I Heard It and Laughed (412 hits)
Category: UberMadness! EntryRating: 2 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by thaumaturge (View user info) at 2004-11-18 14:13:21 EST
This post was an official UberMadness! entry. Click here to view the original matchup.
Wincing at the sting of the first northern wind, I saw her unlock the door of the old vintage shop that has felt the turn of her key so many times before. Adjusting the collar on my faded corduroy jacket without breaking my gaze, I felt the familiar tranquility that only her nearness could bring. I have watched her emerge and retract for years now, in absolute shadow. Danielle was my obsession.
****
Many would say that working with your hands brings unparalleled satisfaction. As an eighteen-year-old construction worker, I could not have agreed less. Susan, my girlfriend at the time, could not have been more demanding. My meager pay and terrible schedule left the two of us in constant battle. She wanted everything that I could not give her. Our humble apartment was sufficed for the simple life that I craved, yet a far cry from the visions of dear Susan. As hard as I tried, I could not appease her.
Susan moved back with her parents shortly after my nineteenth birthday that year. As awful as the fighting between us was, I was stricken with heartache. It always seems that way... the relationships with the most turmoil seem to sting the most at their closure. I waited by the phone every night, staring in awkward silence at the space where her dresser used to sit.
Three weeks had past before it rang.
"Jon, I'm late." Susan mumbled in despair.
I was simultaneously shocked and elated. "You mean, I mean... we're going to have a baby? I'll come get you Sue; it's time you came back. I've been miserable without you. Besides, now we can..."
"I just thought you should know." She interrupted.
With an excruciating 'click', our conversation ended.
Eighteen, single and pregnant was not feasible for Susan's parents, who swiftly sent her to live with her wealthy aunt in St. Louis. Despite my vivid protests to Susan's parents, I was never given proper details of her whereabouts. I was informed that Susan is content and that I was to never see her again. I would have no 'responsibility' for my unborn child and to take 'comfort' in the fact that I was not liable for any expense.
St. Louis became an ominous beacon to me, the city that stole my first-born.
Despite my efforts to forget Susan entirely, I simply could not ignore my child.
****
My main focus after those fateful events in my early adult years was to attain success. My inability to earn cost me my shot at a family and I wasn't about to take that chance again. I majored in business at college and landed quite a cozy job with the far-from-altruistic Lexfirm, Inc. Lexfirm makes its fortune by attaining contracts for low-income housing and gouging everyone from suppliers to purchasers to make an incredible overhead. The ethics of the company, or the work itself, were of a moot point for me. The job paid very well, and within a few years my requests to transfer were met with a managerial role in Lexfirm's new branch in none other than St. Louis.
It didn't take me long to get settled in my new city. Work was booming and I was making plenty of cash. Ambivalence shrouded my new found economic confidence as the likelihood of rejection grew with each passing month. Will my child ever accept me? Eighteen years...did Susan ever mention me?
I was paralyzed with fear while contemplating my next move. How do I find Susan? If I find her, could I simply knock on the door? What then? I did what I had become accustomed to: I stalled.
One fine afternoon while visiting a model home opening at a job site in the west end I set to task on rubberstamping contracts when I was introduced to a prospective tenant.
"Mr. Saunders?" The disheveled man questioned.
Somewhat startled, I responded "Yes, can I help you with anything? The details are all listed in the main entrance of the home and you can help yourself to a coffee..."
"To be frank Mr. Saunders I need your help." He interrupted.
"My wife Susan and I are in a tough position. We just lost our home and we desperately need your help. My wife is quite serious about maintaining a high standard of living that I simply cannot afford. Now, you oversee the production and sales of low-income model homes, correct?"
I stuttered "Y-yeah. High standard of living?"
"That's right, since I met Susan and that kid of hers she has dried up all my savings--but it doesn't really matter. She's my wife, and I'll do my best to provide. I'm in a tight spot right now, but a smaller home should ease the tension. I need you to help me get my hands on a decent place as soon as you can. I need to get to the top of your waiting list."
