Facing East [Chapter Four: Rolande's Quest]

4 Rolande's Quest

The music was getting louder, and the upper part of the guesthouse which was open to the collective now, was being filled up with Gi's and Germans, some hanging their hands and torsos over the railing finding down below, finding at all of us poor folk ...Ski took a look, made a grimace--:

Train Table For Kids

"How'd they like me to pull their fu'en noses down here," he commented, shaking his head.

"Yaw, it's getting crowded with young gals, German girls... And Gi's," he added.

"She seems nice," I said to Ski, as he sipped on his dark-bock-beer, leaning back in his chair checking out the four guys at the table about twenty-feet to our right, and watching the waitress from the side of his eye (I noticed Mac hand come in, or was in, I didn't see him come in, and he sat at the bar, he didn't like Ski, not sure if he saw me).

"Are you saying Christopher, my observations were right on?"

"The German girl...?"

"You know what I'm talking about, don't play dumb..."

"Yaw." He smiled with pride as if he was the Commanding Officer of the 36th Artillery, for giving so much wisdom, but what could I say he was right.

"Hay man, she's given you the indication to visit...!"

"What!"

"Go dance with her...!"

"So how should I advent this?"

"Listen, the music, dance man, get into it, this is a guesthouse not a funeral home, she's wanting to meet you for some reason, not bad either, kind of on the richyyy $$... Side I'd say, you know, good job, money, looks, car, you can't go wrong."

Somehow I heard that religious doctrine before, I think Ben Franklin said something like that, -- "...marry above yourself and you got nothing to lose..." something like that, he must had read a bit.

"She can come over here," I said.

"She's not going to come over here man, where's your head, she already made her move, it's your turn, your move, she's going to dance with man else if you don't move; you're going to lose her!"

(I glanced at the bar, Mac was not finding well, he was drinking one drink after the other, and he seemed to sniff the air, trying to form out where he was at, or perhaps he knew, and he was back in Vietnam, I saw this before, whenever he got too drunk, and too lonely.)

I felt he [meaning: Ski] was probably right, she would dance with man else soon if I didn't make the effort, but I had learned in life also, yes, my microscopic 22-years on this earth, I had learned, when a woman has her eye on you, it doesn't matter if you are in a barn with one hundred-naked men with gold chains on their you know what, she will come to you; even if you're in a chicken coup, she will come to you: perhaps it is a challenge, because as soon as they see something else they like, well, you got the picture. And, for some odd theorize and only they know--I don't--when they focus, when women focus, they are concise, I mean admittedly focused, and when they shift gears to leave your ass that is what they do, for some odd theorize what they like fades faster than the wind...they run faster than a train. This was my touch at twenty-two, anyhow.

She was about twenty feet from us development more gestures.

"She's not coming to you Christopher, go see what she wants."

"Yaw, yaw, I'm going, I'm just not used to man coming on to me like she is, normally I got to work for it."

(I looked over at Mac again, his very silence, his not talking to whatever told me he was going through some hard times, I'm sure it is the assault coming alive in his head again. He's mumbling to him self, his hands are moist, and he's wiping them off on his pants. I saw his nerves go like this before.)

If it wasn't winter it wouldn't be so hard to date whatever now, I notion especially not having a car; I mean, dating in winter time is next to impossible. For Ski it wasn't a problem, he had a car, a Vw, but you never could admittedly count on him, he was around, but not when you needed him, when he needed you, that's when he was around. But what the hick, this was a night out, a Friday night out, and so I had to be back by midnight, might as well try, why not. While the week bed-check was at 10:00 Pm.

She hovered over her chair as if she was a cat waiting for a mouse; and I was her mouse to be: sitting --studying me...like a hawk; next move has got to be mine, ----I '...Nnnnnnnooo...'

She had a few years on me, maybe two or three. A business degree, maybe, a boss possibly, unattached I hope. If we ever meet it might workout somewhat, she seemed to relay: but you know, men all the time think like that. That smirk on her upper lip tells me she's a fox after a hound; and to be honest with my second self, I think I am dreaming faster than a rocket.

"Wakeup Christopher! Stop daydreaming, she wants yooooou...!" said Ski. I shook my head: yup, I guess I was.

Financially, I knew I could not afford her, but the theme was starting to take on a life of its own, its own course: to be exact, taken out of my hands--for the time being anyway; I think I was starting to feel her reputation involved; she had two girlfriends sitting by her and I'm sure there was something to my imagined plot of hers: I told myself as I starred back at her, and she I, and Ski at both of us, and Mac into his beer: perhaps we do have something in common after all, who was to say unless you took that step.

As I started to stand up, I noticed she was dressed in a fine modern style of cloths, and it made her look a tad older than I first thought. She put her hand out (it was thin, slender to be exact, smooth, nice finger nails, milky white skin, with a tint to it, not much, just a microscopic auburn tint) and stood up, 'shoots,' I said, Ski laughing and outside his mouth (now Mac turned to look at me, he nodded his head, a microscopic smile as not to offend Ski and I figured I stop on over there alter. His head kid of fell to his chest, his chin hit his chest, like a bomb, I saw him do that before.)

"Don't say it Ski, I'll turn around and leave."

"I'm not saying whatever man, just enjoying the trip, dance man dance!"

She was practically as tall as me, sandy-dark-brown hair; a fresh finding face, with a nice smile, a laugh right around its corners, and she seemed like she was naturally celebrating life, as I was.

"My name is Rolande, sit down," she said as a quick introduction; then her three girl friends said their quick hellos. Rolande just looked about, and then like a kitten, came back with her eyes focused directly into mine, like a hypnotist.

Facing East [Chapter Four: Rolande's Quest]