Us & Then

2010 Suite21men

This is a work of fiction. All characters are conceived in my mind and were born and raised in the bits and bytes on my computer.

. If you know a place like Gerty's, let me know. I want to check it out.

For Celeste...

Introduction:

In looking at my finances, I realize I no longer need to work to survive in the modest style I am accustomed to. As I am only 50, I feel blessed with early retirement and am able to focus on projects around the house and my music. Maybe six months after I quit my job (and my electronics career) I notice a request from a non-profit looking for volunteer to help in the maintenance aspects of the facility. I meet the people who were running Gerty's at the time and it looks like a good fit for me.

I have to tell you about Gerty's. It's such a cool place. My band recorded some demos there a while back. Gerty's was named after Gertrude Svenskin. You may have seen her name in film, or TV credits as music director, sound designer, maybe even credited as a writer on a bunch of songs from the olden days. She also owned a record label. Well, many years ago before all that, she went to The University in our town. She graduated and became very wealthy during her years. Before she died about twenty-five years ago, she endowed a large sum of money to The University to facilitate the vision she had. After meetings, discussions, and other such nonsense that goes along with decision-making, The University decided that it would be best to spin the whole concept off as a non-profit. The University would pay for the maintenance of the building and equipment, and Gerty's would pay the other expenses with donations, studio fees, concerts, hall rentals, and of course, alcohol sales. Once all the details were fleshed out including the 501c3 status, a campus was built on prime real estate that Gerty donated and boom, Gerty's was born! I wasn't there at the beginning, but from what I have read it was a success from the start. Multiple studios to record music in. Film editing booths and screening rooms. Dance studios. If you pays your money and become a Gerty's studio artist, you have twenty-four seven access to those studios. Two, count em, two concert halls. 'Satie's Stage', named after the composer Erik Satie, is a 250 seat auditorium for enjoying the likes of a singer/songwriter, a classical music performance, opera, theater, film, ballet and such. The other hall, 'The Roadhouse' has a sign posted from the fire department saying 'Max Capacity 175'. It exuded the ambience of a rock & roll joint. While Satie's Stage had permanent seating, orchestra pit, etc, The Roadhouse was designed to be more flexible. It's able to accommodate theatre in the round, circuses, rock & roll and other dance bands, weddings, receptions, what have you. Gerty's even maintains a small art gallery and gift shop. Using her endowment, The University also hired faculty and created a curriculum focusing on the business and art of music, film, dance and theater, and encourages their students to use the facilities at Gerty's. Oh! I could go on about Gerty's, but I won't. Ms. Svenskin endowed a LOT of money.

Gerty, herself, was an amazing woman. The more I find out about her, the more I say "Wow!". She understood the foibles of artists and was able to envision an environment to nurture their talent. I can't tell you how floored I am when I find out she even created a special fund to take care of the tendency that some artists have to destroy equipment. The police blotter lists three times in Gerty's history where they had to take action because of some artist's craziness. I can tell you, though, before Gerty's, the main economy in our city was The University. Somehow, because of her vision and the decisions of The University twenty-five years ago, our village has become a cultural mecca and a tourist destination. Two classical orchestras find work here along with regular opera performances. I haven't been able to count all the art galleries and recording studios that have popped up and thrived since Gerty's opened. There are also an extraordinary amount of bars that feature live music. They are all usually packed Friday and Saturday nights. Gertrude's vision has done wonders for our community which has grown by a couple of hundred thousand since Gerty's opened.

I'm looking forward to the challenges of taking care of the campus four hours a week, having a gift/talent/curse of being able to fix things. I have been known to call myself a 'Jack of most trades, Master of some'. Who am I? Jack is my name. Still in love with the woman I met and fell in love with and 'tied the knot' with after a wild six-month courtship when I was 29. I am in ok shape for my age having that 'middle age paunch' that comes from too much beer, too much nicotine and not enough actividad. I don't have the endurance that I had when I was 30, but I still cut and split my firewood and carry my kegs. Sarah, my wife, calls me belly fat love handles. I call my fifteen pounds an annoyance but I still don't change my habits. The only medication I take is stuff for glaucoma. No, I have no need of Viagra, Cialis, or any other ED drugs. My plumbing still works just fine, thank you. Sometimes too fine.

