Finding Parker (12 page)

A combination of my forcing my lips closed and inhaling what was a required amount of oxygen to keep me alive naturally forced what little loose lettuce that remained into my already sensitive throat. That small amount of lettuce caused me to cough again, forcing another natural inhale, and the subsequent choking.

Upon inhaling, some meat matter became lodged in my throat. Although multiple times as a child I
claimed
to be choking, and I have seen many people make the same claim, I now
knew
what it felt like to choke to death. Attempts to cough and or breathe became completely unsuccessful. I was not able to do anything which required the use of my lungs. As I waived my arms frantically, my eyesight became blurred. Hearing, after a few short seconds, became quite difficult and eventually faded to being total deaf. Total blindness soon followed. At some point in time during the process, I must have stood, because I now felt my weakened oxygen starved knees give way to the earth’s gravitational pull. As I felt myself collapse onto the floor, I was certain I would die on my first date with Victoria. A mouth full of sandwich and a piece of salami lodged in my throat, the paramedics would announce my death upon arrival.

Parker Bale. Dead at twenty-three, a victim of being a stupid sandwich eating fool.

After an amount of time I had no means of measuring, I felt my body being lifted to the heavens. Although blind and deaf, I could feel myself slowly and steadily being raised from the floor. Thoughts of Victoria left me as visions of finally being with my parents and grandmother filled my mind. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

The fatal blow.

A heart attack.

Simultaneously, I coughed, spit the contents of my mouth onto the table, and regained my vision and hearing. And then, the chest pain hit me again. I looked down. Two small hands, one clenched into a fist, pressed sharply into my chest. I looked up and across the table. Although my vision remained blurred, I could see Victoria was gone. I coughed again. As my eyes watered and I gasped for another breath, I looked over my shoulder. Despite my being embarrassed, I felt compelled to thank my savior.

And the angel of life who stood behind me – her arms wrapped tightly around my midriff – was the same angel of death who coerced me to attempt to eat an entire sandwich in one bite.

Because it would be fun.

Victoria.

VICTORIA.
Life’s greatest treasures will never be held, purchased, or bartered for. They will only be felt.

Having the ability to feel is the greatest gift God has ever given.

Parker causes me to feel.

When we feel a particular way, we may not like it or agree with it, but the feeling exists within us regardless. Changing how or what we
think
is a relatively easy task. I compare changing how we
feel
, however, to lighting a fire and placing our hand in it, then and convincing our self it doesn’t burn. It’s impossible. I don’t have a tremendous amount of experience socially, and although I don’t
know
this to be true, it’s possible Parker and I actually connect with each other on many different levels. When I am with him, I feel courageous and inquisitive. These aren’t feelings I am necessarily comfortable with, but I feel them nonetheless. In the presence of men in the past, I felt skeptical and distrustful. With Parker, I find myself saying and doing things so far beyond what I would
normally
be comfortable with, but oddly enough I
am
comfortable.

It felt as if I was blossoming.

Parker and I have had experiences and exposures in life which mirror one another. Considering this one aspect of him alone, it would stand to reason he would understand how and why I feel a particular way more accurately than any other person who doesn’t have the experience or exposure he has.

As time passes he’ll eventually become who he truly is. If it so happens and he is who he
appears
to be, I could spend a lifetime enjoying our time together. If he eventually materializes as a different person, and his true self emerges in contrast to what I believe him to be, I’ll be forced to make a decision. For now, my decision is to give him the benefit of the doubt. Based on how he makes me feel, I’d be a fool to do otherwise.

And a fool I am not.

“It’s like magic. Magical. Whatever. I love it,” I slowed my pace of walking slightly and inhaled deeply.

“I think part of it is the smell,” Parker said, his arm trailing behind him with my hand still in his.

“I agree. I have always loved the smell. It’s soothing. Sometimes a really shitty day for me is turned into a peaceful night if I get a whiff before I go to bed,” I smiled and took a long step to attempt to catch up to him.

The smell of the beach was peaceful to me. It was almost as if it cleansed me as I breathed it in. Although I lived in a coastal city, it was not always easy for me to find the time to make it to the beach. I’ve often wished I could just plop a home down in the sand and stay there forever, going to sleep and waking with the scent and the sounds it brings. As we walked along the edge of where the ocean meets the sand, I pressed my toes into the sand with each step, leaving my best impression of our existence.

My mark.

Victoria’s beach, stay away.

As he lightly held my hand in his, he turned and smiled. I looked down at his pants, which were cuffed to mid-calf. He looked cute. Knowing his dress shoes were in trunk of his car – because they wouldn’t fit in his blazer pocket – made him just a little bit cuter. He didn’t need much help in the looks department. His facial expression was generally one of someone in the middle of a business negotiation, but he was beyond handsome. His brown hair was always perfectly cut, as if it were trimmed daily. He kept it short on the sides, close to the length of the Marines stationed along the coast. The top was long enough to fall into his face if he’d allow it to.

But he didn’t.

His eyes were brown, but not brown like mine. My eyes are
primarily
brown, but have little flakes of green in them. Parker’s eyes were brown as if someone had painted them with brown paint. I hated to stare at them, but something about them was the same as Parker himself – different.

“Personally, I enjoy the
sound
. You know, when there’s not a tremendous amount of people here. When it’s quiet. The sound of the waves against the beach, it’s almost hypnotic,” he lightly squeezed my hand as he spoke.

I turned toward him and smiled without speaking. Walking along the beach on a summer night while holding the hand of a member of the opposite sex wasn’t on my list of to-do’s when the summer started, but now it was a reality. I must admit I could get used to this without much effort.

