Prime, Part 2

Prime
an4@anon.lelnet.com

Day 2

It was a week before the retreat and I thought that Freya and I should
get to know one another a little better.

Yes, I know what you are thinking. Or I am thinking. Or- this diary shit is
harder than I thought. Anyway, the idea is if I could get to know her better,
maybe four days sharing a room-

Forget it. I was just thinking that I didn't want to share a room with a
stranger.

I suggested drinks at Maxi's, a little bar about a mile from the school. She
accepted.

We drove there in separate cars. It was still early- the people who are
drinking at three PM are, in simple terms, unwholesome. But we weren't the
only teachers there, and to be honest, you learn, when you teach six classes
a day, how to filter things out. You see the colleagues and ignore the
drunks. That may sound cruel but it's essential.

We grabbed a corner table. Freya snagged an ashtray as ours was without and
lit up immediately.

"Bass or Guinness ?" I asked.

I could see her estimation of me rise slightly. She smoked first, answered
second. Our little corner was getting quite smoky, but I didn't mind. It
reminded me of Lauren, who I am hopelessly fond of.

"This early, empty stomach- better make it Guinness."

I looked over to my usual waitress, who was at the bar, smoking a Virginia
Slims 120. I held up two fingers, she smiled and then used her eyes and a
smoky smile to ask me about Freya. I gave her the 'just a friend' shoulder
shrug and she turned to the barkeep to get our pitcher.

"You two know each other ?" she asked good naturedly.

"She flirts with me like she actually is fond of me in a he's a little dorky
sort of way and I give her generous tips. It's capitalism backed by false
promises of sex- just like beer advertising."

"Well, at least you understand it. And I think you're selling yourself short.
Maybe she really does like you. Does she flirt with all her customers the way
she flirts with you ?"

"Not that I can see, but-"

"And I very much doubt you're a dork. She might be looking for a  knight in
shining armour to rescue her from a life of servitude."

Somehow Freya managed to say this without mocking either myself or my
waitress. It was funny without being offensive.

Jean walked over to us just then. She was carrying the pitcher in one hand
and two glasses in the other. She smiled as she set the glasses down, picked
one back up, and poured my Guinness, just the way I like it- without the big
frothy head. Hopefully she will never tell because this little quirk of mine
could ruin my status as a major anglophile.

She smiled as she passed me the glass and I introduced her to Freya.

"Too bad you're just friends," Jean said, leaning conspiratorially close.
"She's cute."

I don't think that Freya could hear her over the music- even at three, they
were playing Depeche Mode at thunderous volume- they stick with classic
eighties alternative and such until eight, when the younger folks hit the
dance floor, which is packed until midnight- or two on the weekends. Then
it's mostly industrial and alternative- a mix of Nine Inches Nail, Rage
against the Machine, Limp Biskit, and other music I always wish I had someone
to share with.  I mean, the music is never actually bad, but when they veer
into Men at Work or something like that I become glad I'm more likely to go
home and run in the afternoon than cultivate a drinking problem.

But she might have read her lips or simply intuited what my waitress said. In
any event, I found out that Freya has a playful side.

"Tell me something Jean. Do you think that Christi is cute ?"

I shot Freya a look, but she just smoked in response, and it was an
interesting one.

"If everyone I waited on was as cute as Christi I might actually like
something about my job besides the fact that I can smoke while I work. Do you
guys want any food ?"

"A big basket of wings would be nice." Jean looked at me and I just nodded. 

"Hot, or hot ?"

It was an old joke here in the bar but Freya picked right up on it and said
"Hot !"

She bounded off, full of verve and energy.

"See, Christi, she thinks you're cute." As Freya said this she put her hand
on mine and tapped it conspiratorially. I liked the contact.

"She's just saying that-" I was enjoying this. It's fun to play these sorts
of games, although I wasn't being deceptive. I didn't think that Jean had any
reason to think I was cute or to look at me as anything but a customer.

"No. She would have just said yes. She digs you."

