Monologue from "Measure For Measure" by Bill Shakespeare

One Final Time

All day at work in his office, his headache grew in intensity. After the lunch hour, about 1:00, Les told his secretary, Susan, (a pretty blonde in her early forties) that he was heading home early from work.

As he drove the streets toward his house, his head pounded with an such increased pressure that he barely remembered that drive home. He didn't notice then Stella walking hurriedly down the sidewalk towards the nearest bus-stop, the same he had dropped her off a week before.

He pushed the door from his garage to his house open and slowly walked down the hall towards the kitchen, in search of a glass of water, perhaps, or something to ease the pain. The living room was dark and his eyes were blurry from the pain, so he did not notice Monica huddled over on the sofa. He moved into the kitchen without thinking and reached for a glass of water. Monica's cracking voice full of emotion startled him.

“She's pregnant,” was all Monica said. He turned slowly and tried unsuccessfully to bring his wife into view through the blurry-eyed perspective. Failing, he let her swim before her as he moved partially into the living room.

“Who?” he asked cautiously and hopefully.

“Our babysitter,” Monica said sarcastically, glaring up at him. He gulped soundlessly.

“Judy?” he wondered.

Monica sighed and stood up.

“No,” she said and walked over to him. “Stella, your little girlfriend.”

Les stumbled backwards as she approached him, trying not to fall over in the process. He felt his body start to shake as if in fever.

“How could you do this to me, to us?” Monica's voice shrieked to a thrill piercing the pain in his head. He grappled at the air, mouthing silently in anguish, as he felt his legs crumble beneath him. The last thing he saw was Monica's eyes in fear as he fell and her voice screaming, “Les!!” and then everything went dark.

Ruby was sitting up in her hospital bed. The psychiatrist had come and gone. It had been three days since the incident and the psychiatrist had decided that she was stable enough to be released. Her wrist was no longer bandaged and sported the familiar long sewn scar, reminiscent of high school. She wondered if she still had those arm bands her mother had made her wear back then. Her old room-mate, Nicole, had stopped by a little earlier and agreed to let Ruby crash at her place for awhile.

The door to the hospital room opened and Rob entered, cautiously. Slowly, he crossed the room and sat at the chair by the bed. He carried with him her guitar case and a duffel bag.

“I, uh, brought you some clothes and your guitar,” he said, breaking the silence. Ruby stared straight ahead and did not look at him.

“Thank you,” was all she would say.

“Won't you,” he began and then broke off. In a minute, he breathed in confidence and said, “Won't you come home?”

Ruby looked fully at him, trying to hide her lower lip trembling.

“Why?” she demanded to know.

“Can we work this out?” Rob offered.

“Why?” Ruby asked again, louder. “What am I to you, really? How do I know it won't happen again? God, I'm so stupid. What are we, just play-things to you?”

“No, no, not like that,” Rob pleaded. Ruby stared up at the ceiling then back at Rob. She surveyed all of him, saw a vision in her head of the first time they had met, in class, the moment she fell in love with him when their eyes had met, the first time they kissed, the feel of his naked body against hers, and then the flash of his face between the other girl's legs.

“Go!” she said at last.

“But--,” Rob protested.

She shook her head and said again, “Go.”

He stood and looked at her, his eyes pleading.

“Just go,” she said, her lip trembling, her voice starting to crack. She could feel the tears swelling in her eyes. “Go and don't come back.”

He looked longingly at her and then he turned and left the room. She let the tears flow freely, feeling loss of him, the heartbreak of letting go, and strangely a sense of empowerment. As the sobs subsided, she pulled herself from the bed. Opening the duffel bag, she pulled out the clothes and began dressing herself, preparing to leave.

Down in the emergency room, the doctors and nurses were busy with the intake of a thirty-eight year old unconscious man being wheeled on a gurney into the hospital. Unbeknownst to him, he was hooked up to IVS and life support. Flying behind him, his wife, soon to be separated, came carrying a baby, her eyes wide with worry.

She hurried over to a desk with a window and began filling out the necessary paperwork and answering the doctor's questions. In the room, Les had been taken into, a young blonde intern was busy drawing blood and running tests.

Monica paced, carrying Sam, in her arms in the waiting room, trying to calm her breathing. As the young blonde female intern came to get her, Monica thought how fitting it was that this would be his on-call doctor, that if he was awake he'd probably flirt with her. This doctor looked like a much younger version of herself, Monica thought.

“We've ran some tests and your husband tested positive for meningitis,” the blonde doctor was saying. “We would like to start him on some anti-biotics, we just need your signature.”

“Will that help?” Monica heard herself ask, as if from faraway. “Will he wake up?”

“We aren't sure,” the doctor said slowly and thoughtfully. Monica slumped into the chair further, holding Sammy closer and harder. The baby squealed a little and Monica released her grip a bit.

