A Human Element

by Donna Galanti

  Ben laughed. "Hell no, I'd take a job hauling elephant dung from the local zoo right now."

  "Well, just 'cause you're in deep shit doesn't mean you have to work in shit or shit where you work or eat shit and die or…hell, never mind." Andy chuckled. "I'll call ya in a couple days, buddy."

  Ben laughed again and hung up, glad he had called him. Andy moved in different circles since becoming an officer. Andy called him a few days later with an unusual project. A family he knew planned to head out on a six-week vacation to the Mediterranean. They were a well-off couple with two kids who wanted to take a photographer along to capture their memories. They would pay all expenses and a nice salary. It would be a dream job and the second chance Ben needed to jump back into the world of the living. He also knew Andy took a chance on him.

  "You are cleaned up, right?" Andy had to ask.

  "I am now," Ben answered. It was true he hadn't drunk since two nights ago. He went through two nights of hell to find his way back between the delirium tremors, the parched mouth thirsting for more, and the paranoia. He had been given a second chance—again.

  "But can you stay sober?"

  "Not a problem. I promise. Give me this gig, and you'll have no worries."

  And that's how he found himself two weeks later dragging his camera equipment, that had been collecting dust, and a duffel bag through the noisy, pungent-smelling Athens International Airport.

  From that moment on, Ben grew a business out of traveling with the rich on vacation. It started with one referral and another and another. His clients recognized good candid photos when they saw them and Ben's quiet way put them at ease, often not realizing he was around them capturing their intimate moments.

  From the beginning Ben made it professional, but families still remained a mystery beyond his landscape. They vibrated as a package of harmony and discord wrapped up in duty and tied with love. He wasn't part of their unit but he could be a respected partner for a short time and it was good enough for him. He became part of the living again and living good, traveling the world for free. From Paris to Rome to Nepal he lived a dream life. The world had become his home.

  And now he was back here in Hawaii. There was something full circle about that. After a day of shooting the Taylors surfing at the North Shore, he showered the sand off and caught a cab to Andy's place in Honolulu. As Ben pulled up and paid the cabby, he knew he wasn't anywhere near Hotel Street. Palm trees lined the streets in perfect alignment gracing white stucco homes with beige trim on low, wide roofs. Quiet and serene. Definitely not NoHo.

  He wondered if Hud's Place still cranked out music and drinks in the midst of hooker heaven. He guessed it did. The idea now of paying some hooker to blow him off in a seedy room when he could take care of business himself for free made him queasy. And the transvestite. He wasn't that Ben anymore, but it was hard not to think about it, being back in Hawaii. Memories hid around each corner waiting to suck him down in a monstrous undertow.

  "Ben, my man!" Andy grabbed him at the door and picked him up in a bear hug, cracking his back. He looked like the same white-blond, Norse God Ben had left seven years ago. A whisper of wrinkles graced his ice-blue eyes now, but he stood as big and tan as ever.

  "Dude, you're breaking me! How ya doin'?"

  "Well, glad to not be the same old skinny-ass James Dean wanna-be you are. What the hell have you been living on, Pez and beef jerky?"

  Nahhh…Pez is passé. It's strictly Skittles and Cheetos. I keep the maids guessing about the colorful ring I leave in the tub after peeing in it."

  "Nastier than ever I see." Andy grinned and chucked his hair. "No wonder you still can't get laid with peeing in the tub, and all."

  "Actually, the girls love it as I never leave the seat up. They think I'm sooooo polite."

  They both laughed, enjoying each other in a return to their old banter. Andy led him into a large foyer. "Seven years. I can't believe it. Way too long."

  Ben nodded. He burst with things he wanted to talk about with Andy and looked forward to the evening ahead of hanging out with his old buddy. He was the only one in his life who knew about his past. Except the Pali Lookout. He could never tell Andy about it.

  And as time went on he began to think he had created the man in black in his mind to save him. Could a figure conjured up shoot the bad asses that tried to rape you, help you dress, and then drive you home? Andy was cool though and had never pushed him to talk about that night. Andy knew memories could come back to haunt you.

