Anthony Paolucci

A BUMP IN THE ROAD ~ Originally published in Literary Yard, July 20, 2024

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            It finally happened.

            Or did it?

            Theo couldn’t be sure.

            Not yet at least. He needed more time to mull it over. Maybe a few days.

            Or a few months.

            He was there when it happened. Of sound body and mind. His instincts were sharp. Theo was good at reading people – a fairly decent judge of character to boot. And he was very observant. Yet he still wasn’t positive what happened earlier that day at work really meant what he thought it meant. Or at least what he hoped it meant. Theo contemplated the myriad of potential outcomes regarding the incident, the probability of each one, and the pros and cons of them coming to fruition. A new degree of anxiety was reached that evening as he drove home from work in his Honda Fit, struggling to decipher whether Roger, the man with whom he had been mildly but not unhealthily obsessed since Roger first started at the office, had inadvertently, possibly passive aggressively, or perhaps subtly intentionally, maybe accidentally, or even unwittingly, indicated to Theo the attraction was mutual.

           Theo tried to maintain his focus on the road, despite having traveled along the same winding asphalt path countless times, which was tragically riddled in small craters like old acne scars, stubborn swells that refused to yield to time, and a complex system of spidery cracks. For a split second, he wondered where his tax dollars were actually going since they were obviously not being spent on repairing the ancient network of roadways on which he routinely traveled. His hands and feet operated mostly on muscle memory, steering the wheel this way and that with barely a thought. After so many years of driving back and forth to work the same way, Theo had memorized the never-ending array of imperfections blemishing the otherwise smooth surface well enough to anticipate their locations and navigate his way around them.

           The monotony of the drive home, however, allowed a part of his attention to remain on the incident at work. This was both a comfort and a distraction as said incident contributed more to his current state of anxiety than the frustration he felt due to the poor road conditions. In the shallows of his armpits, he could feel the skin dampen. A fine layer of sweat broke out on the back of his neck and across his forehead, and his cheeks flushed with warmth. Was he breathing heavier? So it would seem, given the light fog blossoming on the windshield in front of him. Even the side windows bore evidence of his growing solicitude – a hazy gray cloud slowly spreading outward, engulfing the glass.

           Theo guided the compact vehicle through stretches of both rural and urban landscapes, trees lining the road like bored sentinels one moment only to be replaced by rows of small houses and strip plazas adorned in brightly illuminated signs and gaudy advertisements the next. It was a seemingly endless cycle to which Theo was painfully accustomed, the two types of drab scenery playing leapfrog in his peripheral vision.

           Theo took a deep breath and blew it out his nose in an attempt to avoid worsening the fog on the windshield. He gripped the wheel a little more tightly, preparing himself for what he was about to do. He peeked up at the rearview mirror to ensure it was straight and providing him with maximum visibility. Even though it was, he couldn’t resist adjusting it anyway, despite merely turning it slightly only to turn it back to its original position. While his eyes lingered in the mirror, he took note of the fact there were no cars behind him. Nor were there any in front of him, either, which was surprising, given the time of day. Next, he glanced out the left-hand side mirror to make sure it, too, was straight. Then the other one. Both were as right as rain. Theo even felt his body lean forward a little, as if he were on his bike and about to coast down a steep hill. He needed to concentrate, and the less aware he could afford to be of the car, and any approaching traffic, the better. The gravity of the matter required Theo to shut out all other thought so as to give it his most undivided attention in all of his thirty years of giving unfaltering attention to important situations.

           Roger.

           Today.

           Work.

            For just a moment, Theo’s memories were flooded with the scent of Roger’s cologne. It could have been Acqua Di Giò as easily as Old Spice; it didn’t matter. Given the usual pleasantness that accompanied Roger’s presence in all things, especially how good he smelled, whatever fragrance he might apply after washing himself in the morning only served to enhance the fresh smell of soap and his skin’s natural scent – or was that his shampoo? Did Roger use conditioner? If so, was it a rinse or a leave-in? Did he calculate beforehand which scents would work best when blended with others, or did he just randomly apply everything at once, sampling them perhaps individually in the store, and hope for the best? Such a fascinating mystery, Theo thought. Would that he was brave enough to broach this subject with Roger himself one day, or perhaps it was the mystery of not knowing he found so intriguing?

