by Karen Reis
There was the usual yelling and berating at the table too, so I started to wolf down my food as fast as I could so that I wouldn’t have to spend so much time sitting next to her. Then I came up with the idea that if I ate less, I could finish that much faster, and so, I spent my entire teen years sneaking food after meals so I wouldn’t go to bed hungry. After a while, I got used to being hungry, and just plain did without.
I don’t really hate you for this, I just thought it might be one of those things that you didn’t care to take notice of, and I just wanted to point it out to you.
With Much Confusion,
Your Daughter
Chapter 4
“I’ll call you, okay?”
I eyed Dan Doherty as we stood in the middle of the parking lot of the coffee shop that was right across the street from the library, and I realized just why it is that I don’t date. People are insane. I had taken the time to blow-dry and curl my hair, which was no mean feat because it is stubbornly straight, heavy, and thick. It always wants to curl in the wrong direction too. It is evil.
For the occasion, I had put on my nice jeans, dabbed some of the mascara and eye shadow that I had bought that same day on my eyes, and I’d cleaned the dirt off my sneakers. And how had Dan repaid my efforts? He talked through the entire movie! He made comments. He made jokes. He knew exactly where in the filming Debbie Reynolds had collapsed from exhaustion. He told me how much of a perfectionist Gene Kelly was, and how much he hated the dream sequence because of the lady in the sexy green dress. He said her legs bothered him.
Now, under normal circumstances I would have replied and told him that I think that the lady in the green dress is really hot, and that her legs looked just fine. I also found it interesting that Miss Reynolds collapsed because the Genester was a jerk, but I would not have a discussion about it in the middle of the movie! I too like to sing along to the lyrics of a song, but at home, not in a theater! And I really don’t care about the symbolic meaning, the moral of the story, or any philosophical blahbity-blah. It’s Singin’ in the Rain, not Schindler’s List!
So I looked skeptically at Dan, who of course had brought his key collection along; it jingled from his belt like he was a school janitor, and thought, Call me? Yeah, right. I vowed then and there to never date a coworker again.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said slowly, backing away towards my car which was just a few steps behind me. I tried to speak kindly since I didn’t want to hurt Dan’s feelings and I certainly didn’t want to get into an overly emotional confrontation. I’d either burst into tears or call him a freak of nature. Neither was ideal. “I think it would be better if we just saw each other in a professional capacity and left the memory of this evening behind us, okay?”
Like a pro, I unlocked my car, dove behind the wheel and waved goodbye to Dan as I started the engine and zoomed out of the parking lot. I hadn’t given him a chance to say a word in reply. If I didn’t want to get into a messy confrontation with him, then I certainly didn’t want to give him the chance to try to talk me into having another date with him. I hoped that he would get the message and not try to confront me at work. The prospect of him hounding me at the library, maybe even telling other people, like our boss, that we had been out on a date together, was nerve racking. We had entered the library’s theater separately and had left in the same way for just that reason. The idea that I might get in trouble for going out with Dan the Key Man pissed me off.
I decided that this was all Genny’s fault. My mood was not helped by the fact that I had had a horrible time and I was very hungry. Coffee shops don’t have dinner menus, just sweets and bakery goods, and the cheese Danish I had had was quickly wearing off. I didn’t want to cook that late in the evening and as I pulled into my apartment complex and parked, I figured I’d just choke down a bowl of cereal or a piece of bread and butter or something equally depressing. I walked up the stairs to my apartment in a huff, but just as I was about to pass Sean’s door, I stopped, turned around, and halted in front of it.
I thought about the flowers he had left on my door twice now. I thought about Genny’s words to me. He was interested in me, she said. The flowers proved that he was kind, considerate, and concerned for me. The notion that he could feel such concern for me freaked me out, but I didn’t run away as my instincts told me to. Sean was home; his truck was in its spot and there were lights on inside his place, which meant he was awake, it being only 10:15 pm.
