Toph's Empty Year - 2. Early September

My room.

Had it ever entered my consciousness before?

Over my head, on the ceiling, band posters laughed down, mocking me. They must have been carefully attached by me, but memory fails. My head rotated on the pillow. Now the walls of my room were in view, but shyly hiding behind arrogant jocks. Those posters must have been attached by me too. Was I thirteen? Fourteen? At what age did I vandalize my room?

Such a long time ago. Another life. Another me.

Today begins Toph.2, the newest version.

One o’clock, Labor Day. I triple checked to make certain everything important was taken care of. There could be no do-overs. Two suitcases and two liquor boxes of my stuff were all that remained. I surreptitiously slipped those items into my car while everyone was at the pool, except for Clarence. I knew where he was though. The pool area would be altogether too noisy. He was in his room with a pillow over his head, nursing the consequences of last night. I heard him stumble in at four which, of course, was during my awake period.

The only clothes left unpacked were an old bathing suit on my body, which I’ll leave behind, and the formal clothing I’ll wear at dinner. The same tuxedo will deliver me to New Glory. I trotted out to the pool, spending the afternoon in the sun watching the Chesterboys frolic. The rest of my family sat around in stilted patience. They did not appreciate they would help me celebrate today. Had they, their spirits would have been brighter--certainly. My family was here for the annual Labor Day dinner, of course. The ceremony of Erasing Christopher would merely be an unexpected bonus.

I chose tonight’s dinner to be the closing performance of my show in Euphoria. It was a nineteen year run. Pretty impressive! I used the built-in app to zap my old phone, destroying my history and contacts with the past. The last of my stuff, those suitcases and boxes, were now safely in the car.

No one knew.

The meal was unremarkable in itself. The family was surprisingly convivial. I, of course, was invisible, except for the customary barbs I received from my scholarly youngest older brother. These were followed by the inevitable augmentation from father, his partner in crime. As usual, I said nothing. I could never responded to their little dog and pony show. It would only encourage them. I had my own ways of getting back at Clarence.

The other siblings merely insulted me with their looks and glances. I wasn’t worth words to them. Clarence always held the honor of designated hitter. Even the Chesterboys stared strangely at me, and they are only 8, 9 and 10.

Finally, the meal wound down. It was time for Toph to respond for the first time ever. I cleared my throat. Everyone stopped talking. The table went silent. They knew something unique was about to happen. All nine yards were unfurled and their entertainment was sailing into uncharted waters.

“I want to thank you all for making my past life enormously pleasant.” I raised my glass of water. “To Christopher’s new life.”

Clarissa, my 25 year old sister, threw me a questioning look.

Charles, my 29 year old brother’s furtive smile told me he knew exactly what I was about to do. Even though ten years older, he wa the only sibling who understood me, at least to some extent.

Chester, my 35 year old brother, was here also with wife and the aforementioned Chesterboys. He ignored me, as usual. I did not exist in Chesterworld. I’d been invisible to Chester since my birth. He actually trained me in the acceptance of invisibility, my Chesterfield.

Yes, it was quite a fascinating spread of ages, from Chester’s 35 through my 19. Sixteen years of begetting. It demonstrated two things about my parents. First, they didn’t realize a child could have a name not beginning with the letter C. Second, they clearly did not understand what caused babies.

I waited a beat, knowing my youngest older brother would not miss his opportunity for a final swipe. However, not even he realized how final his swipe would be.

Clarence: “Don’t tell me you got a normal job. Maybe you enrolled in community college? What could you possibly do to make your worthless life new, Christopher?”

“Again, I want to thank you all for your contributions to my happy life. You will be delighted to learn as of--I glanced at my watch--five minutes from now, you may proceed to live out the remainder of your years as though I had never existed.”

I stood, went to Mother and kissed her cheek. I then shook hands with Father saying, “It’s been a pleasure.” I was raised with perfect etiquette. After all, I was Euphoric.

Toph’s car was in reverse down the driveway, beginning the 21.4 miles from the Euphoria of his youth to the New Glory of his future. I left my old phone on the dresser. Maybe our maid Elizabeth could sell it. After considerable deliberation, I had decided to take along my three Head Graphene racquets. I’d probably never use them again, but they represented some of the only good memories I had. Silly, I know.

