“I don’t drink,” Charlie said, remembering his one and only experience with alcohol a few years ago. They were cold church steps that he woke up on, even when blanketed with the weather section of the newspaper predicting above normal temperatures for that time of year.
“If you’re hanging with me, then you have to have a shot,” Mike Costea said, as if Charlie’s comment about his relationship with his son warranted some kind of payback.
“Well, just one,” Charlie said hoping to have any opportunity to stay with him.
“Who’s this, Mike?” Bob asked, glancing at Charlie.
Mr. Costea did not know what to say. He did not consider Charlie a friend nor did he want to tell them he was following him around to talk about his love life.
“He’s just a ....”
“I work for Mike,” Charlie cut in. “I’m a therapist and we’re helping a mutual client through a near divorce and the loss of their children.”
Mr. Costea turned to Charlie and wondered just how much he knew about him, assuming that the client Charlie was talking about was himself and the lost children were his own.
He probed for more information. “The loss of one child, not children!” he said with a tone that stated it was none of his business.
“Two! The loss of two children, right Mike?” Charlie said with confidence. Mr. Costea nervously swallowed and stared at Charlie, knowing that he knew of his broken relationship with his son who was still alive, as well as the son he buried.
The shots came and Charlie reluctantly toasted with the men and drank it up, making a face as if he was in the most excruciating pain. They could tell he was not a drinker.
“How do you know about the state of their second son?” Mr. Costea asked, pretending to talk about a client in front of his friends.
“I know a lot of things you don’t know. I’m a therapist, remember?” Charlie replied. “It’s my business to know all about my clients.”
“Drink your beer ah…” Mr. Costea realizing he did not even know his name if he had told him before.
“I’m Charlie. Charlie Daniels,” he said to the others at the table and everyone laughed. Natt even spilled beer down the front of his expensive suit, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
“Oh yes, I forgot to introduce you. I’ll order us another round,” Mr. Costea said as he held up the shot glass to the waitress walking by. To Charlie’s regret, the waitress came over and poured them another shot. Charlie tried to hide his glass, but Mr. Costea pointed it out. “Don’t forget my friend Charlie Daniels here. Make his a double.”
“Have you met my friend Jack?” Bob asked Charlie as he ordered a single shot of Jack Daniels.
Several shots and a few beers later they were all laughing at anything anyone said. The young, pretty waitress had more reasons to be annoyed with them each time she delivered a drink. Mr. Costea asked Charlie once again, “So concerning our mutual client, tell me again, how do you know about the second son?” he demanded.
“I know a lot of things you don’t know,” Charlie said with a slurred speech.
“You know more than me?” Mr. Costea doubted him.
“I would prefer to say I have more insight than you,” Charlie said carefully, hesitating to make sure he did not reveal his identity. When Mr. Costea smirked, Charlie added, “But yes, I know more than you also. Much, much more.”
“Tell him something he don’t know,” Carl yelled, edging him on.
“Yeah, school this bastard, Charlie,” Bob yelled with laughter, irritating every other customer in the place but his drunken friends.
“Well,” Charlie said, “Today the world thinks that everything is made of atoms, with a nucleus and protons and electrons flying around them. But there is a vast amount of empty space between the nucleus and its electrons and protons. Even inside the nucleus there is emptiness. You see, beyond atoms and molecules things just really exist as possibilities,” Charlie said this as he waved his hand. “Thought is what gives rise to the things you see. But, ‘Where does thought come from?’ you might ask,” Charlie said, raising his finger. Then he spread his hands out as if pushing two mountains apart and said, “There is emptiness in and around everything, but just because it is empty of matter, it does not mean it is empty of consciousness. Everything arises from the emptiness. In the emptiness there is no you and I. There is no self and other. In the emptiness from which all things come, we are all one,” he said as they looked at him strangely. “But I tell you, it is possible to exist as a self and be aware of the one at all times. That is where true love is found. True love is nothing more than the emotional expression of this vast oneness,” Charlie hiccupped and burped at the same time and everyone laughed when they realized he was finished, all except the waitress. She did not understand anything he said but she knew he was not like the others, and she respected him for that.
“Well Charlie Daniels, it’s time for me to get back to work. You take care,” Mr. Costea said as he patted him on the shoulder and walked out with his friends.
The young waitress quickly came over and helped guide Charlie to a seat, then he proceeded to collect her five-dollar tip and clean the mess they left on the table. He noticed the disappointed look on her face and said, “You want a tip?”
She looked at Charlie. He was staggering in his seat as he blurted out. “Find the emptiness and no one will ever hurt you again,” he said as he thought of true love. “At least I don’t think so,” he added as he thought of Julie.
Charlie wished her well. He left her a fifty dollar bill and then fumbled through the doorway onto the street.
Chapter 22
Outside the bar, Charlie spotted an officer on a horse standing next to a phone booth through his blurred vision, he didn’t know which way the motel was. He swayed back and forth through the crowd toward the phone booth. The officer watched as he walked straight into the glass door. Inside he began to urinate. The officer shook his head and called for a car to come pick him up, and then got off his horse to make the arrest. Charlie was nearly knocked over as he stumbled back into the crowd. He was spun around until he ended up in front of the horse with the officer beside him. He proceeded to slur to the horse, “Excuse me, ociffer. Could you direct me to…I forget where that motel is.”
