6. DON'T IT MAKE MY GREEN EYE'S BLUE
Most are in agreement that walking is the best exercise in the world and rightly so. But what they fail to mention is that if you have no clue on pacing yourself or whatever else goes into the strategic fore-planning of speed walking - or walking in general – there can be dire consequences. If you are not used to stretching your legs, for what felt like was an infinity, then it will take a toll – your limbs will feel like they are being ripped apart in a slow and torturous fashion and it is as if your stomach has taken a rather large and hard beating.
Well, that summed up my physical state at the time. Although, this saying was not without a reason, because it felt very therapeutic and given the fact that I had more than the average share of therapy sessions behind me, one can rest assured as my opinion was more than reliable.
Nonetheless, I wandered through the morning with nothing but the sound of the odd birds here and there – though, if I strained my ears, I could separate out the gentle hustle and bustle of animals going about their everyday routines. That was until the unnecessarily loud horn of a car terrified the living daylights out of them and caused them to scuttle away in different directions.
After the realisation of my new-found privileges sunk in, it further dawned on me that no self-respecting person would possibly be awake at this time of the morning so after taking a couple of dodgy turns, I eventually found my way into the central high street. Glancing around for anything open and coming up empty at this ungodly hour, I decided to grasp at the rare opportunity of a Manchester evening with room to breathe and just sightsee, letting sheer human curiosity be my only guide. That night, sheer human curiosity led me to the Town Centre.
It was a nice experience; no one was out. On the off chance, you could catch a couple of old veterans cruising the streets with their dogs, and I all but sighed in relief when I saw that they were on tight leashes, but I wasn’t going to take any chances and made sure to walk on the other side of the road.
After surviving that near-fatal encounter, I spotted a large park nearby and decided that since it was daylight, I shouldn't need to hesitate on the grounds of coming across any more drunkards or that there would be any kind of danger looming behind faded shadows. As I neared, my eyes zeroed in on the unarguable centre-piece of the park – a sizeable lake decorated with swans and ducks gliding across it at their own leisurely pace.
I spent a lot of time there, occupying myself with searching the outskirts of the pond and underneath benches for forgotten bread pieces. When I was satisfied with my collection, I crossed the board-walk and sat with my legs folded over and underneath each other, and threw the pieces of bread to my grateful audience.
It was as if someone had injected me into another person's body but as the light wind wisped against
my face, I knew it could make the angriest of people feel serene. Maybe it was the world’s way of warning me of what lay ahead; the calm before the storm.
Guessing that I may kill these defenceless creatures from overfeeding them and that getting a sentence slapped in my face the very next day I got out would be too idiotic of a move for any court to show mercy to, I got up and carried on with my thought provoking walk. Walking for a good hour or two, I somehow managed to follow all the signs and before I knew it, I caught Jason’s House in eye distance.
As I approached Jason and Emilie’s drive way, I couldn’t help but let dark thoughts cloud my mind, but they went as quick as they came, because I knew whatever happened in there I was going to conquer. I had no room for ifs or buts or no’s. I was sick of no’s.
It was my way or the high way. Meaning no other way at all.
Whilst my sight did a quick once-over of my surroundings, I saw that their car was still in the driveway...only, alongside it were the cars of every neighbouring abode. It hit full-in-the-face that today was Saturday. My guess was that if Blake was still around and deemed a verbal assault not enough of a way to capture and express his extreme loathing of me, he would be more than happy to chuck me out and make a show of things because almost definitely, we would have a large audience to sing to.
Before I knew it, my feet had carried me forwards and I was on the front step of the door. Thinking I would cleverly avoid the whole spectacle from the outset, I tried my luck and, would you have it, twisted the door handle, watching in awe and glee as it opened itself. Huh, they should really keep a lock on these things, any one could walk in. But I’m guessing this isn’t on the black list as a high crime area.
Making sure to shut the door as stealthily as I came in, I crept towards the living room but stopped suddenly when the sounds of loud chatter and laughter made its way to my ears. Suddenly weary if I was even missed or if any of them even acknowledged of my disappearance, I began to rehash my whole plan. Hell, I hadn’t even considered the fact that they may have changed their minds and decided I wasn’t worth the time and effort they would be putting in.
When thoughts of me wanting to bash my head against something hard and painful evaded my mind, I suppose that I was too preoccupied, to even hear the bathroom door shut or the heavy stampede of footsteps descending the stairs.
