Love Theme from "The Incredible Hulk" (Recommended Listen) - https/watch?v=ump6yvbsVDw From Bruce, To Laura (1970 - 1 year before their marriage) [Written on a scrap of paper and handed to her in the middle of book club their Senior year of college]
Beside Me
I strolled along
The quiet sea
And let the waves
Walk my side
But they grabbed
At my feet
And soon became a fetter
I sat beside
The full-leaf trees
And let them lounge
There nearby
But they lost
All their shade
And leaves like auburn feathers
I laid against
The shifting reeds
And let them sway
Out of sight
But they bent
Far away
Like others, then I met her
You stood in front
Of solely me
And let me know
All was right
And I knew
It was truth
And now I'm all the better
Chapter 1 - To Picnic (1976)
Where was the sun when you needed it?
Dr. David Bruce Banner tapped his pointer fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of his Toyota Celica watching rain start to drizzle down the windshield like tears.
He was driving home from work. It had been a difficult day in the lab to say the least.
For the past couple days the equipment at Ohio's Data and Science Base where he worked had been getting tweaked and updated.
The maintenance was nothing to be concerned about. That is, until a couple monitors started to malfunction in the middle of an experiment. A couple lights blinked, odd beeping noises sounded, and then it was fine. If anything, it was just weird. It had thrown off David's mojo… nothing to be overly concerned about. David took a look at the machine and carried on, taking notes with his ceaselessly ink-stained hands.
However, within an hour the same malfunction happened three more times; each occurrence furthering Banner's frustration. At the third malfunction, the machine whirred, and something inside had clearly burnt up for there was an electric, smokey smell emanating from it.
David had taken the clipboard he had been writing on and used it to whack the side of the machine calling it a "fucking hunk of metal" under his breath before calming down.
Not something he was very proud of.
What followed soon after were a series of safety protocols.
The building had gone on lockdown and everyone present had to go through a medical exam to see if the machine had released any harmful chemicals to their systems. It was a gamma ray projector, afterall.
A team in hazmat suits sprayed down the machine and scanned the lab as David stood in the exam room, mortified. If the electric fire had gotten into the mechanics, there was no telling how much gamma was seeping into the lab that very moment.
David stood still in a corner and folded his hands. His eyes stung from beads of sweat that trickled down his temple.
To his relief, It turned out that the fire was only in the computer interface. It was nothing. No one was hurt.
But they could have been.
As soon as he could figure out where he was, David went straight to the lab-updates manager, Orion. Orion oversaw the recent machine adjustments, including the machine that had just malfunctioned.
David tried to breath, to calm down and speak softly, but what came out was a firm, panicked, and clearly aggravated couple of sentences "Someone might have been killed." he had said, "and it would have not just been on your hands, but my hands too."
Orion responded simply with, "but no one died," and then turned away saying, "You're so high-strung, Banner. It'll be alright. Have a nice day." and walked towards the exit.
The sheer apathy alone was enough to send David off. "Goddammit, Orion! Don't you get it? Don't you understand the mutagenic implications of gamma?"
Orion stopped and pivoted, "I do. I'll fix it. But nothing happened, so go home. There's nothing to be angry-"
"-Angry?!" David caught himself and lowered his voice, "of course I'm angry, aren't you concerned for the mortality of humans? Of being responsible for their deaths?"
Orion started to walk away once more, "of course, Dr. Banner. But any harm done would have all been on your hands," he yawned, "afterall, you should have stopped using the machine the first time it acted up."
He was right, David would have been responsible. He stood, head down, petrified.
Orion continued, "Next time something malfunctions, come to me before trying to use it again. Go home, David. Get some fucking shuteye." and with that Orion opened the door and left.
David was immediately sobered and left work early along with everyone else.
They were all commanded to keep quiet by the government officials incharge of the base. They couldn't risk bad publicity. After all, nobody had gotten hurt.
David blinked a couple times, trying to get it out of his head.
I'll just offer to help fix the machines. Then the loud construction noises, the malfunctions, the near-death-experiences… they will all be gone.
Stopping at a red light, he took a deep breath and glanced at the back of his car. He had a large quilt and a fresh bottle of champagne ready for the picnic he had promised to Laura, his wife.
Their 5 year anniversary was next Saturday and he intended to surprise her during their outing with a trip to California. A pink envelope with the plane and hotel tickets slid back and forth on the passenger's seat with every turn he took.
California, she had said, twirling his dark brown hair with her fingers, was perfect during the Spring; not too hot, not too cold, and plenty of places to hike and picnic.
She always twirled his hair when she was hinting at something, and David had gotten the hint.
Thunder cracked in the distance and the drizzle turned into a downpour.
He grimaced up at the dark clouds, Looks like the only picnicking we'll be doing is in California.
He turned the curb into his neighborhood, picking up the envelope and stuffing it into his plum-colored jacket.
Knowing Laura, she wouldn't care if they cancelled plans. But what she would mind was that he had to be in the Lab for the next week working overtime to compensate for the vacation. Working for the government on classified projects meant his downtime was minimal.
He didn't like the idea of leaving her alone for so long over the next week. Strong-willed as she was, he doubted he could be the same way. Science was a huge part of his life, he loved it, but he loved Laura more. After all, he could only stand the starched white lab coats and smell of sterilized metal for so long before needing her beside him.
David pulled into the garage to avoid getting wet. He looked at his hands, holding the steering wheel. He was grasping it so hard that his knuckles were white.
It wasn't worth it to David to bring home a bad mood. Laura didn't deserve any bullshit from him.
So, slowly, he peeled his fingers off the wheel and placed them in his lap.
So the plans for the picnic are ruined, big deal. I have two tickets to California and I have Laura opening the door to greet me. What more could I ask for?