“We'll make him as comfortable as possible, give him a private room,” the doctor continued. “While we wait for more answers.”

“Um, okay,” was all Monica could say.

In another part of the hospital, Ruby sat filling out forms, preparing to leave the hospital and begin all over again. In the seat by her, perched her guitar case. The duffel bag was on the floor. She finished the paperwork and handed them to the secretary across the desk.

“We'll send your information to your insurance,” the secretary was saying.  She was an older, very rotund woman with short, bluish-grey hair. “We'll be in touch. You take care of yourself now, okay?”

The secretary's eyes scanned down to Ruby's left wrist and Ruby automatically pulled her sleeve down over her arm.

“Thanks,” she said and stood up, shouldering her guitar and duffel bag. She left the office and began slowly to make her way down the hall and out into the freedom of the big, bad world, to face it now all alone.

She stopped halfway down the hall and watched as several hospital staff wheeled a hospital bed in the adjacent hallway. Once they passed, she continued her journey, turning down in that same hallway but in the opposite direction, towards the front entrance of the hospital. To her surprise, a very shaken looking Monica, carrying a baby, was coming towards her.

“Monica?” Ruby asked, startled. “Why are you here?”

“It's Les,” Monica was saying, her voice full of emotion and trembling. “They say...meningitis, he's unconscious, in a coma. I don't know...”

In silence, Ruby felt the beating of her heart increase, almost could hear it beating louder. As if my heart couldn't break anymore, she thought.

“Where did they take him?” she asked.

“Room 203,” Monica answered. She hesitated and then continued, “You know he cheated on me?”

Ruby said nothing.

“Well, he did,” Monica continued. “I had just found out when he passed out in my living room. I was confronting him and then he...I thought it was my fault.”

She broke off and Ruby could see the tears falling down her face. Ruby gave her friend's wife a side hug in consolation.

Monica went on: “While I was waiting for him at home, after SHE left, I went into his office at home, I don't know why or what I was looking for, just something, some evidence of--”

She broke off and wiped her eyes with her free hand. Her purse swung by her side with the movement.

“Anyway,” she sighed and went on. She reached into her purse and pulled a photograph out of it. “I found this on his desk, right by his keyboard.”

She handed it to Ruby, who looked down at it. It was a picture of all of them from camp. She remembered that day as their day-off from counseling, when they'd all gone to town to do laundry, have a little fun. That evening of that same day she and Les had kissed. It was the whole bunch of them in a group shot, there before her was Geoff, Tara, Jess, herself, and Les. In this picture, Les had his arm around her shoulders and both of their faces beamed in a large smiles. A happier innocent time reflected back into her face, when their futures were still brightly laying before them and yet unknown.

“He always really cared for you,” Monica was saying. “I know that he didn't always show it, for whatever reason, but you really mattered to him.”

Ruby blinked back the tears from her eyes and looked up at Monica.

“What room?” she asked, her voice faltering.

“Room 203,” was Monica's automatic answer.

“Can I see him?”

“Let's see,” and the two women and one baby moved down the hallway.

Monica let Ruby enter Les's room by herself. Ruby stood dumbfounded in the room, staring at her long-time friend's still body on the bed, IV's of life all around him, a beeping and blinking machine matching his heartbeats beside him. She moved over to the chair by his side, setting her duffel bag down. Gently, she laid the guitar case on the edge of his bed. Still clutching the photograph Monica had given her, she looked for a very long time at Les.

Finally, she spoke.

“I can't believe you still have this photo,” she began, trying to sound cheerful. “I think I have one like it somewhere, I don't know where. It was so long ago, it seems now. Where did you find it?”

She waited, half wondering if he would answer. She breathed heavily.

“God, Trip, won't you just sit up now? Say this is all some stupid practical joke or something,” she bit her lip hard. Then held up her left wrist, “Kind of ironic that we both are here right now.”

She looked at the picture again in the same hand as the sewn up scarred wrist.

“You were always so good to me back then, always there for me,” she said, her voice faltering as tears began to fall. “I never really got it, you know, I don't know why I...we...never...oh, you know. We were just kids then, right? Just kids--”

She looked up tiredly at her friend.

“God dammit, Trip, just wake up. Wake up now. What the hell would I do in this world without you in it?

No answer came but the soft beeping of the monitor. Ruby laid the photograph on her lap and opened the guitar case, pulling the guitar from within. She set it cautiously on her lap on top of the photograph.

“I remember it was you that first taught me to play, you started it all,” she said almost laughing. She began to strum softly, then a song came fluttering back to her memory and she began to play.

From the depths of his unconsciousness, a memory fluttered through. A memory of a young girl on a camp stage, lit up by fire-light, singing a song from long ago, and that long ago self began to understand and inside of him now he began to feel it too.

Ruby sang and the hard years fall away, all the bitterness that had come between them dissipated with each line, her true feelings revealed themselves once again:

“I wanted to write you some words you’d remember
words so alert they’d leap from the paper
and crawl up your shoulder and lie by your ears
and be there to comfort you down through the years.

