NEAR MISS
Single and 31.
I was, in the words of Brigham Young, a "menace to society".
My search for an eternal companion was now in its 10th year. I'd seen most of my friends marry, many later divorced and on their second mate, but all of them enjoying some degree of wedded bliss.
My dating life was less than dead, resembling Virgil's descent into the 12th ring of Hell, the only difference between the two of us being that at least Virgil's trip had an end.
All I could hope for was a peaceful death, someday- followed by eternal servitude as a genderless ministering angel to a bunch of married people with their 5 million kids. It made me wonder if chastity was really worth the effort.
Being a Mormon, I had somehow navigated the rocky shoals of immorality, but it wasn't easy. The loneliness was the worst part.
Spending most of my days at the end of a frayed emotional rope, I sought female companionship at
church dances. They were always held in the gym, the ever-present glitter ball broadcasting diamonds of light over the floor and walls. I had been going to the damned things so long I'd seen the music change from disco to new wave to who knows what.
But this particular night seemed different, somehow.
Could it be that she was lurking here somewhere- what the overly optimistic (or deranged) called the "one-and-only"?
My soul mate.
Nah. Never happen, I told myself.
But even now, after all the bad dates and near misses, somewhere inside burned a feeble cinder of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she is out there.
I cast my weary gaze around the gym as I trolled the edge of the crowd on the way to the refreshment table. Two minutes later I concluded that the field was not white, or ready for harvest. In disgust, I retrieved my coat from the hallway, and was unlocking my car door when a beat-up red pickup sped into the lot, then screeched to a halt. Someone in the passenger side waved at me.
The doors opened and out came two young ladies. One was tall and bouncy, the other much shorter and sullen, almost reluctant. They were arguing about something the smaller girl was wearing.
As they walked past me, I was expecting some eye-to-eye from the waver, but when I saw how pretty she was, I looked away.
I pocketed the keys and followed them inside, at a respectable distance, of course.
The heat in the building was intense, so off came the coat as I started the hunt, looking here and there.
"Brick House" had ended, followed by "Stairway To Heaven".
A slow dance.
I felt a tap on my shoulder and there was the short girl, long straight bangs covering her eyes.
"Wanna dance?" she asked me in a sullen voice.
I said I would, and walked out with her, feeling like I was doing her a favor. She seemed a little awkward, and her hands fit inside of mine. I placed my left hand around her waist. I didn't care much for small women, but I'd be polite.
"Say, wasn't that you and your friend in the truck outside."
"Yep".
Great, I'm dancing with the little sister.
"I'm Dan."
"Norma, here", she said, suddenly turning for a look away.
She's already bored.
"So, what do you do?" I asked.
"Do?"
"For work, I mean."
"I watch Nancy."
"What-?"
"My sister- the one who waved at you. Miss Popular" she finished sarcastically.
Too low to look over my shoulder, she resorted to leaning to my right and left.
"Excuse me, I have to go" she said as she broke free, skittering across the floor and into a crowd of onlookers.
Never having perfected the art of dance hall conversation, I wondered what it was I hadn't said that drove her away. I moved off the floor at a high rate of speed and was almost to the door when I saw the tall sister. She was laughing and clapping her hands together at something a younger guy was saying, the gloomy half watching from the couch she had retreated to.
I continued to stare at this lovely creature for longer than was comfortable, her gaiety a little too much for my style.
Then the miracle happened. She stopped listening to him and glanced my way, almost like it was destined. She walked to me and held out a warm hand.
"Hello there. I'm Nance".
And I was slayed.
"I'm Dan. Wanna dance?"
Without a word she hooked an arm through mine and off we went to the floor. She was perfumed, friendly, confident, and best of all close- and for the next five minutes of "Stairway", time stopped.
Talking to her was easy, holding her close felt natural, and when she took up residence against me, it was all I could do to maintain.
Everything I said was interesting, and funny, and that laugh of hers was loud but not too loud. From there it was effortless, the minutes and next couple hours melting away as we talked about everything under the sun.
The only dark portions of the evening came when her little sister approached.
"Nance-"
"What? What do you want now?" my girl replied.
Norma scowled at me, then whispered something to her sister.
"No, I'm busy", Nance said. "We'll leave when I'm ready."
As the evening wore on, Norma's hovering became more and more of a distraction. Nance told me to ignore her, then whispered.
"She's a little jealous. Her love life has been a disaster for years" she said, warm lips brushing my ear.
"A disaster? I know what she means."
