It was one of those unstable April days—rain, sun, wind, rain, and sun again. A perfect metaphor for Jacob's personal life. But this day was different because he met her. He laid his eyes on a jeans jacket with a big patch of an obscure 70s punk band Dead Boys in the park's kiosk line for a grilled sausage. I wonder what she looks like; he thought. Her hair was golden and her music taste–impeccable. The more Jacob studied her many jacket patches, the more he felt attracted to this mysterious lady. The minute she turned with her food, bam! His heart tried to jump out of his rib cage, and Jacob knew she was the one. Go, go after her, you big goof!
"Excuse me, miss, you dropped all this and more." Jacob referred to the band song from her jacket.
"Oh," she looked him in the eye and smiled. "Not anymore." She replied with another song title.
She floated next to him; blonde hair bouncing, eyes like a spring river, smile melting ice cream kinda smile. Julie was her name. They talked about all the obscure bands of the 70s and 80s punk scene, horror movies, and books. At one point, he forgot what they were discussing after. Her heart-shaped lips moved, all smiles and happy sighs, no words needed.
Those emotions transformed into something metaphysical when he saw Julie lay on the crisp sheets in the 3-star hotel room. Her round breasts swayed, her skin was like silk, and her cheeks and lips were like cherries. She moaned and her short nails dug into his skin. Jacob lost track of time. The warmth of her body and gentle breathing on his neck made Jacob sleepy.
The rays of the morning sun woke him up. Jacob rubbed his eyes and turned on his back. The bed was empty. Julie was gone. He reached for his phone on the nightstand to see if she left any messages or notes. Nothing. How could she just take off like that? Was it something I did? Said? He thought on the piss-smelling train home. Was I that bad? I need to call her.
His apartment was a two-room bachelor's space with a wall filled with vinyl and records from the previous century. "The number you have dialed doesn't exist." A robotic voice said from the other end. Not the message Jacob was expecting to hear. Everything blurred. He went cold with fury. With a primal scream, he slammed his phone against the wall, its parts scattered on the floor. The sound echoed through the room like thunder, drowning out all rational thought. His fist hurt. Jacob looked at it, fresh bruises on the knuckles and a deep dent in his metal cabinet.
***
You need to forget her; he thought as he shuffled through the old records. But what if she was here, but only five minutes earlier? Or the moment I leave she will step into this store...What if...
"Hey my man, no new records there since yesterday," the manager of the retro vinyl shop said.
"Did Julie swing by?"
"Julie? This again? It's been a month, my man. I thought you moved on from this one-night-stand golden-lock babe with a taste for the underground."
A month. It's been a month. 30 days of existing without Julie.
"Listen, you look like a ghost. You need to switch focus. Here," the manager dragged a box from under his table with his strong fingers and chunky rings. "Some rare shit. On the house. Now go home."
He's right, you know, this is ridiculous. I need to accept that it was just a fling. No cosmic connection, no love at first sight. A fling...
A bike bell broke his train of thought. Jacob couldn't move, breathe, or hear. Golden locks, button nose, river eyes walking into the grocery shop. That can't be her. Not all blondes are her. His feet moved straight into the store as an invisible force dragged him. I need...to be sure. Julie stood tall in the dairy section, lights from the refrigerator shaping her round face and cherry cheeks and the navy raincoat fitting her slim frame perfectly. Only two refrigerators separate them. He rehearsed this moment in his head for the past month and came up with so many scenarios of how he would approach her and what he would say. But he didn't rehearse this–a man approached Julie, touched her waist, and kissed her. Two thousand volts just went through Jacob's body, as it seemed. Two children ran to her, smiling and calling her "Mom". The shock hit him like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from his lungs. As Jacob stood there, frozen in place, Julie glanced up and their eyes met. At that moment, he wanted to see a flicker of that perfect day's memories, but her eyes were empty. Nothing.
***
She reduced me to this. To nothing. Jacob tracked her car, keeping the distance. It was Thursday and on Thursdays she always takes the kids to karate practice downtown and then she drives home. On Sundays, the whole family is at home. On Tuesdays, she goes to a beauty parlor. Wednesdays, she goes to the bakery near her house to get pastry and chat with the owner. But on Thursday she was alone for a couple of hours. He always parked the car up the street and walked to the corner of the street, under a birch tree, to observe her window. Look at her. Today she's wearing a beige sweater and cooking turkey in the oven. Last Thursday she had a ribbon in her hair. I liked it. She should wear it for me.
It was Thursday again. Julie wore a green hoodie and round-shaped glasses and spent her evening reading. This trendy author released a new romance novel. Julie was at her book opening yesterday after the beauty parlor. We could've talked about it, debated theories about the plot sitting on that gray sofa with striped pink pillows. Jacob squeezed the soft cover book in his trench coat's deep pocket. The same book she got.
Another Thursday. Julie had her headphones on with a grocery bag, searching for the entrance door keys. What is she listening to? Jacob thought, standing right behind her. The subtle smell of her perfume and shampoo was driving him crazy. He slipped into their building hallway right behind her. Everything seemed like slow-motion for Jacob. Her golden locks bounced softly as she went up the stairs. The keys were dangling in her hand. Every step she took felt like another blow to his pride, another insult to his feelings. She inserted the keys in the apartment door. Jacob felt something primal inside. His muscles tensed, his jaw clenched, and he struggled to contain the rage that consumed him. He gripped his father's army knife in his pocket. Julie must be his. Only his. He rushed and pushed her inside the apartment, slamming the door behind. She hit the floor, the insides of the bag scattered across the floor, her headphones played soft piano music. You look so beautiful on this laminated wooden floor. Her eyes went wide with fear as she crawled away from him into the spacious living room. The gray couch with striped pillows, the books, candles. It felt like he was home. But the home wasn't his. It will never be his. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He felt his blade go right through her. She was opening her mouth wide, but he heard nothing, as if someone pressed the mute button. The soft glow from the floor lamp shaped her terrified, wet, yet perfect face. Mentally, Jacob was in the hotel room, thinking about the time she was beneath him, eyes almost shut, mouth wide open in complete joy. Her fists punched him, but it felt like soft teasing.
"How could you do this to me?" He stabbed her again. "You reduced me to nothing!" And again. "I loved you!"
Warm blood painted the sofa vermilion. Color of our passion. Julie laid motionless, her river eyes now dark because of the dilated pupils. Her skin was shining, and her hair looked like liquid gold. She was perfect.
"Mom?" A child's voice resonated behind Jacob. He turned his head to see her son standing in the room. A tall woman ran up to him and shouted to go wait in the car. The boy ran out of the apartment.
Their eyes met. "Julie?" Jacob's voice sounded not like his.
This can't be! River eyes, golden locks, and a leather jacket. No, no! She can't be her! He shook his head hard and took a step back.
"You're that fucker from the park?!" Julie's voice resonated. "I told you to leave me alone!"
His head was spinning, the room shrank and in this moment, the family pictures caught his attention. Julie's wedding day, Julie's children and Julie with...Julie. But dressed differently. More alternative, more punk with a t-shirt of an obscure band. Red and blue lights flickered epileptically in the photo's glass frame. He couldn't take his eyes off it. He was paralyzed.
"Drop the knife and put your hands up!" A loud voice behind him demanded.
Two of them. There were two of them.