Dan's Conundrum - 5. Chapter 5

Imagine that nobody ever calls or texts you because you don’t give out your number and you don’t understand why people would want your number anyway. That it costs to use the phone and you remember being told not to use up the credit in case of emergencies. That you have enjoyed a few years of calm and peace in your own room.

On Saturday morning my phone began to vibrate, and make strange noises as though about to explode into a thousand pieces. I almost had a heart attack, right there and then. Then it quietened down. When I felt brave enough I approached the technology with care and glimpsed at the unfamiliar number on the screen. Strange. Curiosity got the better of me. I navigated through the menus clumsily to check the text.

Hey Dan, wanna come out to town with us? We can meet at 12. David.

How did he even get my num–?

Oh.

Oh!

Last week, he practically robbed my number at gunpoint. I didn’t think he would actually… he actually used my number? This guy is crazy. For a second I was too happy to think straight. No one ever invited me out on a Saturday – then again I never saw the purposes of such things. Until today. Going out with David? Sounds good. Giving him my number turned out to be a great move. It was just obvious that he wanted me around. That he liked to have me around. No other reason seemed probable. At least, not yet.

How could I say no to him? I was overwhelmed. Maybe I could even summon the courage to call him a friend. And maybe - just maybe - he thought I was a friend too. His text was the indisputable evidence. That we even got this far amazed me. Few weeks ago he was still this guy (albeit a hot guy) walking casually into class, late, and sitting next to me for no reason. Now he was a friend.

Now how did he do that…

When I told my parents they didn’t seem to mind at all about me going out. They were probably secretly pleased. With their consent, I bounced my way to the bus stop and head out to town. I didn’t even take it to heart when the driver (in his forties, already bald with black growths sprouting disproportionately from his ears) glared at me with hostile eyes before throwing the change for me to pick up on the deck.

I took a window seat like other passengers and the pattern was complete. It was like a hidden rule of social behaviours – if there were an empty roll, sit there. If you don’t do that, you’re a nuisance. No one ever taught me that rule exactly, or told me why it was there, but I could imagine plenty of reasons.

Lingering in the air was the smell of perspiration or some other form of odour I could not identify – I was certain the driver was responsible. In the front roll a Spanish-looking guy was listening to music, his head swinging to the beat. The music sounded suspiciously like Coldplay. A grandmother with grey hair and big spectacles searched for an invisible object in her handbag. On my left by the window on the other side, a young woman applied her lipstick fiercely. An empty bottle of Dr Pepper rolled to and fro down the aisle. I spent a minute looking at the Spanish guy, the prettiest thing around. Though if he caught me staring I could say my seat was facing him and therefore it was completely natural for me to look this way.

It would have been uneventful, were it not for the two blond men in black suits and trousers boarding the bus. They reminded me a little of the film Men In Black and I wouldn’t be surprised if their giant office bags concealed heavy weapons of some sort. One of them approached and sat next to me, despite the number of window seats still available, violating our pattern. The other sat in the empty roll in front of me. Why weren’t they sitting together? It took me a moment to figure that out. Of course. The whole purpose was to corner me, trapping me against the window.

‘Hello there,’ the younger man – in his twenties perhaps – spoke to me. His accent was distinctly American. Californian, perhaps? I didn’t much care. It wasn’t the kind of information I wanted to know.

‘Hi?’

‘What’s your name?’ he asked. Weird that a stranger should ask and some of my classmates never did.

‘Dan.’ Well, it wasn’t my real name anyway. They could have that.

‘My name is James. Nice to meet you. I’d like to ask, Dan, have you ever thought about having God in your life?’

The man before me was turning around now, sensing his partner had struck. He wore glasses and seemed a little older. And less good-looking. Much less good-looking. Maybe it had to do with his moustache. I didn’t like moustaches. Anyway…

‘I, er…’ Couldn’t finish.

‘Hey man, I’m Rick,’ the older man said. ‘Have you ever been to a church before, Dan?’

Thinking the other question was forfeit, I replied, ‘I used to go to a church some years ago.’

‘That’s great.’ He grinned. Then I let it hang. It took them a while to realise my implication. ‘What stopped you from going?’

Am I really telling a stranger this? ‘Oh, you know. Many reasons.’

They nodded. The younger man turned to me. ‘Do you think there is a God?’

‘Maybe. God ultimately is not a disprovable hypothesis. The thing is, God generally doesn’t get caught doing things.’

