by J. P. Grider
I’m not sure how long I had been sitting like that before I vaguely heard a panicked voice somewhere behind me. I knew she was there, but I wouldn’t move. I couldn’t move. Her voice became stronger and more alarmed, but still I sat, staring at the wall, until she was suddenly right in front of me, her hands on both of my shoulders.
“What the hell?” Stupefied, I dazed into her face, which appeared obscure at first. It took a moment for me to focus. I was looking at Mara, who was staring at me just as bewildered as I was at her.
“Tagg? Are you alright?”
“Umm, think so.” I hesitated a moment. “Uh, Mara, could we cancel today? Uh, I’m not feeling too well.” I didn’t lie. I really wasn’t feeling well.
“Sure, Tagg. Can I get you something before I go? Water, maybe? I can stay with you if you’d like.” Empathy was transparent in her tone. Not sympathy; she wasn’t feeling sorry for me. No. She was feeling for me. As if she could see it wasn’t illness that had taken over, but rather immense heartache. It was the kind of empathy that only one that had experienced emotional pain could display.
The wall in front of me was still my point of focus, the images coming back into my vision. I answered Mara by choking out the words, “Ok.”
“Ok, you’d like some water or ok, you’d like me to stay?”
“Stay.” I wanted to be alone. Yet at that moment I really wanted Mara to stay. I strained to turn my head and look at her. I shook my head slightly a couple of times and said, “I’m sorry, Mara. I get like this often.”
Unphased, Mara softly replied, “It’s easy to slip into yourself when you’re hurting.”
I was dumbfounded. My body stirred up emotions it hadn’t felt in so many years. They weren’t sad or dire feelings like I had grown comfortable with. I was suddenly filled with desire. I almost didn’t recognize this rare and unexpected emotion. I wanted to reach out and hug her. The decade had almost past without hint of hope and now standing before me was what I had believed to be an angel from God.
But, did God send angels to those who had caused such harrowing tragedy? Certainly this had to be a trick. I did not attract goodness; my soul was tainted and therefore I saw myself as a magnet for evil. This was the thought that brought me back to reality. I guess I’d paused long enough, because Mara didn’t wait for me to respond to her statement. I got the impression it was a rhetorical sentiment anyway. Mara sat down next to me and put her hand on my knee. She sat there not saying a word, but I was not uneasy about this. It felt as natural as breathing.
I turned my gaze away from her and looked down at her hand that was still on my knee. I must have stared at it for five straight minutes before I looked back up into her tender, cocoa eyes. My thoughts were plenty at the moment, busy thinking about the electric tension nipping at my once anesthetized body. The nerves inside me felt like live wires competing for the ultimate surge. However, to try and speak was pointless. “Thank you, Mara,” was all I could muster. I wanted to tell her how her mere presence was bringing me back to life. She needed to know that this once shell of a man, felt almost human again, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell her this. Not yet. I barely knew her; we had only met two days ago. I had spent maybe an hour with her on Monday and barely a few minutes today, yet here she was, resuscitating my heart.
“Your welcome, Tagg. The color is returning to your face. Are you feeling better?”
“I am. You know, I don’t need to cancel my session. I’m good.” I didn’t want her to leave and if she wasn't training me, what reason could I give to ask her to stay?
“Well, considering what I just witnessed, I think it’d be best if we avoided any heavy weight-training today. Why don’t we start by taking a walk?”
A walk with an angel? Me? “Sure. Let me just get dressed.” Since I still was in my boxer’s and nothing else, it was a good idea to dress before going outside.
“Great. I’ll wait for you in the living room.”
I couldn’t deny it, I was extremely nervous. I knew she was just my personal trainer, but there was something about Mara that brightened my mood.
I swiftly yanked on a pair of gray sweats, a white t-shirt and my ruddy, old sneakers. I made a mental note to buy a new pair. The last time I bought anything other than beer or junk food must have been over a year or two ago; I couldn’t remember. Brushing my teeth, I took a look in the mirror and paused. Ready or not, my soul was resurfacing and I was going to have to re-enter the world.
