Lonely in Bakersfield
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Joanna was sitting at the kitchen table, her head down on a stack of papers. She had been there for hours and still hadn’t finished grading all of them. The sun shone through the window behind her, making it hard to see what she’d written.
It looked like gibberish to me anyway. I sat across from her with my back against one wall, looking out into the backyard where our dog was chasing his tail around the fence post. He didn’t seem too interested in catching anything today; he just wanted to run around until something made him stop running.
“I’m sorry,” Joanna said without lifting her head up off the paper. “You know how much work this is.”
She sounded so tired that I couldn’t help but feel bad about asking if we could go somewhere else tonight instead of staying home. But then again, maybe I should have asked sooner because now she probably thought I wasn’t really trying very hard to make things better between us.
We were both working long hours right now and neither of us seemed able to find time for each other anymore. And when we did manage to get together, everything felt awkward or strained somehow. Maybe it would be best not to try any more than necessary. At least for a while longer.
“It’s okay,” I told her as I reached over and took her hand. Her fingers were cold and stiff. “We can stay here if you want.”
Her eyes lifted slowly toward mine. They weren’t angry, though they might have been sad. “No,” she said quietly. “Let’s do something different tonight. Something fun.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked.
“How about dinner at the Melting Pot? You haven’t taken me there yet.”
The Melting Pot was an expensive restaurant that served fondue—a meal consisting of several courses cooked in hot pots of cheese, chocolate, oil, wine, etc., in which diners dipped pieces of food into themselves. It was supposed to be romantic. Or so I heard.
But after last night, I knew nothing about romance. So why bother going anywhere special tonight? Why even talk about it?
“Okay,” I replied. “That sounds good.”
As soon as we got home, I started getting ready by taking a shower and putting on some nice clothes. Then I went downstairs to tell Joanna goodbye before heading out. As usual, she was already dressed and waiting for me when I came down the stairs.
When she saw me coming toward her, she smiled brightly and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. That always made me happy. Even though I never expected it, I loved seeing her smile.
When I turned away from her, however, I noticed that she was crying. Not sobbing, exactly, but tears ran silently down her cheeks. She wiped them quickly with the back of her hand and tried to hide the fact that she had been upset. I hated that.
“Are you sure you don’t mind if I go alone?” I asked. “Maybe you’re having second thoughts about doing this.”
She shook her head. “Of course not! This is important to me. Just let me finish packing my bag first.”
So I waited patiently while she gathered her things. After a few minutes, she finally emerged from the bedroom with two large suitcases and a small carry-on suitcase. I helped her load the bags onto the backseat of my car and then drove us downtown to catch a cab.
Once we arrived at the hotel, she checked us in and led us up to our room. I paid for another couple of nights’ stay since we wouldn’t need it tomorrow morning. By the time we returned to the room, Joanna had changed into a new dress and fixed her hair. She looked beautiful.
After we unpacked, we ordered room service and ate dinner together. Then we watched TV for a little bit before turning in early. I lay awake beside her for quite a while, staring at the ceiling and listening to her breathing. Finally, I rolled over and faced her. She was asleep.
I kissed her softly on the forehead and pulled the covers up higher around her shoulders. Then I closed my own eyes and fell fast asleep myself.
***
The next day, I woke up feeling refreshed. My headache was gone and I felt completely normal. I showered and shaved and put on clean clothes. Then I called Joanna to ask if she wanted to meet me for breakfast. She agreed, but only if we could eat outside.
The weather was perfect for eating outdoors. Sunny and warm, with no clouds in sight. Perfect for sitting under a tree and watching people walk past.
Joanna met me at the front desk where I’d left my keys earlier. She wore a short summery skirt and a sleeveless blouse. Her hair was still wet from the shower.
“Good morning!” she greeted me cheerfully. “Ready to go?”
“Sure am,” I answered.
“Great,” she said happily. “Let’s grab a table by the window.”
