by Donald Wells
Hell, maybe she’s just hungry.
David raises his croissant up in a “Want some?” gesture and the girl just keeps staring at him. He shrugs and commences eating.
He attempts to concentrate on his newspaper, The Sunday Times, but cannot resist peeking around it to see if she’s still standing there, finally, he gives up and decides to stare back. Now that he’s giving her a good look, her youthfulness surprises him.
I bet she’s not more than twenty, twenty-one maybe. You know, underneath the grime she’s damn good-looking. Jesus! Has it been so long since I’ve been laid that even street people are starting to look good to me?
The girl has long hair as black as his own, with big brown eyes. She wears a Mona Lisa smile and multiple layers of clothing that leave her figure a mystery.
David tires of the staring contest and decides to try a direct approach.
“Hi, my name’s David. Would you like to sit down? It’s my treat.”
The girl’s smile widens now, but she still says nothing.
“At least tell me your name.”
Nothing
“Favorite color?”
Nothing
“Political affiliation?”
This makes the girl smile brilliantly.
What a great smile. She must not have been on the streets long; her teeth are perfect.
In the next instant, the girl tilts her head, as if she were listening to some sound that David can’t hear.
God I hope the voices in her head aren’t telling her to kill me.
All at once, the girl looks panicked and rushes toward David.
He instinctively stands up in a defensive posture, even though the girl couldn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds and is nearly a foot shorter than his six-foot height. She stops her approach and stands before him, frantically gesturing for him to leave his table while looking back at the alleyway she’d been standing in when he first spotted her. She’s still not talking, but now her face is a mask of fear.
“What’s wrong? Why do you want me to follow you?”
One more anxious look back at the alley and then she vanishes around the nearest corner. Seconds later, a group of four men emerge from the alley.
David can tell immediately that they’re trouble.
The four men cross over to the bistro and begin scrounging food off the customers’ plates and gulping down their drinks.
Seated at a corner table, is an attractive blonde wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white sleeveless top. The tallest of the four men goes to her and begins pawing her breasts.
The woman slaps him and his friends laugh. The man then yells “Bitch!” and slaps her back, hard. The woman collapses to the ground, crying.
A bistro worker charges out of the restaurant brandishing a baseball bat and making threatening gestures toward the tall man. One of the other punks grabs a carafe of steaming coffee off a serving cart and tosses it at the holder of the bat. The carafe hits the bat and shatters, burning and cutting the bistro worker at the same time, he falls to the ground screaming.
The tall man, David guesses his height to be at least six-foot-eight, then grabs the bat and raises it, as if to strike the wounded bistro worker.
David yells, “Hey!” as he runs over and tackles the thug, knocking the man and himself to the ground. He then looks up to find the man’s friends looming over him.
In the near distance, comes the sound of a police siren and the three men scurry away like rats.
The tall man has risen to his feet and is glaring down at David, he snarls and kicks at David, barely missing him, and then runs off.
When the police arrive seconds later, they are told what happened. The bat-wielding bistro worker is toted off in an ambulance, though his injuries seem slight.
A Sergeant Becker of the N.Y.P.D. takes David’s statement.
David notices that Becker has that same look that all big city cops seem to wear, a look of bored alertness. The boredom comes from the similarity of the petty criminal acts they have to contend with day in and day out, while the alertness stems from the knowledge, that to some, the badge they wear is a bulls-eye.
Becker takes notes while talking to David. “Could you describe the tall one, such as his hair color and eye color?”
“Yeah, he had brown hair, and his eyes were the same as mine—blue, oh, and he snarled at me if that’s any help. I mean who the hell snarls?”
“Right, listen, Mr. Manning, we appreciate what you did but if you see these guys again run the other way, we think they’re responsible for a number of brutal rapes and assaults in the area. If you see them or think of anything else, just call me at the Sixth Precinct.”
“Wait a minute, there was something else.”
“Yes?”
“There was a girl here, a homeless girl, right before the trouble started. The weird thing is, I swear she was trying to warn me away just before it started. It was like she knew they were coming somehow.”
“Prescient,” Becker says.
“Huh?” David says.
“Prescient, it means like psychic, able to guess the future, that sort of thing. I’ve been helping my kid study for the National Spelling Bee; I guess it’s rubbing off.”
“I guess so.” David says, while squinting against the escalating sun behind Becker’s shoulder.
“This prescient girl didn’t happen to stick around to witness the trouble did she?”
“No, she got the hell out of here seconds before it started.”
Becker closes his notebook. “Prescient and smart, but if she didn’t see anything she can’t help me, interesting story though. Well, like I said Mr. Manning if you remember anything else call.”
David tells Becker goodbye and sits back down in his seat at the little wrought iron bistro table.
How the hell did she know those punks were coming?
* * *
During his walk home, David looks for the girl, but she seems to have vanished.
