by L M Terry
“I come same time. What wrong? Bus run you over,” she sets the bags down and stares at me with her hands on her hips. Her tiny five-foot frame assesses me. “Why you look bad?”
“Wow, thanks for the compliment, Mrs. Chan. I went out last night, it’s nothing.” I wave her off.
“I hate to see other guy,” she snorts. She looks around my room. “You don’t go to bar. What happened?”
“Really, I did. I’m fine too much to drink that is all.”
She stares into my eyes for a long minute as I avoid hers, focusing on the grey smattering in her straight black hair.
“Hmm, come to salon I fix nails.” She grabs my hand looking at the black polish I have all but chewed off. “They terrible.”
“Okay, thanks for the groceries and the compliments this morning, Mrs. Chan.”
“You know I tease.”
“I know, I don’t know what I would do without you.” I give her a hug and then she turns to leave. It’s like this each week. She brings my groceries, lectures me about something or another, tells me to go to the salon which I never do and then she leaves. I love Mrs. Chan. She is sweet even though she acts grumpy most of the time.
I grab my clothes to shower and when I catch my reflection in the mirror I groan. Oh, my god, no. My face is covered in streaks of black. James must think I’m a freak. Christ. Fate rewards me with another chance meeting and once again it is fucked-up. No wonder Mrs. Chan gave me a hard time. Oh well, story of my life.
I perch on the toilet seat and grab the nail polish remover swiping a cotton ball over each nail. Then I move on to the tattoos and after that I remove the fake piercings. Slowly, I eliminate all of my body armor. After all that I head to the shower and wash away the temporary black hair dye from my hair. When I emerge from the shower, my skin is pink from all of the scrubbing. It is a lot of work but necessary. It keeps people away or at the very least makes them think I am tougher than I am.
Today, I’m going to the nursing home so, I have to go without my armor. I went once with it on and found that the residents weren’t very fond of the look. Understandably so, the purpose is to turn people away. I guess it worked too well with them. So, now I don my “normal” clothes and rush as quickly as I can to the home, hoping that I go unnoticed by the rest of the world.
I go there once a week but sometimes I don’t make it. I never know until my hand hits the door who will win, my fear or my love for the residents. I pull the white and yellow flowered sundress on and brush my long honey colored hair. Maybe if I would have looked like this last night James would have recognized me. I need to stop thinking about him. He is gone.
I grab my purse and sit down on the couch with my phone staring at the clock, I need to leave by two so that gives me thirty minutes to pep talk myself into walking out the door. I open my contacts and scroll through the extremely short list in silent hope that I will find James’s number there. No James but there is a new number. Luis Sharp. The psychiatrist he told me to call today. Nope. Not happening.
I wait until two minutes before two, grab my art case from under the bed and then stand in front of my door. Open the door, walk out, down the sidewalk. Five blocks. Five blocks. Five blocks. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.
Today is a good day. I open the door and quickly make it down the street to the nursing home. Once inside I lean against the wall catching my breath. You did it! See, maybe you don’t need someone to force you. Today is a good day. I continue down the hall to the activity room to find Dorothy waiting for me. She smiles and claps. “You made it, dear.”
“I did. What does your memory have in store for us today?” I ask as I pull the easel from the corner of the room and begin to set out my supplies.
“I was thinking about this spot in the Sierra Mountains that my husband and I used to camp at. Oh, how I would love to see it one more time.”
“Okay, let’s have a go at it. Sounds lovely.”
I close my eyes as Dorothy describes the scene. I love painting and drawing for her. She is quick witted and has retained every ounce of her memory. She describes everything in so much detail I can almost smell the mountain air and hear the little waterfall she is describing. After a few minutes of listening I open my eyes and drag my brush through the paint on my palette.