I turned around, wanting to get the hell out of here before someone spotted me, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw something or someone that had my plans coming forcefully to an immediate halt.
Before me, all tall and mighty, was Blake, who was stood with his neck at an awkward angle - which given the fact that his head touched the base of the staircase was appropriate. His mouth was hung open and kept closing to open again at a steady speed of 5mph hour. His eyes looked like they were bugged out of his head; transfixed and on me. Given the state of his hair,I concluded that he had just woken up. Clad in grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, I felt envious of the fact that he slept in a state of warmth and ease whilst I was out for the world to prey on. It didn’t help his case when I saw the thick white socks that wrapped his feet as I shivered thinking of what the state my own would be.
It looked like he was in a state of shock, but I couldn’t understand why. Whilst waiting for someone to break the awkward silence, the contrast of loud background noises only heightened the tension, my own mind was working overdrive. Could it be that he was stunned at the nerve of me coming back, or was it because, maybe, he was so shit faced in the morning that he forgot his own name never mind the lovely social visit from his arch nemesis? Yeah, that could be it. I watched in unease as he placed one foot in front of the other almost cautiously and fearfully until he stood square in front of me. Knowing that this was it, he was going to say something that would leave me in a state of disgust of myself, I prepared myself for the worst, all the while making sure to void my face of any traces of emotion. Somehow, I didn't catch on that I was mirroring the same look Blake was wearing.
I was a mere outsider, standing-by with eyes glued to the inevitable show unfolding before my very eyes. He stepped closer, at a snails pace, and stared at me long and hard and I swore that he could smell the pheromones of my anxiousness. Try as I might, I couldn't help but lose myself the scrutiny of his own gaze, as I fought to remain unmoving as his hand came up to cup my face. Alarmed at his sudden need to give me unwanted affection, I gritted my teeth so hard I was sure I was going to leave one hell of a toothache in the wake of this whole situation.
Still opening and closing his mouth I guess he began to finally regain the alphabet he so recently forgot.
“Lia,” he breathed. And he couldn’t have said anything worse even if he tried with all his might. Not knowing what to do, I was all but prepared for the look of anger and disgust that was there just yesterday so much so that I wasn’t physically or emotionally prepared for this. Hoping that, maybe just maybe, it was the alcohol talking yesterday and not the Blake I once knew, I unconsciously leaned into his touch and shut my eyes for a millisecond. In a heartbeat, the living room door was flung open and we were interrupted. Recoiling, and making sure there was a foot of distance between us, we turned to see an Emilie, seemingly bewildered at what she thought she saw, in the doorway. To clear up any confusion, I promptly replied with “Its Aaliyah”.
This was short and curt and it seemed to snap both Emilie and Blake out of whatever trance they were in. In any other situation, or maybe in another lifetime, I would have laughed at the comedy of our predicament - we were all standing there, just staring. From an outsider's perspective, the way Blake and I were towering over Emilie's petite frame might have resembled a little child being scolded by her parents.
Shaking his head, Blake stood uncharacteristically frozen on the spot, as his eyes wandered over my body, in, seemingly, innocent curiosity. I decided to ignore him and turned my attention to Emilie, a knowing look inhabiting her features, as she at us both.
“Oh Aaliyah darling, when did you get here? I was going to send Jason out and get you after he ate his breakfast.” As if her words were on a repeat, I was trying to process her nonchalant attitude, at me sauntering in to her home, without a hint of disregard for my childish behaviour. This may have been a leap but it was almost as if she knew I would find my way back. Misunderstanding my silence for something else, she once again looked between us and said, “Oh my, where are my manner’s, I wasn’t interrupting was I?” She laughed breezily her eyes wide and childlike.
Now, this was a question that spiked my interest. At lightening speed, I turned my head to catch Blake's reaction. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, as he gulped, before, finally, he cleared his throat.
I saw it in his eyes straight away, they flashed angrily, and just like that I knew that yesterday was the real deal, even if we both wanted, desperately, to believe otherwise.
“Nope. It was nothing. She’s nothing,” he dismissed, then made a show of rolling his shoulders and stalking his padded feet into the living room. Making an extra effort to get his point across and show how unaffected he was by my presence, he slammed the door, on his way in.
