Chapter 13.

 

My alarm app went off.  I felt a pervasive feeling of universal disorder.  I reached out for my phone.  It wasn’t in its usual spot.  I fumbled towards where the sound was coming from.  I dragged the phone over and checked the time.  6:52.  That felt right.  But the power was down to 7%.  I hadn’t plugged it in last night.  I always plugged it in.  That felt wrong.  I grimaced, trying to guess how little power I’d get in forty minutes of charging before I’d need to head out.

 

That’s when I noticed that I was still wearing yesterday’s clothing.  I flipped on my dinosaur lamp, the same one I'd had since Mom created this space for me.  As the room appeared around me, I struggled into a sitting position.  My head felt oddly heavy as I looked around.  My backpack wasn’t in its usual spot and my computer, absent from my bookshelf, was probably still in it.  I could only guess at how much homework I'd ignored.  Why had I been so delinquent.  What had happened last night?

 

Last night.

The meet.

The date.

 

I grabbed my phone and opened the Twitter app.  I felt guilty for not having checked it sooner.   Five unanswered DMs.  I cringed to think of what might be contained in them.  I hadn't spoken to Channy since 4:30 yesterday.  Since before Zeta.  I was lucky there were only five DMs waiting for me.  I flipped through them briefly.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

That’s wonderful, Rick!  You must be on cloud 9, I mean 10 ;-)

I’m just glad that our strategy worked.

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Our strategy, presumably, wherein I fantasize about another girl.

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

Yeah

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At least I had answered that one, with my typical style and eloquence.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Congratulations!!

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This one had followed my last.  It must have been the DM I ignored as I walked out of the bathroom.  It had been accompanied by a jpeg of her smiling, serene and a little beamy.  She was holding up all of her fingers, presumably in reference to my perfect 10.

 

She looked so cute and innocent, the perfect representation of the girl I would hurt that evening.

 

=================================

**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

You guys must be having some celebration!

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Typical ChannyOne. She asked no question because she assumed she knew the answer.  But she was wrong.  At the time I received that DM, I was trapped by Zeta, touching her more than I had ever touched Channy.  I flushed with shame remembering how I had dreamed of kissing Zeta, just before receiving that DM.

 

=================================

**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Are you home yet?

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A simple four-word DM, but it cut like a knife.  There were so many times I had searched for the right question to bring this Channy out.  All it had taken was for me to be a jerk and stop talking to her.

 

By the time I had received this DM, the deed was done.  Zeta had asked me out and I had said yes.  How had I let things get out of hand?  I had been hiding my conversation from Zeta all afternoon.  If I had just been able to keep away from her, none of this would have happened.

  

=================================

**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Heavy workload tonight?

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ChannyTwo was the one who realized that life wasn't just a series of recurring dreams. She was the one who knew that things could go wrong, and maybe had gone wrong.

 

This DM had come in after that weird text from Jenny.  That was the last thing I remembered.  I was acting so wrong-headedly that even Jenny could tell.  Wracked by guilt, I had collapsed into bed.

 

=================================

**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Is everything okay, Rick?

You can talk to me.

=================================

 

Everything was not okay.  Not with me and not with Channy.  It had gotten so bad that the vulnerable ChannyThree was peeking through the “Or I'll be late for” DM.

 

Mom’s overworked voice cut straight into my brain, bypassing my ears.  I hadn’t realized she was still there -- sometimes she left before my alarm went off.  Now that I knew she was there, I could hear her puttering around in the kitchen.  I was suddenly struck by the growing number of women I was deceiving -- Mom, Zeta and most painfully Channy.  I needed to start coming clean.  Mom was the ideal place to begin.  

 

Putting down my phone, I hauled myself up and through the curtain.  Mom was loading the dishwasher as my eyes adjusted to the light.

 

“Good morning, Honey,” she said, with a smile that must be uniquely offered from mothers to sons.  “I was just on my way out.”

 

“Hey, Mom. I'm glad that I caught you.  I, uh.  I’m gonna catch a movie after school today.”

 

She picked up the implication immediately.  I was going to miss our movie night.  Her lips pursed in disappointment.  But then she tilted her head and gave me a knowing smile.

 

“With the mystery girl?”

 

That would have made life easier.

 

“No, just a friend from school.”

 

“Ah-ha!  So mystery girl doesn't go to your school, eh?”

