Liam's Tale

approximately 1200 words

Liam’s Tale
by
Max Griffin

Taillights on the car in front of Liam flashed, and he tapped on the brakes of his VW van.  Impatience twisted his lips.  This part of I-95 had four friggin’ lanes in each direction, five if you counted the exit lane, and yet the traffic was crawling along at twenty miles per hour.  He tapped the brakes again.  Ten miles per hour.  At this rate, it’d take forever to go the last ten miles to Fort Lauderdale and his lunch rendezvous with Michel. 

         He glanced at his companion, Alice Miller, sitting in the next seat.  “Can you check the traffic channel on the radio?”

         She fiddled with controls of the satellite radio he’d installed prior to their spring break trek to Fort Lauderdale.  “It shows all clear.”

         “So, it’s worthless.  Find something to listen to, then.”

         “Sure.”  In seconds, the soothing tones of the DJ on the Eighties on Eight channel oozed, “Next up is the Bonnie Tyler hit, ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart’.”

         Perfect.  Of course, that dweeb Alice would choose a lame channel featuring tunes from the last century. 

         She squirmed in her seat.  “Relax, man.  We’re on vacation.  What’s the hurry?”

         “I’m supposed to meet Michel for lunch.”

         “Who?”

         “You know.  Michel Meyer.  I’ve talked about him enough.”

         She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah.  Your oh-so-perfect boyfriend.  I thought he was in New York, at Juilliard.”

         “He was.  But he got picked up by the Actor’s Studio.  That led to an audition with Cirque de Patineurs and a part in their touring company.”

         “Who? Never heard of ‘em.”

         “They’re the next big thing from the folks that created Cirque du Soleil.”

         She shrugged. “Whatever.” 

         “I talked to him on the phone last night, after his show.  He was still in character. He used the character’s signature line. His voice even sounded like his character.”

         “Method acting will do that to you.”  She undid her seatbelt and turned to rummage in the back seat.  “You want chips or anything?”

         “No, thanks.  Try not to wake the others up.”  Three of their companions were snoring away in the back of the van.  The last thing he needed was Buzz ragging on him about Michel.

         She started to munch on Pringles.  “Did Alby say why he decided to stay in Atlanta?”

         “Said he met someone.  Said he turned around, and found someone who wanted him to be the man he really was.”

         “Well, good for him. It wasn’t healthy, the way he obsessed over his dead husband.”

         “Love will do that to you.  Sometimes, all you’ve got is love in the dark.”  Like Liam, with Michel gone off to seek his fortune. 

         “So, tell me about this guy, Michel. How did the two of you meet?”

         From her desultory tone, he didn’t really think she was interested.  But, he had nothing better to do.  “I met him in high school.  I don’t know how he did it, making love out of nothing at all.”

         “Uh-huh.”  Pringle crumbs dribbled on her lap.

         “Every time I think of him, all the rays of the sun are all streaming through the waves in his hair, and every star in the sky is taking aim at his eyes, like a spotlight.”

         “I get it.  I remember now the pic you showed me on your phone. He’s pretty.”

         “It’s more than that.  When we spoke last night…well the beating of my heart was a drum and it's lost and it's looking for a rhythm like him.  He takes the darkness from the pit of the night and turns it to a beacon burning endlessly bright.”

         “Poetic. They teach you to talk like that in law school?”

         He didn’t dignify that with an answer.

         She finished her chips.  The song on the radio changed to “Making Love Out of Nothing at All.”  She wadded up the bag and tossed it on the floorboard.  “I love these old songs.  Do you recognize the group?”

         “I’m not sure.  Not Journey.  Air Supply, maybe?”

         “Could be.”

         The traffic sped up to twenty miles an hour.  Maybe he’d make their lunch date after all.  “I’m really looking forward to seeing him.  When he’s gone, his love is like a shadow on me all of the time.  I mean, all of the time.  It’s like I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark, like I’m  living in a powder keg and giving off sparks.”

         “Huh.  Must be awful. Glad that kind of thing never happened to me.”

         Of course it never happened to her.  She was a self-centered, sarcastic little snip.  No one would ever love her the perfect way, the overwhelming way, that Michel loved Liam. He wondered again what had happened to her two nights ago at the Route 66 B&B where she’d spent the night.  It wasn’t like her to miss an opportunity to dis the people she’d met there.

         The song changed again, this time Meatloaf wailing “I’d do anything for love (except that).”  Just like Michel.  He’d do anything for love, too, except give up his art. That’s what sent him off to New York, to the Juilliard, and then to the Actor’s Studio.  At least it had paid off with his big break.

         The song finished, and she asked, “So, you’ll do anything for love, then?”

         He frowned.  “Yes.”

         “This Michel guy?  He feels the same way?”

         “Of course.”

         “Except that.”

         He waited, but she just looked out the window.

         Just like her to drop a bombshell and then shut up.  He didn’t look at her when he said, “Go on. Except what?”

         “Except that he ran away.  He put his art ahead of his love for you.  And you let him.”

         Buzz’s sleepy voice came from the back seat. “We there yet?”

         Liam answered Buzz instead of responding to Alice. It was easier. “We’ve got maybe five miles to go.  The traffic’s hellish.”

         Buzz stretched and yawned.  “What you guys talking about? Who put his art ahead of his love?”

         Liam answered, “Michel.  He’s an amazing dancer and actor, both.  Of course his art is important.”

         Buzz’s laugh hooted. “Oh my god.  You mean that gig he’s got? It’s not like he’s doing Shakespeare or Swan Lake.  I mean, Cirque de Patineurs means roller skate circus. They perform on roller skates. They don’t even use roller blades—just those clunky old quad skates.”

         Liam clenched his jaw.  “It’s still art. It still takes talent.” LIam still loved him.  It didn't matter what anyone thought.

         Buzz snorted. “Art. Right.  It’s Muppets on Skates, for fuck’s sake. And he’s not playing Hamlet.  He’s Fozzie Bear.  You know. Wokka, wokka.”

         Alice howled in laughter. “Oh my god! Liam Thopas, what were thinking?  The way you talked him up, it was like he was a combination of the next Olivier and Nureyev, and he’s friggin’ Fozzie Bear?  He used method acting to get in that character?”

         Liam didn’t answer.  Somehow, though, the sudden shock of reality squelched his desire.  The memory of Michel’s voice last night, of Fozzie Bear’s voice, that became the sigil of their love. 

         Buzz and Alice continued to laugh, but it didn't matter.  The traffic sped up at last, but that no longer mattered, either.

         Nothing mattered.  Not any more. A total eclipse of his heart.

         

         






Song links

Total Eclipse of the Heart


i'd do anything for love (but i won't do that) meatloaf


Making Love out of Nothing at all