My Life

My Life

         “Tell me Clara,” you asked. “Tell me everything that you can.”

         I can tell you everything, or at least my version of everything. My name is Clara and I live a simple life. I’m a stay at home kind of gal. I have simple hobbies and simple tastes. I don’t ask for much from life, and to be really honest, I don’t expect much either. My home life growing up was uneventful. My father is still married to my mother, he never hit me, and today we still get along.

         My life really wouldn’t make a very good story; I am very surprised that you asked. Nothing ever happens to me. I wake up every morning at the same time, dress in the clothes that were picked out the night before, and eat my simple breakfast. I really like cereal for breakfast but sometimes I eat toast.

         I go to work each day. I sit at my computer and type. I type the papers given to me exactly as they are given to me. The papers never change, only the marked boxes change. Some papers have “Box A” checked, others “Box B”. To some it’s really confusing if “Box C” is checked instead of “Box A”. I’ve seen people quit over this little inconsistency but not me. I can handle the change. I have heard people say my job is boring but I live a simple life and have a simple job.

         “Clara, do you know why I am here?” You asked me while we sat in that small room and I told you about my life.

         “Yes, you are asking me questions.”

         “But I need you to focus and tell me about Jack. You remember Jack?”

         Of course I remember Jack. Jack was the man that I met the one day I went to the deli. I usually have my lunch at my desk. I like to bring a simple lunch to work, a sandwich and fruit. But one day I forgot my lunch so I went to the deli. I liked the deli, they always had fresh foods to eat and the people that were always in the deli were simple people. Jack, on the other hand, was not a simple person. I could tell he was a complicated man the moment he walked into the deli. Jack wore red in a sea of beige. Jack sat down at my booth without even asking and before I knew it I was accepting a date from him.

         Jack convinced me to go to the movies with him that night. I liked the movies and usually would go once a week. That night happened to be movie night so I decided that if Jack wanted to come along it was fine. We saw a simple movie; it was about a man and woman in love. On the way home Jack held my hand. I remember thinking that it was nice. Jack’s hands were larger than mine but not too rough. My hand fit inside Jack’s and when we reached my home he leaned in for a kiss. I reached up to meet Jack’s lips and kissed him simply.

         “Clara,” you interrupted snapping your fingers at me. “Please focus, I don’t have all day. Remember what we talked about? I will ask you questions and you answer them. When you first met Jack did he tell you his name?”

         “Yes,” I responded.

         When Jack sat down at my booth in the deli, I was in shock. This man who stood out from all the other men in the deli wanted to sit next to me. It was almost too much for a simple girl to handle. I think for a minute that I understood what happened to people at my job when a form with “Box C” checked came across their desk. This bold man introduced himself as Jack Spyder. It was an unusual last name but Jack was an unusual man.

         I spent my entire lunch break talking to Jack. He had traveled all around the world and lived a complicated life. Jack’s stories were almost too much for a simple girl to handle. I kept asking him questions, and at one point I pulled a notepad out of my backpack to take notes. Jack kept me so entertained that I forgot about going back to work. We sat in the deli for hours just talking. It was during our talk that Jack convinced me to go to the movies. I already told you about the movies and the rest of the night.

         “Do you have another question?” I asked, looking up at you. You were rapidly taking notes. I was lost in thoughts of Jack and trying hard to do what you asked me to do.

         “Yes, just tell me what happened next.” You responded, simply.

         I didn’t see Jack for several days after that. I was beginning to think that maybe I was too simple for him. I racked my brain trying to determine what I had done or said to drive Jack off. I never thought of anything, I had been nice to Jack and even kissed him on the first date. When I had finally decided that Jack was never going to come see me again, it was Saturday and Jack was knocking on my door. Saturday is usually my laundry day. I have different chores around my house that I do each day. It’s a simple way to keep my home clean. Jack wanted to go out to eat, I tried to explain to him that I had laundry to do but Jack wouldn’t take no for an answer. I learned very quickly that Jack was too powerful to say no to.

         Jack took me to a fancy restaurant, the tables had linen clothes and real silver placed just so. When we walked in I looked around and knew that this was not a simple place. I felt like everyone would look at me and determine that I did not belong there. In that restaurant I thought I was out of place but I was with Jack, and he quieted my fears. Jack placed my arm in his and told me he would protect me. In all my simple life I never thought about someone protecting me. I never thought about eating at fancy restaurants with linen clothes and real silver. When we sat down at the table, I did relax and start to have a good time.

