Chapter 14
Pete
We’ve been talking for more than thirty minutes and have been all over the place, before I realize that I promised her takeout, and I haven’t delivered, sorry about the pun.
“You’re probably starving. You were expecting me to feed you,” I say, getting up from the couch where I had been very comfortable. I really didn’t want to move. Even though I knew it was getting late and both of us had to work early in the morning.
For me, spending time with Zoe was so much fun that I really didn’t care how tired I am going to be tomorrow morning.
“Goodness. I’m fine, although I guess I am hungry. I kind of forgot about the takeout.” Zoe stands with me, although she puts a hand up. “You really don’t have to get anything.”
“No. I promised to feed you. I hope you don’t mind we’ll have to order it and then go get it.” I pause, not wanting to say this but the gentleman in me insists. “You can stay here. I can get it myself.”
I don’t want to miss even a single second of being with her, but thankfully she immediately shakes her head.
“No. We were going to go get it, all along. It’s a nice evening out.”
She’s right, it’s warm and smells like fall. I would rather be outside than in, but being inside just got a whole lot nicer when Zoe’s around.
I grab the takeout menu out of my drawer, and she tells me what she wants. “It’s not what I usually get, because I don’t usually get anything,” she laughs. “But the few times I’ve been there, I really liked it.”
She really has been tight with her money, and I wish there was something I could do to help her. But, I don’t know anything about audiobooks, voice acting, and whatever it is that she’s trying to do. Does she ever think she’ll be making money? That she could make a living? Or is it just something she’s going to do until she is forced to go back home?
I kind of want to talk to her about it, but I don’t want her to think that I’m judging her.
But she’s so easy to talk to. I think that I can ask in such a way that she won’t take offense. So far, she’s not gotten upset about anything I’ve asked.
I know that sometimes people put on a pretty big front, to hide the person they truly are. I’ve tried hard not to do that, although I’m not always completely successful. After all, don’t tell anyone, but I do pick my wedgies in private. But I try not to do it in public. That seems more like a manners thing to me, but... Some people hide their true personalities.
I call in the order, and they tell us it’ll be fifteen minutes.
“We can start walking if you want.”
She nods, smiles, and I think she’s looking forward to walking with me as much as I’m looking forward to doing it with her. I’m really starting to feel like maybe there could be something between us. That’s something else that I’d like to talk to her about. I have never believed in moving super fast. It seems like anymore, people meet, they hook up, the next thing you know they’re spending the night together. I am not that way. I don’t think that Zoe is either, but I could be wrong. If I am, I’m going to be really disappointed. And maybe that’s another reason for moving slow. I want to see what her character is. I think I already know, but character is forged in times of trial, and that’s when it really shows.
“Do you think these two are going to be okay together?” Zoe says as we step into the kitchen.
I looked at her cat, who is still sitting on the table with a lovesick expression on her face as it looks at Trixie.
“I’d say yes, if I was one hundred percent sure that the expression on your cat's face is because it’s in love with my bird, and not because it wants to eat it.”
“Flipper would never eat him,” Zoe says with such confidence that part of me wants to ask her how she truly knows.
Of course, one way of finding out would be to take my bird out of the cage and set it on the table. Then we’ll see what Flipper does. But, it’s not my bird, and I’m not sure how I would explain to the ladies downstairs that I took it out of its cage to see if the cat was in love with it, and the cat ended up eating it, which I kind of figured was going to happen but I wanted to prove it wasn’t going to happen so I could prove somebody else wrong, and... Yeah. Talk about someone who’s unfit to birdsit.
I just can’t see me saying that, so I don’t make that suggestion.
“Flipper, have you found a friend?” Zoe says in an affected voice to her cat.
“Pete and his precious. Pete and his precious.”
We both look at the bird.
Then Zoe looks at me, and I look at her.
There’s no doubt he is saying Pete. And I’m pretty sure my bird knows it is me, but where did precious come from and why is he using it that way?
“I think your bird wants the two of us to get together,” Zoe says with a nervous laugh as she gives her cat one last pat on the head. “You be a good girl while I’m gone,” she says, sweetly.
I’m still a little flabbergasted that my parakeet finally said my name.
Of course, he said a phrase that I had not taught him, but... He came from Leo’s, and Leo always called Nora his love bunny. He said it affectionately, and I’m not sure whether it was because of her, or the bird figured it out from them.
