The Rivening

Meeting Peter

Before calling Connie, Peter had written out what he was going to say and practiced it out loud several times. He had two versions, one if she answered the phone and one if he left a message. While it would be easier to talk to her on the phone, he found himself wanting to see Connie up close. Jean was the only person he had talked to face-to-face since the fire. It was time for another face-to-face friend.

He went upstairs and took out his binoculars and saw Connie sitting at her desk, talking to someone on the phone. Peter took several deep breaths, lifted the phone, and left his message.

How long would it take her to come over? After she got off the phone, he watched her listen to his message and leave her desk. He raced downstairs, turned off the lights, and put on his mask.

As soon as she knocked, he opened the door and stood back in the dark. Connie smiled into the dim light. He was a little shorter than her, medium height, emanating a spry energy that made Connie wonder how he managed to stay cooped up in his house.

"Peter, I'm so glad to meet you and glad that you called."

She spoke with a slight quaver in her voice. Like she was nervous yet wanting to soldier on. He liked her immediately.

They only spoke for a few minutes. Connie explained about Jean's situation. And that she would be happy to pick-up anything Peter needed from the store. He didn't dissuade her. She didn't pry why he was wearing a mask and standing in the dark. As she left, Peter followed her as far as the edge of light coming into the open front door.

"Call me when you hear anything more about Jean. Or tap on the door. I'm fine. Don't worry about me. I'll let you know if I need anything. And anything you think I can do to help Jean, let me know."

As Connie stepped out into the sunlight, she turned to say good-bye and Peter got a good look at her. After the door closed, he stood stunned. Her eyes. More than 30 years ago, one of the transients from across the street became his friend for a short while. Connie had eyes like him.

Walking to her house, Connie tried to assemble the different pieces of her meeting with Peter. His anxious hovering in the dark seemed to clash with his welcoming, chatty voice. He intrigued her, among other things, Jean had told her that he was a great reader. That could be a good starting place for gaining his trust and building a friendship.