Jenny

The air in Haight-Ashbury vibrated with a thousand conversations, a symphony of strummed guitars, and the scent of patchouli and freedom. Jenny McCormick, her long, dirty blonde hair catching the afternoon sun, leaned against a weathered storefront, sketching in her notebook. Suddenly, a young man with eyes the color of a summer sky and a mop of unruly dark hair bumped into her, scattering her charcoal pencils. "Whoa, sorry!" he exclaimed, a grin splitting his face. "Heath's the name."

"Jenny," she replied, laughing at the slight chaos.

He helped gather her pencils, their fingers brushing. "Groovy name. So, whatcha drawing?"

"Just the vibe, you know? The energy of this place."

"Totally feel that," Heath agreed, settling beside her. "This town’s electric. I just moved here from Ohio – had to escape the Man. You dig?"

Jenny nodded vigorously. "Government's a trip, right? Constricting. I draw to express what they can’t understand."

"Me, I play guitar," Heath confessed, his eyes sparkling. "Hoping to find some like-minded souls, jam with them, you know?"

"I'd love to hear you sometime," Jenny said, feeling a thrill run through her. "I’m heading to a gig tonight. It's a real happening."

"Wish I could, but I'm on my way to a festival. And… I'm kinda dry." He flashed a sheepish grin. "Any chance you could snag me a bottle of something? I can barely afford bus fare, let alone booze." Jenny, amused by his audacity, felt a surge of adventurousness.

"Sure, why not?" she replied. "Wait, how old are You?"

"20."

"What makes you think I'm old enough?" She scoffed. "Nevermind," she said, reminding herself that what other people thought of her was none of her business.

He lifted his eyebrows and summoned a playful grin.

"What's Your flavor danger?"

"Anything'll do," he chuckled. "As long as it's strong enough to help me forget the never-ending war."

Jenny turned away from Heath and walked into the store. The store was dimly lit and she headed down the first aisle gazing at the fifth sized bottles. She wondered to herself "Is he a clear liquor guy or a brown liquor guy?" She stood there for a moment trying to decide (she usually had a pretty good take on people and her intuition told her that he was most definitely a whiskey guy. She chose a bottle and proceeded to the counter where a tired clerk asked her for her ID and told her her total would be $5.30. She retrieved her money from the small purse that hung on her hip and paid gentlemen and thought to herself "I'm still being ID'd, I mustn't look too bad."

She made her way back out of the front of the store where Heath still stood and decided that today wasn't such a bad day when she observed a man shouting at a woman across the street at the car wash. The man was throwing the woman out of the car and calling her a bitch - and not quietly, loudly enough that it was catching the attention of all the random passersby. Suddenly, Heath was walking toward the chaos.

"Leave her alone, man. You and I both know that it ain't cool to lay hands on a woman, no matter what," Heath said trying to diffuse the situation. The man was angry but obviously nervous that someone dared to confront him and he sat back down into his car with the speed of a hummingbird, leaving the woman in the parking lot crying and zoomed off down the road.

The strange woman thanked Heath, who was helping her to her feet and said "If you hadn't come over to assist, he would still be yelling at me. He has some issues and I told him I was leaving and he just couldn't accept that. His behavior just confirmed to me that I have to stick to my choice." Heath nodded in agreement when the police car pulled up next to them. He told the police what he had observed and left the woman in their capable hands.

He walked back across the street to where Jenny was still standing, shaking her head in disbelief. She looked into his blue eyes, even more enchanted than she had previously been and said "Wow. I can't believe any of that just happened. I'm so glad you jumped in and said something. I just kind of froze when I saw what was happening and wondered why no one was rushing to that woman's aid." She handed him the brown paper bag containing the spirits and said "Cheers to a job well done!"

They spent the next few minutes swapping stories – Heath’s dreams of becoming a renowned musician, Jenny’s passion for capturing the spirit of the era on canvas. They talked about their shared love of music; Stillwater, Dylan, Hendrix – they both had similar taste. He spoke of the joy of playing guitar. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by shared laughter and knowing glances. The afternoon sun cast long shadows as their connection deepened. Their words turned to excited whispers, promises whispered on the breeze. As the sun started to set, casting a warm golden glow over the street, Heath stood to go.

