Swing Night (standard:drama, 4262 words)
Author: Bobby Zaman	Added: Feb 05 2002	Views/Reads: 3207/2175	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
On a harmless blind date Anil learns a devastating secret from Mona.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

to do with my own generation. 

"One of these days," I said, "I'll convince you and you'll get an
education." 

"Yeah, right.  Now shut up, Michael's about to have Carlo whacked." 

"I can't believe you like ‘The Godfather' but refuse to go to the
Mill." 

On her way back Courtney was to meet up with her cousin Mona in
Indianapolis.  Mona would travel with Courtney for a weeklong stay in 
Chicago.  Despite my vehement refusals, Courtney thought it would be 
absolutely the best idea since sliced bread if Mona and I were set up.  
I relented, only after holding into account that there were fifteen 
years of friendship involved, and poor Jasper would never be off the 
hook until he came up with a logical speculation as to my opposition to 
dating Mona. 

The condition was that for the double date we would have to go to the
Green Mill after dinner.  This really put Jasper in a bind, but I was 
not going to disrupt my routine.  Courtney loved the idea and said it'd 
be something different from the same old club scene. 

I showed up at Jasper and Courtney's at seven on Thursday.  Mona opened
the door.  She was very attractive, with shoulder length brown hair, 
and hazel eyes.  I introduced myself and walked in.  For the next 
several minutes we sat in silence in the living room while the 
affianced couple finished dressing inside their bedroom. 

Menial, silence-filling conversation was never an art form I mastered,
and felt awkwardly comfortable at being a bump on a log for the longest 
fifteen minutes of my life.  The only words that passed between me and 
my "date" were when she asked, "Do you live close by?" and I said, "Ten 
minutes away." 

After a semi-comfortable Italian meal at Buca di Beppo on Clark Street
we arrived at the Green Mill.  Little did I know Mona had been 
Swing-dancing since she was ten years old. 

"I wish I knew that before I made an ass of myself," I said to Jasper as
we walked towards a booth and when the women left for a customary 
bonding ritual to the confines of the facilities. 

"What're you talking about?" Jasper said. 

"If you or Courtney think I'm going to dance with Mona, you can forget
about it." 

"Hey, I'm not thinking anything." 

"I'm just warning you.  I don't care what kind of bind you get into with
your fiancé, I'm not dancing and that's all there is to it." 

"Anil, you really need to relax.  I thought this was your favorite
joint." 

The women returned.  Courtney wanted to get a drink and took her fiancé
by the hand and led him away. 

I'd be lying if I said I didn't find Mona attractive.  In fact, the more
I saw her during the course of the evening, the more I heard myself 
inside my head commenting on her looks.  She was also a good 
conversationalist.  Her trip to Chicago was part of an ongoing 
celebration of completing her Master's degree in Political Science.  
From her banter during dinner with Jasper and Courtney I could make out 
that her education was well rounded.  I tried to keep my mouth full of 
food as much as possible, thereby finally receiving Mona's recognition 
of being "the quiet type." 

When I didn't ask her to dance and declined, apologetically, her
invitation to cut a rug she asked me my profession. 

"I'm a writer by night," I said. 

"Published?" 

"A wannabe, for now." 

She laughed. 

"What do you do to pay the bills?" she asked. 

"I rot away at a telemarketing job." 

"You don't like it?" 

"That would be a gross understatement." 

I really wished some gallant young gent would ask her for a dance,
thereby putting us both out of our misery, and I wished even strongly 
that Jasper and Courtney would come back so I could make an exit for 
the bar. 

"Courtney tells me you come here a lot," said Mona and slid closer to
me.  She smelled wonderful, and her eyes fixed severely on my face.  I 
was on my second beer while she took moderate sips of her gin and 
tonic. 

"Every Thursday," I said. 

"Doesn't it get old?" 

"No.  I love this place.  Great atmosphere.  You're quite the dancer,
I'm told." 

She giggled and her head sank into her shoulders.  She sipped her drink
and looked at the dance floor. 

"These people are good," she said. 

"You see those people at that table," I said and pointed to a booth
diagonally across from us, "they're the one's to watch." 

"You sure you don't want to give it a shot?" Mona asked. 

"Believe me, I can think of about thirty other ways to make a fool of
myself without adding one more."  She laughed again, and I liked the 
way her eyes nearly closed every time she smiled. 

"What do you write?" she asked and put her elbows on the table. 

"I'm working on a play." 

