Look Away Silence Read Online Free

that’s a yes?”
    “That’s a yes,” I said. “I’m off in an hour. There’s
a coffee shop by the Tux and Tie rental shop. Old World
Coffee . Do you know where?”
    “On the first floor. Yep.”
    Suddenly, I spied the woman, who probably decided
she wanted one of those damn expensive sweaters . Now that
the deed was done, I had to get back to work, although the
prickling was incessant now.
    “I’ll see you there, then. By the way, I’m
Martin.”
    “Matthew.” He offered me his hand. A gentleman,
are we? I gave it a shake. “My friend’s call me Matt.” How
original. “In an hour. I’ll be there.”
    Matt walked off forgetting the package. Suddenly,
remembering it, he returned and snatched it off the counter.
    “In an hour. I’ll be there.”
    What a rube, I thought as I watched Matthew
disappear into the mall. I twitched. The prickle was gone. Strange
how that feeling came and went with this guy. Strange ? There
was something in the air — other than Christmas carols and retail
and shoppers and ugly, neon purple ties. I felt a spark of
eventuality — those instances in life when fate transcends the
folding of sweaters and games in the jacket rack. I am a child of
Christmas, ever since I opened that long ago long-box with the
ironing board and thanked flaky Viv for the best gift in the whole
wide world. However, with the departure of the prickle , time
seemed to fold on me — something kindling, echoing over the
counter, trailing like fishing line to some indiscernible point at
sea. I still wasn’t certain whether this over-the-counter encounter
was a gift from Santa. The ironing board still might have been
better, but the sea ebbs and flows, and I was drifting. If I was a
child of Christmas, then why did it feel like the Fourth of
July?

Chapter Three
Old World Coffee
    I was not generally a clock-watcher, but I was that
day. I shuffled through seven or eight more sales, and then decided
that my shift was up. My relief had shown up early and I took
advantage of him. He came to sort out the register and when he
turned around, I was gone — not as much as a Christmas card. If
there were adjustments to be made, we’d do it on that madness
called “the day-after Christmas sales bonanza.” Whatever . I
grabbed my coat and kit and scurried out into the bright neon of
Eatontown Mall. Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind. What if
this urban cowboy was just pulling my chain? It had happened
before. I’d be pissed. But why? The world didn’t turn on his
balmy eyes. Yet, it had been some time since I had dumped Arturo
and, being wary of the next crop of pick-ups from The
Cavern , it had been a dry spell. It was Christmas, after all. I
saw the Ties and Tux shop on the right hand rise. Old
World Coffee would be coming up soon.
    Old World Coffee was a sweet affair with a
European-style bistro jutting out into the mall — a perfect place
for sitting alone and watching the countenances of those about us.
Alone was sometimes good. I liked my space, but Old World Coffee was also a great place for cruising men or whatever floats
your boat. In the cowboy’s case, it was a place to fidget and pace.
I saw him at once — his distress and impatience. He fumbled with an
iced coffee as he watched every person that passed by. I was
relieved. He was anxious to find me. I bet he saw a dozen
possibilities, but there was just no one like me in this mall or
any other. I’m not vain, but I have a particular presence that
takes the stage. Whenever I managed to land a solo with the Jersey
Gay Sparrows, the audience was entranced long before I opened my
mouth and treated them to my glorious tenor voice. No, not vain at
all.
    “Thank God,” he stammered.
    I swung into the bistro and took my place with my
usual presence and flare.
    “I’m right on time.”
    “You didn’t really say, what time.”
    He sat, his head bowed, but his eyes peering up — an
odd position giving him the glam of servitude. I wasn’t sure I
liked