"You. Trouble with girls?" she asked. "That's hard to believe."
"I guess I'm too picky or something-"
Norma was back, tugging at her sister's coat.
"It's getting late."
"You know what?" I said to Norma, "It isn't that late. What's your problem, anyway?"
Norma gave me a look that basically said Shove it, moron', then pulled at her sister again, and Nancy let loose with laugh.
"Tell you what" she said, her palms holding Norma's cringing face. "Let's get something to eat- then we can get you home, poor baby."
Norma slapped her hands away and stormed out of the building, as her sister giggled again. This seemed a cold thing to do, and I looked at my new found love. The beauty was there, but so was something else.
"Looks like we'd better go" I said and retrieved our coats. As I helped her into hers, she turned and pulled me close.
"You're really asking for it, you know" she whispered, her face so close- and then she kissed me full on.
Though out of practice, I gave it the old college try. Aside from almost passing out, I didn't do too bad.
"Mmmm" my new-found goddess half-moaned. "We'll need to continue this conversation a little later, baby." And with that, she grabbed my hand and led my dazed body and mind to my car.
Favoring me with another round of osculation, she waved off her sister's incessant horn honking, then whispered something I couldn't quite make out.
"What?"
"You'll see what. I'll tell you more in a few minutes. Just follow us home, lover- but at a distance."
"But-"
"Gotta ditch the witch" she said, and ran to the truck.
Lover?
Witch?
This was a Mormon girl?
Intrigued but confused, I watched them leave the parking lot first, then left in pursuit. My heart was beating hard with anticipation. Gotta keep yourself in control, old man, I told myself, knowing where this would all end up if Nance and I spent too much time alone in the dark.
The truck sped along the road, little sister at the helm. Within minutes they pulled up to an apartment complex on the edge of town, and I coasted to a stop, flicking off my headlights like this was a stakeout.
The truck pulled into a parking space and then the sisters made their along the arborvitae-lined sidewalk. Near the stairs, Nance tapped Norma on the shoulder and a heated conversation ensued. Nance was pointing at the truck and holding out her hand for the keys. The only word I could make out was "purse."
Norma was shaking her head and stepped around her sister, heading back to the truck.
In a flash of movement, Nance snatched the keys from her sister's hand and shoved her into the dense foliage as she raced to the truck.
What the hell?, I was muttering as the truck tore out of the parking lot. I started the engine and drove by the line of bushes, Norma nowhere in sight. Hormones quickly trumping charity and concern for my fellow woman, I sped off in pursuit of Nance, her taillights disappearing around the bend in the road. As I looked back I saw Norma stumble out of the brush and wave her arms. She looked furious.
I shrugged my shoulders and went off into the night, a beautiful woman waiting somewhere ahead.
As I rounded the corner I could see her taillights not too far off. She had slowed down, and as I came up behind, the truck began swerving back and forth across the center line. She was having too much fun.
Then the engine revved, tires squealed, and she was off, headed towards a main street.
We passed a gas station and some convenience stores before she finally pulled off into a parking lot behind the Camelot Bar and Grill.
By now I was getting irritated. This was no longer exciting- more like manipulation.
Nance jumped out of the truck and waved as she ran over to me and applied the mouth to mouth, making me forget most of my aggravation.
"Oh, Daniel- you're so hot. How could any woman resist you?"
Me, hot?
Now I knew something was wrong.
"Nance, why don't we just-"
"C'mon. Let's get something to eat. I'm starved."
She was pulling me toward the restaurant and I was protesting, albeit feebly.
"It'll be fun. Just you and me. Come on."
Then she let go and started dancing around.
"Look at that beautiful sky and the stars" she said, hands stretched toward the heavens. "I haven't had this much fun in years."
Then she pulled me into Camelot.
Darker inside than out, the only substantial light came from a solitary candle stationed at each booth. I took her coat and we landed at a table near the cashier's station.
Nance was giggling about something and couldn't seem to stop. She'd get her breath momentarily, then explode with a guffaw or two before surrendering to a steady stream of laughter.
Under normal circumstances, I could find the hilarity quite contagious. Judging, though, by the stares directed our way by the cashier and several of the patrons, this was not a laughing matter. She was on the verge of disturbing the peace.
"Nance- Nance" I whispered. "Shhhh!"
"N-n-n-no" she wheezed as tears streamed down her face. "You shhhh'" she gasped, index finger pressed against her lips, followed by another burst of gaiety.
