No Strings

CHAPTER 5--Girl and Boy watch Scholocky Movies Together

Sunday afternoon after I'd skipped going to church, William entered the living room and sat on the couch while I watched my dose of TV movies. He had a notepad and a pen.

William was making a click-click with his pen. I clenched my teeth and hugged my pillow tighter. The clicking stopped.

"If you're upset, tell me."

I was used to bottling up my feelings. "I'd like it if you didn't click your pen while I am watching TV." I felt good saying it.

"OK. Thanks for telling me."

Somehow I found this as a shock. He got up and put aside his pen.

"Why are you watching this?" He looked up from his work.

Lifetime television was playing a movie on physical abuse.

"I'm bored out of my mind and want to veg."

He didn't say anything and let the movie pass until we got to the commercial. The drek washed over me. The commercials promised woman's products like make up, tampons and other things that men wouldn't want to touch with a ten foot pole unless they had to. I found these commercials more interesting than the movie itself. I was analyzing the pitches and angles that they'd taken compared to today's market.

"But doesn't it... you know, well up the old wounds."

I looked at his face which was flickering with the light of the television.

"Not really." I shrugged it off. I jammed another popcorn bundle in my mouth. The squeaky crunch was somehow satisfying. I continued, "It's not very realistic. He was sweet in the first five minutes. The middle part was about the physical abuse she had. I'm pretty sure the third part will be about her trying to leave him. In marketing terms this is pretty smart for the general public."

I popped a smaller piece of popcorn into my mouth trying to dissolve it with my saliva, letting the hard hull crunch and stick in my teeth.

We sat and watched the rest of the movie together. I didn't know why he would want to see such an unrealistic, sappy movie. I saw a small crease line, while his eyebrows didn't draw together. I recognized this as his work face. I was familiar with this expression from the times he'd stop in front of a building and then trace the outline of the building and count on his fingers.

"I've noticed that you haven't been going out with your friends," he said.

I watched the credits roll. I shrugged. "I don't feel like it. I am going to a movie with Lu-yin on Saturday."

This time I tried to crunch into the remaining kernels. I saw him wince. I knew he didn't like it, but he knew that I thought that the burnt kernels were the best part of the popcorn. But then, he liked to soak up the butter and salt with popcorn in the bottom of the bowl, which was his chief complaint about the movie theater popcorn.

He left the room. I assumed to work. I continued to sink into the recliner as if I had become one with it. Acting like this around a man somehow felt good--even if he was a friend.