Raven's View

One Choice

Things had gone well at first. Pat had been nervous about a blind date, but Ray had been a real charmer. He'd opened the restaurant door for her, held her chair, complimented her on her new dress - bought just for this evening. He seemed confident, an in-control kind of person. She liked that. Even the table choice he'd insisted on was just right, catching the last rays of the sun as they shared a dessert. He’d done everything right – even picking a wine they both liked. He was attentive too, smiling and nodding as she talked. When she got carried away with some joke she was telling, and almost knocked over her wine glass, he’d caught it just in time. He'd said he was a golf pro, but with those reflexes she would have guessed something like ping-pong.

 Ray had decided to try dating one more time. His relationships usually ended badly, but maybe this one would be different. If not - he'd just focus on his career as a golf pro. An easy career, for a psychic. Ray could somehow see the possibilities in his life, leading from the here and now to some there and then, threads of events like a sequence of frozen images, stretching forward for seconds, minutes, days, sometimes months. They were not all equal choices though, as the more certain the outcome, the stronger the path looked. In a crowd, it could get complicated, with his possible lives a tangle of threads, but the right choice, the best way, eventually showed itself. If he was on his own, such as on a golf course, the choices were simple. It was a magical feeling, as he set up for his next shot, knowing the one right club to pick, seeing exactly where to stand. Unfortunately he was a bad golfer, so while the planning of each swing was perfect, his execution usually let him down. He'd never make any of the national tours. Hopefully he'd be able to manage this relationship better than the others, as long as Patsy kept going along with his choices. While he always chose the path that was best for him, it was the best for the relationship too, so was really good for her also. He'd convince her of that.

Patsy had discovered that for Ray, assertive and in-control was a short step away from bullying and manipulative. They always had to do things his way. Never with any discussion either, he'd just pause, stare off into space for a second, and then make his decree. She'd decided she needed a break from him for a bit, just to catch a breath and find herself again. She’d brought it up as they were walking along Yonge Street, ice cream cones in hand - from his favourite place of course. Ray’s reaction had been to just step away from her, make that little annoying pause of his, then throw his cone into the gutter. Right in front of a bike courier. The biker swore, and swerved, then there was a blast of a horn as a city bus swung around him. Into the path of an oncoming car, that braked, and slid - right toward Ray and Patsy. She had watched - frozen - as the car skidded right at her - then gasped as Ray pulled her to the side.

"You don't want to leave me," he’d said. "You need me to keep you safe."

 After that he'd become even more demanding, more controlling. This morning she'd tried to convince him to change coffee brands and he'd slapped her. Hard. Several times. Then he'd smiled and insisted they go out shopping, so that he could get her a nice dress he'd seen, that he knew was just right for her. 

And here they were now, standing on the crowded platform, waiting for the subway to take them downtown. Dark glasses and makeup had covered the physical marks, but she still felt the blows inside. Ray seemed preoccupied with the crowd, staring off into space at times, then muttering to himself. The train was late - again - and from his complaints he seemed to be taking it as a personal affront. Just for a moment he let go of her arm and leaned over, peering up the tunnel at the approaching train. 

All it took was a quick nudge with her hip and he fell to the tracks, looking back at her with such an astonished expression she almost had to laugh.