He stopped his rushing and looked me in the eyes, realizing I wasn’t going to just follow him in his crazed state for no reason.
“I know more than your name, and I’ll tell you everything, but you have to come with me, all right?”
The way he looked at me before was more than just an accidental glimpse in my direction. There was obviously more going on here, and what was it about him? Being so close had me surprisingly on edge. He glanced at the swinging door and back at me.
“Elyse, we need to go. You have to trust me okay?”
“Okay,” I agreed, heart pounding.
The next thing I knew, he was dragging me along behind him, rushing me through alleys and across busy streets. I didn’t know who we were running from, but I forced my muscles to push on. Heat pulsed beneath my clothes, and I breathed heavily as we dodged cars and cabs halted in the morning traffic. Horns blared and people shouted, but William ignored them all. He was busy searching, looking in all directions with quick eyes like we were being hunted.
“Where are we going?” I asked out of breath as we slowed for a passing car.
“I’ll explain later, just come on.” With another tug, he led me into a MUNI station, pulling me by the warm grip he had on my hand. Just as a train was leaving, we slid through the closing doors, and William watched out the window, smiling at something, or maybe someone in the distance.
I didn’t know why I followed him. It could have been my attraction to him or the excitement I felt when our eyes connected, but something drew me to him, in a very dangerous way. As I sat in one of the gray plastic seats, I tapped my feet against the floor anxiously. What was I doing? This wasn’t smart. He turned to look at me. We smiled slightly at each other, but his focus quickly turned to the people around us.
Something had compelled me to believe him, but when we squealed to a stop at one of the next stations, I hesitated. What was I doing trusting some stranger who was leading me who knows where? I waited for everyone to come in or out, hoping he wouldn’t suspect my next move. Just as the doors began to close, I jumped onto the platform, leaving him pressed against the glass as the train rolled away.
I stood alone in the station wondering if I had been smart or made a mistake, but as I hiked back up the steep cement stairs, I came to the conclusion that people in this city were crazy. There was no telling what might have happened. Besides, I would have noticed if I was being followed, wouldn’t I? Suddenly aware, my eyes scanned the streets, looking for a clue, a mysterious or recognizable face, but there was nothing. I was paranoid.
As I climbed the rolling paved hills heading home, the close proximity of things made me a little claustrophobic. I tried to forget about what had just happened, but I couldn’t help feeling on edge. The whole morning was so bizarre, and now I was drenched in coffee and needed to go all the way back home to change. My stomach rumbled, and I realized, on top of everything, I never actually got to eat my blueberry muffin. This wasn’t my day.
“Hi,” a voice came from behind.
I noticed the girl right away. She was quite beautiful, even in her army boots. She didn’t look threatening, but after William’s warning, I quickened my pace.
“Wait up,” she called.
Did she know me? I couldn’t remember ever meeting her before. A glint of a smile dashed across her face as I glanced back and saw that she had already caught up.
“We haven’t met,” she said, answering my unspoken question. “I’m Kara.”
I looked her in the eyes for the first time, almost suspicious of her greeting.
“Hi,” I returned. It was best to keep it short and sweet with people. Less complicated.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” Her question was abruptly too personal.
“What?” I shot out, unable to contain my immediate reaction. I didn’t even know this girl. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
She laughed. “I know.”
“Are you following me?” I asked bluntly.
“Yes.”
I wasn’t expecting her to be so honest, but it prompted me to be just as forward. I felt my eyebrows sink low into a scowl. “Why?”
“You really don’t know anything do you?”
Her knowing smirk made me nervous. Maybe I had made a mistake.
“About what?”
“Come on. I know you’re hungry. Let’s get something to eat.”
I had no idea what kind of a person she was. Sure, she looked harmless. A woman in her mid-twenties with a stern but pretty face wasn’t exactly what I’d expect in a stalker, but she did admit to following me. I didn’t like how things were playing out.
“I think I’m just going to go,” I answered.
“Elyse.” Like William, she knew my name without me telling her. “Relax, nothing is going to happen. God, you’re high strung.”
“You don’t even know me,” I retaliated.
She rolled her eyes. “I know a lot more than you think.”
“Like what?” I asked, calling her bluff in the middle of the street.
“You’re lonely. You like writing poetry. You eat microwave dinners for most meals. Most importantly, you know nothing about yourself.”
She did know a lot about me, more than I was comfortable with. It made me wonder how closely she’d been watching, how long she’d been following me. I had to know why. Maybe this would be my second bad decision of the day, maybe not.
“Are you coming or what?” she asked.
Okay, so I was hungry, really hungry, and I used that as an excuse to follow her into the diner around the corner.
The eatery was fairly large and crowded. People spilled out onto a patio with umbrellas and talked loudly as they ate. The floor was black and white tile, like a chessboard, and there was a single counter that had trays at the beginning and a register at the end.
“They have breakfast burritos. I know you like those.”