"Kid?"
I cannot believe my ears. Could it be her? If so, it looks like the black widow has struck again. I just hope this poor soul in front of me won't have to sacrifice his first-born too.
"I don't really understand your concern but yeah, her daughter Danielle. So can you help me or what?" He impatiently questioned.
It took everything in me to keep from freezing in place.
I composed myself quickly and responded "Alright sir, if would be so kind as to provide me with some information, I'll get some paperwork moving along for you. I'll need full names, married and maiden, current finances and place of residence. I'll also need every detail you can provide me on your wife's daughter."
Indeed, I had found my child.
****
From the information provided to me by Susan's husband Bill, I ascertained that my daughter had been living in a small downtown apartment in St. Louis in relative isolation from her 'parents'. She spent her days tending to an old store on Russell Boulevard, not far from my own office.
I could not bring myself to approach her. Honestly, who was I to her? Would I even have a place in her life? I knew in my heart that I wouldn't be able to sleep another night without seeing her. I needed to find her.
There is an old coffee shop across the street from her old brownstone apartment that I have taken to frequent since my discovery. It only took a few days before I got my first glimpse of her. She is resoundingly brilliant, a gorgeous chestnut brunette with emerald eyes. My eyes. I remain inconspicuous to her. I fear her rejection more than death itself.
Months pass in this fashion. Every morning before I head to work, I watch her live her life. I call her store asking inane questions that any idiot could answer, just to hear her voice. She looks glorious, yet eternally solemn. Every fiber of my being longs to offer her a father's solace.
I hunger for the courage to approach her and confess, but cannot muster the strength. Months of silent observance flew by; that is until last week.
Sitting in the familiar coffee shop adjacent to her apartment as per usual, Danielle walked in, ordered a dark roast and proceeded to sit at the table behind me. I remained as calm as possible, shocked at the prospect of her proximity. I shuffled my neglected paperwork to provide the illusion of a man engulfed in his work.
"Excuse me sir, are you finished with the sugar?" Danielle said to me.
"Uh... um..." was all I could manage to divulge. I was paralyzed.
Awkwardly, she said "I didn't realize you were working, excuse me."
She looked deep into my eyes and without breaking her gaze, smiled gently and took the sugar from the edge of my table. Before she left the shop that evening she squinted hard and analyzed me once more while buttoning her well worn suede jacket. I hoped she hadn't recognized me as her follower.
She appeared in the shop again the next day looking grim and upset. Danielle did not even remove her coat as she darted to my table and sat across from me. She had a crinkled old photograph with her. Her eyes were already welled up when she arrived. She handed me the picture and placed her head on the table. It was of Susan and I posing in front of our apartment the day we moved in, those fateful years ago.
Danielle slowly lifted her head and though her sleeve and soggy tears, asked "Dad?"
I froze in her stare.
"Is that not you and my mother in the photograph? She gave this to me when I was a little girl."
My heart racing, and emotions on display, I put my arms around her and held my daughter for the first time. All this wasted time! It was too much for me to bear.
Without a word, I scrawled my phone number down for her on my coffee-ringed napkin and passed it to her before exiting the front door. It was all I could do to contain myself.
Returning from the coffee shop, I walked into my apartment and ran to press the flashing light on my phone. She had called.
My answering machine responded veraciously: "It's me; Danielle. I don't really know where to begin. This is such an overwhelming experience for me. I have felt so distant for the past few years of my life. I don't want to sound paranoid, but I'm almost certain that a strange man has been following my every shadow. I have been afraid for so long. I now can take comfort in knowing that I will have a father to protect me."
I heard this and laughed out loud.
After all this time, that man will finally walk beside her.
User Reviews
Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2005-06-21 14:14:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I remember reading this...
I loved it, and I'm pretty sure I voted for it...
Submitted by youarsoghey (user info) at 2005-01-16 11:32:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
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