           Not only did Roger smell amazing, but his sandy-brown hair was expertly trimmed and styled so as to appear both casual and flattering. The bed-head look, as the kids called it, the tousled appearance carefully sculpted and set into place by either putty or mousse. Theo imagined this is what Roger’s hair must also look like when he first woke up in the morning, adorably disheveled after a night of restful sleep. He kept his face clean and smooth, nary a trace of stubble on any given day. Theo would bet his entire collection of bootleg Godzilla movies Roger even used moisturizer. Such devotion to his overall appearance and hygiene! Theo’s mother might be as impressed as he was—

           A short but quick swerve of the wheel, as Theo came to and avoided an unexpected pothole that was not there the last time he came this way. Wasn’t that only yesterday? As people heard him say many times before, the city’s infrastructure was certainly going to Hell.

           Momentary crisis averted, and Theo became once again lost in thought. Roger’s face filled his mind. It was androgynous enough to appeal to both men and women, without sacrificing a morsel of his masculinity. He was like one of those Elves in the Lord of the Rings, but without the long, silky blond hair. His cheekbones were chiseled, his eyes deep blue. And his teeth were as perfectly straight and white as to seem like they were bleached daily and, in fact, veneers. Roger wore no rings or necklaces – he didn’t require any additional ornaments to augment his perfect look. He was simply and naturally stunning in every way.

           Then there were his clothes, mostly earth tones, each piece paired together carefully, no doubt well ahead of the day he wore them. Did Roger plan his outfits for the entire week, Theo wondered? Did that make his life easier – should Theo start doing this? His pondering of these questions was suddenly hijacked by thoughts of Roger’s lean body inside and outside of his attire. The way his slim pants and button-down shirts slightly hugged his form allowed Theo to see a lot of his muscle definition. His leather shoes were always polished to a shine, chosen from a collection of browns and blacks, depending on the rest of his outfit. Sometimes Theo could see Roger’s ankles, his tastefully colored socks peering out from beneath the hem. Roger’s ties were also always on point as well, something many men can never seem to get right. It was an art, matching the perfect tie with the perfect ensemble. Roger was a twelfth degree black belt in just such a thing. A rare and admirable skill Theo himself could only hope to possess someday. He was never good at coordinating ties and outfits, though he was shamelessly impressed by anyone who could pull it off flawlessly—

           Theo yanked the wheel to the right – damn squirrels! They can never make up their minds in the moment which way they want to flee to avoid being hit. He briefly wondered if the entire specie’s suffering of ‘decision paralysis’ justified their all-too-often and untimely ends…annoying little buggers.

           Back in control of the vehicle, Theo was once again in the office, as if having traveled back in time to hours earlier when he and Roger stood alone at the water cooler. It was not unlike any other day at the office, where Theo whiled away the hours filling out analytical reports and entering numbers into a computer. He was a human robot in this regard, blissfully comfortable in his routine and the predictability of what he did to earn a living. Anyone should be so lucky as to have their day laid out before them with no chance of surprises or things going awry. Theo wouldn’t trade it for anything. The same faces greeted him every day – some warmer than others. Periodically, these faces would change. Perhaps one would suddenly not be there one day, only to be replaced by a fresh, new face he would eventually acclimate to as well. The same greetings welcomed him at 9AM, and the same partings of farewell followed him out the door at 5PM. Theo brought the same lunch with him every day, too. If one favors a certain kind of food during a particular meal, why on earth would they ever change it up only to be less fulfilled? No, Theo enjoyed his peanut butter and fluff on white Wonder Bread with the crusts removed. He had since he was a child and, to him, nothing else compared in the lunch food realm. Accompanying his delectable sandwich was a banana, a small container of low-fat peach yogurt, and a Ziploc bag containing a single pickle spear – sweet, not spicy. And though he was sometimes teased for it, Theo liked to bring a cranberry cocktail juice box – the bigger ones meant for adults, though, not the little ones for children. Theo had his dignity, after all—

           A loud screech of the brakes, and Theo stopped the car suddenly in front of a well-manicured lawn to allow a young girl to retrieve a bright red ball that had rolled into the road. He was breathing harder now, his abrupt return to reality one that almost had not occurred in time. The possible tragic outcome shook Theo a bit and it was difficult to rein in his heart, which was galloping away at Mach speed. He decided to take a minute before continuing on his way. That had been too close, the girl locking eyes with him as she stood stock-still in the middle of the road, unconsciously tempting fate. Once the girl seemed to realize she would live to play another day, time unfroze and everything returned to normal. The sounds outside that seemed to have gone silent subtly erupted again and the road home beckoned him. Most of all, his recounting of his experience at work concerning Roger begged him to continue. So, Theo obliged.