"I gotta run. But I really enjoyed meeting you, Jenny." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small, worn piece of paper. “Give me your number. I'll call once I've settled in." He leaned in, his eyes intense, and kissed her, a kiss that was both fiery and tender, full of the promise of untold adventures. It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a kiss that transcended words, a kiss that whispered of possibilities that still lay ahead of them. Their fingers interlocked momentarily before he turned and disappeared into the vibrant throng of Haight-Ashbury. Heath, clutching the crumpled piece of paper with her number, smiled. The future seemed bright, filled with possibilities. The air hummed with the promise of something extraordinary.

The first two days, Jenny found herself staying close to her phone in anticipation of Heath's call. After a couple months of silence, however, Heath randomly crossed her mind and she shrugged it off, thinking to herself '"I really liked that guy and thought he would call. That's the last time I ever kiss a stranger outside of a convenience store!"

Eight years later Jenny is unlocking her front door, lugging her heavy collection of unfinished storyboards. Relieved that she finally has a weekend to herself, she suddenly hears the phone ringing through her front door. She uses all of her strength to quicken her pace and try to reach another undetermined deadline. After working at the office all day swimming in a sea of testosterone, she simply longed (with every fiber of her being) for a moment of silence; the shrill ring of the telephone was the intruder that stood between her and insanity. Abruptly, she heard her own voice saying, "You've reached Jenny, I'm not home right now, please leave a message and I'll call you back." Instead of ditching her office luggage, she took her usual time to adjust herself. As she pulled off her panty hose and exhaled a sigh of relief, she heard a male voice emanating from the answering machine. "Hey Jenny, this is Keith, you don't know me and I don't know you, but I would like to meet up for a good time," followed by a subtle chuckle. The line went dead. Confused, Jenny wondered if this was just another joke from a guy at work, but her inclinations proved otherwise. She immediately recalled a previous obnoxious amount of similar messages that she had started receiving that month. Exhausted and befuddled, she quickly finished her diminishing snack and headed towards the upstairs to draw herself a bath. Half way up the staircase, the phone rings again. Jenny picked up the receiver and sputtered out the demanding query... "Who is this?"

"Uhh...hey this is Doug. Wow- I never thought a hot girl would answer."

Jenny blinked a thousand times in disbelief, but curiosity stood its ground. With conviction she mustered her sense of dignity and stated, "Listen, I don't know who you are and you sure don't know me, but I beg you, how did you get my number?"

"It was written on the wall in the men's room."

She hesitated but blurted, "Why would anybody write my name and number on a bathroom wall?"

He stammered back at the bar restroom entrance but summoned up enough courage to blame the first man that was near him for creating the dilemma. "Hold on dear, ah...this is..."

"Heath," said a distant voice as the phone was handed over by a man who had one too many. Hesitantly Heath answered with an innocent, "Hello?"

"Heath? This Jenny McCormick, are you the same Heath that...wait...this is weird. Are you writing my name and number on bathroom stalls?!"

"Jenny...oh my God. How are you? I...well...yes, I did." He stammered and tried to compose himself.

"What the hell for?" she questioned sharply with demanding fervor.

"I'm sorry, I didn't even know that you still used that number. I was just drinking and thought of you and how frustrated I was about how we had a great connection, but you were obviously with someone."

"Wait, you called me? I waited for your call for days." Her frustration mounted.

"I called a couple times. A man kept answering the phone, so I just gave up on it."

"The man you are referring to was my cousin David, he lived with me while he was going through a break-up. I was hardly ever home back then anyway and he helped pay rent How insecure are you to not even leave a message! That is pretty childish if you ask me!" She vented.

"Oh my God, really? I'm, so sorry. I-I I am an idiot. I guess I just thought that you..." he trailed off, trying to muster up a way to make things more clear for her. "I was scared too."

"Scared? Scared of what?"

"It's not everyday you get a kiss like that. I haven't felt the way I did around you with anyone. I was scared that you weren't into me like I was into you. When I heard the man's voice, it was like a sledgehammer to my heart."

"Heath, I felt the same way. I wasn't right for weeks when I didn't hear from you. I threw myself into my art. In fact, my cousin unknowingly possesses a portrait of you." she laughed.

Heath laughed with a mix of relief and unchecked excitement. "Oh yeah? I want to see it! Does it look like me? I bet the guys would want someone to help create our album cover."

"It looked like how I felt that day. I don't do that type of work anymore. I gave away half my work. I kept what I needed for a portfolio for my current job. I'm a colorist for a local studio. We help refine the cells for animation projects. I had to grow up. My art wasn't paying the bills."

"In my mind, you are art. You are the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever seen. When I travel my mind back to when I was with you, it always makes me feel warm and safe." His voice sounding a touch dipsy.

