I decided to post something original for once, instead of complaining about movies. So here goes. It’s not much of anything. I don’t even know what it’s about. I’ll save the inspiration and background until the end.
On with the show…
EDIT: There’s a gimmick near the latter half where I use images to represent a text message conversation. It’s not ideal on small screen mobile devices. For the best reading experience, I recommend desktop or tablet.
We moved to Portage, Michigan, in May of 1999, one month shy of my twelfth birthday. It was the third such move in my grade school career. Through the years I’ve heard from others, with a similar migratory background, that making friends was hard. Not for me. I was an old pro at it by this point.
As my parents and the movers brought in the last of the furniture, I scouted the neighborhood for other kids. That’s when I ran into Max. Max was my age and seemed to be into all the same things as me, that is to say, all the same shit every other suburban boy was into in the summer of 1999. But Max was cool, and open to getting to know the new kid in town.
Max and I were deep in some conversation, probably about Pokémon or Star Wars, when I first saw Max’s aunt, Cat. Cat was nineteen then, or maybe twenty, far too young to be someone’s aunt, right? My aunts were all my parents’ age, forty or fifty at least. Of course, they weren’t really that old, but to my eleven-year-old mind, all adults were so old there was no point in keeping track anymore.
Cat wasn’t old though. Cat was simply older. A bit too old for me, perhaps? Time would tell.
She stepped out from the open garage and into the sun, her olive skin glistening in the late afternoon sun. As she raised her arms to pull her mess of tight chestnut curls into a ponytail, her loose shirt came up, revealing her flat, athletic abdomen.
“Hey, Max.” She said. “Thanks for bringing in the garbage cans last night.”
Max looked at her confused. “I didn’t bring them in.”
“Yeah, I know.” She scoffed. “And your dad got on my case about it. So, thanks for that, you little prick.”
“Hey, Chris.” Max said to me. “This is my skanky aunt, Catalina.”
“Shut your mouth, you little creep!” She barked. “Hey there, handsome. You with the family moving in at 1140?”
Handsome. That’s what she said, right?
“Yes. I said, a squeak in my voice. “I’m Chris—topher.”
“Chris—topher? Sounds like some kind of European techno musician. Nice to meet you, Chris—topher.”
“N—nice to meet you, Catalina.” I fumbled out.
“Please, call me Cat. No need to be so formal.” She then turned to Max. “I’m off for a run. I probably won’t be back for dinner, let your mom know the cabbage rolls are prepped and in the fridge. She just needs to heat them.”
“Whatever.” Max said, dismissively.
Cat winked at me, then set off, at something between a jog and a run.
“Dude, that’s your aunt?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Max said. “She’s gross though.”
I guess he would say that, because they’re related, but as for me, I was in love.
May 17th, 1999
Talked to mom today. She didn’t have much to say to me. I didn’t even broach the subject of coming back home. I think that door is closed for good. She said dad was out, but I’m pretty sure I heard him grumbling around.
To add to that, George is on my case about paying my share. He lined up an interview where he works, but I can’t tie myself down to a desk pushing papers and getting people coffee. Not for nine hours a day, plus a commute, it would cut too deep into my training time. Nikki has my back for now though, but I don’t know how much longer I can freeload here.
I’m almost back to match fitness. A little tightness in my left calf still after about three miles. It’s not like I usually need to run that much, but I still don’t want it to develop into an injury.
Met Laura at the mall. As far as Nikki and George knew I was still out training the whole evening. Laura didn’t seem too eager to talk about what happened, but I finally coaxed her into it. It was nobody’s fault, I guess, but she’s in no hurry to tell her parents what happened and get into the same shit situation I’m in.
We’ll figure it out, eventually.
Adam and Rich met us a little later. They wanted to see that new Star Wars movie. It was kind of like a double date in the end. What a stinker that movie was. Why do they even like that stuff? There was some kind of stupid duck-rabbit man, and an annoying kid. It was so booooring. I left to use the bathroom right as some kind of flying car race started. Came back fifteen minutes later and it was still going. There were little teddy bears in the last one. Bring them back. And I think the teenage girl was supposed to be Princess Leia’s mom? Who cares? Just bring back Princess Leia!
