King of the Jungle

King of the Jungle

Brian never knew exactly what it was about him that made people react the way they did.  Perhaps it was the fact that he had red hair or the fact that he played the cello in his free time, but he couldn't quite figure it out.  For some strange reason people had less of an inkling to believe in the things that he did and today was no different from the rest.

He was studious in grammar school and high school always getting perfect grades.  He was awarded a full scholarship to a semi-prestigious university where he dormed with the captain of the math club and faithfully attended his 'Right to Abstinence' club meeting bi-weekly.  He wrote frequent letters to his parents at home, Martha and Jake, and often volunteered on the weekends at the emergency animal hospital in town.  He would often walk by stumbling co-eds drunk and wreckless as he finished his shift in the wee hours of the morning.  Some would say that Brian might be a little bit on the 'weird' side but he merely thought of himself as a peaceful soul who treasured moments of solitude and helping those who might be less fortunate than himself.

Then, he met Jessa.

It was a little past seven o'clock as he pulled the door to his dorm closed--firmly enough to ensure a reassuring sound of "pfft" as it securely shut yet gentle enough as to not wake his neighbors.  He gingerly stepped into his loafers, which he had carefully placed next to his Jesus Welcomes You mat and carefully turned to shuffle softly down the stairs.  He was wearing a pair of smart beige slacks and a kelly green polo that he had neatly tucked into the waistband.  His loafers, a complimentary brown, matched his belt exactly and his hair was neatly combed into what could only be identified as a Beaver-cleaver type of hairdo.  The sun beamed down as he exited from underneath the awning of the townhouse that he dormed in and rays of sunshine played amidst the waves of bright red hair that he was known best for.  A dark cloud loomed overhead and Brian looked up, squinty-eyed, to catch a large hawk flying over him peering down on the land below, probably looking for his breakfast.  Brian stopped in his tracks and shaded his eyes as he continued to watch the hawk circling over him.  He admired the flawless way it flew from side to side, cutting the air smoothly as it searched for a helpless mouse or small bird to feed on.   He watched it for a few more seconds as it started to fly further south, away from his vision and casting its cloud elsewhere, closer to the center of campus, and then began making his own trek, to his first destination.

Asian Cultural Studies taught by Professor Beantwick was one of Brian's favorite classes.  He scurried into Remsen Hall just at quarter past seven to ensure that he would get a front row seat in the lecture hall because he knew that sitting in the back would almost ensure being completely ignored by the Professor and losing out on the chance to participate in a highly stimulating conversation.  Brian was well aware that he was not a typical college student and he thrived on that.  He knew that many of his classmates were merely there to take the course as part of their electives and most showed up to class hungover or high.   Those who did not fall into that category were either daydreamers or drifters, who were merely going through the motions of college in order to please their parents.    Brian was pleased to have these types of students as his peers because it offered him the opportunity to stand out.  He wasn't particularly good looking nor was he ever a jock, but being a good and proper student allotted him the chance to have a group to belong to, albeit a small and lonely one, but nevertheless, he belonged to one.

Room 202 was visibly lit as Brian turned the hall on his heels.  He whistled a light, joyful tune as he turned the corner, eager to find his seat before the 7:45am start time when he stopped in his tracks.  There, in the very front row of the lecture hall was a slight, girl with a pixie haircut and a long feather-like earring dangling from one ear.  Her back was to him and he couldn't quite make out what her face looked like, but from the back of her head, he couldn't quite place who she was and he was always very good about distinguishing who was in his class by certain little trademarks, surely he would have remembered the pixie haircut or at the very least, the feather earring.  He stood there quietly, trying not to make too much noise so that he could continue observing her when she cleared her throat.

"I know you are back there" she said without turning.

He looked quickly from left to right searching for something to do as some sort of alibi.  He awkwardly bent over as if to pick up an imaginary piece of paper.  

"Oh, I just dropped something" he stuttered.

She lifted her head in a half nod as if to say 'yeah right' and then sighed, "Well did you pick it up?"

