Tension Series by Kurt Garrett

Tension: Positives and negatives of any relationship are the wheels that turn life moments into happiness and sadness. Tension in relationships is inevitable and predictable but hardly measurable beyond defining experiences as good and bad. 

1. Finding the time to cry from hurt is of little consolation when love is so overwhelming...good or bad.



Requiem for a Friendship

HOR D'OEUVRES for READERS by Kurt Garrett

The thought of losing Lisa to another person never crossed Benet’s mind for more than a decade. Her friendship was a refuge for his volatile personality that recently produced a broken marriage. Lisa would not be there, as she had been, to help him deal with the painful fragments that were like hot coals needing attention before they would reignite. 

The peculiarity of tears for no apparent reason struck Benet with as much surprise. There was no one hurt or sick or in peril that he could think of, yet a light but increasing stream of tears flowed from his eyes as he sat waiting for the next train still 20 minutes away. Sure he was reminiscing to the melodic background music that took him back to his rural Mississippi upbringing that included a whopping dose of soul and blues music. Still, this moment brought something different. More than one emotion was triggered and like the gentle pounding of waves against a sandy shore they pushed against Benet’s composure until he broke. Against a beautiful blue sky Benet found himself wiping away moist memories that rebounded and would not retreat. Moving himself slowly across the marble floor less than self-assured, he headed for the bathroom to pull himself together.

Now it’s the third time that he cried for Lisa. Once he cried when she was in his arms but he could not consummate a relationship that was doomed because of selfishness. She traveling feverishly, nearing the first quarter of a nation-wide tour with STAC, an acting troupe out of Washington, DC. Her performance was promising and her reviews favorable for supporting roles that would eventually land her a leading role upon returning to the East Coast by spring. Benet cried again when he dreamed that he lost Lisa to a suitor who she had a special bond with though he could not explain, he lamented that Lisa’s heart was stolen. 

His dreams of marrying her were far fetched and brought some frustration. She was on a different path, a different course in life than he was and fantasies about marrying her were just menageries.  He’d have to give up too much and to start again without certainty contradicted his principled life-style.

The phone rang twice and Benet saw that it was Lisa; he was ecstatic but coolly answered “Hello”, without calling her name.  She immediately replied hurrying to get the words out as if they were choking her, “I’m getting married Benet.”

Paul's Pain

Paul was trying out everything and every woman after his breakup with Vie. The end of their relationship set loose a wounded animal on women in the world. Paul’s actions were responsive and never contemplative, thoughtless and violent. A woman was always hurt and depending on who she was, dictated the degree of her injury. Her level of maturity and depth of understanding the great range of possible human relations paralleled precisely the degree of injury and her inevitably bitter-sweet recovery. Paul always survived but never healed, he was in fact the walking wounded, invisibly bleeding. Though debrided, he was never whole. Paul sought Doc's counsel; he listened eagerly but never really digested it.

Pan came from a pedigree of seductive women who knew about their bodies and the men who watched them.  Her mother wanted to name her Lilia but her grandmother, who was barely 30 years old at the time, insisted that she be named Pandora owing to her mixed heritage that included French, Asian, African and Spanish. He intermittent father, if he truly was, nicknamed her Pan to ease the awkwardness of bearing an antiquated name during childhood. Though no one anticipated it, Pandora would grow up to nearly live out the mythical legend of her namesake. Looking at her you could see mixed blood, the sign of a gypsy for some stoics. Pan made those women looking down on her pay with an extra twist or sudden stop aimed at husbands or lovers who glanced at her on the sly. It was a kind of animal instinct that released an invisible pheromone like dogs marking their territory with urine. Few could resist her even though they paid for the stolen glances later one way or the other. It was said that men saw in her all themselves, their female partners would muse the same thing in their minds consoling themselves that they chose discretion over attention.

In her line of work when the tricks of the trade are cashed in it’s not usually for love or even broken-heartedness, it’s usually because of age. Prostitutes just give out or just don’t have the goods to get dollars. Not Pan, at 23 years of age she was stripped of her last and only pride, her ability to work the senses of a man beyond $500 cash for 30 minutes and the cheapest regulars that were tricked for $75, to get them hooked, came back with $300 dollars until she would see him again. The occasional tryst of this penurious few was consummated only on very slow days or better yet near PMS when her attitude wouldn’t bring one dollar.  Except for these buffoons, Pan made no money for three days approaching her period.  For Paul, Pandora pulled out all the stops. It was a mistake but no one could warn her. Paul’s clandestine meeting with Ms Betty was three women in the future and too late to help Pan. She was consumed with her plan to possess Paul. She had not tried to special to anyone since high school. Her flowing ease at living in a subculture was legendary and creative. She could care less about her client’s feelings. It was the business of getting his wallet, access to his credit or paid vacations or gifts. She was like a pro athlete at the table with brokers and owners accepting incentives and perks beyond the base pay. Only this happened weekly for Pan. So, it was not unreasonable to think that could saddle Paul like a young colt since he had a smaller annual pay than most of her client’s monthly allowance. But the beauty of her features and her hypnotic gaze lost their power with Paul. He was stone, too hard to move. The second and third gears of her maneuvers stole most men’s potency within ten minutes. She never exceeded fourth gear or found anyone who could tolerate her sensuality that included a rising crescendo of the senses that eventually erupted into a relieved and satisfied suitor.  It was said in fact that she had killed more than one man but managed to escape any charges because they were consenting adults. Regarding the case of a retired wealthy widower, the local newspaper reported that Judge Martinez was all ready to apply a stiff sentence when Pan was brought up on charges. He was halted when he discovered that no toys or accessories were used to bring Mr. Heinz to an untimely death au natural. He kindly smiled at Pandora and applied a $300 fine for pilfering and abated any idea of prison. Pan sported from the courtroom providing one last show for the staged policemen, sheriff’s deputies, detectives and a macho-looking butch bailiff named Matti who rattled keys periodically to gain her attention, but Pan resisted. She hurriedly passed the bar while folding white gloves over her palm like someone who had gotten away with murder and began to gracefully step-off 21 paces to the court exit. She was wearing a form-fitting white silk dress with black pumps. Nearing the exit, she purposely dropped a clutch purse at the door and bent over unlady-like in one final gesture to assure everybody that she was the real thing. The sound of 57 keys from the hands of Matti striking the terrazzo floor was the perfect ending to her display.

