CHAPTER 2 - The girl of Denton
Frank drove calmly to the center of Denton. It was a sunny Sunday with very blue sky and big and fluffy clouds above the heads of the inhabitants of the small town. It was, moreover, quite silent, since most of the population was in the church next to the main square. Frank heard the bells ringing, announcing midday and the end of the mass, and went with the pick- up truck to the square to watch those who were leaving the sacred building. Discreetly, the Doctor waited until, one by one, the citizens left the large ornate door, and observed, lingering for a while on the face of each one of them, concluding, without exception, they were all unhappy in their small limited lives. Elders who couldn't enjoy the sexuality of their youth to the fullest and who thought that age no longer allowed them to try; young people, who looked at the older and saw on them their own depressing future; virgins, who tied their dignity to this insignificant condition; closeted gays, who, therefore, were trying to prove their manhood through hate speeches; and depraved, who felt ashamed to have surrendered to the temptation of the flesh.
Frank wasn't sure from where to start. He couldn't decide, regarding those people, who would be more useful for his research or with whom he could try to interact in order to, perhaps, understand that mind better. He took so much time to make his choice that very soon people began to disperse, returning to their homes. So, when Frank realized that people would no longer leave the church, he started again the engine of the vehicle, sighing in disappointment. Maybe he would have more luck next week if he returned on Sunday.
He was treading slightly the accelerator to leave the square, mentally cursing himself, annoyed about not being able to even get out of the pick-up truck, when the Doctor gave a last glance at the church and saw over there, in the gardens, seated and lonely, a woman in her late twenties, who certainly had not been at the mass during that morning. Frank stopped the car and watched her for a few minutes. The scientist had been studying the inhabitants of the city for so many years that he could tell he knew, at least of view, all families of Denton and its members; that girl, however, was unknown: he had never seen that face before, so, maybe because of this, she had suddenly called so much attention. She was a very ordinary girl, to be honest. Her curly hair, falling like waterfalls to the waist, were dark brown, but shone in light and almost imperceptible shades of red as the sunlight reflected on the strands, and it couldn't find a harmonious pattern like the other girls' elaborated curls, who often went to the hairdresser; her height and her body were median, but Frank realized she had large and agile hands well as a feminine face, but at the same time with more marked, stiff and square traces. She also wore ordinary clothes, but they didn't match exactly what girls of her age used to wear. Other women, for what the stranger noticed, usually wore skirts, colors like pink and yellow, high or low heels, and were always with accessories, such as barrettes or headbands on their hair. That one, however, wasn't so feminine, even though she didn't dress up in men's clothes; the wider and blue pants, the low flat and the white shirt with buttons and sleeveless, well as the almost total absence of ornaments, made her, at the same time, masculine and feminine. That moment, the scientist felt almost immediately a kind of empathy for the girl, because both had one thing in common: by the standards and human expectations, the two of them didn't dress like what was termed by society as belonging to their gender, using freely what made them feel good and nothing else.
Frank opened the door of the pick-up truck and got out of the vehicle, walking slowly and with his hands in his pocket straight to the garden, toward the young lady. She seemed to be notching up the ground with gardening tools, planting seeds, maybe. As he approached, he saw in the corner of his eye the priest getting out of the church and going to the girl; they talked briefly and then the ecclesiastical went away, as she stood up and clapped her dirty hands in a cloth. When the Doctor was close enough to be noticed, she looked up and stared him deeply. Frank stopped and returned the look in silence. Neither of them could say why, but, for some brief and heavy moments, both looked at each other, saying nothing. It was as if some kind of tension had emerged between the nine feet that were separating them, almost as if the air in that space was gone and only a vacuum existed there, sucking them. Frank realized that his breath had stopped and then he heavily sighed when the tension suddenly was broken by the first word the woman uttered:
"Hello." Frank took a deep breath as he took his hands out of his pockets, without losing eye contact. She seemed less tense than him, but she looked a little shy since she was holding one elbow with the hand of the other arm. "Can I help you?"
Frank looked around in a confused gesture, as if he was searching for someone behind him that she could be talking to. But no one was there except him. The Doctor cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, smiling discreetly. Running a hand through his hair, he said in a voice, which he tried to make sound as natural as possible, without his characteristic affectation and accent:
"Good afternoon." And he quickly thought about how to begin a conversation. "I haven't seen you at the mass today." Frank didn't know what to say. Suddenly, he realized that a bead of sweat slid from his forehead down to the side of his jaw, but he couldn't be sure if it was happening because of the sunny day or if it was due to his nervousness. He glanced at the sky, rationally feeling the temperature, and admitted to himself that it wasn't hot enough to make him sweat by just standing there, so the stranger would have to admit: he was nervous; it was the first time, in all these years on planet Earth, that he was talking to a human being, and only now he seemed to feel the weight of this action. He had been so anxious to leave the Castle to carry out his research that he didn't think what impact it would have on himself. He was doing something unprecedented and, as in rare moments of his life, he was speechless.
