Thanks for the kind reviews, guys. Really, they were touching ….so Christine finally decides to go bowling…she meets Erik now, YAY! And there isn't any mention of RAOUL here either, so yeah :D
Oh yeah, the activities of Erik and Christine are like simultaneous so they happen during the same day (obviously…)
I don't own any of the POTO references in this humble fanfic of mine
Oh and Gameworx is an actual bowling alley where I go to every week.
Pls read and review dear fanfickers…
"Hey, Destler! We got a ball stuck over on lane 13!" shouted the lane manager at a man far away on one of the benches near the locker rooms.
Reluctantly, Erik Destler marked the page of a music magazine that he was reading. He'd return to that page when he would get back from fixing the technical circumstance that outraged the bowling player on that lane.
He walked up to the customer and tried to ease her frustration using his unmistakable charisma.
"I'm sorry ma'am. Ball-stucks are normal on the bowling alley. I'll get right on to fix it and I hope you enjoy the rest of your game." He said with a smile, hoping that the red-haired, thirty-something woman wouldn't notice the mask that he wore on the right side of his face.
The woman gawked at him for a moment, but was taken aback at how polite and respectful the man was. She seemed to assume that the mask mirrored his assumed inward personality.
After another moment of awkwardness, Erik moved away from the lane and headed towards the end-wing of the wide bowling stadium where the door there would lead to the machines of each of the bowling alleys.
He disliked going there for the noise of the generators of each of the alley machines was enough to make an airplane sound like quiet gurgling.
He moved swiftly, looking for the backside of lane thirteen. After a long time of working at the bowling stadium, and hauling the stuck bowling balls out of the suction sockets, he learned to leap up onto the rafters with a light spring on his feet.
He reached down and nudged the ten-pound ball into the conveyor belt, being careful not to get his hands stuck on the turbine and risk the dirty oil messing up his slender fingers.
Once the ball moved along the belt, returning to its owner, he climbed down the rafters and headed back to his usual post near the locker rooms where he would read his music magazine in isolation.
"Christine? Honey, wake up. I've got breakfast ready for you. Your appointment is at ten-thirty remember?" whispered Meg, gently resurrecting Christine from her deep and somber sleep.
Christine droopily opened her eyes, one eyelid after the other, and muttered a few words, still embracing the throw pillow of the couch she was lying on and cuddling into the cotton blanket that wrapped around her.
"Whaa? What time is it?"
"Just after nine,"
With that, Christine jolted up from the couch and ran to the bathroom, shouting a thank you to Meg for waking her up. Meg heard her slam the bathroom door and smiled.
It was close to ten o'clock when Christine was fully prepared for the day—and for her doctor's appointment. It was mandatory for her that when she visited the doctor, she wasn't supposed to eat anything that would disrupt the beating of her heart, or give her light heart burn. She conformed to drinking just a glass of water to gulp down her icky pill.
It was a Saturday so the streets of Glendale were naturally packed with people needing to go some places. Meg, a skilled driver, easily avoided the morning rush by taking shortcuts and loops in abandoned streets. They reached Glendale Medical Hospital in less than twenty minutes.
Meg had plans that day, so she verified with Christine if she had a ride home after her appointment. With a nod from Christine, she watched Meg drive off of the loading dock at the mouth of the hospital and disappear around the curb.
Christine wasn't really an outgoing person, but she wasn't socially retarded either. She was just reserved and kept to herself most of the time unlike Meg who almost always spoke too much, agreeing to one thing she said and contradicting another.
Christine already knew where her doctor's room was: fifth floor, room 509, Dr. Andres. She used the elevator and when she got to the floor, she sat down on one of the waiting chairs that lined the white-tiled hallway. The strong fluorescent lights and the bright tiles made Christine's eyes burn.
She waited in the hallway for sometime before the secretary called her into the room. Christine sat at the patient's seat, just across from the doctor's table and desk. A medical bed with drawers along its sides was placed on the far right of the room. She waited some more for her doctor, which was already in the office, for she could hear low voices conversing.
"Ah, Miss Daae, glad you came in for a check-up," Dr. Andres said brightly as he walked into the room, with a clip board in hand.
He was well into his forties, with streaks of white mixed into his black hair. His age wasn't so noticeable because he rarely frowned, showing his white, angular teeth which Christine took to be veneers.
"Yeah, I haven't been feeling so good lately. The palpitations are getting more and more chronic," Christine said with honesty. She really wasn't feeling good, and she couldn't pinpoint the reason why. She was taking her medicine and eating as prescribed.
"Uh huh. How many times a day would you be experiencing these palpitations?" he asked, genuinely concerned, "would you life your blouse a little bit please?" he added, a stethoscope ready in his right hand.
Christine obliged, pulling her shirt up to her midriff and allowing his hand to move up to her chest so that he could hear her heartbeat. She cringed at the shocking coldness of the stethoscope and twitched slightly.