Speaking of annoying kids, Max has a new friend. I didn’t catch his name, I think he might be, what’s the nice way to say it… slow? He just kind of stared at me, never said a word. Max can be a little shit, but it’s sweet of him to make friends with someone that weird.
I ran by the house he was moving into and talked to his parents for a minute. Really nice people. Sounds like they moved here specifically to put that weird kid in some special school.
Everyone deserves a fair chance.
My birthday came and went. I was now a mature man of twelve years old. Max and I were inseparable. Of course, I had tons of other friends, but I could only see Cat if I went by Max’s house.
I was careful not to ask after her, because I didn’t want my infatuation to be so obvious, but on this particular day, I knew she was inside taking a shower. Don’t get any sick ideas, I wasn’t about to feign a reason to go into the house and then burst into the bathroom “accidentally”. Why would you even come up with that idea? I didn’t come up with it. I wasn’t thinking I’d do that at all.
Even at that young age I was a perfect gentleman.
Max and I were in the yard tossing around the frisbee when he let loose, and the disc went clear over my head and around the corner of the house. I darted after it, picked it up, and then as my gaze drifted back toward the front, my eyes caught sight of something through the window of Cat’s room. There she was half dressed, visible only through a crack in the curtains.
Shamefully, I stared for a moment, but then she saw me. Our eyes locked. The world seemed to slow to a crawl, all outside sensations, but my vision, dimmed to nothing.
She reached back, unlatched her bra and slipped it off, quick to cover her breasts with her other arm. Tossing the bra aside she brought her other hand back to cup each breast as she sauntered toward the window. Lost on me was the fact she was moving to the rhythm of the music playing. At last, she uncovered her breasts, then slowly pushed her hands down her stomach to the edge of her panties, where she dipped each thumb in, and slowly pushed them down. I can distinctly remember every second, and every detail, and I am sad to report I saw little more than the top half of her pubic region.
Finally she winked, blew me a kiss, slammed the window shut, and then pulled the curtains all the way.
My mind was blown. My life would never be the same.
July 22nd, 1999
I got the job at Borders!!! The interview went so well they offered me the job right on the spot. George was super happy when I told him, and then not-so-casually dropped a numeric figure that would be appropriate for me to contribute to the household. Nikki was quick to jump in and tell me there was no hurry to start contributing, that I should get on my feet with the job first.
It’s such a relief. I still don’t know if I can find a roster spot out west in the fall. So, I might end up having to winter here. If I miss out on that, the chances of getting noticed by the national scouts goes to basically zero. I should probably just enroll in a school out that way… As if I could afford that.
Laura and Rich met me right after my interview and we decided to see a movie to celebrate my unexpected success. The movie was The Blair Witch Project. I’ve never been so freaked out. Rich said it was all faked, but it said right there in the movie it was real! Maybe I can convince Max to show me how to look it up on the Internet whether it was real or not.
There was a preview for some new Brad Pitt movie, where I think he’s a boxer or something? Virtually every woman in that theater let out an audible quiver when they showed him with his shirt off… and so did Rich. It was kind of funny… and maybe a little gross?
But, that wasn’t the grossest thing of the day. While I was getting ready for my interview, Max’s weird little friend was standing at the window watching me get dressed. I didn’t notice him for a minute, I was way too stressed out about what to wear. When I finally did see him, I ran over to close the window and the curtains.
What a little perv.
I’m being too hard, I know. He’s just a little kid, and he was just standing there like a deer in headlights. I can’t imagine he was actually peeping on me. Maybe he heard the music and came by to see where it was coming from.
I’ll cut him some slack this time. Not like he saw anything too scintillating.
Things were awkward around Cat the next few times we met over the summer. It’s like neither of us wanted to talk about what happened. But it did happen. We connected. It meant something.