But it was cloudy that day and I was lazy
and so I stayed in bed just thinking about it.

I wanted to write you and tell you that maybe
love songs from lovers are unnecessary.
We are what we feel and writing it down.
seems foolish sometimes without vocal sound.
But I spent the day drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes
and looking in the mirror practicing my smile.

I wanted to write you one last, long love song
that said what I feel one final time.”

Ruby felt herself began to crumble inside. She gulped back her tears and went on.

“Not comparing your eyes and mouth to the stars
but telling you only how like yourself you are.
But by the time I thought of it, found a pen,
put the pen to ink, the ink to paper,
you were gone.”

She stopped singing, abruptly, unable to continue. She held the guitar in silence and looked at her unconscious friend, her childhood crush.

“And so, this song has no words,” she whispered softly. Slowly, she stood up and placed the guitar back in its case, closing the case. The photograph had fallen to the floor and she retrieved it and moved over to Les's side and looked for a long time into his face, his eyes closed from hers.

Setting the photograph on his pillow, she leaned over close to her face.

“Ollie right,” she whispered, smiling slightly. And, she kissed his lips. Then, she moved away, leaving the photograph beside him. She picked up her guitar case and her bag. Then, closing the door softly behind her, she left him.

In the hospital bed, now alone, Les's eyes opened.

Somewhere Only We Know

The End

One Final Time is lovingly dedicated to my Y-Camp friends & faithfully written for my "Trip"

One Final Time

Ruby stumbled out of the bar and hailed a cab.  She had had a few too many free drinks at the bar after her set. When she reached her apartment building, she paid the cabbie and fumbled in her purse for her keys, juggling between her guitar case and her purse, swaying slightly on her heels. She pushed the buttons on her front entrance, unlocking the door and allowing her in from the night's coldness and darkness.

Stumbling into the elevator, she pushed the button for her floor and felt the familiar lurch in her stomach as the machine ascended. As the doors swung open at her destination, she stumbled down the hall to her doorway, pushing it open when she found it unlocked.

Entering, she found the lights dimmed, two wine glasses on the dining room table, one with lipstick and the other half drunk. She thought she heard noises coming from her bedroom so she cautiously crept down the hall towards the sound.

Pushing the door open, she stood in the door way with her mouth agape. A girl, breasts bare, lay on her bed with Rob's head between her legs. The girl's loud moans beat into her brain in cold, hard waves. When the repetitive motion of the oncoming slot of the girl's ecstasy reached its fever pitch, Ruby found sound escaping her mouth without her control, a loud piercing scream reverberating off the walls and into the very chasm of the souls of those in her bed.

Rob abruptly froze and slowly turned toward her. His goatee was wet with the girl's juices. He stared at Ruby, unable to speak. The girl pulled herself to a sitting position and covered her nakedness.

“Who...who is this?” the girl gasped.

“Um, this is Ruby, and this is Marcie,” Rob stuttered out as if this was a casual greeting at a local diner.

Ruby just stared him down. Marcie quickly rose from the bed, still clutching the sheet half covering her and started frantically searching for her clothes, dressing hurriedly. Ruby looked down at Rob who stood up himself, standing bare before her, not knowing what to say.

“You didn't tell me you...lived with someone,” came Marcie from far away. Neither of them noticed her. Ruby felt a slight breeze as Marcie quickly passed her, sloppily dressed in the hurry, to leave the apartment and flee to her own home.

“Why?” came Ruby's voice, a small creak within her heart. “Why?”

Rob moved towards her and she moved away, quickly, saying, “Don't...don't touch me!”

He realized then how he appeared and ran over to the closet, pulling out his bathrobe and wrapped it around him.

“Let me explain,” Rob began.

Ruby looked around the room, at the bed with its sheets thrown about, the books on her side of the bed and the glass of water she'd left there from the night before, the curtains in the window, and moved restlessly about.

“Why? Why? Why?” she wondered aloud, getting louder and louder as she went. She crashed over to Rob's side of the bed and grabbed his books off his nightstand and threw them across the room.

“How could you?” she screamed. Next she grabbed his glasses and threw them against the wall, the lenses cracked as the bounced from the wall to the ground.

“Calm down, calm down,” Rob begged, coming to her and then moving towards the broken pair on the ground. Ruby grabbed the sheets torn asunder and threw them above her head and released, they fluttered almost beautifully down to the floor. 

She screamed terribly and crashed into the living room. Grabbing the wine glasses off the table, she threw first the one with the lipstick and then the other against the TV. They shattered into a million pieces on the floor. She moved over towards them and collapsed amongst the shards. Picking up one of the large pieces, she stared at it almost longingly with a dullness in her eyes. She ran a finger along the edge of the sharpest edge and felt the familiar sting.

