Snowscape Trilogy (2 page)

“I’ll take a martini,” I said sweetly as I
pulled my long brown tresses out of the bun and reestablished
itself as a limp mess down my back. Eric turned without so much as
a word and placed a bottle of Rainier and a shot of Jamison in
front of me. “Thanks, Eric,” I said taking my beer and downing half
of it in the first gulp.

After my initial drink and the much-needed
shot thanks to the untimely stranger today upsetting my nerves I
settled back into my usual routine and started to sip my beer.
Although I don’t consider myself an overly social creature, I do
enjoy the company I find in a room full of people who would not
judge me or feel the need to talk to me unnecessarily. My aunt had
once told me that I was a loner and I took that more
complimentarily than I think she had meant it, but it was true to
the core. I didn’t relish the idea of being alone; however I always
felt a sense of unease around most people. I am able to function
and cordially deal with anyone on a day-to-day basis, but I did not
talk about myself and I didn’t want questions asked of me. ‘Aloof’
was how my high school guidance counselor phrased it once in my
permanent record. Aloof was the mantra of how I lived my life.

Aloof like that man today.

My mind took an unexpected turn back to the
blond haired stranger I had seen earlier. I let me thoughts drift
around him once again. I had already consciously decided that he
must have mistaken me for someone else he knew and had probably
realized the error by now. Something about the whole situation
still tugged at my emotions though. His name was lingering on the
tip of my tongue. With a heavy sigh, I realized that I would most
likely never figure out this puzzle, much like other ones in my
life, and decided to just let the matter go for now.

Tonight was a slow night at Blake’s. At the
bar sat Henry, a local postal worker, whose wife had left him six
years ago and who had rare contact with his daughter who moved to
Minnesota to work at a museum. At a table across the room sat
Paula, pushing her usual wares onto a new and unsuspecting
stranger. Paula was about sixty-five years old, never married,
always on the rebound and tried to straddle any male that entered
the tavern who even glanced her way. I always pictured her to be
exactly what I would become in about 40 years: an unwanted woman
whose main goal in life was to fuck around until finding someone to
make her feel attractive and desired. Because of this I was always
exceedingly nice to Paula and we had formed a bit of a bond over
the last few months. With her latest conquest in sights, she didn’t
even notice me come in today. I starred down at the bar for a
moment and had Eric pour me a double shot of Whiskey.

I felt the main entrance door open when the
cool October breeze hit the back of my neck with a chilling
prickle. It was a pleasant contrast for a moment to the warm liquor
pouring down my throat. I heard the unmistakable giggle of a
twenty-year-old sorority girl come up next to me as Eric handed me
my second beer. You have to appreciate a bar tender that knows his
clientele.

“What’s good here?” she asked no one in
particular setting herself down on the bar stool.

I shrugged and mumbled beer as I turned away
and moving to the farthest table from her.

As I sat down, the front door opened again
and I saw him enter and stride directly to the bar. He was still
wearing the same outfit he had been while checking me out earlier
today. He clearly was not without funding as I could now see the
designer labels on his jeans and in broad contrast to most of the
men who lingered about Blake’s on a daily basis, he now stood out
in clear beauty and overwhelming arrogance. I took a moment to
truly admire his boyish charms and the way his jeans hung off of
his masculine hips. He was tall and I could tell that if he were
next to me he would seemingly tower over my frame by about six
inches. His dark blond curls were darker in the dimly lit bar and
had that freshly tousled look that most well to do men can pull off
by running their fingers through after a shower. For a brief second
I imagined myself doing just that and suddenly I felt a warmth
creep up inside of me. My body reacted before my mind in a tight
frustration before I shook myself out of it. I’d been in this
position before. Guys like that were unattainable to girls like me.
I was destined for gay best friends and pity fucks for the rest of
my life due to my average looks and inability to function in social
settings. Besides, I was partly in love with the man that visited
my dreams, wasn’t I? Looking closely at the wood grain of the table
I smiled to myself in the private joke I could never share.

