Feel Me Don't You

Freshly showered and still basking in the afterglow of the events from earlier that morning, Kat stood before the open side-by-side stainless steel refrigerator swinging the door back and forth in time with the tune jingling through her head. She scanned the contents of the fridge and near-imperceptibly sang to herself, “You got so much love in you. You got so much love in you. I’m amazed that I’m talkin’ to you. You look like the songs that I’ve heard my whole life coming true.” With her left elbow resting on the freezer door, she corralled her damp brunette hair behind her ear before resting her chin on her palm. She was so focused on what to eat for breakfast – which, according to the 12:15 displayed on the stove’s clock, should really be considered brunch – that she didn’t notice Marshall sneaking up behind her until he had wound his arms around her waist and said, “I don’t think anyone has ever made that jersey look so damned good! Not even Walter.” While he was finishing his shower, she had quickly thrown on his Bears jersey, which proudly displayed the number 34 and the name Payton, and hurried out to the kitchen to surprise him with something to eat before they headed out for the day.

Marshall thanked her for the thought by closing the door and spinning her around, forcing her back against the refrigerator careful to miss the door handles. Pinning her hands against the door just above her head, he locked eyes with her as he inched slowly toward her. Agonizingly. Slowly. He placed the softest kiss upon her chin then proceeded to kiss along her jaw line up to her left ear. Every ounce of breath instantly evacuated her lungs and she turned her head to the right, arched her back into him, and drew her right leg up and hooked it behind his knees to pull him closer. He gently nipped her lobe as the heat of his breath brought these words from his lips, “Thank you for the thought…” Another warm breath carried, “but we need to get going…” A tender kiss, then “if we’re going to get you to the flea market.” She shuddered and turned to face him before fusing her lips and body to his.

Moments later and against every urge within her, she pulled away from him and said, “Ugh! You’re mean!” His feigned look of innocence was his only reply. “Don’t even pretend you can wear a halo after what you just did!” she said as she playfully slapped at him. This brought a full-belly laugh from each of them as they twined their hands and headed back to the bedroom to change. As they passed several rooms, she noted his eclectic, perhaps even mismatched decor. Not wanting to delay their afternoon further, she made a mental note to investigate further when they returned. They both layered their attire appropriately, perfect for an extended period in the cool Fall weather of one of the final open-air flea markets of the season.

The trip to the flea market included their always engaging style of conversation but was otherwise uneventful as Marshall guided his black 2008 Honda Civic Hybrid through the lazy Sunday drivers. In fact, there were only two items of particular note about the entire drive there. First, Marshall is a man who lives by few rules. However, one of them is if you’re the driver, you have control of the stereo – no arguments, no discussion. Perhaps it was the newness of their relationship or more likely he simply trusted her, but he willingly forfeited that control to Kat. Second, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It wasn’t a biological imperative, it was a skin craving – a dermal magnetism. Not even the wonders of the flea market could break their connection for very long.

The flea market was as it usually was – loud, dingy, and crowded with colorful characters. Kat truly didn’t enjoy shopping, but when she succumbed to its sway, she was unrivaled at finding bargains. She didn’t go in for the standard haggling over junk that was the norm, but revelled in finding those unique fixer-upper projects. She relished relics, but even an item with an intriguing look or story would suit her. More appealing to her than the objects found at the flea market were the people – the vendors, the thrift-seekers, everyone. Amidst the bustle of the market, she delighted in casually sauntering about with a delicious coffee in hand and being entertained by the other bargain hunters. Quirks, foibles, motivations, dialects – she was fascinated by it all, sometimes distractingly so. She was particularly captivated by a young, down-on-their-luck, couple from Anytown, USA whom she had overheard comparing and contrasting items from what they would soon learn to be, to their brief embarrassment, a refuse pile. She wanted a better grasp of their discussion, so she moved as quickly and surreptitiously as possible towards them. It wasn’t until she blindly collided into another young woman and spilled a portion of her coffee on her that the enchantment was broken. Kat wasn’t as graceful as her name might allude, in fact, her many bruises branded her a klutz. She apologized quickly and profusely before really noticing the young woman. Her attention was instantly riveted once more.

