John’s Long Journey Into Night by Doc Nolan

                                                John’s Long Journey into Night – Part One

John wouldn’t normally have gone to his high school reunion – but it had been a rough year.  It wasn't so much that Margaret had divorced him; it wasn't that he hadn't suspected she’d been running around. He had.  But the shock of discovering the guy was his boss was a gut-kicking experience.  When he was ‘let go’ for ‘productivity issues’ shortly afterwards John’s remaining self-esteem crumbled.  It took months of never leaving his house (she’d moved out, thank god) before he began to recover.  Maybe eating his own cooking was the reason he decided he couldn’t go on as a hermit.  When the invitation/announcement arrived, he simply said ‘fuck it, I’m going!

The reunion was only a five hour drive away, so he decided to just hop in his aging Toyota MR-2,  throw a small black duffel bag onto the empty right-front,  and hit the highway.  Living on savings and having the house paid off made it easy.  John was free.  John was also incredibly lonely.

The Friday night ‘let’s get reacquainted mixer’ didn’t help.  He recognized some folks who he’d hoped wouldn’t be there.  Then there were the overweight guys that he knew that he should know – but didn’t’.  A few of the women were hot – and all were accompanied by men who looked as if they could give Donald Trump a run for his cash – and his tasteless flash.  Noooo.

 John desperately looked around for anyone familiar.  The only face he was sure of was Leonore – but she had always been ‘out of his league’ -- as well as quite controversial.  She had dated college men as a high school sophomore, and got suspended twice as a senior for reasons never divulged.

He noticed she had shed her signature deerskin boots with the fringes on top as well as the low cut silk blouse and skin tight jeans.  She fit in with her newer,  more conventional look.  “What the hell,” he thought.  “I’m here; might as well say hello to someone.”  He approached.  He realized he probably should have been wearing something fancier than his loafers, navy jacket (with brass buttons), tan slacks, striped tie, and powder blue dress shirt.   “Too late now,” thought John.

“Hi Leonore!” She turned, looked at him with a puzzled look and then said, “Uh, John? Or is it Bill?” “John”, he replied. He knew he needed to say something ‘appropriate’ so he said, “Nice event, isn't?”  She looked him straight in the eye, and let a smile cross her face. “No it is not.  It sucks.  It’s a fucking bore!”  John didn’t know what the appropriate response to that was.  He didn’t say anything, searching his memory bank for something (anything!) to say.

She followed it up.  “I remember you.  The guy in Calculus 1.  You used to do Jane Morley’s homework for her.  She flunked the course anyway.  I guess you sucked as a math teacher.  Do you work as a math whiz or something now?”

“Uh, no… I used to be in marketing, but uhh… I’m between jobs now.”
 
She looked into his eyes.  “Got fired, huh?  Fucking the boss’s wife?”  John felt his blood rising and his face turning red.  “Actually Leonore, my boss was fucking my wife… and then the firm let me go.”

She laughed.  “What a coincidence!”  There was a pause. “Maybe she put in a good word for you there.”  John simply grimaced and faked a smile.  A dead silence seemed best.

She spoke first. “Let’s get the hell out of here, John.  This sucks. And frankly I’m curious about your wife … ex-wife I mean … and your boss.  Do you have any problem with that?”

John didn’t.  She dressed a lot more demurely than when she was in high school, but she seemed to have as much or more ‘attitude’ than ever.  Again she spoke first, “We’re taking my car, and we’re going to my apartment.  You and I John are going to have a party.  Understand?”

Actually he did not.  But he nodded.  What else could he do?  He thought of the Aimee Mann song, “The Moth”.  He was the moth; she was the flame. He might get burned but he was in the game.

John sat in the front, thinking the whole time, “What have I gotten myself into now?”  Leonore was one aggressive driver and several times John felt his foot instinctively slamming down on an absent brake pedal.   He wasn't in control now.

“Hey, John, did I tell you I have house-guests?”  He gulped as they pulled into the driveway of a very nice and expensive looking home.  In the dark he noticed the flickering gas lamps flanking the front doorway.  “Uh, no…”  Leonore turned to him as she parked the BMW in the driveway.  “John, you’re here because you’re interested in me, aren't you?”  “Yes!”  “Well I’m interested in you too, John – but probably not for the same reason as you’re interested in me.” He replied, “Maybe”.  She grinned.  “You just fucked up twice, John.