  "Well, you've got some nice digs here, Lieutenant. What pirate booty ship did you jump on, sailor?"

  "Not a ship, but a world-class cruise." Andy pointed to a woman who walked into the room. Her skin glowed bronze and her black hair hung in a liquid sheath of curls cascading down a rounded body. She glided toward Ben. Perspiration twitched on his upper lip. She smiled at him with sparkling white teeth and held out her slender hand, revealing a glint of diamonds in the foyer light. Her black sloe-eyes captured his gray ones with amusement and welcome.

  "Hello, Ben Fieldstone," she said with a lilting accent.

  "Ben, this is Likini, her and I, are, well…engaged."

  Andy grinned and put an arm around the woman.

  "Nice to meet you, and congratulations." Ben shook her hand and raised his eyebrows at Andy.

  "I know, I didn't tell you." Andy said. "Well, now I am, so come on in to our place."

  They ate a traditional Polynesian feast of steamed pork, yams, and marinated fish in lemon juice and coconut cream. Likini had prepared it with a Tongan twist, reminiscent of the island she came from in the South Pacific. Ben complemented her about it several times. She was a lady and he forced himself to watch his obscene banter with Andy. He wondered if she was a lady in bed too. Knowing Andy, probably not. So he stuck to regaling them with funny travel stories from around the world and ate himself beyond full.

  No one had cooked him a meal in their home in years. He tried to remember the last time and recalled glimpses of being with his parents at their friend's house. He remembered how he would stuff himself as fast as he could with dinner and dessert, sitting politely amongst candles, listening to boring talk about the cost of furniture or cars. All the while he would shake his legs back and forth under the table waiting to be excused.

  The moment would finally come and with a whoop he'd escape to the back room to watch Hart to Hart, Fantasy Island, and sometimes, although he wouldn't admit to liking it, The Love Boat. Ensconced with popcorn and an old blanket he would pass the evening in front of the knob-controlled television while the grownups played canasta, getting louder with each drink. He liked being alone in his own world just as he liked it now.

  "Thank you again," Ben said as he got up to clear the table.

  "So many thank you's is not necessary." Likini's stilted English drawl flowed over him like smooth liquor. "But I'm glad you enjoyed it."

  Andy rolled his eyes. "He's in love with you pretty lady, plain and simple. Drooling at the mouth. Struck dumb by beauty."

  Ben looked down at the dirty dishes he held and cleared his throat.

  "It's okay, Ben." Likini smiled up at him. "It's a complement and you don't have to help with the dishes. Please, go enjoy your time with Andy. You have a lot to talk about, I can imagine."

  She swirled away in her flowing white halter dress and Ben watched, mesmerized. After he and Andy moved to the back screened in porch he had to ask his friend.

  "How did you meet her when she's from Tonga?"

  "At a command ceremony dinner," Andy explained and lit up a cigar, offering one to Ben. He puffed at it, after watching Andy do the same. A buzz filled his head mixed with the beer he had. Two became his limit nowadays and no heavy stuff. "It was held off base and she attended with her cousin who is a JAG officer here. I asked her to dance and that was it."

  Ben understood. He needed no further explanation.

  "This is her place, actually. She visited her family here years ago when she was eig
hteen and met some older captain. She ended up marrying the guy. He was killed soon after in the Persian Gulf and had a bundle of extra life insurance. So she was pretty well-off to buy a house here."

  "You're one lucky guy," Ben said and raised his beer glass. He wondered if settling down was worth it.

  "That's for sure. But what about you, man?"

  Ben half smiled and flipped his bangs up. "Women? Forget about it. I should thank you for that, again. With the travel I do, I'm never home. I actually don't have a home. When I'm between jobs I usually rent a suite for a month somewhere and relax."