"Breathe in for me, please," Dr. Andres said quietly, already observing her heart beat by moving the receiver to different but precise parts on her chest.
He murmured some 'm hmms' before removing the receiver from Christine's chest and moving to his desk in front of Christine.
"Well, your heart does seem to be 'jumping' up a bit even though your activities are almost passive. With your rare condition, I will have to do some tests," he started, acting more professional than earlier.
"What sort of tests?" Christine inquired, imagining needles and cold steel beds. She blinked the image from her mind.
"Well, some MIRs, to see if you condition has anything to do with your brain activity as well, although this is just a precautionary standard. I hardly think that this is related to your cranium.
Some blood tests, of course, to make sure that your platelet, white, and red counts are in order. I'd just like to make sure that this condition isn't affected by blood, or else it would make my job a little bit harder," he said, chuckling at some points during his spiel, but sounding concerned throughout.
"Oh! And right now, we can start on an EKG sonogram to test your heartbeat."
They moved to the bed where he asked Christine to lie down. He strapped a Velcro wrap with some wires onto Christine's slender arm and began to stick some wires onto her chest and arms. He rolled a machine next to the bed and switched it on.
The test didn't last long, and soon Dr. Andres removed the wires from her body and asked her to sit down on the chair.
"Well, I won't have the full report of your test by today, but I will have them by next week. For now, I strongly recommend that you involve yourself in some well, leisure sports to begin with. We need to get your heartbeat back to normal, Miss Daae and a good sport will help you," Dr. Andres began his prescription.
"What sports do you suggest?" Christine asked.
"Well, definitely not chess," he laughed heartily at his own joke, " but there's light swimming, golf, or bowling. Take your pick."
Christine contemplated on her choices. Her skin rejected the sun, so swimming was out of the question. Golf was almost impossible because the nearest course was an hour away depending on traffic.
Bowling seemed like a good idea, she never played it before so it'd be a learning experience. Plus, the Gameworx bowling stadium was fifteen minutes from her condo. It would be fun, Christine thought.
"Well, I think bowling would be great for me, I've never played it before so it should be nice." Christine decided.
"Well, that's great then! I always enjoyed bowling myself. Are you doing anything this afternoon? Why not stop by the alleyways and get yourself fitted for shoes and a ball?" Dr. Andres suggested.
"I'll do that,"
They said their goodbyes, and Dr. Andres scheduled another appointment on Wednesday, same time.
Christine walked out of the hospital with an optimistic mindset. She was going to play bowling to get her heart back into shape. Little did she know that she would get more that she bargained for.
"Yeah, I know, it's weird. But I'm really doing it!" Christine spoke into the receiver of the public payphone. She was talking with Meg who was at a coffee shop, doing some homework.
"C, that's great news! I'm happy for you! I hope it works for you, you know?" she replied, the signal crackling in the phone.
"Hey Meg, I'm hangin' up now, you're breaking up. I'm going to visit the bowling place, now. See you back at the condo, okay?" Christine had to shout the last few things she said because the signal was getting really choppy.
She hung up the phone and heard the coin jingle deeper into the machine. She slipped out of the phone booth and headed for Earling St., where Gameworx was located at.
It was a very big building with a giant sign that read 'Gameworx' and a bowling pin tipping at the end of 'x'. She braced herself before entering through the swing doors.
As if stepping through a warp hole, she was swept by the energy that hung heavily in the air of the stadium. There were 36 lanes and all but one was occupied. Constant crashing of ball against pin rang out in the room and excited yells answered them.
'80s hip music was playing and the bass was thumping against Christine's chest. She quickly remembered her mission and moved to the customer service desk that was manned by a scrawny man with a thick beard.
"Can I help you, Miss?" he grunted, but it was his natural way of speaking.
"Uh, yeah, I'd like to enroll for some bowling lessons? You know, the works," she said trying to avoid the hideous pun that she just made.
"All right, sure. I'll get someone to teach you," he said, being more customer-friendly.
They talked more on billing arrangements and Christine never knew that there was more to bowling than ten pins. There were locker arrangements, wristers to be fitted into, shoes, finger tape, the bowling ball, and a lot more. The price for the package was reasonable and she found that she could pay for it and her monthly budget would be affected much.
He led her to the shop where all the bowling gear was and shouted for someone. She looked at all the shoes, the shirts, and finally gazed in awe at the bowling balls that we lined on the wall. She didn't even notice the door bell jingle and a man step inside.
"Excuse me, Miss? I was asked to assist you with your bowling gear and a few lessons." Said the man who wore a strange mask, but that wasn't what caught Christine's attention.
She felt her heart flutter and she was positive that it wasn't because of her condition.
"Hi," she breathed.
He smiled.
HA HA! i am terribly sorry, i just couldn't resist a good cliffie...but i did promise that they'd meet! and they did! i'm sorry again...haha