With Christine seemingly out of my life -- for the best but it doesn't feel that way -- I have a bit more free time. Too much, I would say. I've become the cliche of an old man puttering around the house all day waiting for his family to call.
Which Pam did, this past weekend, with an odd request: "I picked up a shift Saturday afternoon, would you take Cayden on his date?"
"On his what?"
Seems "Cayden" rehabilitated his reputation at school to the point where he was able to start "going out" with a little girl named Magnolia, which I heard a bit about going as far back as Thanksgiving.
"Don't sound so shocked, dad, they're just kids and they want to go see the stupid Minecraft movie. They're too young to know what dating really entails."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that... what with the TV and the YouTube." I swear, sometimes I sound exactly like the old man I am.
Part of me wanted no part of it, but I felt like it would be irresponsible of me to wash my hands of it completely, as the only person who is aware of the boy's true nature. When we had a moment alone before setting out I asked, "Okay, what the hell is going on here?"
"Ugh," he grunted, seemingly irritated by my questioning. "What do you think? Two children are going to see a children's movie."
"John, seriously," I sighed.
"What do you want from me, Marc?" there was palpable, very adult irritation in his voice. "I've felt alienated and drained since I got here. It's not good to feel like such an outsider all the time. I made a decision a long time ago that I was going to see these children as my contemporaries as much as possible. Learn about them, relate to them... is it really any different from your dalliance with that Christine woman?"
"Yes it is," I guffawed, "For a variety of reasons I shouldn't have to tell you."
"You're right, it is," he said, folding his arms across his chest and holding his nose in the air, "I, for one, am actually capable of keeping things innocent."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I was more amused than offended.
"It means that you had no business even broaching a sexual relationship with that woman if you had no intention of following through with it. You led her on in a way you couldn't possibly make good on. I'm just a friend to this Magnolia girl. She's sharper than others, she has a good vocabulary, she's interested in things I have to say."
"Oh yeah? What's her take on tariffs?"
"Don't be like that," he sneered. "I only mean that being around her is slightly less mind-numbing than others. Anyway. This is strictly platonic. We're eleven for crying out loud. She asked me if I wanted to see this stupid movie, and I haven't been to the cinema in ages."
"So this is just your way of keeping busy."
"Exactly. Harmless socializing."
"Okay, I'm satisfied," I told him.
We arrived at Magnolia's, who's parents were all "Isn't this so cute" and I had to pretend I felt so too. It was interesting seeing John in "Cayden" mode, although he doesn't make a very convincing kid, still tossing ten-dollar words around and saying words like "cool" in a distinctly stilted way. Magnolia was clearly very happy to be out with him though, which was sweet and a little sad. When they were together, she did most of the talking, which I took as a tactical decision from John.
There was a few funny moments -- one when he begrudgingly went to sit in the back seat with her (bless the innocent child, she didn't try to hold his hand or anything) -- and one when Fleetwood Mac came on the radio. "Oh, I love this song," he said, "I remember when I saw them at--" and then stopped, trying to figure out how to finish that thought.
"You mean when I showed you them on YouTube?" I interjected.
"Yeah, that's right Grampa."
The girl politely bobbed her head through the song.
A hundred or so dollars on tickets and treats -- and one harmless if nonsensical (to me) flick later, the kids still had some energy to burn off so I gave them some more money for the arcade. "Cayden" actually appeared to be having fun at points, especially when they played something more generationally-open like air hockey.
When I got home, exhausted just from watching such youthful energy, I realized my phone was still off from when I went into the theater, which isn't a problem usually as besides Pam there isn't really anyone who wants to talk to me.
Except of course there was... a new message from Christine, which I was both glad and sad to get.
"Hate to ask, but I need help. Let's talk?"
We have an outing set up for her to explain what exactly is going on.
-Marc
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