Jules and June

Jules worked out daily and was proud of it. So proud, that he wore tank top even when the weather was cold. Very cold. Like this very morning.

Down the crowded boulevard he trod on his way to work. Any normal human being would have turned right at the intersection and headed along Bowing Avenue, saving ten minutes. In the cold. But not Jules.

Suddenly, he heard a cry. “Help, help, I can’t move.” Jules saw the figure of a woman who had fallen to the sidewalk. “I’m unable to get up,” she said. “I must have sprained my ankle.” It was obvious that she was in pain. She exposed her ankle, which, though not swollen, was colored a bright red.

“No problem,” said Jules, and picked the women up so that she could stand (albeit on one leg). “There is a clinic a few blocks from here,” she told him. “I wonder whether you might be strong enough to carry me over there for help. I’m sure they will be able to bandage me up in no time. “

Jules picked her up and proceeded to carry her down the sidewalk. She felt as light as a dove in his giant arms. Her perfume reminded him of his grandmother’s rosebushes. Her hand was around his strong body. She looked straight into his face, with eyes the color and shape of the beautiful doe he had seen in the movies.  He did not mind that she was taking him in the opposite direction to that which he had been heading. He did not mind that the weather was turning colder and that her weight was finally beginning to gnaw at his biceps. Jules never wanted to reach the clinic.

But reach the clinic they did. “Thank you so much for saving me,” she said. “There are few men so kind as to help someone on a morning like this. My name is June and here is my number. I would be happy to buy you coffee sometime and get to know you better. ”

Jules soared out of the clinic and floated his way towards work. He grinned as he stopped to buy his morning coffee. When he reached inside his pocket, his wallet had disappeared. He ran back, retracing his steps all the way to clinic. The wallet was nowhere on the ground. Perhaps June could help, but she was not at the clinic when he got there. He tried to call. The phone number she had given him had been discontinued. Finally he understood.

The trip to the office was long and icy. Jules turned right onto Bowing Avenue. He had lost June. His money. And a large slice of his pride.