Why I came to your house to play...a work in progress

The mist of the early evening held tightly to the moisture from the late afternoon rain. The air clung to the leaves and the grass. The wrought iron benches were damp with droplets of moisture that reflected the street lights. The reflection gave the appearance of tiny lights decorating the dark gray benches. The benches were supplied by the city and placed at intervals along the sidewalks of the main route through the downtown shopping areas. They were made to be ornamental but with the accessibility to allow tired shoppers the chance to rest from their tasks should they desire.
The well-dressed woman stood by the bench and decided not to sit. Antoine had agreed they would meet in front of the book store at 7:00, but he was no where to be seen and it was already 7:15. She was trying not to be impatient, but she wanted to meet and get this over with...she had many other things she could be doing instead of shivering in the evening air while the dampness made a mess of her hair. She knew she should have brought an umbrella, but she had made the decision not to go back into the house to retrieve one once she was on her way to her car in the driveway.
As her watch ticked away the minutes, she wondered why she had agreed to do this anyway. Did she really believe the man she knew only as Antoine would do what he promised he could do? Well, she was standing in front of a closed bookstore waiting in the mist wasn't she?

A slight-built man sporting a tiny mustache high on his top lip stood in the doorway of the delicatessen 1/2 block from the bookstore on Main St. The shadow cast by the large sign above the door gave him a place in which to conceal himself.
He had promised Karel Dewhurst he would meet her in front of the bookstore at 7:00, but he now watched from the shadow to see how she was handling the wait. He and Karel were only slight acquaintances—only having been introduced at a party at the home of a mutual friend three days ago. But, he had something she needed. He watched as she looked down at the wet bench and contemplated sitting down for only a second, he knew she wouldn't sit...she had no way to dry the moisture away. There wasn't a snowball's chance in Ecuador that she would chance ruining the silk skirt she was wearing.

It was 7:15 and Antoine knew the woman was impatient...but would she wait for him? She cast only a short shadow by the street lamp above her. Suddenly she turned taking five quick steps toward him. He sucked into the corner of the shadow. She turned and easily paced five steps back to the bench. The man leaned back toward the edge of the door facing. Karel opened her purse. She took something out--a stick of gum. Antoine was surprised. He would not have guessed she even chewed gum, much less in public. She unwrapped the gum; rolled it into a tight roll; she clinched it for a second between her top and bottom teeth before taking it fully into her mouth to chew. She very painstakingly folded the foil back into the shape it had been in around the stick of chewing gum. She then slid the foil back into the paper that had been around it. She tucked it into a side pocket of her hand bag.

The man let a smile play around the corners of his thin lips. Just as he suspected, this woman was a little obsessive/compulsive. He also knew she would not chew the gum long enough to extract the flavor from it before she threw it away. He tried to imagine her "spitting" the gum into the trash can next to her, but he could not. He could picture her taking out the wrapper she had so neatly stowed in her purse and wrapping the gum in it prior to throwing it away...Karel Dewhurst was not the kind of woman who would "spit" anything out. She turned on her heel and walked five steps back toward the delicatessen. Then six, she stopped turned her watch face toward the light from the street lamp. It was 7:30. Antoine again drew his body tightly against the corner of the shadow.

The woman let out the breath she had unconsciously been holding. The illumination from the street lamp let her read her watch. The light of day had begrudgingly let go and the darkness of evening had stealthy slipped in. The woman thought how quickly the spring would turn to summer and the light would hold the night at bay a couple more hours. She loved the summertime and all the activities it would bring. Springtime, though, was her favorite season. She wished the mild weather and the earth's awakening from the cold winter's sleep would last a few weeks longer. It was a time of hope and renewal within her own body as well, she thought. She needed that time now.

She felt embarrassed to have gone this far and waited on someone she really knew little about. The woman’s chagrin melted quickly as she became indignant at being such a fool. The scrawny little twit had kept her waiting for half and hour. Seldom did Karel Dewhurst wait on anything or anyone for half an hour with what she considered of such little worth behind it.

She would wait no longer. She took another step—a long step toward her car parked two blocks east of where she waited. She stopped; slipped her fingers into the side pocket of her hand bag. Retrieving and unfolding the gum wrapper, which had been stowed there earlier, she reached to her mouth and quickly removed the gum directly into the foil. As she passed the trash receptacle she casually dropped her tiny package into it without breaking her stride. She walked quickly toward the white BMW patiently awaiting her return. The sound of her heels on the cement sidewalk echoed against the store fronts.
The woman met few other people along the sidewalk. The larger department stores and discount stores outside of town had drawn most of the shopping business away from the specialty shops in the downtown area. The malls and shopping plazas had sprung up in Davenport Falls just the past 7 or 8 years. Davenport Falls was getting too large for Karel. She was born here and grew up here. The only time she had lived elsewhere was while she was at college and the first year and a half of her marriage.

Karel and Quentin had met while attending the University of Michigan. She had undertaken studies in the College of Literature, Science and the Arts and was part of the LS&A honors program there. Quentin Paul Silverton III, at the age of 19, was already working toward his PhD in business administration in the Horace H. Rackham School for Graduate Studies. Quentin graduated high school at the age of 14 started attending the University with the fall semester after his graduation. His analytical mind kept him quite organized. He was very neatly dressed in only the finest of fashions and labels. His shoes were of Italian origin made of only the finest leather. If he were to appear in a magazine, Karel once made the observation, he would have by-passed GQ and insisted on Forbes and, she was sure, he probably only wrapped his high-end garbage in the Wall Street Journal. The college Freshman was sure this brainiac was probably also a high-end social snob. But she was totally enamored with him even though she had never spoken to him nor had she been spoken to by him.

Standing by her car, Karel reached into her bag to retrieve the keys. She could not help taking one more look to see if the weasley little man had shown up. Antoine was no where to be seen. Feelings of mortification beset her once again. How dare that jerk stand her up! Well, she didn't really need him anyway. She could take care of this one little chore herself.
Karel started the engine and pulled the gear shift into drive. She headed for home and to her husband whom she knew would be home by now. He would not, however, be patiently waiting for her. He probably was not aware she wasn't in the house. Quentin would be in his study immersed in whatever project he was interested in at this particular time. Dinner would be holding. The cook would be impatient to serve. Karel didn't care if the chicken was dry and the vegetables soggy. She really didn't want to eat anyway, and Quentin would eat his meal with little notice as to what he was consuming. The two of them would attempt to make small talk sound meaningful until each of them would go their separate ways for the evening. Karel would retire to her bed suite to read, watch television, or talk on the phone. Tonight she had no plans to go out. Quentin would return to his study until he was satisfied that his project would survive without him until the next day.

This blog in under construction..please come back to view the progress! TTFN