CHAPTER FIFTEEN
1919 Words
Taking the DART to West End Station, Jeremy and Sharron spent the time talking and sharing stories. She told him about her brother, married and now living in Atlanta, and her sister who was going to college in Tuscaloosa. He remarked about his sister starting college in Austin in the coming autumn. It went back and forth like that the entire trip until–
“Now arriving at: West End Station,” said a spliced recording of a woman with a velvety voice. The doors slid open and Jeremy jumped up and made for the door and held it open with his body before a mad rush of commuters could stampede into the carriage. Luckily they were seated right next to them. He held a hand out to Sharron and smiled at her.
“Coming?”
Sharron took his hand and he gently guided her through the throng that was starting to flood in. She couldn’t help but notice the tingling warmth that radiated from it and up her arm. Once on the platform, Jeremy let go of her hand and crooked his arm, gallantly holding it out for her to hold onto. Without really thinking about it, she laced her arm through the loop of his and snuggled up. Even more heat boiled up within her and her face felt like it was steaming. She tugged at her jacket’s collar with her free hand.
They walked arm-in-arm down the brick-lined sidewalk with the crowd and dipped into a restaurant that was open that early in the morning a couple of blocks from the platform, a locally owned bistro with loaves of fresh looking bread in the display window. The yeasty smell wafted from the door as Jeremy held it open for Sharron. She smiled sweetly at him as she passed, pearly white teeth contrasting strongly with her burnt espresso coloring. His knees started feeling wobbly.
It was extremely warm inside, the heater kicked up to high. Dark orange walls with burnt sienna trim were covered with old black-and-white aerial photographs of Downtown Dallas from the Sixties. A very tall and well-built blond young man with a clean-shaven face and a hunter green apron gave them a friendly greeting as they entered. He looked at home as he kneaded
“Welcome! What can I get for you?” He smiled at them so widely that his eyes were thin slits.
“A moment if you would please,” Jeremy responded, reading the nametag on the blond’s massive chest. “Thanks, Morgan. Sharron? Do you know what you want?”
She studied the menu hanging over the counter. While most of what the bistro offered would set off her Celiac Disease, they did have a kosher and gluten-free menus on the far right screen. She ordered some latke and a side of bacon with a vanilla cappuccino. Jeremy ordered an egg and sausage croissant with black coffee.
After paying, Jeremy guided Shannon to a booth in the corner farthest from the entrance. They slipped out of their jackets and set them both to the side. She sipped at her tall steaming mug while looking Jeremy overy very closely, seeing every detail of his face, something she couldn’t do back at Parkland considering how dazzled he made her. He looked young. Very young. To her he looked even younger than his claimed age of twenty years. She noticed the few strands of whiskers that were hanging from his chin, but mostly his face was covered in peach-fuzz. She focused on his dark brown, almost black, eyes. They were bright and alert, always bouncing back and forth as Jeremy kept watch around the bistro.
“I can understand why you don’t frequent the shelters. So much crazy in one small space that ‘The King in Yellow’ would seem sane by comparison.”
“‘The King in Yellow?’”
“It's a novel, well a collection of stories anyways, written in the early twentieth century about a fictional play that drive anyone who reads it goes insane.”
“Oh.” She looked thoughtful. She looked around the dining room herself, noting the small croud that had come in after them. She took a college ruled notebook and pen from her backpack and started writing. After a couple of minutes, she slid it and the pen across the table to her “date.”
That sounds about right, it read in bubbly, feminine print. It’s easier to just avoid the shelters, but girl’s gotta eat. Not that they ever have anything that I can eat without problems.
“So, you have—”
She stoped him with a raised hand then picked up the pen, tapping it on the notebook before holding it out for him to take..
Jeremy raised an eyebrow before reaching for it with his left hand. Their hands grazed and she snatched her back like she had been zapped, dropping the pen in a clatter on the formica surface of the table. He quickly scratched out what he was going to say. His printed handwriting was messy and could not be constrained by the tightly spaced light blue lines, reminiscent of what you would expect from a young adolescent.
So, you have a lot of allergies then?
Yes. I’m allergic to eggs and have to eat gluten-free. It makes being on the streets very hard. I’m always hungry because I can never get enough of what I can eat from the shelters to fill me up.
I can imagine. How have you managed so far?
I haven’t. I break down and end up regretting it later as the gut pain doubles me over.
Food stamps?
