Authors: Nate Allen
A Change of Needs (2 page)
She was wearing comfortable clothes, which he would later learn, didn’t do her voluptuous figure any justice whatsoever. He was wearing a long sleeve thermal shirt that served its purpose on the autumn eve, yet intentionally revealed a hint of the chassis he had built beneath it, faded jeans and a pair of sixteen year-old sharkskin boots that fit his mood on this occasion.
If “
All the world’s a stage and we are merely players
…” then nightclubs are its “improv,” countless dramas, comedies and one-act tragedies simultaneously playing out all at once, complete with the ever popular impersonations, people either pretending to be someone they’re not, or who they think someone wants them to be on any given evening, all in the name of lust and hopes of getting laid, and everywhere critics. Leon’s had no shortage of “characters.”
It had been a long hard week, as a self-employed landscaper, the fall is a busy time, aerating, seeding, and fertilizing are hard but necessary work before the onslaught of leaves makes the work impossible and takes a precedence all its own, and this year in late October, there was an increased sense of urgency to get the one done before the other occurred. It had been a dry year, unusually dry, and the leaves had turned colors early and in doing so, shown their intentions of falling early as well. It was a time when he was still cutting grass, and yet doubled with the task of sowing the same thirty lawns so that his customers would have need of his services come spring. It was laborious, and he sometimes enlisted the help of day laborers that could be found at an unofficial, yet well known labor drop-off point near Cabarrus Street on the fringe of southwest downtown Raleigh, just blocks from the Municipal Building, the Amtrak station stood as a backdrop to what often sadly looked like a modern day Hoover-ville.
Raleigh had experienced enormous growth the previous decade, and continued to. It was the type of growth that other areas of the country had to be envious of, but it had not been a universal prosperity. To those native to the area like himself it had seemed destined to, the proximity to three major universities and diverse research institutions, the World-renowned Research Triangle Park that they collectively fed and had given rise to, an educated workforce, combined with a temperate climate, and location, location, location. Mountains to the west, the Atlantic to the east it was naturally beautiful.
North Carolina, as one of the original colonies was steeped in history and tradition, and yet it was in many ways not unlike the image of Mayberry that The Andy Griffith Show had painted it to be, Raleigh seemed like the world’s biggest small town, with growing pangs and aspirations and apparently there were signs all over the country pointing toward it,
RALEIGH, NC 2342 MI
, etc.
The northeast must have been littered with them, NY, NJ, PA, Ohio, and the list goes on and on, or so the license plates on the beltline would indicate. No state was safe from Raleigh and the Triangle area extending a welcoming hand. Rest assured, it’s true that you can’t keep a good thing secret, and Raleigh and North Carolina had historically been the country cousin that other more metropolitan areas had not taken seriously, a place visited on vacation, but not invited to the table at the big house so to speak.
It had not happened overnight, but had been long in the making, life in the South has historically been slow, and while it was quickly picking up pace, it was largely of our own design and architecture. The tenets of what had made the area unique remained in place, and as a southerner, patience, while unnatural to humans in general, was part of the culture. Things didn’t always get done when you wanted them to, but they got done. The area had waited its turn, and was now getting a lot of national recognition, and happily welcomed the unemployed looking for opportunity, the wealthy looking for continued prosperity… (And to show us how its properly done,) the middle-class Northern Urbanites looking for greener grass, or at least
some
patch of it, and the retirees looking for a comfortable alternative to Florida, Arizona, etc., to spend their golden years. All willing and able to pay their taxes, spend their disposable income, feed the local economy, etc. And to be sure, once the migration had begun, there was no shutting the door.