Forty-five minutes later, I greeted Anders. We had met two previous times. Originally, when I brought non-essential belongings. The second when, after visiting the market, I had purchased my initial foodstuffs and linens. With a carton of tomato soup, some pretzels and a box of tea bags, my nutrition was secure for a while. Now, with the addition of my two suitcases and two liquor boxes of stuff, Toph was fully moved in.

While I was appointing my room, the other apartment mate introduced himself. Gary Blake was a very handsome man of 28. At least I think it was the age Anders told me. Anders also had entered with Gary. I could immediately tell we all were comfortable with each other. I was particularly happy Gary was living here. My apartment came with built-in eye candy! He was cute.

I introduced myself to him. “Hey, Gary. Christopher Denny, but call me Toph, it’s what my friends call me.” He didn’t need to know I don’t have them anymore.

“Why dressed so formal? Did you arrive from a wedding?”

“No, from a divorce.”

It’s when I took the opportunity to change into something more comfortable.

We had a few hours before it was my time to leave for work. The three of us sat in the living room and talked about not much, really. It made me enormously happy they didn’t give a shit about my life. I was going to enjoy not suffering through a third degree every day. Toph actually smiled.

Anders, Gary and I hit it off pretty well. Considering our age difference, there was zero feeling they were treating me as anything but an equal. Gary, in particular, interested me. It almost seemed he was flirting with me a few times, but I’m sure it was simply me projecting. I received no gay vibes from Gary. But he certainly was pretty.

They were preparing for bed as I was preparing to leave for work. They each said goodbye and see you in the morning. How pleasant.

Toph smiled on his drive to work, then wooosh: I became invisible!

. . . . . . . . . .

New Glory.

An older suburb than Euphoria. In fact, I’m sure it was a small town which only became a suburb because the city expanded into it. A small downtown all of its own. Little book stores, diners and shops. Places I can spend some time, instead of my bed. And here, of course, I stood the chance of meeting some boys. I didn’t have to worry about my old hometown. It felt liberating.

I began a sort of routine. Most days about one o'clock I took lunch at Happy’s, a small train-car diner. It didn’t even take too long before I was recognized as a regular.

“Afternoon Toph! Your usual?”

That was Betty, my regular waitress. The only waitress. Even her name had an old and familiar ring. And it didn’t begin with a fucking C.

“Yep! How’s it going Betty? Busy breakfast?” She had returned with my iced tea.

“Just the usual mob. One new guy I never saw before. Probably passing through.”

“Hey, Toph! Hi Betty, coffee -- and how about a piece of your apple pie today.”

Big Joe slid onto the seat next to mine at the counter. One nice facet of the people in New Glory is they all had old fashioned names. The other appealing thing was they were all pretty friendly. I’m sure their families have lived here for generations. It was very unlike preppy Euphoria, where I had to put up with the names Nico, Tyler, Vivvy, Taylor, Kayla and Austin. And they were only my friends. There were too many Brads, Digbys, Connors, Vances, Blaines and the ever present Niles to make me anywhere near comfortable there.

Back to Big Joe. Joe was not really big. Well, I’d never checked that part out, but you know what I mean. He explained when he was growing up his family always called him Little Joe. Joe is his father’s name. I guess he had some kind of meltdown at age 8, screaming he wasn’t a ‘little’ anything. His dad picked right up on it and began calling him Big Joe, to the kid’s delight. And so his name was born. Now that’s a loving father! I’d guess him to be about two-or-so years older than me. Don’t worry, no gay vibes. But I didn’t think he had too many friends. I haven’t figured out why. He seems like a nice guy.

Naturally, after explaining the origin of his name, he asked about mine. So I told him half the truth. It was a small rebellion against the fact all my siblings names started with a C. What I did not tell him was that it was strange enough to be acceptable as on par with the preppy names of my preppy friends. In fact, Nico Christened me because he said it represented the heart of my name, so it must also represent the heart of my being. Nico had always been a sort of poet.

We sat there eating, talking about usual stuff. Our conversations were always easy going--never anything controversial. Big Joe knew my work schedule. He shrugged the day I told him. Like, that’s interesting, and moved on to something else. No expectation I needed to be in college or anything negative about the Vampire Shift. Folks in New Glory are simply just folks. Nothing presumptuous about them. My kind of people.

