11. Chapter 11 #2
“That would be the best fucking thing in the world! Do you know what session musicians you’d hire?
Would you get the old group back together?
Would it be one show, or a tour? Would there be an album?
” Air rushed in and out of my widened nostrils as I struggled to breathe through my utter joy and excitement.
“Way too early for that. All a pipe dream at the moment…” He shifted on his heels.
“Well, for the moment, I will store that knowledge in the back of my brain for a rainy day when I need a pick-me-up.” Uncontrollable glee filled my body as I grinned like a maniac.
“I truly wonder what else you keep stored in that head.”
Heat radiated from my cheeks at his little dig.
Wouldn’t you like to know?
My nose crinkled as I looked at a pair of lily-white girls in Victorian garb playing on a cobbled street. I wondered who the famous Victorian painters of color were. Something to research later.
“Did you know I’ve seen every one of your official live concert releases? Oh, God, why did I say that?!”
“You’re telling me the girl who camped outside my place in the snow has seen all my live shows? Shocking. Truly shocking.”
“I don’t have to deal with this, but I’m going to.
He kept smiling. “Time for another question. I’m sure your parents thought your interest in a disappeared rockstar was a bit weird. Did your parents ever encourage you to try more sensible hobbies, like Girl Scouts?”
“Not parents. Just dad.”
I never knew how to bring up the fact that I murdered my mother, so I usually let conversation move past it naturally. Jaw clenched, I stared ahead at a painting of rolling Italian hills. After a beat, Summoner cleared his throat. He picked up on the awkward discomfort radiating from me.
“… Sorry. Let’s change gears. Besides getting pissed, what do you and your friends like to do for fun?”
I cringed as the memory of my drunken visit washed over me.
“… Uh, stupid shit, really. We do a lot of gaming. We watch TV and movies together, stuff like that.”
“Gaming?”
“Yeah, my best friend Jordan is really into creating his own games. I’m sadly one of his testers. It’s mostly tabletop stuff. Like Dungeons and Dragons.”
“Bunch of nerds.”
“Totally. I hated being called that when I was younger, but now I wear the badge with pride.”
“How nerdy are we talking?”
“Comics, cartoons, true crime, record collecting, books, and tabletop RPGs are the main ones. What about you?”
“I, too, love getting lost in a good book. Collecting old jazz records. Exercising my brain with chess, crossword puzzles, sudoku and the like.”
He was so ordinary sometimes. We turned a corner and stepped into a neighboring room in the exhibit.
“Oh, wow, look at her ass!” I exclaimed in awe.
Summoner stopped at my rude exclamation. We stood in front of a painting of a man embracing and locking lips with a statue.
“I wished my ass looked like that. If it did, guys would write rap songs about it,” I muttered.
I noticed the slight wobble at the edge of Summoner’s lips, but he didn’t comment. “She’s sculpted out of marble to be the perfect woman.”
“Who is she?”
“Galatea. The man embracing her is Pygmalion. And if you look just there—” He pointed— “there’s the goddess Venus about to shoot Galatea with an arrow and bring her to life.”
“Wow.”
I swallowed and attempted to dislodge the lump that had suddenly appeared in my throat.
The passion Pygmalion had for his creation was obvious.
Overwhelming lust and desire for the women he had molded for himself.
Was such a love even possible? Or was such a thought a relic best stored away with all the other Greek myths?
“A man who created love of perfection in his mind’s eye. A myth, if I’ve ever heard one” he mused.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because to be human is to be imperfect. But there is so much beauty in those imperfections. A scraped knee. An out-of-place hair. A lopsided curl. Everything in the world can be beautiful.”
“…Even me…?” The words scratched my throat raw as they escaped my mouth.
It was a stupid fucking question to ask of someone I knew wasn’t attracted to me. A foolish slip of the tongue.
Summoner’s hand brushed against mine. The hairs on my arm rose to attention as I stared intently at Pygmalion and Galatea. The deep, echoing thud of my heartbeat filled my ears. It was so loud I worried he could hear it. In an instant, my body was on high alert.
Again, his fingertips brushed against the hand at my side. I couldn’t move. The vines of lust had extended from Pygmalion and wrapped around my ankles. I was a willing hostage.
Again, Summoner’s fingertips grazed my hand.
My breathing hitched. He inched his fingers over mine and looped them together.
Together. The warm, textured ridges on his deeply calloused thumb caressed the peaks and valleys across my knuckles.
My knees wobbled. Anxious excitement filled my stomach and bloomed in a delightfully violent explosion in my chest.
There was a sense of wonderment at having Summoner’s intentional touch on my body. It frightened me and turned me on all at once. I wanted to die, yet I never felt so alive. An oddity of back-and-forth thoughts that I couldn’t make sense of.
“Poppy…”
Whenever Summoner said my name, it was a fucking melody.
But now it was a sermon. A 3-act play of lust and longing acted out in the pulpit of my mind.
Sharp hues of yellow and gold detonated in colorful bursts.
A song played with the volume all the way up.
Bass rattled the pews with glorious fear.
I stood in the middle of it all. I was a sinner.
A dirty sinner in need of devotion. I needed saving. I needed him.
“Sums!” a voice called out.
Our bubble shattered. Summoner dropped my hand and quickly took a step away from me as Vinny walked into the exhibit. I stirred from my trance-like state as my flames faded away.
What was on his lips?
What was he going to say?!
Not knowing killed me. I died a thousand deaths as we headed back to the loading dock. Vinny animatedly chatted with Summoner, their words noise in my ears. Vinny grinned wildly as we shook hands again. I think I mumbled something resembling a thank-you. Honestly, I couldn’t tell.
I slumped in the backseat and sighed. Moore put away his book and started up the car. After a long embrace, Summoner waved again before climbing into the car.
Once he settled in his seat, he breathed, “Again, I’m sorry about today, Poppy.”
I watched out of the corner of my eye as he took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.
“I know.”