"Really.  That's wonderful."  And that's all she said about that.  It
was refreshing to not have to go through the same questionnaire of the 
subject matter of my play and why I chose that particular topic, and 
the barrage of "you really have to let me know when you put it on," 
etc. 

She turned her attention once more to the dance floor and began shifting
her shoulders side to side with the rhythm.  Some minutes passed in 
silence and Gershwin.  I wanted another beer and asked Mona is she'd 
like a refill.  She asked for a coke. 

I waded through the sea of people to get to the bar.  Bad as I felt
about it, I couldn't snap out of my preoccupation.  My favorite thing 
to do would be to stay at the Mill still one, then go home and write 
till six before getting some shut-eye and greeting the day.  That 
custom had been interrupted.  I'm social, but I'd recently entered a 
sphere where I couldn't make room for too many additions.  Dating was 
as much an ambiguity as is the phrase "world peace."  Well, maybe not 
that alien, but it was a distant memory.  Mona was the first date in a 
year. 

I felt badly about the situation.  She seemed somewhat interested in
making the evening worthwhile, or she was doing a wonderful job of 
feigning curiosity.  She was good-looking, well spoken, and courteous.  
Seemed like the kind of person that gave everyone a fair chance.  In 
every way she was an ideal date.  I didn't want to be there, and my 
conscience pricked because I knew I was only doing my friends a favor.  
I stood at the bar and realized how much my concentration was scattered 
over a hurly-burly of thoughts.  I was restless, and didn't much care 
for small talk.  I didn't want to make any effort to put on a face and 
be polite.  I wasn't in the mood to nod my head and act like I cared, 
or to look into anyone's eyes to really show them I'm interested in 
what they're talking about.  And none of it was directed at Mona.  In 
fact, I wished I'd snap out of it and have a good time. 

The bartender finally saw me. 

When I returned with the drinks Mona wasn't looking at the dance floor. 
She wasn't moving to the music, her limbs weren't being drifted off by 
the beat of the drums.  She had entered her sphere, and I couldn't tell 
if she was enjoying it there or not. 

Her gaze was fixed on the table and the smile was gone from her face.  I
sat down and set the glass of coke in front of her. 

"Thanks," she said, but didn't touch it for the rest of the time we were
there. 

After she remained unmoved from her pensive stance for several more
minutes I asked her if she was feeling all right. 

"Uh huh," she said with enough subtext in her tone to surpass Willy
Loman's stream of consciousness.  I'm not one to violate someone's 
moment of privacy, so I leaned back, sipped my beer, and listened to 
the orchestra.  I caught a glimpse of Jasper and Courtney at the other 
end of the room, snuggling in a corner with her leaned against the 
jukebox. 

It was safe to live vicariously through those two.  They'd been together
since senior year of high school and went to the same college.  I was 
witness to many ups and downs in their odyssey.  I can't count the 
times that Jasper showed up at my doorstep with bloodshot eyes and 
smoke coming out of his nostrils, so intense was his anger, and 
announced it was all over between the two of them.  "This is the big 
one, Johnny.  No turning back from it.  It's all over."  I'd also seen 
him walking on clouds in anticipation.  I'd seen the look of absolute 
adoration in Courtney's eyes.  There was no doubt she doted on him.  
They were going places together. 

Mona sighed next to me. 

"I really need to talk to someone," she said.  I leaned forward and
looked at her.  She repeated, "I really need to talk to someone." 

"Do you want me to get Courtney?" I asked. 

"No.  I don't know." 

"Do you want to leave?" 

She looked at me with tears in her eyes. 

"It's too smoky in here, isn't it?" I said.  She shook her head. 

I didn't know what to say.  I looked across the room at the lovebirds. 
I looked back at Mona. 

"If you're not feeling well we can leave," I said, "it's not a big
deal."  She took a handkerchief from her purse and blew her nose. 

"What I need to say," she began with growing difficulty in her speech. 
Her chest and throat seemed to be narrowing by the seconds, trapping 
the words inside and stifling her.  "What I need to say," she tried 
once more, "I don't know if there's anybody I can tell this to," she 
said. 

"What is it?" 

"It's hard, and it's horrible." 

"So is life itself." 

"No, I don't believe that for a second.  Life is wonderful.  Why do you
say that?" 

"I don't know.  It's just something I said." 

"I don't want to put you in a weird position, but..." she broke off. 

"If it helps any, I'm willing to listen," I said, "Try me." 

"Will you promise not to tell Courtney or anyone?" 

"Depends." 

"No, it doesn't.  I'll tell you only if you never speak of it again." 

"I don't know.  Maybe you should tell Courtney to begin with." 

