Encounter with a Stranger (Part I)

Kreative Korner…
IT WAS the kind of pain that sent a searing heat through my heart. It was the kind of pain that started somewhere in my gut and made its way to my core.
That was the pain I endured; that was the pain my decision left me with; my decision to leave the space I called home; to leave him.

At 25, I had the world at my feet, just waiting to be explored. More than anything, it was this realization that gave me the strength to leave him.

“Annie!”

He was shouting when he finally got into the house that night. I lay in bed pretending to be asleep, hoping to avoid him. I heard him fumble with his keys at the door. I heard the keys fall a few times. It had taken him a few minutes before he staggered into the apartment we shared.

“Annie!” he shouted again.

“Annie!”

I got up, only because I knew he would not let up with the shouting, and that was definitely going to wake the neighbours.

“That Jonathan Smith and Annie Marvin are just trouble.” That’s what the landlord would say. That is exactly what ‘The Old Toad’ had said too many times before.

“Johnny? What is it?” I said as I let him in.

“Come here, love,” he said, breathing hard in my ear as he grabbed me.

“Johnny, no! Let go!”

“Come on, baby.”

“Get off!”

In that instant, I pushed him, drawing from the strength of my frustrations, and he went flying across the couch, hitting his head on the edge of the coffee table.

Screaming, the neighbours… and ‘The Old Toad’, bless her heart, came over soon after. One of the girls who lived right next door helped me pack. I stayed with her that night, and moved in with one of my girlfriends for a few weeks.

“Now I am on my own and ready for the world,” I said aloud, decidedly ending my depressing reminiscence.

Instead, I looked up ahead at the United Nations office on Brickdam, in the heart of the city, where I was to have an interview.

“God! I hope this works out!” I prayed.

It did, in fact, and in the next few weeks, I paid attention to me and getting some bit of normalcy back into my day. My day! The days were okay, but the nights were hard, a lot more difficult that I had expected. While I stayed clear of Johnny as I tried to get a handle on my life, I could not distance myself from the memories of him.

The minutes of that February day faded into hours…then days… into weeks…then months.

Three months to be exact…three long months, but the upside was that I was moving on with my life.

Happy, I decided to take a walk one April day. It was a bright day, clear skies and all, a plus for April, when the rains were beginning to set in; a plus for a walk in the Botanical Gardens.

I would have noticed that, were I not lost in my impervious reverie. I still got lost in my thoughts sometimes.

My train of thought was broken though when ‘he’ shouted, alarm in his voice.

“Girl! Watch where you going!” was all I heard before I felt my feet buckle under me and the world went dark.

I woke up on a bench with two light brown eyes, set on a handsome face, staring at me.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I think so,” I said getting up, only to be pushed back down, albeit gently.

“Don’t get up just yet. My bicycle hit you hard before you fell and knocked your head. I am sorry, but you should look where you are going and not on the ground.”

I managed a laugh.

“I am okay; thank you,” I said and started getting up again.

He pushed me back down. His calloused hands were rough against my bare shoulders; firm too.

It had been months since I had known a man intimately, and in that instant, my more primitive senses became alert, sensing him in every which way.

It was only then that I became aware of my flimsy lavender-coloured sleeveless shirt, faded blue jeans and leather slippers. Nothing fancy, no make-up, nothing. Not even some jewellery, save for the gold stud earrings I had on.

He — Matthew Munroe (‘Matt’) — stared at me with his deep-set eyes for a little while longer before deciding he was going to take me home.

Once I convinced him that I could walk, he pushed his cycle and walked beside me till I got to my apartment on Anira Street, a quieter part of the city a mere twenty minutes away.

Lying in bed that night, I wondered at how little I knew of this man. An annoying thought when I realized that he knew quite a bit about me… and that was my fault.

“He was very pervasive in questioning me,” I said with a sigh before falling asleep.

The next two weeks went along as usual, and ‘Matt’… correction, Matthew — I couldn’t afford to be too informal with this stranger — was on my mind.

It was uncanny the way my thoughts went back to him: His hands, his voice, his face, his eyes…Dear God! His eyes! They were deep and intense, and made you feel that if you stared too long, you’d get lost in them. 

By the third week, I was fed up of having my mind boggled by the thought of my encounter with a stranger.

I had to put an end to it, and did it the only way I knew how.

I took a walk. I waited until the Saturday, a painful wait at that, and went back to the Botanical Gardens around the same time we met the last time.

By the time I got there, I felt STUPID.

“What was I thinking?” I chastised myself.

Plunking down on one of the benches, I closed my eyes.

“What are you dreaming about?”

For a second, I thought I had imagined his voice. Heaven knows I did too many times in the last couple of weeks. Still, even as I opened my eyes and saw him on that bicycle of his, I got goosebumps.

“Is it really you?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, dismounting his bicycle and taking a seat next to me.

I smiled. “I felt like a walk, but wasn’t planning on getting run over again, so I sat down… to play it safe, you know.”

He laughed a nice laugh.

I grinned a bit more widely this time.

Matt — Matt; not Matthew; because by the time he walked me home, we were friends — was charming, funny and frank. Brutally honest is what he called it. Nevertheless, even though I realized I didn’t really know him, I had taken to him.

