Her chatty neighbor had been right, although her whispered words had been uttered more as a friendly taunt, a murmur from Iago to the unsuspecting Othello. A hint... a terrible possibility... that her own lover, her true friend... was seeing someone he had known intimately, long before meeting her. The eager gossip who had offered this damning tidbit called the girl "Debbie". Yes, she remembered... in conversation recently with him, the name had been very innocently mentioned; he had "bumped into her at the grocery store... how plump she had become... yes, people do change... why, it must be at least nine years since I last saw her... and then, it was nothing more than having lunch at her place, a little conversation, not much more... oh well... " and that was all he had said.
And now, here she was, actually following him... spying on him, however embarrassed she might feel as she traced the much-worn path which led through the empty lot and down the rock-strewn bank to the field below... where the brilliant lights and bawdy carnival music drifted up to her, tantalizing and cruel at the same moment.
"I have no business doing this!" she muttered to herself. Certainly he had merely decided to innocently wander the noisy maze of cables and crowds as they played at games of chance... hoping to win a brightly stuffed toy for a lady love, to show as a badge of one's resourcefulness and devotion. In all fairness, hadn't she always been fascinated by just such a scene... always the child, eager for the stimulating sounds and excitement of a carnival night? Perhaps, even now, he planned to test his skill, in order to surprise and delight her with his winnings... when he next came to visit with her.
And yet, she sensed a distraction that displaced this optimistic possibility. Above the entire kaleidoscope of vivid colors and activity there loomed the impressive form of the Ferris wheel, gigantic in its proportions... intimidating, in her perception. For she had always been frightened of the great wheel, with its brightly colored seats that swung precariously back and forth, threatening to catch you unaware and tip you out into the dark and empty sky.
As a child, her sister and friends had teased her by forcing the seat to shake and roll... to such an extent that they themselves had lost control, and had come dangerously close to actually hurtling them all into the black void of a summer night. It had been a terrifying time, and had somehow remained indelible in her memory. How angry she had been with their inane giggling... and how horribly panic-stricken, all at one.
Not ordinarily a woman to be easily frightened, as a child or even now, in her middle years... this one experience still served to remind her of an urgent need to avoid even the fascinating sight of the wheel itself... which perversely resulted in her being drawn closer to it. She was the unsuspecting moth being drawn to the impending doom of the alluring yellow glow of a bulb.
So intent was her attention on the great circle which now so overwhelmed her, as she stood at the edge of the carnival grounds... that she had momentarily forgotten about the man whom she had been following, and had lost sight of him. Yet, she knew with a certainty that he was there, and she also knew why he was there... Debbie!
Her cheeks flushed with a dry red blotch that burned to the touch. This involuntary reaction revealed the rage which was slowly smoldering within her. On the surface, she was a calm woman who seemed able to handle uncomfortable situations rather well, ordinarily. But this intense reddening always betrayed the truth; her inner reactions were still most aware when she was either being cheated or dealt with in a dishonorable manner... though she might not have said anything directly to that effect. It was her inner wisdom's silent declaration, nonetheless: "I do not like what you are doing to me. You're not fooling me. I am quite aware of your deceit!"
And even now, as she scanned the revolving scene around her, cheeks raging still... her attention was drawn to the booth where tickets were being purchased for the ride on the giant wheel. Several people had already lined up at the wooden gate, talking and laughing in their eagerness to select a colorful wooden carriage. Just as the gate was opened by a burly attendant, and the first couple chose a blue enclosure, followed by two giggling teenaged girls in a bright yellow one... she saw him!
How absurd... this man she knew so well, who was afraid of so many things. Afraid... it had been the word he had often used, when she had first met him on a country road almost five years ago, when their romance had first begun. He had been afraid of... dark clouds, wind in the pine trees, the narrow mountain paths they once had hiked, a winding steep road that descended from 6500 feet to the sea level of the desert below. So many things had frightened him, and he had avoided them all his life, until meeting her. And... because she was daring and loved to explore, she had gently coaxed him to but taste of these small adventures, to realize that there was little or no danger, under ordinary circumstances. With each achievement, it seemed that he was pleased with himself, and would say to her, "Aren't you proud of me!" Eventually, he'd begun to congratulate himself for having accomplished so many new and untried ventures... never considering the fact that it was her insistent and patient encouragement that had given him the confidence to experience these once-dreaded deeds.
But she had been proud of him, and had also enjoyed his companionship. Until she had met him, these excursions had always been of a solitary nature and... though she was content enough in her own company... it was much nicer to share the experience with someone you cared for. Someone you thought had cared for you... And yet, from the very start... she had always felt guilty for the nagging thought which occasionally surfaced in her mind: His attention is not genuine! You are one of many in a line of women whom he has "loved" and given his considerate attention to. Oh yes, perhaps he has been with you longer than the others... but then, perhaps you had been more patient and attentive to his needs than others were... before they too had recognized his questionable and acquisitive motives, and had thus thought it wise to sever their attachment to him.
How many times had you, also, declared your suspicions, and insisted that he never see you again? Each time, he had softened, and exerted an even greater tenderness, with flowers and intimate declarations which overshadowed any "foolish suspicions" on your part.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/7499731