           The water cooler. The quintessential location for coworker congregation; here, one interacted with their neighbors, sharing their out-of-work experiences of the past week and upcoming weekend plans with friends and family. The chatter was bland, intentionally uninspiring, and meant to ground one in a sense of relaxed normalcy so as not to become consumed by their professional responsibilities. It wasn’t healthy to be overwhelmed or eternally fixated on reports and numbers; sometimes, a person needed a mental break. Theo recognized and respected this basic importance and so frequently visited the water cooler, steering clear of any exchange of gossip, which he believed poisoned morale and was basically asking for trouble.

           It was during one such visit to the water cooler that afternoon, his back having felt a bit stiff at his desk, that he found himself standing alone with Roger. This had never happened before and he considered the improbable chances of finding himself in such a fortunate yet stressful position. There was no one to act as a buffer, no one whose conversation Theo could safely hide behind or play off of during a moment of speechlessness. There was only him and Roger. He couldn’t simply not speak to him – not only would that be rude, but Roger would interpret that to mean Theo had no interest in him whatsoever. And that simply wouldn’t do. It was certainly not the message Theo wanted to convey. And yet it was Roger who appeared nervous, his eyes going everywhere but Theo – the boring white floor tiles, the dusty artificial plant on the counter, and the flyer taped to the wall informing everyone of the upcoming company picnic (for which Theo intended to be conveniently ill).

           They stood opposite each other, neither reaching for one of the many paper cups stacked neatly beside the bloated blue jug turned upside down on the dispenser. Realizing the ridiculousness of his hesitation, Theo quickly retrieved one from the top of the stack. Immediately after, Roger did the same. The two men giggled nervously, which managed to both alleviate and increase the awkwardness pulsing softly between them.As part of the unspoken ritual, a person was required to fill their cup and stand for a moment drinking it before returning to their cubicle. One was not required to drink the entire contents of the cup, only a few sips perhaps, and then either ask another person how their day was going or inquire about their weekend plans, or their spouse and/or children’s well-being. If you were particularly familiar with the person, all three questions in a single conversation were perfectly acceptable.

           Roger, however, was not just anyone. And so these dialogue options seemed unworthy of his brief company. Roger filled his white paper cup first, Theo following suit. Roger slipped his free hand into one of his front pockets, casually, and not as if he was assuming a defensive posture. Theo mimicked the gesture before he could stop himself. So he didn’t appear as if he was simply imitating Roger (which he was), he wiggled his fingers around in his pocket like he was rooting for something. Pretending as if he couldn’t find it, he removed his hand and placed it on top of the counter, leaning his weight on it so he appeared relaxed (which he wasn’t).

           Both men’s gazes wandered aimlessly about, their silence daring the other to speak first. In a willful attempt to view the situation from a more positive perspective, Theo saw this as a fortuitous chance to engage Roger in conversation without spectators; no one to interrupt them or steal Roger’s attention away from Theo. And no one to judge or criticize whatever Theo might say during the course of their interaction. This also meant no one to witness Theo’s reactions to whatever Roger said, however embarrassing or revealing they may be. Such discreet and ideal conditions – an opportunity like this might not present itself again. That being said, what choice did Theo have?

           Carpe diem and all that.

           Theo cleared his throat. “He-hey…Roger,” he stammered. “Do you like…do you ever play, um, Scrabble?”

           Roger grinned without showing teeth. “Do you mean, like the board game?”

           “Well, yeah. The board game or…the uh, phone app. I guess I like the phone app better. Do you play any games on your phone?” Theo took a quick sip of water.

           Having yet to drink from his cup, Roger glanced down at his feet before looking back up again. “I used to play Candy Crush back in the day, but, um…I don’t know, I got a little bored with it, you know?”

           Theo met Roger’s gaze and nodded his head slowly but firmly, as if Roger just laid bare his deepest, darkest secret. “I…totally get that.”

