The Imaginary

Chapter 5: Being a Rockstar Has Its Perks Part 2

THE IMAGINARY

CHAPTER FIVE: BEING A ROCKSTAR HAS ITS PERKS

PART 2

"I call that method the crawl, Jake." My hand took its stop. "I would not advise for you to do that. The female species are, I must say, awkward. They are complex. Female Images scare me. It must be the same with the human race, I observe."

"Stop it. Not now."

"We should keep our attention constant." I was keeping it constant, before you intervened. "The show has hit its climax."

But I kept on with the crawl. In this second time, when I’d reached the halfway point, Tom startled me with his whispers.

"Hey, Jake."

The coward’s eyes were glowing, but it showed signs of suspicion, very Mr. Clark-like.

"I said, not now!" It had real anger to it, but I maintained it to be a forced hush. "What?!"

Mr. Ghost here just blew up my chance. Laura and Lucas turned to us for a while.

"Man, I’m serious about this, about her. I know I’ve been a goof all my life." So, you knew. Good for you, Tom. "I’ve probably earned enough credits to be your potential sidekick had you been the main protagonist of some story. But I’m serious now. She’s just elegant, isn’t she?"

"Yeah, I know. Talk to me later. I’m busy thinking."

I had to do it a third round. This time, eyes were monitoring me. They were taking instant photos of my actions. When there were a few more inches left to travel, yet another villain talked. I accepted, then, that we were star-crossed lovers. There were just too many obstructions.

"Ah, such deepness, lad." Mr. Beak was my new nemesis. He chomped on the popcorn bucket messily, his mouth now bubbled. "This is good stuff. Truly good! Look, that egg man’s the best whack!"

"Ah, ah! Sorry!" I was alarmed. It might have been a subconscious act, but likewise, I raised my hands in the gesture of surrender.

"Lad? All is well?" I sure hoped so, Mr. Beak. This guy was mildly confused.

"What’s wrong, Jake?" said Sarah. She had real worry. "Is something bothering you? Do you want to go? I-I’ll come with you."

"He’d be too lucky, Sarah," said Laura. This girl was always like this. Always the enemy. "Don’t. Don’t give him everything."

"Yes, right. But--"

"N-No, nothing. Nothing’s wrong."

"You sure?"

"Indeed." For a second there, I thought Laura was Madame Graham.

She leaned closer to Sarah’s area, almost in whisper position. Tom and Lucas, whose respective arms were crossed, nodded. They mimicked her words.

"Sarah, ya’ see, Jake’s only trying to grab some pillows on the bed. They’re as soft as marshmallows, and the mere feel gives overflowing joy." She did the snicker face, then prolonged her words: "Right, Jake?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, God! It’s obvious, Jake! Your little wimblewees want to flockwhip hers, you rascal!"

There she did it. Oh, the tragedies of the blushing thought. Once the villain was done, Sarah looked down on the floor, embarrassed. She fixed her eyeglasses in place, perhaps as an excuse, and then went back to see the play.

But if my mind’s eye hadn’t interfered with my actual eyes--if this were true--I saw flashes of her scarlet face, right before Laura had finished her speech bubble, and now as the menace blew murmurs to her ear.