Tether

At the wedding reception, Isaac Douglass’ gaze shifted to one of the tables in the back, along the opposite wall. He hadn’t noticed the woman there before.

Surrounded by all these people orbiting the newly wedded couple and basking in the warmth, the glow, of their union, this woman gazed at the ceiling. Maybe he was drawn to her distance due to his own.

Following her gaze, he tilted his head upwards. Just the rented room’s chandelier. He didn’t know much about chandeliers, or interior design, but it just looked like a chandelier.

Focusing on the woman again, he realized he was staring. Of course, he had been staring a minute ago, but now that she stared back, he flushed with anxiety. Punch caught halfway down his throat.

The mystery woman’s countenance was statuesque a moment, then she pulled back her lips, baring teeth in a vicious, angry snarl.

Isaac choked. His eyes screwed shut and he fought the urge to vomit. He coughed for a moment until his throat cleared. Drinking more punch also helped.

When he looked for her, she was gone. He wished he had asked her to dance instead of staring like an idiot.

He rubbed his chest.

A young boy set his cake and punch atop the table and climbed up onto the mystery woman’s former chair. It was a little high, so he folded his legs, sitting on the backs of his inner thighs and the bottoms of his shoes. He ate and smiled.

Isaac hadn’t tried any of the wedding cake. Maybe there was some left. But mostly he wished someone would get the boy a booster of some kind, or direct him to the kids’ tables—his posture was all wrong and bad for him, but kids were wont to do things like that. Still, he wished someone would attend to the boy.

Movement, someone nearing him, drew Isaac’s gaze. His friend jogged up, mimed Isaac’s chest rubbing. “Spotted you a mile away. I’ve got some Tums on me.” He reached into his pocket.

Isaac didn’t need the tablets, he never did, but he’d also never been able to explain his anxious quirk to his friend. “Thank you.” He opened his palm. Pransukh dropped two into its center. He popped them into his mouth and chewed. His co-worker poured himself a punch and stood along the wall with him, looking out at the wedding party.

“So, besides the heartburn, are you enjoying yourself?” Pransukh asked.

He thought of the mystery woman. Weddings often brought people together from the farthest reaches, and once over, the congregation would disperse back to their remote alcoves in the world.

At a wedding eleven years ago, he’d met his Uncle Landon: his mother’s brother and an enigmatic, seven-foot bear of a man who drew in everyone around him, even the ever-disengaged Isaac. “You’re like a balloon, Isaac,” Landon had said. “You’ve got just enough helium to wander about, but not away. You hover, just out of everyone’s reach.”

He never saw his favorite uncle again. Maybe he hadn’t made the effort.

“Yeah,” Pransukh said upon receiving no response. “Sometimes these things aren’t for everyone. Next time I’ll invite you to a buddy’s bachelor party.” He gave Isaac a nudge on the shoulder.

Pransukh the happiness-engine. He never stopped trying to lift others up. Twenty minutes ago, Isaac had seen him dance like a fool to see a little girl with a cast on her leg laugh.

“It’s not a bad party. Everyone’s happy. The bride and groom are glowing,” Isaac prompted, wished his friend knew the invitation to the event was not in vain.

Pransukh agreed. He proceeded to name nearly everyone in the room and explained how he knew them all. With the man’s wealth of knowledge, Isaac saw a chance, a means that had been under his nose the whole time. He listened and waited until his friend finished a funny story about the groom.

They sipped their punch simultaneously, Isaac more in preparation for his question than a need to quench his thirst. Pransukh started to tap his foot to the beat. He resolved to ask now before the man lost himself in the music on the dance floor. “There was a woman earlier…” He pointed to her table as the young boy left. “Over there where the kid was. My height, probably, very short black hair, dark skin — ”

“Wait, my dark or your dark?” Pransukh asked.

“Well, darker than me, but lighter than you.”

“Okay.” He folded his arms, concentrated on Isaac’s face.

“And her hair was sort of…” He mimed the styling. Pransukh cocked an eyebrow, shook his head, and Isaac knew he failed to describe it aptly and moved on. “She was about our age, wearing this jade dress with a matching purse, I think.”

Pransukh stroked his beard, then snapped his fingers. “Hang on. Wait here.”

