossed her head back and laughed when I made a clumsy joke, a strand of black hair tumbling over one side of that lovely face. She brushed it aside with slender delicate fingers I longed to hold. Mesmerized and only half listening to her words, I shifted my position ever so slightly until her eyes mirrored the palm trees on the beach, dark and swaying under a fiery orange sky. I was spellbound, utterly lost in her presence, crucified. But what a glorious resurrection I contemplated!

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Not really."

"Well, I'm famished."

I mentioned a nearby restaurant where we had often dined.

"I have a better idea," she said with a mischievous smile. "Why don't you follow me home and I'll cook supper? I want to show you my new place."

"You gave up your beautiful apartment?"

"For something much nicer," she hinted.

Putty in her hands, I agreed to her proposal without thinking. Allison left the top down on her convertible and we raced across the isthmus of the island, climbing through fields of sugarcane in the brooding twilight. Our destination turned out to be a two-story green house surrounded by eucalyptus trees at the end of a long driveway. Allison kicked off her shoes at the door and padded into the kitchen. The sight of a beautiful woman barefoot always left me breathless with anticipation. I followed her like a happy dog.

She poured me a glass of white wine. "How do you like it?" she asked.

I took a sip.

"Not the wine, silly. The house."

"Seems a bit large for one person."

"I have two roommates. Didn't I mention that?"

"Not that I recall. Where are they?"

"They come and go," she replied. "I never know when they'll be home."

"Living like a gypsy queen in a fairy tale," I said, quoting one of her favorite songs.

"You might say so," she smiled.

"I haven't told you yet how great you look."

"Must be the mountain air."

"I'm glad you didn't cut your hair."

"I changed my mind."

"Aren't you going to have some wine?" I asked.

"Not right now," she said. "Listen, would you be a sweetheart and take the chicken out of the freezer while I grab a quick shower? I feel absolutely grungy." As she sauntered down the hallway, she slipped out of her dress so gracefully my heart skipped a beat. "Help yourself to the wine," she called out before closing the bathroom door.

What an exquisite tease she was. After our long separation I wanted her feverishly and she knew it only too well. The whole misunderstanding had been my fault, of course - the man is usually to blame in such matters - but I was determined to make amends. I had already managed to convince myself that things would be entirely different this time around, hope being the universal drug of addiction. My mind swarmed with plans for the future.

After her shower Allison prepared a meal of thyme chicken, steamed brocolli and fried rice. We sat on high stools facing each other over the wet bar while she ate and I drank wine, my face cupped in my hands as I listened to her chatter between bites. It seems she had taken a new job in a dive shop of all places. With a silent laugh I pictured her playing mermaid to boatloads of sunburned tourists. I had always been amazed that such a shapely young woman could eat as much as she did without gaining weight, and I applauded her gusto when she finished her plate and went back to the stove for second helpings.

"You should eat something so you don't get a hangover," she suggested with a slightly annoyed look.

I wanted to say that a man in love has no appetite for food, that he would rather subsist on passion alone, but the words eluded me. I emptied the last of the wine into our two glasses and proposed a toast to old times. Allison stared at her glass, refusing to drink.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Nothing."

"Please tell me."

"It's just that I hoped you had changed."

I knew she meant reformed as in rehabilitated myself. "Allison, I want us to be together again."

"Why?"

"You know I love you." I leaned across the wet bar and kissed her.

At that point I heard the front door slam and distinctly male voices. Allison stood up as two young men tromped into the kitchen. One was tall and had a thick beard with shoulder-length hair. His companion was clean-shaven and had a stocky build. Both looked embarrassed when they saw me.

"Sorry, Allie," the tall man said. "Did we interrupt something?"

"This is my friend, Lee," she said.

The tall man introduced himself as Paul and said his friend was Jeremy. I shook hands with them mechanically.

"Paul works in the dive shop," Allison explained. "He found this house for us to rent."

"Nice place," I said, trying to smile.

"You do any diving?" Paul asked.

"I used to."

"You should see Allie working underwater," he said. "She's a female Jacques Cousteau."

"I'll bet."

Jeremy tugged nervously on Paul's shirtsleeve. "Let's give them some privacy."

"Right," Paul said. "Good to meet you, Lee."

After they left Allison took her plate to the sink. "Don't act so betrayed," she said. "I told you I had roommates."

"You forgot to mention they were men."

She spun around to face me. "We have separate bedrooms, in case you're interested."

"How convenient to be under one roof."

"I suppose you think I'm sleeping with one of them."

"My guess would be Paul."

"They're just friends, Lee. Not every man is sex crazed like you."

I was beginning to lose my temper. "If I remember correctly, you're rather fond of sex yourself. And I love how you're trying to turn this around and make it seem like it's my fault that you're living with two young studs."

"I wouldn't be here if you could have kept your hands off of Brenda," she said.

"I haven't seen Brenda in two months."

"That must be a new record for you."

"She moved to Honolulu."

Allison cast a frosty glance in my direction. "I wondered why you were so thrilled to see me."

"You called me, I didn't call you. And I stopped seeing Brenda before she moved."

"I wish I could believe you."

All at once I felt miserably defeated. "You brought me up here to rub my face in the fact that you've found a new boyfriend."

"That's not true."

"I've had enough of this little charade," I said, standing up. "I'm going home now."

"You can't drive that far," she said. "You've had too much to drink."

"I'm fine."

"You can sleep on the sofa in the living room."

"You must be joking," I said.

