Chances

He noticed and reacted to her eyes before he knew the first thing about her, but it was all he needed. 

"Excuse me," he called out to her, interrupting her from a large tome on her lap, "I do not want to sound so forward, but I must know your name."

"And why is that?" she cautiously replied. 

"I know this will sound incredibly cliché, but I must have a name to go with the most captivating eyes ever seen."

She slowly began to smile as she considered his request.

"W-w-wait," he stammered. "The way your eyes light up when you smile makes them burn brighter. Allow me to take a mental picture to always treasure."

"You are quite a silly man," she replied, still smiling. "I bet you flatter all the girls this way."

"I do not,” he protested, “and yet I have no proof to convince you otherwise.  I assure you, with every ounce of my soul that I have never been so bold or so forward in my life.  Maybe it's this tenuous situation,” he explained as he pointed around the room, “but I have never felt,” he paused as he searched for a word and shrugged, “this way."

"You do say never a lot."

"Apparently is the day that I said never could be.”.

"Ivy." 

"Excuse me?"

"My name, good sir, it’s Ivy."

"Your name is now tangled and wrapped around my mind. Thank you, Ivy."

"Now, that is a new one."

"What is?"

"The clever use of my name."

"I work with words," he said with a slight bow and his best flourish from in his chair across the room.  Then he faltered a little, "at least I used to."

"We all 'used to', it seems," she bemoaned. 

"Have you been in this fine established before?" he asked as he tapped the plastic wall in front of him. 

"You're not going to ask what a girl like me is doing in a place like this, now are you?" she inquired while affixing her bookmark in place and closing her book. 

"Absolutely not!” he feigned insult, “I simply surmised from the thickness of your book that you have sat in this very room, or another like it before today."

"I have," she admitted.  "You get the call. You show up. You dispense some blood. You wait. You go.  You know?"

"I do, indeed."

"This is my third time," she volunteered. 

"I would say that I have lost count, but it is absolutely number twelve for me."

"You must be a celebrity around here.  Do you work with lots of people?"

"Sadly, no,” he lamented,  “I was drafted into the sweeps a year gone."

"Oh," she replied quietly.  "What did you 'used to' do?"

He looked around the room and up at the cameras mounted around them and then mouthed the word 'journalist ' but said, "dentist" aloud.

She gave him an understanding look. "You would certainly see a lot of eyes and smiles in that profession."

"But none like I have seen today," he paused and gazed into her eyes, "Ivy. Yes, an appropriate name."

"And yours, dear sir?"

"Gabey,” he replied with another bow, “I answer to Gabey."

"Are you from the big city, Gabey?"

"Alas," he admitted, "my two friends and I landed here to seek love, fortune and fame a long time ago from far off lands."

"Interesting that  you list those three, and in that order."

"But, of course. The latter two can come in any order, but are worthless without the first."

"Any luck?"

"May I see you again after we have been released from our duty today?"

She gave him a coquettish grin and replied, "perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. 

“Then yes is the answer to your question.”

“Where is it you landed from, may I ask? The sky?"

"Oh but I could swoon before you now at your marvelous use of words," he beamed, "but old fashioned boys from Meadowville, Indiana have better graces than that. "

"I have never heard of such a place."

"Simple, small and to the point.  We have a Main street where everyone meets - or used to - and one full stoplight in the center of town where two state roads collide. It was a blinking light until just three years ago."

"Sounds lovely. "

"It really is.  My Ma still holds the family porch down with her rocking chair and knitting."

"Is there lemonade served on that porch in the summertime?"

"What else would be appropriate?"

"Does she knit anything special?"

"She's the seamstress and costume designer for the local theater and the high school drama club.  Well, she used to be. "

"She must have loved being around all those thespians."

"Ma did love to be involved in a good musical. "

"Did you act?" she asked and then laughed at herself,  "of course, you did."

"I did,  indeed.  From Shakespeare to musicals, I never said no.  No part too small, not part beneath me."

"Then why did you become... ah.." she trailed off trying to remember what he had faked being. 

"A dentist?"

"Yes!"

"That would be the influence of my pragmatic father, making sure I knew a real trade. He had me apprenticed with a shoe maker when I was a young child. It was his way of making sure I wouldn't starve.  He was truly the Yin to my mother’s Yang, or her the Yin to his Yang.  I never seem to get that straight,  But dad wanted me to always have a skill I could fall upon in tough times."

"I get that."

"But you!! I only know your name, and now it is not nearly enough."

She drummed her fingers on the hardback in her lap and peered across the room through the two layers of plastic between them and considered him.  "What would you want to know?"

"I want to know what makes you happy? What makes you laugh? What makes Ivy, well... Ivy!"

"Is that all?" She replied with a smile. 

"It's a simple start, for this fool will do cartwheels - although highly discouraged by nine out of ten of my doctors - if that is what will make you laugh.  And I'll do them until I can no more, and then I will do one more!"

"You are a fool, " she laughed, "but I have never had a fool before. I usually find the dishonest ones that have never once asked for what you have asked. "

"Knaves, scoundrels, and false fools are what you name."

"Is not your fool's act but a form of knavery?"