"No," she put her hand on my arm and wrapped a firm grip around it. 
"After I say this I want it to be forgotten forever.  Not a word about 
it to anyone.  Is that too much of a burden for you?" 

"No..." 

"Then give me your word that you'll never tell Courtney.  I know you
hardly know me, and you were probably set up with me against your 
will." 

Embarrassment descended on me like a thick mist.  Even though I was
beginning to enjoy the evening and her company, the contrary had 
already impressed itself in her mind. 

"I'm sorry," I said. 

"Don't worry," she said, "It's admirable, the way you were such a
gentleman.  Believe me I've been out with some first rate jerks that 
acted more important than they really were." 

"It's just that I'm not really sure I want to go out on dates, but it's
so hard to make those two understand.  I know they mean well.  You know 
what I mean?" 

"I know exactly how you feel.  They feel the same obligation for me
every time I'm here." 

"That's funny.  How come I never met you before?" 

"I usually stay with my grandmother.  But this time she's in
Indianapolis with my family." 

Few more moments passed in silence. 

"Please, don't think any less of me when I tell you this," she said.  "I
don't know why I'm even telling you, but I am..." 

"I guess things have a mysterious way of placing the most unlikely
people in a common bond," I said. 

Mona took a deep breath. 

"I was raped last month," she said. 

My first reaction was no reaction at all.  Then my head reeled.  A
flashback flickered in my mind.  An ex-girlfriend had had the same 
misfortune.  I remember the impact her story had on me.  For months I 
lay at night and wondered how it felt to be utterly helpless against 
ones own will.  I knew no matter how much I tried, I would never be 
able to comprehend the trauma, the terror such a violation could 
inflict upon ones impression of the world, forever.  My ex told me the 
one thing she despised was being poked in the ribs from behind 
unawares; that was the first thing her attacker did to "get her 
attention."  I was as speechless with Mona as I had been with Lauren. 

"Who did it?" I said and realized momentarily the ludicrous nature of
the question. 

"I don't know.  All I know is that he was the strongest human being I've
ever encountered.  It was as if a man made of bricks and stone had a 
hold of me." 

"You didn't see his face?" 

"No..." she turned away.  I put a hand on her shoulder but she refused
to let me see her face. 

"I think Courtney really needs to know this," I said. 

"No! You promised, Anil, you promised!" 

"I know.  But that was before I knew the seriousness of the matter.  You
can't expect me not to panic." 

"There's no need for you to panic.  I told you, I just needed to talk to
someone.  I haven't told the police and I don't intend to.  Now all I 
can ask for is your solemn word.  Can I have it?" 

I chugged my beer.  The place suddenly shrank and suffocated me.  People
became blurry.  Jasper and Courtney waved to us.  Courtney winked and 
gave me a thumbs-up.  I wanted to run over there, pull them apart, and 
break my promise to Mona.  I looked at her.  She was wiping her face.  
Then she put on some lipstick and rouged her cheeks.  I sat down. 

Mona put away the make-up and looked at me. 

"I couldn't see his face," she said, "nor do I know what he sounds like
because he attacked me from the back and had me on all fours while he 
raped me.  It's alright, there's nothing you can say or need to say." 

"Where were you? Weren't there people around?" I asked. 

"My car was out of gas and I walked to the nearest station, which was
about two miles away.  On the way back I was taking short-cuts through 
alleys." 

"You should've taken a cab or something." 

"We should do a lot of things.  Just like now you feel you should tell
Courtney all of this.  Should I have told you what I told you? Who 
knows?  But I did, it's done, and all I can hope for is that you'll be 
a man of your word." 

She was surprisingly composed.  She sounded like a person on a witness
stand giving first-hand account of a deed she had seen in broad 
daylight, with unfettered confidence in her own words, without a speck 
of doubt in her mind.  For lack of something better or more appropriate 
I said, "How long did it last?" 

"Probably a few minutes.  It felt like years though.  My body gave up,
it was numb.  All my senses were blocked from functioning.  I was there 
like an animal, carved out of stone and on display at a park or a zoo, 
surrendering to the pleasures of whoever wanted to have some perverted 
fun.  I don't want to disgust you, but I could tell when he was done.  
I felt his...his... you know...and all I could think was ok he's done, 
he got what he wanted, maybe now he'll let me go.  Unless, that is, he 
decides to kill me." 

She paused and looked over at the dance floor. 

"The smell of gasoline," she continued, "still scares the hell out of
me.  The canister I took with me was full and when he grabbed me it 
fell out of my hand and spilled all over.  That's all I could make out 
was the smell of gasoline all around me.  Darkness and gasoline.  You 
know who the only witness was that might have gotten a look at my 
attacker's face? A stray cat." 