Eventually it subsided and she laid her pretty head on my shoulder. The perfume was casting a spell, reminding me that I was in the thrall of a real live woman, who for some inexplicable reason thoroughly enjoyed my company.
"So, tell me, Danny boy- Who do you like better: me or old sober sides?"
The question caught me off guard.
"What?"
"Who's prettier: Me or Normal?"
"Well, I uhahh- you, of course."
She sat up, the sudden serious cast of her face startling me.
"Tell me the truth, lover boy. You can't marry us both"- and with that she burst out laughing right in my face.
Then she stopped.
"Oops. Gotta pee", she whispered in a conspiratorial tone, as she stood and made her way to the bathroom, stopping at the door marked "Princesses" long enough to look back and release another torrent of laughter before heading inside.
Realizing that I too needed to "tap a kidney", as my late uncle was fond of saying, I beat a hasty retreat through the door marked "Princes".
Sizing up the lavatorial conditions, such as they were, I was sure that King Arthur himself would have had the responsible janitor drawn and quartered for dereliction of duty, as touching upon conditions in this less than royal kybo.
As I washed my hands, I could hear the thumping bass sound of a country-western band through the walls. That was when I looked in the mirror and noticed traces of Nance's lipstick and makeup smeared across my mouth and chin.
I was starting to wipe off my face when I heard the Princess's door slam shut, followed by more telltale laughter, and a "Hey there, sweetie!" coming from a distinctly male voice.
Nance yelled something back, and I could feel the romance draining from the evening.
Two guys stumbled into the restroom, chuckling and speaking in low tones.
"Who the hell was that?" the shorter of the two asked the other.
"Beats me. She's a babe, though. Haven't seen her around here before."
"Well, I have," said the shorter guy. "She was here last Saturday night. Danced till 5 am with almost every guy in the place. Never got never got her name, though."
"We'll have to remedy that situation ASAP".
I must have been staring at them because the larger fellow started right back.
"Yeah?- What?"
I shrugged and rushed out, fearing the worst.
The booth was empty. Hoping against hope that she was out in the truck, waiting for me, I went to the parking lot. It was deserted.
Sick with the sudden realization that another romantic evening had embarked on a one-way journey down the proverbial flusher, I was trudging back inside when I heard a squeaking sound, accompanied by short gasps of breath. It was coming from the darkened street that ran past Camelot.
Then a bike came into view.
It was Norma.
She slowed down, aiming her vehicle toward the entrance as I slunk back and through the front door.
Raucous music blasted from the country-western band in the adjoining bar, making it impossible to tell if Nance's sister was coming in or not. Taking cover behind a beaded curtain in the hallway between the restaurant and the sinful confines of the bar, I watched and waited.
Norma's faced appeared at the front window, her breath steaming it up as she looked this way and that. Then she disappeared from view only to reappear in the lobby seconds later. Light brown hair disheveled, she seemed quite worried as she questioned the cashier. I stepped a little farther back into the shadows.
Taking one more look around, she dashed out the door to resume her journey of discovery.
Now what?
One of the advantages of being a practicing Mormon is that one lives free of the many problems associated with excessive or even moderate alcohol consumption.
On the other hand, the knowledge deficit that results from lack of exposure to the ways of the drinking world was sorely felt by yours truly. To say that I felt uncomfortable standing in a bar, of all places, would be an understatement. I might as well have been walking through a brothel, for the shame I was feeling at the moment.
Dressed as I was in a suit coat, pants, tie and black wingtips to match, I looked like an out-of-town businessman whose rental car had broken down in the bad part of town. Having a face decorated with the remnants of a make out session didn't help either.
A bellow of familiar laughter floated to me from the smoky dark interior of the bar, followed by a couple whoops of male origin. Nance was in there somewhere- but I hesitated.
The only other time I had set foot in a bar was to retrieve my aunt Gladys. My mother's only sibling, she was a boozehound from the word go.
As she bailed out of the family car at a nearby intersection, she told us that she'd be "jusht a minnid"- and then wobbled into a local watering hole known to its less than discriminating patrons as "Yer In Luck" (a poor play on words if there ever was one).
After 15 long minutes in the station wagon, I was elected to go and fetch Gladys.
"Hellholes of Satan" my Dad muttered as I got out and headed for the den of sin.
At first I didn't see her, but was drawn to a crowd gathered near the stage at the front of the room. It seems that Gladys' delay in returning to the car was due in large part to the fact that she had partaken of more of the "spirits" (as she called them). She subsequently passed out and fell behind an old player piano, where she was presently wedged.