Which brings me to my apartment mate Gary. I still got no gay vibe from him, but it sure felt like he continued to flirt. Maybe it was only his personality. But damn, between flirting and his good looks, it was everything I could do to not make a move. I’m not dumb, don’t worry. I’ve got to live with this guy and the place is too sweet to jeopardize living here.

Gary was not a local. I gather he moved to town for a new job and was friends with the former third guy, whom I replaced. I didn’t know what occupation he had, but the dude left each morning in a pretty expensive suit, of which he had a bazillion. I knew all about expensive clothes. After all, I was an escapee from Euphoria. The Brads and Vances and Nileses gave me a thorough sartorial education. Somehow I must learn to not keep drooling over Gary.

. . . . . . .

Last night I was on the prowl and actually visited a bar, but only had one beer. I didn’t even get carded, although I have a perfect fake ID, complements of Nico. I left right away though, finding only old drunks in there. I probably should try other places over the next few nights, there are enough in this town. Lots of taverns and no Wild Wings. My new home got more attractive every day.

Finally, I asked Anders. He was a local.

“Is there something I should see here in New Glory? Some places to visit to get a feel for the town?”

“We do have an art gallery. It’s about a hundred years old. You’ll find some interesting works there. More than you’d expect in a small town. Of course, there’s the New Glory Historical Society. They have some exhibits that’ll give you a feel about the town’s founding and it’s past. Try to avoid Abigail Martin though. She’ll trap you and talk your ears off.” He chuckled.

“Abigail Martin? Is she some kind of relative?”

“You could say that, I guess.”

“As in ...?” Jesus, It was like pulling teeth.

“As in my mother.” Anders blushed a little and smiled. I had to laugh at that. He gave me the locations and I decided to do some exploring. I’d start with the gallery tomorrow afternoon.

“Your cuisine is certainly interesting, if not limited.” I was stirring tomato soup. Gary had slipped into the kitchen behind me.

“I’ll be finished with the burner in a minute, if you need to use the stove.”

“No no, Toph! Take your time. I’m ordering some Chinese for delivery tonight. Do you always eat Tomato soup for dinner?”

“Of course not. When this carton is finished, I’ll have twelve nights of Chicken Noodle.” I smiled and glanced at him over my right shoulder. I noticed he had changed into more casual, but still expensive, clothes. He was really looking at me.

“It’s none of my business, but you have to admit your diet is a little odd.”

“You’re right.”

“You agree it’s unusual?”

“No. I agree it’s none of your business.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Oh-oh, lover’s squabble?” Anders entered the arena.

“No Gary, I apologize. I’m a little too thin skinned about certain things. I had to endure a nightly verbal beating for nineteen years. In fact, right up through the night I left to move in here. I let my feelings against them slop over into my life here, which has been anything but like my former existence. You guys are both great. Try to understand if I snap a bit. Pretty soon all those memories will fade and I’ll become a normal person--I promise.”

Gary came up behind me and put a hand on each shoulder. I had to turn off the burner or I’d have burned down the building or something. He didn’t realize what he does to me.

“I’d normally say to let it all out, get it out of your system. But I don’t think you’re ready yet. Anders and I both like you a lot, Toph. When you’re ready, we’re ready. I’m sorry I was insensitive. To think, I’ve been trained to be just the opposite in my position.”

I didn’t ask what his ‘position’ was or even where he was employed. I think the less personal stuff Gary and I shared, the better. But at least we three were all back to normal. Whew.

Woosh! Back to being invisible.

. . . . . . . . . .

Art.

It really is my thing. Maybe my only thing. A Euphoric High, our name for the alma mater, actually had a few decent art appreciation courses. You need those for your Snooty Credentials. I also took art classes as my elective all four years. I used to draw and paint a lot. After high school I limited doing that, of course. To my family, the only thing worse than working all night and not being in college would be wasting all day drawing.

Now, however, I needed to pick up some sketch pads and decent drawing pencils. I was determined to work my way back into the thing I loved. It had been so many months, I’d probably need to start with stick figures. A few doors down from the gallery was a little art supply store.

It was nothing like those big box stores in Euphoria which sold plastic flowers, frames, cheap pottery and kittens as well as art supplies. This little store had a unique smell as you entered. An odor of old turpentine and even older canvass. It had a certain flavor in the air I never encountered before, but somehow knew. I knew this is what an artist’s supply store was supposed to smell like.

