Love in Chippstown

Second: Meet at the Viewpoint

The following day was not like any other from the night before. I was still thinking about the kiss, pretty much every second of every minute to a certain point that I had forgotten what I was actually doing. It was hard to erase that gorgeous face so close to me so easily and I always felt that soft, wet lips around mine. I regret not getting his phone number when we all had that time strolling around the dead neighbourhood. How and where could I see him again?

It wasn’t twenty-four hours yet since the kiss happened, so it was a bit plausible that the incident was still fresh in my head. I head out of my room after I did what I had to do to freshen up myself for another day only to find Dad on the sofa with his legs crossed and arms extended on the top of the backrest, looking rather narky than his usual face every morning. Never wanted to see that early morning, yet I had to deal with everything with him since I lived in his house. I immediately sensed what was wrong. I wasn’t much in the mood to argue about it, so I drifted to the kitchen and, just as I was about to open the first cupboard that my hand reached, I heard my name echoed across the room, “Jack!”

No response from me echoed in the kitchen. It would be a surprise to me if I did. Dad had this rather annoying attitude where he questioned everything I did towards non-related work activities. You could suppose I didn’t have a private life back then, and, good man, that was the most distressing years of my life.

Anyway, he tailed me to the kitchen with the same call, only raising the narky tone to express his feeling of disrespect from me, “Jack!”

“Dad, I was out with the lads, all right!” I turned my back in exasperation, directly looking at him in the eyes, answering the unvoiced question. It was the truth, after all. I then marched to the kitchen sink to open the tap and wet my hands in an attempt to busy myself and get out of the conversation. Yet, alas, how could such a conversation end when we’re just two inside this dead home? I wasn’t even conscious of myself when I did that rather poor attempt.

“Out with the lads, I know!” Dad returned, widening his eyes and pointing all his fingers to the doorway between the kitchen and the sitting room. Glad he was informed and that wasn’t the words I was awfully dread to hear, yet he added, “But you’ve forgotten to track your time, mate!”

I was unsure of what he meant, however, I remarked without a delay, “Yes, but now I’m here, am I not?”

“And the box?” sneered Dad.

Right, the box! There was this box he asked me to take from the Smithson’s containing a lot of early 80’s music tapes, mostly from the band Queen, Radiohead and even The Beatles. Dad really fancied music a lot before and he’d die without having those cassettes, especially since those were given free.

Now, I realized why my dad almost ate me alive this morning. I was supposed to obtain them from Smithson’s residence before six-thirty – before the owner of the cassette tapes left their premise for work. And, looking at the clock, it was fifteen past seven.

I looked at Dad, ashamed for forgetting the thing I signed up for in exchange for that stupid party, really. Nonetheless, I wasn’t still into continuing that conversation, so, after one look and without a word, I stormed out of the kitchen area and took my jacket, ready to go wherever but here. Dad followed me out appalled and was obviously waiting for me to say something. And I did so with a calm tone when I was fully prepared and when I opened ajar the front door, “I’ll try and get those for you, Dad. I’m sorry.”

There was no point in taking those, really, but I actually felt apologetic for failing to get his cassettes. And it was a lie to tell Dad that I’d still try getting those despite the time. I merely said it to get out of the house before he lectured me again about all those sacrifices he had made for me and for my brother and why should I not stop working at this early stage of my life. I loathed it back then every time I got reminded that I had a position in that rather poor company where my dad used to work for our living. And I used to tell myself, sometimes to someone I know, how I wanted to get out of Dad’s mad work and start on my own.

All like before since childhood, there was nothing to fancy around the cold neighbourhood. Hence, my steps were faster and my eyes were directly straight. I met the frosty weather, but it wasn’t an acceptable reason to regret going out of that house. It was mid-November.

After those rather blank minutes of walking and walking, I didn’t have any idea where I wished to stop my feet. What only had in mind was the same kiss that that stranger strangely gave me yesterday night and the question of where to find him next. I had hopes that we’d see each other again, knowing that Chippstown was a small town. I just hoped that it would come sooner than I expected. I wanted that mature face and brunette hair in front of my eyes once more.

Suddenly, I found myself atop the town, not literally. I’ve always seen those gaffs smaller from this point but I had never foreseen myself getting back to this place.

I called the place the Viewpoint. I stood amid a rather middling high bridge yet below wasn’t something we all expected besides the minute size of the town. There was neither a river nor a small lake spotted. Perhaps, it used to have, but, looking down, it was all just dirt, boulders and a few carpets of greeny-thingy that I suppose grasses that tried to outshine the rough greyish boulders. And there were some trees, too. Five or nine if I counted them correctly (only those on the riverbed). The place was a part of Chippstown, nevertheless, these rocky mountains were assuredly unexplored by many because of how dangerous their shape looked. And I should also admit that those dangerous shapes brought satisfaction to my eyes, especially whenever the sun was setting and the orange illuminated the edges of those mountains. The echoing notes from those birds in the distance added depth to the view. A depth I couldn’t even precisely describe.

Sure, I knew I wasn’t the only one who got to see this magnificent view, but who was to stop me from naming this place whichever I desired? After all, I did have zero companions every time I came here. And it was all I ever hoped for every visit I had. But on that particular morning, it was the first time I had a company.

While I gaze upon those mountains, trying to find the horizon below the sun, the incoming sound of steps grew larger in my ears. I looked left immediately to check, and I was astounded to see a rather familiar face. And he was, too! Yet, I did my utmost best to hide my current emotions. I looked at him fixedly, resisting my legs from rushing towards him.

Owen paused his feet the moment we caught each other’s gaze. Then, his lips began to curl up to a smile, along with his eyes, replacing the surprised face he had. I followed the same expression without any control of my muscles, and, the soon as I made it, he was standing right before me. We were close again, just as I had hoped.

“I thought I’d never see you again…” he started the talking with the words exactly what I had in mind since the kiss. Those were also the same words I was about to tell him. There was still a smile on his face. I believe, too, I sensed relief in his tone. He, then, pressed on a minute later as he turned his head on the town, partly embarrassed this time, “…after what happened last night.”

So unsure how to respond to those words, I, too, moved my eyes away from him and then to the mountains, but I never wore off the bright and hope on my face. I took deep breaths, wishing he’d say something more that I could easily reply to. Unfortunately, there was none other than my visible breaths. It really was my turn to speak. With my hands still hiding my jacket’s pockets, my whole body faced Owen, and when he turned too, I began to open my mouth without any certainty if I should say continue, “Listen, I-I don’t mind doing that again.” I brought up a big, genuine smile, but never it would cover the red cheeks I had. “You know.”

No doubt, Owen knew what I meant. And after he looked me straight in the eyes for a hot second and returned the smile with a bigger and happier one, he came close to me again, grabbed my pink cheeks and pulled them towards him for another kiss that I never resisted this time. I responded with pleasure – with my bare hands running behind his neck and shoulder. My hands were freezing, and so did my body, but merely with our lips passionately working together, I felt warm. Electrocuted, even. I didn’t imagine that this moment was going to happen again, but the feeling was ineffable.