Day 37
(Helen’s Perspective)
I reluctantly answered the phone, “Hello?”
“Hey, It’s William. What’s new?”
“What’s new? There’s this thing - caller ID. It actually lets me know who is calling before I answer.”
“Oh! You’ve got that? And you still picked up?”
A slight smile…”Okay, what do you want, goofball?”
“Well, I know you’re going to think I did this on purpose, and maybe I did, but it wasn’t conscious on purpose, but subconscious on purpose, so totally not my fault. I realized this morning on the way home from class, that I pass right by Krav Maga class. Would you be interested in me maybe picking you up after class and sharing a ride to Adventures in Acting? I just made that up, by the way - cause I’m a goofball in that lovable sort of way.”
“Eh - that’s something I’m going to have to think about and get back to you. I’ll let you know. Thanks.” I responded and hung up - with a furrowed brow, I thought to myself, “Did he call me Helen?”
(William’s Perspective)
I stared at Helen’s picture - my finger almost touching the screen. It had been several days since I introduced her Krav Maga, but the tension hadn’t eased. I don’t know if she didn’t trust me or if things were just uncomfortable from all that had happened. Harold’s presence had become a little less ominous, and his two friends avoided me outright, but she had been more Helen than Verity lately. I don’t know what she’s thinking. Torn - I pressed the green icon.
“Hey, Helen - how are you? It’s me, William. Oh - you know? I guess - yeah. You still picked up?” This seemed like a good sign, a sigh of relief escaping.
“What do you want?”
“Oh, um… this is probably dumb, but I pass Krav Maga on the way to class. Do you think you’d be interested in my picking you up after your morning class and riding to Adventures in Acting, together?”
“I’ll have to think about it,” was her terse response, ending the conversation.
(Helen’s Perspective)
The coffee sloshed into my cup as I poured - still half asleep. I tried to put forth the effort for this class, but it was becoming more and more difficult. A bump, and “Excuse me. I apologize. I was just trying to get some coffee.”
“No worries,” I replied turning. Curious - I’ve never seen her in class before. “I’m Helen.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Helene. Here, I brought you something.”
“Brought me something? I’m sorry? Me?”
“Yeah. Here.” She pulled something from a bag near her feet and handed it to me - a fur coat.
“I don’t…why are you giving me a coat?”
“Aren’t you cold?”
“No - why would I be…”
“Well, Harold said you were cold. So I brought you a coat.”
Heart sinking, blood running cold - dizzy. I stumbled to a chair. She followed.
(William’s Perspective)
Solitaire - it’s good for those moments when, well, when you’re alone. I moved the 8 of spades on my tablet screen. Supposed to be writing a play for some presentation in a week or two - who remembers days at this point. Helen and I hadn’t talked much since the phone call. There was a friendly but distant “hi” when we sat for class, but as everyone else worked in pairs on preparing their play - we’re playing solitaire and getting coffee. I glanced over at the coffee bar and noticed someone I hadn’t seen before handing Helen a coat. “What’s that all about?” Did she leave her coat somewhere, or…
“Hello, Billy.” I spun around - Harold, hands in his pockets face oozing confidence.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, doing everything I could to keep my cool.
I looked over at Helen as she seemed to lose her footing and head to a chair. One foot forward - but I hesitated. Would she want me to? I was torn, and I didn’t want Harold following me over there causing her more grief. Better to deal with him here.
“Me? I’m in this class. What are you doing here? By the way, you’ll have to meet Helene. She’s wonderful. If you’re nice, I’ll introduce you,” a triumphant chuckle as he pointed in her direction. “She’s a real delight.”
In that moment I promised myself that Harold would not win one interaction with me not physically, mentally, or emotionally. No fighting this time. Today’s foil was mental and emotional, but Harold’s a lightweight in all those fields.
“Yeah, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me and my new partner.”
I chuckled, “Looking forward to it!”
“Looking forward to what?”
“Spending more time with you. So far it’s been a blast! Break down your bike, your face, very interested in what’s next.”
“What’s next is I’m going to wreck what you’ve got going with Helen to start.”
“That’s your mistake, Harold. You think you’re a giant of a man, when really you’re just an incident. It’s true that Helen is in a rough place right now, but that happens to people. Sometimes people are in motorcycle accidents, or maybe their head gets stuck between a rock and a hard place. What some people don’t understand - and clearly you’re one of them - is that these things that cause trauma are just incidents. Sure, you punched Helen, but she could have just as easily stepped on a rake, or had a tree fall on her. You just happened to be the thing that happened. Fair enough, but it still makes you just an incident. No one cares about incidents - they care about the people they affect. Your problem Harold is that you’re an incident, and nothing more. You strut around here like you belong, or like people should bow as you walk by, when you are literally the poster boy for “Shit happens.”
The scowl on his face and his balled up hands told me I’d achieved my goal. I walked to the far side of the room away from Harold — and from Helen.
(Helen’s Perspective)
My jello legs were draped over the side of the chair as Helene approached again. She jabbered on, but I couldn’t hear her. I was scanning the room for him - and there he was. Talking to William. I don’t know what was said, but William had obviously said something to make him angry. William started walking toward me - relief. Wait! He turned and went the other way. Why did he…William, I need you.
Day 42
(Raoul’s Perspective)
Ugh! I didn’t expect Harold to actually find a new partner. Now I’ve got his sicko attitude back in the mix. And finding someone named Helene! That’s ridiculous. I ought ride him out of town just for that.
