going out

Not PG rated

It’s five past six and the doorbell rings. Dana looks up, surprised. She was positive he would forget. Nervous, she presses the buzzer and opens her front door. He comes up the stairs, looking cool and relaxed in his scullcap and wide black jacket. He walks in and looks her up and down, surprised. Dana tries to explain.

‘I thought you wouldn’t come.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen you for so long and…’

Dana stops talking when he smiles. ‘It’s ok,’ he says. ‘Just get ready.’ Dana smiles, relieved, ‘I’ll be right out.’ She runs to her bathroom and takes a very quick shower, hoping her small apartment is ok and not too ‘lived-in’ like her Mom always said. Once done she runs to her wardrobe. She doesn’t know what to wear and asks,

‘Where are we going actually?’
‘It’s nothing big, there’s this thing at a friend o’ mine.’
‘Thing?’
‘Open mic night. They’re tryin’ out their tapes. Unless you’re not into that.’
‘Oh no, I love rap!’

Dana blushes. That came out wrong. She doesn’t turn around, but she can feel his eyes on her while she dresses. She smells coffee. It’s nice that he can keep himself busy. Some guys just became helpless. Dana doesn’t put on a lot of make up, fills up a small handbag with the essentials, and finally steps out into the middle of the room with a smile. ‘Done.’

He’s leaning against her table, a cup of coffee in his hand and smiles when he sees her. He removed his jacket, he’s wearing a light sweater and dark jeans with those white Nikes they all seem to have. He still has his skull cap on and she notices the studs in his ears, they flash in the light. They look really good on him. ‘Is it ok?’ Dana asks, turning, and he smiles like that again, nodding. He puts the cup down, picks up his jacket and they leave her apartment. Dana closes the door while he waits behind her. When she turns he kisses her. It’s a long kiss and Dana is full of smiles inside.

There is a lot of glass and light. She never leaves long enough to be completely out of sight. She makes him eat and talk, they go out for walks with Hunter. She keeps the questions away from him, but sometimes he hears the calls. As long as she is there he is able to ignore them. He always wears a hat and a scarf when he leaves the house, it’s still very cold outside.

Evenings are spent with a fire burning and shadows dancing on her face. She reads and he listens, all he wants is her voice. In the morning she lets him lie in bed until she wakes him with coffee, eggs, bacon, jam, butter and toast. She sits next to him on the sheets and watches him eat, she doesn’t leave until he’s finished. She leaves the door open when she showers and when she cooks she always talks to him. Every now and then however, the void fills every sound inside and he has to hold her, touch, feel and smell her skin. Eyes closed her scent is filled with sound, the darkness fades into something close to light and he can open his eyes again. At night it is worst. Then the silence is thick and heavy and sweet to a point that it sickens him and he has to breathe deeply to hold down his dinner. He doesn’t wake her then, his body is almost dead in these awful moments, motionless without any air.

One morning he found her crying over the kitchen sink. He felt his body go numb. She looked at him, tears streaming down her face, colourless and bright. Her shoulders were shaking, bare under the thin straps, her whole body faint with a lack of tension, all loose ends in sight. Memories sprouted, taking root and spreading like ivy on forgotten walls. In another life he would have walked to her, taken her up and carried her safely away, but then a world stood between them that had no doors for either to enter.

I think she’s enjoying it. It’s probably not the place she’d go to, but she seems to like it. She’s moving to the beat, eyes on the stage, yeah, the boys are good tonight. Vaughn’s people have this huge basement and every other week they stage some acts. It’s cool, people like it. Vaughn gets some good money out of it. Sometimes Delroy shows up, collects some tapes for that studio downtown. I haven’t seen Nisha, so that’s cool and there are enough drinks, so it’s all good. Amanda looks good. Came from a small town somewhere and got lost here, happens all the time. She ain’t got that edge yet, but that’s good somehow. And that skirt fits her damn fine.

The beats are coming through the walls. She’s all smooth and soft under her – if this goes on – hard not doin’ it with her hands all over – she’s all ready to – where’d she get that from? She smiles, all sweet, ‘I thought I should take one, just in case.’ Good thinking – Fuck – damn woman, where’d they make you? I want her to say something, like last time – all naked on pink sheets – fuck that’s good –

Back at Jermaine’s. It was closest and he’s outta town anyway. She’s sleeping now and all I can think of is Nisha and all that shouting. You really think you’ll make it? What the fuck? Why doesn’t she see it? Aly made it. And yeah, J.’s not exactly normal, but who’s normal anyway? Wonder how they are up there. Aly sounded ok on the phone. Nisha hasn’t tried anything, she can be tough like that. I won’t call. I always call.

What the – oh, yeah, she’s still here. Amanda. What kind o’ guy calls his kid Amanda? Some Rob or Hank, maybe even a Ted. Probably got married straight outta college, steady job, wife ‘n’ kids, two cars, barbecues, football, the whole thing. It’s not bad though, Amanda. Manda. Mandy. Nah. Amanda. Aman. Ama. Am. Manda. Yeah. She’s got really long hair. And she sleeps like a kid. She’s a fine girl. Not the kind to be all her on her own though. She’d be good with some banker, lawyer, someone up in those offices. She’d look seriously good in – Aly called it somethin’ – Where’s my effin’ LBD? Yeah, one o’ those. Can’t have her all up in my street though. Manda. Amanda. Sounds better the more you say it. Maybe that’s it. Better keep it down though. Nisha all pissed… Nah, better go. No need to make it worse.