I felt the sudden desire to talk to him.
Not knowing precisely what I was doing or even what I wanted to say to him, I raised my hand, which only shook a little bit, and knocked. And waited. But he didn’t open the door. I knocked again, my nervousness vanishing at his lack of appearance. Nothing. I sighed. Maybe he was avoiding me. Maybe he had caught sight of the evil look Nancy had sent his way and had decided to avoid me. I wouldn’t blame him, really. Sometimes I wished that I could avoid me too. Feeling rather dejected, I happened to glance down at his welcome mat. It had a picture of Garfield on it, and he was looking up at me imperiously with a word bubble above his head that said, “If you don’t have any lasagna, GO AWAY!”
“I don’t have any lasagna,” I whispered to Garfield, depressed once more.
With that I turned and started to walk to my apartment door, unconsciously biting at my nails, wondering about why Sean would avoid me. He probably wasn’t as nice as everyone thought he was, I decided.
I started to unlock my door and it was then that I heard some voices coming from the other side of the parking lot, make voices, and my heart rate increased. As a single woman in the city I took my personal safety very seriously. I carried mace and a stun gun in my purse, and I had taken self-defense classes at the community center. I had been a teacher’s pet in the class because I didn’t seem to have the usual female hang-up against hurting someone physically.
However, that didn’t mean that I took casual strolls at night or hung around to look at men as they prowled the darkness. I might be paranoid but I was not a moron. So I quickly let myself into my apartment and locked the door after me. Once safely inside, I forgot about the creepy men and went back to thinking ill of Sean. Maybe he thought I was a dork, I thought as I wandered about my kitchen, looking for something to eat. Maybe he had company over, female company. Maybe he lived a double life and had pulled the wool over Genny’s eyes and was busy getting wasted. Maybe despite the flowers bouquets Sean was really a rat bastard and a puppy killer and maybe I didn’t really want to get to know him after all.
Maybe he deserved a slow death.
The sound of breaking glass jerked me out of my reverie. I dropped the crackers I hadn’t even realized I was eating on the counter and raced to my front window to look outside. I didn’t see anyone, so I grabbed my stun gun, tucked my mace spray into my back pocket, and went outside to investigate.
Maybe I really was a moron after all.
My neighbor Charles’ window had been smashed through with what looked to be a rock or a brick. Glass littered the walkway outside their door, which had the word FAGS written across it in angry red spray paint. Other people were emerging from their apartments to see what was going on, but I called inside to Charles and his boyfriend Glen, “Everyone okay in there?”
“Yeah,” Charles called out after a moment. “Glen’s calling the police now.”
“What happened?” I asked.
Charles opened the front door, and when he saw the hateful graffiti on it his whole body tensed. He looked angry and afraid at the same time. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory,” he said stiffly. “Some homophobe threw a brick through our window in an attempt to terrorize us.”
I looked through their window. They had a couch right in front of it. “Neither of you were sitting on the couch, were you?” I asked in alarm, looking Charles over. He didn’t have any cuts on him though.
“No,” he said. “We were in the bedroom.”
“Oh good,” I said in relief
. It crossed my mind to wonder what they’d been doing in said bedroom, but it was none of my business. Thinking about what they did in the privacy of their own home did not help me help them.
Glen, my Wedge Antilles look-a-like, popped his head outside. “Oh, hey Carrie,” he said, pushing his longish brown hair out of his eyes. He didn’t look nearly as shocked over what had just happened as Charles did. He waved his cell phone at Charles and said matter-of-factly, “The police are on their way.”
“Guys, look at your cars.”
I jumped in surprise at the sound of Sean’s voice behind me. I hadn’t noticed it, but he’d emerged from his apartment too and was looking down at the parking lot. All three of us followed suit, leaning over the railing of the landing. I sucked in my breath when I saw what he saw. As I’ve mentioned before, Charles had a classic 1950’s Ford truck that he had been slowly refurbishing. Only last week had he finally put a new coat of paint on it, making it look like new again. Glen had a little foreign hatchback something or other that sat right next to it, but both vehicles had been keyed, their tires were slashed, and they had been spray painted liberally with curse words and a giant GOD HATES YOU on both windshields.
