The Lonely Heart Attack Club - Project VIP

by J. C. Williams

  Several minutes passed by, and the numbers in the crowd were only increasing rather than reducing. “Shit,” said Jack, looking at his watch. Ramone’s flight had arrived on time right enough, but this delay now, which Jack hadn’t factored in, was presenting a real danger of derailing their narrow schedule. Jack made his way over, as close as he was able given the teeming mass of bodies, to see if he could somehow attract Ramon’s attention. He held his sign up as high as he could, unable now to cover the worrisome portion on account of both hands now being otherwise engaged. “Ramon!” shouted Jack, up on tippy toes. “Ramon! Over here!”

  But it was completely useless. Jack was able to catch fleeting glimpses of Ramon but could see that every time Ramon had finished signing an autograph or was done posing for a selfie with a fan, there was another fan on him in an instant. It was like wading in quicksand, with progress made impossible the more you struggled to get out. Ramon, wisely, was choosing not to even struggle. He no doubt long ago learned that the best way to handle these types of situations was to not struggle at all, and to have faith that somehow he’d eventually make his way out of the morass intact.

  “Gary!” Jack shouted, in hopes of gaining some assistance from that quarter. “Gary, can you help me get him out of here? Otherwise, we’re going to be late! Gary? Gary!”

  But Gary, unfortunately, was currently too busy to render any help to Jack. He had his own problems, as he was presently awash in a sea of frisky women — and not in a good way, either.

  Spotting a brief sliver of a gap opening up, just enough for Ramon to be able to see him, he hoped, Jack jumped up once again, deploying his sign as he did so. “Ramon!” he screamed, “I’ve come to get you!” he shouted, not thinking how this might sound.

  Or how it might look, for that matter, what with the message on his sign and all, replete with its image of a dripping, blood-drenched heart. Still, Jack soldiered on. “Ramon!” he shouted again, pressing forward. Pressing forward, that is, until progress was suddenly brought to a swift halt when a searing pain ran through his shin.

  “I told you to back the fuck off, dipshit!” shouted the late-middle-aged woman with the seasoned face of a salty sea captain from earlier. And with that warning dispatched, she commenced a second wave of assault with her right foot, delivering this expert blow with precision, landing it on exactly the same spot as her previous strike. “And give me that!” she demanded, snatching the sign out from Jack’s grasp, and then thrusting her ill-gotten booty directly in Ramon’s direction. “I love you, Ramon!” the crazed, bloodthirsty woman screamed.

  “That’s mine! Give it here!” protested Jack, through tears of pain. “I spent over an hour making that!” he protested, reaching for the sign. But the old girl was not about to give up the sign so easily, as she was a woman possessed, the unholy power of love coursing through her veins. A manic tug-of-war thus ensued, and after much struggle Jack somehow, miraculously, found himself back in possession of his sign, a smug grin over his face in triumph.

  This was a victory that was not fated to remain, however. “You should really see someone about that anger issue of yours, because…” Jack had begun to say. But Jack never got to finish his sentence, as his love-enraged adversary had lunged at him, pulled him in close by the collar of his shirt, and then had him placed firmly in a headlock in short order, her thumb pressed into his windpipe.

  “Gary! Help!” Jack squeaked, barely able to speak on account of the pressure presently being placed on his larynx. “Gary…!” he managed once more, this time in what sounded more like a frog croaking than a human voice.

  And the last thing Jack saw before his knees buckled and he temporarily lost consciousness was a jubilant photographer capturing the final moment of Jack being roundly trounced by a leather-faced woman with lovely hair whilst fighting over a sign to both (by outward appearances, at least) declare their love for Ramon Hernandez.