Rob ran into the room and saw.

“No, Ruby, please!” he shouted at her in desperation. Ruby stood up and stared at him, glass shard in one hand with her breath quickening. With one hand, she felt in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. Without thinking, she looked down at the screen, thumbing through her address book. Frantically, she wondered who to call, who could help. Her thumb clicked the number of an old friend.

“Pick up, please, pick up!” She prayed frantically to herself. The voice mail clicked over, “You have reached Les Daniels...”. Brokenly, she ended the call, thought about calling someone else, maybe Tara, but then let the phone fall dejectedly out of her hands to the floor. Tears of loneliness, heartbreak, and despair began falling down her face. She felt so alone, lonely, and afraid. She stared wildly at Rob in front of her. He moved towards her.

“Please,” was all he said. She held the shard against her left wrist firmly in place. He held out his hands, in the far distance, she thought she heard him say, “Nooooo!” as she let the glass penetrate her skin and drew the line down her arm. The familiar release of blood bubbled to the surface and began to drip, onto her skin, then onto the carpet below. For a moment, she stood, teetering between consciousness and unconsciousness, then she found herself falling, falling, falling....

She awoke in a hospital bed, her left arm heavy and her wrist bandaged up tightly. She stared listlessly up at the ceiling, blearily counting the dots in each square tiles above her head. She heard the door open and close, and someone moving towards the bed. A blonde head of a woman hovered above her.

“Hello, Ruby, how are you feeling?” it was the pleasant voice of a nurse.

“Fine, I think,” Ruby muttered softly.

“My name is Samantha, you can call me Sam,” the nurse introduced herself. “I'm the nurse on duty for you today, you should have a doctor to see you soon, okay?”

“A doctor?” Ruby asked.

“Someone you can talk to,” Sam began. “Someone who can help you.”

A shrink, then, thought Ruby, why didn't this Samantha just say that?

“There is someone here who'd like to speak with you, he brought you into the ER,”

Sam smiled down at her. “Are you up for that?”

Ruby looked up at Samantha and slowly shook her head.

Les woke with the early morning alarm. Monica slept beside him, still and quiet. He pushed himself from the bed and without thinking picked up his cell-phone from his bedside table. Blurry-eyed he looked through the phone, he felt the oncoming feeling of a headache approaching. He noticed he had a missed call from an unknown number, but they had not left a message. He thought about calling them back but decided against it. It was time to get ready for work. Perhaps once he had his morning cup of coffee, his headache would subside.

He showered and quickly dressed, before heading out the door, brief-case in hand. He'd go through the drive-thru at Starbucks for his morning breakfast routine on his way to work. In the car, his head began to pound with the dull ache. Gratefully, he took the latte from the girl at the window along with his croissant and took a sip, hoping that would ease his pain.

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One Final Time

Les pushed open the door to the noisy, dark bar. He knew this was a familiar haunt of Stella's, as it was close to NYU. He didn't pay much attention to the musician playing on stage, but hurriedly scanned the dimly lit room looking for his “other woman”. He spotted her at a booth, surrounded by a gaggle of girls her age. Reluctantly, knowing that she had no doubt told them all the latest and that he was the object of their scorn, he moved in her direction. He needed to make this right somehow, whether with her or himself, he wasn't as yet sure.

Stella had his back to him in the booth and he cautiously tapped her shoulder. Her face fell when she turned to him in recollection then plastered on a mock smile of amusement.

“Hi,” was all he could say. She looked at him, trying to mask the pain hiding behind her eyes. He blanched, he had not meant to hurt her, for any of this to happen. He didn't really know why he had pursued this, curiosity maybe, and boredom.

“What do you want?” She asked, tossing her head, unsuccessfully trying to sound scornful.

“Can we, uh, talk?” was all he managed. She turned to her friends who made their disapproval visible and then turned back to him. Slowly, she nodded and said,

“Yeah, all right.”

He could feel the glaring of her friends' eyes as she followed him to a nearby table. She was carrying her drink, a martini in one hand and she sat perched on the stool staring at him, with her deadliest eyes.

“So, talk,” she said at last with a heavy sigh.

“Look, I'm really sorry that this all happened,” he began.

“That you got caught or...?” Stella wanted to know.

He scanned the room, searching his mind for a suitable answer. He looked back at her, her eyebrows raised, waiting.

“I'm sorry, is all, really very sorry,” came his answer.

She heaved a huge sigh and then looked over at him.

“Okay,” she said at last.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, just okay,” she smiled at him, flirtatiously. “Look, I'm probably just really drunk and my friends will hate me, but you want to get out here.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“My room-mate's out of town for the weekend,” she suggested. He nodded in agreement. “I'm just going to grab my purse and head to the bathroom, okay? I'll be right back.”

