For Those Who Don't Believe in Love Songs

Chapter 6 Pt 3 - Taking Her Shot

"Yeah, he had a rough game."

Helen served James his omelette and unpeeled banana.

"Thank you, Helen," James said.

"My pleasure darlin'," she replied and left.

"Yes. As long as I pay attention, I know every move he'll make before he makes it." James shook his head. "That poor kid. He hates me. Once I tried informing him of his tell. He did not appreciate it."

"No?"

"I think he felt embarrassed and patronized. In my experience, people prefer the illusion of incontrovertible self-insight."

"How's my self-insight?"

"Controvertible. So is mine, I'm sure."

"Even yours?"

"Even mine."

"The amazing Jimmy Quinn?"

He rolled his eyes and took a bite of his omelette.

She sipped her coffee then asked, "Are you playing at Berkeley?"

"Nah."

"Why not?"

"It takes up a lot of time and there's other things I want to focus on. I've played there in other lives, though. I had a couple of good runs."

"Ever make the NBA?"

"Once. Undrafted, signed as a free agent, played a total of twenty-nine games. It was brutal. I can shoot and dribble and pass, but often I was the shortest and slowest player on the court." He took a bite of his banana, chewed, swallowed then added, "Proud of the accomplishment, though."

"No doubt," she said. "Anything else?"

"Played major league baseball a couple of times. That's the only other sport I played professionally. I've tried just about everything. But I need to focus on a sport about three or four lifetimes before I build up enough skill."

"A drop in the bucket. Anything else?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Martha remembered the joy being nine and walking into a giant arcade for the first time. The building seemed unending. There were too many games to choose from. "Musical instruments?"

He paused for a moment to think, then said, "Piano, violin, string bass, guitar, trumpet, trombone, piccolo, accordion, and drums. I can pick up most anything and wing it, but that's the list of what I've mastered."

"Wow! Wait... I bet you can fight. Yeah? You're totally Chuck Norris, right?"

James rolled his eyes.

"Come on," Martha continued enthusiastically. "Gimme that list."

"I'm not giving you the list."

"Awww. But there is a list-"

"Yes."

"-of fighting styles you've mastered?"

"There is a list."

"God, that's awesome!"

He shrugged. "I guess. After a while..." He turned his head and looked out the window. Martha followed his gaze but stopped at his reflection. He continued, "Every new skill I acquire has a thinning effect on the whole... or a saturation. I don't know. Pick your metaphor." He smiled faintly in the window, its partial reflection leaving his image translucent. He sighed and turned back to Martha. "Oh well. C'est la vie... les vies, I guess."