by Mark Stewart
THE YOUNG lady hunched her shoulders reading the computer screen. She launched her chair back and stood. "I hate these machines," she yelled. "Why do they always stop working at the most inappropriate time?"
In her rush to get away from the computer, she knocked the crystal vase full of red roses from the side table. Water carried the glass fragments across the polished floorboards in a growing slick. The echo of the accident made her freeze.
Seven sharp knocks on the wall made her tremble.
"Amber Cantala, are you alright?" croaked the woman's voice from behind the thin wall. "I heard something crash."
The young lady sidestepped to the wall. Cupping her hand around her mouth, she said in a calm voice. "I'm fine Mavis. Thank you for caring."
"I thought you might have fallen to foul play."
"I'm fine; I accidentally knocked the vase onto the floor."
"I hope you don't have friends over. You know the rules against a party. I'd have to report you to the building manager. I do like to have quiet. It's the reason why I live in this quaint old building. The tenth floor is my lucky number."
"I'll try to remember," called Amber. She walked into the bathroom and came back carrying the largest towel she owned, throwing it over the pond of water. Pulling her mobile phone from her pocket, she tapped ten numbers on the pad. While waiting for the person to answer she paced the floor. Facing the wall where Mrs. Mavis Croaky talked to her she growled through a locked jaw. "I'll remember the warning, you, interfering old biddy. One day soon I'm leaving this shoebox size room on the tenth floor to start a new life. It won't be long before I have my medical degree. I'll set up my private practice many miles from here. Close to the beach might be nice. You and I will never see or hear of each other again." Scrunching her nose at the wall, she pushed her fist into the air.
"Good evening Amber," said a man's voice at the other end of the phone, interrupting her one-sided argument.
"Craig Benyon, could you be a darling and come over. My computer crashed again."
A short silence marred the phone line.
"Please!" Amber pleaded. "I need someone I can trust to do a good job."
"Okay," Craig answered in a voice that sounded completely flat. "I'll be there in two minutes."
Amber opened the door wearing a schoolgirl expression. "Craig thanks for coming so quick. I love the way you always come running when I call." She leaned in to kiss his cheek.
The young man pushed his brown hair from his face, looking Amber in the eyes. "It's no bother."
"Are you sure? You seemed to hesitate before agreeing to my request."
"I just stepped out of the shower."
The girl looked doubtful.
"It's God's honest truth."
Craig Benyon stepped into the small apartment and walked across the room to the computer. Glancing at the roses on the floor he asked. "What happened?"
"In my rush to ring you, I bumped the vase off the table."
"Did Mrs. Mavis Croaky from next door bang the wall over the noise?"
"She sure did. I hate this building. I hate this apartment. The slightest noise I make and the old woman threatens to have me evicted."
"If she's successful you can live at my place," suggested Craig.
"You're so sweet," replied Amber pinching his cheeks. She flicked her long dark hair from off her shoulders, flashing him a smile.
"Amber, I've something on my mind. I've waited for ages waiting for the right time to say it."
"Speak your mind; I'm a brave girl."
Craig looked around the room, starting to fidget. Focusing on the one remaining fragment of glass on the floor, he walked over to pick it up. "Forget it. What's on my mind isn't important."
"It must be, or else you wouldn't have brought it up."
"You should buy a good anti-virus for your computer." Craig chuckled before settling himself at the table and readied himself to start work on fixing the computer. "I'm happy you called me. At least I get to see you every week," he confessed.
"I don't believe for a heartbeat fixing my machine is what's on your mind."
Craig ignored the taunt by focusing on the monitor in front of him. Inside half an hour he'd completed the task.
"All done," he remarked.
Amber took him by the hand, escorting him to the door. In silence, they walked to the lift and stepped inside.
"What are you up to?" asked Craig.
"You'll see," replied Amber.
The lift doors opened at the roof.
"Sit on the seat so we can have a heart to heart chat," hinted Amber, smiling at his sullen expression.
"You want to sit in the rain?" questioned Craig.
"I sure do. Up here Mrs. Croaky can't hear our conversation."
The pair sat on a two-person seat, looking at nothing in particular.
"Seeing how you dragged me up here, insisting we sit in the rain, you can start the talk," said Craig fidgeting.
"Let me begin by saying you're a great friend."
"Before you say another word, I guess now is the right time to say what I've been thinking about," said Craig, interrupting.
"I knew you were thinking something other than my computer and only needed an opportunity to say it."
Craig sprinted over to where a rose bush grew out of a large pot, near the building's wall. He stooped, picking a blood red rose. He sat next to Amber grinning as he surrendered the flower. "It's the only thing I could find on such short notice."
Amber carefully took hold of the long stem rose. Re-focusing on Craig, she looked directly into his eyes.
"Let's hope old Mrs. Croaky doesn't discover your vandalism or she'll have your guts in a pot."
Craig chuckled. Slipping off the seat, he downed his knee and looked up into Amber's eyes. "I know your dream is to have a private medical practice. Mine is to build computers so I can sell them to help pay for my science degree. I know they are two different worlds, two different dreams. Please, Amber, consider being my wife. There's no hurdle higher or wide enough we can't conquer together."
"I sensed you were going to ask me to marry you. I can't say yes. Out there somewhere amongst the caf?'s, the nightlife of Melbourne, there's a young lady waiting for you. She's your Miss Right. It wouldn't be fair of me to deny her a happy life. I know this might sound crazy, I have a feeling my Mr. Right isn't far away. Our paths have yet to cross. If I pursue, a relationship between us the two-people searching for their rightful partners will be devastated."
Tears began to flood Craig's eyes. To hide his embarrassment, he lifted his head to view the sky. "It's still raining," he commented.
"Craig, I need you to look at me."
He slowly dropped his gaze and stared at Amber. "I want you to know from the moment you moved into this building I have loved you."
"You've never said," whispered Amber.
"Not in so many words. None actually, but I hinted every chance I could."
"Are you the one who left a red rose at my door every few days since I first moved in?" asked Amber.
"I didn't know how to tell you they were from me, so I kept quiet. Up until today, I've left seventy-four roses. The one in your hand is number seventy-five."
"I'm flattered. I honestly didn't know. Craig, can you understand I can't love you? It's not you; it's me. One day a young woman will enter your life. You'll spoil her rotten. The person isn't me."
"It could be?"
Amber reached for his hand. "No, it can never be me. Please understand when I say you are the nicest, sweetest young man I've ever known, but it won't be fair if you and I were together."
"I don't see it your way. I will always respect and treat you properly."
"I know you will."
"I'd always be faithful to the most attractive, perfect person in the world."
"I believe every letter of each beautiful word you've spoken."
Craig bowed his head. "I understand what you're trying to say. Deep down I know we're meant to be together.
I'll be waiting for the time you come knocking on my door. My light will never be switched off for you." He looked up, leaned closer and gave Amber a kiss on the cheek. Marching towards the stairs, he didn't look back.
In silence, Amber watched him leave.
CHAPTER SEVEN