A week or so before school started, I was over by Max and we were chasing each other with Super Soakers. We ran into the backyard and there Cat was, lounging on a deck chair, like a bronze goddess in a bikini, one leg propped up, reading a book. I stopped dead in my tracks as my brain focused on the beads of sweat trickling down her raised calf.
“Hey, Cat.” I said.
She lowered her sunglasses and smiled at me “Hey there, Chris—topher.”
She remembered the weird way I said my name before.
“I heard you got a job at the bookstore.” I said, looking down at my feet, but coyly glancing up so I could keep staring at her. It was a brutally hot day, but from my vantage point she looked a little chilly, if you catch my meaning.
“That’s right. You should come by some time. I get so bored at work, it would be fun to have someone to talk to.”
I finally looked up to meet her radiant gaze. “Yeah, I think I will.”
Just then Max doused me with water, and I had no choice but to return fire and continue the game.
“Later, sweetie.” She said, as I ran after him back around to the front of the house.
And that was the last time I saw her. I never did go see her at work. And she was always busy working or out running that I never saw her at Max’s house again. And since I had to go to a different school than Max, I rarely had time to hang out and see him. Max told me in early October she left for California. I was heartbroken.
August 19th, 1999
Just heard from that semi-pro team in San Diego. They need another goalie. Hey, it’s better than nothing, and it’s definitely better than winter in Michigan. I won’t leave until October when they start training. There’s so much buzz after the World Cup that there are rumors swirling that a real professional league might form soon. I need to get in on this.
Now to tell Laura… I have no idea if she’ll come with me. I don’t know why she’d want to stay here.
I should see if there’s a Borders near where we’ll be playing. It would be nice if they could put in a word for me and I could just transfer there. Not like I’ll be getting paid to play, not enough to live on anyway.
Maybe I should also start looking for a place to live?
No way, I’m pretty good at mooching off people. Just ask my brother-in-law. I’ll find some teammates to room with. I’m pretty handy in the kitchen and I have a wonderful singing voice to make up for the rest of my economic shortcomings.
It’ll work out.
Working out reminds me. I was exercising in the back yard when Max and his weird friend ran in with their water guns. I haven’t had any interaction with him since he was peeping on me. I wanted to casually let him know I wasn’t holding a grudge. I tried talking to him, but he just kind of stood there again. Then without saying a word he ran off.
Haha, I’ve scarred the poor boy for life, it seems!
It’s difficult to find out what happened to someone when you don’t actually know their name, and are too afraid to wring that information out of your friend. Cat was Max’s mom’s sister, so of course she didn’t have the same last name as Max.
Nevertheless, I tried searching for Cat over the years. I heard she was playing soccer in California. So, every once in a while, I would search for lady soccer players. In 2003 I saw a website for a league of professional women’s soccer. I found a player on a San Diego named Catalina Moculescu, but there were no pictures. I clung on to that name, and as various sites emerged where you could look people up, I confirmed, with some feeling of accuracy, I had the right name.
To my dismay she kept a low online profile. The few times I thought I did find the right person, I’d try to send a message, but never heard back. Facebook really changed that. I connected again with Max and sometime in late 2008 I saw a Catalina Moculescu wish him a happy birthday and tell him to “come by the bar” next time he’s home for a legal drink.
Not only was it her, but she was back in Portage.
2008 hadn’t exactly been a great year for recent graduates like me. The job I had lined up in Chicago didn’t pan out, and so in the summer of 2009 I found myself back home with my parents. Just for a bit, you know. Until I got some things figured out.
Max was living in Houston, and I couldn’t bring myself to ask him what bar his aunt worked at. I mean, not that I was going back home to find her. That’s not what was going on here. But I did frequent a lot of bars that summer.
I was about ready to give up when I found myself in a place called The Tap on Main in Kalamazoo. The place was dim, and the air was choked with cigarette smoke, something I was still getting used to about living back in Michigan.
At first, I didn’t notice her through the cancerous haze, but then the air cleared, and a beacon of light shone down upon her. She was probably only 30, at this point, barely older than me, all things considered, and was still youthful as ever with the same athletic build.