In spending my time at Gerty's, I expand my passion for the ideas and concepts of that organization and of course, Gerty, herself. Gerty's seems to like me also, as the plaques on my wall can attest. After six years of volunteering about four hours a week, sometimes more, I am offered a staff position of twenty hours a week at close to minimum wage. Enjoying my time there, I readily accept. It was about six months into my paid position when I see her. I am on the roof of one of the campus buildings working on the HVAC systems or something, and I look down and see this beautiful young woman talking to the Executive Director outside one of the entrances. I am captivated. Now, mind you, this particular center attracted all sorts of pretty girls to the various going's on. All ages, all shapes, all beautiful. Must be because of who Gerty was and what she stood for. When I worked in electronics, the joke was that you could have all the solder you could eat. To be able to feast on all this beauty is a much better fringe benefit. But this gal! All I know is that she makes my heart a flutter. With no idea why she is there—musician, dancer, artist, new volunteer, patron or just a visitor—and being in relative obscurity about one hundred-fifty feet away up on the roof, I allow my eyes to drink in this vision not knowing whether I would ever see her again. My eyes are transfixed a whole three minutes until they go inside. I continue on with what I am doing and thank Ms. Fate for allowing me that brief pleasure. Now, a hundred-fifty feet is a long way away to see someone in very much detail. I mean, I ain't got no binoks with me but I could see enough that I wanted to keep seeing.

Meeting:

Well, it turns out that she is a new sales person who focuses on scheduling the booking of the halls for weddings, concerts and what have you. I finally get introduced to her. Celeste! Somehow fits with the stars in my eyes whenever I see her. Some say you can't predict the future. I know it's going to be a good day when, upon arriving Gerty's, I see her car in the parking lot. I find out later she has roots in Montreal and has dual Canadian/USA citizenship. I always have been partial to Canadian women after having met a few a while on business in that country a few years back. They always seem 'softer' to me with that Princess aspect, I guess. With my age and marital status, I try to hide the feelings I have for her. You know. Love, lust, that sort of thing. Only 'bothering' her when it was necessary in the course of business and keeping to the point of the conversation. Always trying to make her laugh, though. One day she is moping around, having a bad day, I notice and say something. It is enough to break her out of her funk for the rest of the day. I feel better the rest of that day myself, loping around with a funny feeling. There are times I have difficultly maintaining my professional persona. Especially when Celeste smiles at me, which is, like, every day we see each other. And every time she does, I melt into a puddle of to be mopped up and dumped down the sink. Can you say jelly?

The months go on. I hear things she says around me. Talking to a patron. 'Jack keeps things goin' 'round here.' Introducing me to a friend of hers. 'This is Jack. He is the best!' Getting an email from her. 'Thank you! Thank you so much! You are wonderful as always!' Her speaking to me. 'I don't know what I would do without you. You are wonderful, Jack!' One day, I am standing outside taking a smoke break. Celeste comes out of one of the buildings, sees me and starts heading in my direction. I guess I live in quite the fantasy world. As she is approaching me, I'm envisioning she is my lover and hasn't seen me for a while and is rushing to hug, kiss, embrace me telling me how much she missed me and how much she loves me. If she had stepped that one more step, my fantasy would have taken over and I would have wrapped my arms around her in ecstasy, forgetting about my wife, life, and everything else. Basking in this beautiful woman!

One gets those signals and every time I see her, Mr. Green comes up to me in his white polyester suit, hair slicked back, brown drink with ice cubes in on hand and a cigarette in the other. He drapes his cigarette wielding arm over my shoulder and breathes his whiskey laden breath.

"Go! Go man, go! She likes you. You got the hots for her. We are talking major attraction here! What are you waiting for? You're a fool to pass this up."

At the same time, Ms. Yellow, looking like a high school librarian, wags her finger at me.

"Hey, old man. Who do you think you are? You're just color blind. That is not a green light. She is just being friendly and doesn't feel what you feel she is feeling. You are not rich, so you can't be her sugar daddy. Hell, you have owned both your Jeep and motorcycle longer than she has been on this planet!"

Then Mrs. Red pops in my vision. Oddly enough, she looks somewhat like my wife.