Isaac’s friend walked to a nearby table and consorted with its occupants. Pransukh approximated the mystery woman’s height, raising a hand above his head by four or five inches. The middle-aged man and woman at the table spoke among one another as Pransukh crouched by the table.

The couple looked serene. They knitted the fingers of their right and left hands across the table. Pransukh placed his hand on the couple’s own in thanks, rose, and hurried back.

A smile grew on his face. “Uma. Uma Kaur. Un-rec-og-niz-able.” He emphasized the syllables with a flat, chopping gesture. “I noticed her at the wedding, but had no idea it was little ninja Uma.”

“You know her?”

“Knew her.” He pointed at Isaac. “And not from your description. We grew up here. Haven’t seen her in, oh, nineteen years? At least. I am telling you, man, she was a scrappy little ninja.” He erupted with laughter.

Isaac, too, found himself smiling. “What?”

Pransukh composed himself. “So, this one time, I spend all day being nasty to her, throwing paper wads at her, making jokes about her, calling her names in Hindi when the teacher’s in the room and in English when she steps out — family emergency or something. Anyway, I keep at it for the entire class. The whole room is oohing and egging me on, and the whole time Uma’s taking it in stride. She won’t even turn around to acknowledge that I’m getting under her skin, right?”

“Right.”

“So, she waits, a week, maybe two. I’m coming home from school, walking down the sidewalk with the incident completely out of my mind, and all of a sudden I hear the whirring of bike wheels coming up fast. I turn just in time to see her drop her bike before she lays into me. Just wails on me, man! I’m doing everything I can to get her off me, trying to cover up, but she’s got me pinned and she’s finding every exposed part of me. Brother, she was hitting hard!”

Pransukh laughed, wagged his head side to side. Isaac was torn, but chuckled; his friend was one of the best people he’d ever known, but the cruelty he described here deserved a response of some sort, especially from an adult authority figure. Uma had responded like an angry pre-teen and with violence. It wasn’t right, but it was understandable.

Pransukh downed the last of his punch, smacked his lips.

“So, what happened then?”

“To Uma? Nothing. At least not on account of me saying anything. I was too afraid to report it to the school. I told my dad I got jumped, didn’t see by whom. I threw my favorite lunch box and my brand new shoes in the river to give some weight to the lie. Of course, Dad found out eventually. From her parents, I think. Last time I ever picked on another kid in school, I’ll tell you that. It’s all about good karma now, man.”

The man seemed to stare through the room, back through time and space, back to his juvenile, vindictive and prideful self. The humility and kindness that dignified his features now would make him unrecognizable to Uma, too, Isaac thought.

“So you never saw her again?”

“No. She moved shortly after that, according to her cousin and his wife.” He nodded to the couple who helped identify Uma. “She came back here to see her old classmate get married: Mrs. Sandra Dhatri Castle. Sandra tracked her down on Facebook. Been in touch for a couple months. I tell you what, though, if you’re interested in her, don’t let that whole ninja thing scare you, okay? I think she was just going through a phase back then. We all were at one time or another.”

Before he had the chance to reassure him that he was just asking, only curious and trying to solve a mystery, the little girl with the cast came up to Isaac. “Excuse me, may I borrow your friend?”

“Certainly.”

“Hey, don’t I get a say?” Pransuhk asked.

The girl just grinned, took his hand, and led him back to the dance floor, lobbing her thanks to Isaac over her shoulder.

Pransukh shrugged at Isaac. “Duty calls, Brother!”

Isaac couldn’t help but laugh as he took a seat.

What was Uma really like as a person now? Had she come back only for Sandra’s wedding? Was she planning on sticking around? Would he see her again or get a chance to ask? What was it about her that pulled him in? Isaac hypothesized answers to these questions, and more, for over half an hour.

Pransukh had lost his jacket and tie and was breaking it down with women his age. Isaac was exhausted just watching the extroverted man draw on a limitless reserve of energy.

All evening, the bride had shuttled between texting on her phone and getting her groove on with her husband John Castle. When her husband was tired, she danced with everyone else who could keep up — mostly Pransukh, the dynamo — until the groom was rested enough to return to the dance floor. Unfortunately, Mr. Castle was in his rest period again. She set her sights on Isaac, walking purposefully toward his table. Behind her in the distance, her husband pleaded wordlessly for Isaac to accept that he might rest a bit longer.