She set her drink down and bounced off, letting her bottom sway seductively as she headed off into the darkness. Les turned and watched the surroundings. The singer was finishing her set and heading towards the bar, guitar in hand. It was too dark to make any full details out of her. He thought about getting a drink himself, but decided against it since he would be leaving soon. The singer turned, drink in hand, and stood staring at him. Slowly, she made her way to the table. Immediately, he recognized her.

“Ruby,” was all he said. She nodded at him.

“Les, I didn't know this was your scene,” she began and then concluded with, “Anymore.”

“Nice to see you too,” he said unfeelingly. “What brings you out tonight?”

“I play here every Friday,” she explained. “Brings in a little money, fun times, and I get free drinks.”

He looked her over. She looked none different than how she'd been in college or even high school. He almost could see the girl he'd met at Crowshaven, pretty face under the messy pulled back hair, dirty feet and all. He twinged inside with judgment and said, before he could stop himself,

“When are you going to grow up, Jewels?”

She scowled up at him and parted her lips to speak, but took a sip of her drink instead. At that moment, Stella bounded up, purse swinging at her side.

“I'm ready to go,” she said with a wink of her eye. Les looked over at Ruby whose scowl turned to a full frown in judgment.

“I'm just...,” he began and then reconsidered. “This is Stella, and this is Ruby.”

The two women shook hands with another.

“Loved your music tonight,” giggled Stella.

“Thank you,” purred Ruby politely. Stella turned to Les and slipped her arm around his waist.

“All set?” she wanted to know. Les turned to Ruby whose eyes were flashing with anger. A pang of shame coursed through his entire body. He didn't know what exactly to say.

“When will you,” began Ruby staring straight into his eyes. He turned, pulling Stella with him without saying good-bye to his old friend.

“What?” Stella asked him. Ruby called after him, answering Stella.

“When will you grow up, Trip?”

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One Final Time

Les drove his BMW through the streets of Manhattan towards his red-brick home. His thoughts fell back on the hours previous earlier in the evening, his encounter with Stella, the beautiful blonde young girl from the diner. He'd been seeing her secretly for the last few weeks. He sighed, he was always a sucker for blondes, even as far back as high school with Jess. He and Stella had been meeting mostly at her tiny apartment near NYU, where she studied nursing while working part-time at the diner. True most of their “dates” were quickie romps in her bed, but it was just what he wanted, needed at this point in his life. What could it really harm? Isn't there a case somewhere that extra-marital affairs can reignite the passion in the marriage? He thought he'd read that somewhere, in a People magazine or something. At least, that's the argument he used to justify his infidelity. With that, he pulled into his driveway, opened the garage door, and pulled inside.

As he entered the front door of his house, Monica called down the stairs to him.

“Is that you, Les?”

He headed up the stairway to the bedroom. She popped her head out of their newborn's bedroom, holding their baby, Sammy, in her arms. She was dressed in an long black sequiny evening gown.

“You're late,” she said, with a frown. “What took you so long?”

Les thought quickly to himself and mumbled, “Traffic.”

She nodded.

“Well, remember the benefit at the college tonight, we have to leave in about a half an hour, okay?” Monica practically demanded.

“All right, all right,” Les said, moving down the hall to their bedroom and into their bathroom. “I'll just take a shower.”

Monica followed him into the bedroom, bouncing the child against her shoulder gently. She had a cloth draped over her shoulder where the baby was positioned.

“I can't believe it,” she said, exasperated. “The babysitter is late!”

“Don't worry, Judy will be here soon, I'm sure,” Les tried to sound reassuring.

“Its not Judy this week, she couldn't make it,” Monica said with an angry sigh. “I told you this morning, I had to get a new girl, Fran at work recommended her, she uses her all the time, she's a student at NYU.”

“Oh, all right,” Les said, pretending to remember. He turned the faucets in the shower and let the steam rise. He moved into the bedroom, stripping his suit off from work, and moving into the bathroom in his boxers. The doorbell rang and Monica scurried off downstairs to answer the door. Les stripped off his underwear and stepped into the stream of hot water. As he shampooed his hair and lathered his body, his hand roamed over his body and his mind took him back to earlier that evening in Stella's bed. He felt his pulse rate leap with the memory of her scent and her flavor still on his lips. His fingers reached down and stroked his member and he let out a soft moan in release.

Out of the shower, he toweled off and dried his hair. Quickly dressing in his dress suit and red tie, he applied a light cologne to his face and ran his hands through his brown hair. He flipped off the bedroom lights as he left the room and headed downstairs. Monica was in the kitchen giving details to the new sitter. He entered the kitchen to see the back of the new blonde sitter's head. His wife smiled up at him.

“Les, hi,” she said, waving him over. The sitter was holding Sammy. “Let me introduce you to Stella.”

Stella turned around and Les gulped in shock and recognition. She smiled up at him, slowly, hiding her awkwardness.

“Hi,” she said. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels.”