I leave with more questions than answers. But Zoe, while she seemed a little bit nervous in the kitchen, doesn’t seem the slightest bit bothered.
“So that’s the first time the bird has said my name,” I say casually as we both go for the stairs rather than the elevator.
“Funny that he would put it together like that.”
“And while you’re there,” I say, remembering how she joked that my bird wanted us to get together. I’m not sure it was a joke.
“Well they say that parakeets are the smartest bird, although I’m not sure that’s saying a whole lot.”
I think about the chickens on the farm, the ducks and geese, and, “I honestly have to agree with you. I’ve never met a bird that I felt was intelligent. Even Trixie doesn’t seem overly smart. I’ve been trying to get him to say my name for weeks now.”
“Well, I guess that just goes to show that patience pays off,” she says easily, and I’m nod my head and try to let it go.
“I wanted to ask you more about the audiobooks. But I don’t want to offend you.”
She sneaks a glance up at me as I pull the door open for her and she walks outside into the cool evening air. It’s not cold, but it definitely feels like fall is coming. It’s one of my favorite times of year. Of course, I guess I just love every time of year. And I love the changing seasons. I get bored with one thing all the time, and I look forward to the change.
“I promise I won’t get offended, but you’re making me a little nervous. What are you thinking to ask me that you’re afraid it’s going to upset me?” she says with a little laugh.
I love the way she’s easy-going. I also love the way she doesn’t get bothered about things, and I really love the way she talks. The sound of her voice has not stopped affecting me. I just stopped thinking about it, because I can get a little overwhelmed.
“Well, what’s your goal? I mean, I was trying to think how I could help you. Purchase an audiobook?”
“Sure. If you’re interested in listening to sweet romance.” She laughs and rolls her eyes like she knows I wouldn’t be.
She doesn’t understand that I would listen to her read a book about rocks. I don’t correct her, because I really am interested in what she has to say.
“But, I feel like maybe my social media will take off eventually. I’ve been posting pretty regularly on several different places. And, I’ve seen other people get viral videos that bring attention to their brand and increase sales. I even know of one audio narrator who was doing what I’m doing on YouTube — putting up public domain works, and they had a video go viral and before you know it, they’ve got a contract in Hollywood. And it’s for a lot of money. Not gazillions, but enough for them to live comfortably for a while.” She lifts her shoulder. “I don’t know where I’ll go from there. I’ve heard of people using their voices for different things, but the landscape is changing, and... I just really love what I do. I guess I don’t care if I make gazillions of dollars, I just want to make enough to live on, you know?”
I understand that. “That’s how I feel about being a cop. I know I’m never going to be rich, but that’s not really my goal. I want to be a policeman. I always have, and as long as I can make a living at it, that’s what I’m going to do. I don’t expect to ever get rich doing it.”
I’ve thought a little bit about what it would be like whenever I get older. After all, by the time I’m in my late fifties and sixties, am I going to be able to chase criminals around the street? I don’t want to have to sit in an office and push papers, even at that age. But, when I can no longer do the job... They do offer early retirement, and I suppose that’s an option.
“Is there anything specific that I can do?” I ask, knowing that I’d already said I wanted to do something, and she hasn’t offered anything. Does she not want me to help her?
“I guess just getting out the word. If you know anyone who’s interested in some of the old public domain works. The more people I can get coming to my channels the more it builds. I don’t know if this is the right way to explain the algorithm, but I look at it like every little view feeds it, and if you can keep feeding it before it gets hungry again, it starts to push out my videos on its own. And, it rewards consistency, so if I have a thousand people come in one day, and then I have zero people coming the next day, it’s not going to catch the wind, if that makes sense.”
“So you need one hundred people every day rather than a thousand people in one day?”
“Yeah. Or two hundred people and for five days, and that will help lift it up. But, it has to show sustained growth, sustained interest. And, sometimes things break at the right time, and sometimes they don’t. So a lot of it is timing.”
I think I understand. “What’s happening in popular culture affects what goes on your channel?”
“Yeah. Say I release the Scarlet Pimpernel, and people aren’t interested in it, but then a Hollywood remake comes out starring big name actors and actresses that bring attention to that title and suddenly everybody are all things Scarlet Pimpernel, and my channel starts getting attention or at least that video does. And it gets up and up and starts going viral.”
“And how do you make money on that?” I ask.
