A Resurfacing

Now:

Miriam loved Sundays. It was the one day a week that was just for her. She’d get up around 9am, go for a run, have coffee at her favorite cafe, and then go to the nearby park and read for several hours. Today she was reading Alex Michaelides The Silent Patient. Sprawled on the blanket she brought, she lost herself in the creepy thriller, stopping occasionally to look up at the others in the park. Couples having a picnic, children on the swings, teenagers playing basketball. She smiled and was about to go back to reading when she noticed a man on the other side of the park, staring at her. She immediately felt goosebumps. The man began to walk away from Miriam, and she felt herself relax slightly. She watched as he made his way to the edge of the park and disappeared behind a cluster of trees. She told herself she was being paranoid. “He could’ve just been people watching, like you were,” she thought. Besides, even if he was a creep, the park was full of other people. She was safe. She tried to re-immerse herself in her book, but she kept glancing up, looking around and waiting to see if he popped out of a bush. She realized that she wouldn’t be able to relax anymore, so decided to get up and just go home. She gathered her stuff and looked around once more. She walked out of the park and down the street, stopping at a crosswalk, waiting for the green man to appear. She felt uneasy and even though she tried to shake the feeling, she couldn’t. She looked around and spotted him. He was several blocks down, and he was looking at her. He started walking away when he saw her looking, but that did nothing to dispel her fear. He had been there. He was waiting for her. Miriam watched him stop and look behind him. Watched him look at her. He smiled and Miriam felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise up. He continued to walk away from her, but Miriam still looked. She didn’t know why he freaked her out so much. He looked to be about her age, wearing normal clothes. But that smile. She shuddered. “Just go home,” she thought. And if he followed her home? The street was busy, with passing cars and pedestrians, all enjoying their Sunday. She could go to the café and wait it out. She could see if he followed and if he did? Would she confront him? Demand to know why he was following her? If she caused a big scene, maybe he’d freak out and leave. Her mom had taught her that. “Make a scene, be loud, they don’t expect that.” She walked quickly across the street and headed toward the café. She kept looking around as she walked, glancing behind her every couple of steps. When she got to the café she paused and felt her throat suddenly close up. He was already there, sitting at a table facing the door as if waiting for her. He smiled. She walked in.

“Well, hi, Miriam,” he said and Miriam almost fainted.

Then:

Miriam sat in the back of the lecture hall near the exit. It wasn’t that she hated the class. The professor was engaging, and she participated every now and then. She just hated lecture halls. They were too big, and she wanted to make sure she could leave easily if she ever needed to. The class had already started when he walked in. Late again. Miram watched him take the same seat he always took. A row ahead of hers on the opposite side. He had shown up the second week of classes and spent most of the time looking at Miriam. Last class he had turned to look at her about 8 times. She wondered if he’d break the record today. Miriam was used to people looking at her. She wasn’t bothered by it, and she found it amusing that he kept looking but never said anything. Never approached her. She wasn’t sure what she’d do if he ever did. He wasn’t exactly her type, but one never knows, right? She was fairly open-minded when it came to dating. She was genuinely one of those people who was won over by personality rather than physical appearance. She focused on the lecture but kept tabs on when he turned his face. It was halfway through the class when she counted ten. Damn. On the 11^th turn she locked eyes with him. His eyes widened and she smiled. He smiled back. And then he got up. And walked toward her.

“Can I sit next to you?” he asked softly.

Miriam nodded, “Sure.”

It was sweet really, the way his hands shook, the earnest expression on his face.

“So, you finally decided to make a move, huh?” Miram asked playfully, nudging him softly in the side.

He chuckled, “I guess I’ve been that obvious?”

Miram shrugged and smiled.

“I’m David,” he said.

“Miriam,” she responded, and they shook hands.

Miram noticed the professor looking at them while he lectured so she motioned to David to pay attention.

After a few moments, his hand wandered over to her notebook.

“Want to grab a coffee after?” he wrote.

Miriam wrote, “Yes.”

After the lecture finished, they made their way to the university café.

“So, David,” she asked, “What are you here for?”

She learned he was getting his master’s in political science. She noticed how attentive he was. His eyes rarely strayed from hers and he asked her all kinds of questions. It was a lovely afternoon. And when she had to go to her next class, he asked her if she wanted to have dinner later and she agreed. They exchanged numbers and she was taken in by his obvious excitement. It wasn’t until she was sitting in her class that she realized he hadn’t answered any of her questions. Every time she had asked him something personal, he gave a vague answer and turned the conversation back to her.

Hours later she sat across from him at an almost too-fancy restaurant he'd picked out, touched by the fact he had dressed up. Button-down shirt, a casual suit jacket. His hair was slicked back, in a way she often found attractive in men.

“So, why political science?” she asked.