The young woman opened her mouth to answer him, but stopped the movement halfway, staring at Frank. She seemed quite disconcerted and a hint of mistrust could be noticed through the tic that affected the corner of her mouth when she tried to force a smile. Very soon the Doctor understood what was happening: he was a stranger in a small town. It was natural that at these places all inhabitants knew each other, at least by sight or name, so be addressed like that by a complete stranger was, at least, suspicious. The girl was intimidated, and it wasn't without any reason. Thus, opening an embarrassed smile, Frank continued:
"I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself." And he held out his hand for a greeting, like he always saw humans doing in situations like that, while he was diminishing the distance between the two. "I'm Doctor Frank N. Furter. I live nearby and I never passed by Denton before, I apologize if I scared you."
Giving a single and low giggle, as if she was mocking of what he said, she answered:
"I'm not scared." And, without hesitation, she held out her hand to greet him firmly, without shyness. Frank saw it as a way of her to impose her presence without showing that she was, at least a little, coerced. A brave girl, he could soon notice. The Doctor, however, didn't press and lightly shake the girl's hand as expected, but he took it to his lips, placing at her skin a simple kiss.
"Enchanté.", said the alien.
Even after the gesture, their hands didn't let off for a brief moment. While the skins touched, the stranger could see an almost undetectable change at the woman's face: the initial tension that marked her traces was gradually slipping away. She seemed to breathe with relief, as if the touch had transferred to her veins a dose of soothing, tranquility and confidence. Frank smiled satisfied: he knew this would be the effect of his gesture. Although he had never interacted with humans before, he knew very well one of the reasons why such involvement was forbidden during his research: due to an energy transmission capacity between bodies, Transylvanians had a certain power over earthlings, as if they had a real mesmerizing effect over them. They were extremely persuasive, and this could certainly bring changes in mankind's attitudes, resulting in an erroneous behavior analysis. The Doctor, however, knew that this initial touch was needed to let down the girl's guard, otherwise he would hardly be able to get close enough to her to keep at least a conversation.
At one point, their hands let off and the young woman smiled calmer, with a less tough stance and relaxed shoulders.
"Well, I'm Clarice Mills.", and sighed, in a laid-back way. "In fact, I wasn't at the mass today. Not that I have missed something worthwhile." She laughed and soon spliced a question. "You said you're a doctor, right? What a doctor like you do at this town? Here we have nothing but sad people."
It was a very beautiful name, Clarice, he thought. Shaking his head positively, Frank agreed about what she said about the inhabitants of Denton, mending at this statement the explanation of his appearance at the small town.
"My main goal here is precisely to conduct a research in order to try to change that. To bring, maybe, a little joy to the bitter people I saw coming out of the church."
"It is a great responsibility, Doctor. How do you intend to do it?" At this point, Clarice was already visibly more relaxed, bending to collect the gardening instruments she had left on the grass.
"I want to show them a completely new lifestyle. They must be taken out of the box locked in during their lives."
Clarice laughed, this time with ease, and shook her head negatively as if to rebuke the Doctor's idea.
"Well, good luck in this endeavor, then, because you'll need it. I say it from my own experience. I've tried to change some medieval thoughts that exist in this country and the result is what you see: a few days of forced labor in this town in the middle of nowhere to pay for my disobedience and rebellion." As she spoke, she got up and went toward a wooden box leaning against the walls of the church where the instruments were kept. Saying softly, then, almost as if murmuring more to herself than to the stranger, the girl finished the thought: "At least gardening is way more enjoyable than going to the mass, as it's not possible for the ground and the seeds to hate me."
"And why do they hate you?"
Clarice sighed and shrugged her shoulders, twisting her mouth as if she felt resigned with something:
"Because I'm different from these people, and unfortunately this difference is seen by many of them as dirty and wrong."
For a few seconds, once again the silence settled between both of them. Frank watched the girl while she gathered her belongings to leave, observing her movements, her face and her energy. The Doctor realized, in his brief study of Clarice, that she really wasn't like the others: even though she also looked sad, like the rest of the city, Frank couldn't see in her signs of denial about who she was; on the contrary, the signs of sadness that she showed came precisely from her acceptance of herself, because such acceptance made her to get away from all people she knew and loved in her life.
Clarice was already with her purse on her shoulder when she turned to Frank and shyly waved in a gesture that indicated she was saying goodbye. However, Frank didn't want this brief encounter to end so fast like this, and soon he acted, asking:
"May I know what makes you different from others in Denton?" And, realizing that maybe he was being too invasive, he added: "I'm asking because I'm also very different from everyone here and we may have more in common than we can imagine."
She smiled at him, stopping for a long minute; the outsider noticed that this minute was being used, this time, for him to be observed. The girl, however, sighed and said:
"Maybe another time." Then she took the first steps, moving away a few meters and heading toward the square. Along the way, though, she stopped to walk and turned back to Frank. "I have to fulfill this gardening work for a few more weeks." And then she smiled. "I'll be around here this same time next Saturday. Maybe we come across again."
So, Clarice went away once and for all, entered in an old car parked nearby and started to get more and more distant from the alien along the main street. Frank was left behind, but with a silly smile on his face and with his heart warm, without even understanding why. He didn't know yet, but the brief encounter would take hold his memory and his mind in an almost unbearably way, and Clarice's face would accompany him for the rest of his sleepless nights.