With the thoughts of my
dark robed companion passing through my mind I felt a strong breeze
roll in through the main door of the tavern announcing another
peasant to grace the fiefdom that was Eric’s domain. I looked up
only to see that it had not opened at all and undoubtedly it must
have been my imagination. I glanced over and
he
was looking at the door as well
with a curious tilt of the head. Suddenly he turned and looked
directly at me, undoubtedly boring into my eyes again, but I
couldn’t see through the dim reflection that his glasses cast back
at me. His face and demeanor were without surprise this time.
Although I could detect the look of his perfect lips tense up into
the terse frown he gave me earlier. The familiar scowl made me
smile to myself and an overwhelming urge to kiss them and rub my
teeth across their moist folds reared up through my thoughts like a
tidal wave. I continued our stare down. He did not look happy to
see me here, although clearly had not been disappointed by it
either. My mind impetuously raced off in a thousand different
erotic directions and as the image of he and I covered in a sheen
of sweat, kissing passionately before a fire bored down clearly
into my mind I could see the corner of his lip turn slightly up as
he bit down with a self satisfied smirk. Before my embarrassment
could overtake me into an uncomfortable episode of disillusionment,
I downed my beer, threw a $20 on the table and waved to Eric as I
quickly stalked out to my rusted out, red Acura.

I drove home blasting the radio to keep my
unwarranted promiscuous thoughts at bay.

Chapter 3

The image of the stranger had somehow invaded
my dreams. It was a beautiful spring afternoon that held a crisp,
chilly wind but standing in the sun made you feel warm and cozy.
Too warm in fact, and as I walked along the path that cradled a
small stream I was amazed at the temperature difference between the
sun and the shade. Much like life, there was no in between here. No
warm shade. You were either too hot or desperately chilled. As I
continued walking the colors of the grass and creek stood out in
their natural boldness. In an inviting patch of clovers I sat down
and put my feet into the cool running water and I watched small
golden fish scurry by my toes, my mind touching upon many things
but finally laying claim to the blonde stranger I had seen twice
yesterday. Most people took a bath or relaxed at the beach. I
preferred the isolated arena of my dreams in which to mull odd
occurrences or important crossroads.

The sensations in the bar were not unfamiliar
to me, and in fact were stronger than anything I had ever felt
before while awake. He had obviously noticed some of it, either my
discomfort or the images that passed in my mind. The idea felt
ludicrous so I let it go and focused on the beauty that surrounded
me.

I felt him approach before I saw him, so as
the shade loomed closer over my shoulder I moved to the side so he
would have room to sit and join me in my private solitude. As he
neared, his shadow fell over me and I noticed that it held none of
the chill that the others did. It felt warmer than the sun and as
he kneeled behind me I leaned back into his warm inviting embrace.
I closed my eyes as the sun beamed through my lids in a soothing,
snug cocoon of relaxation. I could feel his heartbeat against my
back, and could smell the warm spice that had always accompanied
him.

I had imagined many different scenarios as to
which this man was, each more fantastic than the last. A lost
magician. Another wayward dreamer. An extraterrestrial? I could
feel his smirk without even having to see his face. I had never
seen his face in all of my years with him in my shadow. He was
always entertained by my musings and I never felt ashamed of them.
The sudden thought that he wasn’t real spiked a chill up my spine
to my core. Simultaneously he reached his arms around me and held
me close to him as he always did when I began to doubt my sanity. I
knew that soon my quiet would be coming to an end. That was the way
of things and I knew this stranger that invaded my thoughts was
going to be the one to break the spell of normalcy I had recently
cast over my life.

My warm, robed friend ran his hands down my
arms and held my finger intertwined with his. He stroked our finger
together as I felt him nuzzle down into the nape of my neck. He
kissed me tenderly below my earlobe and trailed up to where my hair
met my chin. I felt goose bumps run their length down my arms and
both of my legs. I wrapped his hands around my waist and he held me
tighter as I reached up behind and pulled his head closer to me and
ran my fingers through his hair catching only a glimpse of black.
My memory flashed briefly back to the bar and I imagined my fingers
running through dark blonde strands instead of black.