Once we sat down, Joanna immediately began talking about what she planned to do that today. We decided to visit the art museum first, followed by lunch and shopping. And maybe a movie later. But mostly just walking around and enjoying each other’s company.
I listened attentively to everything she said. I really did like spending time with Joanna. In fact, I liked being with her more than anyone else in the world. Except for one person.
My father.
He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. Because he would’ve come looking for me by now. If he hadn’t, I would know. Right?
We walked through the lobby and out the glass doors into the sunshine. Joanna took my arm and held it tightly against her side. I didn’t pull away. I enjoyed the way her skin felt beneath mine. I also thought how much better I felt knowing that she was here with me instead of at home all alone.
It was late afternoon when we finished visiting the art museum. Joanna suggested we take a stroll along the riverfront park. There were lots of benches and trees to sit under, plus a fountain and a gazebo. It was a very romantic setting.
“You look so pretty today,” I told her.
“Thanks,” she replied. “And you’re handsome yourself.”
“Thank you,” I said shyly.
Then we both laughed.
A young man passed us on his bicycle. He glanced at Joanna and smiled. His eyes lingered on her legs briefly before returning to her face. I wondered who he was. What kind of girl attracted him enough to make eye contact?
“Who was that guy?” Joanna asked as soon as the boy pedaled away.
“What guy?” I responded.
“That guy on your bike. You know…the one who stared at you.”
“Oh…” I stammered. “Um, I’m sorry. I guess I should have introduced myself. Hi, my name is John. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” she said politely.
But she kept glancing at me suspiciously. Like there might be something wrong with me. Or maybe she was wondering why I never mentioned anything about meeting her last night. Maybe I’d been lying to her.
“Didn’t you see him?” she asked again.
“No,” I lied. “Why?”
“Well, he was riding right behind us for a long time. At least ten or fifteen minutes. And then suddenly, he disappeared.”
“Really?” I asked sarcastically. “How strange. Must’ve gotten tired of following us and decided to give up.”
She looked at me sharply. “Don’t play games with me, John. I saw him. I promise. I can tell when someone’s trying to hide their identity. Especially when they keep looking back over their shoulder.”
“Okay,” I conceded reluctantly. “Maybe I did notice him. But I don’t remember seeing any bikes anywhere near us. Not even parked nearby.”
“So, are you sure?” she pressed. “Because I think you must’ve seen him. Otherwise, how could you possibly explain his disappearance?”
“Look, Joanna,” I sighed. “I honestly don’t know what happened. All I know is that I haven’t seen him since yesterday. That’s all.”
“All right,” she relented. “If you say so. But let’s not talk about this anymore. Okay?”
“Fine,” I agreed.
After that, we spent the rest of our time together doing things we normally enjoy. We went to several shops and bought some souvenirs to bring home. Then we had dinner at an Italian restaurant overlooking the water. Afterward, we stopped by a bookstore and browsed through the magazines. Finally, we headed back to my apartment.
The next day, Joanna called to ask if I wanted to spend another evening together. Of course, I accepted without hesitation. This time, however, I made plans to stay overnight. After all, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to get a little closer to her.
When I arrived at her place, I found her sitting on the couch reading a magazine. She closed it quickly when she noticed me standing in the doorway.
“Hi!” she greeted me cheerfully. “Come on inside. Have a seat.”
Joanna led me to the living room where we settled ourselves comfortably on the sofa. The TV was off, but the lights were still on. It seemed like she’d been waiting for me.
“Are you hungry?” she asked after a few moments of silence. “Would you care to order pizza? Or maybe Chinese food?”
“Actually, I already ate,” I explained. “But thanks anyway.”
“Oh,” she replied disappointedly. “Well, do you want something else to drink?”
“Sure,” I answered. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
“Coffee?” she offered.
“Yes, please.”
While Joanna poured two cups of coffee from the pot on the table, I sat quietly watching her. Her hair fell down around her shoulders. She wore a pair of tight jeans and a white blouse. A thin gold chain hung between her breasts. When she leaned forward, I caught sight of a small tattoo peeking out above her shirt collar.
