She leaned further back in the office chair and patted the pockets of her fatigues as she uncomfortably recalled the conversation with her superior on Saturday. The captain had been even more formal than after the first “incident,” and certainly wore his rank more than he, or any superior, ever had with her. Although she hadn’t always been in agreement with her supervisors over the years, she’d never been in any trouble. This was just one more incredibly uncomfortable element in her life, of late.
Because she’d missed an entire work day on Friday, the captain made it perfectly clear he hadn’t been able or willing to conceal her unauthorized absence. And as he pointed out, more directly than she’d cared for, even if he had been willing to take the risk of covering for her, his genuine and obligatory concern for her well-being overrode any personal desires to “have her back” anyway. Due to the previous week’s events, he’d had no way of knowing if her potential head injury had created a dangerous situation, so he’d set out to find her when she hadn’t come to the office.
The fact that her truck had been home and she hadn’t, simply compounded his concern. After she’d failed to show by noon, he’d had to officially report her absence. He was angry about her admission to drinking excessively, but based on her exceptional record, he was not convinced that was the cause of her lost time. Whereas she would have sold her soul to make the car accident and subsequent events disappear, ironically, those very incidents were her saving grace now.
Rather than considering serious disciplinary action, the captain convinced their commander to seek further medical testing, as well as a mental health evaluation, to ensure head trauma hadn’t caused the post-accident behavior. Of course, there would also have to be an alcohol abuse determination. In the meantime, he gave her a direct order to refrain from drinking alcohol in any form, as well as to inform him of her whereabouts all times.
Revisiting the experience in painful detail, she now tried to remember at what point in one’s military career they ceased to speak normal English… her boss could have cut their hour-long meeting by half if he’d just used the words of Jerod Stass, instead of the official jargon of CAPTAIN Stass, officer in charge . She knew his hands were tied, but it still stung. Especially since she couldn’t defend herself.
While lost in the near hypnotic state of recall and contemplation, her hands had located the target of their pocket-fishing expedition. As she absently spread the smashed Wendy’s napkin on her desk, she questioned her judgment for failing to tell the captain about her odd conversation with Jeff the other evening.
The weirdness of the previous week still clung to her psyche, almost to the point of suffocation, and she desperately wanted to scrape it off. She knew from the way Jason looked at her, his continuous phone calls, along with the difference in the captain’s deportment that they both still believed there were more unworldly explanations to the initial incident than she was willing to consider.
Even worse were her own questions. When her guard was really down, Green Acre’s Lisa was on the forefront of her mind with her imploring gaze; that and memory of her words added an almost anxious weight to the thing that hung about Johnnie’s very being. She did not know what had transpired with Jeff, the bar guy, but deep down she knew it had nothing to do with tequila and in that respect, Captain Stass was likely dead-on when he’d speculated that her latest hoo-hah wasn’t based on a binge.
She stared at the napkin, knowing it was unrealistic to believe that this “thing” in her life would go away if she simply refused to acknowledge it. She also knew that it scared her.
It was the acknowledgment of fear which made her reach for the phone. She had fought her whole life to control what she could and sometimes that meant running toward danger. Just for a minute, she felt more like herself than she had in days, and she used that strength to dial the phone.
The idea to meet at Wendy’s was more a lack of imagination on Johnnie’s part than an act of irony. Jeff had answered his phone right away and when he asked where she wanted to meet, she’d simply read the napkin in lieu of thinking. She had enough on her mind without selecting a good rendezvous spot with what felt like guaranteed doom. Apparently amused that she chose Wendy’s, he named the restaurant location closest to the base and they agreed on a time.
The potential danger of this meeting had nothing to do with meeting a virtual stranger, and somehow Johnnie knew this. But, as if a populated place, daylight, and the sanction of her Air Force uniform could increase her safety, she’d chosen lunchtime that very day. Turning an “unknown” into a “known” was leverage she badly needed for her mental stability, although she didn’t necessarily welcome the looming information. Johnnie also wanted as many answers as possible before she faced the medical and mental health professionals. Even though she may choose not to share all information, she wanted access to every piece she could get.
Jeff’s Jeep was already in the restaurant parking lot when she found a spot for her old Dodge Ram. Isaac Newton would have had a personal moment of triumph if he witnessed how effectively gravity seemed to hold this woman in her seat after she cut the motor. She thought she might need a crow bar to release the grip when she shook her head and willfully broke the force. She told herself there wasn’t necessarily safety in ignorance, so she had nothing to lose.
Jeff met her at the door and they went through the awkward stages of standing in line to make their respective orders. It was funny how comfortable people could be in a line with total strangers, but those same individuals could also be very uneasy when standing in proximity to someone they knew just a little. This thought amused Johnnie, even in her nervous state. Moving to break the ice, she managed a smile and told him she’d get lunch, after all, he’d put her up for the night. Directness, not avoidance, was more her style and she instantly felt on firmer ground.
They had no sooner sat down with their bags of food and sweaty drink cups when Johnnie forewent the notion of eating and got right to the point.