As the crowd was unable and/or unwilling to help her return to the upright position, I persuaded three fellows to help me- at a cost of $5 per person- to extricate her from her prison and hold her together until we could stuff her back into the car.
Realizing it was now or never, I stepped forward into the smoky gloom, grateful that for the moment no one could see me. I walked past the bar, all the tables vacant due to the line dancing going on out on the dance floor.
And there she was.
Thrashing around in front of the whole group, Nance was laughing and singing at the top of her lungs. The line moved forward and back as one man after another tried to get her to join the group- but she was having none of it, and at one point she started slapping at the potential candidates.
And then it happened.
One of her slaps connected with the crimson cheek of a short, bespectacled fellow wearing Army fatigues.
The silly girl continued laughing and carrying on, unaware that the military man she'd struck was now standing right behind her, his fist flexing in time not to the music, but to his clenching jaw.
The line dance was disintegrating as its members stopped to watch the unfolding scene.
And for some reason I'll never fathom, I stepped forward, as hormone-driven chivalry once again overcame common sense and basic survival instincts.
For a moment I thought all was well. The soldier glanced up at me, then walked away. I approached Laughing Girl and was telling her that it was time to go, when I felt a hand wrench my shoulder and push me away.
He was back.
Short enough that he had to look up at Nance, he put his angry finger in her face. The smiles and laughter disappeared from the girl as she backed away from him.
"Who do you think you are? Huh? HUH?"
"Well, I uh-"
"You come in here acting like the frigging queen of the frigging bop-"
"Now you just hold on there!" Nance was starting to say when he backhanded her a good one.
For a few eternal and timeless seconds silence reigned. Then Nance livened things up with a deep-throated scream both long and loud, which caused me to involuntarily dash forward and shove Soldier Boy as hard as I could.
My date for the evening then launched into a volley of alternating screams and sobs, diverting my concern away from the whereabouts of the fallen soldier. As a result, I didn't hear his approach or anticipate the greasy fist that pasted me across the jaw, sending me to the floor.
Nance was in the throes of hysteria, a good sign that her mental rowboat had just gone over the edge of Sanity Falls.
Lying on the floor, I got a blurry look at the crowd and realized that not all fist fights turn into bar room brawls, especially this one. Far from wanting to get involved, these patrons of the liquid arts were more interested in the entertainment value, which, in this case, was turning into a double bill.
Then the khakis and black marching boots appeared, inches from my face, as the man in uniform pulled me to my feet. Knowing I couldn't hold my own against this seasoned fighter, I mumbled a "sorry" and stepped back, but not far enough. My predator pasted me another one straight on, the snap of nasal bone and cartilage sending jagged bolts of pain blasting through my face.
Staggering back into the shadows, I could hear the clomping of shoes running across the dance floor and saw someone or something streak past me.
Much to the delight of the cheering crowd, Norma had returned in a big way, her first act being a calculated leap onto Army man's back. As he staggered to and fro, Norma followed up by pummeling of his skull with a fury seldom seen in our civilized world.
The last thing I remember was Nance running from the room, screaming at the top of her lungs as I resumed a horizontal position on the floor.
I awoke sometime later to flashing ambulance lights and the sound of police radios.
Slumped in the corner of a cramped ambulance, I was starting to feel a crick in my back and sat up, only to feel another rush of more intense pain in the middle of my face. Pulling pieces of cotton from my nose and mouth, I could see that I'd lost some blood, but would probably survive.
The pain medication buzz made me a little light-headed, but pleasantly so.
Telling the EMT personnel I was okay, I exited the red and white vehicle and was heading back to my car when I noticed Norma through the front window of the Camelot, talking to an officer.
Curious, I went inside and sat down in the booth behind them. After they finished, the officer said he'd contact me later about pressing charges, etc., then left in his patrol car.
"Hi, Norma" I said.
"Yeah- whatever." She was pissed.
"I don't know what to say", I offered. "She was so nice at first. Then things went downhill fast. I thought-"
"Save your breath, Dan", she said with a hint of sarcasm. "You've done enough for one evening."
"What do you mean, "done enough?" I fired back. "I didn't plan any of this. I-"
"BULLCRAP you didn't. I saw the way you were with her- taking advantage like that. You guys make me sick!"
Norma was just getting started.
"You get back from your mission and think you're God's gift to womankind- as long as they are LDS- and you're oh so righteous and proper and the perfect gentleman- but most of you are first class horn dogs, and the first time some sweet young thing comes your way and shows you some natural affection, the hormones take over as your words and ideals and conscience go out the window."