He mumbled back, “Eh, nice to meet you too, um, Stella...”

“We've got to go now,” Monica said, moving her and Les into the front entrance way to grab their coats. “We'll be home around 11, help yourself to anything in the fridge. Thanks, Stella!”

And, out the door they went.

In the car, Les focused on driving and bit the side of his cheek, lost in thought.

“This should be fun,” Monica was saying. “Its a benefit for the music and theatre arts department at the college. The faculty is bringing in talent from the community to perform tonight.”

She brought out a pamphlet detailing the night's festivities and began reading off the names of the performers. Les let his mind wander with the list of unfamiliar names until one name brought him back to reality hard and fast.

“What was that?” He asked abruptly.

“What?” Monica wanted to know, looking up at him.

“That last name, what was it?”

“Oh, um,” Monica looked over the page again. “Ruby Rhodes?”

“Oh.”

“So, what about this Ruby Rhodes?” Monica wanted to know. “Wait, is she that singer like Jewel we listened to in college?”

“Yeah, maybe, I don't know,” Les was fighting hard not to remember.

“Didn't you know her or something like that?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Les answered. “A long long time ago.”

They pulled into the college parking lot near the theatre and headed up the stairs to the auditorium and reception hall where the dinner and evening's events would take place.

The first part of the evening was spent in the auditorium listening to the various performances, afterwards the guests went into a large banquet hall where they dined on fine dinners, played silent auction, and drank champagne. The performers mingled with the guests at the various tables, helping to plug the importance of the performance art for the college. Les saw Ruby, looking glamorous herself, walking amongst the tables, shaking hands and making conversation. He saw her make her way to the table he was at. She noticed him and her smile fell from her face, but quickly she plastered on one not so genuine for the others around them.

“Hi,” she was saying to the table at large. “Thank you for coming, its such a worthy cause, one I really believe in.”

Monica was smiling at her directly.

“Your performance was lovely,” she was saying. “I've been a fan of yours since college.”

Monica turned toward her husband.

“Um, Miss Rhodes, I think you know my husband, Les Daniels,” Les nodded at her and Ruby nodded back.

“How are you, Ruby?” Les asked curtly.

“Doing well, Trip,” Ruby said, making it a point to use his camp name. “Nice to see you tonight.”

Ruby turned back to Monica. “Yes, Les and I are old friends. Thank you for being a fan,” she said and giggled. “What was your name again?”

“Monica,” Monica answered. Ruby moved to her side and smiled down at her.

“Really nice to meet you,” Ruby said, with a grin. “You made our Les here an honest man!”

“Someone had to,” and Monica winked up at him, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. She turned back to Ruby, “I'm sure you have plenty of funny stories about our Les you could tell me!”

“I sure can,” Ruby said, conspiratorially. “Send me a friend request on facebook and I'll share some good ones with you!”

The two women laughed and Ruby headed onward to the next table.

On the ride home from the banquet,  Monica was ecstatic over the friend request and spent most of the drive fiddling with her smartphone and chatting with Ruby online. Every once in awhile, she'd let out a giggle and then stifle it when Les would glance over at her. He dared not ask what secrets were being confided between the two of them.

He pulled into the garage and Monica jumped out and hurried into the house to pay Stella. He was slow about getting out of the car, hoping to miss seeing Stella on her way out. Monica popped into the garage from the house, Stella behind her.

“Hon, can you give Stella a ride to the bus-stop?” Monica smiled sweetly at him. “I really don't like her having to walk this late.”

“Its really not a problem, Mrs--,” Stella began and Monica held up her hand.

“Don't worry about it,” she responded. “And, please call me Monica.”

“Um, all right,” gulped Stella and looked over at Les. He shrugged and got back in the car. Stella moved over and got into the passenger seat. They pulled silently out into the street and Monica headed into the house to check on Sammy.

They made their way down the street towards the nearest bus-stop. Stella twisted her hair and chewed on the ends nervously. Les's hands felt clammy on the steering wheel. She let out a sigh and looked out the window. After a moment, she said,

“You have a real cute daughter, Les.”

“Thank you,” Les said and then, “You don't have to...”

“What?” Stella said looking fully at him.

“Just don't have to pretend,” Les said. “Everyone pretends around me.”

The bus-stop grew near and he pulled along the side of the street.

“Maybe because you pretend,” Stella said and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her.

In Your Eyes

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One Final Time

Part Four

Les pushed the door open towards the diner and coffee shop with an air of superiority. His briefcase swung by his side and his smartphone was tucked inside his coat pocket. His suit was perfectly tailored and ironed, he was ready for his big day in court. Ready to win and nothing else. He moved towards the counter and placed his order with authority about him.

“The usual?” the cute twenty-something girl behind the counter smiled up at him. He did notice her, had been noticing her. Sure, he was married but looking never hurt anyone and most of the men in his office had bits on the side, as it was referred to.

