House of Sin: Part One (6 page)

He was right in a way, we were madly passionate about our music and playing live but we didn’t feel the need to do the big shows often. We jammed every couple of weeks at Brad’s house, it often turned into a party with other friends.

“I’ll talk to the guys about, I’ll see ya Frank”

I pushed open the heavy metal door and stepped into the back alley, there she was. My bike waited for me just as I left her. I had a brief memory of leaving my pedal bike lying down outside the general store as I poured change on the counter for candy. The old bike seemed to summon pleasant memories, it didn’t mind that I left her here. She was old friends with the theater by now.

I fired it up, it was as loud as the devil in this alley. I warmed it up as I always did, with each snap of the throttle it gave a scream. I contemplated my route to my questionable lunch date. The bike hummed along and told me she was ready. Off we went to see Heather.

The little restaurant was charming, I haven’t been there in years. It felt slightly different then I remembered. There was Heather staring at her phone in the corner.

“Hiya”

“hey”

“Seat taken?”

“It is now”

She pushed it out slightly with her foot.

I took the seat and sat down.

“So how are ya feeling” I asked.

“Meh, I’m alright”

A waitress asked if I needed a drink.

“Beer and tomato juice “This was the final step in the revival process.

Heather was lost in her phone, I wondered why she would ask me to hang out if she was just going to stare at her phone.

“Do you still believe in Love” she asked not looking up from her phone.

I felt my pulse increase, this was not good opener, my mind raced and I wondered how I could get out of this.

“I met someone” she said looking up at me.

I relaxed, my heart went back to normal.

“Who’s the lucky guy” I asked

“Don’t flatter yourself Jack it’s not you”

The waitress returned with a pint that was not quite full and a can of tomato juice. I slowly shook the can to tomato juice and responded.

“It’s amazing how easily we can sabotage a good thing by overthinking it”

“I mean is it too late for people like us”

“People like us?”

“In our thirties”

I gave her a look questioning her thinking and poured the tomato juice into the pint.

“What has gotten into you” I asked

“It’s like, through-out your life, slowly things are taken away. First the tooth fairy isn’t real, then Santa, eventually some tells you that you can’t actually be an astronaut, or a movie star. Sometimes I feel that someone is going to pull me to the side and tell me Love is a myth.”

I was drinking my elixir half listening, I put the pint on the table with a bang.

“Why don’t I just kill myself now” I questioned.

“I’m serious Jack”

“If you truly believe love does not exist you will easily cast love away, If you focus on what you don’t want deeply enough it will become real” I poured the remainder of the tomato juice into the pint.

“That my dear Jack, was a load of shit” she responded. Heather can be a bitch, she gave me her best bitch face and moved slightly to show her cleavage off a little better.

“Imagine you’re walking on a narrow country road” I began to explain

“Here we go” she rolled her eyes

I leant in and made eye contact. “You are walking alone down a very narrow road and you can see a car way up ahead, the car see’s you too. Behind you is another car, they too can see you. Everyone knows the road is narrow and no one wants everyone to pass each other at exactly the same time because there might not be enough room.”

Heather drank her tea, and smiled. “I would just run over the person walking”

“You are the person walking, now pay attention”

“Both cars and the person walking are making adjustments in there speed to avoid all meeting at the same time, there is plenty of time to avoid this, in fact the timing would have to be perfect for this to happen, it should be easy to avoid”

“So . . .”

“So, what happens every time?”

“What?”

“Every time, the two cars and the person walking meet at exactly the same spot, even though that’s what everyone was avoiding”

We drank our beverages and shared an awkward moment.

“Be careful what you focus on, it will come true”

“Fuck off” Heather looked back at her phone. I briefly daydreamed about ripping it out of her hands and smashing into a million pieces on the floor.

“Just let yourself feel good, think nice thoughts, and feel sweet emotions, life works better that way”

I drank what was left of my beer and tomato juice, laid down money on the table and stood up.