The continued acclaim became a priority and monster fueling itself. The City Administration seemed to have an obvious and undeniable “pissing contest” with its regional neighbors, Richmond, Charlotte, even Hot’lanta. And its propaganda-publicity campaign had worked, almost too well, to the point the growth was on the verge of exceeding the infrastructure necessary to sustain it. In reality the majority of the companies that came, brought employees with them, and the really “good” jobs they created, were of a high-tech nature that folks like Jake were not qualified for, nor could directly benefit from, only indirectly as unskilled entry level jobs in their plants and facilities or by result of the construction itself, building their homes, or like he, mowing their yards and landscaping their upscale lawns. It was a time when artisans and tradesmen prospered, plumbers, carpenters, painters and the like, made a slew of money and fallow tobacco fields took on romantic names as new neighborhoods and million dollar subdivisions, the previously land-rich/cash poor became new players in the local economy.
After a particularly strenuous week, he was too exhausted to put on any “airs” when heading out. It was an occasion that provided a fair and accurate representation of him, genuine and unpretentious, and I am certain that was of some importance as to what would later transpire. Like her, there was nothing typical about the man, beyond the physical outline of him and the simple initial assessment, he was a complex contradiction, like that curious item at a yard sale that you keep revisiting and examining, trying to make sense of and determine its value and worth. There was more to him than meets the eye …mostly in a good way, though unknowable future events might require some amendments to his personal constitution.
He had played many roles in his time before deliberately heading down this difficult, wonderful, yet narrow path he now called his life, and in the process pissed away more opportunities than most individuals get in a lifetime, but tonight he was simply a man looking to get lucky, and she wasn’t getting up from her perch, and he wasn’t about to intrude, so upon finishing his beverage he proceeded to the dance area, to the chessboard so to speak, to participate in the game at hand.
As the night progressed and closing approached he found himself in the company of two women in their 30’s, one attractive, one not so attractive. The attractive one he had met months before, her name was Lisa, or Leslie? …and that in its entirety was all he knew about her, except as he recalled, she sometimes hiccupped when she giggled. He had nearly sealed the deal with her when her less attractive friends saved her from his lecherous intentions. He had later wondered if she hiccupped at other inopportune times, and tonight thought he might solve that mystery. She had brought along her equally amorous friend Grace, that name he was certain of, as he couldn’t help but notice her lack of it, and the three of them were moving around on a sparsely occupied dance floor, like they were all ready to get naked and jump in a pile.
Lisa/Leslie was an honest “7” and Grace a “5” and in that convoluted and politically incorrect math that occurs everywhere at closing time, they were a collective “6” which seemed like it had all the promise of an unholy night …but then he saw her again. She was now standing at the edge of the dance floor leaning against an empty booth, smiling to herself, enjoying the spectacle of it all, like a child in “time-out” sitting on the bench at the playground wishing she could join the fun, but prohibited from doing so. She was alone at the moment, no friends to run interference or complicate the conversation, fend off unwarranted advances like girlfriends sometimes do, and as one song ended and another began, he seized the opportunity to approach her, leaving the girls dancing by themselves until they eventually noticed his absence, and upon doing so took off to land elsewhere like barflies. “
I’m Jake
” he said, extending his hand to shake hers, and noticing the wedding band in doing so. “
I’m Rae Anne
” she replied, he paused for a moment, struck by the irony of it. “
That’s interesting, my father’s name was Ray, and my mother’s name is Ann, nice to meet you Rae Anne.
” “
That’
s more than interesting.
” she chimed back, I was named after my father and mother. They shared a comfortable laugh for two people who had just met, each simultaneously recognizing the extraordinary chance of it all, she thought of it as a
coincidence
…he would think of it as
meaningful
. In the matter of about a minute and a half she had managed to make him nervous, perhaps not overtly so, but nonetheless he felt the tension radiating from his neck down his spine to his limbs. It was a compliment to her and his immediate attraction towards her, it was rare in his adult life, and it excited him. Though it’s in our nature to extinguish the feeling, fight or flight syndrome so to speak, he welcomed it, it was a good kind of nervous, and he struggled to conceal it for fear of how she might perceive it.
While he on the one hand looked better from a distance, she was now uncomfortably more striking the closer he got, full, pursed lips, green eyes, and dark hair and her body was womanly. Everybody has their type, or types as the case may be, and it was as if he had designed her for himself. If he had been a caveman he would have clubbed her over the head, tossed her over his shoulder, and carried her back to the cave where they would’ve lived happily ever-after and proceeded to populate the planet, that not being a viable option however, small talk leading somewhere seemed like the next best choice in his entranced state.