The officer stared at Charlie for a moment in disbelief then pulled out his handcuffs. “Alright buddy, let’s go, you’re under arrest for public drunkenness.”
“No, ociffer. I can’t be under arrest. I have a girl waiting for me in a motel room somewhere,” Charlie mumbled.
“I’ll bet you do,” the officer said. “What’s your name?”
“Charlie Daniels!”
“That’s very funny,” the officer said. “I suppose you have a friend named Johnny who plays his golden fiddle too, right?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said slowly, half coherent. “He’s a pretty good fiddle player but boy let me tell you what. You should hear Mephistopheles. Whoo ooo! Fire flies from his fingertips when he rosins up his bow. Hey, do you know what ever happened with that court date I had for the Juliano’s incident?” Charlie asked.
“What Juliano’s incident?” the officer asked.
“From the first time I got arrested jumping off the building. They thought I was trying to commit suicide. I think I was supposed to go to court for that, but I never returned home to get the letter. Was that you who arrested me then, too?” Charlie asked.
“No, it wasn’t but I’ll sure look into it.”
“Thank you,” Charlie responded.
“You know you have the right to remain silent, don’t you?”
“I’m just carrying on a conversation, but I know I don’t have to talk if I don’t want to,” Charlie said.
“I would advise you not to,” the officer said.
The police car arrived to pick him up.
As the officers exchanged information, Charlie saw a woman dressed in a glittery purple miniskirt, red high heels, and a low cut gold top. I wa
nt Juliet, Charlie thought to himself.
“Charlie,” Julie suddenly screamed from across the street. She ran toward him dressed in a purple miniskirt, red high heels, and a low cut gold top. “Charlie, what happened?” wondering why he was being arrested.
“Hi, Juliet,” he replied. His smile was bigger than usual and smelled of whiskey.
“You’re drunk!” Julie shouted. She turned to her left and noticed the woman on the street wearing similar clothes. She glanced over her own clothes and realized they were an exact match. She pulled on her shirt and looked at Charlie. “You caused this, didn’t you? With your thoughts! Look, our clothes are an exact match. You know I almost got killed.”
“You’re wrong, Juliet,” Charlie said.
“What do you mean I’m wrong? Are you telling me that it’s just a coincidence that we have the exact same clothes on?”
“Ah ha, now you’re right,” Charlie nodded.
“Of course I’m right. I mean no, it can’t be a coincidence. You’re here and our clothes are a dead match. Only you could..,”
“Wait,” Charlie interrupted. “Now you’re wrong again.”
“What are you talking about Charlie?”
“His name really is Charlie?” the officer asked.
Julie nodded at the officer and waited for Charlie’s answer.
“You’re wrong when you say the clothes are an exact match, but you’re right when you say you have the exact same clothes on.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not making sense,” she asked.
“I’m talking about the basic theory of Superposition where one particle can be in two different places at the same time. Ask one of your quantum physicists, they’ll tell you.”
“What is he talking about?” the officer mumbled.
“The two of you,” Charlie continued, “are not wearing two outfits that look like exact matches. You’re literally wearing the same exact outfit.”
“How much did you have to drink?” Julie asked the officer who shrugged his shoulders.
The officer leaned over and asked Julie, “Is his last name Daniels?”
“Yes, Charlie Daniels,” she replied.
“Oh, hello ociffer. I thought you left,” he said despite the fact that he stood near police car in handcuffs. “This is that girl I told you about that was waiting for me in the motel room.”
“I bet she was,” the officer looked her over. “Alright young lady, you’re under arrest, too.”
Julie looked over her clothes once again. “Oh no, officer. This is a mistake. I’m not a hooker or anything. I’m wearing the same clothes as her,” she said as she pointed toward the actual hooker, “because he thought of me in them.”
“Ah, ha! Why don’t you go down to the station with your friend and settle this,” the officer said.
“I asked him about the attempted suicide incident. He’s going to look into it for me.”
“Shhhh, Charlie,” Julie said quietly.
“Alright, into the cruiser, both of you,” the officer motioned.
“Can we just pay you off and walk?” Charlie asked remembering the conversation Mr. Costea had with his friends when they burst into Jim’s Place.
“Shhhh,” Julie reminded him again.
“I heard we can just pay ‘em off and walk. It’s that simple,” Charlie whispered, loudly.
“Charlie, just shut up and sing to me,” Julie said.
“Thank you, miss,” the officer thanked her for helping.
“You want me to sing to you?” Charlie asked as he stumbled over the curb against the cop car again with a glazed look of happiness.
“If you don’t get into that cruiser, I’ll arrest you both for resisting arrest, also,” the officer stated harshly.
“Yes Charlie. Sing now, as loud as you can,” she said as she pulled a tissue out of her purse and plugged her ears.
He began to sing Air Supply’s Sweet Dreams. The officer let go of the door and covered his ears. The crowd began to run and the other officer ducked behind the car. The one on the horse was startled and hanging on for dear life as his horse bolted away. Julie grabbed the keys from the officer’s belt and struggled to unlock the handcuffs as he sang.
