Lost Echoes

32

It couldn’t have gone any better, that date. Talia, she looked ravishing in just blue jeans, a simple shirt, and sandals. Way her body filled those clothes, it was if she were liquid that had been poured into them and solidified. She was tall, dark, lean, but not skinny like so many women these days, and she was sensual in a kind of I-would-fuck-you-to-death-then-suck-the-marrow-from-your-bones kind of way.

Harry stopped to pick her up on campus, where they agreed to meet. She looked at his car, which he had detailed. Eighty-five bucks at Downtown Auto Shine and Repair, so the Cheetos under the seat, Snickers wrappers would be gotten rid of, all the dirt on the floor mats. And when he got out, opened the door, invited her into his chariot, she asked if he kept the car because it was some kind of classic or because of sentimentality, and he said, “Oh, no, not that. It’s all I got. I’m the classic, and I’m not that sentimental.”

She laughed at that and they went to dinner. It was a good dinner at Dineros, though he ate nervously, hoping they wouldn’t surpass the money he had in his pocket, though Tad, good old Tad, had given him another twenty, just to help.

They ate and went to the movie. In the movie they held hands, and afterward, at the Java Palace, they talked and drank too much coffee.

Talia had been all over the world, shopped in some pretty fancy places, spent a lot of Daddy’s money, and yet she seemed really interested when he told her about his life, about coming from a good but poor family, about his mom, and how he was going to visit her soon, and needed to.

Not once, not even in a passing thought, did he worry about his curse.

He didn’t mention it either. Didn’t tell her. Wasn’t any reason to.

What would it matter?

He was getting it under control.

No more worries.

Things were cool.

Life was full.