“It’s the best way I can think of to make a difference,” he responded, “Tell me more about why you chose English.”

“No, no,” she said laughing, “You’re not going to get away with that this time.”

“Away with what?” he asked.

“With only asking me questions. I want to know about you too,” she said.

He paused.

“So,” she continued, “how do you want to make a difference?”

“Honestly,” he responded, “I got my masters, so I can teach. I genuinely love teaching. I was a TA for several professors last semester and I loved it. It’s exciting to see the students get excited, you know?”

She nodded and smiled, “That’s kinda what I said earlier at lunch. You stealing my words?”

He laughed, “No, no. It’s just true. I don’t think there’s anything more important than shaping the next generation. And shaping them without adding my own agenda. Just passing on information and letting them make their own opinions and decisions.”

She felt her chest become warm. She had said something similar to people many times.

“So, where do you stand on the political spectrum?” she asked.

He frowned, “That’s a dangerous question.”

“If we’re going to keep seeing each other, I need to know where you stand," she replied, “Political differences are more than just a different set of opinions. It’s a different set of values and beliefs. Differences in how you see the world.”

He paused and then smiled, “I’m definitely on the left. But honestly, I really hate the fact that all we have is a two-party system. It’s just so broken in so many ways and as the great Bell Hooks said a ‘white-supremacist-capitalist-patriarchy.’ That’s us in a nutshell, isn’t it?"

Miriam looked David over. Just the other day, she’d been at a bar with friends and had delivered pretty much the same speech with the same quote.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she said.

“So,” he said, putting his arms on the table, “You want dessert?”

She smiled, “I have dessert at my place.”

The night was perfect. Cool with a slight breeze.

“Do you live on campus?” she asked.

“No,” he said, “I live nearby.”

“Yea, I prefer that too,” she said.

“You live alone?” he asked.

She smiled and nodded.

“So,” she asked, “Which professor is your favorite?”

He stuttered out, “Wh-what?”

“Um,” she said, taken aback by his surprise, “favorite professor? Do you have one?”

“Oh,” he said laughing nervously, “Sorry. It’s just…the question seemed to come out of nowhere.”

“I was just thinking about it,” she said, still confused by his reaction, “You know, you said you’ve TAed. I was curious.”

“Oh, well, uh, I guess my favorite would have to be…Professor Wilkins,” he said.

“What do they teach?” she asked, wondering why he seemed suddenly nervous.

“California law,” he responded, “and…he does it in a way that’s interesting, you know? He makes the boring stuff exciting.”

She smiled, “That’s definitely a skill. And he’s the one you’ve TAed for?”

He nodded.

She stopped in front of her apartment building and smirked at him, “You ready for dessert?”

She couldn’t help the feeling of adoration that spread over her as she noticed how his hands shook again as he held the door open. It wasn’t the first time someone had been nervous in front of her, but it was the first time she was affected by it. He was so cute. Once her door was closed and locked behind them, she made her desires clear, and he was more than enthusiastic with his response.

The next morning was as sweet as the night before. She made him coffee and a simple breakfast of eggs and toast. They continued discussing their dreams for the future and she practically had to shove him out the door several hours later so she could prep for class. She promised to call, and she meant it. For the first time in a long time, she was excited about someone. As she washed the dishes, she noticed his coat sitting on the couch. She grabbed her phone to call him and then stopped. “I’ll surprise him,” she thought, smiling at the idea. Once Miriam got to campus, she walked to the political science department’s main office. She approached the woman sitting behind the desk.

“Hi,” Miriam said, “Do you know where I can find David Perkins?”

“Who?” the woman responded.

“David Perkins,” Miriam repeated, “He’s a TA for Professor Wilkins.”

“Professor who?” the woman said.

Miriam paused.

“Professor Wilkins? He teaches California law.”

“We don’t have a Professor Wilkins,” the woman said.

“Um,” Miriam responded, “Are you sure? Is this the only political science office?”

“This is the main office. And I’m telling you we don’t have a Professor Wilkins. Are you sure you have the right department?” the woman asked impatiently.

“Well,” Miriam said, beginning to feel sweaty and nauseous, “do you have a TA named David Perkins? He…we…I have his coat. He said he’s a TA.”

“Let me check,” the woman responded.

Miriam watched as the woman typed on her computer, clicking away at whatever was on the screen. After a moment she looked up at Miriam with what appeared to be concern.

“I can’t find a David Perkins on the TA list for any political science classes,” the woman said.

Miriam felt like she couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

 “He said he was a TA? For a Professor Wilkins? And you’re sure it was political science?” the woman’s questions made Miriam feel lightheaded.

“Honey,” the woman said, “Are you ok?”

“I…uh…yea, he said political science…I…I got to go. Thank you,” Miriam stuttered and ran out of the office.