“It’s from the ads. Although I get paid for views on some socials - when I get enough, they can monetize me, but for most, it’s about the ads. If someone clicks on the ad on the video, then I get money. Not a lot per click, but the clicks add up, when you’re getting lots of views. Or at least that’s what I understand. Right now, like I said, I’m getting grocery money from it. But that’s really it.”
“Every time I watch one of your videos, I should click on the ad?”
She laughs. “Well, I guess they would say yes, except then the advertisers end up paying for ads that don’t make them money. Because the advertisers pay that money. And if you don’t buy anything from them, then they might say they don’t want to have their ad on my channel or on my video anymore, or they might stop advertising altogether, if it just becomes too expensive.”
“I see. So, clicking on an ad is one thing, but I probably shouldn’t do it a whole lot if I’m not really interested.”
“Yeah. I think that they try to show ads that people would be interested in, but I’m not really sure how that works since I don’t run ads myself.”
“It makes sense that interest would drive them.”
I don’t understand it completely. And I’m not sure how I can figure it out. This doesn’t seem to be common information, although an Internet search usually can turn up information on pretty much anything.
We’ve reached the takeout joint, and I open the door. She smiles at me and murmurs a thank you.
For some reason, that makes me wonder if she’ll always thank me when I open the door for her. I’ve seen some couples that are so comfortable with each other, or maybe a better way to explain it is they’ve been with each other so long that they start to take each other for granted, the man opens the door and the woman just acts like it’s her right to walk in. And I suppose conversely, the woman cooks a meal, and the man acts like it’s his right to eat it, and neither one of them thank the other for what they do or appreciate them.
Maybe saying thank you is just too much of a pain after you’ve been married for a long time, but in my view, it’s the little things that keep a marriage from becoming something where the couple takes each other for granted.
I pay for the food, and she picks it up, but I give her a look and hold out my hand.
“What? You don’t think I’m capable of carrying it?”
“I feel like it’s my job,” I say, and I sound a little hesitant. I feel like the man is supposed to be the protector and the provider, and if he can do it, then he should take care of the woman who’s with him.
There might come a day when I can’t pick up the takeout bag, and I might not be able to carry it the whole way home, and then maybe I will need help and we would have to do it together, but until then, it’s not that I don’t think that she can, is that I feel that I should. How do I explain?
But I don’t have to. She smiles and hands it to me, and I open the door and we walk out.
“Thanks for not fighting me about that,” I say, thinking that maybe I should just leave well enough alone. Some women seem to be a little touchy about it.
“I guess I’ve been brought up to think that women are just as good as men.”
“I think they are.”
She glances at me, but there’s no surprise in her eyes.
“I think they are too. What I was saying was...in order for us to show that we’re just as good as men, we can’t allow men to do the little things that are common courtesy. But I know you offered, not because I can’t do it, but because it’s a show of courtesy and respect to have someone else do it for you.”
“Yeah. That’s a better way of explaining what I was thinking.”
“I think we’re losing that in our country. That women have been so loud and so vocal and so brash about making sure that we get our place in life, that we kind of browbeat men over the head, and have cornered them, where they’re afraid to do anything for fear of offending us, and it’s to our detriment, because we’ve pretty much taught men that they can’t act like men, or we’ll get upset.”
“Men and women are different. Men act differently, and I think the women have taken it to the extreme where they want men to act like women instead of men acting like men and thinking like men. Doing things like men, and treating them like they're special and different, rather than being all one unisex.”
“Yes. That’s what I was thinking.”
I’m kind of pleased that we agree on this. I don’t hate women, and I don’t resent them for what they’ve done. But I do think that sometimes you get on a bandwagon, and you beat your drum so hard that you end up forgetting what you were trying to do in the first place. I also think that once you start playing victim, it’s hard to realize that you’re not the victim anymore. Those are just my opinions though.
I enjoy walking beside her and I think about taking her hand. I want to. It’s right there. I’ve got the bag on my right side, and she’s walking on my left. It would be easy, but... I just thought about how I didn’t want to move too fast, but I did want to...maybe establish the idea that I’m interested in her?
Except, she’s pretty much told me that she’s focused on getting her career off the ground, and I am going to be on call almost constantly for the next month. I won’t have a single day off. Other than the middle of the day while Baxley’s at school.
Is this really a good time to be working on a relationship?