When my waitress came back, I told her I wasn’t hungry and that I’d just head to the bar. When Cat finally came over by me it took her a moment, and finally she said “Oh my God. Chris—topher?” and then burst out laughing.
“Shit, you recognize me?” I asked.
“How on Earth could I forget you?” she said, and then hurried around the bar to come over and give me a hug. It wasn’t just a hug. It was the warmest hug anyone had ever given me. At least twice I started to relax my hold, but she clung to me, and I renewed my grip on her. After what seemed like ten minutes she finally relaxed when someone playfully barked “Hey, you lovebirds, can I get a refill over here?”
Cat gestured to the person calling out then ran behind the bar to pour his drink.
For the rest of the night we chatted for long stretches between her dealing with customers. We chatted about everything and nothing really. We were just happy to be in each other’s company again.
I can’t even say what time I arrived, but I can tell you the bar closed at 2 AM, because that’s when we left together. I didn’t need to say anything, we both understood where this was going. She was renting an apartment just west of the university, and that’s where we went. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other as we burst through the door into her place.
Before we lunged into the bedroom, I said something that I had been meaning to say for a decade. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you. I never could.”
It was the most beautiful night of my life.
Covered in sick. Barely able to stand. How did I get here? I had a beautiful night with Cat, didn’t I? But I’m back at the bar. Some man is jabbering at me. “You’ve had too much, pal.”
I wave him away and head to the bathroom. I can almost make out the sign. I pause, leaning against the wall to keep my balance. I glance over as if it will help direct my momentum in the way I need to move to get off the wall. I catch a glimpse through the door of the employee breakroom.
It’s Cat. She’s there. Her shirt comes off. I stare. Not because I’m drunk and can’t move. Not because I’m aroused. I stare because she deserves it. All those months she teased me. Lead me astray. Lead me here. And here I am now. Broken. Begging for her to right that wrong, and she pushed me away.
That’s how it went, didn’t it? We didn’t make love. She pushed me away. She called me a filthy scumbag, didn’t she?
What a bitch.
I hate her.
And so, this is my revenge. I’m going to watch her, the way I watched her all those years ago. She can’t take this from me.
She owes me this much.
And that’s the story.
A little funny, a little disturbing, maybe a little kinky? If you’re a degenerate fool.
The inspiration came during a conversation with some friends where I remarked that a particular person (a public figure, not someone we know) looked like someone’s way-too-older sister or way-too-young aunt. Not in any cruel or demeaning way. There was just something about her overall aesthetic that gave off a vibe.
What transpired was a back and forth exercise where one friend and I imagined a raunchy 80s boner-comedy scenario where this pre-teen boy spied on his friend’s adult aunt/sister getting changed. But then I had a dark idea; what if he was just imagining this and the reality was as creepy as that situation really would be? The friend extrapolated it out further to the two re-connecting as adults and the same scenario unfolds. Him imagining one thing, and the reality being something quite depressing.
I decided to take the idea and flesh it out into something a little more concrete. Though I still don’t really know what the point is. Maybe it was just an exploration of unrequited obsessions and people who can’t let go of them? A reflection on popular fiction where people are still hung-up on someone they knew decades ago, when the reality is, most of us just move on and may not even remember that person?
As I started imagining who the Catalina person was, her entire life story just unfolded in my mind. Somehow, she just manifested into a fully formed human being. If you asked me to tell you more about her, I could do that. Who were her parents? Why is she living with her sister? What did she do between the last time Chris saw her and the next? Why did she end up back in Michigan? It’s all upstairs. Many of these life details are dropped into the story with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but I never claimed to be tactful.
Finding Chris was harder. I was maybe three drafts in before I found a way to make him a little more sympathetic, the hint that he has to go to a special school and his parents are moving around trying to find some place that can help him. What does that mean? I don’t know. He’s not dangerous, outside of some naughty curiosity, but he has some behavioral health challenges. Challenges he’s still not over in his adult life.
That’s it. That’s the whole stupid thing.
Thanks for reading!
Armchair Screenwriter 