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[i]☼ ○ ▬
With Darren and Rachel in the backseat of a car – a few guys
in the front that we sort of know. Driving down a long country road along the
beach – escaping from something. It’s understood Rachel and Darren have been
romantically and sexually involved. Rachel, out of the blue, confesses to
having relations with somebody else that we know. Darren reacts angrily but
maybe sarcastically too. I can’t tell.
Rachel: “I’m sorry, Darren.”
They lean in and exchange a lather of tongues as if
everything is all right.
I chime in, “Darren gets really mad but he’s a rational guy. Don’t hurt him.”
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up around 1 p.m.
Instant Cinnamon Oatmeal. Peach. Orange Juice.
Cleaning up and organizing.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Potato Chip Trio.
Honey Oolong Tea.
Errands. Grocery store hopping.
While catching up on some writing my bedroom door opens
suddenly. It’s Anthony...along with Rachel, Skippy, and Lauren Lowery (our old
nanny).
Me: “Since when did my room become the living room?”
Anthony: “Since you left your door unlocked.”
For a while people hang out in here. Some leave. Skippy
sparks an interest in my book collection. I let him borrow Life of Pi. I
hear the sound of a familiar 90’s tune coming from downstairs.
Me: “Does Anthony ever not play The Wallflowers in a
sitting?”
Skippy: “Oh that’s The Counting Crows.”
Me: “Oh shit. You’re right. Well, the same question can be
used there.”
[Haha]
I pick up Aysena from her house and bring her back here. We
had plans to watch a movie and spend the night together but first, a dinner
party. She helps me prep vegetables for the Shrimp Sinigang dish I’m cooking.
Sharing Raspberry Shock Top beers. There’s a crowd of people roaming around –
marker and crayon art being drawn on the table. Rachel cooks a vegan stir-fry
dish to go along with what I’m making.
...
I chose to wear this white sushi chef cloak. Jess Potter
comments, “Robert, you look like that Seinfeld episode.”
Rachel bursts out in laughter, “Bahaha!”
...
Darren: “You know what I like? I like when I eat something
and then the next day I really regret it.”
Me: “You like that huh?”
Darren: “Yeah like when I’m sitting on the toilet and really
regret all those decisions that I made the night before.”
...
Everyone at the table sharing the food and obnoxious
conversation about whatever’s clever. Anthony thought it clever to put on a
Paul Simon record. The food is exceptionally spicy for my taste but I seem
alone in my experiences.
...
I migrate upstairs to my room. Aysena meets me inside and
surprises me with, “I wanna go home.”
I’m confused, “What? What’s wrong?”
She repeats, “I wanna go home.”
Me: “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
She just keeps repeating this sound, “m-m,” meaning she
doesn’t want to say. I feel an uncomfortable pang shoot down my spine.
Something has shifted in the air between us. She just stands there hiding
behind her ominous head of black hair twirling the strands between her frail
fingers. This isn’t some casual discrepancy. It’s a realization that she’s come
to which has altered her perspective on anything between us surviving.
Then she mutters something that sounds like right much.
Me: “Huh? What? What did you just say?”
She repeats but it still sounds the same.
Me: “I don’t understand. Right much?” Then it becomes clear,
“Ooooh. Right MATCH. You think we’re not right match?”
Her: “Mhm.”
I feel defeated. After some patient prying on my end I’m
able to sit us down on the bed and get a better glimpse into what she’s
feeling. She explains that it’s difficult to hang out with me. This is
disquieting news and seems to have come out of nowhere. It’s completely
opposite of the positive experiences we’ve had together. I know the language
barrier has something to do with it but she adds another reason, “You are so
different.”
Me: “We’re different? Yes of course.”
Her: “I can’t understand you sometimes.”
...
My first worry is that maybe her being here in this house
with all the social chaos is a bit overwhelming...but that’s not it exactly.
...
Her: “I feel like it’s not my—how to say? Area. You’re so
different...from my world. And it’s not easy to enter into your world.”
Me: “It’s not easy to enter into my world?”
Her: “Yes. And you do it so fast. I’m not sure that you
are...mine. I want to know you first then your friends.”
Me: “Yes. You want to know me.”
Her: “Yes.”
Me: “You see friends differently?”
Her: “Mhm. If my friend were here I would introduce you when
I’m sure that you’re good person. That’s it.”
I think maybe she places an importance on getting to know
somebody one-on-one before getting to know their friends. It’s hard to
understand but I definitely sense a cultural contrast when revealing
significant others to friends. She feels that me introducing her to my friends
is too soon? I don’t know.
Her: “It’s too soon and I’m not ready to be their friend.”
I try to explain that this is a unique household situation
that I live in.
Her: “I don’t know how to behave myself.”
This whole moment is unsettling because I think I understand
what she’s feeling but I don’t know what I can do to alleviate it. I can tell
she’s exhausted.
“I’m tired,” she exclaims and just falls backwards at the
foot of the bed. Silence. I run my hand through her black ocean of hair and
caress her back while she drifts off to dreamland. Wow. I didn’t see all of
that coming. I reflect at the computer.
I join some of the commotion downstairs and attempt to
relieve my anxieties with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It’s calmed down at
this point, just Jessa, Jordan, Calum, and Rachel at the card table. Rachel
discovers one of the mini potatoes in the marker container she helped paint a
few months ago. She turns to me and asks, “Robert, let’s plant a mini potato
tree.”
Me: “I’m not feeling mystical, Rachel! I’m feeling angsty.”
Rachel: “Robert’s crotchety!”
To elaborate I draw a picture (see above photo). Rachel does
too...
[ii]
Aysena is all curled up under the sheets. Despite her
anxiety about things she ended up sleeping here. I join her at 3:39 a.m.
[i] Marker art
by me.
[ii] Marker art
by me.
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