Three years ago, he'd stood nervously in the front of a cold wedding chapel, adorned in a tuxedo watching as his beautiful bride, Monica walked towards him down the aisle. He smiled at the pleasure of the sight. In the audience sat only the best and most necessary guests, besides the obligatory family members and such. Not present, most notably, were any of his friends from the long ago days at Crowshaven. Since his last encounter with all of them at the Jewel concert and after-party, he had made up his mind at last to put childhood things and fantasies to rest. He was ready to suit up and grow up, to mine the battlefields of adult life and not just thrive but succeed.

Now, in present day, Monica held a child on the way in her stomach and was busy finishing up her dissertation in English Literature with an emphasis on Shakespeare Studies, teaching part-time at NYU in the English department. They had a beautiful house in upper Manhattan, nice cars, and friends who practiced the same upwardly mobile life style. His life was what he had wanted, his life appeared to be perfect. So, what was he missing?

As the girl behind the counter prepared his order of a ham sandwich and a latte to go, he surreptitiously slipped his business card out of his pocket. As she rang up his order, he handed her his debit card with his business card right next to it. She held both up and he smiled, mouthing a “call me” while hiding his left hand in his pocket. She smiled back and pocketed the business card and quickly rang him up, handing over the bag with his sandwich and chips, then his espresso drink. He moved them, with a skip in his step towards the exit. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied a girl, a woman rather, with a guitar propped up against her corner table by the window. Before her on the table was a coffee cup and a plate with a half eaten muffin atop it, she was busy scribbling in a journal. A flicker of recognition scampered across his brain but he quickly dismissed it and continued his destination towards the exit.

“Les?” came a familiar voice from the corner table. “Les Daniels?”

He tried, unsuccessfully, to act like he hadn't heard, was lost in his thoughts, but his body froze in place at the recognition of that voice and what it meant. He swallowed and turned to face the familiar and long forgotten face. He came face to face with Ruby Rhodes.

“Hi,” he pretended to search his mind. “Ruby?”

“Yeah, you know me,” she laughed and came forward. She made an awkward attempt to hug him in greeting but his hands were full with a coffee, a bag of food, and his brief-case in the other hand.

“Sorry,” he said in response. She shook it off and punched him on the arm.

“So, how have you been?” she smiled up at him.

“All right,” he said. “I've been pretty busy with work, actually. You?”

His eyes looked past her, out the window and watched the city flying by. She noticed, but did not look to see what he was looking at, but instead stared him down.

“So, working as...” She began. “Some kind of lawyer?”

“Corporate,” he answered crisply, still staring out the window.

“Aha, I see,” she turned around and followed his gaze. Her eyes fell upon a newspaper stand with the headlines reporting the events happening in the middle east, namely Iraq. “Fucking bull-shit,” she said, mostly to herself and under her breath.

“Excuse me?” Les said at last turning to her. “Is there a problem with corporate law?”

“No,” Ruby laughed up at him. “No, I was looking at those newspapers, the war on terrorism bullshit, blood for oil, more like.”

Les sighed impatiently.

“They attacked us first,” he grimaced at her.

“What the hell, Les?” Ruby began in wonderment. “You serious? You really believe that propaganda bullshit?”

“Facts are facts,” Les retorted.

“Facts, huh?” Ruby scoffed. “Who controls the news?”

“Where were you when a little thing called 9-11 happened?” he looked down at her, practically spitting on her.

“Don't try that on me,” Ruby began. “And the answer isn't more violence, that is never the solution.”

“Oh, please.”

“Lester Daniels--”

“Don't call me that,” he demanded. “You know not to call me that.”

“I'm not sure I even know who you are,” she responded calmly. “How can you defend the war-mongers in DC? Don't you remember what we learned at Crowshaven--

“Childhood dreams,” he said under his breath. Ruby's eyes grew large as she looked at him, seeing who he had become. She shook her head with that realization.

“That's right,” she said slowly. “I don't know you...anymore.”

With that she turned on her heels and headed back to her table. He stared after her for a moment then pushed his way back out the door, to continue on his way towards the courthouse.

He'd win the case. Another corporation would rise to further success and a small business would sink into oblivion. His bank account would be further padded out, his conscience all the more hidden beneath the prosperity. The cute girl from the coffee shop, Stella, would contact him and he would begin meeting her after work, before heading back to his Manhattan house, his pregnant wife waiting him.

In the coffee shop after he left, Ruby would welcome an old friend to her table. Rob would sit opposite her and she'd smile happily towards him.

“I've got big plans for you, Ruby,” he'd smile over at her and wink.

“Oh, yeah,” she'd respond, unconsciously licking her lips.

“We're gonna get your career up and running again,” he said cautiously and she slipped her hand across the table and into his. “Get you back on stage and modeling again.”

“Yes, please,” she said. And, Rob brought her hand up to his lips.