  Jack was as manly as they come. Yep, he was all about the ladies, even if his track record with them had been rather pathetic, historically, at least until the love of his life Emma had come along. Nope, Jack had never had a bromance, man crush, or even the slightest inklings of romantic feelings felt towards the male of the species. And yet he found that his natural inclinations, whilst in the company of Ramon Hernandez, became somewhat… confused. He’d never understood how the mere mention of a man’s name could make some people go all doe-eyed and melt like an ice cream on a hot day, but spending twenty minutes in the car with Ramon was certainly giving Jack a clue as to how that might be the case. Ramon couldn’t have been born like a traditional mortal, mused Jack. Surely, he must have been created and sculpted by the gods themselves. If Jack hadn’t witnessed the effect his simple presence had on people at the airport, he would never have believed it, but now he was feeling it too. Toned torso, olive skin, shiny black hair, white teeth, and an accent like the wonderful Puss in Boots character in Shrek (purrfectly voiced by Antonio Banderas) all contributed to his charm. And if that weren’t enough, Ramon was also the winner, multiple times over, of the Latin world dancing championship. Yup, that bastard had it all.

  But is he happy? thought Jack, pulling into the car park, and making a mental note that he should, if at all possible, steer Ramon well clear of Emma. After all, he hoped to marry Emma one day, and he didn’t need this kind of competition!

  “You have a beautiful island,” remarked Ramon, in his lovely Spanish accent. “I would like to spend more time to see it, perhaps on another occasion.”

  “You’re welcome back anytime,” said Jack. “Oh, and just to reconfirm, as I was saying earlier, you know, about my sign? I was just trying to tell you who I was, I wasn’t trying to, ehm…”

  “It is all right, Jack,” Ramon assured him. “But are you certain you should not be attended to by a physician? I do apologise, as my fans can sometimes get, ah… how shall I put it? … overly excited. And that woman you had the altercation with, she was a very good fighter, yes?”

  “I’m fine,” said Jack flatly, anxious to move the conversation forward, and away from his savage beating. “If you come back, I’d be delighted to take you for a tour around our Island,” Jack said brightly, deftly manoeuvring the topic back to the subject of Ramon’s visit. “And I just wanted to thank you for agreeing to come in the first place. The promise of your presence has really brought our event into the spotlight, and the money raised is for a wonderful cause, I can assure you.”

  “It is not a problem, Jack. I already know this,” Ramon replied affably. “If it was not a good cause I would not bother to attend, and so I am happy to be here.”

  “It’s only a quick walk to the promenade from where we’re parking here,” said Jack as he was pulling his van into an available space a few minutes later, an available space that had been difficult to find. “Our timing is brilliant,” he remarked, glancing at the dashboard clock before shutting off the vehicle’s ignition and pocketing his keys. “We’ve still got a bit of time until the start of the event, and then we… holy shit,” he said, gawping down the street as they got out of the van. The route they were about to take on foot led down towards the promenade, and there were dozens upon dozens of people in carnival spirits already heading the same way they were. Ramon, accustomed to being recognised in large crowds, smartly donned a baseball cap he kept with him for just such occasions, and slipped on his sunglasses as well, so that he could progress hopefully without too much interruption.

  In view of the expected attendance the police had closed off several of the roads leading down to the promenade, which only enhanced the party atmosphere, with people dancing in the street. Jack had figured a handful of people might truly enter the spirit of the event by dressing up for the occasion, but the number of people in their finest formal evening wear was mind-blowing. The weather, at least at present, seemed to also be entering into the spirit, with nothing more worrying than a gentle breeze.

  Ramon’s disguise appeared to be holding up, with onl
y a few people offering him a second glance on his and Jack’s short journey down Victoria Street. Once at the junction of Victoria Street and onto the Douglas Promenade proper, there were now hundreds of people milling around.

  “We're heading right up there,” Jack told Ramon, pointing out their destination, “Just past Douglas War Memorial, where you can just see a small stage they’ve erected for the day.”

  Susan and the gang from the Douglas council had done themselves proud. Jack had seen them earlier in the day but now, with the crowds everywhere, what they’d organised was deeply impressive. Upbeat music was being piped through several loudspeakers the length of the promenade, resulting in sporadic dancing and hip jiggling in every direction. The general mood was electric.