She came into the dark garage dressed for the picnic date in sleek beige slacks and floral button-up. She was gorgeous in David's eyes. But what he liked the most was the intelligence in her voice; the kind, practical, forgiving brain of hers.
She understood his work and could follow the science behind it, even when he would go on for hours deep into the night, restless with an unsolved formula. She would listen, follow, and help.
On the flipside, he strove to understand her emotional intelligence, the way she was so good with people and made them smile. Before meeting her, his social skills were buried under college studies, lab coats, and unprocessed trauma. But she dug them out, helped them grow.
How she found the patience for him, he didn't know, but appreciated her all the more for it.
From still inside the car, David glanced up at the pitter-pattering roof and then back at her with an exaggerated frown in efforts to make her smile. She frowned back in jest and laughed while he grabbed the champagne and opened the car door.
He walked up to her and gave her a light kiss on the lips.
'A kiss before conversation', she always told him, 'that way every conversation starts on a good note'.
"Hi Lauri," he kissed her again on the forehead, "I turned on the radio on my way here. It, uh, says it's gonna rain all evening." He scratched his head, disappointed.
She shrugged, "We'll have it another day, then, Davey, dont worry about it."
He held up the champagne "so what are we going to do with this?"
"You got champagne for the picnic?" she asked in disbelief, glancing down at his hand, "the expensive kind?!"
It wasn't like him to splurge. For most of his life, the concept of splurging hadn't existed. He was simply never spoiled or doted upon.
"Eh, why not," he smiled and shrugged, "we deserve it."
"We really spoil ourselves don't we" she cupped his face in her hand, "how much did it cost?"
David pretended to zip his lips together, "guess you'll never know," he said smugly, "nevermind the price, I thought it would be romantic for our little outing today," he blushed, "but it looks like the weather is not quite on our side" and let out a sigh before leading her into the house, closing the garage door behind them.
She in turn led him to the sage couch and sat down next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, "No, the weather really isn't on our side. But you know me Davey, I honestly don't mind. Anyways, we don't need a picnic to have champagne do we?" her soft hair smelled fresh and comforting. For David, it was the smell of home.
He was home, he was comfortable, he was loved.
The sensation often felt totally foreign to him whose childhood wreaked with abuse and oozed with trauma. It was a sensation he wasn't entirely sure he deserved.
"No, we don't need a picnic for champagne," He set the bottle down on the coffee table and shifted to gaze at her, "and we don't need champagne to be romantic, right?"
She slid the bottle even further away from them to the edge of the coffee table, "Never, David," she leaned in and kissed him, feeling his thin, tired arms wrap around her.
He slipped his loafers off with his feet and she softly leaned him back to lie down. He nuzzled his head into her shoulder and she held him tighter.
"Someone's tired. Long day at work?" she asked.
"No…" he didn't want to lie, "yes," he buried his head deeper into her shoulder, "It was just a long day I wish I could have spent with you." he then looked up at her messy curls and ran his hand through them, "what say you to a picnic under our own roof since the clouds aren't favoring us?" He grabbed her waist and sat her up with him, "I can grab the blanket and we can have it in the sunroom," he shrugged, hoping she would enjoy his idea.
"I already packed the picnic basket full of food so I don't see why not," she shrugged with him.
David cocked an eyebrow, "...are you sure, cause I can always cook us something nice on the stove," he pointed to the kitchen on their right and glanced at the oven.
She rested a hand on his face, bringing his gaze back to her, "And waste my time spent on sandwich making? I don't think so, Mister."
"Note taken."
"I don't want to have a picnic under the clouds or the stars, but somewhere better." she stood up, emerald eyes sparkling in the lamplight.
"And that is?"
"Like you said, under our own roof," she put her hands on David's shoulders, "go get the blanket from the car, I'll set everything else up. From the look of you," she pointed from his head to his toes, "I think we needed an evening inside anyways."
David got up, saluted goofily and made his way to the garage before turning around and saying, "ah, you speak to my introverted side. I can't refuse a night at home."
Within a few minutes they were munching on egg-salad sandwiches and assorted finger foods. Not to mention slowly sharing an expensive bottle of champagne.
Most of the meal passed in silence. The kind of silence that settles like fresh dew on one's brain, refreshing the senses, watering the soul.
In the quiet he gingerly grabbed her hand, "You're right, we needed this," David said with his mouth full, "and uh," He swallowed, "I think we need more picnics. This was nice."
The rain still plinked and plunked on the sun-room's tin roof.
Laura laid back on the blanket, hands behind her head, "we really do," she sighed, "This was perfect. It was cozy… The way you're cozy." she scooted herself over to put her head in his lap.
David blushed, "well" and reached into his jacket pocket slowly, "This is a bit premature, but seeing as our anniversary is in a week, I thought we might need a place to have those picnics." He brought out the pink envelope and handed it to her.
"Davey…" she whispered, cheeks turning a soft pink, "is it?" she looked up at him and he only pointed at the envelope. "No-" She carefully tore open to peek inside, "Oh, David! California?" she held the tickets up to her heart, "It will be perfect in the spring-"
"-not too hot, not too cold?" he said with a sly grin, taking off his jacket.
"Even if it is!" She tackled him with a hug, "even if it is we'll be there! Oh, there's so much to plan, to see!"
The ambience of rain complimented the shower of laughter they shared, and following laughter, an elated discussion of ideas for the trip, and after the discussion, quiet. A sacred quiet. A savored quiet in the eyes of God.
They both fell asleep there in the sunroom by a dim camping lantern Laura had brought for David. He hated sleeping in the complete darkness, and because of that, so did Laura. They were two sides of one entity intermingled in a sunroom.
David knew he wasn't perfect, nor his wife. He knew their marriage wasn't perfect, neither was anyone else's. But that night, that night was perfect.