Waiting for Love

All Rights Reserved 2007

Being in love happens like a thrown rock crashing into a window. You just have to deal with the energy and force it brings but for so many, being ready is not enough to overcome the anxiety of what the next step will bring. The truth is failure is as probable as success and a breakup as likely as a commitment to marriage. Still hope and even adrenaline are more powerful than stories of broken hearts and broken promises which are the more common outcomes of being in love.

Waiting to be loved is the pastime of most Americans. Whether active or passive, the behavior of men and women made no difference in their outcomes. James’s busy-bee life at Frank and Frank Law Firm, P.A. kept his mind taxed with little time to reminisce about his latest true love. He’d promised himself that she would not occupy every free thought between the mindless copying he did daily and the forty minute ride to the Pilton County Court House to file liens, summons, and suits. The forty-minute ride was more difficult to manage since the radio was always tuned in to FM 98.9 “Slow Jams”. They might as well call the station code Frustrate Me 98.9 because that’s what it felt like with each song they played. The sky seemed always bluer when he thought about Jiani. And rainy days were worst as the rain poured like tears to Luther’s soft serenades and the grey sky intensified as irreconcilable lovers part with one last kiss.

This was all too much, but James was just one of many searching souls looking for a final solid relationship, a true soul mate. And while hope guided James’s preoccupation, Tori, a long-time friend cared nothing about hope. She thrived on the way being in a new relationship made her feel. She loved the rush; she enjoyed the demand on her time and the need to get pretty and stay fresh and polish her English and stay physically toned. Intense Dating, I.D., is what Tori called it, not being in love. Intense dating is like intense training. As a player, you prepare for an athletic event the same way. You keep your whits about you, you never let your teammates see you sweat and you maintain a sense of urgency all the time. To Tori this is the only way to be in love, bring your best self to the game and know the rules…more than fifty percent of I.D.s fail and Tori’s personal record supported the statistics.
At 26 years old, Tori had seen three engagements and a throng of admirers hoping to be lovers. She was in love for the adrenaline and as long as the adrenaline poured she was in love.

Tears for Lisa

All Rights Reserved 2007

The thought of losing Lisa to another person never crossed Benet’s mind for more than a decade. Her friendship was a refuge for his volatile personality that recently produced a broken marriage. Lisa would not be there, as she had been, to help him deal with the painful fragments that were like hot coals needing attention before they would reignite.
The peculiarity of tears for no apparent reason struck Benet with as much surprise. There was no one hurt or sick or in peril that he could think of. Yet, a light but increasing stream of tears flowed from his eyes as he sat waiting for the next train still 20 minutes away. Sure he was reminiscing to the melodic background music that took him back to his rural Mississippi upbringing that included a whopping dose of soul and blues music. Still, this moment brought something different. More than one emotion was triggered and like the gentle pounding of waves against a sandy shore they pushed against Benet’s composure until he broke. Against a beautiful blue sky Benet found himself wiping away moist memories that rebounded and would not retreat. Moving himself slowly across the marble floor less than self-assured, he headed for the bathroom to pull himself together.

Now it’s the third time that he cried for Lisa. Once he cried when she was in his arms but he could not consummate a relationship that was doomed because of selfishness. She was traveling feverishly, nearing the first quarter of a nation-wide tour with STAC, an acting troupe out of Washington, DC. Her performance was promising and her reviews favorable for supporting roles that would eventually land her a leading role upon returning to the East Coast by spring. Benet cried again when he dreamed that he lost Lisa to a suitor with whom she had a special bond that left him feeling helpless. He could only lament to himself that Lisa’s heart was stolen.

His dreams of marrying her were far fetched and brought some frustration. She was on a different path, a different course in life than he was and fantasies about marrying her were just menageries. He’d have to give up too much predictably planned living and marry her vacillating life-style.

The phone rang twice and Benet saw that it was Lisa; he was ecstatic but coolly answered hello without calling her name. “I’m getting married Benet.”

Bon Appetite

It's not everyday I get a chance to see you
But there's never a day I don't think about you
About the way I feel when I'm around you, kinda crazy and wild about you.
Is it possible that you're all that,
or is it just something you spat aiming at somebody else?
Truth is I'm trying to understand how knowing you less than most people I know,
I feel closer to you than you probably know
And yes I'm diggin 'feeling you' and flirting around with pressing your buttons, too,
Of finding the right spot to mesmerize your thoughts and spin the right tune to set the mood
And eat a great meal so we can chill and sit and look and listen and enjoy you all to myself one more time. Bon Appetite.