Monday, April 2, 2012

THE SHARK CHRONICLES: FOURTEENTH POSTCARD

          Darren frowned at the paper in his hand, in between the Illinois and Iowa postcards- it was thick card stock, but not a conventional postcard. It was rather, half of a pre-folded wedding invitation, but the back side had been modified with the standard markings for a postcard- the stamp icon, the address lines, and so on.
THROUGH VEILED EYES

Linda watched her husband Jim fondly as he placed the tray in the allotted space atop the trash receptacle. She took another sip from her coffee, watching his tall, robust frame moving through the other seated patrons. Jim headed towards the front entrance, and Linda’s brow wrinkled. Where was he going? She wondered. He’d left his coffee and windbreaker on the table and chair, so he wasn’t going to leave.
Jim reached into his back pocket and brought out a pack of cigarettes, and started slapping the pack into his palm. Linda stuck her tongue out in disgust. Jim smoked? Forget about being married to him. She looked away, turning slightly in her seat to remove Jim from her peripheral vision.
Her eyes came to rest upon a dark-skinned man with almond eyes and close-cropped hair. His teeth shone through his smile as he chatted with a male companion. Derek. She imagined his hands holding hers as he slid her new wedding ring upon her finger, his touch gentle yet firm, as if to say, I will never let you go. She watched him, smiling whenever he smiled. Her husband’s conviviality was just so contagious. Derek made her so very proud to be with him, the way he interacted with people so easily; He was such a big hit with her friends and her family.
A redheaded woman, dressed very stylishly, entered the coffeehouse, and upon noticing Derek, she called out to him, and hurriedly crossed over to his table. Derek stood up and-
Oh. He had a girlfriend. He kissed the redhead with deep affection and held her close, bathing her in his smileight. Unfaithful jerk.
Linda exhaled noisily, then reached into her purse and pulled out a book. The latest insipid bestseller, which she’d picked up while at the grocery store. She ran her eyes up and down the pages without really absorbing the text, glancing up often at the various people coming and going. Then Adam came in.
Adam, with the thick head of blonde hair, with the strong jawline, the manicured hands, the snugly fitting polo shirt.  Linda had seen him come in a few times. She spent a great deal of time at the coffeehouse during her down time between classes and work shifts. She considered Adam for a moment. Yes. He would do. She’d had doubts before, but she could see now that her husband had matured, that he was now ready for a commitment of the kind that marriage required. She smiled at Adam while he ordered at the counter. The girl at the cash register handed Adam two cups. Adam filled one with coffee, and the other with water. Linda ran her hand through her hair, flipping it over her neck and shoulder as Adam walked by, knowing that was something he’d always loved about her.  Adam continued walking, and then knelt by a table near the entrance. He put down the cup of water next to the dog sitting there. The very large dog.
Linda’s lip curled. She wasn’t a fan of large dogs, or small ones, for that matter.  She wasn’t interested in a marriage that included furry children requiring a lot of attention. The same reason she’d nixed the idea of being married to Ben, the shy but very intelligent professor who always seemed to be reading the most interesting books. She hadn’t seen Ben in some time, but it was just as well, since he was as unsuitable as Adam, since Ben owned a boxer.
Linda got up and paid the fifty cents required for an in-house refill of her coffee, then returned to her seat. Just then, a person who had been hidden behind a newspaper ever since Linda arrived earlier in the hour, folded the newspaper and laid it flat on the table revealing-
Manuel. Manuel, her Latin lover. She reminisced of how he’d swept her off her feet with his exotic demeanor, and oh, that accent!  They’d spent so much time exploring each other, and the wedding had been a magnificent affair with roses everywhere. Manuel glanced up at Linda, and smiled at her, smiled at his wife whom he loved so very dearly. Then his cell phone rang. He answered it immediately with a well-practiced flip of his wrist and a swipe of his finger. He spoke so loudly, Linda could hear him clearly.
“Hey! Yeah, it’s me,” he declared in a flat Midwestern accent, his a’s clinging to his tongue before finally letting go. “Eh? Come again? Oh yeah, yeah alrighty- sounds great to me and shit,” he continued, letting out a bray of horsey laughter. He made eye contact with Linda again and grinned, but Linda looked down at her book, pretending to be engrossed, rather than grossed out.
She decided to put an end to her presence at the coffeehouse. After all, her coffee was getting cold. She began to gather her things together, but paused when she saw the man that entered at the same time a siren wailed outside. It was as if the cry of the siren heralded Luther’s arrival, like an urban trumpet for a royal personage.
Royal indeed was Luther’s bearing as he strolled genially towards the counter. The lights shone upon his clean-shaven head, and off the well-defined outlines of his biceps. His muscles and skin moved smoothly under his clothes. His goatee was neat, and trimmed very carefully. Linda imagined that it would tickle her lips as they kissed, but of course he would be considerate and not sandpaper her face as they shared passionate embraces.
Linda watched her husband near her table, and she glanced down at the seat opposite her to make sure the table wasn’t cluttered at that end. As Luther drew closer, she could see he had a tattoo on his left arm.  She squinted slightly to discern the tattoo. It was a triangle, with the broad base on top, the narrow tip pointing downwards, and it was colored with 7 equally sized bands, the colors of the rainbow. Linda continued to gather her things, her lips tight with disappointment.
The sudden, loud giggle of the girl at the register caused Linda to glance up, startled. The girl was blushing, clearly flattered by the attention from the man standing there. He was a bit large, with a stomach that protruded a little past his jacket lines. His hair was not receding, because it had already receded. Linda didn’t worry about how Mark looked, because looks weren’t everything after all. She was no beauty contest winner herself, but Mark had always seen past the flesh exterior into her true self, her soul and center of her being. That was why she’d gladly consented to be his wife.
Mark turned, and Linda saw his eyes. She involuntarily squeezed the coffee cup in her hand hard enough to cause the plastic lid to pop off, the seal undone. She’d seen the hard cruelty in his eyes, how his easy grin didn’t quite reach all the way up there. She envisioned his hands upon her, but not with loving caresses. Rather, fists and open hands to cause bruises and wounds upon the skin and in the heart, damage to her bones and self-esteem. No, to be Mark’s wife would be a mistake. She hastily fixed the lid, not wanting to attract any more attention from this man, this quite unsuitable man-
“You okay there?” a pleasant voice inquired. Linda looked up at her beloved Chris, a bit on the young side, but with beautiful blue eyes peering out from the adorable mop of hair atop his head. “Spilled a little coffee there,” he observed, handing her a paper napkin. As Linda took the napkin from her husband, she saw the wedding ring on his hand, the ring that was not her gift to him, but another woman’s claim upon him. That would never do- Linda was not one to encourage or endorse bigamy.
She thanked the Samaritan politely, and then finished her preparation to leave. She debated leaving the book behind for someone else to take possession of, since it really wasn’t very good, but in the end, she shoved it into her purse. Linda stood up, surveying the coffeehouse quickly, as she shouldered her purse. She tossed the half-empty cup of coffee away, and then strode out, headed home to her lonely apartment that she shared with nobody.
Jake observed her departure with a twinge of disappointment. He saw her inside the coffeehouse often, and thought she was a beautiful woman, if a bit sad. As he watched Linda through the glass front, he began to daydream, as he had several times in the past. He imagined what it might be like to hold Linda close as he whispered in her ear. He thought about conversations, caresses, and companionship. He visualized how Linda would look as she smiled at him through her wedding veil, and how he would stroke her cheek softly before he lifted the veil to lean in and kiss his new bride.

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