Let’s start with how you speak to me.  First rule:  I really, really like it when you say, “Yes, Miss” and not just ‘yes’. Do you understand?”

He replied: “Yes… I mean, yes, miss”.
 
She looked at him sharply, but only for an instant.  “Now for the second item. Ready?”

“I guess.  Uh, I guess so, Miss….I mean”.

She smiled.  “OK…. If you don’t like what I’m gonna tell you, it’s your problem – and yes I’ll drive you back to mix with the ‘bores’.  But somehow I don’t think you’re gonna say that, boy.”  She paused.  John noticed the word boy.  Damn, did she have that right!  He felt as if he were back in high school, screwing up answering simple questions in math --while the smart girls laughed at his incompetence.

Leonore went on.  “My friends are here for two weeks.   You know Mandy – well maybe not -- but you should remember her.  Anyway she’s here with her husband.  They only got married six months ago, and as well as I know Mandy, I thought it would be fun to have her come visit. Do you understand?”

John didn’t.  OK, he was going to meet a couple.  Why all the mystery?

Leonore continued, noting the puzzled look on John’s face.

“I, John, am not your normal cup of tea.  Neither is Mandy.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, Miss.”

“Good, you remembered to say ‘miss’!” said Leonore. She reached over and held his hand.  It was warm.  She had long fingers and an elegant floral pattern on each of her recently manicured fingernails.  (John wondered…. Should he be thinking of her as Miss Leonore?  Whatever.)  She did not remove her hand.

“Mandy got married to Phil because he is a special sort of man.  And Mandy and I have similar tastes in our men.  Here’s the bottom line, John.  When you come into my house, I am the one who makes the rules.  Also, you are to keep your mouth shut, no matter what, until and unless I – or Mandy – choose to speak to you.  And finally, you keep your eyes on me and me alone as long as you’re in my house.  Understood?”  John nodded.  “And accepted?”  John nodded again.

“When we walk into my living room I will sit on my sofa and I want you to sit on the floor in front of me.  Do you have any problem with that?”  John thought, ‘This is getting weirder and weirder!’  Then he looked at Leonore’s face.  He remembered her as she was in high school.  Then she’d seemed like an unattainable mixture of dream and nightmare.  Now – something had changed.  He finally hit on it.  She seemed comfortable in her own skin, as the saying went.  And somehow she seemed to be in quiet and self-confident control.  Calm and disciplined.  He realized that she had evolved from girl to woman.

He also realized he’d changed too.  The problem was that he’d changed from nerd to broken divorcee with a major loneliness issue.  Worse, he’d lost his compass and was desperate for some kind of new direction.  He suddenly realized why he’d accepted Leonore’s invitation:  She knew what he was good for – and he himself was clueless, adrift, and searching for something.  Perhaps meaning.

“Wake up, John,” said Leonore as she realized he was dreaming.  “Follow me.  And don’t you say one damn thing in there except “Good evening.”

Leonore led.  John followed.  She opened the door, walked into the marble-floored foyer, and shouted, “I’m home,” kicking off her shoes and tossing them into the corner.   She gestured for John to follow.  He did.  Leonore turned to watch his face as they rounded the corner into the living room.

John’s eyes grew large.  On the couch sat an insanely attractive blonde naked from the waist up.  She had a bowl of grapes on her lap; a glass of wine teetered on the arm of the sofa.  That wasn't the reason John froze.

In front of the woman – obviously Mandy – there were two very large metal dog cages.  And inside one was – a man.

Mandy turned to him and said, very simply, “Hello!”

He was almost but not quite tongue-tied.  A flicker of something came to mind as he mechanically remembered his bit-part line, “Good evening.” He turned to look at Leonore, his brain now totally shot.  Suddenly he blurted out the only thing in his consciousness.  “Miss Mandy!”

Leonore grinned and then simply said, “Good.  You remembered!  Now, John, go get me a glass of Merlot, too.  The bottle and glass are on the kitchen counter over there.”

“Yes, Miss,” he said – as firmly as he could.  Mandy giggled.  It didn’t matter.  John simply did as he was told.

                                                                                            [To be continued….]