Start of Second Quarter of Classes
THE week between Christmas and New Year’s was quieter for me. I put in some hours at the shop, and when I wasn’t working I continued reading textbooks to prepare for the next quarter. I also did something totally decadent: I bought and read a fiction book—something that was pure fluff! It was great fun, and I thoroughly loved it, which was unfortunate because that meant that I wanted to read another meaningless book. But I only allowed myself one additional extravagant luxury.
New Year’s Eve was equally as dull as Christmas Eve had been. I once again warmed up something frozen and ate while reading. One good thing did come out of my time alone over the holidays: I took up running again. Each morning, and sometimes each evening as well, I went out into the surrounding streets and jogged. Over the three weeks I was working up to a fairly hefty duration, and I was quite pleased with my stamina and the way I was starting to drop a couple of pounds I had picked up over the last six months.
On January 2 I was tremendously excited: Bill was due back that day. I was excited, I was anxious, I was full of anticipation. I went to the grocery store early and bought a bunch of things to make us a nice dinner. I even went all out and bought a bottle of champagne for us to have our delayed New Year’s toast. I went online and checked out when the various airline flights from Australia got into Los Angeles so that I would have some sense of when he might be arriving. I didn’t know if such flights got in early in the day, middle of the day, or at the very end of the day. Early part of the day seemed more common, which worked fine with me.
I washed the sheets, cleaned the apartment, prepared some food, did some more reading, and did some pacing. But no Bill. As the hours slowly ticked by, there was still no sign of him as the sun started to go down. Totally frustrated, I decided that I needed to burn off some nervous energy, so I went out for a run. I ran and ran and ran, with ultra-loud music blasting in the headphones in my ears. I ran until I thought I was going to collapse—and then I ran some more. I wanted to run myself into unconsciousness. When I finally dragged myself up the street later that evening, I was once again hopeful that I would find the lights on and Bill waiting at home for me. But no. No lights greeted me, and the house was as empty as it had been when I left. Frustrated beyond belief, I showered and collapsed into bed, exhausted.
The following day was a repeat of the previous day. Again I waited, hopeful, anxious, full of anticipation, only to once again have those hopes dashed. On the third such day I had agreed to work to cover a shift for someone who had had a death in their family, which was good—not the death in the family, but the fact that I had work to take my mind off my anxiousness.
When I arrived to start my shift, the first person I saw was Slatter, who greeted me with a big smile and a “Happy New Year” greeting.
“So, how was it?” he asked.
“How was what?” I asked, not clear on what he was asking.
“How was the big reunion when Bill got home? Did you two have some quality time together to get reacquainted?”
I snorted. “Couldn’t tell you, since he never showed up.”
“Wasn’t he due home on the second?”
“That’s what I thought. But no sign of him. No word from him. No e-mails, no phone calls. No nothing. Just anxiousness and waiting.
“Nothing again on the third. And today is the fourth and still nothing. I have no way to get hold of him and no idea what could be happening. I was really, really hoping that we would have at least a couple of days together to ourselves before we start school again in… oh, let me see, three days! But I guess that’s not gonna happen.”
“Bummer, man. I’m so sorry, Mark. I really am. For the last couple of days I’d been picturing you two catching up on lost time and lounging around the house naked and happy.”
“It’s a nice image, but unfortunately that’s all it is.”
“You should have called me. I would come keep you company or help distract you or something.”
“I didn’t want to impose on you.”
“Mark!” he scolded me. “You can call me anytime. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do—you’re there when a friend needs someone. Don’t be so stubborn, okay?”
I grumbled something. “I’m probably not going to be winning lots of people over today with smiles and warm greetings. If they stick me at the register, I might have to start paying people from the tip jar rather than have them leave us tips.”
“Why don’t you and I switch positions today? I’ll take the front, and you do the behind the bar work. Sound good to you?”
“I would be very grateful. And so would our customers,” I said with a snicker.
Working together we kept busy, and that helped me more than anything else could have. Like the miles of running I’d been doing, keeping busy with work was equally therapeutic. When our shift was finished, Slatter gave me his best wishes as well as his cell phone number. He made me promise to call him that evening with some word on what was happening, either Bill was there or still nothing. I agreed.
When I got home I was once again hopeful that I’d find a light on and the place occupied, but once again I arrived home to an empty apartment. The food that I’d bought to prepare a special meal for us on the second, I had to throw away on the sixth. The next day classes started for the new quarter and still no word or sign of Bill. I had gone from concerned to anxious to angry and back again. Where I finally settled was angry. I liked the feeling and stuck with that. It gave me the most satisfaction.
The morning of the seventh I was up and out the door to head to campus for class. Bill had classes that morning as well, and I had no idea how he was going to handle missing his first day of class. I was so pissed I could barely see straight.
Slatter met me on campus for breakfast and coffee before class, which started for him that morning as well. He took one look at my body language and said, “That good, huh?”
“Peachy.”
“Still no sign of him?”
“Nope. Nothing.”
“I can’t believe he’s blowing off his first day of class.”
“Well, my friend, you’re in good company.”
We talked some over bagels and coffee, agreeing to meet for lunch after our second class. I had one more class in the early afternoon, and then I was finished for the day. At lunch, Slatter suggested that he go home with me to keep me company in case Bill wasn’t there when I got home. I agreed because I desperately needed the distraction. And, as anticipated, there was no sign of Bill when I got home or anytime that evening.
Moira was back from her trip out of town by then. When she came knocking on the door that evening to find out how the trip had worked out for Bill she was disappointed to find him not home. She said what I knew, that filming was captive to many variables and that many of those variables were beyond the control of anyone involved.
“Fine,” I said with some bitterness, “but now he’s not just taken away our vacation together, and a few days together when he was supposed to be back, but now he’s blowing off school. Do you know how hard we worked to get here? To get this all worked out? To earn some money?” She did, but she let me go on, sensing that I needed to vent.
Slatter watched our interaction, finally walking up behind me when he sensed that I was running down. He wrapped his arms around me and said, “Mark, I so wish I could fix this for you. I really do, but I don’t know what I can do aside from simply be here with you. I’m so sorry this has turned into one giant clusterfuck. I’d be pissed and annoyed and worried and everything else you’re feeling too.”
Moira was worried. I couldn’t tell if she was worried about me, worried about Bill, worried about Derrick, or worried about something else that I wasn’t aware of yet. She asked Slatter if he was staying for a while.
“If I can be of some help, definitely.”
“I’ll make a few calls and see if I can get any information.”
She never returned, so I could only assume, given the lateness of the hour, that she wasn’t able to reach anyone.
Slatter stayed with me, which was good, because there was no sign of Bill all week. On Friday he had officially missed a full week of classes. Any worry I had had was long past. I was simply dealing with one almighty pissed off attitude.
Little did I know, though, that my attitude was about to take on a decidedly darker tone very soon.