The world she is remembering leaves Dorothy’s lips, drifts across the empty space, glides through my fingers and lands on the canvas. Only her sweet voice and the whoosh of my brush break the silence in the room. It is peaceful here, the best part of my week. It’s not only Dorothy who I paint for, there are several residents that like to meet with me. They take turns on a rotating schedule. Knowing that they wait for me each week helps get me out the door. I hate the days when I disappoint them and cancel. It doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. On those days’ death whispers to me, calls me to the other side but I never answer, I’m too frightened too.
When I’m finished I turn the painting for her to see. This is the part I love most. Tears gather in the corners of her eyes. “Dani, it is perfect. Oh, honey.” Her gaze settles over the painting. “I miss my Frank so much, thank you for this. You are priceless girl.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Dorothy. Through you I get to see so many beautiful things.” I smile at her as I clean up. “Once, it dries I’ll tell the staff to bring it to your room.” She nods and wheels her chair out as I set to the task of washing out my brushes. When I’m finished I sit down in front of the painting and snap a photo of it on my phone. My window to the world is through the eyes of the elderly. The greatest generation and wow have they lived.
Fear starts to creep back into my bones as I come down from the high I get from creating art. I need to get home before paralysis sets in. I take one last look at the painting then stop at the desk quick to ask the receptionist to take the painting down to Dorothy once it’s dry.
When the warm salty air wraps around me I take off running. I run all the way back to my apartment hyperventilating as I fall in the door. I crawl to the couch and put my head between my legs. Breathe, Dani, breathe. Dammit, it was almost a good day…almost.
After hours of trying to pull my shit together, the sun starts to set. I get up and turn every light on in my apartment. The night is the worst for me. I hate it. As I’m making myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich my phone beeps. I stare at it for a long-terrified moment. No one messages me. No. One. Not even Lizzie. I call her on the first day of each month, always on the first, always at five pm. It must be a wrong number. I’ve had that happen before.
I take a bite of my sandwich, grab a glass of milk and plop down on the couch. My phone beeps again. I freeze with the sandwich paused midair. I lean over and look down at it perched on the coffee table.
J: Why didn’t you call Luis?
J: Hello?
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! It’s James. Why is he texting me? This doesn’t work for me. Everything needs to be planned so I know what to expect and when to expect it. No, I can’t do this. I need to accept my life as is. It’s fine. I have Mrs. Chan, the Sunnybrook residents and Lizzie. I’m fine. I don’t need more. Last night was stupid.
J: Danielle, if you don’t answer me I will be knocking on your door in thirty minutes.
No. Oh my god. Will he really show up here? He might, he asked if I was suicidal last night. If I don’t answer he might think I’m dead. He might send the police again. Shit! I have to answer him. I grab the phone, quickly type and hit send.
D: Sorry, I don’t think he will be able to help me. But thank you.
Before I can even set the phone down James replies.
J: Thinking and knowing are two different things. Call him. Now.
My lower stomach clenches as I read his words. Umm, oh god. I set the sandwich down, what should I do? I can’t call this Luis guy. No way. James doesn’t seem like he is going to take no, for an answer but, I can’t do it.
D: I’m sorry but I can’t. I’ll be fine. Thanks again for
your concern. There perfect, politely turning him down. Finished. He will move on.
J: Danielle, I’m giving you one more chance. If you don’t call him within the next fifteen minutes I will have to take matters into my own hands. The safe choice would be for you to call Luis and see if he can help. But, if you don’t want the benign option I guess we will go with the one you tried to put into play last night.
I read the text over and over again. My heart skips and trips over itself a hundred times as I watch the clock on my phone. Fifteen minutes to decide. I’m not sure what that last little part exactly means. I told him that I was looking for someone to force me to do something. And, I was in a fucking sex club. Shit, no, James is a nice man. He saves people. No way would he force me to do anything. But, his text seems pretty demanding. My stomach clenches again. Three minutes left. I quickly flip to my contacts and bring up this Luis guys phone number. I click on it but hang up before it even rings. I’m between a rock and a hard spot. Somehow I know that this moment, these last few seconds will change my entire life. Either choice will alter the course I’m currently on. What have I done? I click the number again, but fear wins out and instead I power down the phone, run to my bed and hide under the covers.
