People thought he was crazy.
A creep.
Probably some sort of pervert.
Every now and again, someone (usually a woman) felt guilty about this knee-jerk judgment. She'd wonder if he was retarded (people don't think in politically correct terminology) and scan his face for telltale signs of Downs Syndrome. Between the mirrored sunglasses and big headphones, she wouldn't be able to see enough of his face to tell and she'd remind herself that some mental and intellectual disabilities aren't visible anyway.
Maybe he's had a head injury?
When he got on a bus, they all hoped he wouldn't sit next to them. They wondered if he was going to stink and hope he wouldn't talk to them or ask for money. He didn't guess what people thought based on the dirty looks they gave him or their body language, he knew what they were thinking because he could read their minds.
It started out innocently, earbuds hurt his ears. He decided to get a pair of headphones instead, real headphones. The kind that would fit over his ears instead of inside or on top of them. He didn't want to spend a lot of money since he'd lose or break them eventually. He planned to toss them in his backpack and use them on the bus to and from work.
The electronics section at the thrift shop had all sorts of stuff. Broken transistor radios, old stereos, lots of Walkmans and portable CD players. There was an entire bin filled with headphones: "$1 unless otherwise marked." One-by-one he pulled them out to see if the jack would fit in his iPod. Most were too big, some had torn and scratchy vinyl, some didn't work even if the jack fit. One pair seemed to be a handyman special. It was a full-sized pair for use with a stereo but had a smaller jack spliced onto the cord. He was skeptical when he plugged them in but they worked. He jiggled the chord around a bit to see if the wires would shake loose. Hey, for a dollar he'd give them a try.
In the thrift store, everything was normal. He listened to some Johnny Cash, some Beatles, some Miles Davis. Everything was still normal when he got home and tried them on in front of the bathroom mirror. He was self-conscious about going out in public with them on. He knew he looked stupid and asked Beth if they were too dorky to wear around town. She laughed and said he was adorable when he looked dorky and kissed him.
That Monday morning, everything changed though. He was sitting on the bus across from a scowling man in a business suit and listening to the Four Tops. An old lady with grocery bags was slowly making her way up the ramp the driver had lowered for her.
Jesus Christ! Do we have to stop at every Goddam' corner? Why can't that old lady do her shopping later? People need to get to work!
He was shocked; he couldn't believe that man actually shouted that out. No one else looked shocked though. No one else had even looked up from their sudoku puzzles or magazines. He realized then that the man's face had not changed and his mouth had never moved. He must have just imagined it.
Come on already, you old bag! Sit down and let's get moving! Seniors shouldn't get free rides during rush hour. Stupid old woman.
He turned toward the bored looking teenage girl next to him. She was staring out the window, drinking a Diet Coke.
I don't want to go to stupid school today. I wonder if Trey will be in math 'cause I look hot in these jeans. Math sucks though.
He looked at the attractive redhead across the aisle.
If I can get out by 5:15 I can make it to Dominick's to pick up the cream I need for that potato dish and still get home in time to get things started before Mike and Susan arrive. Should I make a salad too? Crap, I forgot to bring that dry cleaners ticket. Oh well, I can just give them my name. I need to call Cara at lunch today.
He was reading their minds!
He had to experimented with it a bit. He discovered he had to be looking at someone to tune into them and eliminate stray thoughts from other people (he wore the mirrored glasses so people couldn't tell he was staring). It didn't work on kids or pets and animals sensed that there was something different about him. Mr. Fritzy, Beth's cat, took a sudden dislike to him and hissed and ran out of the room as soon as he entered. The neighbors' dog started to bark and growl at him too.
The best place to read minds was on the bus, the train was too loud and he "lost the signal" when it went below ground. If he walked down the street, people would pass too quickly for him to listen in and if he followed behind them on foot he risked confrontation. One woman, who was planning to seduce a cute bartender, pulled out a can a mace when he followed her too long, too close, and too late at night. Even though he knew it was coming, he was barely able to jump back and run off in time. Coffee shops were okay, but too often the people there were reading and he'd just get snippets of their book.
