Nikki could not stop staring at the arms of the man at the gym. With each stroke on the rowing machine his muscles rippled and the look of determination on his face became more fierce, while her own legs seemed to lose the ability to ram another revolution out of the stationary bike's pedals.
It's not polite to stare,
she reminded herself and tried to regain her focus and concentrate on her own workout routine. But her eyes would not be so easily tamed and for the next ten minutes she continued to ogle the man before he rose and carefully sprayed down and toweled off the machine and disappeared into the locker room.
As he stepped into the steamy shower Adam massaged his aching biceps. No doubt about it, he had definitely over worked it today.
You know better than to push yourself so hard. And besides, she probably wasn't even looking at you.
Adam continued the debate he'd been having with himself about the cute brunette on the exercise bicycle as he lathered up. It wasn't likely he'd ever see her again since he wasn't a member and was just using a co-worker's guest pass.
He was grateful to be the only one in the shower as his lustful thoughts of the comely lady produced a predictable result. For a brief moment he entertained the idea of bringing himself to a climactic relief, but as always his manners got the better of him and would not even consider following through with it.
He quickly finished his shower and dressed before walking briskly up the street to the television studio where he worked.
Nikki finished her workout and made her way to her own office. The sign in front greeted her with her own name: Dr Nicole Stewart, OD. She had come to New York at her uncle's urging to study at the College of Optometry at SUNY, where he had himself earned his degree.
To her considerable surprise she found that she thrived in the city environment, which was quite a drastic change from where she had grown up in rural North Carolina.
By the time she graduated from school her uncle presented her an opportunity that she could not pass up. He was ready to retire his optometry practice on Manhattan's upper west side, and proposed that she take it over for him. Dr. Melwyn Stewart spent a year transitioning his practice into the very able hands of Dr. Nicole Stewart, and she would be forever grateful that he had shown her such an amazing kindness.
Nikki was now in her fifth year of practice, and business was great. She continued to serve her existing clientele, but also found that her reputation made it easy to find new patients as well.
One morning she was scanning the day's roster as was her custom. She always wanted to make note of new patients and referrals, and on this particular day she saw an unfamiliar name: Adam Parks. She glanced over his personal information, noting that his residential address was in Queens, a bit of distance from her office, but not entirely unusual. She also noted that under "occupation" it stated simply "independent contractor".
There was also an atypical request for a noon-time appointment. Ordinarily Nikki's office closed for the lunch hour, but for new patients she almost always made an initial exception.
When noon rolled around, Becky, Nikki's receptionist, grabbed her purse and headed out as was her daily habit. Nikki reminded her not to lock the door because a new patient was coming in.
"Oh, that's right. I'll take a short lunch today so I can get back and help with anything you might need."
"Thanks, Becky. I appreciate that. Especially if the new patient is a creeper."
They both shuddered and laughed at the memory of a select few patients who had proved to be just a bit on the creeper side.
Only about three minutes after Becky had left the door chime alerted NIkki to come from the back office to greet the new patient. When she saw him she stopped dead in her tracks, dumbstruck for words. It was the hunky guy she had ogled on the rowing machine a couple of weeks prior.
He was similarly stunned into silence as he recognized the bouncy brunette from the exercise bike.
Adam forced himself to speak, if only to break what was threatening to become an uncomfortable silence.
"Hi, I'm Adam Parks. Thanks so much for making a noon-hour appointment for me. I have a crazy-weird work schedule these days."
"No problem," Nikki said, summoning her professional doctor's voice. "We try to accommodate our patients whenever we're able to."
She quickly went into "business mode" and led Adam to the examination room and set about conducting her usual intake interview.
"So, what brings you in today?"
"Well. I've never worn glasses or anything before, but lately I notice that things aren't as clear to me as they ought to be."
"I see. Well, how did you first become aware of this?
"I think it was on the subway platform when I realized I couldn't read the signs as easily as I could when I was younger."
"That's actually quite common. Let's run some tests and see what we can find."
She began the usual preliminary examinations, glaucoma test, etc.
She situated him to look into the autorefractor and she switched it on. Suddenly all the lights in the room went out completely.
"Oh no!" cried Adam. "I've gone blind!"
Nikki laughed easily at the silly joke and excused herself to see if she could find out what had happened.