Chapter Four
Danielle
◆◆◆
Two weeks go by and no sign of James. I think I dodged a bullet. One with silver-grey eyes. He did come the day after texting me, but I didn’t answer the door and I’m a big chicken so yeah, I haven’t turned my phone back on either. But other than that, he seems to have vanished. Good. I don’t need that kind of chaos in my life. Things need to be the same, each week the very same. Yes.
I peek out the window as Mrs. Chan trudges up the stairs with my groceries. Perfect, on time as usual. I swing the door open for her. She bustles in and sets the bags on the table. “Thanks, Mrs. Chan,” I say as I begin putting things away. I feel her eyes on me, heavy like, poking at me. I stop and turn to face her. She smiles like she has a secret.
“Tall man come to salon ask about Danielle.”
I gasp and drop the can of corn in my hand. It lands with a thud.
“He say you no answer door.” She tips her head, face expressionless.
“I don’t want to see anyone, Mrs. Chan. You are the only person I let in.”
“That because I bring groceries and own fucking place. I tell him try harder.”
“You didn’t.”
“I did. He nice man. You need nice man. Open door next time he knock.”
“No, no, I’m not opening the door for him or anyone else.”
She laughs and grabs my hand. “Nails terrible. Come to salon I fix.” Then she turns to walk out leaving me with my mouth hanging wide open.
He talked to Mrs. Chan about me. What in the hell? I pull the curtain back just a smidge as I reach over and lock the door. Is he watching me? Crap, I’ll just have to be more careful and stay inside. But, today is the day I go to Sunnybrook and paint for the residents. I’ll just have to cancel. I reach for my phone and…then…remember it is off. Ughh, if I turn it on I’ll have to see his messages.
Well, this is a lose, lose situation right here. I can’t go outside. He might be waiting for me. Power on the damn phone and cancel at Sunnybrook. But, I hate disappointing the residents. I’m just being paranoid. No way is James watching me. I’m sure he visited with Mrs. Chan the day he knocked, and she explained I’m a crazy hermit. He was satisfied and went on about his business. I’m sure he has many important things on his plate, and I am not one of them. Besides, that was two weeks ago, and he hasn’t been here since.
Okay, I’ll go. It’s only five blocks.
When I get to the nursing home Dorothy is waiting for me in the activities room. “Dorothy, what a pleasant surprise. I thought it was Mr. Anderson’s week.”
“It was but I traded with him. I want you to sketch someone for me today.”
“Okay, I say shoving the easel back in the corner.” Giving her a confused smile. I grab my charcoal pencils and my sketch book out of the case. I love all mediums of art…except sculpting. I don’t do that. My mother was a sculptor.
“Ready dear?” she asks.
“Yep, let’s give it a go,” I say waiting for her to fill my brain with details.
I listen intently to her as my pencil scrapes across the paper, a smudge here, some shading there. But, as the image unfolds in my mind and on the paper I stop abruptly. My eyes dart to Dorothy’s. She smiles, a twinkle appearing in her eye. I drop my pencil.
“He was here wasn’t he?”
“Oh, such a nice man. You need a nice man, Dani.”
“Hmm, so I’ve been told. Twice today actually.” I stare at the drawing on my lap. “When was he here?”
“A few days ago.”
I close my eyes. He hasn’t given up. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. But, now I have to make the walk home. “I’m sorry you wasted a session with me to draw someone that you don’t know,” I say dryly. I shouldn’t be rude, I’m never rude but, Mrs. Chan and now Dorothy both have succumbed to his charms. For some reason it rubs me the wrong way.
“Oh, I didn’t waste anything honey. He is a sexy man. I’m hanging this with the rest of the art you have made for me.” She giggles like a schoolgirl and my heart can’t help but love her for it.