The younger man attempted a genial laughter. ‘What if I tell you, one day, Jesus revealed himself to Joseph Smith and told him that no church in the world is correct about the teachings of Christ?’

‘Unlikely, but possible.’

‘Would you like to find out more?’ He passed a glance with the older man. ‘You could join us tomorrow on our Sunday service.’

‘It’s in the morning, is it? How unfortunate,’ I told them. ‘We’re seeing our uncle this Sunday.’

Lie, Dan. Absolute lie. Your uncle is in Hong Kong. But you’re doing a great job smiling.

‘Maybe you can join us next Sunday,’ the older man suggested. I was finding their gazes on me increasingly uncomfortable. Their eyes were burning me, slowly and from the inside.

‘Ah, that’s quite bad. We see our uncle every Sunday.’

The two of them passed a look.

‘We could come round to your house if you like, on weekdays, to talk to you,’ the younger man offered. ‘Just give us your address. You don’t need to go anywhere.’

‘I usually am quite busy on weekdays. School and all.’

That had them convinced. But still he continued, ‘Or we can have your number. Yes…and then we can text you some information.’

Think. If I didn’t give it to them they’d never leave me alone. But what else could I have done?

I could give them the wrong number…

‘Alright,’ I said. The older man was taking out a pad. On there, several contacts had already been written down. Obviously I wasn’t their first victim. I recited to them my dad’s old number which I was sure nobody was using at the moment. I could have made one up, but I didn’t want them screaming down the phone to some stranger asking for Dan’s whereabouts.

He had finished writing on his pad and that should be the end of it, I thought. To my horror, he instantly tried to ring me on his phone.

‘It’s not working,’ he told me. His voice flat and dangerous.

‘Er…’ I took out my phone and pretended to examine it. ‘Sorry, battery’s dead. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me, I’m getting off at the next stop…’

‘Before you go,’ the young man said, not letting me pass, ‘take this and have a read.’

From his giant leather bag, he produced a handbook and pressed it into my unresisting hand. I accepted it without thinking. The book of Mormon.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll give this a good read. If I find something, I’ll get back to you.’

They seemed pleased and let me go. They were certain I would make a discovery. To them, I was a soul who had just been saved. They were just doing their job really, driven to this miserable place by their religion. Had I rejected them their faith would be strengthened by it. They would be convinced there was more to be done in this wretched world. I didn’t know which was worse, that, or letting them believe they had fulfilled the mission of their lives. What I did know was that I’d be waiting ten more minutes for the next bus. Hopefully there wouldn’t be somebody else preaching on there too.

* * * * *

Perhaps because David was an English guy and I was inclined to my own prejudices, but when I read his message I rather hoped he made a grammatical error. He said ‘us’, when what he really meant was ‘me’, the singular form. It was a common mistake amongst English guys. But who was I kidding? Just like himself, his grammar too was perfect. When I saw him after I had gotten off bus there was a sight I should have expected all along. David and Jenna, hand in hand. What was she even doing here? I charged down the distance as though on a war path. But when I zoomed out I saw Chris too. I was so relieved that I wasn’t the third guy on a date – the fourth perhaps – or I might as well have not come.

‘Hey everyone,’ I called out to them.

‘Hey, Dan.’ David smiled. ‘Glad you made it.’

I imagined myself shaking my head and muttering sotto voce, ‘traitor.’

‘I didn’t think you’d come,’ David said thoughtfully. ‘But it’s nice to see you.’

‘Thanks, yeah. I thought I’d come out for a change.’

‘Nice shoes!’ Chris interrupted. I looked at my shoes and stared straight back at him.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘A compliment.’

More like sarcasm, I thought. I was wearing my two-year-old trainers – old, worn and blackened with use but they were comfortable enough. Never thought much about it. Maybe he was persuading me to buy a new pair, not that I was going to because I wasn’t interested in shoes anyway. Nobody else seemed to care. David didn’t seem to care, so why so fussy about shoes?

‘Hey, what’s that?’ David asked, taking an interest in the book in my hand.

‘Missionaries attacked me on the bus. I couldn’t possibly leave without taking it.’

For a moment or two I described what those men did to me, how I couldn’t resist them and how they couldn’t be resisted.

‘Oh, okay.’ He paused. Then he suggested, grinning, ‘Next time, just pretend you don’t speak any English and walk away.’

What a great idea! I grinned. ‘I’ll do that next time. Where are we going now?’

‘Jenna wanted to see a film…’ he began. Wait – what she wanted to do? What about what I wanted to do?

