Calban Attends A concert : A Night Out (Ch.17) Part 5

Part 5

6/8/95

    Calban was at the club, where the concert had been held, a few days later. A different band, less famous, played for a while, but the main focus of the evening was the music to dance to, which emanated from all over the hall, jarring, fast, full of life and energy. These were real people, drowned by the celebration of music, which seemed more real than the staid lives which all of these people must be leading during the rest of their waking hours. The human spirit was not dead.

     He felt a tug on his arm, insistent and enfolding. Calban was dizzy. The psychedelic lights had him confused, and for a second time stood still while he turned to see who had entrapped him. He felt slow, as if in the deep sea, must be the lateness of the hour, the drinks, the women all around. He was looking at a slim female, long black hair, parted around a fine featured face. Her arms were smooth and bare. She wore a longish black dress. He recognised her. It was Clarella, the lawyer he desired so much. She was speaking to him, but he could hear no words. She was whispering in his ear, but still there was no real communication. He did not need to know what she was saying. Her close attention was all he could possibly want. She had his arm in an unavoidable grip, and she was stroking it. There was no desire in him for her to let go.

 7/8/95

    Finally she persuaded him to move by pulling him through the crowds, past music lovers and revellers, who had discovered this form of freedom from the confines of the standardised society. He now went willingly, drawn by her insistence, but puzzled by her sudden attachment to him. Was he in heaven perhaps, to be taken there by the woman of his dreams? Despite the great turnaround in his life which had come with his membership of the group, and his friendship particularly with Vera and Janus, he still did not count himself a successful human being. Life had improved, but he still worked everyday at something which bored him and sapped his energies, and he was no winner in the race of life. Could it be that he was poised to receive the blessings that only a woman could give to complete the life of a man. He dared not hope, fearing it. There had been something between himself and Clarella at that first meeting just a week before, and at the discussion meeting, he knew it. He had looked for her earlier in the club, but had not seen her. She had not been with the other members of the group.

    As they progressed through the crowd he decided that he should reciprocate her obvious interest in some way. He pulled his arm out of her grasp, almost surprised by the ease with which he was able to do that. Instead he put his arm around her as she led him off the dancefloor.

    “Where are we going? I could not hear a word you said before in there,” he asked.

    “I am going to show you new experiences,” she said mysteriously, laughing. She was in an open mood, he sensed. She was his it seemed, but what should he do or say next. He still felt confused, perhaps a little tired, and there was a rising panic in him. He had never been this close before. He was bound to mess it up. She had better know how to proceed, because his own library of charms was empty.

    He brought his head closer to hers as she led him, and he tried to kiss her clumsily. But they were still moving so it could not be effective. He felt foolish as she stopped and grinned at him. Had he done the right thing or had he gone too far?

4/4/05

He moved again clumsily towards her, taking her playful grin as permission. But she stepped back as he approached, grinning again. She seemed not to be going to let him kiss here, but she was smiling at him and still fully attentive. What did the lady want from him? He did not know.

   Isolation and the vidnet had encouraged him to believe that women wanted what men wanted; Vera had said as much. Why then did she pull away from him when he had developed the courage to make a move? He told himself to be patient. Women were to be respected. He had heard sometimes, probably from the vidnet, that when women were ready to accept a man’s attention the man would know. The man would be left in no doubt when the time came. The time was not yet complete, he told himself. Nonetheless he seemed to be getting closer to Clarella. Tonight had been an adventure beyond his expectations. Until now he could not have believed his luck. This small setback may be nothing to her. Perhaps the new experiences she had referred to would be what he had hoped for. Perhaps they were just not intended to be immediate. Until now he had been beginning to feel less disorientated and his feelings regarding Clarella had been beginning to stabilise. A powerful attraction held him. She was extremely beautiful to him. He had begun to get used to that feeling and that he was now in her circle. He could talk to her and she regarded him as a friend she could play with. He should still be confident that she was about to give him the sexual intimacy he desired so much. He was expecting too much if he thought that would happen so soon. It was a rare thing to find the opposite sex so encouraging. In his own experience intimacy with a woman had always been virtually impossible, an elusive dream, unless perhaps you could find someone who was willing to do it for money.

    She drew him through the crowd, but he could not grasp her hand. She kept looking to see that he was following. Whenever he drew close enough she moved on, but would wait for him so they could not be separated. When she finally stopped, in a darkened part of the club, where there were seats and tables, she stopped. Other couples embraced against the wall or talked as the music was less overpowering here.

   “What kind of experiences do you mean?” he asked.

   She looked as if she did not comprehend the origin of his question. “Experiences?” she asked quizzically. Was she forgetful or was this some childish play? Perhaps he was trying too hard to be forward. “I thought you would like to see the back of the club. You said you had not been here before last week. I bet you never came to this part last time.”

     “No,” he admitted, dumbly.

     “We can talk better here,” she said. There was a silence in him now. What should he talk about? He had hoped they could avoid talking. Actions would have meant so much more than words. Perhaps she felt the awkwardness of the moment too. He had nothing to say. She had destroyed the ease he had felt before. If she wanted him to talk or even to kiss she would have to show him the way. He did not know what she wanted. He was all confusion waiting for a clear signal.

22/4/01

   Calban wanted Clarella. She was so much that he desired. She was communicative and urbane, sensible, together, able and exciting to be with. When he was with her he believed that he could never be the object of her true attention. Surely he was not talkative enough, not interesting enough, not humorous enough. He knew Clarella liked him as a friend. Perhaps she took pity on him. But he could not guess at the level of her sexual interest in him. It could quite easily be nothing. His lack of understanding preempted any possibility of action on his part. How could he risk his dignity by attempting to confirm his hopes. He did not understand women. This one was no exception. He knew she thought of him as a friend, but what else he did not know, would never know unless he was prepared to make some attempt upon her which he could never do.