After she said this she drew deeply on her half smoked cigarette. I watched
the way that she placed it between her lips. They tightened perceptibly, she
inhaled for exactly one second, and then pulled the cigarette from between
her lips. She drew more air in through her perfect and slightly upturned
nose. She held the smoke and then exhaled through her nose with her mouth
still closed.

"Are you sure that my smoking isn't going to be a problem ? It seems to be
distracting you a little bit. If you mind, you should say so. I'm sure we can
make other arrangements."

I thought about it. I had a clear out here. But I didn't want it. Let's face
it. I was going to be spending several nights with a very attractive woman
who I was starting to like and even if nothing happened, it was going to be
fun- and it was also going to create positive gossip about me. This may sound
crude or mercenary, but if the two of us were put together it was going to
elevate people's opinion of me.

But I wasn't going to make my decision from there. That would be unethical
because it would be dishonest.

"Freya, I am going to tell you something, something that perhaps is
imprudent, considering what our temporary living situation is going to be.
Something only Lauren knows."

"Imprudent ? I like the sound of that. And a secret. Do tell."

She drew on the cigarette again and this time instead of watching her, I
spoke. She finished the cigarette as I told my story and she lit another.

"Well, it's imprudent because I'm going to share sexual information, but I
think that it will mitigate any lingering doubts you have about my comfort
level with women who smoke. I just hope it won't make you uncomfortable."

"Anything which indicates that you are smoking friendly will be a plus. I'm-
well, I think you and I are going to have fun if you can stand me." Her hand
had gone to mine again and this time it was a grasp. I liked it.

"It was my last year at summer camp. Lauren had slipped four packs of
cigarettes into my bag because that's the currency at camp with the
counsellors."

"Cigarettes ?" Freya asked, pulling on her own while I let her think about
it. "Oh, seventeen and eighteen year olds who get into town maybe twice a
month over the summer. Of course."

"Right. It was my second night there. They split each group into a set of
girls and boys, neighbouring cabins. The young woman counselling the girls
was the same one I'd had the year before. It was after lights out, which met
that we sat up reading by flashlight or talking about the girls while they
were talking about us. I had to go, so I took my flashlight with the plan of
heading for the bathroom. But there was Tammy, sitting on a rock, smoking in
plain site of the cabins- which was a no no.  The deal was- as Tammy told me-
was that the camp administrators knew most of the counsellors smoked, that as
long as they didn't do it where the campers could see, it was kosher."

"Sounds like the right idea."

"Well, she was crying, which was more unexpected than the fact she was
smoking. I went right up to here and asked her what was wrong, but it was a
stupid question, because she was holding a flashlight in the same hand as the
cigarette and a letter in the other."

"'Well, I just got a Dear Tammy letter and I'm smoking my last cigarette and
we don't go to town for eight days' she said."

"I can help you with that," I said.

She put down the flashlight, smiled and exhaled. "You can help me with the
fact that my boyfriend is an asshole who told me today on the phone
everything was okay when he'd mailed this letter three days ago ?"

"I was honestly just thinking that I could trade a pack of cigarettes for a
trip up to the Castle. The castle was off-limits because it was off camp
property but we always managed to get up there at least once. I mean, it was
a church camp and even though they went pretty light on the religion shtick,
it was nice to get away."

"I'm guessing you got quite a bit more," she said, blowing smoke.

"I can trade you a pack of cigarettes for a trip to the castle tomorrow."

"That's it- a whole pack of cigarettes for one trip to the Castle ?"

"That and you promise me to stop smoking in plain sight of the cabins- I'm
betting you could get in trouble for that. Why don't you go hang out with the
other counsellors ?"

"I can't. I don't- look, let's take a walk. You can protect me," she said. 

I laughed at the joke and stood there. She drew on her cigarette- I remember
the way it hissed and glowed orange, and then she exhaled, sharing her smoke
with me. "Go get the cigarettes."

"Did you enjoy it ?"

"That's an odd question." I said.

Just then, Jean brought the wings. She had two plates, but she just put one
in front of Freya, because she knew that I only ate certain lower-order
seafood.

"Could you leave the second plate, please ?" Freya asked pleasantly. "Christi
is working up quite an appetite telling me how he lost his virginity."

