By Linda Ashcroft
Date: 21 February 2000
Jim & Linda
I re-read the poem on the crumpled paper. I looked up at
Jim's troubled face. I nearly choked on,'I love you.'
'What's that?' he said with a fresh grin. 'Four times
you've told me you love me? When I'm convicted,' he
said sombrely, not if,'would you run with me?'
'Yes,' I said without hesitation, hurt he hadn't counted
my 'I love you's' correctly. I sang a bit of 'Not to Touch
the Earth,' ta-dah-ing through the guitar part of Robby's
I envied.
He smiled. 'We could really go to Morocco, the land of your birth.'
He always added the land of your birth in a respectful voice, as
if a kingdom awaited me there. 'I loved those pictures in your
album. The home-movies. I dream of living in one of those
flat-topped houses. We could sleep on the roof under the
stars. Like when I lived in Venice. We could write a novel
together.'
'We could,'I stepped into the tub,'do that anyway.'
Jim lowered himself into the water behind me, and held me
against his chest.'Are you in love with anyone else?'
'No.'
'Do you go out on dates?'
'No. I occasionally hang out with a couple of friends from
high school. But nobody else recognizes quotes from Dickens.
Or dances on their knees. You've spoiled me.'
'Guys have to ask you out,' Jim prodded.
'Do they? Okay, I went out with a draft counsellor, but
all we had in common was hate for the war and being vegetarians.'
We'd eaten at the falafel place I liked to take Jim.'I expected
him to be sweet and gentle, but he was an octopus.'
Jim laughed.'Did you slap his face?'
'No. I told him I didn't like being manhandled, and he tried
to make me feel silly and young by asking me if I had ever
dated a REAL man before. I felt like saying,"Only Jim Morrison
and Jimi Hendrix, you know, gentlemen like that."'
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