Standing before Kat was the diminutive young woman named Delirium whose appearance, if one so desired to utterly understate, was eye-catching. Her long, blonde, wavy tresses were interspersed with sections of rainbow-hues on the right half while its left counterpart remained short, blonde, and spiked. Her attire was what some deem “hobo chic” – a mish-mash of older, not quite “vintage” clothing, disheveled, and not so much looking dirty as worn. At the moment, Delirium clad herself in a mid-calf length beige knit sweater which draped over her fishnet unitard and yellow and purple diamond-patterned skirt. She was also barefoot and oblivious to the chill in the air. One of Delirium’s more striking features, however, were her eyes that glinted like jewels – they shone as a pale emerald and sapphire in her right and left eye respectively. The other striking feature was her speech.

“Oh no! It’s sprinkling brown.” said Delirium. “Sometimes I wish it would sprinkle other colors like red or green or clear or butterflies or fish because that would be fun and I would be happy. Wouldn’t that make you happy?” she said to Kat. Taken aback, the only reply Kat could muster was a few blinks. She opened her mouth to speak then closed it again. She opened her mouth once more.

“I’m so sorry I spilled coffee on you, I didn’t see you there.” said Kat finally as she hunted for a napkin or anything that would blot the caffeinated wetness that was now hunkering down in Delirium’s clothing. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” said Kat. She worriedly scanned the market for a place to sit down and better assess if she had given the young woman a concussion. Marshall, who had been off picking up an item he found interesting, had finally returned and was right behind Kat to witness the event unfolding but was unable to articulate a warning fast enough to avert the collision. In fact, it was lucky that he was able to avoid adding his own mass to the incident. Recognizing Kat’s furtive glances, he guided them to a bench just on the fringe of all the market vendors.

“Here we go”, said Marshall, “is there anything we can do for you? Something we can get you or someone we could call?”

“It’s okay, I’m right as rain. Right as rain. Right as rain! What does that mean, right as rain? Are there times when rain is wrong?” said Delirium. “No! How can rain be wrong when it feeds the little plants and gives homes to the little fishies? Rain can’t be wrong. It can’t be! Sometimes I forget things.”

Kat and Marshall gave each other a look of extreme concern.

Delirium, finally getting a good look at Marshall, said “Hey, I know you! You’re the charming man. The CHARMING man! The cee aych ay arr, um, emm, um, eye enn gee man! Can you help me find my doggie? He was here. And then he wasn’t. I really miss him and that makes me sad.”

Bewildered, Marshall said, “Uh, sure. What’s your doggie’s name and what does he look like? While we’re on the topic, what’s your name?”

Delirium giggled. “My name is Dee ee”, she said before her attention was broken. “There he is! Wait, is that him? His name is Barny something and I miss him and he misses me. Sometimes I forget things. I think that’s him!” With that, she quickly stood and bounded off into the crowd.

Kat and Marshall scrambled after Delirium. Although she was petite and the crowd was thick, surely the two of them could catch up to this unmistakable young woman and get her the medical attention she so clearly needed. After thirty minutes of searching, they gave up the hunt and returned to each other. Marshall began, “Well that” and Kat finished “was weird.” They laughed and headed for the car.

Other than the gentle clatter of their purchases in the back seat, the ride back to Marshall’s was quiet. Kat ran her left hand through Marshall’s hair as he relaxed to her touch and placed his right hand on her leg to give her a light massage. Magnetism. Kat finally broke the silence. “How do you know Dee?” she said. There wasn’t a hint of jealousy or accusation in her voice, just simple curiosity.

Marshall scanned his memory for a moment before simply stating, “I don’t. I’ve never seen her before in my life.”

“But she said you were the charming man. She was quite emphatic as though you’d known each other a long time”, Kat said, “Are you sure you’ve never met her? Perhaps in passing? Maybe you helped her out of a jam at one time? She seems like the type who might find herself in some precarious position from time to time.”

“Nope”, said Marshall, “I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out that very same thing and I’m coming up blank. Honestly, I don’t think I could ever forget someone who dressed or spoke like Dee, do you?”

“Good point, Mr. Jackson”, said Kat as she chuckled and smiled a big, goofy smile. For some inexplicable reason, addressing him so formally pleased something within her fiercely. With that, not another word was spoken the remainder of the trip. Lost in their own thoughts, they were contented to soak in the sounds of the road, skin on fabric, and fingernails across a scalp.

Arriving back at the ranch-style house, Marshall parked his car in the two car garage. After turning off the ignition, he sped to the other side of the car to open Kat’s door. She appreciated the little gestures more than anything. In fact, when it came to the little things, they were both of the same opinion. People often make grand sweeping gestures only when they are in trouble or want to cover their actions for awhile. The little things mean more, show more consideration for the other person. They grabbed the bags from the back seat and headed inside.

