STALKER

Chapter 46 - 6th July Still

"You're early," I mumbled, looking like a rabid dog, with a mouth full of toothpaste and a toothbrush hanging out the side. I flicked my head in the direction of my room and went off to the bathroom to finish up. Hair combed, teeth brushed, deodorant applied and I was ready to go and play Bob the Builder and help fix a roof, and meet Weirdos Grandmother. That last part seemed a good idea the last night, but not so much now.

"One sec more and I'll be ready," I walked into my room to find him examining the family photograph. He was so close to it, that his nose was almost pressed to it. Weirdo looked totally engrossed, his eyes had that scary intensity that prompted me to give him that name. I put on my ring and watch as I looked at him examining the photograph. I dropped my wallet and cigarettes in my jacket pocket and pulled on a chew and hid it under my jumper.

"Who are these people?" His voice was lower than usual. He stabbed the photograph with his finger, which annoyed me. I grabbed his hand and pulled it away.

"Be gentle, it's old and faded already. It doesn't need your finger all over it." It was one of my most precious possessions. I could print a hundred copies of it but it was the original, unique.

I stood beside him and relived the moment I took the photo. That brief speck of time when they were happy in a world full of dangers. "That one there is our resident ghost. That's my Granddad John. Beside him is Jules Willem, and next to him is Martin, his cousin. The two at the bottom are Jules's parents, Jacques and Martine." I felt my throat tighten. I headed for the door, it was not the time to be maudlin. "Come on let's go and do manly things. Do I get my own tool belt?"

.....

It took 10 minutes in the car with Weirdo to realise he was one of those people that liked to drive in silence. Boring! I glanced over, wondering if I should try initiating some small talk. Instead, I ended up thinking he had a nice profile and a long, elegant neck. I sat back and enjoyed the warmth of the car and the lingering scent of his cologne.  I so desperately wanted a smoke.  I pulled out my chew and started gnawing on it.  It was blue this time.

Now and then I'd look in his direction, his expressionless face stared ahead, occasionally looking at the GPS and that was it. He looked as approachable as Jason with a chainsaw. In the end, I did the same and just stared out the window. In my head, I was thinking how funny it would be to suddenly scream cowabunga and see what happens, but I didn't have a death wish. Sometimes, it doesn't pay to be spontaneous I told myself. So I stayed silent. I continued to happily gnaw on my chew.  It's a good thing I have a healthy inner life and I started daydreaming about my new bedroom furniture which was arriving in a few days. Maybe Weirdo could return the favour and help me put all the pieces together.

That thought struck me as odd.  The guy who had annoyed me so much when I first met him, who has barged into my life, now almost qualified as a friend.  We know each other well enough that I'm meeting his family today; and , actually contemplating asking him for help instead of my dad or one of my brothers.  If you take into consideration that we've shared a few meals, my deepest secret, my bed platonically, and an A+ kiss, not so platonic, one would think we were...friends.

Looking at the GPS we still had a ways to go. Did I dare speak?   "Does your mum know I'm coming to help?"

"Yes." I waited for more, but nothing came.

"Did you tell your grandmother about me?" I asked nicely.

"Yes." Waiting, waiting? Oh, well I tried.

He shifted in his seat, probably because I was annoying him by SPEAKING!!! and I got a pleasant wave of his cologne. My nose literally turned and forced my face to follow. I sniffed the air and couldn't help but think of Jules. It surprised me how clearly I could see him in my mind's eye. Every memory from every jump and dream had piled on top of each other and created a complete picture of the man.  I knew his face as well as I knew my own.  

"Your car smells nice," I said and he spared me a glance.

"You have a thing about that cologne, don't you." Wow, a whole sentence. It was my turn.

"Yes." He looked at me.

"It reminds you of your friend who wears it...right?" Weirdo remembered and he was spot on. It did.  Without warning a sharp spike of sadness stabbed me in the chest.  In an instant, I felt tears well up and I had to concentrate to push the emotion down. 

"Yes," I said. He glanced again and did a double take.

"Not a happy memory by the look on your face?" Now he bothers to talk.  I was annoyed with myself. The memory caught me by surprise and I didn't have time to control it. I'm not sure where the emotion originated, I have come to understand it's not just John's emotions I feel. I've become a sponge for all of them, Jules, Martin and the rest. I know for sure they aren't mine, but God damn it, they are so real they may as well be. Sometimes, they surface so quickly I lose perspective. There is still a big learning curve with my abilities.

I looked at him and truthfully said. "He died."  That is how to derail a conversation you don't want to have.

Weirdo just kept looking ahead.  We didn't speak again until we were parking in front of a nice two-story timber house, with a white picket fence and cottage-style flower beds on either side of a set of wide steps. I rolled down the car window and rested my arms on it, enjoying the picture postcard view. I could hear the tinkling of tiny bells from the dream catchers hanging around the verandah.

"What a cute house." I smiled at Weirdo. He'd made his mother and grandmother sound scary but the house was just so sweet.

He looked at me with an expression that made me wither. "Remember the children's story about the gingerbread house, Hansel and Gretel." I nodded.

"Keep that in mind when you go inside." Weirdo got out of the car and came around to my side and opened the door. The window came up and I very, very hesitantly got out.  

.....