Sandra’s quiet frame blocked Isaac’s view of her poor John’s pleas. “Hi. It’s Isaac Douglass, right? Pransukh’s friend?” She smiled, pulled a lock of raven hair behind an ear that stuck out, not laughably, but in an almost elfish way.

He nodded. Sandra walked out of his line of sight, revealing a beaming Pransukh on the dance floor. His friend gave him a thumbs up, which only received a frown from Isaac. He wasn’t one for surprises.

He looked around for Sandra and found her returning to his table — with Uma at her side. Isaac stood abruptly.

“Isaac Douglass, Uma Kaur. Uma, this is Isaac.” Mrs. Castle gave him a brief smile, squeezed Uma’s hand, and walked away, back toward a fast-rising Mr. Castle, his stamina apparently renewed.

“Hello.” Her voice was an octave, maybe two, higher than he expected. Nimble Sandra’s voice was lower than Uma’s.

“Hi.” He outstretched his arm a moment before she did the same.

They shook hands, then he pulled out her chair. Isaac sat across from her.

“Hey, you, uh, you okay?” Uma asked, concern in her voice.

“Yes?” Did he not seem okay?

“I mean, I freaked you earlier what with the face and all. Really sorry about that. You started coughing, I got an important call at the same time, and I just… Yeah, I could’ve handled it better.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Though, I have to admit I was pretty startled.”

“We were both checking each other out, and I just thought it would be fun to be weird. Thought it’d get a laugh out of you. Sorry.”

“Please, it’s all right. I’m fine.”

“Good. And I see you’re not going to deny you were checking me out.” She winked at him, an exaggerated gesture more comedic than it was sexual.

He smiled. “Guilty, as are you.”

“So, what’s Sandra been telling you about me?” She set her purse down, then met his gaze. “I didn’t see you at the wedding. Much like this party, I kept dipping out when no one would notice to take and make calls, but you weren’t there. I’d have remembered you.”

“I’d just missed the wedding due to something at work, but the reception has been wonderful. I’m glad I made it.” He was pretty sure she’d just paid him a compliment, but his brain was still processing it at its typical social interaction speed: glacial. “Sandra’s told me nothing about you, actually. I only know what Pransukh told me.”

She squinted at him slightly. “Hmm. Who misses an entire wedding for work?” Her eyelashes were lovely.

Isaac scrambled for what to say. An attempt at humor? “Who leaves a man to die, choking on punch, for a phone call?”

“Touché. I’m really glad you’re alive, though.”

“Me too. Do you mind if I ask how it went, the phone call?”

“Good. Really good. I pitched them my product, business plan, what regions I can target. They’d like me to come in on Monday for an interview.”

“Tech entrepreneur?”

“If I get the investment, and if everything works out with prototyping, yes. Two years between jobs or unemployed. Eight years in the Air Force before that. You?”

“Thank you for your service, Uma. Me, I work at ThinkGreen Labs with our mutual friend.” He nodded to the dance floor.

“Small world. I’m in clean tech, too.” Uma watched the couples dance, bobbed her head to the beat, and hummed along with the lead singer.

Pransukh waved at her from the dance floor.

Uma waved back. “Pransukh Talwar.”

“He said you two knew each other when you were kids. Said you were responsible for changing him into the kind-hearted soul he is today.”

“You know, I recognized him at the wedding as soon as I saw him. I was just too embarrassed to tell him I was that kid. I must’ve been eleven or twelve at the time. We were both pretty rotten back then.” Uma faced Isaac. “I’m glad he turned out to be such a good egg.”

“The best friend I could ever ask for. And I think you turned okay.”

“Besides what I’ve told you, you don’t know me, Isaac. I’m still a bit of a stinker when I want to be.”

Uma was beautiful. Any man, fool or wise, could see that. Isaac imagined Uma learned to control her mean streak, learned how to use it efficiently, channel it to deal with others growing up, in school, the military, and in her work-life balance. “I suppose you don’t really know me, either.”

“I’d like to.”

“Would you like to get coffee?” It was the first thing that came to his mind.

“Are you free next Saturday, or will you stand me up for work?”

“I’ll be free. In the meantime, would you like to dance?”

“As soon as they put on a slower track. Something more my speed.”

“Mine, too, honestly.”

Uma smiled and Isaac felt her tether pull him a little closer.

END