That I Would Be Good

Chapter Eighteen

      Ferris wasn’t as perverted or weird as I had thought.  I mean he still was a little weird and not the type of person I’d typically hang out with, but not having any friends here made me not as picky with whom to be friends with.

     Once dinner/breakfast ended we walked around outside enjoying the night.

     “So tell me something you wish to do with your life,” he said, grabbing my hand and holding it.  My arm went rigged, but he soothingly rubbed my hand until I started to relax.  It wasn’t a bad feeling, a weird feeling would be the best way to describe it.

      “I don’t know…”  I paused.  I had never thought about what I wanted to do with my life.  Nothing interested me.  I couldn’t in all honesty think of anything I’d want to do with my life.  Travel wasn’t interesting.  I had no creative talents.  I was just there.  “Making a difference would be cool, I guess.  Everyone wants to do that though.”

     He cocked his head to the side thoughtfully, still holding onto my hand.  Turning his gaze to mine he answered, “True.  But only a few succeed at it though.  If it’s something you really want and the only thing you want; then there’s nothing holding you back, you know?”

     I stared at him and nodded.  I kind of understood what he was saying but not completely.  Not then, but maybe later on I would.  “That’s some deep shit.”

     He laughed loudly and soon I joined in too.  Soon we stopped and he stared at me, a weird glimmer in his eyes making me close up all over again. 

     “What?” I asked sharply trying to figure out why he was looking at me weirdly.

      “Nothing.  It’s just the first time I ever seen and heard you laugh and smile… and it was nice.  You have a cute laugh.”  He poked my nose with the hand that was not holding my own, and chuckled.  I scrunched my nose at him and turned away a little embarrassed.

      “So my dear Elodey, would you like to explain to me what tragedy has happened in your life that makes you not laugh or smile as much as the average human?” He lifted an eyebrow in question, and I mirrored his eyebrow.

     “Just because someone laughs or smiles doesn’t necessarily mean they mean it.”   

      “True, but you meant it back there, and you never smile or laugh; not even a fake one.  So what’s the tragedy?”  he persisted.  We stopped at a crosswalk waiting for the little man to light up and tell us it was alright to cross without getting hit by traffic.

       I waited until we were walking again.  I told myself I wasn’t talking right away because I didn’t want people to overhear what I was about to tell him, but I was kidding myself.  I just didn’t want to tell him.  It was personal and I barely knew the guy. 

     “I’ll tell you another time, maybe.”  He nodded and we kept walking, making the same small talk we had through dinner.

***

     When I got back that night, Dolores was still clicking away at her typewriter.  Stewie was asleep in his little doggie basket.  Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge I headed to Dolores’s study.  I wanted to see how she was doing.  I figured she would be pissed I was out later than I should have been, but she’d get over it.  Like she did everything.

     “Why you back so early?  I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow,” she grumbled not looking up.  The room was filled with cigarette smoke, making my eyes burn and lungs feel heavy.  I coughed and tried waving some of the smoke out of my face, but sadly failed.