A sigh as I walk through the doors again. Move to desk, bag down. “Hello class! Today should be very exciting! You will be practicing the lines from the play that you and your partner have written over these last two weeks - which I have not read, by the way. Let’s see them captivate and draw us in. Knowing how to deliver lines is crucial to chemistry. There is natural chemistry, but punching the audience in the face with a well-delivered line makes chemistry boil.
You will have two hours to practice your lines together and then we will hit the stage where we perform live. Let’s do it!”
(William’s Perspective)
I looked across at Helen. She wouldn’t even look at me. Eyes down toward the desk or looking back at Raoul as he spouted off some more of his daily nonsense. I don’t know how much more I could take. At this point, I was seriously considering asking for a new partner. Pondering it for another minute, I decided. Today is delivery day. Either something gives or it all breaks.
(Helen’s Perspective)
I can’t even look at William at this point. He’s stopped calling me Verity, and I don’t know why. I mean - I know why - but I haven’t been able to be the same me since Harold in the parking lot. William was as valiant as he could have been in the situation - I just don’t know where we stand - or stood at that point, even. We’re just friends, AND we’re actors. It shouldn’t be this hard to get back on track. Friends get past miscommunications like this, but I don’t know how.
(William’s Perspective)
I determined to give today my all. We would show the class what sparks looked like as we were on stage with the play we’d written together. Well, mostly together…I mean the stuff I started before all of this blew up. Neither of us had spent much time on the script since then, but I pulled it up on my tablet.
“Hey, partner, let’s practice.”
(Helen’s Perspective)
“Partner? He isn’t even going to use my name at all now? How far gone are we?” I asked myself in silence, then turned up my eyes. I suppose it was meant to be funny, but I didn’t laugh. William was wearing a red clown nose.
“William, I appreciate the gesture, but let’s not clown around today - pun not intended.”
“Haha,” he replied dryly, “obviously this is for our script read.”
“Oh! Oh, no! I heard Raoul say it, but it didn’t connect until now - I’ve never read the play that William wrote for us. Yanking my phone out, I pulled the script up and skimmed it.
“This is what you wrote??” I couldn’t believe this. “We’re reading for two clowns in a traveling circus?”
“Yeah - raising a baby elephant with a broken trunk. It’s very heartfelt - and also a bit sad.”
Hmm… was he describing the script or us?
“…plus the twist at the end is that it’s a balloon elephant!” He continued.
Maybe our friendship was a bubble - about to burst.
“Here, I brought you a nose,” - he slid it across the table toward me. I poked it and then picked it up.
I read the script through before we began. It was terrible. It wasn’t anything that I could put my heart into and I needed that today. I was so conflicted that nothing would have worked, but us as clowns? And a balloon elephant?
And it was our turn on stage.
(William’s Perspective)
I watched as she read the script. I could tell from her face that she wasn’t liking it, but I also wondered a little bit if maybe it was me that she didn’t like. I had only tried to help and I couldn’t understand why I was frozen out. I would never deliberately try to hurt her.
We tried to read our lines, but it just sounded cold and there was no emotion in it - although after reading it through again, I had to admit that I’d written a pretty stupid play.
A cup of coffee later, and we were up.
I looked across the stage at her. We had agreed to leave out the clown noses. It was her start, and I waited for her cue. She began.
“Butterflies need to be free,” she said.My jaw dropped at the pivot and I began scrolling through my script looking for a reset This wasn’t in there. Panic - what do I do now?
“So do elephants!” I replied.
“Elephants lumber, butterflies float,” she replied.
(Helen’s Perspective)
I was on stage, but I wasn’t ready to be a clown. I’d felt like a clown for the last ten days. I’m not a clown. I’m a butterfly.
“Butterflies need to be free.”
Poor William. I couldn’t help but feel a bit of angst for him as he scrolled through his script looking for a response when there was none. But I also didn’t care. He was part of these last ten days, and I needed to take back some control.
“So do elephants!” He said. What was that? Is he still trying to save his epic failure play?
“Elephants lumber, butterflies float,” putting the ball back in his court.
“Butterflies? let’s talk about butterflies!” He began to my surprise, his face sharp and determined. “Butterflies are beautiful, but butterflies can also start a hurricane, or so they say. Does that make them friend - or foe? Think about it, though, butterflies and the wind - now there’s a pair.”
“Butterflies are amazing - I love butterflies.” He continued. “But sometimes butterflies need the wind - a breeze to give them a little extra lift. The wind isn’t there to be beautiful in their place, or hold them back. The breeze just wants to help them reach their highest potential.”
“Easy for the wind to talk - it can’t be captured. It just slips through the fingers. Nothing can catch the wind,” I responded.
“A butterfly can.”
His words stopped me cold. It was game, set, and match. It was too much, and I turned away - tears began. Then - a soft touch on my shoulder - “Verity…” I spun around and hugged him harder than I’d hugged anyone in a long time. Uncontrollable tears as he didn’t say a word and just held me - the only sound the applause of the class.
(William’s Perspective)
My heart broke as she turned away. I placed my hand on her shoulder and said her name…our name, “Verity.”
(Helen’s Perspective)
I think, Dad, that it was a lot of inner turmoil and some growing up that I needed. I knew William was trying to help, but in the moment, I felt so vulnerable - and Harold had made me feel so helpless. I needed to be the one in charge, and William didn’t mean to take that away, but to some degree he did and I have to choose to forgive him for that. Today I did forgive him. And I apologized after our stage debacle. I told him I was sorry for shutting him out. He wasn’t the one that had kicked this off. It was Harold. I think you’d like William a lot, Dad. I do.