by Andy Mandela
Chapter 7
Streetlight after streetlight, traffic light after traffic light, building after building. I’m counting the objects as I drive past them. I don’t want to let my mind just wander about, thinking of ideas, scenarios, past, present, and future. Especially the past, that’s the worst one, in general, I mean. That is, except for those who have had a seemingly flawless life. The people in magazines, commercials, and ads. They all seem to have incredible lives, like nothing bad has ever entered their life. There are happy couples, happy families, laughing amongst each other, all having the time of their lives in a fictional utopia.
Sometimes those ads depress me, and other times they lift me up, figuratively speaking. It all depends on the mood I’m in at the time. If I’ve been moping around, being a loner kept up in my apartment all day, those ads can really get to me. I don’t even want to look at them. On the other hand, if I’ve been around people and have been kept in a good mood, or if I have been feeling uncharacteristically optimistic, those ads become welcomed. I’ll use them as motivation to work harder, so I’d be able to achieve the future I really want and desire. I might see a really nice bedroom set and say to myself, “One day I’ll have that.”
Believe it or not, there is a good side to this city. That would be the suburbs, the houses located right at the edge of town. Sometimes when I’m driving by, I’ll see all the amazing houses and say to myself, “One day I’ll live in a house like one of them.” I pictured a woman with me, raising a family, and watching television on a big screen on a Sunday afternoon. That is my dream, and I am willing to forget and abandon everything about my past in order to achieve that dream.
And I bet that when I get to Karina’s place, and if she has a department store ad lying open on a table or counter, I will smile and think to myself, “That’s my future.” And indeed it will be. Time and patience is all it costs, not taking the money into account.
So as of right now, I am driving to Karina’s apartment. The address she gave me over the phone was 1129 London. She said the name of the place was called Queens Apartments. How appropriate, Queens Apartments on London Street. Karina didn’t have to give me the numbers, I knew where London Street was, but have only heard of Queens Apartments. I don’t remember where. Plus, it is nighttime, and I wouldn’t figure it best to attempt to be searching for numbers. But anyway, London Street was not far from where I lived. From my place, it would’ve been only about a two-minute drive.
Karina said she would be waiting inside the lobby to take me up to her room. God, when I think about it that way, it really sounds like a booty call. Oh no. I hope that’s not what she has in mind. I really hope not.
I’m almost there now, just a few more minutes. I didn’t say anything that would imply sex when I called her. She has been to my apartment and nothing has happened. Now I’m going to her apartment and have no idea what’s in store. We’re not dating, and we’ve only known each other for a few days. Oh, but it feels so much longer than that, I swear. Maybe she’ll make an excuse for how late it is and try to get me into bed. I remember how she looked in my room this morning. Just like an angel, a true angel. Now I’ll be on her turf and I’m afraid I won’t know how to act. “It’s okay,” I think to myself. I need to get a hold of myself. I’m letting my imagination drive instead of me.
I make the turn on London Street and search for the building. Maybe she just wants to talk, you know, hang out. I’m not going to call her back and say that I won’t be able to make it. Not only might it make her feel unwanted, but it will definitely make me look like a coward. I don’t want to push her away, no that would be last thing I ever do. Not even the last, just something I would never do. Pushing her away will only leave her vulnerable to all the other no good guys who would only give her attention just so they can get in her pants. I’m not saying I want to be her knight in shining armor, protecting her from the evils of men, but what I can say for sure is that I care about Karina a lot. She was there in my life when I needed her, and I’ll be damned if I turn my back on her.
The building has to be around here somewhere. I pass various places, but not one of them resemble an apartment building. I’ve just thought about turning around, when… yes, I think I’ve found it. My headlights light up the letters written on the side of the building. The letters were of gold-painted metal, with “Queens” being the largest and the word “Apartments” hang right below it in smaller letters to where both words appear the same length.
I parallel park on the side of the street as the building. As I’m walking toward the front door, I can feel the humidity of the air. I think it’s getting ready to rain. Taking a quick look to the sky, I continue for the door, noticing Karina sitting at the bottom of the stairs waiting for me. In that moment, I knew she really cared. I may mean about as much to her as she does to me. For some strange reason, I feel like Prince Charming rescuing sleeping beauty from the castle. Only in this case, there’s nothing to rescue her from. I was the one being rescued here, and past this door, the future waits.
Karina’s head turns, then a smile appears on both of us as I enter the building. The light in the lobby was dim, not as much as the light in the hallways of my building, but still dim. It made Karina’s skin lose a little bit of her fair-skinned appearance. She quickly stands up and greets me.
“Hey there,” she says, almost sounding a bit too girly. She’s wearing pink pajama pants and socks with a skinny white t-shirt which greatly accentuated the curvature of her breasts. I could tell she was also wearing a black bra underneath, just by how sheer the shirt was.
