A Woman Like Her

by Levy, Marc

“You what?”

  “I turned on the computer and searched for information on you. For someone who claims to be in the tech world, if you don’t know how to do a Google, you aren’t very well informed!”

  “It’s called ‘Googling.’”

  “That’s what I said. Since you want to connect people, here’s your chance to really get to know them. Go and see Deepak. You have a few days for him to train you. As soon as we have your training permit, everything will be in order, and you can start work.”

  “What training permit?” Sanji asked.

  Lali gave him a kiss on the forehead and left, clutching her purse to her side.

  The Day I Came Home

  When I got off the train at Penn Station, I gave up any thought of taking the subway. The New York subway I fell in love with when I first moved from Connecticut now scared me to death. The platforms were always so packed, I was afraid of having trouble breathing.

  I had to learn to exist at a different altitude. My line of sight was now fixed on the torsos of the people moving around me. How could I be mad if they bumped into me? Ironically, the ones staring at their cell phones were the least dangerous: they walked with their heads down, and so I appeared in their field of vision.

  Deepak was waiting for me on the sidewalk. True to form, he opened the door of the taxi. Even his “Hello, Miss Chloe” sounded the same as always. Dad handed me my board and went to get the wheelchair from the trunk. After unfolding it, he brought it as close to me as he could. I slid onto it, with Deepak watching, unfazed, acting like everything was normal.

  “They’re happy you’re back home,” Deepak murmured. I didn’t understand at first, but when he looked toward the building, I followed his gaze. All my neighbors were at their windows, the Williamses, the Clercs, the Zeldoffs, Mr. Groomlat, and even Mr. Morrison.

  Mrs. Collins was waiting for me in the lobby, as cheerful as ever. She hugged me and gave me a kiss. Dad wanted to turn the lights on in the apartment before I got there. Deepak took him upstairs, and Mrs. Collins stayed downstairs with me. She was quiet, but as we heard the elevator come back down again, she whispered in my ear that I was damn beautiful, as if it were a secret just between the two of us, and she said it so sincerely that I believed her.

  Deepak grabbed the handles of my wheelchair, and I realized I had to get used to this idea that I didn’t have feet anymore, I had handles. It was a significant realization, and it was Deepak who helped me understand what that really meant. We dropped Mrs. Collins off at the sixth floor. At the seventh, I saw Deepak crying. I took his hand, something I used to do as a little girl that just came back to me naturally. Maybe the height difference between us in the elevator had something to do with it. I told him there had already been enough tears that day. He wiped his eyes and swore he wouldn’t do it again. And when we got to the landing, he didn’t push my wheelchair. He stood by the elevator handle and said: “Back in the lobby, that was also the last time I’ll do that. You don’t need me or anyone else. Now get moving. I have things to do.”

  I exited the elevator. Deepak waved to me, and the dignity of his gaze made me understand that I was my own woman. No one would touch my handles again. Before 2:50, I wouldn’t let just anyone take me by the hand—only Julius and my dad.

  10

  Deepak took everyone back home after the meeting in Groomlat’s office. He had learned a long time ago how to decipher their facial expressions. The Clercs’ sympathetic gazes, Mrs. Zeldoff’s contrite manner, and Mr. Morrison’s silence were as easy to read as the professor’s crestfallen expression.

  The main doorbell rang. Deepak said goodbye to Mr. Bronstein and went back down to the lobby.

  Chloe was waiting for her father in the living room.

  “Morrison was the tiebreaker. Ever the diplomat, Mrs. Zeldoff managed to convince him that he would know how to press a button, even when dead drunk.”

  “It passed because of that Bible-thumper?”

  “The Clercs were also on her side. If the kit hadn’t already been purchased, I could have prevailed, but they wanted their freedom back.”

  “Their freedom?” Chloe cried. “They have some nerve!”

  “They say climbing the stairs is bad for their dog’s joints.”