“Are you all set, Tagg?” Mara had put on a pink baseball cap while I was getting dressed. She looked adorable with her ponytail pulled through the hole in the back of the hat.
“I’m all set. I have to warn you, I haven’t walked much farther than the distance from the refrigerator to my recliner. I hope you’re certified in CPR.” After the scene in my bedroom, I thought Mara deserved an untroubled companion to walk with around the lake.
Mara gave a big smile as she let out a slight laugh. “Don’t worry about it, Tagg, you’ll be fine. And, yes, I am certified in CPR, so feel free to pass out when the whim hits.”
She was funny, too. I let my hand sweep across her back as I led the way out the door. Even though the moment was short, the charge that ran up my arm to my heart was fierce; I briefly hoped she had felt it too. “Why don’t we take a walk on the boardwalk, instead of around the lake? I’ll drive.” I opened the passenger side door of my Honduras Maroon ’62 Corvette Convertible for Mara and then closed it for her once she was in. It felt good to act chivalrous. I drove the few minutes to the boardwalk and parked. The ride was quiet, but I wasn’t too worried. Mara seemed comfortable with silence. Once we reached the boardwalk, I let Mara take the lead. She was the trainer, after all. We started off walking at a pretty slow pace. It was embarrassing to think what she might have thought of my fitness level; I was somewhere over two-hundred pounds. But, she never outwardly seemed to pass judgment on that.
“Lake Mohawk is pretty, Tagg. What made you decide to move up here? I remember reading that you were a Jersey shore man.” I could tell Mara was a little nervous, but she was doing a good job at keeping the mood light.
“My heart wasn’t in it anymore. I had read about Lake Mohawk online. Moving up to the country seemed alluring, yet I wasn’t quite ready for farmland. I thought this place was a good compromise. It has a boardwalk, after all.” I joked.
Mara gave her big smile with that slight laugh again. “Somehow, you don’t seem the farmer type.”
“No? You can’t see me in a pair of overalls?” My goodness, what was I thinking? Why would I want her to picture me in a pair of overalls, with my huge gut sticking out? I was flirting as if I were that lithe, rock and roll guy, still.
Mara was polite; I hadn’t doubted she would be. “I think you can be anything you want to be, Tagg.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know about that.” Of course I couldn’t just let the mood stay weightless. I had to bring the heaviness back. Quick, Tagg, think of something more casual to say before I make her feel uncomfortable. “I don’t think I can be a woman.” Dumb, but at least it was light.
“Well, technically, if you really wanted to, they do have surgeries for that kind of thing.” There was that smile, again. “Tagg, can I ask you a question?”
Her tone was serious. “You can ask; I’m not sure you’ll get an answer.”
“That’s fair... What happened at your house before,…that happens often?”
I watched for Mara to look down, avert her eyes in some way, but as we walked, her eyes never left me. I looked down, however. “I do tend to fade out from time to time, yes.”
Mara continued to look up at me, while I continued to look down as we strolled. “You can’t get over her, can you?”
I promptly turned to face Mara. She was still looking at me, her eyes wide. We stopped walking for a moment. She must have been surprised by my reaction. I was caught off guard by her question. It really has never been about getting over Crystal. “Why do you ask
that?” I said, sounding more annoyed than I had wanted to.
“I just thought that your depression was due to missing your wife. I’m sorry.”
“What makes you think I’m depressed?” I really wanted to know. The tabloids had begun leaving me alone a year after the accident. No one except my family knew I was depressed.
“I just assumed.”
“Why?”
“I see it in your eyes. You’re sad. The eyes don’t lie.”
I closed my eyes briefly, and then started walking. Mara followed. “Yeah, I’m sad, but it’s not really because I miss my wife.”
“Oh.”
“What does that mean? Oh.” Leave it to me to get defensive. Mara was not being offensive, yet I had to put up my guard.
“It means nothing, Tagg. I just thought maybe I was prying too much and I would just end this part of the conversation.”
