Love Thy Neighbor (9 page)

The Lounge was a large brick structure located between the Denburg
Fire Department building and Piker's Running Trail, a five-mile
stretch of blacktop that ran from one end of town to the other. The
Lounge, the biggest, most booming club in the area, boasted itself
with big, bright, blinking neon letters that blinded some drivers
when nights were especially dark. Tonight, the gravel parking lot was
clustered with rows of vehicles spaced barely feet apart. The place
was intimidating to Janna as Baron turned onto Vixon Street, braked
at a red light, and continued when it turned back to green. There
were so many people, so many bright lights. She could hear the
thundering music blaring from half a block away. It was a lot for her
to handle, but she was going to swallow her fears and deal with it.
She was going to finally have fun like a normal person.

Baron noticed her big, awed eyes. “You all right?”

“
I
think so.”

“
You'll
be fine. I'll be with you to take care of you, and if any asshole
lays a hand on you, I'll punch him in the face again.”

“
Sounds
good. Oh boy.”

“
Don't
worry. It'll all be okay.”

It'll all be okay
...
those words were as unfamiliar to Janna's ears as sand was to a
penguin.

“
Well,
here we are,” Baron said, parking the car and turning the
ignition. “Shall we?”

“
Uh...
I guess.”

“
Did
you ever get out? I mean, out of your house? Were you always
reclusive?”

“
No.
I used to be an outgoing busybody. But that was in junior high.”

“
Maybe
you just never had someone to show you how.”

She smiled. Under the glow of the powerful neon lights, she, in
Baron's eyes, looked more beautiful than a full rainbow or a colorful
sunset or a cascading waterfall. No supermodel on her best day could
look so appealing.

“
Let's
go,” he said.

She opened her door. He opened his. They both got out and walked
toward the entrance, where, together, they entered.

The place was jam-packed with well-dressed twenty-somethings dancing,
drinking, making out, shouting, laughing. Lights of every color lit
the room in rapid succession from all directions. It reminded Janna
of the funhouse she once walked through as a teen. The techno music
could be felt as well as heard. Assault on the ears; constant
thumping in the chest. Nothing about the entire scene was anything
like she'd expected. There were no drunks causing trouble, no public
fornication, no couples arguing. Everybody was happy, joyous,
celebrating life. And she'd spent the majority of hers by herself,
quietly, miserable?

What have I done?

Tonight, now, she swore she would
shed her old skin. Join in where she
did
belong.

“
Ever
dance before?” Baron had to shout to make himself be heard.

“
No!”

“
No?!
Are you serious? Come on, let's try it.”

Baron took her by the hand and led her out into the sea of thrashing
bodies. You couldn't move an inch without bumping into someone. A
woman to her left screamed in laughter. A guy to her right danced
dirty with a scantly-clad red head with bad acne. The music raged on.
The lights ignited the room.

“
Okay,”
Baron said, coming to a stop.

“
How
do we dance?”

“
You
let go, let your body move and express itself any way it wants to.
Here.”

He grabbed her hands, and they started their dance. She didn't know
what she was doing, how well or how poorly she was doing it, but she
let go and did it. He guided her, twirled her, brought her close and
back out again, made her laugh without cracking a joke or doing
anything that funny. Janna forgot about her impositions and problems.
This was what she needed. For a while, the only thing that bothered
her was one simple fact: that she hadn't done this sooner.

“
Having
fun?” Baron shouted through the noise.

“
Can't
remember when I had so much fun. Thank you!” Her eyes
glittered.

“
It's
my pleasure, Janna. I'm just glad you got out and tried something
new.”

“
We
should come here every night.”

He tilted his head back and laughed. His Adam's apple bobbed.
“Anytime.”

***

The night went on. They danced themselves out of breath and into a
sweat. Baron asked her if she wanted a water; she decided she'd have
her first beer. The thought of drinking alcohol scared her, but so
had coming to this club. Lordy, what didn't scare the woman?

“
I'll
be back in one sec.” He walked away from her, fought his way
through the crowd and to the bar.

Janna remained on the dance floor, closed her eyes, and, for a
moment, danced by herself.
For
herself. She owed it to that
hurt little girl inside. That girl needed freed.