  Andy studied him and leaned back, puffing on his cigar, then gazed at the blowing banyan trees silhouetted under the moon off his porch. Ben stared at them too. Banyan trees. The last time he had seen them he was being whipped, bent over a rock. He peered up toward the mountain knowing the Pali Lookout hung there over Honolulu, hiding its dirty secrets. He could see the menacing boulder in his mind waiting for its next victim to cry out on its hard surface, painting it with new blood. He looked back at Andy.

  "Listen to me, my friend." Andy leaned forward and eyed Ben. "I don't know what happened to you here, whether it had to do with your childhood or some prostitute you wronged but I think you're still running away from it. You may have cleaned up your act but you're still alone. A loner."

  This was not the conversation Ben envisioned. He didn't want to get serious. It hit him Andy had changed as much as he had in seven years.

  "So, what's wrong with that? I jet-set with the rich, see the world for free, and get paid for it. Not a bad gig and I have you to thank for it. Maybe I'm not like you."

  "You're definitely not like me, but it doesn't mean it can't be great for you too. And I'll tell you why. Because you're missing the big picture. It sounds corny, but love does make the world go 'round. You should stop running from it, and your past, and find it. Likini has changed my life."

  "Good for you. But how the hell am I supposed to have a relationship traveling all the time. And I can count on this hand the one-night stands I've had when I'm not traveling."

  "So, change your career. Give yourself a home base. You've been doing this for years now. You're smart, make a change."

  That hadn't occurred to Ben. He liked his job because he didn't have to make excuses to himself for why he couldn't settle down. He also didn't think about having a home to go to every night as well. It felt safe. Just like getting his bone smooched by hookers rather than a girlfriend had been safe, although it turned out not to be. He still ran from his past and he knew it. It hit him with clarity in an instant.

  "Likini knows my past and she's cool." Andy half-smiled at him. "Everyone has a past. It's your future you can change. You can't run forever."

  Ben nodded. The two friends sat in silence smoking and finishing their beers.

  "Just promise me you won't be heading down to NoHo while you're here." Andy joked to lighten the moment, and winked at him. "I don't want to be pulling your butt out of a jail cell. Some big Samoan might be sweet on your skinny ass and take a closer look when you're bending over to tie your shoe."

  Ben couldn't help laughing. If Andy only knew how close to the truth he came. "Yeah, no hookers for me anymore. It's just me and Rosie, all the way."

  "Dude, I'm telling you, get a regular woman. At least one you can keep on the back burner while you're traveling." He glanced toward the kitchen. "I found a real tiger in this one. She may act like a lady, but not behind closed doors!"

  Andy slapped the table and the talk moved on to lighter topics with funny stories at sea, wedding plans, and raunchy jokes. Ben needed it. Maybe he didn't have a home or a girl, but in a way Andy had become his home. For now it was enough.

  That night he dreamed. He stood at the lake on its shore. The stillness covered him in peaceful quiet. The moon shone high overhead painting the wave tops with gold that lapped at the water's edge. Something moved in the distance on the path leading around the lake. It was a girl. She walked toward him as if she knew him. Finally, she stood before him and smiled. He found himself smiling back.

  She took his hand and stared at him with her large, brown eyes. She looked so lovely. Her hand was warm in his, her touch sent waves of yearning through his body. She reached up on her toes and kissed him. He squeezed her hand and found himself kissing her back. Their tongues intertwined in a soft, embracing dance. He gave himself to her mouth, falling into her sweet wetness. She put her hand behind his neck and pulled him closer.

  "Ben, do you know what I am?" Her eyes held him in a trance.

  "What you are? What do you mean?"

  "Come with me, I'll show you."

  He followed her as she led him down the path. Then he looked up. Something green shone in the sky. The meteorite. It would crush them. She was leading them toward the spot where it would crash.

  "No!" He pulled her with him to go back.

  "Come." Her large eyes drew him into her.

  "No, follow me," Ben urged. "Can't you see, it's coming!"

  "Come." She caressed his hand. "It's where I belong. We can belong together."

  "No!" He dropped her hand and ran. His legs pumped fast over the rocks and fallen logs on the path. He turned once. She still stood there under the moon. The green thing filled the sky behind her as it streaked toward them.

  She was smiling.

