Page 9 of Perfect Mess

I froze. Maybe if I held perfectly still and didn’t breathe, Jack wouldn’t see me. Like a chameleon that blends into its surroundings. A chameleon wearing a neon orange foam hat.

Then Janet did the unthinkable. She waved.

“What are you doing?” I gasped.

“Waving.”

“Now he’s walking over here,” Ralph warned.

It felt like my eyeballs were sweating. I snatched Ralph’s sunglasses out of his front shirt pocket and tipped the foam hat down to cover more of my face. “How do I look?” The stains under my armpits were now the size of apocalyptic black holes.

“Like Robert Duvall inApocalypse Now,” said Ralph, humming Ride of the Valkyries. “I love the smell of panic in the morning.”

“That’s not panic.” Janet wrinkled her nose. “I think one of the cows got into the baked beans.”

While Ralph and Janet continued to debate the root cause of the toxic cloud of farm odors, I turned around, scanning the barn yard for a means of escape. The ponies were twenty, maybe thirty yards away. If I was quick about it, perhaps I could ride off into the sunset.

“Mary?” The voice came from behind me. “Mary Burns? Is that you?” A man’s voice. “Wow, after all these years.”

I turned back to confront the voice, a voice that belonged to Jack Thompson.

He looked like he just stepped out of a cigarette ad in an old Playboy magazine. Was he always that tall? A red checkered shirt clung to his deltoids. His denim wrapped butt was the shape of a ripe peach. Ready to be plucked. Then plucked again in the shower. And plucked a third time after breakfast in bed. With waffles. And pancakes.So that’s what twenty years of high octane testosterone does to the human body.He wore a hat. A real cowboy hat. Black, of course. Not the neon orange foam the rest of us fools were wearing.

I glanced back at the ponies, but my window of escape was now closed. Nailed shut and mined with heavy explosives.

“It’s me, Jack.” He held up his hands like he just reappeared after a magic trick.

I knew I was staring, but my eyes told my brain to mind its own business. His jaw was a cement block. His forearms jackhammers. He wore a big silver buckle on his waist, just below a washboard of chiseled abdominal muscles. Just above his bulging …

“Ouch!” Janet elbowed me in the ribs.

Jack must have mistaken my mental paralysis for a lack of recognition. “You remember me, right?” Of course I remembered Jack Thompson. Jack Thompson still haunted my nightmares.

I scrunched my face and played dumb, which really wasn’t hard for me in that moment.. “Hmmm. Jack? Um, yeah, sure, I think so. Jack Thompson, right?”

Ralph rolled his eyes.

Jack looked older, of course. Well aged like a fine wine. In high school, his body perfectly combined an all-state quarterback and a Greek god. Twenty years later, Jack had the body of … well, an all-pro quarterback and a Greek god. Clearly, he owned a gym membership. And a team of full time personal trainers. And a testosterone injection machine.

“Janet, good to see you again.” Jack flashed his million-dollar smile, the one that made girls’ panties melt. “It’s been a long time.”

Janet’s eyes answered, “not long enough.”

“And you’re Ralph, right?” Jack extended his hand. “Didn’t we play dodge ball together?”

Ralph’s hand disappeared into Jack’s giant maw. “I’m not sure play is the right word.”

“Good times. Good times.”

“The best,” Ralph’s mouth agreed. His eyes expressed a sentiment similar to Janet’s.

When Jack turned back, I felt his eyes sweep over me. “Mary Burns. Wow.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “You look great.” His cheeks flushed. “Amazing.”Was that the tip of his tongue on his lip?Apparently, the Universe had her hand on the temperature dial and cranked things up another notch. I began sweating in places I hadn’t sweat in for years.

“Are you going to stab me with that?” Jack pointed to my carrot, the one I was supposed to feed Simon.

I realized I was holding it aloft, like Norman Bates standing outside a motel shower. “No, of course not.” I yanked the carrot behind my back. Maybe if Jack Thompson hadn’t been so distracting, I would have heard the hungry moo behind me.

“I guess I couldn’t blame you if you did. After what I did to you. That’s why I was hoping you would be here today,” said Jack. “I was hoping we could talk.”

---