So, I giggle too. “Dorothy,” I scold. “He is a nice-looking man. He just isn’t for me.” I finish shading the sketch as she watches. She doesn’t have to give me any more description. I have James imbedded in my memory. I hand it to her and watch as she runs her finger over it lightly.
“Dani, I’m a ninety-eight-year-old woman. One of the things I have prided myself with over the years is my extremely good judgement of character. This man is nice, and I believe he is honorable. He wants to help you. You come here each week living your life through the memories of others. If there is a chance that he can help you start making some of your own, I think that you should take it.”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“I’ve never pried into your life, Dani, but, I can see plain as day that you are hurting. You have to let someone help you. Don’t worry we will be fine without you here at Sunnybrook as long as you promise to visit us once in a while.”
I sigh loudly. “Don’t worry, Dorothy. I’m not going anywhere. There isn’t any help for me. Not even James Bond can help me.”
She laughs and leans over running a knuckle down the bridge of my nose before wheeling herself out.
I tap my toe on the ground frozen in my seat. He is going to be waiting for me I have a feeling. Shit. I’m just going to have to take an alternate path home. Out the back, over a few blocks and he will never be the wiser. He can sit outside this place all day for all I care.
The unfamiliar path has me all but hyperventilating by the time I get back. But, I made it with no sign of my new stalker. Fuck, I have a stalker. What the hell. But, I can’t help but smile. I would love nothing more than for James to be my prince charming. For that one kiss that might wake me up from my slumber. But, again…him vs. me? Not likely. He is just one of those guys that likes to help people, he wants to fix me. He doesn’t want me. No.
I make my peanut butter and jelly, plop down on the couch and wait. Waiting for what I don’t know. After several hours of waiting I decide to power on my phone. Curiosity killed the cat, yeah I know. As it powers on I get up and turn all the lights on as my evening routine demands. As I’m walking around my phone goes off like a heart rate monitor in a hospital. Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep…and on and on it goes. I wait for the beeps to stop like waiting for someone to flat-line.
My hand trembles as I sit down and reach for it.
J: I guess you have made your decision. Luis informed me you did not call.
J: Hello?
J: I see you have shut the phone off. Either that or you are simply leaving me unread. That is okay. It changes nothing. I’m still here, just like your fear.
Ouch.
J: Are you so afraid of me you can’t open the door? I did save your life, so there is that you know.
J: Mrs. Chan is a very nice but intimidating woman. You are lucky to have someone like her. Plus, she gives a great mani/pedi.
I snort at this one.
J: Hmm. I really didn’t think black was your color. I like the real you better.
J: Talented and beautiful, wow. It’s a shame you spend all of your time hiding.
What? Talented?
J: I’ve been thinking about what I’m going to have you paint for me once you’re with me. I think I’ve come up with something.
Umm, not happening. Not painting for him and what the hell does he mean once you’re with me. A chill runs up my spine.
J: Okay, so you outsmarted me on this one. I’ll give you that. It won’t happen again.
I laugh out loud. I wonder how long he waited for me to leave Sunnybrook. Ha. Serves him right.
J: But, it did make you take an alternate route…so did you win or did I?
J: P.S. I see that you are finally reading my messages, I win again. No? Yes?
My heart is beating so fast I can hear it drum in my ears. He is waiting for a response. Fuck. What is this dude’s gig?
D: Why are you stalking me?
J: Win again!
Fuck!
J: Why do you leave your lights on all night?
My stomach does a somersault. He is outside.
D: Because I can.
J: Hmm, I know you are much younger than me but, wow that really sounded like a childish answer.
I roll my eyes.
D: Well it was a dumb question, so it deserved a childish answer.
J: Annnnnd, another childish response.
D: I told you I was afraid of everything. Don’t you think the dark would be one of those things?
J: I can make you love the dark.
The world stops. My heart stops. Everything stops. Well, not everything….the burn between my legs, the tightness in my lower stomach…those things don’t stop.