He leaned forward in his chair, the closest he could possibly get to her, and raised his left eyebrow.  "The lady calls me fool, yet names me knave. I have only my words to defend myself, and can only plead unto to you to prove myself."

"Do fools usually plead this much?" she giggled. 

"I will plead all it takes for you to allow me the chance to know you: to hear your stories; to know your idiosyncrasies; to learn what makes yo-"

"IVY!" a voice boomed into the room. 

"Yes?" She replied looking for the source of the sound. 

"Come to the front counter," the voice echoed. 

Ivy walked out of her waiting box to the counter where a folded sheet of paper awaited her.  She took a deep breath and then opened the paper.  She sighed in relief and folded the paper again.. 

"Do you wish to use the phone?" the voice asked from somewhere behind the counter.

"No.  No thank you,"

"You may go. "

"May I," she said and then hesitated as she  thought about what she was about to ask.  "May I continue to wait here for my friend?" The redness was rising in her face.

"Yes," the voice answered from beyond the counter, "remain in the quarantined section."

"Yes, thank you. " She walked back to her chair without looking his way.  After sitting back down and finally looking up, she was awarded with the happiest smile she had ever had sent her way. 

"For all the words I possess, " he beamed, "there are none to describe this very moment. "

"Why do they offer you the phone?" She asked, in an attempt to distract and stop herself from turning any more red.

"Courtesy, really, " he replied. "Some people need to call their rides, because as we know, it's better to get a ride given the parking fees around here. And I've seen some people call a counselor or therapist because of the anxiety they experience here."

"Oh," she said,  "I was thinking more morbidly, as if it was a last call. "

"I would hope you'd get to do that wherever they take you," he lied.  He had witnessed a couple of last calls and was happy to know Ivy had not. 

"Take?"

"Well, I have heard that you are removed from the premises, if that piece of paper doesn’t agree with them. "

"Then what?"

"Dunno," he lied again. "Can we please talk about you now?"

"I don't know where to start."

"Start in the middle, start in the third chapter, start thirty minutes ago, start anywhere you want, but i'll eventually get it all out of you and piece it together."

"I came here today dreading everything about this process. It's demeaning, and it's inhumane. I thought coming here would be another horrible day of my life, and now I think it will be m---"

"EUGENE!" the voice from beyond the counter bellowed. 

"Present!" 

"Front counter!"

He slowly stood and walked to the counter where the folded paper waited.  He opened it and then closed it.

"Do you wish to use the phone?" The voice asked. 

"Yes, I would.  Thank you. "

He picked up the phone hanging on the wall and anciently cabled as well into the wall, and dialed a number.  He looked up and smiled at Ivy as he cradled the phone against his ear.  She was looking at him inquisitively.

"Hi Ma…. Yes, yes, the caller ID is correct, I am calling from here… Now hold on, I've got good news and bad news for you… uh huh.   Okay, let me get the bad news out of the way. 

“Ma, I have to report to you that I have not found my fortune and fame in the big city.”  He looked up to see the smile that had changed his life.  “Her name is Ivy. Yes, it really is, unless she is giving me false information to not be able to find her again.”

Ivy was shaking her head and laughing.

“Oh, she's so much more than Miss Turnstile... yes... uh huh… that's right, you heard correct." Then he got quiet and took a deep breath.

"And now the good news, Ma.”  He smiled once more at Ivy and turned aside.  “Well, it's like this Ma… you don't ever need to worry about me anymore... yeah, I know it's your job...  no, no,  I'm not getting a new job. "

Ivy leaned forward and tried to get his attention.

"Actually, I don't know, Ma. I like to think I am going to be tending to elderly and sickly family pets at a farm somewhere upstate - I mean that is what I hope they'll tell you... yes Ma…" he held his hand up to his eyes and pinched the nose of his bridge as he squinted his eyes.  

"It's okay,  Ma. Really. I finally discovered today what it felt like to want to turn a city upside down to find someone, because that was what I was going to do.  That was until she actually volunteered to wait for me.  Better to have loved and lost and all that, right?"

He glanced sideways and saw Ivy's eyes starting to get glassy.  His own we're getting blurry. "Nothing I can do, Ma. It's just--"

The wall opened beside him and two androgynous figures in hazmat suits stood there.  

He held up a finger,  "Thank you,  Ma. Thank you for naming me after your favorite actor, for giving me the bug to act, to dance, to sing, and read everything I could.  But you no longer have to worry about your Gabey.”  A tear ran down his cheek before he could catch it and hide it.

  “Ma, I love you.  Thank you."  He slowly replaced the phone as his mother's cries were disconnected with the line.

The two hazmat suits approached and he held up his finger again to them. 

He turned and took a deep bow with a tremendous flourish and blew Ivy a kiss with both hands.  "There once was a Gabey who fell for an Ivy the moment he saw her, and I never believed it true. It's my Ma’s favorite movie… and well, mine too.  Thank you for your smile, Ivy." 

He gave one last smile as another tear tore free.  He turned and walked between the two hazmat suits behind the wall to the hallway beyond.  He started to sing about the people riding in a hole in the ground as the wall closed.