Things continued like that for another three weeks. In between work, we’d grab a bite to eat, take long walks, and we even went clubbing one night. We were having fun.

Matt, I had learnt, was a computer analyst who worked as a consultant with different companies. He lived in Georgetown, too, and had his own little place. In short, Matt was everything I wanted in a man… and everything Johnny wasn’t: Sensitive, understanding … the works.

“This is too good to be true,” I said to myself one lazy Saturday as I stretched out on the couch, not really watching the Hallmark movie on television.

“Maybe not!”

With that, I dialed Matt and we agreed we’d meet at Mario’s, our regular pizza place.

“Over here!” I called, when he walked through the door, only I don’t think he heard me. He seemed distracted; his eyes stared past me in a mix of surprise, longing, and shame.

“Matt!” I called again.

He looked this time, and made his way to me, leaning to kiss my cheek as he sat down.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Are you?”

“Of course! But you seemed distracted just now. Who were you staring at?”
“No one…in particular,” he said, tugging my face as I turned my head in the direction he was staring.

Shock did not even begin to describe what I felt; that and a familiar feeling tugging at my core effectively obfuscated everything.

Petite, fair skinned, shoulder-length shiny hair, fairly endowed. She was beautiful to say the least, and she was sitting near a man, no less impressive.

“So, are you going to go over and say hello to your old flame?”

Matt went red that instant.

“How did you…”

“Oh, come on Matt! She’s beautiful! And the look on your face when you came in said it all!” I said, cutting him off.

“What!” He looked at me, puzzled.

“Go over and say hello,” I urged him.

He did, and a few minutes later, he came over with them. After the introductions were made, we shared a pizza. The woman, Shelly, was quite friendly, as was the man, Andrew.

We left, arms hooked, seemingly cheerfully, but the silence that beat against my eardrums was almost too much to bear.

What was he thinking? What was bothering him? Is he still in love with her?

The last question gave me an uneasy feeling in my stomach that was anything but butterflies. Like it or not, I had fallen fast and hard for this guy. I was not sure I wanted to lose him.

And so, the silence continued: I lost in my contemplations, and he in his.

The next week moved much too slowly. What made it worse was that Matt seemed extra busy. I had hardly seen him that week.

“Matt, it’s Annie… for the millionth time! I hate you, bloody answering machine! Call me, okay!”

After three more days of not hearing from Matt, I decided to go over. Once at his place, I made use of the spare key he had given me, only to be startled out of my wits.

It was distinct as soon as I stepped through the door; the moaning of a man lost in sexual abandon.

Dazed, I turned around, only to knock over the vase that stood in a corner near the door.

“Shit!”

There was silence just then, and, in a hastily wrapped robe, Matt came rushing out,  stopping dead in his tracks when he saw me.

“I… I…”

Fumbling, and with tears running down my face, I did the only thing I could. I left.

Matt called, of course, and of course I avoided him, more out of embarrassment than anything else. He never promised me anything, but I fell in love with him anyway. To him, all we had was friendship, and all the while I was hoping for more.

I kept up the avoidance for about a week before Matt stormed my apartment late one Friday night. Like me, he had a spare key for my place, too.

“Spare keys; a fat lot of good that does,” I said in frustration when he faced me.

“We need to talk, Annie.”

“About what? How I made a complete fool of myself, barging in on you when you were making love to another woman…Or was there something else?”

“Annie, do not act like this. I am sorry and I should have said this before.”

“Was it after that night at Mario’s?”

“Yes, but it’s not what you think.”

“Not what I think! How in hell do you know what I am thinking!!!”

“Annie, I am sorry; I never meant for you to get hurt, but this is hard for me. Just let me explain…”

“No! It is quite alright; you don’t have to explain anything; just go. This is my fault, anyway; my misunderstanding,” I said, cutting him off.

“Annie, I love you; you know that; but just as a friend. There is someone else in my life.”

“I know, so now, just please go and save me the pity party.”

“Annie… I’m gay! There is no other woman! It is not Shelly and me you walked in on; it was Andrew!”

I stared, drawing up blanks as I tried to respond. For a few moments, I just stared at him, and he at me.

“Say something,” he whispered.

“I didn’t know… How…”

“Andrew and I were together for a year. His work moved, so he had to go, too. When I saw him at Mario’s…”

The words he said faded slowly as I realized I sat there listening to him explain, but I did not really comprehend what he was saying. He was gay, and I did not even realise it; never picked up on it because he looked and acted like any other straight man I knew.

“Annie,” he said, his voice coming though to me again.

“Annie, I am sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I said, as I sensed his agony.

Matt was a person, like the rest of humanity, who just wanted to be. I realized that when I looked at him.

Pulling him into an embrace, I simply said: “It is going to be okay.”

It was all I could say, all I had to say, and all I needed to say.

The love Matt and I shared was at a different place now.

It is impossible to truly understand another without making room for that person within yourself. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to determine if you are gay; there are no scientific tests or stereotypes that determine a person’s sexuality. That you find out through experience and feelings.

Then again, the road experience and feelings pushes your feet towards is not always the easiest way to travel…

SHARE THIS ARTICLE :
Facebook
Twitter
WhatsApp

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

All our printed editions are available online
emblem3
Subscribe to the Guyana Chronicle.
Sign up to receive news and updates.
We respect your privacy.