Friday, October 03, 2003

Adolpho’s Big Finish

For the past week I’ve been giving myself a break from blog guilt - that irking sense that I should be writing for this site and posting my thoughts.  I’ve still been writing and thinking of a lot of things I might have posted if I didn’t have an ulterior agenda, and it’s been interesting to sit back and watch how my mind craves, gropes for tidbits to share, how I feel empty when I’m unconnected and how my connection is somehow perceived to be related to my ability to share goofball news stories and silly rants.  Those things don’t really put me in touch with anybody or anything.  The connection is personal, and the blog is just a medium.  Yet it’s also a tool - a tool which has helped me improve my writing, if only technically. (I’m guessing I’m beyond repair when it comes to actually improved content, but de gustubus non disputandum.) So now I approach the end of my workweek and the last day I’d expect to post during this New Year’s retreat from quotidianialia. Have I grown, learned anything?  I’m still in the midst of it, so I’ll defer the question - maybe I’ll have something to say about it next week when I return on Tuesday, after a day of fasting and rememberance and self-examination - an intensive one-day version of the whole 10 day process. 

In the meantime, I’ve been dribbling along with a little story that’s been the sum total of my posts for the past five days, starting last friday.  If you want to go back and read the introduction and first four chapters, they’re right below this post in reverse order.  But my ol’ buddy Adolpho has asked me to help him get through his complicated evening, and I’m inclined to help him - I’m just a helpful guy when it comes to this sort of thing, I suppose.  So here we go with Chapter the Last:

ADOLPHO’S BIG NIGHT, Part V:  The One

Adolpho had been bopping along to the beat, resting his eyes and savoring the physical sensation of a deep, strong bass line.  As he raised his glass to drain the final mouthful of lager, he stepped back for balance.  He shoulder bumped into something warm and pliant.  Turning, he saw a young woman standing inches away, her back to him.  She was looking down at herself with consternation, her amber hair outshining the club�s soft lighting.  �Are you okay?,� he asked, almost stammering.  He hadn�t bumped into her very hard, but it was clear as she turned slightly in his direction that he�d hit her hard enough � her simple dress glistened with the beer that had till moments before been sloshing quietly in her glass.  She raised her eyes to look at him and he saw no emotion on her face.  This he took to be a bad sign � he could defuse anger, or cater to frustration, but the absence of emotion was not something he was ready to deal with � especially on such a lovely face. She had dark eyes, olive skin, and full lips that she�d compressed together tightly.

�I�m so sorry,� Adolpho continued, �let me buy you another drink.� She continued to stare at him, her eyes burning holes in his.  �What were you drinking?  I�ll set you right up,� he struggled to continue, as he asked himself, �What have I done?  Is she really so angry with me?� As if in slow motion, she turned fully to face him, her hair sweeping her shoulder and her hips swiveling parallel to his.  With breathtaking grace, her face broke into a broad smile, eyes brightening and lips parting to reveal even white teeth.  �Hi, I�m sorry, what did you say?� she asked ingenuously.  �I just wasn�t � I didn�t expect to � anyway, I�m sorry, what did you say?� She put a finger to her hair, then quickly withdrew it.  Adolpho started again: �I was apologizing, I bumped into you and made you spill � “

She laughed lightly and put her hand on his arm.  �Oh no, you didn�t bump into me.  I got in your way and spilled all over myself.  I�m so clumsy. I�m sorry.  Here, your glass is empty � let me get you another.  Lager, right?� �How did you know?� She blushed.  �I was listening.  When you ordered last time.� �Why?� �Oh stop, you�re embarrassing me.  Don�t make me say.� With that, she turned and went to the bar.  Adolpho watched her, feeling his pulse quicken a bit.  She ordered the drinks and got a towel from the bartender, used it to blot the moisture from her clothes.  She looked back at Adolpho and grinned, and his pulse quickened further.  She came back with two lagers and a big smile, and he followed her to a table near the front of the club.  �You don�t come here often,� she observed over the brimming glasses.  Adolpho was surprised.  �I�ve never been here before.  How did you know?,� he asked. �I�d have noticed you,� she replied, and then quickly dropped her eyes to her drink.  �I�m here every weekend and I always notice the new guys.  But I�ve never seen you.  And I wouldn�t have missed you.� She looked again at him, her gaze lingering.  �Did you come here for the dancing?,� she continued.  �What dancing?,� he asked, looking around at the crowded room.  �Come on,� she said, and, taking his hand, led him toward the front door. 

