Chapter 7

Now that the Akemi issue was resolved, Jerry was able to spend more time thinking about Jeanine and whatever future they may have together. It had been nearly four weeks since he had met her for dinner and she had set out the conditions for their continued relationship. He was concerned that they had been apart for that time, not even in contact by telephone, and he wondered if she had given up hope. He also wondered what in the world had happened that he had even listened to an ultimatum from a woman, much less reacted to it and changed his lifestyle accordingly. This was just so contrary to his entire life. This was not the Jerome Fischer that he had known all his life--he was becoming someone else! Since when did he give a damn about what a woman thought, liked or cared about? Women were designed to have two places on this earth: underneath him in his bed, and in front of his stove. Those thoughts had occupied his mind for the first thirty eight years of his life. What's changed? Jerry would have these thoughts, bold masculine, egocentric thoughts while he sat in front of his television, alone, drinking a beer after work. And then he would think about how he had no one to talk to, or eat dinner with, or go to the movie with or do anything with and then he would think of her. She was the one that had changed everything. She was the one that had dragged him to art fairs and sail-boating and even made him try to water ski. She was the one that had insisted that they go up to that resort in the middle of no where for a week, which had turned out to be the happiest week he had ever enjoyed in his life. He wasn't really sure how all that had happened, but he knew that he could not take credit for any of it.

He tried to call her, repeatedly, but there was no answer. He tried the next morning, still no answer. He tried at noon, at three and at six, each time without results. Finally he drove to where he thought she lived, checked all of the names on the mail box nameplates, but did not see her name anywhere. Frustrated, he knocked on the supers door and asked about her, telling the super that he had a package to deliver, but could not find her anywhere. He must have been sufficiently convincing because he leaned that she had moved out the prior weekend. Unfortunately, the super had no forwarding address for her mail. By this point, Jerry was determined. This girl had upset his entire life, and now she had disappeared from it, upsetting him again.

The following morning, he parked his car on a street near her old apartment and waited for the mail carrier to deliver the mail to the building. Jerry approached the mail carrier and suggested that, given the time of day, it might be convenient to take a lunch break, and Jerry invited the mail carrier to join him for lunch at a local deli. Certainly there are rules, rules that pertain to almost everything, but when you live in a city, you realized that most rules are actually guidelines, and can be adjusted to fit a particular situation. The mail carrier was no dummy, but opted to join Jerry at the deli, if for no other reason that to find out which rule needed temporary adjustment.

They had an enjoyable lunch. Jerry had introduced himself and given the mail carrier his business card, identifying him as the owner of Harriman's General Store, and essentially giving credibility to his story about have a package to deliver to Jeanine. It was a simple rule, and only a very minor and very temporary adjustment was needed to the rule. One deli sandwich, a bag o chips and a can of soda later and Jerry had the forwarding address left by Jeanine. Thankful to the mail carrier, Jerry paid the tab and headed for his apartment. He threw some clothes onto a suitcase and quickly checked his computer for directions to the address he had received. It was obviously her hometown, because it was about a three hour drive from the city, and barely showed on the computer map at all. Jerry had it fixed in his mind that he needed to at least talk to Jeanine again and try to come to some arrangement where she would be back in his life.

The town was small alright. When he arrived, he stopped at a convenience store for more specific directions to her house.

"Who wants to know?"

"What do you mean? I do."

"So, who are you? How do I know they want to see you?"

"You don't. What's it matter?"

"Maybe they don't want any visitors."

"Look, are you gonna tell me or not?"

"Nope. You seem pretty suspicious to me. You must be from the city, coming in here all in a huff and wantin' to know all this personal stuff."

Jerry left, without any directions, thinking it wouldn't help is cause if he beat the clerk to smithereens. He drove around the little town, but there were no street signs. Finally he saw a woman walking down the sidewalk. He parked his car and walked to her. "Pardon me, ma'am. Could you help me? I'm trying to find this address, but there don't seem to be any street signs."

"Whacha want at the Redmond's place?"

"I'm trying to find a young woman that lives there."

"You the fella from the city that broke her heart?"

Holy cow, Jerry thought. Does everybody in this little burg know who I am? What's going on here? "My name is Jerry Fischer, ma'am."

"So are you the fella?"

"Yes, ma'am, I guess I am."

"So why are you here? You here to make up or have another fight?"

Jerry rolled his eyes. Was his life now everybody's business? "I didn't know we'd had a fight. I just want to talk to her."

"If I tell you how to get there, you better not hurt her again. We don't take too kindly to you city guys hurtin' our young girls.

Jerry rolled his eyes and hook his head. What the hell kind of town was this?

"Don't be rollin' your eyes thinkin' I'm daffy, mister. I'm warnin' you about this, so ya better listen. Don't hurt her, or we 'll come lookin' for you."

"I'm not going to hurt her. I just want to talk to her. I promise."

She finally gave him directions to her house. It was in the country, about three miles from the edge of town, and Jerry decided that he would never have found it without her assistance. As he pulled down the driveway, he saw two young men standing near the house. He remembered that she had told him on their first evening together that she had two younger brothers. In his mind, he had seen them to be young teens. The two men standing in the driveway were at least twenty, both at least six feet sin inches tall, and both at least three hundred pounds. One of them was holding an older wooden baseball bat in his hand. He stopped the car short of them, since they were standing in the driveway blocking his further progress.