Excesses              

1447 wds

     The resident of apartment two offered his neighbor, the resident of apartment three, a ride to the grocery store for, he thought, a very good reason; she appeared to be ‘available.’ They met on the landing outside their doors and saw the canvas bags they both carried emblazoned with the same store name.  

“Are we going to the same grocery store?”

"Let's go together!"

He drove. She had no car.  Mildly uneasy with him, an almost complete stranger, and thinking he might ‘move in’ on her, she created a fictitious boyfriend. He was away, she told him, working on the south coast devastated by a hurricane and making ‘big bucks.’ The young woman was so energetic the resident of apartment two was glad to arrive, park and prepare to leave the vehicle. 

"Go on in," he said. Her flood of conversation stopped. He was looking out the window at a woman stooping under the raised hatch back of a car and loading bags of groceries. 

"I have to speak to this person," he said, "I don't want to. I have to. I'll catch up with you inside."

“Okay.”

They parted, she walked into the store, he approached to the woman loading groceries. She looked up at him and smiled. Her smile was tense. Sudden tension tightened her shoulders. 

"Hello," he said, but didn't extend his hand.

"Hey, how are you?" she said.

“Fine. Reading any good stories lately?”

“Oh, no, i haven’t got to that yet.”

To his ear she sounded more guilty than sorry. “I see,” he said.

She sighed, “You know, Thanksgiving and then Christmas, i still have it on a pile of papers. Seems like i haven't been doing anything except, you know, being a mom."

This was a score for her ~ her daughter her biggest responsibility in life and he was certain the girl disliked him. Her daughter appeared to dislike everything and this would include all the other men in her life including her supposedly permanent ‘partner.’ 

"You still have the stamped envelope?"

"Oh, sure, i still have it, i'll read it, i promise."

"Good, it means a lot to me."  

Their one night together meant as much and more, to him; a lot less to her, it seemed. That weekend with her partner out of town, he thought, was her opportunity to collect his affection and with it boost her self-confidence and empower herself to control that partner. He had come slowly to this grim conclusion.

The night felt like the beginning of something incredible to him. It was in fact the end of a friendship and a job opportunity and more. She decided they could only be friends. He might work on her house, he might continue practicing yoga in her yoga class ant hey might go for a walk on the river trail now and then, but that’s it, that’s as close as she allowed. 

It was insufficient; it irritated him so much he could not look in the direction of her house. He decreed it; there would be no more dancing, no more working on her house (he was a writer and a carpenter), attending her yoga sessions, taking walks by the river, unless they revived that passion. All things he imagined them doing together; all over now.  He told himself he would have it all and no other way. She said no.

After a short period of mourning, he devised a new way to approach her; he had written a children’s story so he asked her to read it and give him a b opinion. It was something she and her daughter could both enjoy. 

All the world ~ the small circle of friends they had in common, seemed to think her relationship with this partner was of the master /slave type. The world usually shrugs when it happens. People seek their own natural level in life as in love. If she refused to be emancipated by him she was lost. There was no other solution, no other path. 

On the day he delivered the manuscript of his children’s story to her they stood in her back yard garden talking. It was a warm and sunny, he waited for the right moment to speak, it came and described how it was with a couple he said he knew. In fact, he was talking about her and her partner. 

Here is how he said it; “Only a general outline of relationships we are outside of is clear. When you look at how people live together truth is hard to pin down. Two people refusing to be either master or slave is the solution to problems of the heart,” he told her. “There must be trust and confidence when power is shared. The goal is cultivation, not control. In our modern, advanced society physical abuse has been replaced by mental abuse.” 

She listened, silent, until he finished talking and said, "That's very smart. I wonder about that. I’ll have to think about that one." He thought she would apply his ideas to her own situation. It would grow in her and she would reform her living situation. Seeing her partner for master and herself as slave she would correct her situation, and maybe she did, without him. 

Later there was bad news. The children’s story, her daughter said, was ‘all right.’ That means she disliked it because all right was a way of saying nothing. How did she herself like it? I haven’t had a chance to read it, she said. She paused, “I mean, and deeply ponder it, as i must.” 

She said she would outline her reactions soon and send them, yet even with the self addressed, stamped envelope (they lived two city blocks apart) he gave her, she never replied.

The silent weeks added up without a letter. He grew suspicious; did she believe he would not send the story to a publisher until she expressed her opinion and thus force him to wait? Was it a power game? People with low self-esteem do this. He placed the power of judgment in her hands; he let her rule him. If true, it worked and he was still waiting, extremely annoyed.  Now in the parking lot he felt small and rejected. 

“I need it soon, your thoughts mean a lot to me.  I have a publisher interested in it (not true) and what if there’s one thing wrong with it that i missed. Could be that one thing makes all the difference.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” she said. “I think you should go ahead and send it out. I really don’t think what i think would make much difference. Go on. i really don’t; have eth time now.”

     He was stunned, his rejection complete. 

As she later wrote in her diary, “He was gray around the gills when i said it.”After writing this she shelved her diary, found the manuscript of his story and threw it away. She already had enough bosses in her life. The end of that one. 

On the asphalt she stepped back and closed the hatch back of her car. He looked like he would melt; she had to say something. 

"Who was that in the car i saw you with?” she asked, intentionally too perky. “Are you seeing someone new?"

The question irked him, he felt anger growing; he had to get away. To save what little he could save of his self respect he said, "Oh no, she's my ex-wife; we have to deal with each other now and then. It's truly awful."

"She looked young."

"She is younger than me." Shocked, he realized his neighbor was very much younger and how can that fit? 

Their rickety, hollow conversation, stood nakedly revealed; she smiled, he shuddered and ducked away saying, “It was nice to see you” which was exactly the opposite of how he felt.  

He found his neighbor in the produce section. 

"Sorry to cut you loose like that, but i dislike that person and try to make our conversations short."

"Why do you talk to her at all?"

He observed her grin and happy eyes and wanted to run away from her, from everything, but he had given her a ride to the store, he couldn't leave her there.  

"She's my ex-wife. We don't get along but we have to see each other. It's all very ugly but we still have to deal with each other. It’s about the kids." 

"That makes it hard, the kids."

"It does, very hard."

"And how many kids do you have?"

Suddenly he was tasked to name, age and briefly describe two or more children, of which he had none.        

end of “Excesses”