I responded, “Hi, uh, you haven’t been waiting long have you? I know it took me a while to…”
“No, no,” she answered, her smile unable to disappear. She seemed more cheerful with every word, which was kind of making me nervous that perhaps she had something on her mind for tonight that I may have falsely led her to believe. “It’s fine,” she said,” Come on, I want to show you something.” She walked me to the elevator, which I assumed we would ride up to her floor. We got inside and she pressed eight, the highest floor of the building.
“You live on the top floor?” I ask her.
“No, I live on the fourth floor. I said I wanted to show you something first.”
“What is it?” I asked, hoping she would reveal to me the mystery.
“You have to wait. It’s not fancy or surprising, but you just have to wait. We’re almost there.” We got out of the elevator once we reached the eighth floor, then she led me to a door that led to the roof.
“Are we going to the roof?” I obviously questioned.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure we can go up there?”
“It doesn’t matter. No one cares.” Karina grabbed my hand as we made the short climb up the stairs, leading me as I trail shortly behind her. We make it to the top and then the humidity of the air hits me again. “Here we are,” she welcomed, as I observe what it’s like to be standing on the roof of a building. “Over here,” she directs, going off to the side, where I noticed two chairs and a table with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She says, “I did it right before you came over. You like it?”
“I do, but I feel like a bottle of wine is something you have to be dressed up for,” I say.
“Yeah, but it would still taste the same is pajamas or a pair of jeans.”
“I suppose you’re right,” I agree, as we both sit down in our chairs. I didn’t bother to read the name of the wine, but I was sure that a girl like Karina had good taste. As she poured her glass and I poured mine, I couldn’t help but tell her, “You know, surprising someone with a glass of wine is usually the kind of things a man would do for a woman. As pleasant as this is, you didn’t feel at all strange doing this for me?”
“I suppose it would be weird if I was the one planning on proposing to you, wouldn’t it?” she said. “But in this case, no. However you would be right in most cases, but since you were the one coming over here, I felt that I w
anted to do something special for you. After all, you have been very nice to me in the short time we’ve known each other, more than most guys are anyway. This was just my way of saying thank you.” Karina was making crystal clear perfect sense.
“Since you put it that way,” I said, “You are very welcome.” I tried to say that as non-condescendingly as possible. I continued, “I should probably be thanking you just as much.”
“For?” She seemed interested in what I had on my mind.
“Well, for the same reason you just mentioned, as well as inviting me over, treating me to delicious wine,…” The wine really was quite good. “… spending time with me, especially during a time when I needed someone the most.” I think I’m getting better at maintaining eye contact while talking to someone. I’m also noticing Karina’s skin in the moonlight has changed since being in the lobby. Her skin now appears milky white within a shadow of herself. I noticed I could see very well in this light. My eyes have adjusted to the dark since I’ve been up here on the roof.
By now, I have seen Karina in various shades of light, in each she appears more beautiful to me than the last. I really was engaged in our conversation, I just had to take a moment to describe how beautiful Karina was, particularly now, since I‘ve been waiting to see her all day. I wish I could tell her how pretty she is. I could if I wanted to, but I don’t want to make myself look foolish in front of her, even if it’s just the two of us up here alone. This is supposed to be a fun night, so I’ll just keep my feelings to myself at the moment.
I finish my last thought, “And most of all for being a friend.” She looked a tad bit disappointed when I said that last part. The word “friend” is what I think made her feel that way. Now I feel a little bad too. We didn’t let each other know, but we knew. I race to find another topic to put under discussion. I don’t let my face show that I’m sorry about what I just said. We were supposed to be more than just friends. She can’t take this and neither can I. Her smile was less genuine now.
Karina thinks of something to say. “So how did your plans go tonight, before you came over?”
“Oh, uh, fine,” I said. I didn’t want to tell her the truth, but I wasn’t going to lie. I sure as hell wasn’t going to start lying to her, but I knew she was going to ask me what I was doing. I tell her, “It didn’t take nearly as long as I thought, which is why I thought I would go ahead and call you. So how has your day been?” I felt changing the conversation to her would take her mind off my night.
“Oh, nothing much. Just hanging around.” She said.
I asked her, “What did you do after you left my place?”
She answered, “Just some random stuff. Then I came back here and…” she chuckled, “… took a nap. I found her laughter a bit odd.
“What’s so funny about that?” I wondered.
“Oh nothing, I was just thinking about something else.”
After a while, we each had about three glasses of wine to drink. I was still very far from being drunk, yet I still felt buzzed nonetheless. We had just finished our glasses when I felt a drop of something on my arm. Then another drop, then another. My prediction had come true. It was beginning to rain.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, looking up into the sky.