The music stopped, restarted, and swelled. The lights began flashing
like strobes. People bumped into her, knocking her around. Her
thoughts went askew. They all got too close to her. A shoulder made
her stumble. An elbow brushed against her upper arm. “Sorry!”

She suddenly felt overwhelmed, smothered, lost again. This kind of
environment
was
too much for her too soon. These people were
strangers, and who knew what their real intentions were? The lights
were too hard on the eyes, the music and noise too hard on the ears.
It all caught up with her, engulfed her like an evil shadow. It's
when somebody's hand—she knew it wasn't Baron's—grabbed
her ass and squeezed it for a quick, cheap thrill.

Janna turned and pushed through the herd, shoving people out of the
way, knocking beers out of people's hands, the EXIT door the
prevailing thing on her mind. Soon enough, she reached it, opened it,
stepped out into the crisp cool air. Some of the panic went away.
What she wanted more than anything was to go home—her ultimate
security blanket.

“
What
the hell happened?” Baron said, coming up behind her with two
beers in either hand. “Why are you crying?”

She wasn't aware she'd started to do so. “I gotta go back home.
I don't feel well.”

“
Why?
Did something happen? Did someone—“

“
Dammit,
don't you know yet what kind of basket case I am? Why do you like me?
You're not supposed to.”

“
That's
the bullshit talking.”

“
No,
this place is bullshit. It's just not me.”

“
Five
minutes ago, Janna. Five minutes ago I saw a different person. A
confident person. A beautiful woman who was starting to come out of
her shell. What changed?”

“
Just
never mind, okay? It's not important.” She stormed to the car.
He stood under a flashing E with a disgusted expression on his face.
For as hard as her problems were for her, they were as equally as
foreign and confusing to him. He had never meant someone with
Bi-polar disorder before, or whatever it was that plagued her. He
didn't know if could deal with it.

“
I'll
take you home on one condition. You tell me exactly what happened.
You were having the time of your life in there. What changed?”

Her jaw trembled. “My freakin' anxiety disorder, okay? I had a
panic attack. That's how it happens. Everything's dandy, then hell
breaks loose.” She flicked her fingers together. “It's
instantaneous. I can't imagine the process of dying being much worse.
If you don't want to ever see me again, I'll understand. I know I
come with an unusual sort of baggage. I thought I'd changed tonight
by coming here. I was having a wonderful time until my anxiety got
the better of me. I guess a few hours of fun can't remedy something
that's taken several years to acquire.”

Baron had no response. He felt sorry for her, but he had nothing else
to say. Perhaps it was best he did take her home and leave her alone
for a while. “Okay, let's go back. It's gettin' late anyways.”
His voice sounded bleak.

***

Neither
of the two said anything during the drive back, and when they did get
back, all they said was
goodnight.

But it sounded more along the lines
of:
good-bye.

Baron entered his house, Janna hers. They both fell asleep quickly.

Chapter 8

Moving images flickered in her unconscious mind during her slumber.
The images brought horrible, gut wrenching emotions along with them.
These emotions were the apotheosis of bad, strong enough to forever
break a person.

Chairs—metal folding chairs were lined up in rows on a thin,
cheap, recently-vacuumed carpet. None of the chairs were occupied.
There were probably a hundred of them in all in the large room, which
had paintings of Jesus and angels hanging from its many walls. The
recessed ceiling lights were dimmed, but there were enough of them to
light the interior pleasingly and well. Everything faced forward,
toward the pine box casket at the front of the room. Slowly, Janna
felt herself hovering, drifting toward that casket. It seemed to take
years to reach it. Who was in it? Her mom? Her dad? Grandma?
Grandpop? A relative? Someone was in there, all right, she just
couldn't see whom. There were no flowers anywhere, no picture of the
deceased hanging on a stand. It was as if the unfortunate cadaver had
had no friends, no family, no anybody to bid them farewell or show
them they loved them or would carry on their legacy.

Inching closer, she heard voices in the background talking. Men's
voices. The word
curator
came to mind. “This woman would
have been better off if she'd never existed. Not one person has shown
up today or yesterday. No flowers, no condolences, no nothing. She's
a ghost now. It's obvious she was a ghost in life, too.”

“
Yeah.
It's a shame that some people are so forgotten in this world, like
they don't matter, like they're not important at all.”