  “My hips are going!” announced Ramon, now swept away with the tempo. “They cannot help themselves!”

  Jack couldn’t resist the beat either. But whereas Ramon moved with a silky feline grace, Jack was more like a drunken dad at a wedding. Still, that’s what the day was intended to accommodate. It wasn’t just about polished, seasoned dancers. No, it was very much about beginners, and those with two left feet. It was all-inclusive, and anybody and everybody could join in and have fun.

  Concession stands selling a wide array of glorious-smelling food had been placed intermittently along the sides of the promenade. Here, hundreds more people were congregating, taking advantage of the food outlets and also the opportunity to enjoy a beer or other refreshment of choice to complement the music. Those participants that’d already registered with the officials sported a laminated entry number on their backs. The numbers were issued chronologically, so it was easy to see how many people had registered on the day by seeing the numbers on their backs. Of course, the record was for pairs of dancers, so each couple wore matching numbers. Jack was particularly pleased to see some of the numbers were in the four-figure range, indicating that chances of breaking the record were good as this meant there were well over a thousand couples already registered at present and still plenty of time as well until the actual start of the event for even more couples to sign in.

  “Any change for a wonderful cause?” asked a charming older gentleman dressed in his old Royal Navy uniform. “All proceeds are going to a splendid charity that really does make a difference to the folk of our lovely Island,” he said to Jack and Ramon as the two of them sashayed up to the fellow’s position along their way up the promenade.

  The chap with the collection bucket volunteering for the day didn’t appear to recognise Jack, or Ramon, either, for that matter. But neither minded, and Jack swiftly pulled out his wallet and dispatched what he had into the bucket without delay, a gesture followed immediately by Ramon.

  “You’re not wrong about that, sir,” said Jack, in reference to his comment about making a difference. Jack peered into the bucket and was pleasantly surprised at the sheer volume of notes already lining the bottom of it. “And you’re doing an excellent job, if you don’t mind me saying, so cheers for that,” he added.

  Once they were on their way again, and leaving the fellow with the collection bucket to carry on with the fine job he was doing, Jack said to Ramon, “Right, I’ll take you over to the main stage and introduce you to Susan who’s coordinating things, if that’s okay?” But Ramon wasn’t really listening just at the moment. He was too busy absorbing the infectious bacchanal atmosphere, and had lost himself in the beat of the music.

  “Is this Isle of Man of yours always like this?” asked Ramon, clapping his hands above his head. “I love it!”

  “Of course it is!” Jack was happy to report. “The greatest place on earth!” he confidently declared.

  But Ramon was already gone, spinning up the promenade in a coordinated blur, with Jack breaking into a gentle jog just to keep up with him. Once again, Jack looked like a desperate fan, sprinting behind his hero with his tongue hanging out like an excited puppy dog out for walkies. Or he would have looked like that, at least, if anyone were to identify Ramon as Ramon. But fortunately, at this point, Ramon was still incognito.

  It wasn’t long before they arrived at their intended target area. Jack and Emma’s mobile coffee stand was just to the left of the main stage, as being one of the organisers had to come with some perks, after all, and seeing the good-sized queue as he’d approached of people patiently waiting there to be served brought Jack a warm fuzzy feeling inside. “Ehm… Ramon?” said Jack tentatively. “Can I just introduce you to my girlfriend?”

  Jack, realising he’d just spoken Ramon’s name out loud, braced himself for impact, fully expecting to be crushed by the imminent tsunami of incoming adoring fans. Fortunately, however, he hadn’t said the name quite loud enough for anyone to have noticed, thank goodness, and the only thing at present that Ramon’s presence was currently generating were some curious but ultimately dismissive glances and some scattered disappointed grumblings from a few people who thought they might possibly have heard Ramon’s name but decided it was only a false alarm.

  “Only some lousy impersonator,” said one.

  “Doesn’t hardly even look like him,” said another.

  “Sad, really,” said a third.

