FanStory.com - DUEL with the DEVIL - Chapter 17by Jim Wile

Background
A brilliant young chemist creates a new opioid with unknown benefits and pitfalls.

Recap of Chapter 16: Brian and Julia begin hanging out all the time now. They discover they have a lot in common including a love of chess. They begin playing and invite Alex to join them for lunch and to watch them play. On a walk around the lake during the free period, they have their first kiss. Later that day and the next, they learn the art of meditation and yoga as alternatives to drugs, and Julia, especially, takes to it. On their final day of rehab, on a walk around the lake, they vow to continue seeing each other in the outside world.

Chapter 17

We began seeing each other almost every weekend after that. I had to overcome some initial resistance from her parents, mainly her mother, who were very protective of her. They weren’t too thrilled with the idea that their daughter was going out with a guy she met at rehab, at least at first.

Before they would let her go out with me, Julia told me I needed to “audition for the part,” as she put it, by coming to Sunday dinner at her house. I was nervous about this because it meant they wouldn't allow her to see me anymore if they didn't like me.

I dressed in my nicest shirt and slacks and had even gotten a haircut the day before to make as good a visual impression as I could. I had also bought a new pair of dress shoes to wear. I rarely wore dress shoes, and my last pair was now way too small for me.

I guess I looked presentable enough because Julia’s eyes lit up, and she smiled when she opened the front door to let me in. “Wow, you clean up pretty well,” she said.

She was dressed in a light blue sweater over a shortish, navy-blue skirt. The outfit clung snugly to her tiny frame. She had on a little light makeup and wore a gold chain around her neck. God, she was cute.

“So do you!”

We stood there, smiling at each other, for a few seconds. Then she grabbed my hand and said, “Come in. Let me introduce you to my parents.”

She took the light jacket I’d been wearing and hung it up, then we entered the family room, where her parents were sitting in club chairs. “Mother and Dad, I’d like you to meet my friend, Brian Kendrick.”

I walked over to shake her father’s hand.

“Hello, Brian. Robert Entwistle,” he said as he gave me a good, firm handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Then I walked over to greet her mother. “Hello, Mrs. Entwistle,” I said, extending my hand, but she didn’t take it right away.

Instead, she said, “I kept my maiden name, which is Schmidt.”

“I’m sorry. It’s nice to meet you too, Mrs. Schmidt,” I said with my hand still out.

“It’s Dr. Schmidt, and excuse me, but I don’t shake hands. I need to protect them.”

“Sorry. That makes sense,” I said as I lowered my hand. I glanced at Julia, who rolled her eyes. “Julia tells me you’re the concert master of the Charlotte Symphony.”

“A mere steppingstone, I’m afraid. I’ll be auditioning for the New York Philharmonic next month.”

She was attractive and petite, like Julia, but didn’t smile at all. Such a snob, with a rather sour look, to be honest. “Oh, well, good luck, I guess.” I was getting tired of this woman already.

Julia tried to make the best of it. “Why don’t we sit over here, Brian?” and she led me over to a sofa. There was a glass coffee table in front of us with a small plate of hors d’oeuvres—smoked salmon and soda crackers and some sort of stinky cheese. I hated smoked salmon, which I had once at my cousin’s house, but to be polite, I took some. I loaded up a cracker and forced myself to eat it. Julia didn’t take any.

We sat there for a while, and no one said anything. Before the silence became unbearable, Julia said, “Brian is a very good chess player. He and I played several games already.”

“That’s nice,” said Frau Schmidt, rather disinterestedly.

“I play online quite a bit. Julia is also very good.”

“Addicted to internet chess too, then, are you?” her mother said.

“Mother, I thought we weren’t going to talk about anything like that,” said Julia firmly.

“What’s your favorite opening?” asked her father, jumping in to help get past the sudden tension.

Relieved, I said, “I enjoy the London system. Creates a nice defensive position that’s hard to attack effectively.”