‘Then we go shopping!’ she suggested. Chris was ecstatic about the idea, I very much less so. Then she turned to David, nudging him, ‘You have to come.’

He pushed her lightly on the shoulder. ‘Hey, watch where your hands are going, woman.’

She smiled with malice, licking her lips. She pushed him squarely on the chest, knocking him back a feet. ‘What are you looking at, you pervert?’

I chuckled. They were amusing to watch – until David pushed her again and she staggered backwards towards me, standing on my foot in the process. I barely had time to gasp. A second later I felt the book knocked out of my hand. I watched as it somersaulted in mid-air, falling in slow motion before finally landing flat into the bottom of a bin nearby.

A sickening crash ensued. God did not intervene.

‘I - I’m so sorry, Dan,’ she said, looking into the bin. ‘You want me to get it back for you?’

‘I, erm…’

David came over. ‘Nah, Jen. I’ll get it.’

I peered into the bin. ‘I don’t want it. Besides, it’s all wet now.’

Well, one less item to carry I suppose. We headed to a cinema nearby and watched Toy Story 3, which if we had any idea what we were in for we might have chosen differently. By the end we were reduced to nothing but tears. What a perfect start to our day – crying, I mean.

‘I’m starving,’ Jenna told us afterwards. It was past three in the afternoon.

‘Let’s go and find some food then?’ David looked around for approval. Everybody was starving. We went to the Food Court where everyone’s tastes could be catered.

‘What are you having?’ David asked me.

‘McDonald’s,’ I replied without a doubt.

He gave me an odd look. ‘Why?’

‘It tastes good.’ I immediately regretted the comment, because everyone frowned at me like I had betrayed them all.

‘Seriously?’ David looked at me in disbelief. ‘That stuff tastes good?’

‘And it’s cheap,’ I added helpfully.

‘Yeah, but why is it so cheap?’ Chris wriggled his eyebrows. Nope, not going to change my mind at all. Big Mac forever.

‘Who’s up for some Chinese?’ Jenna suggested, smiling.

‘Chicken Chow Mein for me,’ David said.

‘Same for me. I think they serve really good Chinese up here,’ Chris told us.

I rolled my eyes. ‘You don’t know what real Chinese food is.’

‘I do!’ Chris insisted. ‘Chicken chow mein, egg fried rice…’

‘I’ve never had Chicken chow mein in my entire life. And I’m Chinese.’

‘Man, you’re missing out,’ David claimed.

Disagreed. So much Chinese food here tasted distinctly British. They couldn’t be convinced of it though.

We found a table that looked civil enough, sat down and began to eat. I took note that none them could hold chopsticks properly and David was the only one who gave it a serious attempt before they all resorted back to forks. A particular eye sore was that David and Jenna shared a strawberry milkshake and they slurped happily together. It was intolerable how beautiful people always got together. There was a moment, just a second when a thought crossed my mind that I could split them up and cause some trouble, but I pushed that thought away. They hadn’t done anything wrong. Not exactly. I just found them difficult for my eyes to accept which might I add, was my own problem, not theirs. It would be unfair to make them pay for the imperfections that were mine.

When we’d finished we sat for a while gazing at the rubbish on our table – this was the mess we made. We waited painfully for suggestions.

‘I saw a dress the other day that looked so awesome,’ Chris said to Jenna.

She was immediately interested. Her eyes gleamed as she turned to David like a child for approval. David shrugged at her.

‘You can go if you want,’ he said.

‘Wanna come?’ she asked. ‘I could do with an extra pair of eyes.’

‘Umm…’ David looked at me. ‘Actually, I was going to show Dan something.’

Really? That wasn’t part of the plan.

‘Oh, okay.’ She nodded. She didn’t seem at all disappointed – strange.

We stood up then. Confused as I was, I remained silent. Nobody seemed to know what David was going to show me apart from himself. As we got up I wondered if we should clean up the table – you know, take those rubbish away with us? But since no one else seemed interested, I left reluctantly because I didn’t want to be the odd one out, particularly when I was invited for the first time. Jenna gave David a quick kiss on the lips before bouncing off with Chris. What a weird girl. I looked at David who seemed almost as amused as I was.

‘So, what are you going to show me exactly?’ I inquired when they were out of earshot.

‘Don’t be silly. I haven’t got anything to show you.’

Oh! I bet you have, you can take off that shirt, I thought to myself. ‘Really?’

‘Sorry, but, I’m not up for it today.’ He sighed. ‘You know what I mean?’