           Roger set down his cup on the counter next to the water cooler, a bit closer to Theo than seemed necessary. He then fished out of his back pocket a cellphone and began tapping the face with his thumbs. “If you ever want to play,” he uttered, still without looking up, “I don’t mind putting the app on my phone. I’m a bit of an English nerd so I love word games.”

           Theo had not expected this and so felt grossly unprepared. He hastily and ungracefully lowered his cup on the counter as well and plunged his hand into his own back pocket to retrieve his cellphone. Quickly, he pulled up the app, getting ready to guide Roger through the process of setting up a Scrabble account. Only minutes had passed since they first arrived at the water cooler, but it felt like hours. Theo was starting to feel the pressure of needing to return to his cubicle lest someone notice and assume the two men were shirking their duties and report them.

            Roger stepped slightly away from the water cooler and lifted his phone into the air with both hands. “Damn service in this place. I almost never have any bars.” He walked a step or two in random directions, moving his arms about while clutching his phone in search of a connection. When he stopped, he was standing uncomfortably close to Theo who dared to step back merely an inch. “Ah, there we go,” Roger said in triumph, ignoring their close proximity. “Okay, just give me a second to download the app and create a profile. This’ll give me something to do, too, while I’m waiting for my bus after work.”

           “Yeah, sure,” Theo hastily agreed, nodding his head once again, almost too vigorously. He pretended to also be fixated with his phone, as if he was merely passing the time waiting for Roger by scrolling through Facebook or Instagram. Theo was suddenly very thirsty and he willed the sweat threatening to break out on his forehead into remaining locked away in his pores. When he reached for his cup again, however, it was no longer there.

           A second before Theo moved his arm to retrieve his water, Roger had done the same…and accidentally grabbed Theo’s cup.

           Lifting his forefinger in an attempt to gain Roger’s attention, Theo spat, “Wait, that’s my—” But Roger was already drinking from Theo’s cup, the same cup to which Theo’s lips were only recently attached. “—cup.”

           Roger held the cup out in front of him as if noticing it for the first time. One might think he had never seen a paper cup in his life, his expression was so quizzical. “It is?” he asked, without looking at Theo. Roger then glanced at his own cup still sitting on the counter nearby. “Oh well,” he said, before tilting back his head and gulping down the rest of the water.

           Roger had knowingly drunk from Theo’s cup. Theo had tried to spare him the embarrassment of doing so, convinced Roger would be incredibly disgusted, even though he believed Roger would have politely tried not to appear so. However, not only was Roger not disgusted, he returned his mouth to the cup where Theo’s had been shortly before that and took another drink – finished the water, in fact. Nobody does that. Not in this day and age where germs and illness is feared as if it were the Middle Ages again and thoughts of the black plague hounded people’s nightmares. Nobody did that unless they wanted to send a message, convey interest, perhaps of the romantic persuasion. It was akin to the accidental brushing of fingers, perhaps from walking too closely together, where the two hands unintentionally yet pleasantly enter the other’s sacred space. Sometimes, after doing so, the hands become clasped together, fingers interlocking either tightly or loosely, depending on the level of attraction. Roger had just performed the water-cooler-equivalent of their fingers having barely touched…and then clasped his hand tightly around Theo’s by taking the second drink.

           Right? Theo wasn’t misinterpreting any of this…was he?

           After setting down the empty cup, Roger flashed Theo a smile – plenty of teeth this time. “Well, I’m gonna finish this Scrabble thing back at my desk before someone notices how long I’ve been away. I’ll swing by after and get your username so we can play. Sound good?”

           Swing by and not email, he had said. Theo took a second to acknowledge the meaningful difference. “Yeah, sure…sure…Roger, sounds good. I look forward to it.” Theo attempted a grin but it quickly dissolved into a nervous chuckle.

           “Great,” said Roger, placing his hand lightly on Theo’s forearm. “See you soon.”

           And then he was gone, the place on his arm where Roger’s hand had been only a moment ago suddenly warm—

           Theo’s vision blurred as it suddenly adjusted to seeing the road in front of him again – a turn he nearly forgot, despite having driven on automatic pilot for most of the way so far. He turned the wheel hard to the right, the sound of the back tires screeching reverberating in his ears as he completed the Dukes-of-Hazzard-worthy maneuver. If he was breathing heavy before, his breath was coming out in huge gasps now. That was close, and he had risked nearly running off the road rather than safely slowing down and merely backtracking a bit. What was he thinking? Where was his head, besides resting on imaginary-Roger’s chest as he listened to him talk about anything? Theo struggled to get his breath under control, lightly pressing the brake pedal and assuming a more appropriate speed, which helped him to regain his composure.

