A few words for Fanny, 3 - Those Eyes

A few words for Fanny is a short fiction serial inspired by the act of assembling a jigsaw puzzle wordlessly with a friend.

This is Episode 3. Go to the link below to start at the beginning.

There was the rec center in the middle of the park, its promising blue doors less than fifty yards away. Alex sprinted for it.

He stumbled over the metal threshold, still looking over his shoulder. Straightening, he turned back to the open doors. No nightmare birds in sight. The laughter of the strangers outside became distant, and then only imagined, as his eyes adjusted to the indoor light. Heart still drumming in his ears, Alex surveyed the entryway while trying to regain some composure.

The musty odor of indoor sports was in the air, the squeak of basketball shoes sounding from the open court doors to the left. A door and two ticket-window slots occupied most of the entry space. Behind the windows, a plain frizzy-headed woman of about forty glanced up at him from her seat at a wide counter next to three clipboards with pens on chains. Beyond her were assorted items: bins of basketballs, soccer balls, volley balls, red foursquare balls, tether balls on ropes, and ping-pong sets in nets on a pegboard next to a rack of shelves where the dented board game boxes from Candy Land to Monopoly, and a surprisingly tall tower of colorful jigsaw puzzles were haphazardly stacked.

A soda vending machine hummed loudly to his right, next to a snack machine with those unpredictable corkscrew dispensers, and three beat-up cafeteria-style picnic tables. The only occupant was at the first table, facing his way, hunched over a semi-assembled rectangle of jigsaw puzzle edges. She looked up at Alex from under a grey hoodie zipped snugly up to her throat while brushing a length of dark hair from her face, tucking it over an ear beneath the hood.

She did not smile, but looked openly into his eyes. Those eyes held Alex frozen. They were not quite green, not quite grey or light brown but an indescribable color of hazel framed by dark lashes. Her naked face was freckled from cheek to cheek across a prominent angular nose. A thin scar like a perfect sliver of new moon curved from under her left eye to the lower corner of her mouth, but instead of marring her face, the scar seemed to define it, bringing attention to her relaxed unmoving lips and up again to her eyes. Those eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes Alex had ever seen.

She nodded to acknowledge him, and without ever smiling, moved her head in such a way that Alex felt not invited but expected to join her at the table. Then she lowered her gaze to concentrate on the puzzle.

Alex took a breath and walked over slowly, as if she were a wild creature that might bolt at the smell of the adrenaline pounding through his veins. He carefully weaved his legs into the seat across from her and sat as still as he could. She glanced up to acknowledge him before continuing her work.

He watched her slender hands gracefully sifting through the puzzle box. When she went to place another edge piece, he noticed a scraped and worn plastic tag fastened over her left chest. FANNY. Maybe she worked at Target or something. The name might be more appropriate attached to a late middle-aged woman dressed in polyester and serving coffee to his grandma at Denny’s, but who cares. Alex summoned his courage and reached out a nervous hand. “Hi Fanny. I’m Alex.”

She gave him a gentle smile, more from her eyes than her mouth, and touched his hand, her delicate fingers warm and dry in Alex’s damp meaty palm. Then she pointed. . .

To be continued. . .

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• Sat., 8/1 — August Post Schedule + Episode 4 of A few words for Fanny

Odds may crop up here and there as inspiration strikes.

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