Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Paradigm Shift - 2. Chapter 2
Chapter 2
The last two years had been a blessing, a pungent aroma, a delicious meal. My stomach snarled . I yearned for coke in a glass filled with ice and to sip it without being watched and to admire the color in a garden instead of cruising Bear bars. Breakfast in bed? A shower? A gentle man to cuddle? I wanted to wake up in the morning and feel skin beside me. No sex.
I knew that wouldn’t happen.
I don’t know how long I drove. Maybe an hour or two. When I stopped there were cars parked around me and a sign that read; ECO Hotel. I knew I was eastbound, and close to the highway to Mpumalanga. I turned my cell phone on and twenty five missed calls waited for a reply; all from Roland. I turned it off and grabbed my briefcase and laptop, and the half bottle of tequila lying on the back seat. I slammed the car door shut and entered the front office of the hotel.
Camera’s watched every move I made. The door opened into a narrow reception room. It resembled a security prison with steel gates and bars covering the windows and doors. No one was at the desk and I stepped forward to hit the bell.
‘Everyone does that.’ A voice came from behind me.
I spun around without hitting the bell.
‘Everyone wants to hit the bell.’ He said, pointing at the silver instrument on the corner of the desk.
The skin on his biceps was taut and round and his triceps were deep hollows in hard skin. Dented to perfection. I could place two hands around his neck. Why, I could fold my fingers through his black brush cut and watch his dimpled smile forever. His smile lit up a large face with a three day beard. It was a friendly face with dark brown eyes and a prominent philtrum above his lip. His hands were firm and clean, with shiny white fingernails as though he had recently had them manicured. A patch of dark hair stuck out of his white vest.
I couldn’t speak. I tried, but my tongue caught my teeth.
‘How many are you?’ He asked, opening a register.
‘Err…just me. One night.’
‘Where are you from?’ He asked, taking my Identity book from my fingers.
My brain worked overtime. ‘Somewhere.’
‘Well, Mister Brian Vogel from somewhere, Room 27, facing the highway. It has a balcony.’ He handed me the key and I paid him for the night.
I mumbled a nervous, ‘thank you,’ with a weak smile. ‘Do you have room service? I’m hungry.’
He pointed into the passage. ‘See that hatch? You place your order there, and I’ll have it brought up to your room.’
I asked a final question. ‘Is there a hotspot where the internet signal is strong?’
‘You’ll have no problems with the internet. We’re fully equipped to make your stay pleasant. Enjoy the evening.’
I headed for the kiosk and ordered a cheeseburger and chips, with ketchup; food full of the wrong oils and hardly nutritious. I usually enjoyed a salad, starch or protein. The guy at the reception desk said he’d bring the food to me, knowing I didn’t have to wait; I headed in the direction of my apartment and followed the room numbers until I came to number 27.
I expected a rat and cockroach infested room with soiled sheets on the bed. But the room smelled of fresh paint. There were two carpets, one in the passage and one in the bedroom. The balcony was open plan and spanned the course of two rooms. The bed was king sized and the linen was shiny white. Stiff. No pictures on the walls. There was a chair and a writing desk in one corner and a shoulder high cabinet. I drew the khaki colored curtains across the long window then removed my black jacket and shirt, and stood on the balcony staring at everything and nothing.
I was making love, to Roland. I wanted nothing more than to be with him. I needed his strong arms around me in the mornings. That kind smile every time he came near. But that was in the beginning. And what about home? I missed home. In retrospect, what on earth was I thinking by leaving him like that? I knew the first place he would look would be my house. I had no desire to confront him there, but now, the desire was far too great. I needed to get back to Roland. I put on a shirt quickly, collected my belongings, and headed for the door. As I opened it, there stood the guy from reception, his hand ready to knock.
This time a name tag was pinned to his shirt: Kevin.
‘Your cheeseburger.’
I took it from his hands, ‘Thank you, Kevin.’
His lips curved into a delicate smile. ‘By the way, your ponytail is really cool. Well, I’ll go back to my desk. See you in the morning.’
He waved and disappeared around the corner. It was only then that I realized I had been staring at the bulge in his jeans. The thick, tight butt and thighs as he turned to go. The swagger in his walk. I closed the door and ate the dry burger. Nothing worse than a dry burger. The buns were like toast and there was really no other option but to complain. That way I could see Kevin again. I buzzed the reception area and told him the food was gritty like sandpaper in my mouth.
Within a few minutes he knocked on the door. I opened and allowed him in. ‘Sorry to have bothered you about this but the burger is very hard and dry.’
‘Please, don’t apologize. I’ll have it taken care of in no time. You can have this meal on the house. It’s only twenty five bucks off my salary.’
‘What? You mean you have to pay for it? That’s unfair.’ I said, stepping back into the doorway.
‘Yup. The owner deducts all careless mistakes.’ He said, grinning.
'No way I will allow that. Tell you what, here's a round up tip for you. You've been great. Without you, this place would be a dump.'
'That's kind of you. Thank you.'
I fidgeted in my wallet and brought out a couple of bucks. Maybe thirty, forty rands. More than enough to cover the cost of a better burger and a tip. Maybe I conned myself.
'You want to join me? I’ve got a bottle of tequila here and I …’
He shrugged, ‘...Sorry, my shift ends at twelve.’
‘Maybe another time then.’ He must have heard the disappointment in my voice.
