Sample track of the day
"Time Flies"
The Links Effect. (Short story)
Chris Kemple © 2005
Johnner was a two ear-ring man. He was enjoying his cool expression in the well worn mirror in his small bed-sit, standing back to take in the full frontal view. The light over the cracked mirror highlighted his most prized jewels. “They hang well” he laughed, enjoying even more the combination of his grinning face and subtle wit. He observed how the single gold ear-ring in each ear emphasised his handsome grin.
He stood, Elvis like, legs spread, considering himself, as he generously applying the Lynx deodorant spray all over. Having washed vigorously in the slow draining sink now clogged with his thick black hair he was enjoying the comforting smell of his administering.
“Hygiene is very important around women, that’s the difference” he thought as he indulged another application of the atomised fragrance . He stopped spraying and looked with a critical eye at what he considered his “ man about town” look the ear-rings gave him. His clothing, the choice laying on the bed would complete the effect. Johnner took the Lynx again and sprayed the entire wardrobe he had selected for the evening.
“Women love a man who takes care of himself but you have to let them know that you do, without actually saying it, that’s not cool” he reminded himself. God , but what he knew about women surprised even himself sometimes.
He had carefully sampled the different cans of the deodorant in the supermarket until he found a smell that was, well, cool and sexy. It was not enough to look the part , he knew he had more to offer than just an appearance. Sensitivity was very important, more important than just smelling desirable or being different. Being able to tell the difference between what was common and tasteless and something that spoke of the character of the man had set him apart from the Whacker’s and Damo’s of this world.
One more detailed check of his various orifices he thought “Well you can’t be too careful about these things, ye can’t feel cool if you don’t feel clean” he reminded himself yet again of one of his many self developed rules in his philosophy for living. “Yer a wise man Johnner” he acknowledged to himself in the misted, cracked mirror as he inspected the already trimmed nostrils . His reflection winked in acknowledgment. A nod of the head and the ear-rings sparkled light from the mirror. “Cool and wise” he smiled.
He started his dressing ritual donning his red boxer shorts, “A man of passion is a man of passion” he observed .
“ I’m too sexy for my shorts too seexxyyy for my boots” he began to sing As he slid into his black well ironed trousers. Zipping himself up “Too sexyyyyy” he continued, running out of any further familiarity with the words of the song. “Too sexy for my shirt” as he buttoned up the silkened slim fitting red shirt. “Too sexy for my jacket” as he adhered himself to his black leather jacket.
The song only ever took as long as it took him to get dressed . A well practised, efficient but brief ritual.
“One more step in the transformation Johnner and we are ready to change this woman’s life” He advised himself in the eye of truth above the sink.
“The common currency of Love my friends” he acknowledged as he counted out the Euro notes.
“Yeh can’t be cool if yeh haven’t got the money you fool “ He confirmed as he slid the money into his pocket . Enough to cover any situation for the night at least and some for tomorrow if things went well.
Johnner smelled the bed covers of the single bed “ Their bleedin grand ” he decided as he tidied them into a made up form. “Only changed them a week ago” But to be on the safe side he reached once again for the Lynx, raised the duvet and issued a lavish spray of the forgiving chemical beneath the cover for a sustained burst of five seconds. “The Art of lovemaking should always smell sweet “ He said, with an intellectual seriousness.
“Now, just one more task “ He reminded himself.
“I always know when I have had a good wash” he observed as he began to extract the discarded black hair from the sink drain hole. His good wash was confirmed by the degree of shade of greying of the wash water and the remnant ring of a greasy off-white tide mark on the chipped sink, left behind by the slowly siphoning water. He wiped the sink with the wet towel he had used to dry himself off.
Johnner wiped down the misted mirror to confirm the transformation. He was pleased “ Woman don’t even bother to try resist the inevitable” he said with a faint glimmer of hope creeping into his insular confidence. Now that the hour was drawing near for the agreed evenings liaison, a twinge of uneasiness crept into his solar plexus. He dismissed it by focusing on his ear-rings “She can’t fail to be impressed “ Johnner smiled “after all, two earrings are so unique, so …individual, sooohh coooool”.
After cleaning the sink Johnner made one last check of his fingernails which were long and well shaped. “Women like a man with well groomed nails, but only if they are clean” he chastised himself as he noticed a blackened thumbnail.
He filled the sink with cold water, his only choice after his extended ablutions. He began to scrub his nails recalling uneasily how he had acquired the resident dirt. It was at the four year old grave of his beloved Rachel and their baby daughter Jenna earlier that day. Johnner's stomach tightened . His scrubbing became more intense as he remembered them both, the last day he saw them . “That fucking coward took them from me “ Johnner ground out the words.