“Yeah,” she said, although not appearing to be affected by the rain in any way. The drops began to fall a little bit faster now. She said, “I think it’s probably time to go back inside now,” grabbing her glass and the remainder of what was left in the bottle. We both got up and walked to the door.
I asked her, “Do you just want to leave the table and chairs out here?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fine. Let’s go.” Once inside, we made our way back again to the elevator, only this time Karina pressed four. At least I knew she wasn’t ready for me to leave just yet. “We can continue in my room,” she said, as we both smiled at each other, waiting for the elevator to let us off. I noticed that Karina had a small drop of water on her forehead left over from the sprinkling. She must not even know it’s there.
I pointed to my own forehead and said, “You got a small drop of water right here.”
“Oh thanks,” she said, wiping the wrong side of her forehead, leaving the little drop intact.
“Other side,” I told her. “Here, let me get it.” I used my middle finger and in a downward motion wiped her forehead, drying my finger on my shirt. I realized that was the first time I have touched Karina’s face. I know it’s not that much of a memorable moment, but I most likely won’t forget it anytime soon.
“Thank you,” she said again,
“No problem.” The bell dinged as we reached the fourth floor. The door opened and the first thing I noticed was a hallway full of doors. The carpet was dark green with a long red rug which ran the entire length of the hallway. I couldn’t even see the end of the hallway because it curved left. As we walked down, I asked her, “Which one is yours?”
“9C,” she replied. I read the doors as we walked past them Odd numbers were on the right, even numbers were on the left. 5C, 6C, 7C, 8C. Finally, 9C. Her room lied right before the curvature of the hallway. “Here we are,” she said song-like. 9C in big gold slightly tarnished letters hung from her door. She put her key in, and let me in.
The carpet in her room was white, like mine. “Let me take your glass and I’ll put all this in the kitchen,” she said. I handed her the glass and she went on her way. Her bed was in what I’m guessing should have been her living room, right up against the adjacent wall. I hope that didn’t mean what I think it meant. I think of all the guys she might have had here over the years. No, I’m just making assumptions. But it did make the apartment look more like a hotel room. In general, the apartment was very nice, with a lot of room. For some reason, I was expecting girly wallpaper, stuffed animals, plush pillows, and wacky colors everywhere. But it wasn’t like that at all. It was a mature apartment. Suitable for a mature person, or woman. All of her dressers and normal bedroom items lie in this part of the room. The left side of the room, in the farthest corner, was the kitchen. It was nothing more than cabinets, a refrigerator, and a sink really. Instead of a dining table, she had one of those islands with barstool-like chairs, only with backs.
I was just observing the room, hoping one of us would continue the conversation. But I think I forgot where we left off.
“Would you like some more to drink?” Karina call out across the room.
“No thanks,” I answered, making my way to her. “After drinking too much, I usually have this dreadful habit of waking up in the middle of the night unable to fall back asleep, which can be very annoying at times.”
She made her way toward me after putting everything up. “Well then, let me show you around, not that there is a whole lot to show. She led me into a short hallway, which ran directly behind the kitchen. “Straight ahead is the bathroom and right here is where I keep most of my stuff. She had a room solely for storage too, just like me. Inside were a couch and a television, surrounded by various items neatly organized on bookshelves. Among them were movies, books, shoeboxes, and plenty of other things that could be used to kill time.
It was now when I felt compelled to ask her, “Why does it seem like you’ve taken your bedroom items and placed them in the wrong room?”
“I know it looks odd,” she said, giving an honest face, “but I like the other room better. It’s bigger. Plus, I don’t have to walk very far if I feel like having a midnight snack in the middle of the night. We both laughed, perhaps I did a bit more. “Come on, she said, “Let’s go back in the other room.”
Once there, we both noticed how the rain had picked up. There were now flashes of lightning to go along with it. This looks like the making of an introduction to a new story, beginning with the ol’ dark and stormy night cliché. “Good thing we came inside when we did, huh?” she said. We took our seats on the chairs next the counter, both our eyes gazing out the window. “Ever since I was a kid,” she said, turning back to me, “I’
ve always loved thunderstorms.”
“Me too,” I returned. I needed to get something off my chest, but didn’t know how to say it, or if it is even a good thing to say it at all. Karina continued to discuss her fondness for thunderstorms, while I troubled myself over the decision whether or not to keep my thoughts to myself or not. I didn’t find pleasure in tuning Karina out for the moment, but her story and the way she was rambling made me suspect she was holding something in as well, perhaps even hoping that I would interrupt her and break up the tension that was building up along with every word. There was no question that we both felt the awkwardness of this particular, somewhat plight.