One summer Jason completely lost it. The Iraq War veteran broke into Tatiana’s posh apartment. The ballerina was away on tour in Paris. Homeless, Jason remembered her address after a one time brief encounter. No dignity when a man with a past decided to violate someone’s home.
When Jason heard his name as a child, he remained silent. Autistic or bipolar? The loner’s peculiar behavior was noticed at an early age. As a bullied kid, he poisoned Halloween treats and giggled. The boy’s twisted mindset developed further while watching the tv series Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom. Listening to Merlin Perkins describe a lemming’s strange behavior captivated and amused him.
Jason struggled throughout school. Aspiring to be an elite fighter, he enlisted in the US Army after high school. As a young soldier, his sunken eyes, thick square jaw and pock-marked facial features gave him a tough-guy look. However, his queer sensibility hung heavy in the barrack. Wearing nothing but boots in the showers, he cruised around. Frustrated by no takers, Jason stood alone in the corner jerking off. He suffered severe homophobic stigma from the laughing straight-laced war heroes. His temper boiled over minor incidents; perfect for the battlefield, not great for everyone else in the service.
Jason became a casualty of war himself. Struggling with injuries from working burn pits, eventually he was pushed out of the military and remained a closeted bisexual. It was no surprise when he was given a Dishonorable Discharge after facing court-martial charges for his torture abuses in the Abu Ghraib prison. Returning lost in the noise of society—left with no financial means, employment or address—Jason connected with petty crime, strangers on the street and alcoholism as a means of coping. He developed a distrust in the government’s VA system.
Across stages in Europe, ballerina Tatiana displayed graceful movements her entire life. Now at the height of her career in Paris, she performed for kings and queens. Jason tended to repress his sexual feelings over women but thought, “What the hell, I’ll never act my age and give vagina another try.” He met the flirtatious dancer through a hook-up app accessed on a local public library computer.
What happened in this lascivious turn of events? Jason cursed up a storm while maniacally smashing the ballerina’s balcony window one Wednesday afternoon. His actions rewarded him with a gash on his face where blood trickled down one cheek. Entering Tatiana’s ornate apartment full of lavish decor and furnishings made him feel good. His intentions for a short visit turned into a camped-out stay. Her residence aroused his waywardness.
The sweeping apartment view was amazing. A sinking sun streaked across the western sky. The pleasure of the ballerina’s lingering personal scent in her bedroom was enthralling. Jason’s health improved, according to his new sleeping habits; he wore a hi-tech Oura Ring taken from her dresser drawer.
That night, he’d embark on adventurous dreams. Long shadows cast patterns on Victorian damask patterned wallpaper. For kicks lying in bed wearing nothing, he got all soupy considering romantic musings. Tossing and turning—with some wild gyrating and rubbing his body against silk sheets— he made sure there were no stains. He took it a step further. He found her extra-sheer pink nightie and lace panties rummaging through a laundry hamper.
The indiscretion wouldn’t last long.
Early Friday evening, a door key jangled in the hallway. Unannounced, the raven-haired ballerina came home. Jason stood there, as the dead bolt lock turned in slow motion. Was his surprise stupid? Without a doubt. He stood there frozen still wearing the nightie. Tatiana entered the living room. The shocked ballerina sensed menace after recognizing him. Puzzled and frightened Tatiana immediately took notice of the sexy lingerie she adored.
“Listen mister, you don’t go breaking into other people’s apartments.” she scolded.
“But I missed you.” Jason said. He reached out for her, but she recoiled in disgust at his touch.
The ballerina snapped, “You’re lucky I didn’t slice your balls off with my Swiss Army knife.”
Jason whimpered,” I’ll never forget our night together.”
“Things certainly didn’t work out the way I anticipated. But I guess you can stay.” the ballerina said.
What did she mean by her hesitation? The timing seemed off.
Jason trembled. A troubled look clouded his pale blue eyes. They really didn’t know each other that well. When someone suffers from philophobia; the trauma of past failed relationships makes them feel revulsion and unlovable. “I can’t.” he answered as his deep voice sank, “I must go.”
Disturbing but expected, Jason immediately put his clothes on and left. It was a Friday night; he headed directly to the nearest bar and started a weekend bender. Nothing to note in this trashy establishment except sexless drinkers busy fulfilling bleak futures without hope. Bar patrons wore twisted smiles and forced laughter. Hours of conversations turned into slurry absurdity.
Late Saturday morning, hungover Jason found himself at the same bar wearing a big grin. All day long, he chugged beer after beer, pounded shot after shot, in-between downing energy drinks. By late afternoon, he swayed and started pontificating from a wobbly barstool.
“May I have your attention, please. Who here knows everything about who you are?” Dead silence. Jason made no sense whatsoever forgetting his next thought. Nobody cared. These people routinely dismissed advice givers; they didn’t want to hear it. Jason’s bullshitter persona was prone to delusion. He lacked compassion, except for his brief encounter with an eccentric ballerina. Last call: Jack and Coke. In a losing battle drifting further from reality, his private descent into wretched sordidness and depravity continued. His problem led to an answer, one Jason didn’t expect.
After midnight, a lonely dark figure staggered down an empty street emulating Edgar Allan Poe’s last steps. Jason tripped and fell. He smashed his forehead flat out on the sidewalk causing massive bleeding. At death’s doorstep, the body jerked as his head rose, gasping its final breath. The pavement turned crimson red. Did the grim tragedy have a forewarning? In nature, lemmings gather in great numbers at the brink of life. Meeting and accepting their tragic fate, the animals plunge over the precipice swallowed by the turbulent sea below.
That same night, Tatiana had terrible nightmares. Looking out her damaged window was a reminder of loneliness. As the city slept, she struggled to recall his name. Tatiana gazed at a bright full moon through the realm of her tears. The lunar landscape reminded her of his rugged face. Stuffed in Jason’s jeans pocket, the cops discovered a rambling note written on a bar napkin that began with, “I apologize for the problems, I’m manipulative because I wanted you to like me, so I did things.” He did.