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The Sight--Chapter 2 (standard:mystery, 2266 words) [2/4] show all parts | |||
Author: SoLikeCandy | Added: Mar 19 2001 | Views/Reads: 3079/2106 | Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
Chapter 2 A mysterious old man watches Ruth--and Will makes his move...comments are welcome! | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story think about Will. When she saw him on the first day of class, she’d guessed him for a big cocky White boy jock. However, after listening to him talk about the material covered in class, her opinion changed. Will had a quiet intelligence, an easy manner of expressing himself that impressed Ruth. He seemed like one of those guys that played football in high school and read Brave New World before practice, the kind of guy that went to sports bars with his buddies on Fridays and poetry readings on Saturdays. The female students in 20th Century Lit fawned over him. The funny thing, and one of the most attractive things to Ruth, was that Will either didn’t care or didn’t notice. He would just return greetings and waves from girls with a polite and modest nod, and place his three books for the course—all of them in one massive hand—on the desk and sit down, eagerly waiting for class to start. Will Paxton was an incredibly tall Nordic looking creature with broad shoulders, hands that looked like they could crush soda cans as flat as paper, hair the color of wheat and electric blue eyes that sparked when he smiled. His voice was deep and masculine, and it rumbled just a little when he spoke, loud enough to catch everyone’s attention but not overpowering or intimidating. He and Ruth had the habit of engaging in more than one “intense dialogue” within the class discussions they had on various texts. The professor often joked about the verbal boxing matches they had that sometimes dominated the hour long block. Will came into the store early one morning, looking for the latest issue of Rolling Stone. His hair was tousled from the breeze and he ran a hand through it, smiling at Ruth, making small talk and asking her opinion on the reading assignment for the day’s class discussion, Anais Nin. “You know you’re completely wrong,” he said, smiling with those perfect pearly teeth, “and I’ll prove it to you. Come to the library with me after class tonight.” Ruth and he shared a happily adversarial relationship in class, but rarely spoke on campus outside of casual hellos and the occasional conversation at parties to which they were both invited. Of course, asking him out on a date always went through her mind, but the idea of bringing him home had its obvious drawbacks, what with his blue eyes and blonde hair, and her father’s aversion to White folks. Nevertheless, the potential situation was intriguing. “Oh yeah?" Ruth asked. "How will you manage that?” Will’s smile faded a bit, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I’d show you some articles about Nin and her father.” “You could e-mail them to me,” she said wickedly. Will pretended to ponder this. “Yes, I could do that. But then how would I buy you dinner afterwards?” Ruth’s heart skipped a beat at the proposition, but she quietly laughed. How juvenile. Couldn’t he have come up with a better line? “Alright,” she said. “Tell you what. We’ll make a game of it. If you can prove me wrong, I buy you dinner. If I’m right, you have to buy me dinner.” “Seems fair enough. Pick you up at six tonight.” “Hey,” Ruth said, “you don’t have to.” This really was turning into a date, wasn’t it? she thought. Will started to back away toward the door. “Well, if you insist on this being a date, I guess I do have to pick you up. I’ll call you before I come over.” He flashed her another disarming smile and began to walk out. Ruth stood there, grinning and wondering how he’d find her number. She’d never given it to him before. “You’re in the directory, right?” he called behind his shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” The old man pretended to read the newspaper on the table. He looked at the headline: “LOCAL COLLEGE RATED BEST IN STATE”. He sipped his water, pulled his battered old felt fedora down on his head, sipped again. He pushed his spaghetti from one part of the plate to another. It was cold. He hated spaghetti, but he supposed the waitress expected him to order something other than water. He looked at his watch again, and again at the door. The couple walked in, arm in arm, both carrying backpacks, laughing and laughing. He knew her face—had studied it for years from afar, watching her become a young woman—and smiled. Her soft, bushy hair bounced and brushed against her warm brown skin. Her eyes crinkled just a bit when she laughed. The young man she was with did not look familiar. He was very tall, with piercing pale blue eyes that looked like he had something to hide. He did not