by Linda Ungar
“You may now kiss the bride.”
Nigel and Bess kissed.
After the kiss, Nigel surprised Bess with a small gift. It was a beautiful diamond star pendant. His hands lightly encircled her throat as he fastened the star around her neck.
Smiling triumphantly, they entered the dining room to the sound of applause. Some passengers stood and cheered the newlyweds. During their first dance as a married couple, Bess reached up on tiptoes and whispered into Nigel’s ear, “I’m so glad we waited to make love until after we were married. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to later.”
He hugged her in response.
Some of the passengers talked among themselves about this seemingly mismatched pair.
“They aren’t a typical couple. You’d never think a man like that would go for her, but they both look so happy. I can’t imagine what he saw in her. She must be quite something to have landed him.”
Bess insisted on dancing as long as the band was playing. This was her party, and she wanted to enjoy every moment. The bride could not stop smiling.
“I want to remember this night for the rest of my life,” she told Nigel, who was beginning to tire.
“So do I.”
“Oh you will. I can promise that.” She spun him around the dance floor, taking the lead.
Only after the band had packed up and gone, and everyone else had deserted the dining room for the comfort of their beds, would Bess consider leaving. Nigel was exhausted and longed for sleep.
“You’ll have that soon. Just indulge me a bit longer. I want to go out on deck and give you a surprise. Really, you deserve this.”
No light penetrated the dense fog that shrouded the moon and stars. She took his hand, leading him through the darkness to their destination.
“Where are we? I don’t know this part of the ship. How did you ever find this?”
“I explored the whole ship before we landed last week. When I was trying to come up with the perfect spot for your surprise I remembered this. I don’t want us to be disturbed. We are newlyweds after all.”
She produced two flasks. “One for you and one for me. It’s my little joke, a reminder of our first conversation, or should I say my conversation. You never said a word.”
“I don’t need any reminder. I remember every word you said.” Bess handed him his flask, touched hers to his, “To the future.” They both drank. “I’m sure you do remember every word I said. So do I.”
He took another drink. He was beginning to feel odd. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had anything to drink when he was so tired.
“What’s the surprise? You said you had one for me.”
“Actually, it’s a message for you.” His legs were starting to feel numb.
“What kind of surprise is a message?” He was feeling confused.
“Karen Miller says hello.”
“‘What?”
Was he hallucinating? Did she really say what he thought he’d heard?
“You heard me. You think you’re so smart. Smart enough to get away with murder. But you got caught in your own web.”
Nigel grew pale. His terrified eyes tried to focus on Bess.
Nigel’s screams were drowned out by the roar of the powerful engines that moved the ship through the night. Bess never heard the splash as his body plunged into the icy black water.
The widow could not stop smiling. She was glad to have spent all the money she had on a cruise instead of a flat. She had invested well.
CHANGE OF HEART
Jill saw the caller ID on her ringing phone. “Hello Eddie, how much do you want this time?”
“Jill, I haven’t even told you why I’m calling.”
“Let me take a wild guess, you want money.”
“Yeah, but I only need enough to see me through a rough patch. Give your only brother a break.”
“Thank God you’re my only brother. What happened to all the other ‘breaks’ I gave you? The only time I ever hear from you is when you want money, which you never pay back.”
“You know I’m not well,” he whined, “I can’t help having a bad heart. How do you expect me to work? I could get lucky and find a heart donor soon. Then I’d get a job and pay you back. I promise.”
“Other people on that list who have the device you have manage to lead a pretty normal life while waiting for a transplant.”
“Yeah, but if it should malfunction, I’m dead.”
“And if I get hit by a truck while crossing the street, I’m dead. That doesn’t keep me from doing what I need to do.”
“Jill, honey, my luck is going to change. I just know it.”
“If good luck was handed to you on a silver platter you’d find a way to screw it up.”
“Remember your promise.” Desperation was creeping into his voice. “After Mom died you said you’d take care of me.”
“Of course I did. What kind of big sister would I be if I didn’t say that to a ten-year-old child? And I did exactly that until you joined the Navy at eighteen. That promise wasn’t a lifetime guarantee. Whenever I’ve relented and started feeling sorry for you, it’s been a disaster. You’ve caused Mike and me so many arguments. I defended you and said it wasn’t your fault that you had constant hard luck. You had me believing for years that nothing was ever your fault. Mike finally convinced me to take my blinders off, and when I did it wasn’t a pretty sight. He saw through you. Mike said you were nothing but a parasite, and he was right.”
“How can you say that? Besides you guys wouldn’t even miss any money you gave to me. You and Mike have so much of it.”
“Did it ever occur to you that we have so much because we’ve worked hard for so many years, and oh by the way, saved our money instead of spending it all?”
“I can’t help being sick!”
“You know what, Eddie, I’m sick too. Sick of you. You know me, there’s a lot more I could say, but I’ll keep it simple, that way you might actually get it. Don’t ever call me again!” With that she jabbed the off button on her phone, ending the conversation. Her heart was racing. Hanging up wasn’t enough to quell her rage. She thought, “in addition to the off button, there should be a FUCK OFF button. Now there’s a technological advancement!”