“Jeff, I get that I drank a lot and slept on your couch. But, you implied…” She stopped, yanked the now well-worn napkin out of her pocket and waved it in his face, as if to remind him that he offered this opportunity.
“…lookit, I just really want to know what happened. Please.”
His bag crinkled loudly as he began to retrieve his lunch. He pursed his lips and dropped his hands on the table; one was still halfway in the bag.
“You really don’t remember? Anything?”
His eyes narrowed on hers, unsmiling, but not unhappy; he just seemed to check her out as much as she was doing the same. It was the mental equivalent of a dual; only these participants seemed more concerned about being the object of the shot than being the first to draw. They exchanged a long look, both completely oblivious to the thoughts of the other, but both also intent on “getting there.” Preferring the upper hand, but needing to relinquish any appearance of motive or secrecy, she raised her hands in figurative and genuine surrender.
“Jeff… I remember you sitting down at the bar and Sandy pouring shots. Then I woke up on your couch. I felt pretty rough, but not bad enough to have made me sleep a whole day away.”
She swallowed hard, hating to need something from someone else so badly. “And, honestly, if it weren’t for some… other….recent events, and your kind of unusual comments the other night, I’d just take my lumps and write this off as a Cuervo-induced road bump. Is there more? There’s more, huh?”
He never took his eyes off hers as he pulled his hand, empty, out of the protesting bag. A french fry and one curved catsup packet sneakily slid out of the sack just as he reached up to rub his face, breaking his half of the stare. He laced his hands over his head, resting them there for a moment before dropping them back down. Inadvertently smashing his hidden lunch, he folded his arms on the table and leaned close enough so only she could hear.
“Johnnie… I don’t know what happened, in one sense, but I can tell you what happened the way I see it.�
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She got that swoonish feeling that told her the world was about to take another unprecedented tilt. Feigning toughness to the end, however, and desperately hoping to avoid any melodrama, she leaned in too.
“Jeff, really, just spit it out. What? Did I puke?” Oh God, why had she said that? She hated her tendency to try to distract…
“We left the bar together and I had every intention of raping you. And probably worse.”
The impact of his words left her feeling not only out of breath, but as if there was no air in the universe left to breathe. Her most natural instinct was to escape, but her brain kicked in just in time to remind her he not only did not attack her upon first opportunity, but also didn’t do so when he could have later. She closed her eyes and gripped the table as if prevent her chair from ejecting. Regardless, she was safe right now and she knew she had to hear the rest of the story.
So tired. But so wired. She opened her eyes with instant focus on him and put all effort into an appearance of total composure.
“You thanked me.”
“You saved me…and saved yourself,” he countered.
Lisa and Jason had inundated her with details on the previous two “situations,” but this guy was conversely content with delivering the punch line and no joke. She wasn’t sure which method was more maddening, and suddenly stirred angrily inside.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Jeff. Speak me some English here! I would love to just walk right out of here, but I have to believe there’s something more to this story that might make sense?”
She stopped, cleared her throat, and reached deep down for the honey. She needed to catch this bee very badly. She started over.
“I’m sorry. Please. Your statements are light years apart…obviously there’s something that goes in between?”
He sighed deeply and looked at her, with an unexpected loving smile. Not a creepy-rapist-stalker smile, as she’d imagine it, but a loving smile. She thought her stomach turned inside out when she detected the same gratitude and calmness in his face as she’d seen on Lisa’s. Swell, she thought in a mild panic. Wasn’t this just swell. Here we go again, but then, she had asked for this…
He reached for her hand and she snatched it away. This seemed to stymie his affectionate reverie and he became serious again.
“OK, to the point. I’ve been… sick ….for a very long time. Well, since I can remember, and I’ve had some bad fantasies. Very bad, and I’ll leave it at that. But I’ve been ready for, well, awhile, to do some things.”
He looked sincerely ill, although Johnnie would have fought him for the title of “most-nauseated” at that moment.
“I watched you at the bar that night and decided it was time. I saw you’d come by cab, I saw you were alone. I counted your drinks. I looked at your size and I knew it was my night to become who I really was and…” He reeked of disgust, and she was mistakenly ready for some kind of contrite apology. But instead, he elaborated.
“And I was so ready and excited. I had even imagined some of what I was going to do to you before I even talked to you. I almost felt high and I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t your fault because you were drinking, that just made it easier for me to do what I would have done….”
She wanted to quit listening. She wanted to leave right now…but it was now or never, and she had to know how she fit into this mess, and why he had changed his mind about his initial intent.
“OK….I asked for details, I think I got the point.” She said tightly. She was secretly hoping he wasn’t getting off on repeating his thoughts from that night….she didn’t think so, but it wasn’t like she had any experience in this realm. At all.
“I’m sorry, it was just important for you to know this before I tell you the rest.” He had gained control and seemed very calm again.
What the hell had she gotten into here? Had she made a cosmic connection with all of the insane people within a fifty mile radius?
