from readers

Confidence

Akemi had told her friend Kaori about progress she was making in her life, getting free of Mitchell, finding her own way. She described a fire in his kitchen; it broke out by the window, grew large in a big hurry. They’d quickly filled pots with water, threw them at the flames again and again. They acted just in time, put the fire out. But there was damage. The walls were blackened.
 
And she told Kaori about a ghost she had seen on a visit to her hometown. It was really scary. She’d entered a house and an old man had approached from within. That he was friendly, gave a mild greeting, hardly seemed to be there, didn’t make the encounter any less frightening. His face, his attitude, were blurred and full of light, like something in a horror film; the vagueness spoke of another world.  Both the fire and the ghost in the house were scary. She couldn’t convey to Kaori how much, acknowledged with a laugh that “Talking about it, it just sounds funny.”
 
She talked about Brick, a casual friend of Mitchell’s from his job who had offered to help her move. He was visiting Mitchell’s apartment when she was there. He said he was moving too and expressed admiration for her paintings he saw on the wall. She said she’d give him one and help him hang it if he lent her a hand getting her stuff to the new place. They made a deal to join forces on two consecutive Saturdays- the first they’d see to her work and the second his. 
 
The afternoon he helped her there wasn’t that much to do and they finished early. She thanked him and asked how she could express her gratitude. He said very matter-of-factly (they weren’t friends so the tone was natural) that what he really would like was a good blowjob. She treated the remark as a joke, and that was that.
 
The second meeting- when she worked with him at his place- they decided to make a day of it- since both were sort of between things, on their own, without people to talk to; and moving involved a lot of waiting time- there was a bond of circumstance. They first went and saw part of a baseball game, sat in the stands until it got boring and the glare was too strong. Then he invited her to lunch at a Greek restaurant. They had roast chicken- “Not very good," Akemi said to Kaori- and potatoes soaked in oil. “Not very good.” Akemi looked at Kaori to be sure she knew what she meant.
 
It wasn’t a date- she and Brick just had a practical connection, were helping each other; by coincidence, their needs coincided just then, though he was nice enough. Taking their cue from the casual business relationship Brick had with Mitchell at work, Akemi and Brick did not think of becoming friends. They had a good time both afternoons but knew they would meet only then, hardly paid attention to each other’s personalities. His struck her at the start as boring, but a sense of humor showed after a while. As for looks, he wasn’t ugly, just not her type.  Squat, stocky, short, strong- his funny name, Brick, suited his physique. Even his face was square, nearly as wide as it was high. He had black wiry hair and black-framed glasses; despite his slow way, some uninteresting things he said, he didn’t look dull-witted. He had way of peering when he talked, curiosity that reflected intelligence. Dark eyes, circles the thick glasses magnified, had an intensity Akemi found funny, made her like him.
 
At his apartment, she helped him arrange things. He’d recently broken up with his girlfriend, and the place he’d just moved into looked empty, bereft. She felt for him and tried to make it a little nicer, add color. There was too much blank white wall space. Her painting did some good.
 
When they were finished, the work spread over two days was done, they thanked each other again. Akemi perhaps expressed gratitude more profusely, as he’d provided her the greater assistance- there’d been some heavy lifting, while she’d just picked up and moved light things- true he had taken a painting, on loan. She said again, “What can I do for you?” And he talked a little about his present life, plans, chores he had to dispatch, troubles he confronted getting started, not really complaining; he spoke with a smile and repeated the request he’d made at the end of the first afternoon of two they’d spent giving each other a hand.
 
“What I could really use is a great blowjob. That would help me with my stress.”
 
Akemi said to Kaori, “And then and there, that’s what I did.” She looked surprised after she spoke- her eyes opened- as if until putting the event into words right now she’d never reflected on it, it had suddenly become real. She talked to Kaori about whether that impulsive accedence to a stranger’s outlandish request was a good thing, a sign she was becoming independent and moving away from Mitchell, making her own life freely, or instead portended badly. Was it constructive or self-destructive? Kaori, a good friend, listened well; there was no talk of Brick and Akemi ever meeting again or of how he had enjoyed her expression of thanks.  She’d gone down on him while he was standing. In his nearly unfurnished new home she’d taken her shirt off for him. He saw her tan torso, her mouth at the head of his cock that pointed to her. The encounter was casual but the intimacy, revelation were not.
 
“It must be connected.” Having taken Kaori into her confidence, Akemi wondered at the events she’d mentioned- why choose those and not others to illustrate the unease of the period?
 
“The fire and the ghost have to mean something to you.” Kaori tried to help.
 
“Moving. Separating from Mitchell. Being alone, independent.” Akemi acknowledged the change was good, exciting. “Of course, it’s scary too.” She sounded impatient with her friend.
 
Kaori wanted to offer support silently, felt it too soon to comment on the highly personal account but saw Akemi needed her to.    
 
“Yes. Panic,” she finally said.  “From the fire and the ghost. And panic from the blowjob.”
 
Akemi shook her head. “That wasn’t necessarily bad.”
 
“Yes.” Kaori adjusted.
 
“I don’t know if it was creative or destructive.” Akemi searched her friend’s eyes for understanding she herself lacked.