“That girl seems a little square for you Jack” Heather changed subject without warning

“I have to run”

“Take care willow” her mouth was left in a pout.

The ride back home was pleasant, the nice part of riding a bike is you can smell every restaurant you pass by, when you pass over a small bridge you can feel the cool air from the water running beneath. I let my mind wander, the bike seemed to know where to go. I was pulling into my driveway before I knew it.

I opened my front screen door and promised myself I would replace it soon, it really stuck out being on such a beautiful home. I laid on my couch and thought of Leah, thinking of her gave me a warm feeling. I usually cherish my Saturdays afternoons alone, but today I was lonely. I wanted Leah to be here. I knew I would search for her at the Sunday Market tomorrow.

“Fuck”

I recoiled back in reaction to bacon grease spitting up and hitting me in the chest, 30 years old and I still haven’t learned never fry bacon with your shirt off. Sunday mornings call for a big breakfast and good music, I put on Otis Redding and let the record play.

I knew I was being silly, feeling like I did. My own advice for Heather was echoing in my head, I am going to let myself feel good. Even if she looks at me like I had two heads and four eyes when I found her, from now until then I am going to feel good. It’s hard not to when Mr. Redding is playing nice and loud.

After my morning feast I finished my coffee in the garage and sized up my most recent project, a 1939 Vincent Motorcycle. A rusty old frame sat at eye level and a box of parts were on the table. I drank my coffee and stared at it dreaming. I like to dream, when you stop dreaming your dead. Sometimes dreaming is better than the real thing. I often let my mind wander where ever it wants to go, too many people question their own dreams and adjust thoughts as if others could see what they are thinking. No one can see, it’s a safe place and the only person who will judge you is you.

My mind was running and I chased it along, I can find myself in dark places sometimes. Leah, she was sweet and had an innocence, but as I thought about her in the garage she was in a black leather outfit looking a scared. I like when girls look scared, I would never say that out loud but it’s true. Also a dark thought, If I see a girl walking with a limp or in crouches with a pant leg half rolled up it turns me on to no end.

I sipped my coffee in the garage and was lost in my thoughts. I put her in the corner on all fours, the tight leather attire left everything between her legs exposed, she looked scared but propped up her ass like she was offering it to me. Her hands were in leather gloves but her fingers were exposed, she stuck them in easily. My little shop was a mess of metal and tools, there she was in the middle of it on all fours like a sex slave, my slave. Sucking her fingers and burying them in her wet pussy, staring at me with scared eyes as she fucked herself, her fingers slowly disappeared into her cunt, in and out, in and out.

I came.

I was masturbating and barely noticed, I looked down at my cock that was rising and falling with every heartbeat, cum dripping off. I came all over the shop floor and my hand, I looked in the corner where Leah was and there was nothing. I gave my head a shake, maybe I let my mind wander too much sometimes. I picked up my coffee from my work bench and sipped it.

It was another sunny day, not unlike the day before. I spent a little more time getting ready than usual, put on a little more cologne than usual, brushed my teeth after my electric toothbrush vibrated and told me to stop. I put on my favorite shirt the fits just right, it smelled of fresh laundry. She had me under a spell, I wanted her to like me, I wondered if she expected me to show up today. I was messing with my hair but gave it a rest when it occurred to me I would be putting on my helmet. I was a little nervous, it felt good to be nervous.

I brought my brown leather saddle bags out to the driveway and began to attach them to the bike, I figured if I was going to a farmers market I might want to bring some stuff back. The sun was exceptionally hot considering it was so early in the day. I could hear sprinklers and kids laughing, pleasant summer sounds rushed by my ears.

These fucking saddle bags were never easy to put on, I was struggling with them when Marjorie caught my eye, she was watering her driveway. I never understood why anyone would do such a thing. She waved when she noticed I looked up, I waved back.