“Yes, that’s a good one. You can play it quickly without thinking too heavily at the start while getting your pieces in the correct positions.”

We continued talking about chess for a few minutes. Julia said little, and her mother nothing. We finally quit talking about it when her father said, “We’ll have to play a game sometime.”

I glanced at her mother when he said that, and her brow was furrowed. It was clear she wanted no part of me near her daughter… or her. I decided right then, to hell with her. I would be polite, but I refused to be cowed by her or her prejudice towards me. She didn’t know me. Her father seemed decent enough, though.

I turned to him and said, “I’d like that. Sometime we’ll have to.”

“Good. Can I get you something to drink? We have Perrier or iced tea. I believe Julia even bought some Coca-Cola, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Coke is fine. Thanks.”

“Same for you, Julia?” he asked, and she nodded. “Marie?” he then said, turning to his wife.

“I’ll have a martini, but I’ll prepare it myself,” she said as she got up to join him in the kitchen.

That left Julia and me alone in the family room. She turned to me and said, “I’m sorry about my mother. She can be such a bitch sometimes.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I decided I wouldn’t let her intimidate me. Your father seems nice.”

“Yeah, he’s nice enough, but sometimes he’s cowed by her. Let’s just get through dinner, then we can go to my room.”

“You sure they’ll allow that?”

“They said I had to keep the door open, but otherwise it was okay.”

“I’d love to hear you play the violin if you feel like it.”

“Sure.”

She fell silent then and seemed a little uptight. I patted her hand and said, “Relax. Everything’s cool. Why don’t I try to lighten things up a little? Maybe I could tell a joke.”

“I guess you could try. They’re not much into jokes, though.”

Her father was soon back with the drinks for me and Julia. He didn’t have one himself, but I heard her mother still in the kitchen, preparing hers. I think he could tell I wasn’t fond of the smoked salmon because he also came in with a small bowl of potato chips, which he set down on the table in front of us.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a few.

Her mother rejoined us in another minute with her drink.

“Hey, I heard a pretty good joke recently," I ventured. "Would you like to hear it?”

Julia’s father said, “Sure, go ahead.”

“Okay, this little boy and his dad were out for a walk one day. The boy’s looking all around and says, ‘Hey Dad, why is the sky blue?’

“The dad thinks for a while and says, ‘Son, I’m not sure I know why.’

“They pass by some woods and spot a deer and her fawn, and the boy says, ‘Hey Dad, why does the fawn have white spots, but the mother doesn’t?’

“Dad says, ‘Well, that’s sure a good question, but I don’t know the answer to it.’

“A little further on, the boy says, ‘Hey Dad, how come the birds chirp so much in the morning, but they’re so quiet now?’

“Dad thinks for a minute and says, ‘That’s another good one. Wish I knew the answer.’

“‘I hope you don’t mind me asking you so many questions, Dad.’

“‘Of course not. If you don’t ask questions, how are you going to learn anything?’”

There was silence for a few seconds. Then her father let out a startling, “Hah!” followed by a great bellowing laugh. Julia and I laughed along with him. When we finally stopped, her father said, “That’s a good joke, Brian.”

I glanced over at Dr. Schmidt, who still sat there expressionless, except possibly for a slight smirk. The woman clearly had no sense of humor, but Julia seemed to have underestimated her father, who was still chuckling about it.

With the mood lightened somewhat, at least with two-thirds of the family, we finished our drinks with a bit of polite conversation, then headed into the dining room for an afternoon dinner of Cornish hen with wild rice and peas with pearl onions in them. It was followed by a small portion of orange sherbet, served in a wineglass, for dessert. It was a spare but tasty meal. I could see how Julia and her mother were so petite if they always ate like that. I could have eaten about two more meals of that size and probably still not have been full.