Just inside the foyer, a small staircase dropped precipitously into a dark basement.  As he followed her down into the humid space, the bright sound of live music enveloped him.  A salsa band was perched on a tiny stage at one end of the long narrow space, and the floor was filled with swirling, swaying, sweating bodies.  She smiled broadly at him, drank a substantial quantity of her beer, and pulled him onto the floor.  One hand held her pint glass, the other wrapped around his waist and pulled them tight � the only way to dance in that overcrowded space.  The music flowed through them, and he abandoned his beer so he could concentrate on moving together with her.  The songs flowed seamlessly into each other and they moved as one with a single spirit until a slow quiet number caught them holding each other close and tight.  Adolpho lifted her head from his shoulder in both his hands, and he looked deeply into her hazel eyes, and she into his of pure obsidian. 

�Why did you say I didn�t bump into you upstairs?  I really did, and I�m sorry for making you spill.� She gazed back at him and her face was peaceful and open.  �I was too close behind you.  I had been moving closer and closer for several minutes.  I wanted to be near you, to hear your voice and smell your skin.  I�m sorry � it�s an invasion, it�s terribly rude � but I just felt like I had to be near you.  And then you took one tiny step back and I wasn�t ready and I spilled my beer.  I deserved it.  What I don�t deserve � is this��, and with that she lay her head back on his shoulder and sighed deeply.  They held each other wordlessly as the music meandered.  But then the tempo began to pick up, with a hard heavy beat pounding out of the congas.  The next song would be another high-energy frenzy, but Adolpho could tell by the way they held each other that neither of them wanted that kind of experience just then. 

�Can we just go somewhere and talk a little?� he asked her as the band grew louder and more frantic.  She smiled, nodded, and, taking his hand, walked him back behind the stage, where a short hallway led to a door that opened on an alley at the rear of the club.  The air outside was warm and soft, like the hand that was leading him forward.  �My name�s Adela,� she nearly whispered as they reached the quiet of the night.  �I�m parked just behind that next building.  Where would you like to go?� Adolpho did not even consider any answer other than the honest truth: �I�m Adolpho, and I�ll go pretty much anywhere you take me.  I just got to town today so I don�t have any suggestions, but I can�t imagine anything I�d rather do than be with you, wherever you�d like to be.  I just wanted to be alone with you.� Adela dropped her eyes and squeezed his hand a little.  �There�s a waterfall just west of the city.  Most people don�t even know it�s there, but I love it.  This time of year, it�s running pretty strong.  Can I show you?� Adolpho followed her over to her car and she opened the passenger door for him.  He started to get inside, but as his face slipped passed hers, he was unable to stop himself from giving her a gentle kiss on the lips.  He felt that kiss to the soles of his feet but pulled back an inch or two, to make sure he hadn�t just gone too far.  She closed her eyes and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him back in toward her.  �Okay,� he thought to himself, �now everything is just perfect.�

Epilogue: In April ‘02 I went to Cleveland for a conference and met up with a fascinating group of colleagues from around the country.  Some of us knew each other, most of us didn’t.  We went to a Cuban restaurant for dinner one night in a part of town with which none of us was familiar, and ate very well; we repaired afterwards for drinks in the long narrow tavern area at the front of the cafe and eventually wandered down the steep foyer stairs to cap the night with some salsa dancing in a very crowded narrow room where the music was live and the mood was elated.  It was that night that I met Adolpho, who does exist.  At one point he’d evaporated from our group, and as we wondered where he’d gone we generated a few provocative possibilities which were the genesis of this story.  None of them were accurate as things turned out, but it was fun to imagine it while it lasted.  But now it’s over.  I mean, it’s all over.  The End.