“So,” he asked, opening the car door for me. “Where is the best pizza in Dubuque?”
“Oh, easy. Happy Joe’s.”
“Happy Joe’s it is then.”
Bryan circled the vehicle and got in. When he twisted the key in the ignition music blasted out of the speakers and he fumbled to turn it down.
“Sorry,” he said with an embarrassed grin. “I like it loud when I’m alone.”
“No prob. I do the same thing,” I replied. “What group is this?”
“It’s my cousin’s band, Crescendo. He’s the drummer. They play small venues in the Portland and Seattle areas. This is their demo.”
“Not bad,” I said bobbing my head a bit with the beat.
I directed Bryan to the pizza place. We ordered my favorite, half taco/half BLT. Bryan cringed when I told him the BLT side used mayo in place of pizza sauce, but his attitude changed once he took a bite.
“I’m not a vegetarian exactly,” I explained, plucking the sausage bits off of my slice, “I just don’t really like meat very much. It’s a taste thing more than a moral thing.”
“So you don’t eat steak?”
I shook my head. “Nope. I tried a bite of my dad’s once, but didn’t care for it.”
“More for me, I guess.” He reached for his second slice. “I’m not picky with food at all. My mother is the must-clean-your-plate type. I learned a long time ago that if I didn’t want to end up having my dinner for breakfast the next morning, I better get it over with and eat it while it’s fresh.”
We chatted easily through dinner, but when Bryan got up to order us some ice cream sundaes, Jinx cropped back up into my mind. All through dinner I had been trying to pay attention to my emotions and the people around me, but I couldn’t tell if I was reading people right. In the car, Bryan had seemed nervous, but I wasn’t picking any of that up from him now. In general, I was feeling happy and calm. How did I know that was my real feelings or if they were coming from someone else near me? What kind of range did this empathy thing have anyway?
Across the dining room, I spotted a toddler who was throwing some kind of tantrum. His face was red and he wailed at the top of his lungs. The young mother kept trying to shove ice cream in his mouth to shut him up, but all that did was cause melted ice cream drool to run down his chin and neck. It gave me an idea for an experiment.
I checked on Bryan and saw he was still waiting to place our order. I stood and started walking toward the little boy, going slowly enough that I could concentrate on any feelings I might be able to pick up from him, yet fast enough so that it would look like I was casually heading toward the restroom.
Twenty feet from the boy and I felt nothing.
At fifteen feet, I bent down to pretended to tie my shoe. The feelings of general happiness were faded, but I wasn’t necessarily picking up on anything negative. I stood up and began walking forward again.
At ten feet, I stopped next to an empty table and picked up the menu lying on it. A stirring began in my belly that had nothing to do with the pizza I’d just ate. My face started to heat up and uneasiness crept over me. As I pretended to be checking the specials, I concentrated on the cool waves of feeling I was getting from the toddler’s direction. There was anger and frustration…a little bit of discomfort too. Of course, the frustration could have been coming from the mother also, who was digging in her diaper bag for something to appease her child.
Just as I was setting the menu down to step closer, a freezing jolt shot through me as the boy lifted his fork and threw it as hard as he could onto the floor where it bounced and landed a few feet in front of me. A clear and distinct shock of rage ran through my body and settled somewhere deep inside me. I gasped audibly. The mother apologized as she came over to retrieve the fork, but I could only nod with my mouth hanging open dumbly.
Oh. My. God. Jinx was right. I guess up until that moment I hadn’t fully believed her, but standing there with my head throbbing with a cold headache and my nerves on edge, I had to admit there was something weird going on. The little boy watched me with big brown eyes, his rosy cheeks tear stained and drool running from his lower lip. He didn’t feel as upset anymore. I guess throwing the fork got whatever it was out of his system. The mother glanced up at me and flashed a wave of embarrassment mixed with confusion. I pivoted and returned to our table.
I buried my face on my hands, squeezing my eyes shut so hard I could see spots swimming in the blackness. What does this mean? What am I supposed to do now? I didn’t want to go through life experiencing the emotions of everyone around me! How am I supposed to go into a crowded situation like a concert or a movie theater ever again without turning into a complete head-case? Oh, no. How am I going to be able to handle school? A groan escaped the back of my throat.