"What are you thinking about, you old fool? You are happily married. Very much in love with your wife. There is no way you can have another woman in your life. It's not as if you can use those old clichés for an excuse. (Yeah, you know what I am talking about—Wife doesn't want sex anymore; you have grown apart and have different interests and friends; you two are only together for the sake of the kids; wife had an affair; Blah, blah, blah.)"

She morphs into a judge.

"This is a business. Sexual harassment charges apply. So forget about it, Bub."

Ah. If only it is that easy. Just to be able to flick a knob and poof, feelings turn off like a light bulb. Don't have to worry or think 'bout her no more. No siree! But then again, there is that heat from the million watts of halogen bulbs that has to dissipate.

I tell you. I hear some men are breast men. Some are leg men. Some are ass men. Some are feet men. Some are whatever men. What turns me on to no end is the eyes. I could say that I am an eye am eye mon. With the eyes you can see what they are feeling. You know. Whether they think you are an asshole or a gift for the Goddess. You can also tell if she is an asshole or a Goddess. As I have heard, the eyes are called the windows to the soul. Celeste's eyes have me hooked the first time I gaze in them. I see an angelic Goddess lovingly peering at me in those beautiful soft windows. Now, the eyes are only part of a woman, albeit a big part in my mind. I tell you what, Celeste has all the other parts right also.

Life goes on at Gerty's, and after about two years of basking in the glory of working with Celeste, various difficulties concerning my job are starting to affect me. Giving me a bad attitude. Not good. Very bad. (Well, the various part is mostly related to one person who will not mentioned in this story other than now.) Suffice to say, to maintain my sanity, and to avoid being escorted off the premises, I decide to take a hiatus or sabbatical, as you will, from my position. I inform my boss, Cheryl, and I figure that was that with my sort of relationship with Celeste. Mainly thinking of those yellow and red lights though a green would crop into my feelings every so often. Pleasant thoughts...

Now, of course, Celeste isn't the only person at Gerty's. Nor the only woman I worked with. There is Diane, Hazel, Lyn, Jennifer, Amanda and Nicole and a bunch more I never really met. All professional. All happy and friendly. All beautiful! Steve and Bill and a couple other guys also work there. Nice fellows. As I left on short notice, I feel the need to write a mass mailing telling them how much I enjoyed working with them and wishing them well. I think they are all great people. Alas, I cannot find the words I want to say to express my appreciation of them—especially Celeste. The root of my letter writing difficulty. I want to tell her how much she means to me without letting the others know. Just about an impossible task. Maybe, I should write each of them a personal note, but the words are only written in my mind and only to Celeste. So, as it happens, to most of Gerty's, I just disappear, sorta drop off the face of the earth as they say. I get an email that Cheryl forwarded to me. It's from Hazel asking me to help her with some aspect of campus. I reply and tell her any time. I never hear back from her.

Event:

Time marches on. About a month or so after I gave my notice, Gerty's is having an concert event. Now, I haven't told you about the concert events Gerty's puts on about every two months or so. Gerty, in her infinite wisdom, had set it up so each event would have a theme. Gerty's would challenge the all the studio artists to create a work based on that theme and present it at the event. The University also challenged their students to create a piece of work. So, you would get music, film, dance and theater all focused on that one thing. It would last the whole day into the late evening. The theater, dance and musical performances were recorded and then shown along with the films during the next two months. Like I said, Gerty's is a cool place. This particular theme is called 'Sex and Relationships'. When Sarah and I get there, my chin suffers bruises as it hits the floor. Now, mind you, I have been to many Gerty's concert events but never have I seen the amount of crowds that I see this day. People are everywhere. Hundreds of them. Obviously, for Gerty's, this event is a success. Can't figure out why, though.

I, of course, have many people to talk to. As I hadn't been there in a month or so, there was catching up to do on my part with the Gerty's community. Talking to the studio artists about this and that. Telling the staff what I am doing. That sort of stuff. Then I see her! She is talking to one of the volunteers when she looks up and sees me. I, maintaining my previous professional persona, greet her. To my surprise and delight, she hugs me telling me how glad she is to see me. I am taken aback. We had never hugged before. Well, there was that one time when my band volunteered for a fundraiser for Gerty' a while back. I initiated that hug thinking about the time Celeste referred to the staff at Gerty's as family. This embrace is different though in a way that I don't realize till later. She speaks.