  “And no one was mad at Groomlat?”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I got close to a year’s salary for Deepak and Mr. Rivera. Our pocketbook’s going to take a hit. Groomlat demanded that everyone pay additional charges to cover these new expenses. I don’t know where I’ll get the money. And don’t even think about asking your mother.”

  “So, basically, our accountant hasn’t only ruined Deepak’s and Mr. Rivera’s lives but ours, too—that’s terrific!”

  “I did my best. I’ll have to go back on the lecture circuit. I’m not happy about leaving you alone, but I have no choice.”

  Chloe asked her father how much time they had before their building would change.

  “It might not be that different,” the professor said with a sad smile.

  “But it won’t be the same. We’ll know it every time we get on the elevator.”

  “Yes, probably,” Mr. Bronstein agreed. “But we still have Deepak for a few more days.”

  The light had faded in the living room, and the sky had grown dark. The sound of the wind rustling in the leaves floated through the open window.

  “Great, I have to go back to campus, and I’ll probably get soaked,” Mr. Bronstein groaned.

  Chloe closed the window. Big raindrops were splashing on the sidewalk. A delivery boy from Citarella darted behind a cart full of grocery bags, a man in a dark suit disappeared under his umbrella, a doorman in uniform hid under the awning of his building, and a nanny frantically pushed an expensive stroller down the sidewalk. Gusts of wind shook the branches of the sycamore trees, whirling the leaves this way and that, blowing away a newspaper that a woman had been clutching over her head. The window was blurry with raindrops, making 5th Avenue look like a turbulent Turner seascape.

  “I’m afraid your old raincoat won’t stand up to this storm. Your students are going to have a good laugh.”

  “My students always make fun of how I look,” the professor retorted as he grabbed his keys from the bowl in the entrance hall.

  Chloe barely noticed that he’d left. She hated the idea of her father running around the country in the sweltering summer heat, exhausting himself while Groomlat lounged in his air-conditioned office. She hurried over to her computer—she had an idea, and she needed to do some research.

  Sanji waited behind the wrought-iron door, soaked from head to foot.

  “You’re in a fine state.” His uncle sighed as he let him in. “You can camp out in the lobby, but please drip-dry on the doormat first.”

  “I didn’t come here just to get out of the rain. Didn’t Lali tell you?”

  “Yes, but . . . I didn’t think you would agree to it.”

  “You’re welcome, by the way,” grumbled Sanji.

  “Well, she didn’t leave you any choice, did she? Anyway, follow me.”

  Deepak led his nephew to the storeroom and opened up Mr. Rivera’s locker. Only his street clothes were there.

  “Of course! I will get you another one.”

  “Another what?”

  Deepak handed Sanji a towel.

  “Dry yourself off and let’s get started.”

  “I have to dress the way you do?”

  “Didn’t you wear a uniform at school?”

  “Yes, but I’m grown-up now.”

  “You’ll look better than you do now. As you can see, the cleaning products are kept in this storeroom. If it rains, like today, you can find what you need here to clean the marble in the lobby.”

  “It just gets better and better!”

  “Did you say something?”

  “No, nothing, please go on.”

  In the lobby, Deepak explained that he could sit behind the desk only when the lobby was empty—not in the presence of a
visitor and certainly never in the presence of a resident. The front door had to be bolted before leaving the lobby.

  “Way back when, there was a doorman, but it was too expensive, so they got rid of him. Soon, you’ll get used to the different bells—the doorbell and the elevator bell.”

  “What if I’m in the elevator when the doorbell rings?”

  “That’s why you can’t dillydally—you have to go up and come back down again right away. At night, it’s unusual for two residents to need our services at the same time, and except for food deliveries, it’s pretty quiet. Of course, it’s more complicated when the Williamses entertain. The Clercs hardly ever go out, and the Zeldoffs never invite anyone over. Mr. Morrison always comes home around midnight—you have to look out for him; he usually can’t put his key into the lock. Above all, don’t start a conversation with him or you’ll get lumbago.”

