apotheosis

IV.

fonzie had just returned from some menial errand--one of his uncle's thinly-veiled attempts to keep the innocent busy. he entered the shop and immediately saw the woman standing at the counter, more or less being talked at by his uncle. she was lovely, he thought. right away, he could see she was a familiar spirit. she displayed the same sort of deferential disposition when interacting with his uncle. the same deferential gestures. in short, he was in love.
"fonzie," uncle said, "get over here, there's someone i want you to meet." fonzie obeyed. he looked down at his worn and weathered boots, never daring to make eye-contact or break the calculation of this action. he knew if he did, it would be over. she would be gone. he would be forced, then, to see, to know, to become aware of her disinterest. he risked it anyway.
"this is miss traum," uncle said. the woman did not appear to be off-put by his self-effacing nature, in fact, she seemed similarly stricken. this came as a shock to fonzie. in all his years, he'd yet to encounter a member of the opposite sex who did not immediately act repulsed at the mere sight of him. he had learned not to look them in the eyes. it only confirmed his long-held notion that he was a creep--a displaced sideshow attraction--a spectacle in real-life. but miss traum was different. he could tell. he didn't know how. or why. but he had a hunch.
"miss traum, fonzie, works uptown. she's a dancer. you like dancin' don't you, fonz?"
fonzie looked up and then quickly back down at his feet. he knew, somehow, that his uncle was being insincere.
"it's a pleasure to meet you, miss traum," fonzie managed.
"you know, if i didn't know any better, i'd say he's taken a particular liking to you, miss traum," uncle said. "you like her, fonz?"
fonzie blushed. he ignored the question. it only infuriated him. he hated being talked down to, especially when he knew that it was happening. he felt helpless. unable to combat his uncle--the words failing him.
"i gotta go now, uncle. chickens is ready be fed. bye miss traum."
"bye fonzie. i hope to see you around," she said.
he had left the situation abruptly, he knew, but he could barely contain himself. not only was she nothing like the others, but she had actually gone so far as to talk to him--to not dismiss him immediately or even after their brief exchange. suddenly, fonzie felt a surge of something like adrenaline coursing through his brain. he had lied to his uncle. his real motivation for leaving the scene was not to feed the chickens--they wouldn't need fed for another hour--but to escape the unbearable and foreign sensation rising up inside of him. he had never before come this far with a stranger, one whom he was genuinely interested in anyway. he wanted nothing more than to hold onto this one. he decided then that he would do whatever it took to make that a reality, even if it meant evading the issue altogether. he was aware of the delicate nature, the fine line he was forced to walk in order to preserve this bout of fortune and that's what scared him most--the realization that now he was expected to perform, to impress. it was a feeling altogether unfamiliar to him--equal parts invigorating and burdensome. but that was part of the excitement.
he hid behind his uncle's pick-up truck parked outside of the store, within safe watching-distance of all the action and saw his uncle leave the store accompanying miss traum to her vehicle. they were discussing something, though their voices were muffled--inaudible. whatever it was, miss traum seemed hesitant. fonzie knew his uncle well and knew that he could be persistent, that he could make anyone do anything simply because he was the way that he was and that he had been born, it seemed, equipped with the ability--a talent, you might say--to dominate.
miss traum got in her car and left, but not before uncle had walked back, a smug smile, that of a lunatic, fixed so firmly on his bulldog-face.