He nodded his head, and turned to leave with the food. ‘I’ll bring the food up for you in a few minutes. Don’t worry, this time it’s going to be cooked to perfection.’
I closed the door. Poured myself a tot of tequila and threw it burning down my throat. The stars became brighter and the moon larger for a few moments. And that’s when it came to me. The challenge will be the field without Roland in it. The only way to get closure was to return home and tell him to stay the hell out of my life.
I … I brought your food. I hope it tastes better this time. I made it.’
‘Hi. Thank you. Well?’
Kevin frowned, perplexed. ‘Well, what?’
‘Are you going to come inside or stand there until dawn?’
‘Maybe after my shift. If you’re awake. I took the liberty of mixing the ketchup with a mustard sauce.’
'That's no problem. I love mustard.' I smiled at him, and he smiled back. Just a touch of delicate sensuality curved his lips. I took the food and he went away for the second time.
The central courtyard was well lit and I strolled through the shrubbery and sat on a bench beside a waterfall. It had been a few hours since I had walked out on Roland. I had left him in a state of panic. Panicky people do weird things. He had not followed me. Maybe I wanted him to come back begging. Maybe I needed the punishment all over again. I almost left this place. Maybe I should just walk out now. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. They don’t work. I had to settle on a decision based on this question: Do I want to be with Roland?
I needed to move forward on my own, without ties.
The answer is no.
‘Hey! How was the burger?’
I knew that voice.
It wasn't Kevin.
It was Roland
strolling towards me with his hands in his pockets.
‘Delicious.’ I said, smacking my lips.
‘What you doing in the garden?’
I turned his way and smiled. ‘Thinking.’ I stared at the fountain, the glassy water falling over the edges into the pool below.
'You can't get rid of me so easily.I could never find the words to say everything is alright. I lost today.' He bowed his head as if in total humilation. 'Can we talk?'
He said in a low voice.
'How did you..?'
I gazed at him vacantly as he sat beside me on the bench.
'That's not important right now. I'm glad I found you.' He nodded and smiled.
‘Maybe I want to come back, but if that were to happen I would lose confidence in my decisions.’
‘Where’s back?’ he asked, honestly perplexed.
‘A place. A comfort zone. Warm and tranquil. But hey, I know that I must move on. You must move on, Row. No sense in drowning. ‘
‘It’s always safer above the water. You know that.’
‘I had enough of the humiliation. Being frowned upon. Always having to watch my mouth. Not knowing when your mood will change.’
‘I know what you mean. I'm prepared to get help, if you want me to.'
'So you know the feeling,’ I continued. ‘It’s like I’m empty inside. My whole body is numb. Today has been a turning point in my life. I realize now that it’s all about the choices I make in life. Two years ago I met you at a dinner party and we haven’t left each other’s side since. We’ve argued, and I’ve made compromises. You cannot compromise. It’s your way or no way. You threatened me worse than ever before today and I felt our security had been breached. I had been wrong about you. In my eyes, you have lost Ubuntu.’
We sat silently for a moment, listening to the song of the first summer thunder as it roared among the clouds .
‘It’s going to rain tonight.’ I could smell the rain coming in from afar. The wind had picked up.
He hesitated a few seconds before speaking. ‘Soon there’s going to be lightening and more thunder. I want to feel the drops on my skin.’ Roland sat on the bench, facing me.
‘Do you love me?’ '
'Not after what happened today. There's a song by Hurts that goes 'there's something in the water, I don't feel safe...stranded in midair...something below the surface.’
‘Forget about soppy songs. Do you want to be with me?’
‘Yes. No.’
His peach-blossom gaze held me for several moments and eventually I found it difficult to look into his eyes and exploded in a rollercoaster of feelings.
‘Can I cuddle you?’
‘Cuddle?’ I whispered in a coy voice. ‘Maybe.’
He took my hand and drew me into his chest and I didn't resist.
We were still kissing and cuddling when Kevin coughed from beyond the door, out of sight. He strolled towards us and handed me the burger.
He turned to Roland and asked, 'Is everything okay, cousin.'
My eyes flashed left to Roland, then right, to Kevin. 'Cousin?'
'Hey! Brian!' A voice, Kevin's voice in the air all around me.
'I thought I had seen you before, with Roland. We met at a party about two years ago, but very briefly. I phoned Roland and told him I'm sure it's you. And so it is.'
'You mean you guys are really cousins? I don't recall meeting you.'
'You'd had one tequila too many.' Kevin said, smiling broadly.
He knew I drank tequila? Preferably with a lemon and salt to absorb the taste.
'Brian!'
It was Kevin. Arousing me from a lucid daydream.
'Brian! Wake up!'
I was lying on the lawn in the garden.
''I'm off duty now.'
I checked the time in my hazy stupor. It was well after midnight.
'What took you so long?'
'An accident. On the next corner. A guy on a motorbike skidded across the road in the rain into oncoming traffic. He died on impact. The bike is a total rightoff. They came in to ask for medical supplies for the survivors in the car.'
'Bike? What make of bike?'
'A Yamaha V Star 950 Tourer. Black and chrome.'
Only a few people owned a 950 Tourer. One of them was Roland.
- 3
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Recommended Comments
Chapter Comments
-
Newsletter
Sign Up and get an occasional Newsletter. Fill out your profile with favorite genres and say yes to genre news to get the monthly update for your favorite genres.