She stepped forward with one hand outstretched. "If you don't give me your car keys, I'll have Paul take them by force."

"Like hell he will."

"Paul has a black belt in karate," she said. "He lifts weights every day."

I handed my car keys meekly to Allison.

"You're really enjoying this, aren't you?" I said bitterly.

"Get some sleep, Lee."

Hours later on the sofa I awoke from a bad dream and glanced at my wristwatch: four thirty-five. I crept up the staircase and paused at the door of the first bedroom. I heard no sounds and eased the door open. In the dim illumination of a nightlight I saw two naked people asleep on the bed. I gulped when I recognized Paul and Jeremy. Backing up, I closed the door silently behind me. The second bedroom was empty. I opened the door of the third bedroom and Allison immediately flipped on the light.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"I'm completely sober now," I said. "Let me have my car keys."

"Couldn't you wait until the sun came up?" she asked, fumbling with a drawer in the table beside her bed. She tossed the keys to me.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time last night," I apologized.

"Did you sleep at all?"

"Like a baby. Can I have your new telephone number?"

"I thought you were mad at me."

"I was, but I'm not anymore. I've seen the light."

"What are you blathering about?"

"Never mind," I said, smiling. "Just write down the number."

Driving down the mountain in the cool morning air I felt like a new man. It had rained during the night and on the last curve above the main highway I lost control of the car on the wet pavement. I hit the brakes and the car spun around and crashed backwards into a clump of bushes. My heart was thumping wildly as I tried to restart the engine.

A figure stepped out of the darkness, a girl dressed in a mini-skirt and tall leather boots. "Hey mister, you okay?" she asked.

"A little shook up," I admitted, cranking the ignition. When the engine finally started, I eased back onto the road and hesitated for a moment while my breathing returned to normal. The girl leaned in the passenger window.

"I need a ride."

I looked at her closely for the first time. Despite the purple lipstick she wore, she had a pretty face and could have passed for twenty.

"Where to?" I asked.

"Your place," she said with a practiced smile.

I thought of my sweet Allison fast asleep in her bed, dreaming perhaps of me. What she didn't know couldn't possibly hurt her. I reached over and opened the passenger door.

rachel
12-18-2005, 03:08 PM
Well if that isn't THE most depressing story. But it does make what women say about men quite understandable. It is a sickness I guess and a complete lack of respect for others.
I thought it very real and it was interesting to see thru the eyes of the man. For a moment, a fleeting moment I liked him, at least I thought he had potential.
Poor Poor Allison.
you are an astute reader of people. I like that. again I cannot see why on earth a book of short stories of people in your exotic world wouldn't sell. but that is just me.

starrwriter
12-18-2005, 06:50 PM
Well if that isn't THE most depressing story. But it does make what women say about men quite understandable. It is a sickness I guess and a complete lack of respect for others. I thought it very real and it was interesting to see thru the eyes of the man. For a moment, a fleeting moment I liked him, at least I thought he had potential. Poor Poor Allison.
Rachel, I can always count on you for a good laugh. Women aren't supposed to like Lee. He's a playboy. He's self-centered and insensitive -- and enjoying every minute of it. You have met the enemy of women in my story and that was my intention.

Now, if I could only find a female author who writes likewise about women ... but surely I expect too much.

rachel
12-19-2005, 11:40 AM
Actually I would like to meet such a woman as well.
On the other hand, perhaps you could ghost write or just write under a pseudonym because you have obviously had a lot of experience meeting women and perhaps have learned to 'see' thru their eyes. I would love you to try on this forum at least.
honestly I am surprised at your writing. most newspaper guys I know simply cannot move from the tight unemotional writing of the paper to something so filled with diverse feelings and thoughts. You are very gifted, and for someone who needs the magic whistle I sent you for Christmas(did you look at jingle bell post office) it is amazing, truly amazing.
cudos to you and I find it terribly hard to hate someone but that Lee well if iI see him on the street I shall give him a smack on the head with whatever newspaper I am carrying at the time. Then I shall go to father and confess. but it will have been worth it.

starrwriter
12-19-2005, 12:14 PM
Actually I would like to meet such a woman as well.
On the other hand, perhaps you could ghost write or just write under a pseudonym because you have obviously had a lot of experience meeting women and perhaps have learned to 'see' thru their eyes. I would love you to try on this forum at least.
I have written only one short story from a woman's point of view, titled "Fireflies," and more than one female reader told me I pulled it off. I will post it sometime later. (I feel somewhat hoggish for posting so many stories in the writing thread.)


honestly I am surprised at your writing. most newspaper guys I know simply cannot move from the tight unemotional writing of the paper to something so filled with diverse feelings and thoughts. You are very gifted, and for someone who needs the magic whistle I sent you for Christmas (did you look at jingle bell post office) it is amazing, truly amazing.
Thanks for the compliments, but if you're not careful, you'll make my head even bigger than it already is. Not that I have any compelling reason to feel overly proud of my writing. It has proven spectacularly unsuccessful from a financial standpoint. I do have a tiny following of avid readers who have built a cult around my work. They send me chicken heads and other voodoo trinkets in the mail.


cudos to you and I find it terribly hard to hate someone but that Lee well if iI see him on the street I shall give him a smack on the head with whatever newspaper I am carrying at the time. Then I shall go to father and confess. but it will have been worth it.
Lee is a composite of a couple guys I knew on Maui back in my wild playboy days. Plus me. (There must have been something in the island water supply that made everyone so horny.) The story is an account of a true experience (with certain dramatic license, of course.)