Got To Be Good-looking ('cause he's so hard to see)

~41~

Clare

Days sped by and the little cottage was finally repaired, I slipped back into the rooms while Cappy was at his mysterious mate's place.

I had, amazingly, finished two full sets of lyrics and had most of the chords on my guitar worked out but the music still swirled, alive in my limbs. Banging to get out of my skull and humming noisily through my bones.

The vibrations of sound wanting release but all I could do was write down musical instruments I thought I wanted to use in the song- drums, electric guitars, might have to use a synthesiser for a change, they were new and flashy and I wasn't much of a fan to date but this; This needed electricity in its sound.

We had made love again, it wasn't just sex it was sweet, ecstasy. An awakening inside of what I could be, maybe what I was already. What maybe... we could be.

He though, still hadn't given me any new information openly. Oh I had collected teardrops of clues as they metamorphised around me. But nothing concrete.

Yet still I was not able to lay a finger directly on the blurry spot which I could not touch or see. I felt ideas and ideals forming; I just hoped I wasn't right on some and completely correct on others...

He really, really liked chocolate but hinted he had been strict, not on a diet, but strict with his intact of types of food for the last few years.

A son or sons perhaps- it was something he said about family generations and life.

We agreed on music type and artists.

He seemed shy to me here but was top of the food chain at the same time, weird.

Couldn't drive the car properly it's had two new dings in it since I last drove down here. He wasn't going to get his deposit back, that's for sure.

Had two or three treasured mates that he was trying to reconnect with, the Scottish one being the first getting the visit.

Wore glasses about the cottage but didn't like wearing them much. Had another different pair too and a pair of aviator sunnies he lost in the mess on the floor of the coupe.

Could make bread.

Couldn't buy smokes. I'd brought two cartons and they were dwindling because he was a hopeless shopper.

He had a wedding ring shadow on his finger.

He doodled on everything, even got in the back of my journal when I was asleep drawing weird stick figures, one with a beard- him and a leggy boobed one. He reckons it was me but leggy?

And he said I quote 'was in three movies' WOW three movies! A movie star but you would think he could get his hands on a better disguise than the current atrocity!

And! And he wrote a lovely line in my journal just above 'my' stick (haha) figure:

Love is a flower you got to let it, you gotta let it grow

Linda never came back around. We had planned to go to the beach sunbaking and devour many nice shots of liquor. But I would see her Thursday afternoon I guess and she's busy with kids, Paul, and the zoo.

Reaching for a muffin, this time apple cinnamon. (There were two on the plate the rest shoved in the freezer) I'm not that stupid to think I have that much self-control.

I went to take a bite but I was interrupted by yelling, then feet stomping and finally the door being opened forcefully.

"Hi Cap!" I glanced back down at the journal and turned a leaf to a clean new page for my mind to load with feelings or nothing, who knows where the mind will wander today. I murmured a line of a song as I pushed the spine flat "where it willll goooOo, where it will goooo"

He gave me a strange strangled look of fear then dropped that and went back to default grumpy guy again "Don't 'Hi Cap' me what's the meaning of this"

"Well I'm eating a muffin in my kitchen. There's no higher meaning, no cosmic revelation it is what it is- food equals eat"

"Don't be daff you moved out of me cottage"

"And you just answered all your questions right there"

"But-"

"But nothing I paid for my cottage. I use my cottage" I'd been a bit sad as I was moving out but it was his holiday too. He didn't need me taking over the shower or cluttering and destroying his kitchen. I took a bite and pointed happily at my, surprisingly delicious, muffin. He slumped down at the table banging his head then looked up for a few seconds then banged his head on the table again.

"Listen John. You obviously came here to this place for a reason. I'm in the way of your mind doing a spring clean and all that. Same with me, though you have helped, well at first you were a right royal pain in the bum but now, this thing, this 'dynamic' of ours is great and I'm really grateful"

He just stood up and walked out, no words, no puppy dog eyes, no groaning or moaning. Nothing. I was suddenly feeling utterly bereft and my heart sank to my toes.