He looked down at his empty hand which was clamped shut as if it were indeed clutching an invisible piece of paper and he nodded his head up and down.  

"Good. Then come down here. I'm lonely."

Suddenly he felt beads of sweat frolicking along his hairline and his hands felt clammy.  He forced himself to unclutch the one and take a deep breath as he made his way down the stairs to the very first row.  As he approached it, she turned sideways to look and he could finally make out her face.  She was definitely not a regular student nor was she someone that he recognized.  He quickly registered that she must be a new admit, desperate to fill her requirements and be done with it.  For, by the looks of her, she didn't seem someone who was quite serious at all.  Her hair, cut short like a pixie, had one long strand that hung over her right eye and that was tainted a crimson color.  Her features were angular, but pretty.  Her eyes an almond shaped and her skin the color of coffee, made light and sweet.  Her nose jutted out in a bird like manner and she had a tiny stud on the left nostril.  Her lips were full and adorned with a little diamond stud that sat perfectly underneath the curve of her bottom lip.  Her neck, was bare, save for a little bird tattoo that was almost hidden by the large feather earring that she wore in her ear.   He came around, to get a closer look and he could see she was looking at him, but not quite observing him the way he was her.   She wore an off the shoulder light pink, faded sweatshirt that had obviously been custom made by her and a pair of scissors during a stormy, rainy night when she was probably bored and feeling creative.  She wore a pair of loose fitting jeans that were rolled up to the shin and a pair of black boots whose laces were undone and haphazardly hanging to the floor.  

"I'm Jessa" she said.

He quickly looked up from the boots to her face, and saw her smirking at him.  Her voice was soft and sweet, which he thought was ironic compared to how she looked.  He went to answer her and then realized his face had been contorted into a look that could only be described as if he were smelling something bad.

"I'm..."

"Brian. I know."  

He shifted his weight to one side, carefully looking at her again.  Did he know her?

"You don't know me" she answered, as if reading his mind.

"How did you know my name?"

She paused.  "I just...did."

She patted the empty seat next to her motioning for him to sit.  He obliged, setting his school sack on the left side of him on the next available chair.

"Are you new?" he asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

"You could say that.  I've been around, just never in this class."

"I see" he paused and then continued, "do you have an interest in Asian history?"

She stopped then, as if contemplating and turned to look at him in the eye.  Her eyes were a delicate mixture of browns and greens, swimming together as if they were a pool of oil and street water left behind by an old Pontiac that had been parked in the same spot for days.   He looked deep into them, searching for a sign of mischief, but found that he could only focus on the color...and the warmth in them.

"I have an interest...but not in Asian history Brian."

A chill registered down his spine.  An internal urging that something was amiss yet he found himself transfixed and glued to his seat.  He gulped.  She continued.

"I took this class because I was hoping to find you Brian.  I have heard that you are....let's say...different."

He looked at her, unclear of what her intentions were.

"From who?" he asked.

"Those minor details aren't really important Brian.  I know that I look different from you, but the reality is, I am more similar to you than you think.  We have a lot of the same values and morals, and to be perfectly honest, it's refreshing to know that there are others out there whom aren't doomed to a life of sinning and imperfection."

He felt a sense of warmth build up inside of him and he turned to look away, afraid that the blush in his face would give it away that he was feeling rather complimented by her words.  He always prided himself on being different and unique, but he had to admit that it felt good to have someone who might feel the same way.  Especially someone......so beautiful.

She sensed his embarassment and set her delicate hand on his arm.  He turned to look at her beautifully tanned skin against his alabaster white arm and took notice of her fingernails which were long and painted a deep red, like the color of blood.  He looked up at her and saw that she was smiling again, this time more deeply and the twinkle in her eyes suggested that her eyes were smiling as well.  He felt himself flush.  She took a fingernail and traced his cheek starting from the side by his right eye down to his chin.  There, she grabbed his chin delicately between his hands and brought his face close to her own, so close that he could feel her warm breath coming out from between her carefully parted lips.  She smelt of mint and flowers, all rolled into one, and he closed his eyes to inhale her deeply as she took that as a sign to kiss him deeply.

