There was kindness there.
“S-sorry,” I said apologizing and looking down. “I took a while.”
The giant man pushed past me with something that sounded like “S’alright!” Then he closed the door behind him.
I was left out in the hallway feeling completely spent. It was as if I’d run a mile or two — the adrenaline was still surging through me.
Carefully, I made sure that the cover of the BDSM book was obscured. Then I craned my head around to make sure the coast was clear.
I expected there to be friends of my overprotective mother lurking around; they tended to appear around me whenever I left the house to do errands.
Peeking left and right, I scanned the area for anyone that looked like they were on the hunt for me — on the hunt for any shred of gossip that they could share with the other vain housewives at their next PTA meeting.
There were two middle-aged women in my view: One was studying the covers on a magazine rack, the other one was sitting in the nearby cafe, sipping on a creamy iced latte and scrolling through her phone.
Both of them looked like carbon copies of all of my mom’s friends: A blonde bob, a perfect manicure, and a youthful face with a wrinkled neck.
I knew they were spies. They had to be. If they weren’t I wasn’t willing to take the risk.
I didn’t have that much money in my wallet, but I knew that I had to get this book. I needed some kind of release; some kind of escape from the prison of suburbia I was living in.
“Luke!” Chimed a high-pitched voice from my left.
I stopped in my tracks. I knew she would have had to have recognized me: My mother was the principal of the school district, and had her fingers in every single parent organization in this town.
I turned to see Mrs. Carr beckoning to me from her seat in the cafe, her eyes crinkling up at the corners as a dazzling white smile bloomed on her face.
Struggling to conceal the cover of the book against me, I crossed the store and went over to her, lingering next to her table.
Mrs. Carr stood up and gave me a huge hug as if I was a second son to her. She smelled like she took a bath in an overly-expensive perfume.
“H-hey Mrs. Carr…” I said, feeling the anxiety within me begin to slowly simmer.
Would she tell my mother that she’d seen me here? Was there any way she was able to glimpse the book I was concealing in my arms?
Worst case scenario, she would tell my mother that she’d seen it.
If she’d seen it.
“Luke, I haven’t seen you in ages! How have you been? What’s going on?”
I gave her some standard, generic answers, trying to seem genial. If any word of anything interesting ever got around in this clique, I could be sure that it would be shared with my mother within minutes. Letting her prattle on for a few more seconds about her sons and how much more successful they were than I was, I nodded and bid her goodbye.
Even though I knew that she was talking to me in that way to make me feel inadequate so that she could get a one-up on my mother and our family, I still couldn’t help but fall into her trap.
I felt like I wasn’t enough. And my mother, behind closed doors and away from the prying eyes of our gossipy small community, made me feel that way too.
When I got in line to check out, since I was still coming down from the wave of anxiety that was welling up within me from when I’d run into Mrs. Carr, I was acutely aware of my surroundings. And that’s one of the reasons why I noticed that guy from the bathroom get in line behind me.
We pretended not to notice each other, of course.
However, as I waited in line and inched forward, looking like I was lost in thought, I was really paying attention to the giant behind me. It was like I could sense him in my space, even though I couldn’t see him. It was like my skin was vibrating with this static of this stranger being close.
Unlike when I had my anxiety attacks, this wasn’t an unpleasant tingling sensation. This was something good; something that felt comfortable and safe.
Making it seem like I was glancing at the shelf of colorful candy bars next to me, I stole a look at this stranger.
He quickly looked away.
Was he… was he staring at me? Did he find me as odd as I found him?
Now that I got a closer look at him, I got this distinct sense that this stranger didn’t belong here. This town was full of the image of perfection: Suburban moms resigned themselves to lives of leisure, shipping their kids off to soccer practice and spending their days inside their fortresses standing tall in these perfect, predictable little subdivisions. Their husbands would go to work in the nearby city all day and come home only when the daylight had waned. Lawns were manicured, bills were paid on time, and everybody had a Mercedes or a BMW or an Audi in their driveway. The conversation at the local bar was always about boats or stocks or how the market was doing. It was rare that something out of the ordinary ever happened here.
But this stranger behind me was anything but ordinary. First of all, he simply seemed too tall to be allowed. Secondly, he had a beard that looked like it was wild as it took over his face. Thirdly, he had this air about him that came across like he didn’t have an agenda, which was in stark contrast to the usual type of person that lived in this town.
The curiosity intensified within me, which made it feel like the static across my skin was increasing. I