While walking up the stairs to his third floor apartment, David is stopped by Mrs. Johnson who, as usual, is busy sweeping the hallway.
As far as David knows none of the six tenants in the building ever litter in the hall, yet you can find Mrs. Johnson sweeping the stairs and the hallways daily. David has come to realize that this is the old widow’s way of cornering people to talk to, as she does now with David.
“Good morning David,” She says, her youthful green eyes making liars of her wrinkles.
“Good Morning Mrs. Johnson, how are you today?”
“I’m doing fine now. Do you remember that problem I was telling you about, the one I was having with the I.R.S.?”
“Sure, you said they were harassing you over back taxes and threatening to garnish money from your account.”
“Right, well yesterday I got another letter from them, only this one says that my balance is zero and that I’ve paid in full.”
David edges toward the stairs. “Great, so the problem went away huh?”
“Yes, but how did it go away? I checked and not one dime is missing from my account. I don’t understand how it got paid.”
“If I were you I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Computer errors happen every day, at least this one happened in your favor. Just be happy.”
“I’m happy all right, it’s like a weight has been lifted off of me.”
David waves goodbye as he continues up the stairs to his apartment. “I’m glad that everything worked out for the best Mrs. Johnson.”
David’s apartment is on the top left-hand side of a converted three-story townhouse on Eighth Street, which was built in the 1920’s for a diamond trader. As he opens the door, he enters the long front room that doubles as a living room and dining room. Two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen make-up the rest of the apartment that boasts hardwood floors and plaster walls.
The first bedroom is just that, a bedroom, but the second one is crammed full of computers, printers and thei
r various paraphernalia. David turns on a laptop computer and starts checking through his e-mail.
I’m glad I could help Mrs. Johnson. Hell, instead of harassing little old ladies for their pension money, maybe Uncle Sam should buy a few less six hundred-dollar toilet seats and four-hundred dollar hammers.
David had started hacking twelve years ago when he was only sixteen. It thrilled him to break into classified sites and find out anything about anyone. More than one of David’s high school teachers suddenly found themselves facing an audit or being billed by phone sex hotlines they had never called. Not being vindictive by nature, David soon stopped performing those sorts of juvenile pranks and had instead started helping people.
Mrs. Johnson was far from the first person he had aided by hacking into government databases. David had gradually turned into a sort of Internet Robin Hood. Whenever he saw an opportunity to help someone by hacking, he would do it. He found it to be more challenging each year as companies and institutions consistently improved their security measures.
David loved the challenge and the ego boost that came each time he beat them, but he knew he would have to stop hacking soon or face a possible prison sentence. The laws against hacking were increasingly more punitive and their enforcers more tenacious. Every time David helped someone with a problem like Mrs. Johnson’s, he increased his chances of being caught and he knew it. What he also knew but wouldn’t admit to himself, was that he was addicted to hacking. The ego satisfaction derived from his computer skills would drag him back to it after every vow he made to stop, and besides, he loved doing it. He loved helping people.
As David is signing off, he spots her.
The window in his makeshift office looks down onto an alleyway that runs between his building and the vacant movie theater next door. Standing down in the alley and looking up at his window is the homeless girl.
“I’ll be damned.” David says under his breath.
I swear I looked for her all the way home and she was nowhere to be seen. How does she know where I live and that this is my window?
David opens the window and calls down to her.
“Well hello again, I should have taken your advice and left the bistro. Four guys showed up and started trouble. But you knew they were coming somehow, didn’t you?”
The girl simply stares up at David with a big smile on her face and says nothing.
I swear she looks happy to see that I’m all right.
“Why do you keep following me?”
More staring and smiling,
“Is there something I can do for you? Are you hungry?”
Now the girl shakes her head no.
Ah, at last we’re communicating. “I don’t know what you want from me. Can’t you talk?”
Again, the girl shakes her head no, but this time, the smile leaves her face.
She’s a mute? I don’t think I’ve ever met a mute before.
David sees her make that strange, little bird-like movement with her head again. It’s the same look she had at the bistro; it’s as if she were listening to something. She turns and stares at the alley’s entrance, looking as if she’s about to run.
In the side of the movie theater, at the base of the building, is a hole about the size of a basketball. The girl suddenly runs toward the gap and makes her way through it.
This shocks David. He would have thought the cavity too small for anyone other than a child to squeeze through.
“Damn! She went into that hole like a… like a mouse.”
A second later, a police car turns into the narrow alley and slowly drives through to the next street. After the patrol car has left, the girl climbs out of the hole and resumes her staring.
“You knew they were coming, didn’t you?” David yells to the girl.
Her only answer is to give him a big smile.
God what a smile she has, it lights up the whole world.
“How do you do that, how do you know when someone’s coming?”
And now the smile seems to say, that’s for me to know and for you to find out.
“That was a pretty neat trick squirming into that hole like that; you looked like a little mouse. In fact, I think I’ll call you Mouse, the name seems to fit you.”