She stood outside the political science building and felt like she was going to pass out. No David Perkins. No Professor Wilkins.

She was breathing heavily when she got to Professor Gonzalez’s office. She waited until she had calmed down and then knocked on his door.

“Come in,” a voice answered.

Miriam walked in.

“Well, hi,” the professor said smiling amiably, “I recognize you from my lecture class. You always sit in the back.”

Miriam nodded.

“So,” the professor continued, “how can I help you?”

“Um,” Miriam started, “I have an odd question.”

“Ok,” the professor responded, raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“Do you have a David Perkins registered to your class?”

The professor paused.

“I’m not sure I can answer that,” the professor finally answered.

“I recognize that, but I have a problem,” Miriam said.

She explained what had happened. How she had met David. What he had said. And that the woman working in the political science office hadn’t been able to find a David Perkins.

The professor admittedly looked concerned.

“Look,” Miriam said, “I don’t want any personal information. I don’t need his email or anything. I just want to know if that name, David Perkins, is registered in your class. Please.”

The professor sighed and then got on his computer. After a few moments the professor looked up,

“I’ve checked all my classes. No David Perkins,” the professor said gravely.

Miriam could feel the ground beneath her shift, and she sat down in the chair opposite the desk.

“Let’s discuss how you can proceed,” the professor said calmly.

Miriam and the professor hatched a plan. Since there was no David Perkins, the best idea was to confront him.

Miriam ignored all of David’s calls, of which there were many. The amount of calls and texts freaked her out so much that she decided to stay with some friends in the dorms. She didn’t feel comfortable in her apartment.

When it came time for their lecture class the following week, Miriam arrived an hour early as planned.

She sat in the front, which made her uneasy for multiple reasons, but she trusted the professor.

“How’re you feeling?” the professor asked.

“Scared,” Miriam responded.

“…Hello, David,” the professor said, with an edge in his voice.

Miriam’s whole body tensed but she forced herself to stand and turn around.

“Miriam,” David began, “I…”

David’s eyes went between Miriam and the professor, clearly panicking.

“David Perkins, right?” the professor continued, “You’re not registered for any of my classes.”

David turned to Miriam, and she saw his face go from panicked to pissed. It was terrifying.

David bolted from the room and the professor picked up his phone, immediately calling campus security. He explained the situation and they proceeded to send out mass emails with David’s face, warning other students to report him if seen.

Miriam, afraid to go back to her studio, decided it was best to just move into the dorms for the remainder of the semester.

Sometimes she thought she saw David when she was on campus, or out with friends, or walking through the nearby park or…anywhere and everywhere.

“He studied me,” she often thought, but did her best to shake it off. She couldn’t let the man destroy her life.

And to her surprise, over time, she thought about him less and less until he almost disappeared.

Almost.

Now:

How could she have forgotten his face? It was so clear to her now. Years had passed but those eyes were still the same.

“You’ve gained weight,” David said with a smirk.

Miriam continued to stare. She wanted to yell, to hit him with a chair, but her legs were stiff.

“Sit,” he commanded, and she sat.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he whispered, “You ruined my life.”

“I…I ruined your life?” Miriam stammered, incredulously.

“My face was plastered everywhere on campus,” he growled, “You made me out to be a monster.”

“You lied to me,” Miriam croaked, her voice unable to function properly.

“I loved you!” he yelled, causing other patrons to turn and stare.

“And you abandoned me,” he continued more quietly, “You think I’d ever forget that?...You think this is the first time I've followed you? This is the just the first time I've let you see me.”

Miriam felt like she was going to vomit. She hated herself. She hated women in movies or books who just stared. Who just took it. Who froze like deer with approaching headlights. But she was frozen. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, what she was hearing. Was she even awake? Was this real life?

And then he grabbed her arm and action finally took over.

She stood, shaking her arm away.

“Please call the police,” she yelled to the nearest employee, “this man is a stalker and is threatening me.”

Voices erupted all around them.

David glared.

“This woman is a liar,” he exclaimed.

Miriam kept her gaze on him, “Then stay and we can work it out when the police come.”

They looked at each other.

He eventually got up and ran from the café.

Miriam sat down, her legs feeling like jelly after her show of bravery.

The police came and she explained the situation; described David.

The police told her there wasn’t much they could do at this point.

“Just be careful,” they said, “Call us if he shows up again.”

Great.

She went back to her apartment and bolted herself in. Her apartment wasn’t that big, but she found herself checking every corner, underneath every piece of furniture, just in case.

She locked all the windows and slept with her baseball bat.

At around 4am she woke for no reason. She walked to her living room and looked out the window that faced the street.

She could’ve sworn she saw a shadow move behind the trees down below.

But it could’ve been the wind.