The conversation was also spare during the meal, but that was okay. It was soon over, and Julia and I excused ourselves to go up to her room. I thanked Dr. Schmidt for a delicious meal before leaving, and she just nodded her thanks at the compliment.

Once in Julia’s room, she said, “Phew, glad that’s over with!”

I said, “It was fine. You can relax now.”

And she seemed to, then. She went to her desk, pulled out the chair, and pointed to it. “Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll play something for you?”

“Alright. What are you going to play? Not that I’d know what it was, but I’m just curious.”

“It’s called Czardas by Vittorio Monti.” She picked up her violin and bow, which had been lying on her bed, and began playing without any music while standing in the middle of the room.

The piece was about five minutes long. It began slowly and perhaps a bit ponderously, but then she launched into a fast and lively section where her fingers flew, and the notes poured out. It was followed by a slower section that went about as high as the violin can play and ended with a more restrained, lively part that was very melodic and lovely. I was entranced by her flawless playing. Her technique was amazing, with exaggerated vibrato in places, and the speed with which she played the fast part was truly impressive.

When she was finished, I clapped loudly and said, “Bravo! That was wonderful. You are very talented, Jules.” That just slipped out. I’d never called her that before. “I mean Julia.”

“No, I like that—Jules. Nobody’s ever called me that. You can call me Jules. Makes me think of jewels, as in gems.”

“Maybe I should call you that then.”

“Call me what?”

“Jewels.”

“I get it. Or maybe even Joules. You know, the unit of energy?”

“You’d rather be called a unit of energy?”

“Mm… I guess not. Maybe just plain Jules after all.”

“You got it, Jules.” We laughed at our silliness.

“Anyway, that was really, really good!”

“Thanks. I guess you couldn’t hear all the mistakes. I’m still working on it. Mother would’ve probably had a few choice words about it, but I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I absolutely did. Okay, do you know something a little less highbrow?”

“You mean like this?” and she launched into a quick version of “Turkey in the Straw,” which was delightful in its own way, finishing with a “Shave and a haircut, two bits” ending. It was very amusing, and I laughed and clapped again.

“That’s enough of that,” she said. “Let’s do something else. Wanna play chess?”

“I’d rather sit and make out with you for a while.”

“Ooo! That sounds nice, but I have to leave the door open, so maybe that’s not such a good idea.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Okay, let’s play chess.”

She got out a board, and we played for a couple of hours. We completed four games in all. I won three of them, but she checkmated me early with some fabulous play in the other one. After that, we just sat and talked for a while. I found her easy to talk to. She was a good listener and would seldom jump in and interrupt, but she would think about what I was saying and come back with a thoughtful response. She was intelligent and surprisingly witty, using sarcasm very effectively in an understated sort of way.

The time seemed to fly by. Neither of us wanted it to end, but she had some homework to do, she said, and I told her I also had a paper to write for English—my own, not someone else’s. I told her I wouldn’t be doing that anymore, and I meant it.

It ended up being a wonderful afternoon once we got over the initial meeting and dinner with her parents, and we could relax. “Maybe you can come over to my house next weekend and meet Fran,” I suggested.

“I’d like that.”

“You’ll have to bring your violin too and play for her. She’ll love it. She’ll love you.”

“Okay, I will.”

“How about one kiss before I leave?”

She looked at me and smiled, then we embraced, and I gently lowered my face to hers, and we kissed long and slow. Our tongues gently caressed each other’s. It was a fabulous kiss, but it was soon over, and we walked downstairs, somewhat breathless. She got me my jacket from the closet, and I went into the family room to say goodbye to her parents and thank them for their hospitality and the wonderful, albeit small, dinner. I shook her dad’s hand and told him I enjoyed meeting him.

To her mother, I said, “Nice to meet you too, Mrs. Schmidt, er, Dr. Schmidt.” She didn’t return the nicety but only said, “Drive safely on your way home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

With a wink at Julia, I said, “I’ll call you later this week. Bye, Jules.” Then I turned and left.