“Why did you say it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you know I like it.”
“I do.”
I sighed. “Whatever.”
Kara chose the far back corner table. I waited until we were seated to interrogate her.
“So are you going to tell me what it is you claim I don’t know about myself?”
She thought about it before she answered. “No.”
What the hell was this girl getting at? I couldn’t figure her out.
“Why not?” I asked.
“The less you know about yourself, the easier my job will be.”
My eyes narrowed. “Your job?”
“Yeah,” she answered a bit uncomfortable. “Look, the only reason I wanted to talk to you was so I could give you my spiel. Before you figure out who I am, who you are. Maybe you’ll be able to see things from my perspective one day down the road, and not hate me.”
I had no clue what she was talking about, and I didn’t like the sound of it, but I needed to know.
“Let’s hear it.”
“I guess the best way is to give an analogy. For example, you eat meat.” The statement was slightly accusatory.
“Yeah,” I answered, waiting for there to be more.
“Do you believe in murdering animals?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just a question. I mean do you?”
I stared at the sausage spilling out of my burrito. “Well, I . . . just because . . .” The whole question had me stuttering with frustration.
“That’s my point. It doesn’t make sense. Part of you speaks morally and logically, understanding that killing is wrong. Something in you is disgusted by the thought. The herding of chickens and cows in tiny, cramped quarters, living a predetermined, torturous life, it’s wrong. You know that. Yet on a day like today, you find yourself standing in line, craving that breakfast burrito with spicy sausage, and you can’t resist. It’s in you—the instinct to survive. Your body tells you it needs meat, food, sausage, and so you eat it. You could choose the egg and
cheese, but you’d think of it as a sacrifice.”
The blunt confrontation with my choice had me tense and defensive. It wasn’t any of her business what I ate, but somehow I’d still lost most of my appetite.
“Okay so you caught me. Are you going to turn me in for moral hypocrisy?”
She laughed subtly, but answered with undeniable sincerity. “Look, don’t feel bad. I ordered the same thing you did. I only wanted to make a point in my defense. People criticize. It’s in their nature. They’ll pass judgment on almost anything that involves them. Citizens blame the government for their own shortcomings while they rely on the fruits of its existence. They damn the use of oil and its effect on the environment but they drive their cars to work and heat their homes. Do they have a choice? Could they survive without it?”
“So what is your point?” I asked with slight hostility.
“I’m sure you’ll understand it soon enough.” Her voice was almost too cheerful, which made it even more antagonizing.
“So that’s it?”
“That’s it.” After she took the last bite of her burrito, she stood to clear her tray. “See you around, Elyse,” she said. Without another word, she turned and walked out of sight, leaving me completely unsatisfied.
I thought about going home, but after such a strange morning, I just felt like getting lost in the city. I caught a bus and let it take me downtown. Since moving here, I’d quickly grown to love the eclectic feel and buzzing streets. I appreciated the fact that I could walk around in my coffee-stained clothes and nobody would care. People were free here, and could be, look, act, or live any way they pleased. It reminded me of the circus, accepting of outcasts and those who were different, including me. San Francisco was where I belonged, and it was the perfect place to be alone, but not by myself.
Today the sun shone brightly through the strong-willed trees that grew up through the concrete, casting shadowy patches on the sidewalk. I was grateful that nature refused to surrender here. Even amidst the man-made machine, it persevered.
I stayed out until dark, trying to figure out the strange girl who claimed to know me better than I knew myself, but I couldn’t understand her. Then there was William, who had been right all along. If I wanted answers, I knew he would have them. Or at least I hoped he would.
2.
WHEN I GOT HOME, I remembered what William had said about Cearno’s after 5:00 and hoped he would still be there. Before I even had a chance to get to the café door, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into the shadowed alleyway between my building and another.
“It’s me,” he said, taking my hand. I could feel the warmth beginning to build beneath our palms.
I sighed. “Jeez. You scared me.”
“Good. Now we’re even.”
His looks were distracting, his eyes a dusty green and mouth seductive by nature. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and laughed with relief. “Well, as long as you’re sorry, and not dead.”
“Dead? Look we need to talk, this is . . .”
“We should go somewhere else. I don’t know if it’s safe here.”
“Okay,” I answered, but he seemed hesitant, remembering my last attempt at ditching him. “I believe you.”
He nodded. “My car is around the corner.”
He drove a silvery blue Honda Civic, and once we were inside, he relaxed.
“I’m sorry we’re meeting like this.” He laughed to himself. “Things haven’t gone exactly as planned, but I think the night can still be salvaged.” He looked at me, gauging my reaction. “You probably think I’m crazy.”
“A little,” I admitted with a smile. I wasn’t supposed to be encouraging this sort of thing, but I couldn’t help myself. “How did you plan it?”
My question seemed to perk him up. “Oh, you know, kick up the charm, dinner, flowers, a movie. The way normal people do it.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into or what was going on, but for some reason I trusted him. It was a nice thought to imagine myself on a date. I’d never been on one.