Emilie looked at me and I looked at Emilie. To ensure that I was keeping up the nonchalant façade, I offered her a reassuring smile. As she took in my appearance, I did the same and honestly wasn’t surprised that she was dressed up to perfection, just like the last time I saw her; her hair in immaculate condition, tied in a loose bun at the top of her hair and an apron pressed to her body. Her dress resembled the apron – both, of which were, in chequered detail – and I noted, in admiration, how Emilie fulfilled all her roles to point; the perfect host, the attentive housewife. No wonder Jason was besotted, it’s like she walked right out of those glossy women’s magazines. All picturesque and nothing short of a fairy princess.
“Look Emilie, I wanted to apologize, you know for happened yesterday at the-” I stumbled at a loss for words. I mean, really, what would you call it? The Lets Bash Aaliyah Bash - in other words a few syllables short of disaster. But as incoherent as my thoughts were, Emilie did that thing she does. You know when she feels like its okay to bury herself against me and cuddle the hell out of me. Stumped, I threw her off as quickly as she was on, and with a warning gaze I made sure to point out boundaries.
“Whoa, you know I really don’t appreciate the whole touchy feely thing you have going on here Emilie.”
In typical Emilie fashion, she waved her hand and rolled her eyes with a sigh a laugh. “Oh Yeah, Jason did say that you’re not a big fan of hugs”.
“What Jason forgot to mention is, I’m not a big fan of the whole touching thing in general. So make sure you remember that the next time you decide to attack me because I won’t be so kind” I warned.
“Oh common, lighten up Aaliyah. You know what they say, a hug a day keeps the meanie away. And, besides, I just wanted to give you an emotional lift, I've been told that hugging is a good medicine; scientists say that you need at least four hugs a day in order to survive”. Surprisingly, she said this all in one big breath, using her arms to stand on her toes and hug herself.
“Huh. So, Dr Wacko is out in full force, today, then?” I half-laughed. “And isn’t it, ‘it keeps the blues away’?” I mused.
“No, I thought, it was 'it keeps the grouch away'”, Emilie replied, her eyebrows scrunching up.
“Then why did you say ‘meanie’?”
She smiled shyly and went red and, truth be told, she looked like a little doll. The words that came out her mouth surprised us both.
“I thought you might get angry and –“.
“And then what?” I barked. Realising I did exactly what she thought I would, I blew out a breath and using, both, my fingers rubbed at the middle of my brow as I battled with inner demons to keep my cool. Trying again, in a much lower voice, I asked “And, then, what did you think I was going to do Emilie, go all Hannibal on your arse and act like the thug I am?”, I couldn’t but help but spit the last sentence out.
By now, Emilie was standing there, mute, and with eyes like saucers. This caused the white hot liquid, that was already coursing its way through my veins, to bubble in anger and just like that, Emilie became victim to my unstoppable wrath as I outed all the frustration of the past couple of days out on her. My bullets were loaded and she was in the firing range.
“That’s what yesterday was all about wasn’t it, you’re scared of me, aren’t you?! That’s why you felt like you had to make up all that bullshit, about me being in some boarding school, in the middle of nowhere. And they knew! They could tell I wasn’t cooped up in some snobby school, they could tell a mile away what I was; a no-good thug! That’s what I am, aren’t I, Emilie? They could tell right off the bat that I’m not one of you. I reek of scum don’t I? TELL ME WHAT I AM EMILIE!”. At this point, I was fuming, my head spinning and on the verge of erupting, whilst Emilie looked like her eyes were seconds away from bursting into a flood.
By the end of my speech, my voice had been raised several octaves higher than I deemed possible and so was probably damaged beyond repair but this thought eluded me as I still had plenty gusto left. As my chest heaved from the feeble attempts of my body to regain composure.,the door to the living room opened up and Jason appeared in the hallway looking alarmed.
His eye’s zeroed in on Emilie, he went over to her immediately kissing her forehead in affection. I couldn’t look, knowing I was the cause of their upset, so I turned my face away from them both biting my tongue, my face rigid, my jaw tight, and trying to control my breathing through my nose since my face was snapped shut.
Wanting nothing more than punch a wall, or punch anything, I hadn't even gotten started with Emilie, so she should have considered herself grateful that Jason came when he did. Fully aware that I had outstayed my welcome, I turned around, ready for my quick exit.
END OF PART UNO.