Once inside the kitchen, a realization struck them that, in the wake of their interaction with Delirium, they had no idea what the other had bought. Kat, with child-like glee, opened her bag first and produced a number of picture frames of varying sizes and colors. The only similarity all the frames shared was the ornate detail hand-carved along the edges. It was often quite intricate detail and showed a high level of craftsmanship. Next, Marshall produced a small bag and from within it came two pieces. It was two halves of a small crystal tiger that had been split from front to back diagonally at the center. Since it was broken, Marshall had paid a pittance figuring he could glue it back together. Like so many things, he didn’t care if wasn’t perfect, he liked it. Kat was taken with the crystal tiger’s simple beauty and said, “Where is that little guy going?”

Marshall said, “I have a menagerie of sorts in my office down the hall. He’ll go with the other animals in there.”

“Oh, I only caught a glimpse of your office when we left this morning. Mind showing it to me?” Kat said.

“Sure, come on.” said Marshall as he grabbed her hand and led her down to the office. He opened the door fully and ushered Kat inside.

“Wow”, said Kat as she took in the contents of the room. Her thoughts of an eclectic style earlier that day didn’t come close to describing this office. Amongst the standard modern technical trappings were a collection of animals, plants, and objets d’art spanning multiple cultures. Other than the modern items, nothing in this office matched anything else. Kat scanned the room and noted: a jade cricket, a pair of quartz dolphin bookends, an obsidian scarab hanging on the wall, a marble ladybug and dragonfly, a porcelain elephant, a glass-blown pig, a turquoise tortoise, a small ruby bat, a painted dragon on a wooden pedestal which faced away from the door and window, a bust of Buddha, a necklace with a St. Christopher medallion, a necklace with a clockwise swastika, a red Chinese lantern, a dream catcher, and a horseshoe. Most of the animals were placed in a makeshift bamboo jungle she noted.

“How did you come by all of this? What made you decide on these specific pieces?” she said. Her curiosity was most assuredly piqued.

“I wish I could tell you an extravagant tale about how they each came into my possession,” he said, “but the honest truth is they just called to me. Each time I saw one of the pieces, something inside me compelled me to pick them up. Even if I had something else in my hand, invariably I would find one of these pieces and pay for it instead.”

“Well it may not be extravagant, but it certainly is puzzling how they managed to pull your attention away from other items”, said Kat, “It’s kind of eerie. Kind of cool. Interesting arrangement.”

Marshall chuckled, smiled, and said, “If you say so. It just seemed natural to me that the animals would be in a jungle or forest, you know? The animals wouldn’t adhere to their normal predatory or territorial instincts, they’d get along peacefully here. Sure, they might growl at each other, but they wouldn’t attack.” Marshall grabbed the front half of the crystal tiger and walked it through the bamboo growling at the other animals. A growling returned that surprised him. He quizzically looked up at Kat and realized it was her stomach that had returned his call of the wild. She sheepishly grinned at him.

“Would you mind helping me glue the tiger together before we make dinner? I have trouble keeping the pieces together and getting the excess glue removed sometimes.” Marshall said.

“I will absolutely help you.” Kat said. The crystal tiger was then glued and cleaned up in no time and they headed off to the kitchen hand-in-hand never noticing the soft hum now emanating from the office. They were so distracted by each other during dinner – a bottle of wine and sharing stories of their past – that they didn’t hear that hum slowly growing louder. As the night wound to a close, they kissed goodbye passionately as Marshall held open the door to Kat’s car. Marshall returned inside as Kat headed home. They were certain this was their best weekend to date and still the hum grew louder. After cleaning up the last remnants from the weekend, Marshall headed to his bedroom where he undressed, donned a t-shirt and shorts, and laid down with the largest smile upon his face. Had he been paying attention, he would certainly have investigated the growing chaos emanating from his office. Had he gone to his office, he would have witnessed an unearthly green, crackling glow that accompanied the eerie hum as it slowly fused each end of the crystal tiger working its way to the center. With thoughts of Kat on his mind, he missed those points coming together in the center for one final flash which released an enormous energy bubble that shot out faster than any wave from a nuclear bomb.

Yeah, some people are just lucky that way.

(Again thank you, Neil, for your inspiration)