 

I suddenly realized that I was on unsafe grounds.  If Mom asked enough questions, I’d eventually give her all of the information.  Not for the first time, I wondered how Channy would look to Mom.  There’s no way that she’d look acceptable.  Would she look like a predator?  Like she was developmentally challenged?  Or would she just look like the freak I was?  Would that make it obvious that I was a freak also?  Mom, totally oblivious to the downward spiral I was experiencing, continued digging for information.

 

“Kenneth?”

 

“Uh, no.  Someone from calculus.”

 

“Oh!  Gers!”

 

It wasn't a question, so I didn't answer it.  I was the soul and wit of honesty.

 

“Well, don't you dare think of skipping our walk tomorrow, young man.  I'll expect you up at the regular time.”

 

I smiled and nodded.  I’d make it my mission to be on that walk.  Hell, I’d make it my mission to be social and engaged during our walk.  I’d talk about anything Mom wanted.  Besides Channy.  Or Zeta.  It was going to be a rough walk.  She cocked her head to the side and looked at me.

 

“Is everything alright?  You look troubled.  You can talk to me, Ricky.”  

 

The echo of Channy’s DM made the knife twist harder. I couldn't talk to Mom about Channy, the girl who dreamed our future.  And I couldn't talk to Channy about Zeta, the girl who was ruining our present.  No matter what they thought, I couldn't talk to anyone about anyone.  And 100% of my problems were about someone.

 

But I had come in here to clear the air with Mom, and she was working so hard to reach out to me.  I really wanted to talk to her.  I really wanted to say something.  Raking my hand through my hair, I combed my brain for something that was both real and not too revealing.

 

“Mom, does it ever feel like people are just the masks they wear?  That there's nothing underneath?”

 

I thought that I'd been thinking about Jenny, and the way she sounded so different inside her head.  I might even have convinced myself that I was thinking about Channy, and how ChannyOne held the better Channies, at bay.  But as the words came out of my mouth, it was obvious.  I was talking about myself.  I was talking about the mask I put on in front of Channy so that she couldn't see Zeta.  I was talking about how hard I was working to hide Channy from Zeta.  And worst of all, I was thinking about the mask I wore everyday in front of Mom, and the endless effort I put into hiding my freak show from her.

 

Mom looked at me with sad, loving eyes.  What was obvious to me was equally obvious to her.  I had revealed some ambiguous, inner guilt.

 

“It's okay to wear a mask sometimes, Rick.  Not everyone deserves to get all of you everyday.  It's okay to keep parts of yourself private.  It's even okay if you don't want to talk about her with me.”

 

She offered a thin smile, which I returned.

 

“But Rick,” she continued.  “I’m not comfortable with all of these secrets.  If she really loves you, she’ll want to be part of your life.  And she can’t be if you’re not allowed to talk about her.”

 

I had to look away.  My mouth opened, fumbling to say anything, but nothing came out.  After several seconds, Mom continued.

 

“And Rick, I want you to talk to me before you make any big decisions.  You understand, me, right?”

 

Geez.  Always sex.  Mom must have spent way more time thinking about my sex life than I did.  Heck, I found it hard enough to remember which girl I was supposed to be kissing.

 

“Right, Mom.”

 

She continued to look at me, trying to figure out what was going on in my head.  I didn’t blame her.  I didn't know what was going on in my head, and I was clairvoyant. 

 

“And if she ever hurts you, mama will be there to make it better.”

 

“I'm not worried about her hurting me.” 

 

I had intended the comment lightly, a breezy exit line from a way too serious conversation.  But Mom picked up on the deeper meaning instantly.  Her face was awash in sadness, tinged with disappointment.  I didn't have to hear her to know she was thinking “like father, like son.”

 

“I haven't hurt her either,” I rushed out, louder than I intended.   “Not yet.  And I'm going to make this right.”  I was breathing hard, by the time I’d finished.

 

“I know you’ll do the right thing, Ricky.”

 

She squeezed my hand, putting me in mind of that tiny, clinging hand I had held so recently.  Then, silently, she started to gather her things.

 

“I'll see you when I see you,” she sighed as she headed out the door, leaving me trapped with myself and my guilt.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Good morning, Rick!

