7/16/12

Monique
By Mike Berger


The lady is beautiful and elegant in every way, yet she is aloof and unattainable. Men buzz around her seeking her attention. They send her roses, diamonds, and pearls; she sends them back. They take her to the opera and the symphony. They wine and dine her at the most elegant restaurants. They send her poetry and whisper gentle words in her ear. She is immune to all their advances. Men are undeterred by her blasé attitude; they throw themselves at her feet.

All of those guys are clueless about how to treat an elegant lady. I learned that lesson the hard way. I dated her in high school, but she only had eyes for Ken. He was the captain of the football team, and he treated her like dirt. He was a pompous ass; he didn't have any deep feelings for Monique. He enjoyed the bragging rights of taking her out and manipulating her into his bed. It took her more than a year to dump him on his head.

After that she turned out to be quite lonely; she became quite surly and no fun to be around. Two years after graduation, I ran into her in the mall. She smiled at me and waved, my heart did a little flutter. Her smile was disarming, not at all what I had expected. I decided then and there to ask her out. She readily accepted my invitation. I told her to wear a warm blouse and Levi's there was no hesitation in her voice when she said, "Okay."

I put an extra coat of wax on my Harley and borrowed an extra helmet. She looked surprised when I handed her the helmet at her door. She jumped on the back of a Harley and put her arms around my chest. She asked where we were going. I told her that there was a zombie movie in town. She replied that I really knew how to impress a girl. I fired that Harley up and screeched away; I burned rubber halfway down the street. We went to the B movie, The Zombies from Planet Seven. Munching on popcorn, we laughed our way through the entire thing.

We ate burgers and fries at local greasy spoon. What the place lacked in ambiance is made up with the food. I told her that this little place served the best burger in town. We washed those burgers down with a bottle of Bud. On my bike we cruised the town; my old Harley shook and rattled when we reached a hundred miles an hour. Pulling up in front of her apartment, I didn't ask if I could to come in. I took her hand as she stood; I reached out and touched her cheek. She pulled back and her eyes got serious. Her voice trembled slightly as she explained her situation. After she broke up with Ken, she developed a deep distrust of men. She dated men to make them squirm. It became a game for her to see how each one tried to get her into their bed. She found little joy in the game. She told me that she was always interested in me; I was the only boy in school who realized she had a brain. We laughed a little. She said that we must take it slow as she would have to learn to trust again. I took her hand and squeezed it and told her I understood. Her face brightened and she told me that she hadn't had this much fun in years.


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Mike Berger is an MFA, PhD. He writes poetry and short stories full time
He has been writing poetry for less than four years. His work appear in seventy-one journals. He has published two books of short stories and eight poetry chapbooks .He is a member of The Academy of American Poets.