As she stepped into the reception area the door swung open and a man came bounding from the hallway into the room. His shirt bore a logo reading "Filmore Electric".
"Sorry, ma'am. My bonehead apprentice just sliced through something he wasn't supposed to. But luckily we know how to fix it. Shouldn't be in the dark for more than about ten minutes or so."
"Oh. OK. Thanks for letting me know," Nikki said with a sigh.
She made her way back to the exam room and peered inside. Adam was sitting in the dim room, his caramel-colored hair catching the little bit of light that leaked in through the heavily shaded window.
Well, at least he's definitely not a creeper!
she thought to herself as she re-entered the room. She explained what had happened and apologized for the delay.
"I hope he can fix it quickly, "Adam said. "I have a very strict schedule I have to keep at work."
"What exactly is it that you do, Mr. Parks?"
"Please. Call me Adam. I work for WCD television. We're shooting today, so there's a lot of people to coordinate."
Nikki was intrigued. She imagined that he was perhaps a carpenter or perhaps a lighting technician by the bulging biceps that peeked so tantalizingly from beneath his short sleeves. It was turning her on to imagine what sort of work would lead to such sexy arms.
"So, do you build sets, or do lighting or something?" she asked as innocently coquettishly as she could.
"No, I'm not one of those guys."
It was odd she though that he stopped there without volunteering what it was he did.
"Are you a sound man?"
"No ..." Adam shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"You mean ... you're an actor?"
"Kind of. I'm ... I ..."
"Oh, come on, Adam. It can't be anything to be ashamed of now, can it? Please tell me what you do."
Adam took a deep breath. It was not easy to explain to most people what he did.
"I'm a puppeteer."
He waited, watching Nikki's face to see what reaction this news would bring.
"You mean ... that's a real job? Waving stuffed animals around in the air?"
Adam looked at his watch.
"Look, I'm sorry. I have to get back to the studio. They're going to be starting soon and I have to be there otherwise the whole production is stuck at a standstill."
He scurried out of the office as quickly as he could without being rude.
Nikki was standing slack-jawed when Becky came into the room.
"Wow! she said. Was that hunk who just shot out of here your 12:00? Oh, I hope he wasn't a creeper. I got back as fast as I could."
"No, Beck, he wasn't a creeper. And I'm afraid I was rude to him. I didn't mean to be but now I think I'm going to have to do some damage control."
Adam strode briskly up the street toward the WCD studios, hands jammed into his pockets and head slung low.
Sometimes I just think I should quit, he thought. There's just no way to tell anyone, let alone a pretty woman that you play with puppets for a living. They just immediately assume that you're and idiot or you're immature and have some sort of a Peter Pan complex.
He made his way onto the set without speaking to anyone. Darla, the puppet wrangler, brought him the large lavender-furred puppet that millions of children knew as Chunky-Chuck. She could sense that something was awry.
"What's wrong, Adam? You don't seem too happy right now."
"Just questioning my career path right now, Dar. Seems pretty dumb sometimes, you know?"
Darla became very serious and stepped deliberately in front of him. She looked him squarely in the face as she slid the furry puppet onto his hands.
"Look, Adam. You know as well as I do that Chunky-Chuck is an incredibly important part of the lives of the kids who watch us. What was it you called him when we developed him in season one?"
Adam looked up for the first time. Darla's questioning eyes expected a specific answer.
"A friend to the fatherless," he half whispered.
"And don't you
ever
forget that, Mr. Parks".
The floor manager called for quiet as the bell rang twice calling for a rehearsal pass to begin.
Chunky-Chuck played his scene with Miss Dewlap as earnestly as he had ever played anything. The production staff who were all watching laughed heartily throughout the sketch, but when the moment of pathos arrived to bring the scene to a conclusion there was a silence that was quieter than quiet.
Sam, the show's director, called "Cut!" and a long single bell rang. He ran to where Adam was concealed behind a set piece for the scene.
"Geez, Adam! I wish I was rolling tape on that one! Please tell me you've got another one just like that inside you, 'cause that was
magic!"
Adam began to come back to the things that made his job significant. He knew that he could never just quit. But he did heave a sigh at the notion that he would never be able to explain it to people outside of the industry, especially beautiful optometrists.
Several days later Adam was in the break room between setups. He was looking over the script for the next scene when the floor manager's voice crackled through the intercom speaker.