"It's good to see you. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

"I'm leaving Gerty's."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"Croc O' Dial Records They offered me a position there. It pays a lot more and I've accepted their offer."

"Have you met Helen yet?" I know the label. My band is in negotiations with Helen for a recording contract.

"No. I have heard of her though. I'll be working with Crystal."

"I haven't met her yet"

Then she gets pulled away, pressured to experience an auditory stimulation that is part of the entertainment at the event. I sigh looking at her smiling during this. Oh, she is so beautiful. I still see her face etched in my mind. And, I feel so proud for her. Croc O' Dial is well respected in the music industry. Founded in our community about a year after Gerty's opened, Croc O' Dial's albums have been nominated fifteen times for a Grammy and ended up winning seven of them. My heart leaps at the possibility of working with her but of course that hinges on my talks with Helen. I figure it best if I move on and let her enjoy the moment with her friends. I'll just ignore any implications that she has the hots for me. Once again, I'm focusing on my inadequacies—age, lifestyle, oh yeah, don't forget, married to a woman I love, all the while hurting with desire for Celeste.

I find Sarah, enjoying one of the shows for a while. Very entertaining stuff. Our drinks end up being empty and I, being the thirsty dude that I am, head off to the bar to satiate my whistle and to pick up a beverage for my wife. Both Celeste and Hazel are at the bar. Hazel is in a 'happy mood' slurring her words. No, I had never seen her that buzzed.

"Heys shack. Washup? Good to she ya. Wash your edresh?"

"Hi, Hazel. I thought you had it. Here, I'll write it down."

Celeste looks at me as though she has been slapped.

"You emailed her and not me? When I found out you left, I sent a note to you. You never answered! I couldn't help but cry when you left without telling me."

"That email address got disconnected for some reason about a week before I quit. You can reach me here."

I am trembling as I scribble my info down and give it to her and Hazel. Oh, man! This woman, whom I fell in love with, want only the best for and desire her happiness, is sad because of me. I fucked up. Once again: Not good. Very bad. I attempt to explain the situation, but all of a sudden I feel the conversation with Celeste is about the accusations that I am cheating on her and I am just blabbing lame excuses. Now, I remind you, I haven't had any physical/intimate contact with Celeste. Haven't even kissed her. Just the two hugs. Still, I feel as though I broke her heart in some fashion. It is still awful/amazing/depressing the way her feelings went from 'Gee, I like you' to 'Eww. what an terrible person you are' in a space of less than a minute.

She gets called away again. I end up getting our drinks and go back to the show and sit with my wife. I am in turmoil now. Never in my mind do I want to hurt Celeste. I want just the opposite. I guess I watch the show for a while but I'm not paying much attention to it. Nicotine fits happen and I need to go satisfy my urge. Of course, one has to leave the building to get their fix and as I walk out the door, I hear Celeste say, "I love you."

I am walking out the door and for some reason unbeknownst to me I say, "I'm not leaving. I'll be back." I am puffing on my fix when all of a sudden it hits me. She said she loves me. I tell you, I must be kind of dense. If I was in my right (wrong) mind, I would turned around that instant when she said that and ask her to take a walk with me. In the eight years I had been there, I knew all the out of the way places to go. Places where we could 'talk' to each other in private. But no, I don't. I stand outside and smoking my cigarette. Coming back inside, I don't see her and rejoin my wife for the end of the show. In leaving, I furtively look for her (with Sarah standing by my side) to say "See ya later" but she has disappeared. Now, I am really charged up. Celeste said she loved me. Wait a minute. My ears are old. Did I hear 'I love you' or was it 'I loved you' as in I loved you before but now I don't.

Aftermath:

It feels the latter I must say. Those few words we exchanged are etched in my brain. Remembering that night brings me two feelings. One takes me to a place where Celeste and I have been intimate and then break up because of something I did or didn't do. It's a weird feeling; this woman I desire is telling me she 'hates' me, but in my mind, just because she is talking to me, I feel good about it. What is that all about? Probably it stems from her beauty and her voice and the way she forms her words. I have never been 'dumped' is such a glorious fashion. The other is based in reality where I lose this woman out of my life.