         Jack talked the entire night and the more he talked the more I realized I loved to hear his voice. He explained to me that he traveled for work a lot. There were days and weeks sometimes when he would be out of town and unavailable. Jack was called out of town the day after our movie date, which was why he had disappeared. While I listened to Jack I realized how different our lives were. Jack traveled and I stayed at home. Jack didn’t plan his lunch or shop for his dinner each night like I did. I did my laundry on Saturday; Jack was lucky to have clean clothes. I didn’t know if Jack and I would become a couple, if we would date. I did know that if I let Jack into my life I would never want to let him go.

         “So when did you realize who Jack really was?” You asked me.

         “I just told you,” I said snapping out of my memories. “That night at dinner.”

         “No, I mean when did you learn that Jack was ‘The Spider’”

         When Jack would come over for Sunday breakfast, he often brought the newspaper with him. I first heard the term ‘The Spider’ by reading those Sunday papers. This person was a bank robber. ‘The Spider’ liked to break into banks and steal the cash. ‘The Spider’ caught my attention because the thefts were almost simple; he did not use computers or sophisticated equipment. It was an old fashion robbery. The newspapers quickly began to report anything they could about ‘The Spider,’ the nation was as interested as I was. Sometimes I think that the newspapers made up the name ‘The Spider’ to give the mysterious thief a romantic nature and when real news ran out these papers would make up stories just to keep the legend alive. My favorite Sunday’s quickly became the ones where we would sit on the floor eating a simple breakfast and reading the newspaper. I always looked for articles on ‘The Spider.’ When I found a story Jack and I would laugh and say that the newspaper had spelt his name wrong.

         “Jack’s not ‘The Spider,’” I blurted out, tiring of your questions.

         “I have evidence. Clara, you remember the evidence I showed you? These pictures.” You pointed to the stacks of pictures on the table.

         “These pictures mean nothing. Look, all the pictures are fuzzy, you can’t see anything.”

         “But there is more, I tracked Jack’s travel. It matches the thefts. Every time Jack was away on business, ‘The Spider’ would hit. Can you really be that simple, Clara? Can you really ignore the evidence and claim that this man is not evil?”

         You asked me to tell you everything, which I am. I told you Jack is not “The Spider” and you don’t believe me. The man that I fell in love with, the man that promised to protect me in that fancy restaurant, was not an evil man who caused crime. I don’t care if you have fuzzy pictures, and travel schedules. This man loved me, and I was not going to let you convince me otherwise.

         I really don’t know anything about ‘The Spider.’ I am a simple gal with a simple life. I met a man in a deli. He was so interesting and different then me. We fell in love and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. Jack took care of me and tried to teach me how to expand my life. ‘The Spider” was an international thief who could never have been the man I met in the deli that wonderful day when I forgot my lunch.

         I got up to leave, your questions tired me and I was done. I looked at you, trying to convey that I wouldn’t answer anything you asked me from now on. You could continue to ask, but I won’t answer. I wanted to go home, back to my simple life. I had chores to do. I needed to pick out my clothes for the next day. I had to bathe and go to sleep, tomorrow was a workday. I would have forms on my desk all filled out and ready to type into the computer.

         “Clara,” you called as I walked out the door. “You never did answer my first question. What is your last name?”

         I closed the door behind me, still not answering the question. I walked down the stairs trying to gain my composure. I could not believe the ideas that were in your head. I would never believe that the man that was waiting for me in the car was an international thief. Jack had settled into my simple life. He had found joy in simple hobbies and simple tastes. He understood the need to do the laundry on Saturday and go to the movies once a week. We were in love; we had made a life and a family.

         The car door had been opened for me, and I slid into the seat. As I drove off, I began to think of you and your questions. The ideas that you had were good but your pictures; those poor pictures would never allow you to solve the puzzle.

         “You are such a good liar.” The voice next to me said.

         “I didn’t lie. He wanted my story, I told him my story.” I responded with a smile slowly growing across my face. “Just one of these days though, I wish that they would spell my name right.”