Conversations With Jack & Diane
Hidden Pain
The old high school auditorium spread out wide and empty, it’s
rows of hardwood seats gleaming dully in the low gloam of memory.
Jack sat in “his” chair, row thirteen, thirteenth seat from
the aisle. Even as a young man he had enjoyed tempting fate.
In the soft easy light of the quiet surroundings his mind
flooded with recollection. Surprisingly, most were warm and
easily recalled.
“Audio Visual Monitor,” he whispered, smiling as he
remembered.
“What was that mister?” asked a soft, smooth voice.
Jack chuckled. “You do love sneaking-up on me, don’t
you?” He turned, squinting his eyes as he searched for the familiar
form. From out of the shadows Diane materialized, her face
sprinkled with a beautiful smile.
“God,” she gasped, her voice raspy with whisper. “This
place sure stimulates the old memories, huh?” She sat next to
Jack. Twelfth seat in from the aisle.
“Tell me about it,” Jack nodded. “I was just thinking about
my days as audio visual monitor in this place.” He shook his head,
smiling again.
Diane laughed softly, the warmth of Jack touching her
gently as she settled into her seat.
“You never told me you were a nerd...” she giggled. “Just
kidding,” she softened.
“I prefer the term, Socially Challenged,” Jack laughed,
nudging her playfully. “Besides,” he pointed out. “A nerd never
got any dates...”
Diane stared at him for a moment. “And I suppose you had
a date every weekend, huh?”
“Everyday, if I wanted one,” he assured her.
“Yeah right,” she chuckled, looking toward the front of the
eerily silent auditorium. “God,” she whispered. “Dark stages still
scare the hell out of me.”
“Wanna tell me about it?” Jack queried. Diane just smiled,
sinking a little in her seat. “I’ll have to be back there later,” he
shrugged. “Once the reunion festivities get underway. I’ll
be...Guess what?”
“Don’t tell me Jack,” Diane smiled, her indigo eyes still
on the stage.”
“That’s right,” he laughed. “I got shanghied into the audio
visual trade again.” He folded his arms across his chest. “I just
can’t win.” He pouted silently.
Diane leaned toward him and kissed his shadowed face
tenderly. “I’ll be here for you poor baby,” she teased, although she
meant what she said.
“You’ll come back stage and help me?” he asked
hopefully.
“No!” Diane shook her head, suddenly sullen.
“What’s the matter love?” Jack asked, his expression
tightening behind the gloom.
Diane’s lips parted, but no words came forth.
“Are you alright love?” Jack pressed, sitting forward in his
seat, old #13/13.
There were tears slowly trailing down her cheeks. Jack
held her hand.
“Wanna talk about it?” he asked causciously.
Diane stared at the cold, dark stage. “I don’t know if I
can...” she whispered heavily.
“Well you don’t have to sweetie. We can talk about
something else.” He leaned back in his seat, searching his brain
for a topic.
Diane took a deep breath. “It happened when I was in high
school,” she offered slowly, the words barely audible, her green
eyes locked on some distant memory. Jack sat silently, waiting
patiently as his friend prepared herself for a catharsic journey.
“I was in the auditorium.” Her gaze swept across the great
room. “Quite similar to this one actually,” she explained, her eyes
settling on the distant memory again, her lips trembling slightly.
Jack said nothing, his face lost in the shadows. He listened
attentively, his hand moving to Diane’s. She continued, her voice
a near whisper.
“I was doing some last minute stuff on the set.” She shook
her head slowly, smiling. “Romeo and Juliet...” she offered.
“One of my favs...” Jack announced softly.
“It use to be my very favorite,” Diane assured him,
squeezing his hand as she continued. “Until Romeo proved
himself to be a treacherous pig!” Her voice rose to a high whisper,
venomly inflected. Still Jack didn’t push. He let Diane settle
down. He watched the torment wreck her expression. He felt the
pain that burned in her thoughts.
“I was only fifteen. He was eighteen. A senior. Big man
on campus.” She snickered sardonically. “You know the type...”
“Indeed,” Jack assured her. He squeezed her hand gently.
“You don’t have to go on love. I can figure the rest.”
Diane nodded slowly, her eyes heavy with sorrow. “I need
to go on Jack. Will you listen?”
“Of course,” he whispered, his own emotions roiling deep
inside the pit of his stomach. He would hate Romeo forever more.
“He raped me Jack. Tore the clothes from my body and
raped me...” She couldn’t help herself, the tears flowed down
across her tormented face.
“Oh Diane,” Jack offered painfully, pulling her close. “I
wish I could help you. I wish I could take your pain and lay it far
away.”
She spoke into the crook of his neck as she leaned against
him, her breath hot on his skin.
“The rape wasn’t the worse part,” she whispered, sobbing
with renewed fervor. Jack gently stroked her hair. Minutes passed
in silence, the warmth of their love for each other finally calming
Diane a little.
She held her position against Jack, the left side of her face
still warm against his neck and chest.
“I was the last girl he raped...” she tried to explain.
“You mean he’s still in jail?” Jack probed, unable to
control his need to know.
“Of a sort,” Diane whispered, fiddling absently with one of
the buttons on Jack’s shirt.
“I don’t understand?” Jack intoned gently.
“Would you consider Hell a jail?” Diane posed.
Jack sat up, holding Diane at arms length. “You mean he’s
dead?”
Diane nodded, her blue eyes falling away from Jack’s
frowning gaze.
“I killed him...” she breathed. “I killed him that very
night.”
Jack’s lips formed the word, “what?”, but his voice eluded
him. Diane caught the drift of his confusion and continued.
“There was a spear on the set. A wooden spear.” She
swallowed hard and leaned into Jack again. “I grabbed it as he
stood dressing. He was laughing, and saying how much he had
enjoyed helping me become a woman.” She took another deep
breath. “Oh Jack, there was such hate in my heart that night. And
I took that spear and I...” Her words faded.
“I know Di...” Jack assured her, holding her close, his face
wet with tears.
“The janitor found me the next morning. My clothes
ripped, my face bruised.” She wiped her eyes. “And he found
‘Romeo’ as well. With a spear through his heart.”
Jack held her silently, waiting for her to end it. End the
catharsis and free herself.
“Of course everyone figured for themselves what had
happened and no charges were ever brought against me. But...”
she uttered haltingly.
“But what dearheart?” Jack pressed gently.
“But I still felt like a murderer. Even today. Right now in
fact. I still consider myself a murderer. And I can’t stop seeing his
dead eyes staring at me. They come to me sometimes, late at
night.” She crushed her face into Jack’s chest. “Help me Jack...”
she begged.
He held her tight, unable to speak. They sat in the silent
auditorium, holding each other. Letting the curative warmth of
their friendship carress their heavy hearts. The dark, dark stage
looming in the foreground.
The End
Unpublished Works © 1997 GJB
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