Eddie stared at the silent phone lying in his hand. Listlessly raising his head, he stared straight ahead. His eyes and his life out of focus. The feeble winter sun had long given up trying to penetrate his grimy windows. The air and sheets remained unchanged in the dingy apartment. He sank further into his sagging sofa, and further into despair. He knew it was useless to ever call Jill again. Attempting to make her feel guilty was futile. Once Mike had succeeded in convincing her, she’d never change her mind. Those two had grown so close over the years, that if they ever got a divorce, they’d need a surgeon as well as a lawyer to separate them.
He sat, hardly moving, long enough for the light to disappear behind a thick layer of threatening clouds. An early twilight seeped into his apartment. The storm arrived bringing a mix of sleet and snow. The sound of ice pellets pecking against the window unnerved him. He would have to face this nasty weather in order to buy food for his dinner. New York winters were not for the faint of heart, and his was weak.
Hunger drove him out of the apartment and into the storm. Bending into the wind, he thrust his hands deep into his pockets for warmth. Sleet stung his face as he slipped along on the snow and sleet covered sidewalks. Mother Nature was not always maternal. Thankfully it was only a couple of blocks to the grocery store. Passing by St. Bridget’s he found himself closer to the homeless than he wanted to be. Their cardboard boxes, used as makeshift homes, littered the church steps. The men inside them shivered. He thought that for some, death would soon erase all memories of the cold. Passing an empty lot next to the church, he noticed a few scrawny bushes that had survived the scorching summer, huddled under their blankets of snow. Even the plants struggled here.
L
ife was not easy in this part of the city. Someone had named this borough Queens. “Where did they come up with that?” The only queens who had ever lived here were not royal. He knew that the lights of Manhattan, now hidden by storm clouds, glittered in the distance. Even though he could usually see it, he couldn’t get there. It might as well have been The Emerald City. It wasn’t the problem of too many miles to travel, it was the problem of too little money. Manhattan was the island of millionaires, living in skyscrapers, who could afford to look down on the rest of humanity. He felt that where you ended up in life was unpredictable. Make a right turn, step off the curb, and get hit by a car. Make a left turn, and meet someone who will change your life forever. Eddie continued straight ahead until he rounded the corner at the end of the next block. A cheerful red and white sign, ‘Mr. J’s’, hung above the door of his destination. He entered the warmth of the brightly lit store, bringing the chill of winter in with him. The aroma of homemade food cooking in the little kitchen in back of the small store filled the air. People usually left Mr. J’s with much more than they had planned on buying. Eddie’s meager budget didn’t allow him that luxury.
“Hello Eddie,” the store’s owner greeted him. A short stocky powerfully built man with thick black hair and thick features, Boris Jovanovic’s unfailing good humor and warm personality made him beloved in the neighborhood. He had quietly helped out many people when he learned they were going through hard times. This had earned him a loyal following. Some came back to shop at his store even after they had moved away.
“Close the door all the way. I don’t want to heat the whole neighborhood.” Smiling, as usual, he waited for Eddie to tell him what he wanted, although it was always the same.
“Roast pork hero and a diet coke.”
“How about some hot peppers on that? They’ll warm you up.”
“Nah, you know I don’t like them.”
“You should try it sometime, always good to try something new.” He busied himself making Eddie’s sandwich, smiling and humming as he arranged the ingredients on a freshly baked roll.
“How come you’re always so cheerful? All you’re doing is making a sandwich.” This was the first time he had ever asked anything about the friendly man making his sandwich. Before this, he only talked about himself. Mr. Jovanovic always listened with sympathy and offered encouragement, assuring him he would get his transplant and regain his health. The only thing he knew about the grocer was how much he loved America.
“You see me making a sandwich. I see me making a life. I’m grateful to be in this great country. America doesn’t give you anything, you have to grab it. But here you can grab it.” He handed Eddie his dinner, took his money and placed it in his well-filled cash register. Even in a storm, people have to eat.
Eddie trudged back to his apartment more depressed than before he had gone out. Even an immigrant was doing better than he was. The grocer had traveled thousands of miles and found success only two blocks away. Apparently Eddie didn’t know how to read the road map to a better life.
He had always relied on others to provide for him. First, of course his mother, and after her death, Jill. Then the Navy gave him meals, housing and orders to follow orders, which he never questioned. He felt more at sea now in civilian life than he ever did on any ship.
After his discharge Jill had urged him to invite some of his old friends and acquaintances over for dinner. She said it would be a good way to readjust to civilian life and to start networking. “Who knows, it could possibly even lead to finding a job. People are usually willing to help returning veterans. All you’d have to do is to make a meal.”
Eddie had refused.
Jill was exasperated with his attitude. “Your problem is that you say no to everything. If you always say ‘no’ to life, that’s what you’ll get. No life.”
Eddie didn’t answer. After he developed heart problems, he felt his body had become his jailer. It never occurred to him that it was really his mind.