A short friendly conversation about the usual stuff, which he would remember nothing of, followed an unnaturally natural path, like dance steps painted on an Arthur Murray studio floor, all the while recognizing he was probably moments away from turning into stammering King George and looking creepy in the process. But he was maintaining, holding his composure, until she touched his hand, not once but twice, and while in a semi-paralytic state he still had the thought processes available to him to recall a
Men’s Health
article about body-language which suggested that if a woman touches you three times… *&?+#*% …his brain scrambled, during an initial meeting, it means she wants to have sex with you.
In that moment, he retreated to instinct, and in what had become his usual
modus operandi
, he told her he had enjoyed meeting her, and wondered if she’d like to continue the conversation another time. Instead of being forward and asking for her phone number, he proceeded to write his email address on a cocktail napkin and give it to her, [email protected], and she in turn, without hesitation gave him hers, touched him on the hand …and then politely excused herself as the posse of girlfriends had now approached, taking a defensive posture, and looking rather annoyed.
He stood, as the place began closing around him, not unconfused, trying to make sense of what might have just happened, and the dilemma it could present. His thoughts were riled up, and his mind congested like a coliseum lobby full of rowdy teenagers waiting for the doors to open to a rave or concert, unable to distinguish one idea from the next. All the while, The
Cowboy Junkies
“
A Common Disaster”
was playing in the background like a siren foretelling of things to come.
.
There are a number of things synonymous with the South and North Carolina, things other regions of the country associate with it, beyond its ugly past. Among a few of the more common are tobacco, the unmistakable accent, NASCAR, College Basketball, and Southern Baptists. It is after all part and parcel of the Bible belt, and she had been born the daughter of a well-known and much respected local Baptist Preacher, Raymond Waters. Rae Anne Waters, the “preacher’s daughter,” …it has a mythical, almost
urban legend
distinction all its own.
As might be expected she had grown up sheltered, in an older established neighborhood in Raleigh, the house itself was the church parsonage, but she would call it home until she left for college just across town. It was an upbringing that would give her a strong foundation, and while she would
lose her religion
, or at least call it into question as she grew into adulthood, she would never lose her sense of family, of responsibility, and the strength it gave her. As a young child the neighborhood children couldn’t pronounce Rae Anne but the resulting effort produced a nickname that would follow her, Raen, (pronounced rain) which as an adult, like most such nicknames, was reserved for her closest and oldest friends …like the girls at the bar.
As an only child she was immensely loved, cherished, and adored. She had been a good student, loving respectful child, a “good girl,” yet not at all entirely by her nature it seemed, but by effort. She had not disappointed her parents growing up, though being the daughter of such a man had its expectations and inhibitions that were contrary to her inclinations. As she matured, it would give her father reason for concern. The boys, like mosquitoes at dusk after a late afternoon summer thunderstorm, came around, all seeking some relief from their adolescent heat wave in the form of Raen Waters. None of which were ever satisfied, but the taunts and teases were abundant… though they were all sure to be careful of the old man. We have all known girls who developed early and yet did not evolve into the women we envisioned or expected, hoped or dreamed, peaking early as they say, but like an Encore Azalea, Rae Anne would bloom twice, …in the spring, and again in the early autumn of her life.
If there is some sort of hierarchy to describes a woman’s desirability, then sexy supercedes beauty, and sultry trumps them both, not necessarily a balance of the two or even a truly high degree of either is required, it is a sexual confidence manifesting itself in an attitude. An intangible, it is difficult to define since the ingredients and recipe are unique to each woman in possession of the quality. Hers suggested a hint of controlled recklessness, voluntary prohibition, words that make no sense together, but considering her childhood, like the schoolmarm analogy, the preacher’s daughter, …they did in regard to describing her, or as he would come to know her, and he would know her more honestly, and what she would be capable of than anyone else in her life, more than she would ever admit.