  CHAPTER 11: 2001

  Laura woke up to a vicious headache. It involved the kind of pain brought on by a bad mix of tequila and beer. In the dark of her room she remembered dancing on the shuffle board table at P & G's bar with her roommate, Moe, and doing upside down margaritas. She groaned as she also remembered making out with Dennis Matthews from class and letting him feel her up at the bar. Ughh. She pulled herself up and staggered to her dresser mirror.

  She switched on the light and groaned more. She also remembered she had let him give her hickies all over her neck in the quest to make the coolest shaped one. She didn't even like Dennis. She groaned again. The only two guys she had been with in college weren't memorable. One she lost her virginity to in a walk-in closet at a house party. The other one she dated for a few months, but he went in pursuit of other girls.

  Then she remembered that Moe's parents were coming over that night to take them out for dinner to celebrate their college graduation tomorrow. How could she hide these hickies? She couldn't wear a turtleneck because a May heat wave had settled over New Paltz, hanging in the air like a fire-breathing cloud.

  Coffee, croissants, and water. Lots of water. And then more coffee. That's what she needed. She pulled on a T-shirt and jean shorts over her trim, and aching body, and inched her way to the kitchen. On the way she peered into Moe's room. The light from the hallway settled on a covered up lump in the darkened room that shifted in bed. Yep, dead to the world. She was better off not feeling this hangover. The microwave light blinked 11:15. They had five hours until Moe's parents hit town.

  She chugged down the last two aspirin she could find with a glass of water and sat down on the ragged, brown-plaid sofa in the small living room. She closed her eyes to wait for the throbbing in her head to go away. Then she would force herself to walk to The Bakery down the street to get strong coffee and croissants. It was Laura's favorite food spot in town. She craved a carb-fest of feta-spinach croissant and pesto tortellini. Then she might have the energy to clean their dirty apartment before Moe's parents came.

  The place wasn't much, but it was heaven compared to living in the dorms for two years. Her scholarship paid for most of her tuition along with her job at the campus bookstore and small student loans. The money saved from the sale of her parent's property helped pay for her living expenses.

  But in three weeks they would be moving out. Laura, to North Jersey for a job in communications with a large corporation, and Moe, to New York City for an advertising job. They would be peons making peon money to start.

  Moe and her parents had been her family for the last four years, ever since she met Moe a
s a roommate on her first day on campus. She had been a couple of days late getting there, still in shock over her parents' death. Then Moe strolled into the room all tall, blonde, and bubbly. She was built like a football player and just as loud.

  "Hey, it's the late arrival. You got a fake I.D.? Man, do I need a drink! My brain is already fried from trekking across this dinosaur of learning!"

  Laura smiled for the first time in days and found herself chugging down a pitcher of beer at P & G's bar with Moe an hour later, after forging the worst fake I.D. in the history of the school. They became best friends from the beginning.

  But on the big campus of New Paltz University Laura found herself having panic attacks getting to class. She felt terrified of crossing the campus amongst thousands of other people. Sitting in large lecture halls freaked her out. She felt trapped. The sweat would trickle down her armpits and the tickle in her throat would rise to a crescendo of spastic coughing attacks.

  She would then flee the classroom as hundreds stared at her. Many days she retreated in her dorm room to eat Ramen noodles and watch Mr. Ed and The Addams Family on Moe's little black and white television all afternoon. It never occurred to her she bore a heavy burden grieving alone. Then the day came Moe yelled at her for not going to class.

  "Why don't you go to class? You think you'll get to be the big-time reporter you want to be so bad if you skip class?" Moe glared at her, a backpack slung over her shoulder ready to head to class. "Are you too good to go? Is that it? Too smart for your own good? Because if you don't go they are going to start failing you and then what? Back home to the boonies you say you come from?"

  "No." Laura huddled under the blanket with some dumb romance book. It took her mind off serious stuff.

  "Well, I know for a fact you have journalism class in twenty minutes and that comforter is stuck to you like a wedgie in the crack of a sweaty, fat kid's ass."