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Myself, my guilt and ChannyOne.  The conversation with Mom hadn’t come out as well as I had hoped, but it was something.  Now I had to turn my attention to making it right with Channy.  I knew what I had to do.  But I wasn't ready to do it yet.

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

Hey, I'm sorry about last night.

The meet took a lot out of me.

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

That's okay!  

I hope you’re well rested.  Tonight’s movie night with your mother!

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It was like she could see the guilt through the phone.

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

Yeah.  I'm heading out to school.

What's up with you?

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A jpeg arrived, with the following DM:

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

This!

 

I don’t have Friday classes this semester,

So it’s off to my magical kingdom!

=================================

 

I opened the picture.  It was Channy.  At the Gap.  In her Gap uniform.  The image entirely shook me out of the guilt-laden cobweb I had spun for myself.  I stopped to marvel at the bizarre vision which Channy had produced.  The Gap had a full-fledged fairy queen working for them, and they made her fold sweaters.  I smiled a wry smile, thinking about her working.  It was just the transition I needed.  I wished her good luck, popped on my Friday mix, and headed out.

 

As I bounced down the stoop, I watched a red Volkswagen pass.  I was struck by how rarely I ever saw them.  They were small.  They should be easy to park.  I marveled that Cambridge wasn’t awash in them.  Somehow the vehicle had managed to clear my head.

 

I took the opportunity to think through my situation.  I had a future with Channy.  I may not even have had a present with Zeta.  Why would I risk the one for the other?  Just because Zeta wore tight clothes, ran her fingers through my hair and had kissable lips?  I hadn’t ever thought of them as kissable.  But they were.  Fuller than Channy’s.  And broader.  And more inviting.   Zeta’s lips didn't have those downturns, at the corners of her mouth, like Channy had.  I suddenly realized that it was those little downturns that made her smile seem so smug.  Zeta’s lips had slight, mischievous upturns, that teased me and dared me to come get them.  

 

A second volkswagen careened around the corner.

 

Somehow I struggled back to what I had considering -- Zeta’s lips.  They were pretty.  And less chapped.  But, lips aside, I knew what I had to do.  I would do it when I got to school.  Or I’d figure out what I had to do when I got to school.  Or something.

 

I hit Pearl street and turned right, heading in towards Central Square.  In the cold and sunny air, the phantoms of the prior night started to fade away.  I suddenly realized that this wasn’t good.  My resolve to do the right thing was entirely driven by those phantoms.  I saw a third Volkswagen, parked on the street.  I felt a sudden resolve to return to Channy.

 

I took another glance at the Gap picture.  Her smile was serene, almost apologetic.  It was like she was sorry to admit to the normality of her life.  It made her look vulnerable, and very pretty.  It made her look like a girl I could be with for the long-term.

 

The minute I put away the phone, another image struck me.  Zeta, on the bus, turning that triumphant, mischievous smile on me.  She was pretty, too.  It shocked me that I had never noticed this.  Of course when her head was shaved, that's all you'd notice.  But everything about her was pretty.  She must have been a pretty skinhead and a pretty hippie, too.   I felt a little guilty to have known her this whole time and never said anything nice.

 

I looked desperately for a Volkswagen, but none were to be found.

 

My life had certainly taken some interesting turns.  Three months ago, I could have safely guessed that no girl would ever be interested in me.  And now, here I was, having to reject one.  Of course I knew the right thing to do.  I knew which one I had to reject.  I just wish that made it easier to act.  Channy and Zeta.  Zeta and Channy.  One was beautiful; the other…

 

Channy represented forever.  But was I ready for that?  Channy was serious.  Zeta was fun.  Channy wanted commitment.  Zeta wanted a movie.  Channy wante

 

I leapt across Mass Ave, just escaping the fourth Volkswagen.

 

Breathing heavily, I opened my phone and regarded her photo.  Man, she was cute.  And endearingly mysterious.  I flipped through my other pictures of her.  By now I had almost fifty.  Most of them featured the serene smile.  Several had the smug smile.  Only the Gap jpeg featured the vulnerable smile.  It was instantly “stupid jerk” my favorite.

 

I looked up briefly, and avoided running into a fellow pedestrian.  As he passed, I slowed to a halt.  I felt a strange feeling of unease creep through me.  I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out what was bothering me.  At first, I thought it must have been my imagination.  But then, I saw him, across the street.  He was sitting at one of the tables outside of Whole Foods.