Jenny hesitated but couldn't help but feel a little smitten. "Would you like to finally hang out, you sap?"

"I'm out in New York City right now doing some studio recording. I should be - " Heath cut out all of a sudden and Jenny could barely hear a voice stating that he must leave the bar at once for vandalizing the bathroom. The line went dead.

She hung the phone up and stared at the wall for a moment. She got up noticing it was getting late. She still had so much work to do and so little time.

That night she had a dream that she was with Heath at night on a beach watching the stars as they took turns finishing each other's sentences and laughing at the pure enjoyment of their presence. She woke up happy and for days she was excited to come home and check the answering machine for his call.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to days and finally Jenny gave up the idea that Heath would ever call. She felt silly and never thought of him again.

A few years later she would meet a man named Jason, who eventually changed her last name to Knorr. They met through work and hit it off with ease. They had no plans to have children, but had a great relationship with family and collected an interesting array of friends. Jason encouraged Jenny to work on her art and even helped create a studio space in the same place she dwelled for years. They had plans to buy a house and even considered changing their view on having children. However, one night things would change. Jenny wasn't home and Jason answered the phone to hear Heath on the other line asking for her. Jason established that he was her husband and a drunken Heath professed his undying love for Jenny. Jason had never heard of Heath and was hurt by Heath's details of what plans the and Jenny supposedly had together. Jason hung the phone up, not just on Heath, but on his marriage with Jenny.

Jenny was depressed and confused as she was never given an explanation to what made Jason close off to her. Many years had passed by and she was done with men. She focused on her work and was able to obtain a new job where things were not so awkward and where she could make a fresh start. The friends that she and Jason made together now wanted nothing to do with her making her wonder if they were ever her friends to begin with. Her art turned darker and her plans for the future seemed far less sunny.

Fast forward to 1981 where Jenny is at a laundry mat folding her linens while listening to her favorite broadcast 'Casey's Top 40'. She loves his soothing voice as it cut through her like butter. Her dryer was broken a couple of months back but she was purposely not getting it fixed as she enjoyed getting out of the house and this place did not have many people around. She would create a couple extra loads of laundry just to stay there a little longer. She enjoyed the mindfulness of the ritual and as an added bonus her house would smell like the biggest meadow (at least according to the fabric softener bottle). She liked betting with herself on the status of how her favorite songs would rank or what new song would be introduced which became her weekly focused joy.

All of a sudden a song came on that alerted her attention and sent unpleasant shivers up her spine. She twitched with anger as she collected herself to the realization that her phone number, the one she never changed despite all circumstances, was now being sung at her from the hidden speakers in the ceiling. It was as if it was raining down from the heavens, mocking her very existence.

She gathered her things. Her half wet clothes and unfolded underwear. She threw her things into her car an sped off. She couldn't help but turn the radio on as the song ended with Casey Kasem boasting how this new song could easily take the top of the charts in the coming weeks. He even joked that the singer could be a stalker. She accelerated her speed in a desperate rage. She couldn't be more hot if her hair had started on fire "Heath! That son of a - ," she nodded her head in disgust. She raced to her apartment and just as she reached the door all of her anger dissipated as fast as it came upon. She wrestled her laundry inside and went directly to her answering machine, picked it up and threw it in the garbage. She breathed out loud as if God was the only being that could understand what she was feeling. She looked upwards questioning if her existence as a joke.

A few days after obsessing over the song, she consoled with herself. She laughed about the ridiculousness of it. Yes, this song was about her but in a way it was the best love letter (however twisted) she may ever receive.

It is her birthday and she decides to celebrate alone, she doesn't care for the company of her family or friends right now. She walks to the first bar closet to her house. There were only a few lonely stragglers scattered at the bar and the emptiness was to her liking. She walked up to the bartender and order a Blue Lagoon. Nursing her drink, she eyed the jukebox. She smiled and let the alcohol ease her nerves, she looked down at the panel of songs the music box offered - sure enough she saw it "C7."". She grabbed her quarters and popped a few in the slot.

Walking slightly away, she started to sway her hips along to the groove as the verse chimed in memories of strange nights with weird phone calls and caked-in unwanted attention. She started to sing along and embraced the chorus like a wave crashing full force against her. She thought of herself and that stranger who was the idea of something she thought she needed, but the thoughts washed away into oblivion.

Two of the men seated at the bar spun around in their seats and joined along with her singing, "867-530---." She thought about how she may want to change her number and let out a maniacal laugh, drifting away into a place that only she knew.