“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I haven’t held a conversation with anyone besides my mother in a long time and even then, she’s the one doing the talking. I don’t mind the questions, if you don’t mind my reactions.”
“I don’t mind.”
We continued to the end of the boardwalk and turned to head back towards the car. Mara seemed more careful now in her questioning. “What were you like when you were younger, Tagg?”
I let out a guttural laugh. “Trouble.”
“I expected that.”
“You did? What gave me away?”
“Someone who was able to make it as a huge rock star before the age of twenty had to be some what of a thrill seeker.”
“True, I wasn’t afraid of much. I guess I have my parents to thank for that. Besides raising me to be a chronic smart-ass, they also gave me lots of freedom, because of their schedules. Dad always brought me on tour, so I grew up before I should have. While he was rehearsing for a show, I’d meander through whatever city we were in. It wasn’t the conventional childhood, but it was my childhood and it was quite fascinating. But, yeah, I sought many a thrill as kid.” I turned to look at Mara, who was looking straight ahead as she walked and listened. It made me smile to see her petite profile. Her little nose tipped up at the end. It was one of those noses that was fortunate enough to not have grown a sloping bone at the top. It was very cute and fit her very well. “What were you like, Mara?”
“When I was a child? I was fairly shy.” I noticed she looked down as she continued her response. “I didn’t have a dad around, like most of my friends, so I always felt like an outcast. Mom was great, but she worked so much that I would have to stay at my Uncle Frank’s house more than my own.”
“Where was your Dad?” I was curious.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I never knew him. My mom had me young and I guess he chose to not stick around. Whenever I’d ask about him, my mother just said he was a young boy who didn’t know any better. Uncle Frank tried to be like a dad to me, but once my cousin Francis was born, I kind of felt in the way. They never wanted me to; they definitely treated me like a daughter, but I knew better. They went on to have five other kids. I did baby-sit for them eventually. It was all good. I just ended up quiet, that’s all.” Mara looked back up and smiled at me.
“How did you get into fitness?” This, I really wanted to know.
“Uncle Frank did that. He was, and still is, a power lifter – one of the best in the world. He travels the country competing and usually takes first or second place. It’s pretty cool. I used to hang out in the gym he had in his garage and watch. Eventually, I started working out and found I was good at retaining what he had taught me. So, I studied hard and got my certification. Before that, I graduated with a degree in Public Relations.
“Do you have many clients?”
“Currently, I have about ten. Sometimes I have more, sometimes less. I’m also a group fitness instructor; I teach Spinning classes and Kickboxing and stuff. It’s okay. It pays the bills and keeps me in shape. I used to have a more professional job, but it wasn’t really me.”
“Ah. Interesting.” Being with Mara was interesting. I really enjoyed her company. Our walk ended way too quickly; before I knew it, we were back at my Corvette. Once again, my chivalry kicked in and I opened the door for Mara to get in and closed the door after her. I circled around to get in to my side of the car, excited to be sitting so close to her again.
After I got in, Mara ran her hand across the dash, “I like the white interior, very sophisticated, Tagg. Your car is amazing.”
“Thank you. I bought if for myself after our first album went Platinum.” I suddenly felt nostalgic for my performing days.
“You have good taste in cars; very classy.”
“Thanks, Mara.” Just like my car, Mara was the epitome of class. She was refined and polished, yet unpretentious. I wanted to get to know her better. No, I needed to get to know her better.
Chapter Four
Mara wasn’t coming to train me until tomorrow. I didn’t know what to do with myself for a whole day without her. It was only yesterday that we took our stroll along the boardwalk, but I was itching to see her again. My self-induced suffering had seemed to take a back seat in my mind when I was with Mara. She was easygoing and easy to be with, and she made it easy for me to forget that I had been a recluse for the past seven years.
