3

       I can’t find HIM …

       We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds.

      Anton Chekhov, Uncle Vanya

      This is what I understood: before I met HIM I’d been walking blind. But now my eyes were wide open. All my senses were amplified. It was a brave new world I’d entered and I wasn’t sure how to navigate it. It felt overwhelming.

      I could not stop crying.

      But it didn’t matter. I would’ve sojourned here anyway.

      This was what I knew: I gave HIM my body. He made love to it, fucked it, slapped it, bit it and spanked it. In turn he gave me oblivion in pleasure.

      I didn’t feel that I’d ever had a choice. And until I entered his world I couldn’t have possibly known I would feel this way.

      * * *

      The next morning I was scheduled to help my landlord Sam with the maintenance of one of his apartment buildings. I met him out in the front of our duplex at 10 a.m. I unlocked the doors of my car, Sam walked round to the passenger side and I slipped into the driver’s seat. We put on our seatbelts. I looked at him.

      ‘Grandview?’ I asked.

      ‘Grandview,’ he echoed, chuckling.

      Even after all the years of living next to one another and my helping to take care of his apartment buildings, we could never say the name of this one without laughing. The Grandview Apartments actually faced a row of warehouses.

      ‘The drunk in 201 finally moved out,’ he told me.

      ‘Always fun going in after someone like that leaves. God only knows what you’ll find,’ I said, heading south towards the Grandview.

      ‘Apartment 111 says the sink is leaking.’

      ‘Piece of cake. The pipe needs a new washer,’ I said.

      ‘You’re good,’ Sam said.

      ‘I learned everything I know from you.’

      ‘The lady in 203 called last night to say the lightbulb in her bathroom ceiling fixture needs to be changed,’ he said.

      ‘What time did she call you anyway?’

      ‘I don’t know. Maybe around three in the morning.’

      ‘That lady is out of her mind. Besides, it isn’t your responsibility to change her lightbulbs.’

      ‘She’s older than I am. I feel sorry for her.’

      ‘Maybe she’s after you.’

      We both laughed. The tenant in 203 was too old and too frail to have any romantic thoughts towards him or anyone.

      ‘Do you ever consider remarrying?’ I asked him.

      ‘Well, obviously I’m not gonna marry the lady in 203. But no, I don’t think about getting married again. I liked being married to the Mrs. But when she died, I never once thought about it. It would be hard to go through all the motions of sharing my life with someone again.’

      ‘I felt like I was married to Jake,’ I said.

      ‘I know. You were married in your own fashion. What about your new guy?’

      ‘New guy?’ I played innocent.

      ‘Oh, c’mon. I saw him get out of his car a couple nights ago,’ Sam said.

      ‘Well, it’s way too soon to call,’ I said. ‘Needless to say he claims his ex-wife is evil.’

      ‘That’s too bad,’ said Sam. ‘Usually if there are unresolved feelings from the divorce, they get carried over into the next relationship.’

      ‘God, I hope not.’

      ‘Just be cautious.’

      ‘Yes, Dad.’

      ‘Well, how about you just enjoy the ride for now? Just enjoy yourself.’

      ‘Thanks.’

      Sam and I spent several hours at the apartment complex. I kept my phone on, hoping for a text from HIM. But I did not hear back from HIM that day.

      * * *

      Time passed. He never got in touch.

      It was hard to concentrate and I was useless at work. I closed my eyes during breaks from my classes, sitting at my desk recalling each moment with HIM. It was strange having erotic thoughts while waiting for my students. The bungalow where I taught my classes at the college was so utterly depressing. The buildings had been installed there in the 60s. They were supposed to be temporary, but somehow they’d remained. They looked like army barracks. There was a row of windows looking out at yet another bungalow. The students’ desks were old and covered with graffiti. I despised my job and hated it even more because all I really wanted to do was to be with HIM again. It was the only thing that now made sense. The only thing.

      I had fifteen minutes between Creative Writing and Russian Lit classes. I closed my eyes. I swayed back and forth, just a little, recalling the rhythm of our two bodies. I shivered with sexual anticipation, fantasising to the point of orgasm, my body was so aroused.

      THE BOY walked in shortly after I climaxed. He looked at me and chuckled.

      ‘What?’ I asked.

      ‘What’ve you been up to?’

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘You look like you’ve just had a really, really good time, but no one is here. Did you hide some guy in the closet?’

      ‘Ha.’

      Luckily the students arrived en masse for the class. I switched gears toTolstoy and Dostoyevsky. After class THE BOY smirked as he was leaving.

      * * *

      I fantasised and waited for HIM to call. A week had passed since our second liaison.

      I had gone about it all wrong and sold myself short. Why had I allowed this stranger into my bed? This was the man who had laid claim to my body. This was the man who knew exactly what I needed. But that was no guarantee of another