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Chapter 26
It was now early evening. The sun was flooding past the trees at the bottom of the garden and into my lounge lighting and warming everything in its way. I sat on the couch that Tommy had used for a bed trying to feel positive.
But instead of creating a cheerful ambience, the sun's slanting rays merely showed the lack of furniture and personal touches needed to make this empty apartment into a home. More than anything else, the people I was expecting to be here were missing. Jennifer was out there somewhere with Ron sipping coffee and gazing into his skinflint eyes and she'd been doing it for far too long.
To take my mind off where she was and what she was doing, I drifted into the cavern with its jumble of computers and started clearing a space to work. Technical matters took over and within minutes, I was completely absorbed. It wasn't until two hours later that I realized that Jennifer still hadn't returned.
What had been a niggle in my mind, irritation or perhaps disappointment that maybe she didn't feel entirely the way for me but I felt for her, had escalated into a depressing cloud over our relationship. She'd said that Tommy was safe with a friend but why wasn't he safe with me in the home I had offered them?
My brain was feeling blitzed with a constant stream of caffeine from a jar that Jennifer had left in the kitchen. The plates were still dirty in the sink from Tommy's breakfast that morning and it looked as if other shopping she had done was minimal. It didn't look like the actions of somebody who was going to stay.
There was some cereal and the remains of a small carton of milk. It was very nutritious but it took the edge of my hunger.
I went back to preparing Smokey's web pages. The main page was set up with a distinctive Smokey's style that I was quite proud of. The secret was in the black background against which were portrayed billows of gently drifting golden smoke. From time to time, further puffs of smoke drifted out from various parts of the screen carrying informational messages. The whole ambience was of a dark exciting entertainment center where almost anything could happen. My main fear was that it probably would.
Gerda was there too, strutting her stuff. It was amazing how confident she looked despite her feelings inside. I wondered whether her new admirer would be round to see her this evening.
When I suggested that Jennifer and Tommy should move in with me, I believed it would move them out of danger. In a single step, her ex had reversed the benefits of my offer. Jennifer's best option now was to avoid Smokey's and anyone involved in Smokey's - and that unfortunately included me.
Smokey's embryonic web site was prepared and now I set about promoting it. The main search engines and directories took me a couple of hours and then I started visiting bulletin boards.
The search engines and directories wouldn't become effective for some weeks, possibly months and I needed some immediate traffic. Perhaps Ron could be persuaded to increase the advertising locally around Smokey's - but I thought it was unlikely. At least the web site address was now prominently displayed above the bar. It wouldn't bring in anybody new but it could help with advertising through local word of mouth. Web sites were still a talking point.
The bulletin boards and some reciprocal links were my best bet for providing some immediate traffic and it wasn't long before the window containing Smokey's chat room trickled into action.
"High people ... nice site... nice bar ... nice stripper ... but the beer tastes like it's been drained through the management's jock strap!"
A dude called 'Beer Belly' had posted the message.
"Maybe one minus out of four is not too bad," I typed. "I'll tell them to strain it through twice next time?" I signed myself as 'Lowly Smokaholicus'.
"What about having a 'visiting beer'? You could change it each week to provide extra variety."
Beer Belly wasn't going to give up easily on his favorite subject. I was terminally bored already.
"A good talking point," I typed, hoping to mollify him. "Is there anyone out there that feels the same."
I knew that there was no one else in the chat room at the moment but I also knew he didn't. With a bit of luck he wouldn't wait too long before going somewhere else.
"Hi dude! Care for a private chat?"
It was signed 'Dancing Partner G.'
I opened a private discussion room and watched G. enter hoping it was Gerda.
"Guess where I am - you won't like it," the visitor announced. It had to be Gerda.
"I hate to think." This was a suitably non-committal reply from me in case it wasn't.
"I'm sitting here at the computer belonging to your favorite obsessive in his very own house. He's popped out to get some provisions to make dinner. I can't tell you how nice it is to be so well looked after."
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