 

I wasn’t sure what drew him to my attention.  At first, all I saw was the black fisherman's hat.  And even with his leather jacket on, I could tell he was full of muscles.  But then I saw the unruly, longish blonde hair underneath his hat, and something stirred in my recollection.  It had to be him.  Suspect #1.

 

I pulled out my phone and queued up the video.  Carefully, I walked twenty feet forward so I could get a peek at his face.  I compared it to the face on the phone.  It sure seemed like him.  I pulled out my phone, to send his picture to Channy.  I zoomed in, grabbed the photo and sent it.  I looked at the photo I had just taken and almost cried out.  In the photo, he was looking straight at me.

 

With a growing sense of dread, I looked up from the phone.  He was now standing, facing me.  His face was a mask of hatred.

 

I ran.  

 

I made a quick left on Broadway and then another left, onto Tremont.  I had no plan other than to get away.  I saw a familiar building on the other side of the street.  Before I could place it, I made my decision.  I jumped over the three-foot wrought iron fence, landing on my face in the wood chips on the other side.  As I scrambled to my feet, I remembered when I had been here before.  This was Gers’ synagogue and I had been here for his brother’s bar mitzvah.  The service had been long and boring.  The luncheon had been packed with people I didn’t know.  But we had ran around like mad men all afternoon.  There was a tool shed in the yard.  We had played hide and go seek there, during the party.  I needed to get to that shed.

 

With my jeans ripped and my knee scabbing, I limped into the shed and shut the door behind me.  In the near darkness, I slid to the floor and pleaded with my lungs to stop gasping.  Even after my breath died down, the sound of my heart pounding filled the shed.  As it, too, subsided, I soaked in a silence which promised safety.  Then my phone buzzed, like an explosion filling the near-darkness.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

That does look like suspect #1.

It's like he's looking straight at you.

=================================

 

For someone who could see the future, Channy sure could be nearsighted.  I decided to ignore her DM.  But I had to figure out if I was in danger.  I didn’t hear him out there, but I’d made so much noise.  I doubt I  could have heard him over my own clatter.  

 

I looked up.  I could see that the doors of the shed were warped and didn't close flush.  There was a gap between the doors that looked big enough for me to see out.  As quietly as I could, I rose to my feet and pressed my eye against the opening.  I could only see a limited panorama.  If he was out there, I couldn't see him. I slid quietly back to the floor and took out my phone.

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

He was looking at me.

He was going to kill me!

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After a second’s more thought I added

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

I ran.  I’m hiding in a shed.

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I stared at the phone, willing a response.  Just as I was ready to give up, it buzzed back to life.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

Are you okay?

Do you need me to come get you?

=================================

 

What the hell?  Does a dragon need a fairy to rescue it?  Besides, she was all the way on the other side of town.  Her response made no sense.  I stood back up and peered out of the shed again.  If he was out there, he was better at hiding than I.

 

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**Rick Smith

@LittleTwerp

 

I’m fine.  I’m getting out of here and going to school.

=================================

 

As I was reaching for the doors, the phone buzzed.

 

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**Channing

@MyFakeWife

 

You don’t sound fine.

You don’t sound like yourself at all.

If something’s wrong, you can talk to me, Rick.

=================================

 

And then it hit me.  She was treating me like a kid.  I was so angry, I forgot about the suspect and barreled out of the shed.  Luckily, he seemed to have forgotten about me as well.  As I headed back towards Prospect street, all joy had drained out of the morning.  The sun no longer kept the cold from my face.  I no longer felt any pleasure in my photos.  And worst of all, I still had to confront Zeta.

 

Zeta.

 

Zeta didn’t treat me like a kid.  She didn’t buy me a drink and offer to come get me because I was scared.  I wondered what would happen if we did go to a movie.  Would she have clutched my hand, like Channy?  I bet she would have had a softer grip.  Would we kiss?  Would we do more?

 

I continued to muse about Zeta dates as I approached school.  I checked my watch and saw that I was a few minutes late.  But I’d been late before.  I could handle tardiness.   But then I looked up, and saw a tight ponytail follow a girl through the front door.

 

Holy cow.

 

Zeta had been waiting for me.  She had given up just before I’d arrived.  I paused, my breath becoming heavy again.  I was not ready to confront her.