"You still think life is wonderful?" I said. 

"Yes.  It's the most wonderful thing in the world, and don't ever let
anyone make you believe otherwise." 

The moment was beyond extraordinary.  It was magical.  Her soul gushed
out of her like a cleansing fountain.  Instead of bitterness and rage, 
she had love and hope. 

"I don't know who he is and I don't care to find out," she said.  "Do
you think I'm strange?" 

"I don't know what to think," I said. 

"What will it change? He did what he felt like he had to do.  If his
life is fuller or better because of it, so be it." 

"At the cost of your life? The wonderful life you so cherish and
praise?" 

"I do.  But it's not mine forever.  To me it'll always be wonderful.  I
can't control how other people want to live theirs."  I guess there was 
the secret to her reckoning.  Her life will always be wonderful to her 
and no matter what anyone does, she'll never change her mind.  Because 
the ugliness comes from within.  Because when it wants to resent its 
own existence it does so by destroying all that surrounds it.  Lord, 
what fools these mortals be! 

Mona ended her story with a wry smile.  Alan Gresik bid goodnight to the
audience with the promise to see us all in "six short days right here 
at The Green Mill Lounge."  Jasper and Courtney came back. 

"Hey kids," said Jasper, "Anil, I gotta tell you, this wasn't a bad
idea.  I like this joint." 

"Have fun?" Courtney asked Mona.  Mona nodded her head.  I felt the need
to say something. 

"I wasn't the best date," I said, "I'm sorry." 

"Thanks guys," Mona said, "for setting me up with John.  It's been a
while since I've been able to actually talk to someone I've been out 
with." 

"Anil's a good guy," said Courtney. 

"Alright, alright, Hallmark moment, I'm gonna puke if you guys keep this
up," said Jasper, "Whatd'ya say we go get a bite to eat? IHOP anyone?" 

"I'm really tired," Mona said. 

"Yeah me too," I said. 

"Geez, you two are just the brightest ray of sunshine, aren't you?"
Jasper said and stood up.  "You want something to eat, babe?" Courtney 
said yes. 

"I'll get in a cab with Mona and go home," I said. 

We stepped outside.  It felt as though I was in there for years.  Though
I'll never be able to fathom the havoc Mona had to endure during her 
ordeal, I had an idea what she meant when she said those few minutes 
prolonged her misery into years.  We were different.  Jasper and 
Courtney were in a world very far away.  The division between our 
realms was too large, too deep, for words to be able to reduce the 
proximity.  I couldn't just blurt what I knew and expect Jasper or 
Courtney to know what I was talking about.  Their reaction would be 
hasty, and justifiably so.  But it would not be what Mona needed.  I 
didn't know what Mona needed and never will.  Perhaps she wanted to 
purge a burden, cleanse herself of something with which she couldn't 
bear to live.  Perhaps it made her shameful to herself, let alone the 
world.  Perhaps she knew no matter what mask of mirth she put on, she 
would always be privy to the real face of dirge beneath it.  And 
perhaps it'll always be a reminder as simple as darkness and the smell 
of gasoline that will make her shudder one moment and forget the next. 

She remained silent during the cab ride.  I did nothing to change
things. 

When the cab stopped in front of Jasper and Courtney's building Mona
looked at me and smiled.  It was the smile I'd seen before anything had 
changed, when I knew no more than her name and her hometown.  She 
leaned forward with an arm extended toward my face.  Caught off-guard, 
I flinched back. 

"It's alright, I'm not contagious," she said and drew back. 

"No, it's not that ..." but she was gone before I could finish my
sentence.  I was left with the ten-dollar bill on my lap that she 
tossed over her back. 

Next day I called to find out how she was doing.  Courtney answered the
phone. 

"She's been acting really weird all day.  In fact she wants to leave
right away," I was told.  I made no response.  "You have any idea 
what's wrong with her?" Courtney further asked me, "She's been in her 
room all day, hasn't even eaten." 

"Maybe she's tired," I said. 

"Maybe.  Oh well, I'll let her rest.  I'm sure if she wants to talk
about something she'll come to me." 

"Yeah, I'm sure she will.  Give her my best.  I'll be really tied up for
a while so I probably won't see her before she leaves.  But tell her I 
had a good time and I hope to see her again some time." 

"You two were hitting it off pretty good last night.  I'm glad you liked
her.  She's a good girl." "Yes, she is," I said, "yes she is." 


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