The bike was ready and I stood back and looked at her, “what are we in for today” I thought as if I was speaking to the bike. I stretched my back and looked at the blue sky, the smell of fresh cut grass rushed by. I considered what I might need before my little day trip, sunglasses and cash is all I could come up with. It was hot so I didn’t even wear my jacket, just my favorite t-shirt, jeans, and boots. I eased out of the driveway and took my time down the road. I was not in a rush, it was a beautiful Sunday and I was feeling good. I drove slow, sat back on my bike and smiled. My only plan for today was to go a farmers market to find a sexy girl that was probably selling cherries, this day was damn near perfect.

I have driven by this market many times over the years and considered stopping in but never have, I would always debate pulling in a little too long and the entrance would fly by. The street was busy with people on foot so I stopped on the street and waited for the narrow entrance to clear. I was happy I decided to bring the bike, finding parking for my truck would have been impossible. I spotted other motorcycles all parked together and was able to wedge my bike in.

Looking around I tried to decide which way to go. It was a bee-hive of activity, swarms of people crossed and flowed between tent lined walkways. I was immediately taken back by the amount of effort merchant had put into their displays considering it was only for one afternoon. The music of street musicians climbed over the volume of the crowd. Almost everyone was smiling, exchanging knowing nods to one another. I made my way into this tent city and tried to notice all the little handmade trinkets, homemade bread, paintings on canvas, and a plethora of other creative concoctions. It was impossible to look at everything, I was getting dizzy with the movement and stimulation.

The smell of coconut and Thai curry caught my attention, I followed the scent like a blood hound, the delicious smell brought me to a black and red tent with sizzling woks beneath. It looked amazing, I took a mental note that I would come back for lunch. I asked the man that was cooking up a storm where I might find the cherry stand. He gave me some directions that involved taking a left the kale stand, and a right at the falafel truck and so on. I thought I recognized the guy from somewhere but he seemed occupied so I just thanked him and went on my way.

I took off my sunglasses and put them on my head pushing my hair back like a head band. I really liked this place, I had no idea how big it was. I took a right at the falafel truck as directed, all the merchants seemed to be farmers along this stretch. The vegetables still had soil on them, the hands of merchants were dark as if from the same soil from pulling the vegetables out of the ground recently. They were a proud bunch, they seemed happy to be there, like this was the easiest part of their week.

The cherry stand.

I didn’t recognize her at first, but it was indeed her. She wore tight weathered jeans and a white t-shirt with a deep v-neck. When she spoke to people she was constantly smiling. Her whole face contributed to her expression, her eyes and cheeks and nose all did their part. I stood back and watched her do her magic. Everyone she spoke to seemed better off for haven spoken to her. Partly, it was the reactions of people she spoke to that made her so beautiful. She seemed to make the day a little better. Her tent was smaller and lighter than the others around. Behind her was a large carved wooden sign that read “Fox Glove Farm” Her display was mostly cherries portioned out in little baskets but there were other vegetables too. She worked fast and hard. Weighing vegetables, chatting up the customers, taking money and making change. She was alone and I assumed she set all this up herself.

A line of patrons were forming and she was quite busy, I debated what I should do. If I stood there any longer it would have been creepy, I had to make a move. I watched a little longer and read the signs around her stand. Quickly I figured out what they cost, how to weigh them, where the little bags were, and took some mental notes of what she was doing. I took a breath and made my way over.

“Are these organic?” I asked. It was supposed to be comical because the word organic was everywhere. I knew no matter what I said the moment would be a little awkward. Leah looked my way and took a moment to register who I was, my heart sank because it was the first time she wasn’t smiling. Slowly the smile returned. She finished the transaction with her customer.

“Oh boy,” Leah said to herself loud enough for me to hear. She was looking down smiling and laughing lightly amused by the moment. “I was wondering if I would see you today.”

She returned her attention to her next customer and I slid around and grabbed a bag before she could, “I always wanted to do this kind of thing, may I?” I asked and continued with-out waiting for permission.