  And then they all turned back around, waiting for the real Ramon Hernandez to arrive instead of this rubbish false one.

  Ramon’s disguise was holding fast, at least for the time being. Now, as to Jack’s promise he’d made to himself earlier about never under any circumstances introducing Ramon to Emma, well, their meeting seemed inevitable and so couldn’t really be helped. Jack decided to make the introductions and be done with it, and just hope for the best. Surely Ramon wouldn’t pose any genuine threat or competition to the bond that he and the adoring love of his life shared? Nossir. No way would her eyes be turned by what was quite possibly the most attractive man to walk the earth…?

  But Jack needn’t have worried about his relationship. He escorted Ramon to the rear of their coffee stall to meet Emma, his mum, and baby Lucas, who’d also arrived to enjoy the day’s festivities, and Ramon was the perfect gentleman — gracious, polite, and, well, bloody perfect. And then, with the queue of customers waiting for their coffee getting a touch impatient, Jack dragged Ramon away from the clutches of his mum to hand him over to Susan and the rest of the team running the stage. Like the consummate professional he was, Ramon was eager to enter into his official duties, with him hosting a warm-up routine in order to get the blood pumping and flowing in all the participants and collective circulatory systems primed for action. After that, he would then commence the record attempt with his own waltz up on the stage, after which he would then lead his partner down onto the floor to then join the rest of the participants for the remainder of the dance.

  After the spectacle at the airport, Jack was now somewhat concerned about how Ramon would safely make his escape at the conclusion of the event, but he had to hope Susan and the rest of the organisers would have this all worked out and very much in hand. Jack, for the moment, was anxious to get back to Emma and help serve the remaining customers. He was then going to pull the shutters down and whisk his beloved away to take part in the dance himself. There were many people still waiting for a coffee, so the start of proceedings still being a half hour or so away was something of a bonus in that it also allowed Jack an opportunity to replenish his now-empty wallet.

  “Raymondo!” said Jack, a very short time later. Jack didn’t mind being intercepted on his way back to Emma. He was pleased to see Ray, who’d volunteered to take Jack’s dear mum for the waltz as her dance partner. Ray had donned a suit and tie, and by the looks of things had even polished his shoes for the occasion. “You’re looking sharp! And just as well, too, as I believe there’s cameras here from the TV!” remarked Jack.

  “Hello, son,” replied Ray.

  Ray looked, given the current festivities, oddly nervous and uncomfortable.

  “Have you not had your phone with you? I’ve been trying to call you,” Ray said to Jack.

 
Jack patted down his pockets, but his phone was nowhere to be had. “Sorry, it seems I’ve left it in the van,” Jack replied. “Anyway, I’m just going to help Emma for a bit, and then throw my suit on for the—”

  “Yes, I’ve been trying to phone Emma as well,” Ray added abruptly.

  “She’ll have been caught up serving, I expect,” offered Jack. “Why, what’s up, Ray?” he asked, concerned now, Ray’s solemn demeanour finally registering. “And where’s Grandad, by the way? Is he not with you?” said Jack, glancing about. But Grandad was not there, not anywhere that Jack could see, and this was troubling as Ray and Grandad should have arrived together. “Ray?” Jack asked again, panic starting to set in now, “Ray, where’s Grandad?”

  “Right. About that,” replied Ray, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Well, son, ah… the police came to the house and they’ve taken him away.”

  “What?” shrieked Jack. “What do you mean they’ve taken him away? What does that mean, Ray? Has he been locked up, Ray? What exactly did they say??”

  “I’m not sure, son,” replied Ray, somewhat frightened by the intensity of Jack’s reaction.

  “How are you not sure, Ray? You live with him,” said Jack. “Weren’t you in the house at the time?”

  “Well, yes, technically I was,” answered Ray, looking down at his shoes. “Only I was on the toilet when they arrived and when they took him away,” he explained. “So I don’t know any details. I just heard it happening through the door. I mean, Geoffrey called out for me but, em, well… I couldn’t really get up, could I?”