like this young man. The waitress came to his table. “Everything alright, mister?” He nodded and smiled. Angie doted on him whenever he came to the diner. “Do you need anything? How’s the food, good enough? Doesn’t look like you’ve touched it at all.” He put a hand up and made a kind gesture of dismissal. “Fine,” he said, “thank you, Angie. But, please, more water, if you could.” “Whatever you want, mister.” She flashed a smile, took his glass and walked away. He hoped Ruth would choose a booth close to his. She and her man sat down in the booth beside him. Good. Perfect. Ruth and her man were very animated, talking quickly and laughing. The old man loved her laugh. “Well, her affair with Henry and June Miller doesn’t prove anything except that she was a freak,” Will said. “Wrong,” Ruth replied. “Her affair with Henry was just like the one she had with her father. Nin gravitated toward older men, and Henry was quite a bit older than she. She wanted sexual freedom, but she also wanted security and familiarity, and to be scolded for her incestuous behavior. Thus, her affair with Henry. Sex and discipline were one in the same, read her stories on Bijou. Typical father/daughter fixation. June was just there because Henry wouldn’t have it any other way, and Anais figured it would be fun.” She sat back, pleased with herself. “I’ve never read the Bijou stories,” Will said, frowning. “You should have read them for last week, doofus, two of them were assigned.” Ruth leaned across the table and punched him playfully. Will feigned injury and frowned again. “Now, look what you’ve done. I should go home and put ice on this.” “You’re not getting out of buying me dinner that easily,” Ruth said. Will looked at her mischievously. “Then I’ll make you something at my place. We can always eat later.” Ruth’s eyes widened. So did the old man’s. He knew that boy was no good, trying to get her to his house...but he couldn’t say a word. Damn. She opened her mouth, tried to say something, closed it again. “Only if you want, Ruth,” Will said, trying to soften the blow. “I mean, I didn’t mean it that way. I mean, well, you know, if you wanted to come to my place...but it’s no big deal if you don’t....Jesus, I AM a doofus.” He offered a sheepish smile. The old man sat forward. Ruth noticed this, and thought it strange, like he was listening to their conversation. He quickly sat back, took his wallet out and laid a $50 bill on the table just as the waitress came back. “Thank you, Angie, you’ve been attentive and kind, as always.” She laughed. “And you’ve been generous, as always. Your bill’s only five dollars!” “Well, dear, you deserve it. Go buy that lovely red dress at the store down the street. It would look perfect on you.” With that, he stood up, touched her shoulder lightly, and left. He passed Ruth’s table, and his eyes met the eyes of the young man. They gave each other a quick, strangely knowing glance. What a sweet old man, Angie thought. Kinda strange, though. She had admired that dress in the store window on the way to work this morning, but hadn’t mentioned it to him. Weird. He walked down the street swiftly, pulling the hat over his eyes. The sun still bothered his eyes, even now, when it was slowly sinking behind the buildings to make way for evening. He thought he would get used to it, but it was so strong, so bright. He sensed he’d frightened Ruth. He didn’t want to frighten her. But that boy she was with was up to something, he knew it. He also knew that the boy had some idea of who he was. Play it safe, man, he thought to himself. Find her tomorrow, and watch from a distance. Back at the diner, Ruth had managed to speak. “How about...we just stay here and eat?” she asked nervously. “We’re already here.” “Yeah,” Will replied, “right. Good idea.” Good Lord, this man moves fast, she thought. Nothing wrong with him...he was damned attractive; she silently congratulated herself for being good looking enough to catch the eye of such a beautiful man. So, he wanted her in bed, so what? It had been 9 weeks since the semester began, and she’d been eyeing him just like the rest of the giggling girls in the class, though significantly more discreetly. They’d known each other for a while. But, they didn’t talk much outside of class. Better to get to know him more, make sure he wasn’t a clingy type, or some sort of psycho. Make sure you like him. She smiled at him again, a bit coquettishly, and they ordered when the waitress came. Be a good girl, Ruthie, she thought to herself. Morals dictate that you at least wait until the third date for any fun games. “So, I'm a little behind on things in the class, and I think I need help...would you like to get together next weekend?” Will asked when the waitress left. “I’d love to,” Ruth said. “You read my mind.” “In a matter of speaking,” he said cleverly. Tweet
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