Adonis Diaries

Posts Tagged ‘fleur de peau

Jane or love innuendos : A mostly fiction short story, (July 25, 2009)

I was signing my latest book at “Barnes & something” somewhere in New York City.  I had decided to transform these utterly boring sessions into enjoyable events:  The insufferable planners and organizers were created for wrecking my nerves out of jealousy.  I had decided to invest an average of two minutes chatting with every fan who came for an autograph:  My intention is giving the impression that they were visiting with me at the library. 

Gorgeous women were submitted to over three minutes of investigations; women flooded with perfume not to my liking, were thanked with a polite smile and meeting cut short: it is good business to learn to smiling.

I recognized a tall figure in the line, but I failed to localize the circumstances: time is a vicious enemy and it does affect beauty of the body.  I reckon time affects the spirit far worse, but people do not communicate long enough to find out.  As her turn came, she hesitated for two seconds before giving her name; I sensed that she was hoping that I’ll recall her name too.  She simply said “Jane?”.  It dawned on me like a thunderbolt.

I roomed at her 90 years old mother while studying at the university. Jane mother was even then a tall, svelte, beautiful, and kind senile woman.  It was not Jane who hired me to stay with her mother, sort of just having someone there close by for emergency sake.   Heck, I was not even paid; I paid rent for a room in a smelly house.  I even had to take so many crap from two of the seven or eight grown up “children” gone for lovelier and greener pastures.  I could have been older than gorgeous Jane by a couple of years at the time, but she looked and behaved far more mature: she was no longer a student, no matter how high was the degree I was shooting for.

I signed “Jane H” and looked up for the correct last name. Jane was surprised and had a slight semi-victorious smile.  She said “Jane H will do”.  I resumed my dedication “It feels stronger when love is shyly declared; no need to insert direct explicit “love” words for expressing friendly felt inclinations.”

I vividly recall sending Jane a feedback letter on her mother’s conditions; one of the paragraphs was a bare innuendo of love declaration, smartly injected within how a mother is missing her girl.  I am devoid of sensibility and lack imagination; with Jane, I somehow felt that my mysterious and tumultuous “love couched sentence” will drive Jane home. 

Jane replied a week later reminding me of that paragraph. The next week, Jane visited her mother from Santa something, maybe Santa Maria, in Northern California. I would love to get a copy of that paragraph: I must have been a good sneaky writer even then.

Jane went out on her evening jogging and returned to rub her feet with lotion.  I am crazy with strong large women feet; with athletic gable.  Jane demanded that I join her for a walk.  I dreaded that moment: I knew Jane needed direct and definite answers.  Writing is so much easier than face to face verbal challenges; especially in love matters; especially for me who lacks verbal intelligence.

In the first few steps Jane rushed right to her point; I valiantly avoided the question; I played it dumb which was not far from reality. I went on to state how confused I was; how I had no idea why I decided to resume my higher education and oh, how miserable I feel.

After I finished the dedication sentence, I looked up at Jane who was beaming with relief from the inside:  Confirmation of a doubt and revenge are always welcomed emotions to most people. I invited Jane to stay for the dinner party after the signing ceremony.  Jane needed five interminable seconds to nod: Closure was overpowering for her.  I can live without closure. 

You think that behavior changes with time; I was no longer kidding myself; I knew that my verbal intelligence was deteriorating at a fast pace.  I decided to learn mingling the hard way; I will obey my editor’s representative immediately.

Lillie, the editor’s representative, was a striking beauty and her frequent gazes at me convinced me that, definitely, we had a date after the official dinner. I told Lillie “I don’t know much of New York by night. I am terribly lazy for planning.  Would you arrange for a night out, just the two of us? You decide for the location of your predilection”  What else could I say? I forgot the American slang; as so many other formal words.

The general dinner was served in an empty restaurant with plenty of space; drinks were reflecting individual moods.  Lillie was greedy with her body heat: she kept her distance from me.  A man with haphazard hair (shaggy?) sat by me, and was highly interested in the Near East problems. He wanted confirmation that Palestine is the Jewish Homeland.  I replied: “You mean that before Palestine the Jews were living in a no-man’s land? That after they were transferred hundreds of years ago they still were living nowhere?” 

General history is stupid.  History book say that when a conqueror entered a town, people fled (connoting that they never returned to their villages and towns).  How far do you think common people could walk?  They just vanished for a couple of weeks for the frenzy soldiers to cool down from killing and looting.  Common people returned to their shelters in their villages, where do you think they would go?

Modern genocides, still an ongoing process in most region on Earth, forced the common people very far, with the understanding that they may never return to their habitat.  The Palestinians in 1948 fled with the understanding that they are returning within a couple of weeks: The UN promised that return.  Over 64 years later, Palestinians in refugee camps are amassing on the borders with Israel (in Lebanon, the Golan Heights, the West Bank, and Gaza), carrying the Palestinian flags in peaceful demonstrations, chanting: “We want to return to our lands”.  Israeli troops and snipers opened fire on the demonstrators and killed over 60 Palestinians and seriously injured 500  in two week-ends!

The man with crazy hair got heated and blubbered something of a God-given or assigned nation for the Jews.  I replied that the concept of nation is a new concept fabricated by the colonial powers to dividing the spoil and to fictitious increase of the number of their citizens by expanding their borders, until determined confrontations stabilized the limits. The colonial powers inforced that concept by all kinds of coercive means.

I went on: “The Zionists ideology was an idea of the time and found its expression in Palestine against all odds, and by using the British colonial ruthless means and with their blessings.”

Jane joined us and grabbed my arm and offered an excuse for an important private matter.  I was glad for the first second, and then terribly worried the next second.  Jane claimed that I read minds. I retorted: “I don’t read the mind. You speak so loudly to yourself; I can almost hear you.  You speak a “fleur de peau”, kind of skin deep at best”.  Jane said: “Well, were you in love with me?”  I guess I was in the driving seat this evening and in a chatting mood. I replied: “At that period, you looked beautiful, healthy, dedicated, and determined. I was relatively ugly, short, confused, miserable, and I needed you.  If I were a somehow handsome and tall guy, then I am certain that you would have commanded me to follow you. The handsome guy might not have obeyed, but I, the not so handsome guy, would have at that time.  At least, to have the opportunity to travel to California and rediscover the milder weather”.

Lillie decided to make her move as our body gestures worried her that the conversation might drag on.  Lillie approached with her tequila sunrise glass; I like tequila if you skip the sunrise, but my acute thirst asked for a sip.  I had this quick idea (they are many, but far delayed in real-time) of selecting the location of Lillie’s purple lipstick stain on the glass and had a sip and gently gurgled.  Jane said: “How romantic” I said “I like to spread Lillie’s beneficial germs”.  I made a surreptitious exit with Lillie.  I was standing tall; I felt tall that night.

Note: This is mostly a fictitious story, but the feelings were not?




January 2023

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