I was the only customer and there was only one clerk, who I soon discovered was also the owner. The owner was also an artist. Upon my inquiry, she admitted several of the works hanging on the back wall were indeed her own. Her name was Naomi. Naomi was probably in her fifties, had grey hair which must have been blond at one time, unsuccessfully pulled back into a pony tail. It seemed she didn’t attempt it very carefully, probably absentmindedly.

Naomi was very helpful and interested in me. When I explained what I needed, she nodded and I could tell she understood. I left the little shop, carrying my package to place in the trunk of my car, realizing I would be back--repeatedly. Naomi was simply too interesting to not experience at least weekly.

Anders was correct. It was a lovely old gallery. I spent the entire afternoon in only a few of the several rooms, each devoted to one period. There was no sense in rushing, possibly missing something significant. I had lots of days ahead of me anyway. Admission was by voluntary contribution into a metal container, tastefully decorative. I’ll be back, old girl. Often.

Next door was the library. I am now a card carrying member of the New Glory Library and, for two weeks, in possession of The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana.

This time, Gary waited until I was eating my dinner of tomato soup and pretzels before he entered the kitchen. Sitting across from me, he placed a pizza box on the table. I could tell we were going to have a conversation, so I replaced the bookmark and softly closed the large book.

“Pizza?” Gary pointed at the now open box, offering me a piece, I supposed.

“Thanks, but I’m okay.”

“Umberto Eco?” He had successfully read the cover of my book upside down. An interesting talent.

“Yes, I hate him. Too many words.”

He smiled and offered a cute chuckle. “May I ask why you’re reading it then?”

“It’s awfully good.”

“Toph, would you be insulted if I mentioned you were a very interesting guy?”

I looked at him. Gazed deeply into his eyes. Yep, without a doubt, he was flirting with me.

“No Gary, I wouldn’t be insulted. Concerned, yes. Concerned about your judgment.” I returned his smile.

Enter Anders. Thank God!

Gary offered him pizza. “There’s a ton. Toph doesn’t want any.”

Anders looked between Gary and me, like there was something going on I wasn’t privy to. I needed to break this up.

“Anders, you were right. It is a charming gallery. I’ll spend quite a few afternoons there, I can tell already.”

He smiled back at me. I had finished my dinner. After washing my bowl and pan, I grabbed Umberto and headed into the living room for some uninterrupted reading. It lasted about an hour. Anders and Gary returned to the living room. Their pizza time must have been finished. Anders asked if the TV would bother me. I thought it was pretty considerate of him.

“Not at all, Anders. As I told you, I’m invisible.”

Gary was about to speak to me. I bookmarked Umberto. I had done enough reading for tonight anyway.

“Toph, is there something about me you don’t like?”

I thought it was an unusual thing to ask. “Not that I can think of Gary. When I get to know you a little better, I’ll probably even like you. Why? Am I being rude of something? I don’t mean to be. You’re both pretty neat guys.”

“Well, you seem a little stand-offish is all”

Anders interrupted. “Toph, you’ve bruised Mr. Sociable’s ego. You’re not fawning all over him.”

I detected Gary shooting a look at Anders. Anyway, the look together with Anders comment made me laugh. It felt good. I hadn’t laughed in a few years.

“Sorry Gary, it’s nothing personal. When you get to know me a little better, you’ll learn I’m a pretty basic kinda guy. Nothing fancy. Nothing fake. No airs. It caused problems in my former life. So now you and Anders have to put up with me.”

“Mmmm. Something in your story probably explains the fancy racquets in your bedroom. Do you belong to a tennis club?”

“Definitely not! Nor would I ever.” Did I just snap at Gary? I didn’t think so, but it probably sounded that way.

Anders decided to mediate. “Why don’t you give Toph a break, Gary. He doesn’t need the third degree. Can’t you tell he only just escaped from all that?”

Gary apologized and we three watched TV until I left to get ready for work.

Later, as I was about to leave, Gary met me at the door and put an arm over my shoulders.

“Toph, I’m sorry. I know I come across to you as some kind of crass meddler, but I really do like you. I think I’m trying to get to know you better, but doing a terrible job of it. Take care. See you in the morning.”

Woosh. I became invisible.