           Once order had been restored to his evening drive, and he was breathing like a normal person again, Theo returned to the sequence of events that currently had him both terrified and elated.

           Roger.

           In his customary fashion, yes, Theo could easily be overthinking everything that happened. He could be reading into the fundamental details with the biggest metaphorical magnifying glass the world has ever seen – as he was wont to do, especially if it was something he really wanted. Things had occurred and things were said that pointed to a multitude of possibilities. Roger may have been flirting with him. Roger might even desire him, either romantically or platonically. It didn’t matter. For all he knew, Roger had been watching Theo from afar all this time as well, hoping such a thing would eventually occur as what had taken place at the water cooler that day.

           Or…

           None of it meant anything more than what it appeared to be on the surface. Roger was merely being friendly. Perhaps he was shy and found it difficult to speak to people when he first met them. Perhaps he was genuinely interested in playing online Scrabble. Perhaps he was humoring Theo in hopes of the entire encounter being over all the more quickly. But the biggest perhaps of all might be that Roger simply wasn’t uncomfortable sharing a cup with a strange man. After all, Theo knew very little about him, if anything at all, aside from his impeccably good genes, dashing taste in clothes, and congenial mannerisms (and, of course, that he was an “English nerd” and loved word games). That wasn’t much to go on to form any sort of substantial opinion. Perhaps Roger grew up with brothers, played all-boys sports, or went to an all-boys school, and so was desensitized to such things. Who knew? Perhaps Theo would learn the truth down the road, if anything came of them playing Scrabble on their phones together. Perhaps they would have many more encounters at the water cooler, which might lead to a deeper understanding of each other. Perhaps they would do more than grin and say “hello” when they passed each other in the hallway, or when they arrived at or left work for the day.

           Perhaps.

           Perhaps.

           Perhaps.

           Down the road.

           Yes, down the road. Sometimes Theo believed he deserved good things. This mostly applied to polite waiters, a low ticket number when waiting in line at the deli, and a convenient dip in gas prices when he was planning to visit his mother one state over. Never in matters of the heart, though. His poor self-esteem would never allow for something like that. So he mostly just hoped for the best while expecting the worst. Most of the time, he was disappointed. Perhaps Roger entering his life is when everything would finally turn around in his favor, though he didn’t have the highest of hopes such a thing would come to pass. Wishful thinking. Perhaps his negative mindset regarding the water cooler incident was just a bump in the proverbial road. A road that led to Roger and him becoming better acquainted, regardless of the nature of their relationship. Maybe this was a realistic thing to hope for. A bump in the road; a road that, however nerve-wracking and imperfect, ended at a much-desired destination. This was something that Theo—

           WHAT THE HELL!

           These were the last words that crashed through Theo’s mind before he threw all of his weight into turning the steering wheel to the left, the vehicle careening hard to one side and skidding diagonally across the road. The panicked phrase, which he had uttered many times in his life for a variety of reasons, punched through the thick daze and dreamy sequence that had become Theo’s thoughts about Roger with all the might of an angry god.

           Awash in the glow of the headlights, Theo saw something in the road.

           A large stone…no, wait…a bag.

           An ordinary brown paper bag, bulging slightly with the mystery of its contents, and folded shut.

           And it was lying directly in the path of his car.

           At the last possible second, Theo had attempted to swerve around the bag out of instinct – there was no telling what was inside. Perhaps something that can damage or puncture his tires, thus leaving him stranded on the side of the road for hours while he waited for a tow truck. Additionally, the sun had almost disappeared behind the horizon and darkness was settling in. The stars were out and an unforgiving moon was glaring down at him.

           Try as he might, however, Theo failed to avoid it completely. One of his tires ran over the bag, the feeling of the vehicle passing over something solid causing his stomach to ripple with revulsion and fear. For, in the final moments before this happened, as Theo’s frantic gaze remained fixed on the bag, he could swear…

           …he saw the bag move.

           Ever so slightly, yet movement nevertheless. Implying…something alive was inside the bag before Theo crushed it with his car.