She laughed at my boldness, “Alright, alright, you can do the money part”

She moved me over to the left, it made more sense for me to play that role and I fell into place quickly. It was a small space so most of the time we were touching in some way. We didn’t talk to each other a lot, mostly Leah was speaking with customers, she was very good at what she did. Leah would tell me and the customer what everything tallied up to and move on to the next person. I felt my presence did actually speed up the process slightly and lighten her load. I was enjoying myself.

Leah floated around, re-stalking the displays with boxes of cherries and other produce that were stacked behind. When the line of customers died down she would banter with the other merchants, I contributed to conversations sometimes but this was very much her space and I was trying to respect that so let her lead the day. I tried not to get caught looking at her as she stretched to grab something. She would perk her bum up and it was a challenge not to notice her shape in those tight jeans. They were ripped in places, it made me think of those black tights. I could tell these tight, tired, jeans meant something to her and I did not make plans on ripping them off. I imagined her wiggling her bum to help me slide them off.

A bell rang.

All the merchants reacted to the sound of the bell.

“What’s up” I asked while I was reorganizing boxes of potatoes, I was really getting into this.

“Time to pack up” She raised a hand to high five. I am not a fan of the high five but at this moment it felt right. “That was the five o’clock bell, it means the market is over, we did it!”

I am not sure exactly when I showed up but I only then did I realized several hours passed us by, it felt like minutes.

“You did good Jack.” She had a playful tone.

“What happens now,” I asked.

“We tear all this stuff down.”

“Let’s do this thing” I was looking around for my plan of attack. All the other venders displays were disappearing before my eyes, they looked like they had done this a million times.

“Stack these next to the tent” Leah shoved a box of potatoes in my chest and pointed where they were to go. The next few minutes I was bossed around by her, together we collapsed the tent, and in no time we were standing next to a pile of boxes and a folded up tent. “Wait here” she said and took off.

“Jack Willow?” A passer-by asked carrying a box awkwardly.

“Hey”

“Good show Friday”

“Thanks” I responded as he walked on by.

My feet and back were tired and I was starving, I hadn’t eaten anything but cherries. I hoped that wok place with the curry was still open.

Honk

A car horn demanded people to make way, an old truck backed slowly, meandering around obstacles. Leah had an arm out the window propping her up. She was twisted around looking back asking people to make way as she backed up the old truck. She edged back to where I was and exited the truck with a twirl.

“Nice truck” I said looking it up and down. It really was, a mid-fifties Ford, red in color with wooden rails along the box.

“Thanks”

I began loading up, it took no time at all before everything was in place in the back of the truck. Leah was leaning on the truck like a sexy farmer girl.

“Well Jack, it’s been fun”

It seemed like the start of a good-bye, I didn’t want to part yet, I realized it probably was the appropriate time say good bye but I wasn’t ready.

“Lets grab something to eat” I suggested.

“I want to get home Jack”

“Where’s home?”

“Princeville”

“Princeville? You really are a farm girl” I knew Princeville as a rural area I drove through on my way into work. “I know a good restaurant there”

“There is only one restaurant in Princeville and it is not good” She laughed, “I have a dog to get to, and I have been slow cooking a roast all day”

A silence hung between us, I sensed if I said nothing and just stood there she would invite me over for dinner.

“Where’s your car” she asked

“Motorcycle”

“Motorcycle . . . I hate following people, or people following me. There is only one exit for Princeville, head north ‘for eight miles, red barn on the right.” She did a twirl back into her truck. She was thinking, probably questioning inviting me over. I rested my hands on the door of the truck.

“Can I bring anything?

Leah started the motor of her beautiful old truck and I took a step back, “Wine”

“Any preference?”

“Red, something big, bad, and French”

And with that she was on her way, I took a look around surprised that almost all the venders had torn down completely. I could actually see my bike without the obstruction of all the tents. I made my way back. There happened to be a wine store close so I grabbed a $25 Bordeaux, I know very little about wine but I have noticed it’s from Bordeaux and twenty something bucks everyone’s happy.