He reached the entrance to his apartment without any ideas about what his next move should be. His disability check and his left ventricular assist device were his lifelines. But neither could be relied upon to sustain him for too long or too well. He felt like the Tin Man in search of a heart. Stamping the snow from his feet, he opened his mailbox embedded in the wall of the narrow foyer. He was clearing out the usual junk mail that cluttered the box when the door from the basement that led into the foyer was pushed open.
“Eddie Gavula, just the man I was coming up to see, after I finished taking this trash outside.”
“I know the rent is due. I expect my check will be in tomorrow’s mail, since it didn’t come today.”
Walter Staab smiled, but Eddie knew he wouldn’t be smiling tomorrow if he didn’t get his rent. Eddie had been renting the two rooms over Staab’s Hardware for almost eighteen months now. When he first moved in, he was hoping it would be a very short time before he could move to a better place, but since he did no more than hope, it never happened.
Walter Staab was the third generation to own the store. While Eddie could see that his landlord worked hard, still he resented the fact that the business had just been given to him. “Why can’t someone leave me something?” he thought. But all he said was, “Tomorrow, I promise.”
He entered his apartment, turned on the overhead light bulb, and searched for a clear surface to put down his dinner. The coffee table was strewn with empty containers of take-out food. The folding card table next to the Pullman kitchen held dirty dishes and a pizza box. The sink also was filled with dirty dishes. He couldn’t even put the pizza box in the trash can since it was already filled. He had to settle for balancing dinner on his lap.
Tomorrow, he promised himself, he’d straighten things up. Tomorrow was becoming his favorite word, since he never accomplished anything today.
The next day, Eddie hoping the check would be there, opened his mailbox but was only half surprised that it hadn’t arrived. “This always happens to me. It’s not my fault. I don’t control the mail. How can I be expected to pay the rent without my check?” Looking for a job to supplement his income had never occurred to him.
Remaining in his apartment for the day to avoid the landlord wasn’t an option. If Walter Staab didn’t get the rent, he’d knock on Eddie’s door. If he didn’t get an answer, he’d use his key to enter the apartment. It had happened a couple of times before. On those occasions, Eddie had returned home to find a note taped to the refrigerator door. The note gave him two options, pay up or pack up. The unwritten message was just as unsettling. There was no way he could hide in his own apartment. He had to get out now in order to avoid an unpleasant encounter with Staab.
Luckily for him, while still cold, the weather had cleared. The morning sun was melting yesterday’s snow. He had no particular destination in mind, but found himself retracing last evening’s route. Instead of the slippery conditions he had encountered during the storm, today his only obstacle were the stacks of newspapers piled in front of the stationery store next to St. Bridget’s. He stepped over them, taking care not to fall. The delivery man hadn’t even made any effort to carry them from his truck to the store’s entrance.
“What’s wrong with people today?” thought Eddie. “First the mail doesn’t come on time, now the delivery man is too lazy to put the papers where they belong.” Looking out on the world it was always easy for him to find fault. He never directed his gaze inward.
He knew he’d have another obstacle to face when the weather turned warm. It was then that the store owner’s three dogs waddled out, and taking up as much room as possible, sprawled out on the sidewalk. Most people smiled as they made their way carefully around the overfed animals. Eddie always crossed the street to avoid them. He resented the fact that these animals did absolutely nothing, yet obviously never missed a meal.
Whenever he heard anyone comment that someone was ‘treated like a dog,’ he thought of those three. �
�I should be treated so well.”
He rounded the corner, coming to Mr. Jovanovic’s store. One glance in the window made it impossible for him to keep going. From where he stood, he could see Jovanovic talking to a tall, slender, beautiful young woman. He had to go in and see her.
“Hi, Eddie, what do you want?”
“What I want is to go to bed with this gorgeous girl,” he thought. “A cup of coffee please.” He was finding it hard to concentrate. She was even more beautiful up close. She had soft dark curls that peeked out from underneath a cherry red woolen cap. Her face, flushed from the cold, was calm and sweet. Wearing a cherry red woolen coat that matched her cap, she looked like a rose blooming out of season in this bright winter day. He felt his heart would have stopped just looking at her if he hadn’t had his assist device. He was surprised when he saw her lean in close to Mr. Jovanovic and give him a light kiss on his cheek.
“Bye, Pappa. Thanks for watching Stroopsie. See you later.”
Eddie, smitten, was disappointed she never looked in his direction.
Then she was gone, unaware that Eddie had been staring at her. Her father, however, was not unaware.
“So you like my Anna,” he teased. “I see how you looked at her. You’re not the only one. Here’s your coffee.” He handed it to Eddie who was sitting at the one small table set aside for customers who wanted to eat in the store. A funny looking, short legged, black and white spotted mutt trotted happily at his heels. When she saw Eddie, the dog backed away and started to bark.
“Quiet Stroopsie, don’t be rude to the customers.” The grocer smiled indulgently at the dog and took a treat from his pocket to quiet her. She stopped her barking, but moved no closer.
“My daughter’s neighbor used to walk Stroopsie, but he moved away. So now I’ve got the dog while Anna works. Stroopsie’s a rescue. Anna took one look at her and fell in love. Adopting this dog proves my girl has a good heart. She has a soft spot for underdogs. She says she gets it from me,” he beamed.