Nope. I did back when I was still living close to home, but I haven’t gone to get it taken care of yet in Dallas County.
How long have you been here?
About six months. I came out here once my youngest sister left for college in Alabama.
Why didn’t you go to college?
She looked at him and shrugged.
I was too busy at first trying to keep all of us together. When the bank took our house after our parents died and my brother and sister were placed in the foster system, I wanted to stay close to them for support Now that they’ve moved on and left Texas, I felt that I should try to do the same.
Amazing! So what brought you here to Dallas, I mean, other than it being the biggest city in the region. Work?
Yep.
How’s that going for you?
She sighed as she wrote out her response.
It’s not, really. I keep putting in applications but without an address or easy way to contact me, it’s been f*****g impossible.
No phone?
Nope.
Welp, that’s f****d. You have your papers?
Luckily. I am so glad I don’t have to deal with that nightmare.
Right!?
Why are you here? You don’t sound like you’re from here.
I’m not. I’m from Kentucky, close to Louisville. I came to Dallas for the clubs and the nightlife.
He smiled at her, trying to disguise his outright lie. While Jeremy was indeed from where he said, the reason he was in Dallas couldn’t be said. He was assigned here by the Old Order soon after he was recruited within a year of dropping out of high school.
Really?
No. I came to Dallas for the same reason, work.
So, how’s that going for you?
Actually, fairly well.
At that moment, Morgan carrying the tray with their food sauntered up to the table. Sharron’s eyes bugged from surprise then she quickly flipped the notebook over before she could read Jeremy’s latest message, preventing any possible prying eyes from reading the conversation. Morgan set down three small white plates on the table and left without saying a word. Now, with a mouthful of fried potato cake, Sharron flipped her notebook back over.
What do you do?
Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that. Under-the-table gigs mostly. It keeps me fed and I like meeting new people. A new friend can be more important than anything when rough times hit, so it helps to be friendly and social. I have a question: why carry on a conversation in a notebook?
I prefer my privacy. I don’t like others knowing my business uninvited.
“That makes sense,” he said out loud. “I don’t think anyone here cares enough to butt-in though.”
Maybe, but I don’t like to tempt fate. I’ve had too many so-called friends do me dirty.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that, Shannon. Betrayal always sucks. I know. So, how’s breakfast?”
It’s wonderful, thank you! She smiled at him as he read upside-down. He smiled back when he was finished.
“You’re very welcome. I’m glad you like it. Sure you don’t need anything else?”
“I’m sure,” she answered out loud, her soft voice filled with sweetness. “Thank you though.”
“See, that wasn’t hard. You have a very pretty voice. To be expected, It matches the rest of you.”
Shannon’s face darkened as she blushed from the compliment and a ticklish feeling welled up in her middle. She tried to respond but couldn’t find her voice.
“Thank you,” she said finally once she could form the sentence. “You look nice yourself.”
“I try,” Jeremy said as his own face started to warm and turn pink. “Care to join me after this?”
“What are you going to be doing?”
“I don’t know yet,” he said. “I didn’t have any plans today, at least until I met you. There’s a couple of small parks close by if you’d like to continue our chat.”
“I think I’d like that.” Shannon, despite actually enjoying herself and Jeremy’s best efforts, was still on guard. It was going too well, and that scared the s**t out of her.
They finished breakfast in silence, but Jeremy caught her staring at him often. Every time their eyes met, she would quickly lower her eyes coyly and another blush would spread over her face. Jeremy finished his sandwich first and watched as she nibbled at what was left of her bacon. His imagination started to reel as he focused on her; memorizing every curve, every line, and pore: details that make every persons’ face distinct and uniquely their own.
His heart quickened as fantasies involving this beautiful little waif filled his mind’s eye. Inspired, he moved his leg between her’s under the table and rubbed against one of her calves. She flicked her eyes up to him when she felt him make contact; but instead the anxiety she normally had when dealing with people on this level, she felt… Well, she honestly didn’t know how she felt. She hadn’t been approached like this before, respectfully, decently. Most of the time she had to deal with catcalls from older, and in her opinion, unattractive men which was easy for her to ignore. Sometime she had to deal with the spiritual twins of the hop-heads she had dispatched the morning before.
This case was different and highly novel to her. She found Jeremy so attractive that she had to keep herself under control. Every instinct in her was screaming at her to jump over the table and kiss him deeply. It scared her, but it excited her even more.
- Writer