We ended up at a small public library. As we walked toward the white granite building, he reached out for my hand again, and I instinctively pulled it away before he had a chance to weave his fingers through mine. It was a quick defensive movement, almost as if I was afraid of his touch, and maybe I was. I was afraid that it might mean something it couldn’t, that I might like it.
“It’s not what you think,” he said.
“It’s nothing, I just . . .”
“Just don’t want me to hold your hand,” he finished for me. “I get it.” We continued walking in silence, but his eyes were looking for something, or someone. “You know if we were on a date, you’d expect me to hold your hand.”
“Only this isn’t a date,” I answered.
He stopped, trying to think of how to explain. “If we’re touching, it protects us.”
I was starting to get irritated. “From who?” I asked, but he ignored my question.
“Can you feel it?” He lifted my limp fingers and pressed his palm to mine. The warmth was subtle at first, but emanated the longer we held them together.
“What is it?” I asked.
He took a deep breath with new hope in his eyes, as he slowly and cautiously folded his fingers into the grooves of my knuckles. “Friends can hold hands, right?”
“No,” I said with a modest smile, but I didn’t pull away. “I don’t even know you.”
“You will.”
I was right. His touch was dangerous—I liked it too much.
When we reached the basement level of the library, he set me free, dragging his loose fingers across the rows of books. The place was silent and smelled like old paper, but in a good way. If there was anyone else on this level, they’d kept hidden and quiet.
“I love it down here,” he whispered. “There’s so much knowledge in this little room.”
I’d never thought of it that way, but he was right. There must have been thousands of books filling row upon row of the freestanding shelves. Truth, science, love, art, a seemingly endless collection of knowledge free for the taking.
“And still, there’s nobody here,” I observed. It seemed strange that so much knowledge could be so easily disregarded.
“There never is,” he said, making himself comfortable on the floor of one of the aisles. “I come here a lot.”
I sat down beside him as he began picking through the books, pulling out interesting titles.
“So what is this about? Do you know who’s following me?”
“Yes,” he answered simply, tilting his head as he scanned the book spines, looking for a specific title.
“Well?”
“After what happened on the train, I thought about it, and I decided to keep it a secret a while longer.”
“Why?”
“You won’t believe me, and I don’t want you to run off again like I’m some crazy person.”
“I do believe you. On my way home, Kara found me. I talked to her, and she admitted it. You were right. She was following me.”
He froze and looked at me with alarm. “You talked to her?”
“Yeah. She wouldn’t tell me anything though. That’s why I need you to tell me,” I urged.
“I can’t believe you talked to her. She’s dangerous, Elyse.”
“She seemed pretty normal to me.”
“She’s not.”
As much as I was enjoying cozying up to William in the cramped and narrow hallway of books, I had a reason for being here.
“Look, do you know anything or are you just trying to seduce me in the abandoned aisles of the library basement?”
He laughed. “I’m not trying to seduce you, not unless you want me to,” he said with a look that was far too honest.
The thought reminded me that it was just the two of us down here, alone together. All I’d have to do was say ‘yes, I want you to,’ and maybe he’d kiss me right here, on top of all these boo
ks.
“I’ve never been seduced. I’ve never even been kissed,” I admitted. “I’m not sure it would work.” What was it about this guy? I was saying things I knew I shouldn’t. Friends, I told myself in an effort to shut out the fantasy I had let run wild in my head. The most we could ever be was friends.
“Oh, trust me,” he promised through a confident grin. “It would work.”
“You’re probably right.” What was I doing? Talking to him was like playing with fire, and it had me testing my limits. “Better not then.”
I pretended to change my focus, and started looking through books as if I was actually reading parts of them. I wasn’t.
“I find it hard to believe that you’ve never been kissed.”
I blushed. “Believe it.”
“It’s sort of adorable.”
“That’s not exactly what I was going for. I mean, I try to make a point to divert any attention from myself.”
“I don’t think it’s working.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I put out the vibe.”
“What vibe?”
“The ‘not interested so leave me alone’ vibe.”
He merely lifted an eyebrow to this apparently crazy suggestion.
“So you’re not going to tell me who’s following me?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Here,” he said pulling an ancient copy of Homeric Hymns from the bottom shelf. It was dark red with gold print and looked like it had been read from cover to cover more times than it could handle. He slid across the cheap industrial carpet toward me. We were sitting so close we were touching. “I wanted to show you this.”
“Okay,” I said, not seeing the connection.
He looked at me, suddenly so much more serious than he had been. “There are so many books here. It’s like you could find the answer to any question if you just looked hard enough, you know?”
“Yeah,” I answered skeptically, trying to read the insinuation in his words.
“Can I read you some of this? I’m hoping it will help you.”
I was completely lost. “Help me what?”
“Not all of it is true of course. Only pieces. They got so much of it wrong.”
Oppression Page 2