           By now, the car had come to a complete stop. There were no other vehicles in the vicinity. Theo was essentially alone. No one witnessed the incident. No one to judge his actions, save the cruel moon.

           In times of extreme distress, Theo was often overcome by random thoughts. Childhood memories, scenes from a movie, or even snippets of past conversations. Perhaps it was his mind’s subconscious way of distracting him or comforting him. He never attempted to understand it; he only valued its effects. Right then and there, while looking up at the sky, he recalled a line from one of his favorite poems:

           Heavy with moonlight,

           I grasp at shadows

           Leaking from my eyes

           Like oily tears

           Theo dared to turn around, the motion of his head so slow as to seem to take years for his eyes to face the opposite direction. They stopped directly where the bag lay in the middle of the road, silent and unmoving, flattened grotesquely against the hard, gray surface. There was just enough daylight left to behold the bag and its sorry state, and that was when Theo noticed it. The dark red liquid pooling beneath the bag, slowly creeping across the asphalt like malicious shadows encroaching upon a bright summer day.

           Theo couldn’t recall the moment he stopped breathing. He could only remember afterward the clarity of what occurred manifesting in his thoughts. Whatever was in the bag was either wounded and therefore suffering…or dead. Whichever one, Theo was the cause. Why this being or creature was placed inside the bag and discarded in the road in the first place was beyond him. Had the bag fallen off a scooter or bike? The roof of a car? Abandoned in the road on purpose? Was the owner of the bag hoping a vehicle would come along and perform the very grisly task Theo had unwittingly carried out because they hadn’t the courage to do it themselves?

           A parade of macabre possibilities passed through his mind rapidly, the majority being the endless variety of living things that may have spent their final moments on earth trapped in a bag only to be pulverized by a car driven by a lovesick and distracted driver. A bag of newborn kittens the owner wanted to be rid of? A nest of mice someone found in their attic? A sick pet, like a ferret or guinea pig, that someone couldn’t afford to have put down? As he found himself slipping down this rabbit hole of heartbreaking scenarios, Theo’s thoughts turned even darker, each one more gruesome than the next. Whether out of fear or denial, he managed to reel them in before his imagination got the best of him.

           The irony was not lost on Theo. While contemplating the proverbial bump in the road in regards to his love life, he experienced a bump in the road of a more literal kind. Was there meaning in the connection, he wondered, the universe’s way of explaining things to him more dramatically? Was it a sign of the potential repercussions should Theo pursue Roger’s company in anything but a friendly way?

           Who knew?

           Nobody, that’s who.

           There was only one thing to do. Whether Theo liked himself very much afterward for doing so didn’t make a difference. The alternative was too much of a risk, the likely result being something from which he might never recover. And Theo never did handle guilt very well. Just as slowly, he turned his head back around to face forward, placed his quivering hands on the wheel at ten and two, steadied his breath to the best of his ability, and resumed his journey home.

           Had Theo bothered to inspect the bag up close, he would have noticed the punctured juice box from which cranberry cocktail spilled out onto the road. Part of a meager lunch that also consisted of a bologna sandwich and a plastic baggie stuffed with nacho-flavored Doritos. He would have also noticed the child’s cellphone – a prepaid device their mother insisted on them bringing to school in case of an emergency. Right before the bag suffered the wrath of Theo’s car, the child’s mother had been calling, the phone buzzing and vibrating incessantly inside its paper confines…for the child never came home that day.

           Instead, Theo returned home to his life – considerably shaken but not in shock. He began his nightly routine in silence, already thinking about tomorrow and what he would say to Roger if he managed to summon the courage to speak to him again. After all, they had a Scrabble date—sort of.

           Perhaps Roger would honor it.

           Perhaps not.

           After all, Roger never did swing by Theo’s cubicle before the end of the day to exchange usernames like he said he would. Theo contemplated going over to Roger’s cubicle before they went home but thought better of it. He didn’t want to seem too eager or pushy. Besides, Roger might swing by his desk tomorrow instead. Perhaps doing so merely slipped his mind and Roger was drowning in a lake of regret at that very moment. Perhaps he would make up for it tomorrow and bring in coffee and bagels for him and Theo. Perhaps he would simply apologize and they would play their first game.

           Then again…perhaps not.

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