For a first kiss, it was everything that he could imagine it would be.  Soft and sensual with a hint of urgency.  He always imagined that he would feel dirty during and immediately after his first kiss, but instead he felt a lightness inside of him and a feeling of hope.  After what seemed like an eternity, but only a few seconds in reality, she pulled away from him, her eyes searching for a response.   He looked at her intensely.

"I'm sorry" she replied, when he remained quiet.

He paused. Regretful.  "Don't be. It was perfect."

She smiled.  

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for his moment Brian" she sighed and continued, "it feels like forever that I've been wanting to connect with you Brian."

She squeezed his hand and he looked down at how perfectly their hands fit together.  He smiled, enjoyng the moment.  

"I've been waiting too" was all he could reply in his haze of happiness.

"I'm so glad you feel that way” and suddenly he could feel something coming. She looked up at the clock and he followed her gaze. It was half past seven.

“I don’t know how much longer we have together Brian” 

Tears began welling up in her eyes. He looked at her, confused by what she meant and she continued.

“You know, deep down, that people like us are outcasts, right?”

He thought about it for a moment and then nodded in agreement. She was right. 

“We do our work. We praise the Lord. We do the right things but no one recognizes that in this hateful, disgusting world. Instead, they focus on irrelevant things, material things, sinful things.”

His heart soared, thinking of all the times that he prayed for a woman who would understand him and would understand, what others thought of as old-fashioned ways in this crazy, modern world.

"You are right Jessa, you are so right." 

She looked hopeful again, her mouth smiling and gushing all at once, "God Brian, I love you so much"  She reached over again and this time, kissed him with an intensity that cause him to feel something that he normally deemed immoral and unGodly.  Yet now, he embraced the sensation and gave way to his yearning, clutching her by her  upper arms and drawing her close to him, sucking in her sweet mint breath and eating up her words.

She forced herself to push back, breathing in broken breaths.

"We don't have time."

He wasn't sure why she was so hell bent on the time, but he looked again at the clockand this time it read 7:35.  He looked back into her face and suddenly she seemed worried and anxious.  He touched her teach gently and she cuddled her face into the nook of his palm.

"I will take care of you, no matter what" he reassured her, "now tell me what it is you need me to do."

She smiled then, and reached over to him, whispering into his ear as time ticked on.

Daphne looked at her cellphone again: 7:52am.

 "Shit" she muttered under her breath as she dashed through the empty halls of Remsen.  She hurried to make it to room 202, bracing herself for the lashing that the Professor was sure to give her as she walked in late.  The Professor did not tolerate lateness well and considering this was Daphne's 3rd time late this semester, she was sure he was going to humiliate her in order to "teach her a lesson".  She nearly knocked into the closed door as she stumbled to catch her composure when she burst through the door and someone set off a round of fireworks, as if celebrating her entrance.  She stopped in her tracks, trying to gauge where the noise was coming from and when she noticed students looking directly at her, she tried to turn around and see if the culprit had been in back of her all along.

Brian watched as the smoke cleared and the young cheerleader at the top of the stairs stumbled, first forward and then backward.  He couldn't quite hear any of the noise, or screaming or chaos that ensued because there was a ringing sound pulsating in his ear and he wasn't sure about how to react as he held the gun straight in front of him, in the direct line of fire of Daphne Bristol.  It wasn't his intention but the way she cae into the hall startled him. So instead, he turned to his left, searching for those eyes...those pools of oil...their sense of pride and accomplishment.  Surely, Jessa would know how to comfort him in a time of uncertainity...in a time of fear.  Afterall, he had done this for her.  To show them all that being different didn't mean being invisible and that those who led a righteous life, had to be heard.  She had encouraged him to shout out those words right before he pulled the trigger.  And now, as he searched for her, searched for her feather earring in a sea full of blood and screams, he looked at her seat, only to find........that it was empty.