The girl just continues smiling at him.
“Well, it’s been nice talking at you Mouse but I have to go out for a while, so bye bye.”
And to David’s surprise, the girl waves bye bye.
* * *
On his way to the supermarket, David realizes the girl is following him. She walks across the street and seems to stay just on the periphery of his sight.
This is so weird. Hell, I’m just going to ignore her, eventually she’ll get bored with following me and leave me alone.
The girl follows him to the market and then follows him home. David busies himself in his apartment all day and later watches television. From time to time, he looks out the office window, checking to see if the girl is still there. Of the few times she was not already standing there, she soon appeared from the aperture in the theater to gaze up at him. Just before going to bed, David gives one last look for her. She is there.
“Goodnight Mouse, I’m going to sleep now.”
Mouse’s only reply is a smile.
David closes the window and goes into his bedroom. He lies there in the dark, thinking about the mute girl with the great smile who seems intent on being his shadow. David whispers “Weird,” just before falling to sleep.
* * *
The next morning, he sneaks a peek out the window. She is there.
I’m just going to ignore her until she goes away. How long can she keep it up until she gets bored? After all, I’m not that exciting to watch.
David’s usual routine consists of going out for a three-mile jog in a nearby park, followed by a shower, and then a trip to either the bistro or a local diner for breakfast. He would later return home, surf the web until lunchtime, and make a sandwich. After that, he would resume his web surfing until hungry enough for supper and return to the diner. Following supper he spent more time on line, until he felt tired enough to go to bed.
It bored David to think about his routine, the girl watching him would be bored in no time he thought.
Two weeks later, she is still in her alley looking up at his window. She’s followed him everywhere and has apparently taken up residence in the closed theater building. David, it would now appear, has a living human shadow. He finds he can no longer ignore her.
This is ridiculous. I’m going to go down and talk to her.
David leaves the building and heads toward the alley. As he’s rounding the corner, he sees her feet disappear into the opening in the theater building. David leans down and talks into the hole.
“Hello Mouse, I know you’re in there, hey come on out. I just want to talk. I’m not angry or anything, I promise. I’m just wondering why you keep following me, that’s all.”
No answer of course and no sign of her appears, just a breeze of cool air coming from the hole in the theater.
“Mouse please come out. Aren’t you tired of following me around? I’m pretty boring huh? Well, I’m going to go get dinner now so I guess I’ll see you tagging along, goodbye.”
David turns and finds the girl standing right behind him. Her sudden appearance startles him and causes him to jump backward.
“Jesus! Mouse you scared the crap out of me. I guess you’re as quiet as a mouse too.”
She smiles up at him and advances.
David cringes somewhat, not knowing what to expect from the strange girl.
Mouse reaches out and puts her arms around David, hugging him, as she nuzzles her head into his chest. It is an act of pure affection.
He feels surprising strength in her arms, and inexplicably, an aroma of popcorn seems to be wafting from her.
“Is this why you’ve been following me? Is it because you like me? Let me guess, you think I’m cute, right?”
David’s looks ha
ve been described as “cute” by every girlfriend he has ever had, never handsome, never good-looking, just cute. David has always taken the word “cute” to be the equivalent of someone saying you have a great personality.
Mouse doesn’t respond, she just continues hugging him. David finds her embrace strangely comforting and a bit unnerving at the same time.
He senses no sexual impulse within the girl, just an overwhelming sense of affection; as if they’d been separated for a long time and have finally reunited.
Unsolicited by any conscious thought, David finds his arms encircling her and hugging her tenderly. The two of them stand locked together in an affectionate embrace for long moments. After a time, her grip slackens and she releases him.
When he looks down into her face, he sees that she’s crying. It is only then that he realizes he is also shedding tears. She smiles at him with that perfect smile and he grasps that the tears they shed are tears of joy, although from what source or basis he could not say.
David whispers, awestruck, “This is very strange Mouse, very strange.”
Again, the beautiful smile, and now he gives her a smile of his own, as he wipes away his unbidden tears. David sighs deeply and begins walking toward the entrance to the alley.
He turns to look back at her and finds she is standing beside him. David starts his walk toward the diner and Mouse walks along two steps behind.
At the diner, David takes his customary booth and sees that Mouse waits for him right below the window, the top of her head visible just beneath the windowsill. Before leaving, he orders a cheeseburger, fries, salad and a chocolate shake to go. On his trip back home, with Mouse still walking two steps behind, he makes another stop.
When he arrives back at his apartment building, he continues past its front door and walks down the alley. David stops in front of the hole in the side of the building and sets down his packages.
Mouse looks down at them and then up at him.
“Those are all for you. They’re just some sweatpants and a jacket, it gets cold at night now and I doubt you have any heat inside that theater. Oh yeah, the white bag there is food. I hope you’re hungry, the diner makes a really big burger.”
