Yasmin McDonald

Keisha Morrison loved surfing the 'Net. Every opportunity she got, she'd be online, scanning the diverse news and information available there, or dropping in on the chat rooms to see what people there were saying to each other. She knew most of the conversations weren't serious, and that correspondents often embellished their physical and other attributes. But it gave her something to do in her spare time. Keisha had many 'Internet friends' whom she had never met, but who sent her funny and sometimes informative emails nonetheless. She especially enjoyed the jokes and the prayer pieces, and would pass them on herself. You never knew, Keisha told herself, when or how someone would benefit from one or other of them.

She met Gordon Fitzgerald on the 'Net. He had sent her a link and she'd responded. He was, he told her, tall, dark and handsome, and recently single, and fun to be with, besides. He worked with a security firm which, surprisingly, turned out to be located close to where Keisha worked. He also told her he worked out regularly at the gym, came from a large family, was the son of a minister of government, lived in St. Ann, but worked in Montego Bay, and rarely went home, often overnighting in MoBay at a house his family rented there. The house's full-time tenant was a good friend, and was often abroad.

Keisha found Gordon direct and easy going, with a sense of humour. Still, she hesitated to give him much information about herself. She had heard that the 'Net was often frequented by perverts looking to prey on the unsuspecting and the naive. She also knew that, being young and single herself, she could be vulnerable.

Her own appearance pleased her; she knew many men were attracted to her because of it. Of mixed heritage, Keisha wore her wavy, dark hair short - a style which drew attention to her face, with its full lips (modestly enhanced by a subtle shade of lip gloss). Otherwise, she wore no make-up. She didn't have to; her dark-complexioned skin was naturally smooth and cool. Nor was she averse to wearing clothes that showed off her shapeliness and fine long legs; and she knew the way she walked often turned eyes to follow her - women's eyes, sometimes, as well as men's. (In fact, at times she'd had to ward off the advances of the former, as well as the latter.)

In due course, Keisha's 'Net chats with Gordon graduated to phone calls; and one day she surprised herself by agreeing to meet him. Next moment, however, she felt as though she were taking a huge risk, and even after she tried to minimize it by stipulating they should meet at her workplace, she remained alarmed. Suppose Gordon was not who he'd said he was? Suppose he was ugly, or smelly, or even worse, a stalker, or a would-be rapist, or even some sort of psychopathic serial killer!

She didn't know how she'd react to being disappointed - it depended, she concluded, on just how disappointed she was. She was still very nervous, and she started when her office phone rang and the security guard at the gate told her she had a visitor, one Gordon Fitzgerald. That was so quick, she thought. Surely there had to be something wrong with any man who rushed like that to meet her?

But there seemed nothing wrong with Gordon when he walked into her office, saying 'hello' in that deep voice she'd grown used to on the phone, and a broad smile on his face. He had 'stolen away' from work, he told her, to 'finally match the face with the voice.

Keisha drank in the sight of him. He had a beautiful wide smile, with perfect teeth, and was as lean and muscular as his job suggested he would be, even while (with some difficulty) she held his gaze, Keisha was aware of the biceps bulging from the sleeves of his security guard's uniform. When he told her she'd understated her own beauty she had to stop herself from replying, 'So did you.'

They met that night at a restaurant in Sam Sharpe Square. Her heart fluttered when she got into her car to drive there, and again she wondered whether she was making a terrible mistake. She was strongly attracted to him, she knew. But she had been attracted to men in the past who had turned out not to be what they first seemed, men who had courted her only long enough to entice her into giving herself to them, all softened and warm and ready to love - after which, with dismaying speed, it seemed, they had lost interest in her.

But Gordon seemed different - mature, honest. Keisha told herself it was much too soon for her to trust him, and yet a small part of her clung to the hope that, even after 'that part', he might turn out to really love her.