‘Um…okay,’ I said. ‘So what do we do now?’

‘Let’s do some guy’s things.’ David grinned. I faced him blankly. I had no idea what he implied there. Did he just say that Chris wasn’t a guy? Or that I wasn’t? He didn’t know about me, but I shuddered at the thought.

We went around a couple of game shops but nothing grabbed my interest since I had no console. We wandered aimlessly for half an hour or so in the street. I started daydreaming. A while later I’d lost David in the crowd. I knew from experience that whenever I was lost, bad things happen.

A salesman in blue jacket, perhaps Indian, handed me a leaflet. I did not take it. Not this time.

‘Long distance phone calls, 2p a minute.’ His voice squeaked like a hamster in the street.

I shook my head. I told him, feigning a terrible Chinese accent, ‘Sowwie. Me no English.’

‘Phone calls?’ He gesticulated, making a decent attempt trying to communicate with me. Too bad I wasn’t interested. I waved my hands.

‘Me no English!’

‘Hey, Dan!’ David called as he rushed over. His eyes ran between the salesman and me.

I started talking to David in Chinese. He frowned, but as soon as I winked at him something seemed to click and he turned back to the salesman.

‘Sorry, my friend here doesn’t understand a word of English,’ David told him, shielding me away from the salesman slightly. Not the most convincing argument, I thought. How could we communicate then? But then I had put him on the spot.

‘Just take a leaflet for your friend,’ said the man in the blue jacket, impatient to move on to his next target. David took it.

‘Thanks,’ David said, turning away. I happily followed him.

Once we were away he asked me, ‘What happened?’

‘He forced himself on me.’

He frowned. ‘You could have just walked away.’

Certainly a viable option. ‘But that would be rude,’ I said.

‘And saying rude things in Chinese isn’t?’

‘I wasn’t saying rude things!’ I insisted. ‘I was taking your advice!’

‘I was kidding.’ He smiled incredulously, shaking his head. When he saw a bin, he shoved the leaflet inside.

We walked for another minute until we found somewhere to sit. There were water fountains and a small field just up ahead. On the side I noticed several fat pigeons pecking at chips left on the ground and on top of that, they were badly in need of exercise. I walked over and targeted a random pigeon to follow. Still it would not flap its wings and burn off those calories, which was the whole point. From its dumb expressions it seemed to wonder why it was being stalked by a man.

‘Dan, stop bullying the poor thing,’ David said. I returned to him, shaking my head.

‘You know…pigeons can’t walk so freely in China,’ I told him, sitting down. I let that hang. A deep, reflective, almost philosophical look crossed his face.

‘Why?’ David turned to me. His eyes frowned with concern and care.

I grinned. ‘They’d get eaten, of course! Or made into soup.’

He laughed and punched me lightly on the arm. ‘You eat pigeons?’

‘Yeah. Roast pigeon. That’s real Chinese food for you.’

‘How does that taste?’ David asked.

‘Lovely,’ I remarked.

We stared out for a little while. A child was throwing tantrums near Burger King and in response his mother gave him the silent treatment. A young couple walked past, and he was kissing the back of her hand. They couldn’t be more than 15 – younger than me at any rate. Now I was jealous of them too.

There was something I need to tell David. It had been gnawing at my heart and I had been itching to tell him. It just occurred to me that I should tell him now, for we might never have another opportunity. I must tell him and I must do it now.

‘Thanks for inviting me today,’ I said to him.

‘No problem, man.’

I looked at him thoughtfully, wondering what to say.

‘Sometimes, I find it’s these little things that really mattered to me, these dialogues between friends. The way they express fondness for each other. The jokes, laughter, the tiny acts of kindness that some people take for granted. Sometimes I try so hard so no one looks down on me but…life is so much more than that.’

‘Dan, no one’s looking down on you.’

‘You don’t understand, it’s…’ I looked away.

‘What?’

I paused. I had said more than I should, revealed more than I should. I had wanted to express my gratitude, not perverting it with stories of the past. That moment should have been about him and what he was doing for me. But then he looked as though he wanted to know and I was so close to tell him everything. Why was I telling him this? I didn’t have to tell him. I’d forgotten the reason. Did he really want to know?

But it was all coming back to me now, the memories that ought to be banished and play no further part in my life. They came flooding back as vivid as here and now. I was scared. I was scared not because I didn’t know what was coming, but because I knew if I looked at them too closely, I would find myself living in that world again.