I decided to forgo my accustomed dismal routine of sulking in my recliner all day to go get a new cell phone and a haircut. Now that I felt a bit more cheerful, I couldn’t stand my appearance. My long hair was unruly and my beard was just offensive. Mom had already had coffee made by the time I got out of the shower, and she was in the process of making a vegetable omelet when I entered the kitchen. It was apparent by the smile on her face that she was pleased to see me up and showered so early. I kissed her on the cheek and got a mug out of the cupboard for my coffee. “Mom, I’m sorry about the other day. You really don’t have to stay and be my personal chef. I can fend for myself, I am a grown man.”
“Well, you haven’t been acting like one.”
“I deserved that. I’m sorry.” I poured my coffee and refilled my mom’s cup. I took out two plates and I split the omelet she made into two. “Sit down and eat breakfast with me today.” We sat. “Mom, I’ll really make an effort this time to move on from what happened. I guess I did let it go on too long.”
Mom looked surprise. “What brought this on all of a sudden?”
“I think I just decided that my sulking wasn’t changing the past. I’m still crippling with guilt, but I want to try.” I shrugged and then took a bite of my eggs. Mom did the same; as if she thought not commenting would be the best response. She was correct. After we were done eating, I cleared the table before Mom had a chance. “Mom, really, go home. If I need you, I’ll call.”
“Are you sure?” Mom was a bit skeptical of my sudden transformation.
“I promise. But, you don’t have to stay away, I just mean, you don’t have to live here with me. Maybe its time, I come visit you. I don’t think I’ve been to your house in a couple of years.”
“More than that, baby.”
“Yeah, it has been a long time. I promise, though, Mom, I’m okay. I’m not great, but I’m okay. And, by the way, you don’t have to pay for my personal trainer, I’m sure I can handle that.”
“Will you stick with her, though? I think you need somebody to whip that pudge you call a body back into performing shape.”
I put my hand up in defiance. “Whoa, I didn’t say I’d perform again. I just thought I’d re-enter the world as a normal human being. Baby steps.” And I did something I hadn’t in a long time. I laughed. Mom and I cleared our breakfast dishes from the table and left my house together. In the driveway, I gave her a big hug. She’d deserved it. She’d comforted me during my darkest days. After our long hug, Mom took off in her Silver Mercedes SL Convertible and I pulled out in my ‘Vette.
I drove through the town of Sparta, looking for a place to get my hair cut. There were all sorts of high-end beauty salons along
the way, but I wasn’t looking for anything so indulgent. I was a guy after all. Although, in days gone by, I’d only had the best stylists toil with my hair. Today, though, I was just looking for a plain, old-fashioned haircut, and, of course, a shave. Not too far away was a local barber on Sparta Avenue, so I parked my ‘Vette and went in. The barber was a pleasant-looking, old, white-haired man who looked like he had just stepped out of the Norman Rockwell Barber Shop painting. In fact, the whole place looked like a Norman Rockwell. White, distressed wainscoting dressed the lower walls, while old-fashioned, barber tools covered the wallpaper on the top half of the walls. I also immediately noticed the tin-roof ceiling. It was like I had time-traveled back to the 1950s. There was one old-time style barber chair, occupied by the customer who was having his hair clipped by the Rockwell Barber. I sat in one of the three antique wooden chairs that resided in the waiting area and waited for my turn. It was a very pleasing atmosphere and I thought, for all of the times I had actually ventured outside my home in the last few years, that maybe the 50s were making a comeback. I hardly thought so, though, because I would have seen hint of it on at least some of the television shows that I watched all day and night.
“What can I do you for?” The pleasant barber joked after seeing his previous client off. “I don’t suppose seeing you here before, have I?”
I gave a silent chuckle at the man’s speech. “No, I’ve never been here before. I haven’t been to see anyone about my hair in a while, as you can see.” My hand made a circle around my face area, to exaggerate the fact.
It was the barber’s turn to chuckle. “I suppose not. Why don’t you take a seat over here and I’ll lower your ears.” Mr. Barber chuckled again. “My name’s Sam. What’s yours?”
“Tagg.”
“Now that’s an odd name. Is it a nickname?”
“You can say that. It’s short for Taggart, my mother’s maiden name.”
“Different. I like it. So what do you do, Taggart?”