  “I don’t get it, what’s the connection?”

  “If you don’t move fast, he’ll doze off in the elevator and you’ll have to carry him all the way to his bed. And believe me, he’s quite a load.”

  Deepak stopped in front of the elevator to explain the three golden rules of his profession to Sanji: be courteous; be invisible if no one addresses you; and if someone does speak, listen to the questions you’re asked but never answer them. Then he slid open the gate and invited him to step in.

  “This handle is the control switch. Push it right to go up, left to go down. There’s no sensor when you reach the landing. It’s up to you to gently stop the elevator at exactly the right level. So, when you’re about three feet from the landing, you have to bring the handle back to the middle, then push it just a tiny bit to the right, and at the last moment, put it back in the middle again for touchdown.”

  “Touchdown?”

  “For a smooth landing!”

  “It’s a little more complicated than I thought.”

  Deepak grinned.

  “It’s much more complicated. Let’s see what you can do.”

  Sanji put his hand on the handle, but Deepak stopped him.

  “It’s better to close the gate first,” he said with a sigh.

  “Of course,” Sanji answered.

  “So do it.”

  Although Sanji pulled with all his strength, he couldn’t budge it.

  “You have to lift the latch and gently guide it so it slides along the track. If you force it, it goes out of whack.”

  “I thought this was the twenty-first century!” Sanji grumbled.

  “A century of hopeless fools that can’t do anything except type on a screen!”

  They glared at each other. Sanji managed to close the gate and then took hold of the handle again.

  “Don’t forget to put on your white gloves so you don’t have to wipe off your fingerprints every trip you take—the copper smudges easily. Okay, take me to the ninth floor.”

  The elevator lurched and took off at top speed. Sanji was terrified.

  “It’s not a rocket ship! Turn it two notches to the left, right now!” Deepak ordered.

  The effect was immediate, and they climbed at normal speed. Halfway to the landing, Sanji positioned the handle in the middle, and the elevator suddenly stopped. Then he turned the handle slightly to the left, and the elevator went down about four inches. Then he adjusted the handle to the right, and the elevator went up about four inches. Then he put the handle back in the middle.

  “Eighteen feet below the landing, not bad.”

  “You’re exaggerating, it’s barely four inches.”

  “Okay, seventeen feet, eight inches. We’re at the eighth floor and not the ninth as I had asked. See if you can bring us up just one floor.”

  “I’d rather you show me how first.”

  Deepak gave him a satisfied grin and executed the maneuver perfectly.

  “Fine,” Sanji admitted. “It’s complex, but I’m here to help you, so spare me your smug looks or I’m out of here.”

  For an hour, the elevator traveled up and down, first guided by the master, then by the pupil. Sanji finally got used to the sensitivity of the mechanism. His landings were far from perfect, but they improved after twenty round trips. He managed to stop one inch from the seventh floor and brought the elevator back down almost gently to the lobby.

  “That’s enough for today,” suggested Deepak. “You should probably get going, the residents will be coming home soon. Come back tomorrow at the same time, and we’ll continue your training.”

  Deepak led Sanji to the door. The rain had stopped. From under the awning, he watched him leave in the twilight.

  “Don’t bother to thank me,” he grumbled.

  He took his notebook out of his pocket and carefully recorded the 850 meters he had just traveled with his nephew.

  Chloe had decided. Her father’s fate, along with Deepak’s and Mr. Rivera’s, depended on a stupid device that would be installed in the coming days. What had formerly been just a simple musing now became a plan of attack. However, she needed someone to carry it out for her. Her father would never agree, and it was too risky to ask Deepak. He would be the first one suspected and would need a foolproof alibi. She couldn’t call on Lali for the same reason. While weighing her choice of accomplice, she planned to go the next day and buy the supplies she needed for what—according to what she had read on the Internet—could very well be the perfect crime.