“Here you go,” she said, handing me my cup.
We sipped our drinks in companionable silence for a while.
“Do you mind if I turn on the television?” she finally asked. “There’s nothing good on tonight, and I thought we could watch something together.”
“Not at all,” I assured her. “Go ahead.”
As Joanna flipped through the channels, I studied her closely. There was no doubt about it now. I definitely remembered seeing that guy on my bike yesterday. He’d followed us for miles. How could I forget such a thing? And yet, somehow, I couldn’t seem to recall ever mentioning him to Joanna.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized what was going on.
***
My memory was playing tricks on me.
And I didn’t realize it at first because I was too busy worrying about Joanna.
For days afterward, I tried to convince myself that everything was okay. But deep inside, I knew better. I just needed more proof before I could confront Joanna. So I waited patiently. Until one afternoon, I received a phone call from a man named Mike who worked as a security guard at the mall.
Mike told me that he’d spotted a suspicious character lurking outside the jewelry store. Apparently, the stranger had been hanging around the area for hours. And according to Mike, the fellow appeared nervous whenever anyone approached him.
“He keeps looking over his shoulder,” Mike informed me. “Like there might be somebody behind him.”
“Who is he?” I demanded.
“No idea,” Mike admitted. “But I’m pretty sure I recognize him. You see, I work here part-time. Sometimes I have to patrol the parking lot during the evenings or weekends. Well, last week, I came across this same guy. Only then, he was wearing a dark suit instead of blue jeans and sneakers.”
“A dark suit?” I repeated incredulously. “What does that mean?”
“You’ll never guess,” Mike chuckled. “This guy looked exactly like your friend, Joanna.”
I felt sick to my stomach. My heart began pounding wildly against my chest. I grabbed the receiver away from my ear and stared at it for a moment.
Then I slammed the handset into its cradle with such force that it nearly broke free of the wall socket.
***
That night, I confronted Joanna in person. As soon as she opened the door to her apartment, I rushed up to her and wrapped my arms tightly around her waist.
“Why did you lie to me?” I cried angrily. “How can you keep lying to me?”
“Lying?” Joanna gasped. “About what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me! I know you’ve been seeing someone else!”
“What are you talking about?” she insisted. “Who has been seeing who?”
“Someone you met at the mall,” I growled. “Somebody you picked up while I was gone.”
“Stop it!” Joanna shouted. “Just stop it right now! I don’t even know how to begin explaining things to you. Let me think.”
She turned toward the kitchen counter and took several steps back. Then she reached beneath the sink and pulled out a large glass jar filled with cleaning supplies. After unscrewing the lid, she removed a handful of cotton balls and stuffed them into her mouth.
“Okay,” she announced, “let’s start by telling the truth.”
Her eyes glazed over as she spoke. It reminded me of the way she used to look when she drank. The only difference was that she hadn’t taken any alcohol today. Instead, she’d swallowed an entire box of cotton balls.
“The truth is,” she continued, “that I haven’t seen anybody since you left town. Not once. In fact, I’ve hardly spoken to another human being since you walked out of my life.”
“So why were you following me?” I demanded. “Didn’t you tell me yourself that nobody would ever find us here?”
Joanna shook her head slowly. Her face remained expressionless.
“Nobody will ever come looking for us here,” she whispered. “Because we’re already dead. We both are.”
***
After Joanna finished speaking, I stood motionless beside her. She kept staring straight ahead without saying anything further. For some reason, I found her behavior strange. Why wouldn’t she want to talk to me? What was wrong with her?
Finally, after what seemed like forever, she turned to me and smiled sadly.
“We should get married,” she said softly. “Before it’s too late.”
“Married?” I echoed. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Of course I am.”
“Well, I’m not so sure,” I muttered. “Not anymore.”
“Oh, but you must be,” she insisted. “If you really love me, you’ll agree to marry me.”
“There’s something you need to understand,” I declared. “I don’t believe in marriage.
The End