On the east coast, facing the horizon and staring out into the ocean, the sun rises from the ocean every morning. On the west coast it sets into the water at night. I’ve never decided which would be best to witness, but for now at least I was stuck with the sunsets.

Parker and I had walked along the beach for a mile or so, turned around, and were walking back toward where we began. Together, we were able to witness the sunset along the beach, and now it was slowly getting dark.

“I could get lost in watching your face express your moods. Your face changes as you walk, think, and probably smell the things you enjoy,” Parker said softly.

I tilted my head and considered making a smart-assed comment, but chose to smile instead. Pushing him away would be natural for me, but I wanted to enjoy this as long as I could. As I stood and smiled, I realized we had stopped walking. I glanced to my left and noticed we had walked back to where we started – our cars parked in the parking area above the edge of the beach was a reminder that this night was over.

It was time for me to go back to the reality of my house filled with the noise of a blaring television and my narcotics induced semi-comatose mother.

“I like looking at your face, too,” I breathed, “you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” he asked.

I turned and looked behind me, hoping to see the impressions we had left in the sand – proof of our existence along the beach – confirmation this night had actually happened just as I believed it did. The beach was void of our footprints. The waves had washed them all away, leaving nothing but smooth sand where we had walked. The only hint we had been here would be the memory I would carry with me and the impression we were leaving now.

“Yes, pretty,” I responded as I twisted my feet into the wet sand.

“Thank you,” he said as he smiled and tugged my hand lightly; reminding me our time together was in fact coming to an end. I wanted to resist, allowing the night to go on forever. As we walked up the beach I pressed my feet into the sand firmly, leaving an impression deep enough to last a lifetime.

And I did not look back.

PARKER.
I’ve never had expectation of doing anything with my life but obtaining the current goal I have placed in front of me. Eventually, I always set another objective and proceed with a new venture. I have consistently set realistic targets, achieved them, and moved on to my newest aspirations. My life invariably has advanced one goal at a time. Striving to obtain them gives me reason to live life.

I have often wondered what – if any – satisfaction is obtained by a person who has few or no goals in life, and proceeds through the course of a day by purely existing. Allowing life to merely
happen
and accepting whatever may land in your lap has never made a tremendous amount of sense to me.

My life so far has been a series of small pieces which will eventually come together to make larger pieces. I have always assumed the large pieces, over time, would assemble to make a whole. A completed puzzle. The puzzle of life solved one small piece at a time.

Victoria and I had been seeing each other for short periods of time as they became available to her for almost a month. I cherished the time we spent together, and had come to look forward to it more than I would have ever guessed. It was as if I
needed
to see her to feel accomplished. In her absence, my only concern was when would be our next available opportunity to meet. All of our time together had been a result of us
meeting
, and not necessarily a
date
. The fact that we had not been on an actual date
yet
allowed me to justify not having introduced her to Kenton.

It was as if I felt a need to shelter her from him and him from her. In my mind, to allow her to meet Kenton would be confirmation she was in fact the product of some type of experiment, some test, some game I had played, and she the poor pawn. In my eyes, at least right now, she was not a part of my employment or
the contract
in any way, shape or form.

Sitting outside on two benches opposite each other, we had been eating frozen yogurt and talking. Today, as time passed, I became more and more satisfied simply sitting, feeling the sun’s warmth against my body, and witnessing Victoria do – without effort – what she did best.

Satisfy me.

“For the first time in my life, I am not concerned with an
achievement
,” I scooped the small plastic spoon around the edge of the container, hoping for one more taste of the Vanilla frozen yogurt.

“Explain,” Victoria muttered as she spooned another huge wad of yogurt into her mouth.

“Well, I have lived my life by setting and achieving one little goal at a time, and that goal was my only focus until it was completed. Unless I could check it off the list, I had nothing else I focused on. I’ve always had a target in front of me, and it’s my
only
focus. Right now, I don’t necessarily have one, and I don’t care,” I shrugged.

I tipped the cardboard container to my mouth and tapped my fingers against the bottom. It was without a doubt empty. Frustrated, I placed it on the bench beside me and inspected my fingers for residue.

“We all set goals. It’s natural. Want some of mine?” she asked as she extended her hand toward my face, the small plastic spoon overloaded with coconut covered yogurt.

I grinned and opened my mouth. Victoria was a different type of person than I had ever been exposed to. Not that I necessarily led a sheltered life, but I had never been much of a social butterfly either. As she spooned the yogurt into my mouth, she giggled. Seeing her smile was far more satisfying to me than I would have ever imagined. It was if I had some vested interest in her happiness. Seeing her smile and sharing something as simple as frozen yogurt with her actually provided me with a form of satisfaction unlike any other.

“It’s just that,” I paused and contemplated my thoughts as I swallowed the yogurt.

“Well, I don’t know that I can even come close to describing it,” I hesitated and looked down at her shoes.

“I grew up with my grandmother as my best friend. Everything I needed was obtained through her. Every ounce of praise, pat of reassurance, and feeling of satisfaction I received was a result of my exposure to her. I didn’t receive nor did I ever
attempt
to receive it through others. I completed high school, and went on to attend and graduate from college. My completed education was my goal. I obtained it. My next goal was employment. I achieved that one as well. Now, although employed, I don’t necessarily have a goal, short or long term. Oddly enough, I don’t know that I want one. Now, right now, it’s as if something changed in me. I’m happy just being. Simply
existing
satisfies me as long as you’re part of the existing,” as the words escaped my mouth, I felt as if someone else was speaking through me.