Suddenly I was alone and cold. I looked up
and the sun was gone. He had taken it with him in his jealous
retreat.

Chapter 4

I sat at The Spot Coffee enjoying a skim
latte mulling through the latest development. Alistair had informed
me that Ted would be moving in. And although I enjoyed Ted’s
companionship greatly, I wasn’t sure how long they would want to
deal with a third roommate while they were playing house. Oh and
dark strangers in my dreams that were jealous of my waking life.
But mostly I didn’t want to have to move.

Kayla slipped into the seat across from me
breaking up my reverie. “You look like hell, Amy.” She sipped her
iced chai our of a small paper cup that all employees of The Spot
were required to use when on their break and flipped back her long
blonde and purple dreads.

“Thanks,” I sighed. “I slept horribly. You
know, the usual.” Like Alistair, Kayla knew I suffered from
disturbing dreams but I had never shared how deep the disturbance
was. I have been having dreams like this for as long as I could
remember. He was always there. He was always trying to control me.
He never once did, but the tension between us never seemed to end.
There was always a little give and take on either end and I knew he
was always holding back from me. I had done a lot of study on
Freudian dream theoretic while I was a teenager, but had not come
to any forgone conclusions. Once, when I was younger I had tried to
share the content of my dreams with my Aunt Evelyn, but she had
dismissed it easily as a fantastic 8 year olds imagination and I
never spoke of it again. It had taken me weeks to build up the
courage to talk to her about him, but her blank face when I spoke
of having strange dreams quickly confirmed that she did not know or
care how to raise a child.

I stretched my legs out a bit under the table
in a futile attempt to unwind and relax.

“What about you? How
did
you
sleep last
night?”

She laughed. Loudly. “Well, for your
information, I slept quite well after I kicked Steven out of my
apartment.”

“Sorry. The date was that bad?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No, not specifically. He
was fine until he decided to get a little too greedy with my tits
without permission.” I paled at the thought and she laughed
dramatically at my face. “I’m just kidding. He didn’t try anything.
I don’t know… It was just a vibe, ya know? Something about him just
wasn’t right. I couldn’t quite place it, but…I had a feeling.” I
laughed. Kayla, who quickly became one of my close friends after
moving to Olympia, was a feeling kind of girl. All of her decisions
were based on the aura of the opposing situation or person. Her
life choices were rarely based on cold hard facts, and those were
limited to the ones out of her control such as rent or doctor
visits. Still, after first walking into Spot Coffee and Kayla
peering at me through her wire rimmed half glasses, I was declared
a positive influence for her chakras. She claimed that she
immediately had a ‘good feeling’ about me being a friend and we had
decidedly become daily caffeine buddies. In my experiences it had
never hurt to become close acquaintances to someone with unlimited
access to caffeinated beverages or alcohol for that matter. Plus
Kayla turned out to be a pretty good listener when I needed to
vent. “Listen, my break is almost over. You good?”

I nodded, complete with fake smile. “I’m
good.”

Five hours, and two lattes later I found
myself in a gay bar called Marco’s Triangle. Alistair had decided
that I needed to accompany him despite my desire to sit at home and
catch up on some very important books that I thought required way
more attention. Despite my lack of enthusiasm I sat at yet a
different bar, drinking a different cocktail, dressed in my finest,
sleazy, low cut outfit. I doubted if I had told my fellow partiers
that I’d prefer to be in bed, they’d have believed I meant
asleep.

Escapism had always been a
bit of a bad habit of mine, and to be honest my dreams were far
more entertaining than my real life. Somehow I had always managed
to thwart off every attempt at love any friend had tried to gently
force upon me. Not that I was unhappy about that. The guys some of
my closer friends found to set me up with were just not… well they
were just not
him
.
My dark robed visitor.