It was horrible and shocking. I had never seen anything so despicable in my life.
Both Glen and Charles turned away from the sight. Other people saw the vehicles too, and I watched while some shook their heads and said “what a shame,” while others pointed and nodded and agreed with the message. I looked at Sean, gauging his reaction. Sean was among those who were shaking their heads in dismay, and I was glad. He wore no superior, smug look on his face that suggested he thought that it was Charles’ and Glen’s fault that they were victimized.
Sean looked at me and asked, “Did you see or hear anything?”
Charles and Glen looked at me hopefully. Obviously they had no clue as to the identity of their attackers since they’d been in the rear of their apartment, but I could only shake my head. “No. I heard some voices when I was coming home a few minutes ago, male voices, maybe two or three guys, but nothing distinct and I didn’t see anyone at all.”
Sean shook his head once more and looked regretfully at Charles. “Damn man, I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything either. I was on my back patio working out with my iPod on.”
So he hadn’t been avoiding me, I thought happily. He was working out, and I could see that this was true because he was wearing sweaty workout clothes that showed off his muscular physique.
Sean was fully aware that I was ogling him. I brought my gaze quickly back up to his face, but his eyes were fixed firmly downward. What was he looking at? Oh. My stun gun was still in my hand. He had a severe frown on his face and I thought Uh-oh as I tucked it into my back pocket next to my mace. Busted. But he didn’t say anything; he just stood by my side till the cops showed up a few minutes later, a female officer with a male partner. The woman interviewed Charles and Glen while the man interviewed me and Sean and the other neighbors. The male officer, whose name was David Trotter, called me honey and asked me questions in a very kind tone of voice. I thought by his manner that the officer was hitting on me, but I wasn’t sure, so I told myself to ignore his charming smile and just answer his questions. I told him what I had heard and about how I had rushed outside with my stun gun and mace. He smiled and called me brave but told me in the future to just stay inside and not try to be a hero. He asked me which apartment I lived in and took my phone number down, and then moved on to the next interviewee. No one could ID the perps, which made the cop’s job harder. They snapped photos of the two vehicles and confiscated the brick. They told Charles and Glen that since this was so obviously a hate crime the FBI would be called, and they suggested that everyone keep an eye out for suspicious goings on in the near future. Then they left.
As they drove away, the media showed up with their cameras and microphones and their probing questions. I wondered what idiot had called them up while Charles was asked if this was the first hate crime ever perpetrated against him. He gave them a stony, “No comment,” and went inside with Glen, shutting the apartment door in the reporter’s face. This didn’t faze the media; they were able to get a good shot of the vandalized front door. I was unlucky, and stupid enough, to still be standing nearby, and so I got ambushed.
“Excuse me, can you tell me anything about your neighbors?” the reporter asked.
“Um,” I said, not knowing what to say. Should I say ‘no comment’ and walk away, or should I say something nice about Charles and Glen? I opted for nice. “They’re really nice people.”
“Are you friends with the victims?”
Their names are Charles and Glen, I wanted to tell him, but instead I said, “Yes. We get along well. They’re good neighbors.”
My sentences were short and to the point. I did gossip or get emotional. I figured I was not a reporter’s dream interviewee.
“Do you think that you’ll be able to feel safe in your neighborhood after tonight?”
“Safety is a relative thing,” I pointed out. “Who really feels safe anymore?”
“Do you think the management company here at White Pines should be doing more to ensure the safety of its residents?”
Before I could open my mouth and say something stupid that would probably get me sued, Sean stepped up. “She has no comment on that.” He took hold off my arm. “Come on, Carrie. Let’s go inside. It’s late.”