She chose jeans and a casual, long-sleeved blouse for their first date. In the course of one of their phone calls she had confided to him that she had not been in a relationship for some time, that she was still hurting from the last, failed one. Gordon had asked - a bit worriedly, she was pleased to hear - whether she might yet try to get back with the guy (because, he said, he couldn't imagine any man resisting her if she let him know she was there for him) but Keisha told him there was no possibility of that, that the guy was now married and had a child. She told Gordon she was not looking for a lover, and had only gone on the website to meet people she could be friends with. Gordon's reply had been that he too was only looking for someone to hang with socially - though if things developed beyond friendship he wouldn't mind.

Now she tried to calm her nerves; she tried to find fault with him - so far as she knew him, through emails and phone calls and their one short meeting - as a way of keeping a level head during their date. And she chided herself for being 'giddy-headed' and reminded herself that, if there were one thing she should have learned from her past relationships, it was not to trust men too easily. When her cell-phone rang, jolting her out of her train of thought and back to reality, and it turned out to be Gordon, phoning to make sure she remembered their date. She told him something had come up and she wasn't sure she would be able to make it.

His obvious disappointment gave her a rush of confidence, that felt like happiness. She laughed and told him she was already on her way.

When she got to the restaurant he was already there. He looked up as she entered, and the expression on his face when he saw it was her flooded Keisha with something like gaiety. 'Score one for the homeboy,' she thought to herself when he rose on her approach and didn't sit until she did. She smiled a smile of frank and fond appreciation at him.

Gordon appeared nervous as they talked and ate. At times he seemed distracted, and to be looking beyond her, to where people entered and left the restaurant. When she asked him what he was looking at, he told her softly that the woman sitting behind her was 'giving him the eye' - something he found amusing, since he wasn't interested. Keisha turned and looked at the woman, and was not impressed by what she saw. 'If you'd like me to leave,' she told him wickedly, 'so you can give her your full attention, I will.'

Gordon took her hands in his and told her what she knew he'd have to say - that the woman 'didn't have a chance against her, Keisha. 'She's not even my type,' Gordon told her.

'Really? Well, if she's not your type, why do you keep looking at her and smiling?'

At this point the woman suddenly rose and came over and asked Gordon if she could borrow his cellphone. By way of reply, Gordon pointed her to the pay phone and the woman, embarrassed, taken aback, turned and walked stiffly away.

Perversely, Keisha got up. 'You know what?' She told Gordon. 'I think it's best that I leave. Maybe we'll talk another time.'

Gordon look startled and chagrined. He held on to her hand and begged her not to go. He apologised for his behaviour, and suggested she let him make up for it by taking her to Reich Falls, in Portland.

Keisha hesitated. Then she said she'd go - but only on condition they each take a friend along. Gordon reluctantly agreed. Finally Keisha gave him directions to her home, in Rose Hall, but all the time they talked she kept wondering whether his response to the woman had revealed the truth of his nature and whetherf she should take it as a warning and go no further.

She got home feeling a little apprehensive. She wondered whether she might have overreacted, but then answered herself, telling herself firmly that no man in her company should be allowed even to act as if he was interested in another woman. But then she wondered at her own reaction to the woman. The woman seemed a good bit older than Keisha, who was 25, was not very smartly dressed, and looked as if she had bleached her skin. Keisha wondered whether Gordon was attracted to women like that. In the end, she had decided to wait until their Saturday trip before deciding if she were still interested in Gordon.

When Saturday morning came, she dressed casually, in a closefitting, light blue floral blouse, denim shorts, and flipflops. She tied a blue scarf stylishly around her head and slung the bag contained swimsuit, towel and toiletries over her shoulder. Gordon arrived promptly at 9:00 with his friend, who seemed happy to meet her. The men were in T-shirts and walking shorts.

They left to pick up Keisha's friend Donna, who lived in Ironshore. Gordon allowed his buddy, Carl, to drive while he and Keisha sat in the back talking. She told him she'd nearly not come out with him after the way he'd behaved in the restaurant, and Gordon told her he was relieved she had, as he'd felt really bad and was glad for the chance to show her he wasn't that type of person.

Continues next week