He knew he should turn the headphones over to the government and imagined being a homeland security hero by reading the minds of terrorist suspects. But the government would take the headphones away and he'd never be able to use them for fun again. He wished he could use his power for financial gain but was stumped on how he could wear the headphones at a high stakes poker game or inside a casino(surely they had rules about that). They were useless to him at the horse and dog tracks and it wouldn't work for online gambling either (he tried). He'd need a better source of income eventually, work was a problem. Finding out how to use his mind reading powers took time and then, once he had it figured out, he wanted to do it all the time. He started taking longer lunches, arriving late, and leaving early. Then he took sick and vacation days. Beth would have been furious about that if they had stayed together, they were both supposed to be saving their days for a beach vacation next year.
Beth was a problem in other ways too. He desperately wanted to know what she was thinking but it was hard to come up with reasons to sit around the house in his headphones. With just the two of them there, he really didn't need to look at her. He knew whose thoughts he was hearing. But how could he explain wearing the headphones all the time? At first, he told her he was listening to work related recorded books and using his headphones so she didn't have to hear the dry, technical stuff. He was frustrated that her thoughts were consistent with what she said to him. She must be telling him lies and keeping secrets. He did learn that when he wanted to order pizza, she wanted Thai instead but didn't make a fuss; that she really, really hated the Bears table lamp he had on his nightstand; that she wished he would take responsibility for sending out birthday cards to his family rather than relying on her to do it; and that she liked his friend Josh even less than she let on. He wanted something juicier about her though, he wanted to catch her in bigger deceptions. He wanted to lead the conversation to certain topics and compare what she said to what she was thinking. But how could he have a serious conversation with her if he was pretending to listen to music or recordings?
That ruse only lasted a few weeks anyway. She started to ask too many questions about what he was learning for work, told him it was fine to listen to them on the speakers sometimes, and got annoyed that he did it every night. She started to get suspicious and wondered if he was listening to some sort of porn thing. She wanted to hear what he was listening to. Her feelings were hurt and she felt like he was shutting her out. They started to have more frequent arguments because he had his headphones on all the time.
He got up in the middle of the night so he could listen in on her dreams. The dreams were weird and he wondered if all dreams were like this or just hers. They didn't seem to be the same as his at least. He could not really put the dreams into words, they were just feelings and sensations. He wondered if she was unbalanced. Maybe she was shallow and unintelligent too and that was why he didn't learn big secrets about how she felt about him. Sometimes she pretended to be asleep; she had no interest in having sex with him. He wondered if she had always been this disinterested or if it was related to their recent arguments. He would have loved to have sex with the headphones on but knew she'd never go for it.
He came home before she did and hid in the coat closet. He wanted to find out what she thought about when he wasn't around. He did this a few times before she caught him. She was furious and accused him of spying on her.
"You're crazy! What's happened to you?"
Oh my God he's having some sort of nervous breakdown. There's something really wrong.
"What's the deal with those stupid headphones anyway? What are you really doing?"
Ever since he got those stupid headphones he's been like this!
"You either get rid of the headphones or move out. We can't live like this anymore"
I can't believe I am giving an ultimatum "It the headphones or me" I bet he picks the headphones!"
"Please, tell me what's wrong. We can get help if you need it. We can go to counseling together. I'll go with you."
Maybe I shouldn't be so angry, there must be something wrong with him. Does mental illness run in his family? I don't know if I can deal with a boyfriend with major psychological problems.
He couldn't tell her the truth, the headphones were his and he didn't want to share them. Not even with her. Not to mention, if she knew what he had been doing she'd be even more angry. They might not even work for her and then she'd think he was crazy for real. He denied he a problem; said she was making too much out of it; claimed he wasn't spying on her, just trying to get some peace and quiet away from her nagging; accused her of being paranoid and suspicious; said he'd wear his headphones whenever and wherever he wanted; and refused to talk about it any more. She told him to pack his things and leave. As he got his things together, he heard her crying and thinking about how disappointed and worried she was. She felt guilty and angry. She yelled at him to take his Bear's lamp while thinking that at least she wouldn't have to look at that every morning.
To be continued ...
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