  At noon, Chloe left Blaustein Paint and Hardware and went down Greenwich Avenue. The hardware store on 3rd Street was closer to her house, but it was the one her father went to when he needed to fix the toaster or a leaky faucet, and she didn’t want to take any chances.

  In a half hour, Julius would be having lunch in the university cafeteria. It wouldn’t take her long to get there.

  He was surprised to see her sitting at his favorite table, especially since he was with a young woman whom Chloe didn’t know.

  After Schopenhauer introduced Alicia, a teaching assistant he was working with, she went on her way, leaving them alone.

  “Charming.”

  “Who?”

  “The lady who serves the Jell-O—who do you think?”

  “You don’t believe that Alicia and I . . .”

  “I wouldn’t have assumed anything if you hadn’t asked, ‘Who?’”

  “For your information, I’m quite annoyed that I have to give her extra tutoring when I have piles of other work to do.”

  “It must be terrible, I’m sure. But I’m not here to fight with you, I have a favor to ask.”

  Chloe explained what she wanted him to do. It was no big deal, she said. He just had to show up outside her building around midnight. He wouldn’t have to come up, she’d toss the keys to the front door down to him from the window, and ten minutes later, after a quick trip to the basement, he could head home and no one would be the wiser.

  “You’re not serious?”

  When Chloe remained silent, he pushed back his plate and took her hands in his.

  “Ever since the elevator operator’s accident, we haven’t been able to spend a single evening together. Now you can finally have your freedom back, and you want to spoil everything? How long do you want to be imprisoned in your ivory tower, unless this is just an excuse not to see me?”

  “My tower is on the ninth floor, not at the top of a medieval castle. No one’s going to pour boiling oil on you. You only have to climb the stairs to see me.”

  “I’ve wanted to every night, but midterms are coming.”

  “Then what I’m asking you to do shouldn’t be a problem; you’ll have more nights to work. You shouldn’t let an opportunity like this slip through your fingers.”

  “No!” Julius exclaimed. “Breaking the law goes against all my principles.”

  “Sometimes there’s a higher law.”

  “Oh, please, don’t use such a freshman trope. If you really want to play philosopher, allow me to quote Montesquieu: ‘We do nothing better than what we do freely.’ Therefore, I’m the wrong pe
rson to carry out your plan.”

  “I would flunk your class, and I’m glad,” said Chloe, backing away from the table.

  She left the cafeteria. Julius followed her into the hallway.

  “It won’t work—they’ll know it’s sabotage.”

  “They’ll have no idea. I’ve thought of everything.”

  “They’ll blame your elevator operator.”

  “He’ll have an alibi because he’ll be innocent.”

  “At best, you’ll only gain a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks of peace and quiet for you, so what are you complaining about?” she replied, moving faster along the corridor.

  “Would you stop it? It feels like you’re always accusing me of something! I’m up for tenure at the end of the summer, and my whole future is at stake right now, so, yes, I’m working like a madman. When you were filming that mindless TV show, did I complain when you were away? Did I count the weeks you spent on the West Coast? No, I respected your work, and put up with being alone.”

  She stopped suddenly and spun around.

  “My mindless TV show had millions of viewers. How many students take your brilliant classes? When our life together changed, you stuck around. But I can’t be eternally grateful to you or feel guilty about it.”

  Julius stroked her cheek. “‘We do nothing better than what we do freely,’ and I feel free being with you.”

  “Save the philosophizing for your teaching assistants, and forget what I asked you. I wouldn’t want you to betray your principles.”

  “You should forget this half-baked plan. Look on the bright side: when the elevator is renovated, we’ll finally be able to go out at night whenever we want.”

  “That’s very reasonable of you,” she said calmly.

  “Reasoning is my job,” Julius replied, pleased.

  He promised to call her that night, and suggested they have dinner together via Skype. Students were circulating the hallways, so he kissed her discreetly and then went off to class.

  Chloe went along West 4th Street to Washington Square Park. She was disappointed, but, despite what she had led Julius to believe, she had no intention of giving up her plan.