“Well, at the bar you got very quiet after our first drink-- quit talking and even stopped drinking completely; I figured you were super drunk, although, honestly, you’d only had a couple of shots and those beers. The bartender was obviously keeping a very close eye on you, pretty protective, so I knew my only chance was to leave first and just wait. So I did.”
She widened her eyes and raised her eyebrows with a quick head shake, producing the universal, “…so, get on with it…” look. He exhaled.
“So, I said good night and went outside and waited for your cab, which I assumed would show up sooner or later. I was sitting in my Jeep on the side of the bar so I could see when the cab showed – my plan was to tell the driver I’d been the caller and changed my mind, so I could…” She apparently showed signs of impatience again…or disbelief, so he jumped ahead.
“Bottom line, my Jeep was where it couldn’t be seen from the front door, and I could see the front door. So I know why I didn’t see you come out before the cab got there – but I don’t know how you knew exactly what I drove and where I parked.”
Head turned slightly, looking at him cockeyed, she involuntarily spat, “What?! You’re saying I came to you?”
That was ridiculous. She could almost imagine a guy getting her drunk and wooing her home, but she knew herself well enough to know she’d never a chase a man out of a bar, or anywhere else, for that matter.
He shrugged, eyebrows arched in surrender.
“Hear me out. I obviously have no motive for making this up or telling you what I told you…”
Her turn for surrender, or at least to come off the offensive. She leaned back, arms crossed. He still had not set the hook and she was waiting to hear something plausible.
“I couldn’t believe my luck when you walked around the bar and straight to my Jeep and got in. But I also wondered what was up when you looked straight ahead and didn’t say a word and wouldn’t respond to anything I said. But, I figured that would at least make it easier to get you home, and I have to tell you, my plans didn’t change. Till we got to my place.”
He stopped, looked past her for a minute, his color changed slightly and he was clearly remembering what she needed to know. Just before she prodded him – again – his eyes moved to hers.
“When we got to my place, you went straight from the Jeep to my apartment, which freaked me out a little, but I let you in and as soon as I locked the door and planned to – well, do what I wanted to do, you turned and pushed me against the door. I thought it meant something else till I felt it. I felt you, or something…”
His voice quivered and lowered to a whisper.
“Johnnie, you pushed against me and I felt something charge through my entire body. It was physical…sudden…and complete. Then my head just flashed and, well...I changed. You never said a word, you didn’t even look at me. And everything that had driven me for years was gone…”
His voice was soft, but harmlessly urgent now and this time his hands found hers before she could move away. She was numbed by his words and his raw emotion.
“Johnnie, do you hear me?! Gone. Years of sick, demented thoughts and urges that were part of who I was. I lived for the moment I could move to another level. And in a second, you, or whatever, just made it go away.”
Realizing he was holding her hands, he instantly flushed and let go, pushing his back into the hard plastic chair.
“I’ve almost been lost, because it’s all so gone, it’s like it’s created a vacuum inside of me. But in a way, I guess I’m found…” He quieted.
Even after being the object of another mind-bending story, Johnnie found a wisp of resilience, gained her emotional balance and said lightly and sarcastically,
“Lost but now you’re found? You were blind, but now you see? Is it amazing, Jeff? Was it Grace? Are you shitting me?”
She was breathing again, but rapidly now, and she was a little light headed. Johnnie wondered how much adrenaline one person was allotted to get them through life. She looked away from the man across the brigh
t cold table littered with forgotten food, knowing she was beyond exhaustion. She really needed to get away from this room. This person. The smell of french fries and hamburgers suddenly permeated all of her other senses and she thought she was going to be sick.
“I need to go.” She pushed away, staring at her knees as if willing them to support her when she dared to stand.
“Whether or not you believe me doesn’t change what I know, Johnnie.” She heard him say quietly. “And whatever made it happen, it came through you and I have to thank you. I never thought what I was -- was wrong -- before, which made it all so much more dangerous. Now, I can’t stand who I was -- and you and I aren’t the only ones saved, believe me.”
The noises of kids at a booth on the edge of the room mixed with clangs of fast food prep and shouts of employees.
“Even if you don’t want to believe me, I know you are a smart woman. What motive could I possibly have to tell you all of this and be willing to walk away? I also know something else is going on with you and this is just one piece of it.” He continued haltingly and she could see, peripherally, that he was standing.
“I don’t know anything else, except my life is forever changed. I wish you the best… You are one unlikely savior, but I’m grateful.”
Her head jerked up with a flash of recognition --- but he was walking away as her mind processed through thick confusion, attempting to locate the source of its fearful spark. Jeff disappeared from her view as Lisa materialized in her mind. Hadn’t she used those same words?
Her hands shook involuntarily as she stacked the uneaten food and bags onto the tray.
“I’m the one who needs a damn savior…,” she mumbled as she walked unsteadily to the trash bin.
The Unlikely Savior (The Unlikely Savior Trilogy) Page 6