"Whoa, there- stop yelling at me."
"Yes, that's right" the outraged Norma continued. "Excuse me. I forgot that you were just trying to comfort her in her time of physical need, right? That's what all the bear hugs and kissing were about- you S.O.B.!"
I'd had about enough of this.
"Fine," I said. "You want to judge me? Well, go right ahead- but I'm going to tell you something."
"Oh- oh- please do!" Norma said. "I'm dying to hear your pearls of wisdom."
The sarcasm was sickening.
"In the eight years I've been back from Argentina, I've been on more dates- good and bad- than you could ever dream of. I've dated wonderful women, as well as my share of princesses, Molly Mormons, borderline psychotics and unwed mothers. I've been stood up, knocked down, engaged and disengaged. But through it all I've always treated my dates with respect. So don't go trying to lump me in with all those other guys- the ones looking for a cop and a feel, or something more. I've been looking for a wife all this time, but after tonight I think it's high time to say the hell with it and go fishing or join the frigging Foreign Legion. Romance is an impossible dream."
For the moment that seemed to have shut her up. She was silent, staring down at a paper napkin she was torturing with her nail bitten fingers.
After a long silence she looked at me through those bangs of hers.
"So, you've had a rough time, huh?" she said in a hushed tone. "Well, you're not the lone ranger, you know." As she spoke, her right hand touched the inside of her other arm as if reminded of something.
"And since we're on the subject of respect, how do you justify the way you led her on, knowing she was so vulnerable?"
"VULNERABLE?" I croaked. "She was all over me."
"You actually expect me to believe you didn't see what was coming?"
"Huh?"
"Nance has a problem. It's serious enough that I have to watch her all the time- ever since she was little."
"But how? You're the little sister. How could you-"
"Little sister? Is that what she told you?" Norma was shaking her head and twisting the defenseless paper in knots.
"She's the little sister. I'm 28".
28? I was starting to see this woman in a different light.
"You said Nance has a problem?"
"Yeah. Ever hear of bi-polar disorder? Well, she has it big time- and you didn't see it?" she said more than asked, looking steadily out the plate glass window.
"Man, youve got a lot to learn about life." She was touching the sleeve above her wrist absent-mindedly.
I could feel myself getting agitated again, but my curiosity overcame the effects of her verbal abuse. I could sense there was something she wasn't telling me, some strong emotion that seemed to course through her as she went on.
"So, where is Nance now?"
"After they caught up with her, she was restrained tossed into double lockup over at the hospital. She'll be there for a few days. Then she'll be released to my custody."
"What about your parents?"
"My parents died three years ago. Car accident. It's just Nance and me."
"Hmmm" was the best I could come up with. I still felt there was something else going on here.
"Well, Dan, I gotta go" Norma said as she stood to leave.
"Riding that damned bike up here, and kicking Soldier Boy's khaki ass really took it out of me. That's enough for one night."
I followed her to her bike, which leaned against a battered telephone booth.
"If you don't mind me asking- Nance said your love life is a disaster. I told her it couldn't be any worse than mine."
"Gee. Thanks a lot, Sis" Norma muttered.
"Sorry. I just though that"
"Yeah, drop it."
"Well, let's load your bike in the trunk. I'll give you a lift."
"Sure- whatever" she mumbled. Collapsing in the front seat, Norma looked exhausted.
The ride back was soaked in silence. I drove slowly, buying time as my mind searched for something more to say.
She was staring out her window, that right hand touching her forearm again and again.
Then something clicked upstairs.
We arrived at her place and I was turning off the engine while she rushed back to retrieve the bicycle.
She struggled with the handlebars in a lame effort to wrestle her bike out of the trunk. Her sleeves of her long blue dress rode up to her elbows, revealing jagged lines that crisscrossed the skin all along both arms.
"Well, Dan, see you around. It's been fun"
"Norma, wait."
"What?"
"I want to know something."
She acted like she couldn't care less.
"It's late" she said without turning around. "See you later."
She was walking away from me.
"Norma- tell me about the scars."
She came to a stop and just stood there.
I stood in front of her.
"I want to know" I said as a solemn feeling of pathos and concern washed over me.
She stood and stared, dumb-founded for the first time that evening.
I slowly took the bike from her and she sat down on the cold sidewalk.
It took Norma a long time to tell me about those scars. In fact, there was so much to explain that it was 20 years of marriage and four children later before I finally understood.
By that time I guess you could say that I was no longer a menace to society.