Jean frowned. "Talk about a lost opportunity. Oh well, I should have known."
She smiled wanly at me and walked away.

Freya swallowed a good half a wing and punched me playfully on the arm. "See,
she does like you."

"And she thought I might be a thirty year old virgin !"

"Every woman can hope," Freya said. She then threw three wings on my plate.
"Eat."

"I don't eat higher organisms," I said, being honest.

"You do today," she said, and I understood that there was little chance of
resisting the command. Which was odd. I understood the politics of it. She
wanted to make me do something I wouldn't normally do, to create some power
over me. That meant that I had some power over her.

The right thing to do was equalise the situation. I took a bite of a wing- it
was hot, but I eat Indian food, so it was certainly nothing I couldn't
handle.

Then I went back to my story without prompting.

"Well, when I came back outside, she was waiting for me. She had a towel
wrapped around her neck. A sensible precaution, considering that no matter
how many days we went without rain there were damp places in the forest. I
handed her the cigarettes and she took the cellophane off. I remember how she
stuck it in the pocket of her jeans and I liked her for that. Anyway, she
took my free hand- I had the only flashlight- and walked us about 100 metres
out of our camp. At that point, she stopped, popped open the flip top on the
box, and took out two cigarettes."

"Two ? You mean you're not a virgin and you've smoked ?" Freya asked, faking
incredulity.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you ?" I asked.

"Of course. I find your company entirely pleasurable."

She all but swallowed a wing. I seem to remember that she'd devoured half the
basket and I was on my second- I was hoping she'd keep going.

"She lit both. I told her I didn't smoke, and that they were Lauren's. 'I'm
not going to smoke a whole pack of your cigarettes,' she insisted. Before I
could say anything else, she added 'I'm only going to share my pain with
another smoker, so tonight you smoke.' I took the cigarette- and well, I knew
what to do with it. I didn't inhale much. We walked for a while, long enough
to smoke two cigarettes each- we stubbed them out and put them under rocks.
Finally we reached this place we called the shelf. It was a flat plateau of
rock. Sometimes the counsellors hung out there, but not that night."

"Good luck for you."

"She spread out the towel and we sat down. We started off by talking- well,
mostly her. She told me what a frelling jerk he was, how she had been stupid
to trust him. That was the basic bent of it. Anger at him first, derision
towards herself second. Of course, I knew instinctively that the right thing
to do was to tell her it wasn't her fault- regardless of whether it was or
not, although she was honest and it wasn't. I started by holding her hand
supportively, took each cigarette as she lit it for me, and-"

"All of the sudden you were kissing, and then the kissing turned to petting,
and the petting turned to sex, right ?"

"I still have this one image of her from that night. It was right after we- I
was trying to figure out what to do with condom- the only condom- I brought
with me. She was looking at me. The moon was out and I could see her eyes-
these spectacular eyes, green and full of life. She lit two cigarettes and
before she handed me one, she drew on both of them. The look on her face- it
was like she had forgotten the letter and everything else. But right after I
took the cigarette from her, she took the letter out of her back pocket and
lit it with the cigarette. We watched it burn on the rock."

The wings were gone. I'd only had to eat three of twenty, so I was happy. We
used the handi-wipes that came with the wings and then Freya took two
cigarettes out of her pack. I was thinking of insisting that I wasn't going
to smoke one, but the memory of that night- I decided I would have just one.

Jean showed up right after that and asked if we wanted anything else. I
looked at Freya and she understood the look meant I had other things to do.
It was a crazy thing to do but I had a certain pace I wanted to keep with
this, something that, when I get to the end of this story, hopefully after a
few more days of writing, will be clear.

"I think we're done," I said, casually taping ash into the ashtray as though
it hadn't been three months since I'd last handled a cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked, Christi," Jean said, her interest peaked.

Freya said as much, that Jean was really actually truly interested but I
didn't believe her until Jean brought back the check and her home phone
number was written on it along with 'after ten'.

I called her that night at ten-fifteen.

Day 3
To Be Continued

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