Julie dropped the handcuffs and key, took his hand and began to run, “Come on, Charlie, keep singing as loud as you can.”
Charlie sang louder, shattering the windows of the cruiser. They continued running as the car alarms went off and the officers waited behind in horror. Shopkeepers locked their doors and hid inside.
“Keep singing Charlie, we’re not in the clear yet.”
They ran all the way back to the motel. When they arrived, Charlie staggered in the doorway and looked at Julie.
“Juliet, you look like a hhhhuker. A huuu…why do you have tissue in your ears?”
She pulled the tissue out as Charlie attempted to cross the room. It was funny how he could run all those blocks down the busy sidewalks and only now did he stagger across the room. He tripped over his own feet and Julie caught him in her arms. He stood up straight and held her head in his hands, then he said with a smile and laughter, “I love you, Juliet.”
Then he kissed her on the lips, long and hard the way lovers do. Julie kissed him back then stopped him. “Kiss me when you’re sober, Charlie.”
“Okay,” Charlie said with a smile as he stumbled to the bed and fell over.
Julie took off his shoes and pulled the covers over him.
Charlie mumbled to her quoting the end of the Air Supply song, “Sleep like a child resting deep. You don’t know what you give me, I keep for these moments alone.”
She was not sure what he was saying. Perhaps it had something to do with the song or perhaps something he felt toward her, or both. She was just glad he didn’t sing it. She sat next to him on the bed and watched television until the sun went down. Then she lay down next to him stroking his hair. “I love you too, Charlie,” she whispered and fell asleep.
Chapter 23
Charlie woke up the next morning with Julie’s arm around him. He lifted her arm and slid over to try to avoid waking her. However, his head was still spinning from the alcohol. He fell out of bed, crashing into the nightstand.
“You okay, Charlie?” she asked, brushing the hair out of her sleepy eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered as he stood up, walked backward, and tripped over the corner of the other bed, falling onto the floor again.
Julie sat up and watched him. He seemed overly nervous. He walked into the bathroom and shut the door. Julie heard the sink water running, and then she heard him fall again, the shower curtain being torn from the rings, and soap bottles tumbling into the bathtub.
She ran to the bathroom, knocked, and opened the door. Charlie was lying on the shower curtain in the bathtub with one leg over the edge, calmly brushing his teeth.
“You okay?”
“Just brushing my teeth. I’m thinking about taking a shower next,” he answered.
“Alright, let me know if you need anything.”
Charlie smiled with the toothbrush in his mouth and nodded as she shut the door. He stood up, panicked for a moment, and then calmly went about his business.
When he was finished showering, Julie asked, “So how did it go with Mr. Costea? Seems like you had fun.”
“I think I’m going to take a break from him for a little while. He got quite upset with me when I mentioned his son.” Charlie sat on the opposite bed. Julie was excited to hear him say he would take a break, which might mean more time with her.
“You don’t have to feel awkward around me.” She sat next to him and began rubbing his shoulders. “It’s okay—the things you said to me,” she added.
“What did I say?”
“You told me you love me. It seemed like you meant it,” she said.
“The things we say when we’re drunk. That’s why I don’t drink,” he said. Julie stopped rubbing his shoulders and became irritated.
“What
is going on?” she asked. “Last night you kissed me, told me you loved me, and today you won’t even look in my eyes. What is this, Charlie? What are we doing?”
“We’re just living…as friends,” he said, igniting her irritation to a near rage.
“I’m laying all my cards on the table,” she said. She knelt before him and continued. “I love you, Charlie Daniels. I can say it sober as well as drunk. Do you love me? Can you say it sober?”
Charlie hesitated then stumbled through his words, “Love is a strange thing, Juliet. It’s a word that means so many different things. Even if I say it, you wouldn’t really know what I meant by it. Love is different for everyone.”
“Why must you philosophize everything?” She stood brusquely, folding her arms over her chest. “What did you mean by it last night?”
“I don’t know, I was drunk,” he said.
“It’s just something you say when you’re drunk?” she said angrily. She opened her arms again. “What is wrong with me? Why don’t you want me?”
Charlie remained silent. He did not want to hurt her in any way. He collected his thoughts and said, “It’s not you, Juliet, it’s me.”
“What? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“But it’s true. I cannot be with anyone. You are a wonderful, attractive person, but I am only here for a short while…to serve others.”
“To serve others,” Julie whispered. “You say you spent eternity helping others but what about yourself? How can you help others find something you have never had yourself? You’re human now, and you of all people deserve love. I don’t know if you’re Cupid or not and I don’t care. You’re probably just a crazy person, but I see you as the perfect person for me. There’s nothing else I could ask for in a person. I love you. Why don’t you face the fact that you love me, too?”
“I am an angel. A god. I do not fall in love with humans,” he said with irritation in his own voice.
“But you did. You loved me when you saw me on the bus. You loved me then and you love me now. I know you do. You just won’t let yourself cross that line,” Julie argued.
A New York Romance Page 13