I let myself be drawn away. The reporter didn’t miss me; he just turned to someone else and started asking his questions all over again. Sean led me to his apartment instead of mine, and when I would have opened my mouth to complain, he just gave me a look. I shut my mouth. If he had given me that look a few days ago I probably would have started screaming for help and the news crew would have gotten a great story. But now that I knew things about Sean, like the fact that he was an upstanding citizen and Isaac’s friend, not to mention the fact that he had good taste in flowers, I was no longer scared to death of him.
Well, I was still scared of him, just in a new, junior high sort of way. So I allowed him to pull me inside his apartment.
As soon as the door was closed behind us, he turned to me and demanded, “What did you think you were doing out there?”
He was frowning and he looked rather upset and intimidating, but I reminded myself that he wasn’t a serial killer. “What? I was just answering some questions.”
He shook his head in frustration. “That’s not what I meant. What were you doing out there with a stun gun? You told the cops that you were the first person outside after you heard the window breaking.”
“I figured I was going to stun someone,” I said carelessly. My plan should have been quite obvious to him.
“Didn’t you think for a minute that whoever had done that could have been lurking around still and that you could have been hurt?”
“No.” I held back a smirk of amusement. I thought this line of questioning was amusing, but I didn’t think Sean would appreciate it if I burst out laughing.
“Jesus,” he said, rubbing a hand over his bald head worriedly. “Suppose they had a gun?”
“I don’t have to get that close to shoot this thing,” I said, pulling out my stun gun even though I did see his point. I may have a warped sense of humor, but I’m not an idiot.
Wait a minute. Hadn’t I already had this conversation with myself when I went charging outside to face dangers unknown with only a stun gun and mace? My amusement began to drain away, especially as Sean added darkly, “A stun gun is no match for a real gun with bullets, Carrie.”
“I know,” I said, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Alright? I know that going out there was stupid, but in the movies, when someone throws something through someone’s window, they always take off as fast as possible because they’re just cowards and bullies. I didn’t think I’d be in any real danger.”
“If you really thought that, why did you take the stun gun with you?” Sean challenged me, crossing his
arms over his chest.
I crossed my arms over my chest too, even though I know the effect was not the same considering my arms were skinny and his were big and muscular. “You have no right to bully or lecture me,” I said stubbornly.
Sean opened his mouth as if to argue the point, but then snapped it shut and shook his head. It was his first taste of my bullheaded, argumentative personality. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked me tiredly, sitting down on his couch and looking up at me as if I were the oddest creature he’d ever seen outside of a zoo.
“Nothing,” I retorted logically. “We hardly know one another and it’s not your job to keep me safe.”
“If anything like this ever happens again, please just stay inside and call the police.”
I looked at him through narrowed eyes. He seemed genuinely distressed that I had gone outside with my stun gun, and I knew that he was right, so I decided to put him out of his misery and agree with him. “Okay,” I said amiably.
“And we’re not strangers anymore. We’re friends. Right?”
His gaze was so intense I couldn’t hold it, and I looked down at my feet. I glanced up at him swiftly, and then back down again. “Thank you for the flowers,” I said quietly, accidentally not answering his question.
It was Sean’s turn to look embarrassed. “You were unhappy,” he said gruffly. “I thought they’d cheer you up.”
I smiled at his discomfiture. “It worked,” I said softly. Then, “How did you know I was unhappy the first time?”
He gestured towards the walls. “The insulation’s not so great here. Sounds carry.”
I blushed. He’d heard me crying through the walls. That was horrifying. I backed towards his front door. “I-I guess I’d better go. Thanks again.” I turned to beat a hasty retreat.
“Wait!” Sean said, leaping to his feet and striding quickly towards me. I stopped and turned around mere inches from the door and escape. Sean put a hand on my shoulder and I felt myself blush at his touch. I was acting very silly, and I knew it.