He had had said goodbye to them as he left for work a proud man , Rachel told him she was taking their new baby Jenna to the pier for a walk that sunny day. That was the last time he saw either of them until he identified their shattered bodies. The police told him that the guy driving the car, a Mercedes, was on a suicide mission, financial ruin or something. He drove straight off the pier hitting Rachel and Jenna who emerged from a concealed laneway into his path.
The police said he was drunk, drove like a maniac by all accounts. “Fucking coward had no cool, couldn’t face the pain” hissed Johnner.
With no revenge possible Johnner’s consuming rage was homeless. His furious heart pounded on the imprisoning walls of his chest .
“Stay cool Johnner , he’s not worth it, stay cool” Rachel’s soothing , caressing voice rose from the well of his subconscious.
Johnner’s reaction to the events puzzled everyone who knew him. Rachel always loved how cool he was and that was the way it would stay. He didn’t cry at the morgue , he didn’t cry at the funeral when all around him were shedding their pain. “If you lose your cool you’re nothing but a weak fool” was his principal motto.
The glint of his right ear-ring brought him back to the room, the ear-ring part of a pair that Rachel had bought him. “Wear these and you will always look cool to me Johnner ” she said when she gave them to him.
He had stopped scrubbing and was gripping the chipped sink with a white knuckle intensity.
He splashed some water in his eyes It helped to remove the stinging pain.
“Tears for fears… but not for you Johnner Whelan, it’s just not cool.” He straightened up, took a deep breath into his strictured chest. “It’s not cool to dwell on things” he said out loud to the echoed reflection. Was that his philosophy or Rachel’s?
A calmer Johnner Whelan took one more look at his posing reflection “ Cool” he decided as he headed for the door.
Sharon stood at the agreed destination, waiting “Ee better bleedin turn up now” she insisted to no-one in particular.
She had met him two nights ago in the Temple Bar during Jacinta’s hen night. Drunk enough to be tearfully sentimental she was confiding, how lonely she was to Emma. He squeezed past them both, close enough for her to get the scent of the deodorant. It was the same smell as the one she used to spray her pillow. It was a habit she had developed ever since Dave had left her, it helped her sleep on difficult nights.
It was the way he looked at her as he passed that pulled her attention, He seemed to be observing her but in a sympathetic way. When he squeezed past her on the return leg of his journey to the bar, she looked at him in an alcohol overcoming effort and said” I love your ear-rings”.
The loudly clucking henettes caught on to the exchange. Heads turned as one towards the strutting cockerel. with vociferous, intoxicated extroversion.
“Johnny bleedin Deppe, Pirates of the Caribbean” shouted Anna good humouredly flaying her arm sword like towards Johnner.
“Sumhin te hang onte te stop yeh fallin ouh eh deh bed Shargnnnn” heckled Patsy caressing his two ear-rings.
Squeals of laughter from the bedraggled inebriated clutch, who were all dressed as scantily clad, less than chaste, mock brides.
“Make sure their not brass Shargnn cas dey do leave marks” Angela smirked cryptically , The cackling laughter reached a crescendo.
Sharon was impressed the way he stood calmly and absorbed it all, drink in hand, still holding her attention with his singular focus.
The remaining hennettes with a unified understanding and synchronicity turned their mirthful wrath on the nearest victim they could find and left the two alone.
She explained she had to stay with the brood for the evening after some brief exchanges but perhaps a Smirnoff influenced intuition had prompted her to agree to meet him.
She stood outside the designated pub feeling awkward.
Johnner sat in the pub across the way observing her, waiting for the appointed time. His second pint eased the apprehension. “ Yer a fool if you break the two pint rule “ He reminded himself as he downed the last of his second. He rose from his seat and headed for the door, which meant he would emerge from the side out of Sharon’s view.
Sharon saw him turn the corner. She liked the way he walked with a smooth ease, his eyes fixed on her, he had made an effort with the clothes and those ear-rings, she really did like them “I like a man whose not afraid to be himself. Anyway they make him look so … cool” She observed as he came closer. She thought she detected a smile but wasn’t sure. She remembered the deodorant. Wouldn’t it be nice if …..Sharon started to blush, “Be still my beating bleedin heart” she pleaded silently.
Johnner observed again as he had the first night that she came well packaged. He saw her involuntary colouring, started to smile but managed to repress it. “Stop yeh gobshite Johnner Whelan, remember your rule .”
Chris Kemple
October 2005