Shortly thereafter they'd leave the coffee shop and head to Rob's condominium, the place that would become her new home as they worked side by side on her advancement. But, today after drawing up future plans, they'd fall into bed together, enjoying the sight of each other's naked bodies and pleasuring one another until late into the evening.

Somewhere Only We Know

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Lucy

Queen of Narnia!

One Final Time

The night wore on. Ruby and Tera disappeared into the darkness of the other rooms. Geoff prattled on about how he'd met Biff, at the gym, and how completely happy he was. Les sipped leisurely on his beer and stared absentmindedly ahead of him.

“So, about you and Monica?” Geoff was asking and Les looked around at him.

“Yeah?”

“You happy with her?” Geoff questioned pointedly.

“Well, yeah sure,” Les said, staring in mock surprise at his friend. Geoff raised his friends up in the air and said,

“Hey, I'm only asking because you and Ruby were getting pretty close there,” Geoff explained.

“Yeah, well, it was nothing,” Les tried to say.

“I know you two were always, you know, had stuff going on,” Geoff continued. “But you got to put that behind you, if you can. I mean, you and Monica...unless, you don't want to, yet.”

Les looked at his friend and nodded. He slowly rose to his feet and stumbled drunkenly outwards to the swimming pool and patio. The lights were low, the water rippled a bit in the breeze. A few people soaked in the hot tub and sipped champagne joyfully, flirting with one another. Looking around, Les realized that what he was looking for he could not find. Ruby was nowhere in sight. He moved back inside and began moving through the down-stair rooms, searching for her among the many partiers. Some glanced over at him, eyes glazed over from their liquid high and then back at their companions. Les found Biff and Geoff sitting on the front patio, sipping their wine and pouring more when not nearly enough empty. Les sat, dejectedly, beside them. Geoff absentmindedly handed him the bottle of wine and he took a big swig out of it.

“Hey, Geoff, what was that song that Ruby was singing tonight?” Biff wanted to know, leaning against his boyfriend drunkenly.

“Exactly which one, hon, she sang a lot,” Geoff asked for clarification.

“You know the one that goes, “hmmmm, something something,” Biff tried to explain.

“Oh, Linger, why do you ask?” Geoff asked, putting his arm around Biff and kissing his cheek.

“How does it go?” Biff looked up at his lover, his eyes slanted with the weight of the alcohol.

“Okay, repeat after me, It starts like, “Hmmm, I want to linger,” Geoff began and Biff warbled out, “Hmm, I want to linger” right after him.

“Hmmm, A little longer,” went Geoff and Biff repeated him. “Hmmm, A little longer.”

“I said that,” said Biff, confusedly.

“No, you repeat it, okay?”

“Oh,” smiled Biff. “Hmm, A little longer.”

“Here with you,” Geoff said and kissed Biff.

“Here with you,” repeated Biff. With the wine bottle between his legs, Les looked up at the sky as his friends warbled on with that old familiar song.

“Hmmm, It's such a perfect night,” Geoff went on and Biff repeated him.

“Hmmm, It doesn't seem quite right,” went Geoff with Biff as his echo.

“Hmmm, That this should be,” sang Geoff and Biff followed suit. “My last with you.”

Les sat up and looked around at his friend, sharply. He bit his lip, took a gulp of the wine, for courage.

“Hey, Geoff,” he began. Geoff and Biff looked hazily over at their friend.

“Yeah?”

“I know what you were saying back there, about me and Monica, and me and Ruby,” Les said. “I get it, I know what to do.”

“Yeah, well better make your move fast, I think I saw Tera and Ruby heading to Tera's car a few minutes ago,” Geoff answered and patted his friend on his back, knocking him to his feet, and grabbing the wine bottle just before it fell. As Les moved down the driveway, Geoff and Biff continued the song.

“Hmmm, And come September,” sang Geoff with his echo came Biff right behind.

“Hmmm, I will remember,” sang Geoff remembering as Biff followed him. “Hmmm, Our Scouting days, Of friendships true.”

Les found his way through the maze of cars parked on the long driveway, anxiously looking for Tera's vehicle. He could barely hear as Geoff and Biff finished the song.

“Hmmm, And as the years go by, Hmmm, I'll think of you and sigh. Hmmm, This is good night, And not good bye. Hmmm I want to linger, Hmmm A little longer, Hmmm A little longer,Here with you,” They sang, first Geoff and then Biff following.

They fell silent as they finished and then Biff said, “What's that one part about the last line? It kept running through my head, so tragic!”

At the end of the driveway, Les saw the car pulling away, Tera driving and Ruby in the passenger side.

“Ruby! Ruby! Wait!” he called. “Tera! Tera, stop! Jewels! Jewels!”

In the distance, back at the house, Geoff sang to Biff:

“Hmmm, It's such a perfect night. Hmmm, It doesn't seem quite right. Hmmm, That this should be, My last with you.”

Linger

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