The voices went on but faded out...

Curiosity overflowing, she sped up, floated faster toward the casket.
At last, when she saw who was lying inside, everything became deathly
clear. None of this was a game anymore. This was too real now. The
end result of her reclusive lifestyle lay before her, right under her
nose. It was Janna lying there in the casket. Nobody had come to view
her body, nobody cared about her, because she had shut everybody out.
She'd lived as she'd died: in vain. The reality set in, filled her
with intractable understanding and apprehension.

***

A
BOOM
of
thunder shook her awake at 4:07 A.M., but the remnants of the dream
remained with her. She realized she could die any time, any day, any
second, and what would she have to show for it?
No
more!!

Determined, Janna got out of bed. She let her feelings do what her
mind had prevented her from doing all this time

She marched downstairs.

Out the front door.

Dressed in her pajamas, she crossed the street in the pouring rain,
ignoring the storm, the wet, the bolts of lightning, the protests of
thunder.

And pounded several times on Baron's front door.

The porch lights came on surprisingly fast. The door opened a beat
later, Baron standing behind it, eyes narrowed, hair sticking up.
“Everything okay, Janna? Jesus, you're soaking wet.”

“
Can
I come in?”

“
Uh...
sure. You sure every—“

She lunged inside, threw her arms around him, and pressed her
dripping wet lips against his. Initially, he pulled away, caught
off-guard by the kiss. “What are you doing?”

“
What
I should have done the other night. I don't want to scare you, Baron,
but I do have feelings for you. I want to make this work. This time I
will succeed. I have to. If I panic ever again, I'll figure out a way
to deal with it, with everything that's wrong with me. And when we
make love now, I promise I'll go through with it.”

He did not object. His pajama bottoms became a little tighter in the
crotch. Without a word, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her
upstairs, to his room, where he set her gently on his bed.

She said only one thing before the magic happened: “I want
lights, please.”

He flicked a switch. A beside lamp flickered on and lit the room, lit
him. He was wearing a white t-shirt and baggy black cotton pants. To
her, he looked more attractive tired and indisposed than she did
alert and cleaned up—for the same reason some guys liked girls
who didn't wear make-up or doll themselves up to impress men.

Baron climbed on top of her. She was trembling beneath him, her legs
quivering, her groping hands grabbing his shoulders. Her bottom lip
quivered as well, and it made his hard-on harder. When his lips
touched hers, all the quivering went away. They looked into each
other's eyes during this long, passionate kiss, and were able to see
beyond just the physical. His hand grabbed her hip, then moved south,
along her thigh, down to her knee, and to her calve. She grabbed his
butt. He let go of her calve and grabbed the waistband part of her
pajama bottoms. Pulled them down, revealing soft, pale legs and her
hairy vagina. Janna yanked of her sodden shirt with such force, it
ripped. They both laughed about it, but only briefly. The sexual
tension in the room was too great for humor. Her pear-shaped breasts
bounced in response to the top being torn. Baron grabbed her left
breast with his right hand, and kissed her right breast repeatedly.
Ran his tongue around her sharp, hardened nipple. She groaned in
response, and groaned out louder when he gently bit it. Pausing, he
sat up, yanked off all his clothes, socks too. When she saw him do
so, she pushed her own socks off with her feet. A second before he
descended onto her again, she spread her legs as wide as they would
go. He grabbed both of them, felt every square inch of them. Then he
ran his hands around her hips and to her smooth, round ass. She
reached down, clutched hold of his penis, stroked it firmly, and
completed the human puzzle by sticking it inside her. Warm and hard.
Her internal juices secreted it. It felt so good being in there. The
whole experience brought tears to her eyes. She began to cry. Baron
stopped groping her and kissing her. He was going to ask what was
wrong, but when he peered into her beautiful brown eyes, he knew they
were tears of immense pleasure. He commenced to ride her, thrusting
himself into her and out of her tight orifice, slowly and deeply.
Fast and shallow. Mixing it up. First she moaned, her grunts like
Viagra to his ears. Her moans grew louder, louder still, until they
became virtual screams. “Ooooh! Uh! Ohhhh! Uh. Uhhhh! Oh my
god, fuck me, Baron, fuck me hard.”