A New York Romance

by Winters, Abigail

  Julie was drifting off to sleep. Charlie laid there and listened to the music in his head. He could recall every note from every symphony from memory.

  He felt more comfortable around her as he began to let his true, brighter, spirited colors show. He no longer felt like he had to hide in the shadows to conceal his true identity. But part of Julie felt a great distance from him even while lying in the bed next to his. How could she feel close to him? Although he was kind and harmless, she still knew nothing about him except that he had a wild imagination.

  Chapter 12

  The next morning Julie noticed the difference in Charlie. He appeared as if a great weight was lifted off his shoulders. His secret was out. Whether she believed it or not was another matter, but simply because he told someone that which he kept inside himself for so long, he was freer, livelier, more comical, and open to share other dimensions of himself that were previously shadowed.

  She has heard many lies from boys over the years. Although Charlie’s claim to be Cupid was indeed the most unusual, it seemed honest. He did not appear to have an ulterior motive, like the boys who claimed to be wealthy or were in the middle of a big acting break or record contract. He seemed to want nothing from her but her company, even figuratively pushing her away when she got too close.

  She knew he was a little strange. Surely he had some kind of psychic ability, too. But Cupid? That was just ridiculous. However, he was harmless enough, and besides, as she thought before, what was a young aspiring actress to do in New York City with no money and no place to stay? Charlie seemed to have an unlimited supply of money for basic needs and then some. Also, he was fun and a gentleman at all times, and so one more day turned into a few days.

  He loved Central Park. He acted like a little kid, enjoying the narrow paths that twisted through the snow-covered hills. He watched with detail the birds that rested in the naked trees. He seemed fascinated with the ice that hung from the stone hills, as if he was from the south and never saw a northern winter before.

  Julie noticed the way he looked at these things, as if he was seeing them for the first time. At night he stared at the few stars that were not hidden by the city lights. He looked at the stars as if he was fascinated by them over and over again. He never seemed to take them for granted and while they seemed insignificant to most people, the view of the stars brought him much joy. There was something simple yet profound about him that Julie could not place or understand, but the more she watched him, the more she felt it. She was attracted to it, yet the strangeness of it all also kept her heart at a distance.

  The last snow had fallen and the days were getting warmer but still chilly. They enjoyed spending their time exploring the city. She noticed the way he often took off his shoes and placed them by the door when entering quiet buildings such as libraries, museums, and even carpeted offices. She could not help but laugh at his playfulness; his harmless, childish antics he occasionally and unknowingly took too far.

  On one occasion Julie turned to find him wading through a public fountain in his bare feet despite the coldness of the water. He splashed the children walking by who vicariously smiled at him, knowing that if they stepped in the fountain their parents would scold them.

  “You need to get out of there, sir,” a security guard suddenly warned him. Charlie just stood there in the water out of his reach. He lifted some water in the palm of his hand. Then he lightly tossed it underhand toward the security guard, grinning as it fell upon his left shoulder and poured down the chest of his jacket. Not only did Charlie act like a child, he acted as if the security guard was a child to play with.

  “Get out of there now, sir,” he repeated placing one foot on the edge of the fountain after watching the water drip off his lapel. “This is your last warning.”

  Charlie stared him down taunting his opponent in some game inside his head. He pulled his middle finger into his palm and covered it with his thumb. The other fingers were stretched out as the tension built up and he flicked the surface of the water. The drops were catapulted through the air landing sparingly on the guard’s face and chest signaling the start of the battle.

  The guard quickly leaned over the edge to grab Charlie but his polished shoes were no match for the slick marble surface and he fell into the pool of water. Even the children who watched with their mothers were too shocked to laugh. More security guards surrounded the fountain as the one chased him around the inside under the falling water. Charlie jumped out of the fountain and the others began to chase him in circles. Julie suddenly became amused with it all as the children laughed at the smile on Charlie’s face as he dodged the guards, jumping over the benches, pretending he was reading the paper until they caught up to them. He jumped back on the edge of the fountain, balancing on the wet marble edge while guards chased him below. He ran around it once then to everyone’s surprise he voluntarily jumped into one of the security guard’s arms.

  Julie grabbed one of the guards by the arm and turned him around. She stood on her toes and whispered into his ear.

  Charlie kept the smile on his face as the guard put him down. He stood there staring at the colorful parachutes that appeared in the sky as the plane passed. They drifted above the trees of the park in front of a canopy of white fluffy clouds. The people watched Charlie watching them, as if unconcerned or unaware of the trouble he was in.

  “Okay, release him.”

  “What?” the guard soaked in fountain water questioned.

  “He’s free to go,” the guard said, and then he turned to Julie and whispered, “Just get him out of here.”

  “What did you tell him that convinced him to let me go,” Charlie asked Julie as they walked away, glancing back at the parachutes falling behind the trees. The wet guard was complaining in the background to the others.

  “I told them you thought you were Cupid.”

  “So he believes in me,” Charlie thought out loud. “He let me go because I’m Cupid?”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” Julie agreed knowing that the guard believed he was mentally ill, but harmless.

  In Charlie’s mind love was the fabric that held things together. Love kept chaos from reigning. In times when the world lacked great love, such things as war, famine, and natural disasters covered the Earth. Love was always on Charlie’s mind, not in the form of thoughts; he simply dwelled in the feeling of it. Love was who he was, what he had become from dwelling in it so often. He did not have worries running through his mind like most people. His mind was mostly empty, but he was always aware of his surroundings. As they walked down the streets, Charlie radiated a wish of love to every person he passed, and back at the security guard soaked in water. He was given the rest of the day off which he spent with his wife. She had been feeling neglected by him, but not this day. In fact when he arrived home soaked with unfiltered city water he told her about falling in the fountain while chasing some wacko off his meds. She made him soup while he showered. Then he told the story of the idiot again, shared some laughs at Charlie’s expense, then reminisced about their own memories. Their joy was contagious to each other and a romance was rekindled. None of which would have happened without the wacko idiot who thought himself to be Cupid.

  Chapter 13

  The morning after the fountain incident Charlie said upon waking, “I have a present for you.”

  “A present? What is it?” Julie sat up in bed.

  “I can’t tell you now, that would ruin the anticipation,” Charlie grinned like a child on Christmas morning. He hoped out of bed and started getting ready. “You’ll find out when we get there. For now we’re going to buy you a dress.”

  “A dress?” she repeated hoping the clue would reveal part of the surprise, but it did not. There were perhaps thousands of places a girl could wear a dress in New York City.

  “Yes, a really nice one. One like Cinderella would wear to a ball or a fancy evening dress. No more questions.”

  She could tell Charlie was more excited about giving pr
esents than getting them. He put on his hideous jacket then grabbed his toothbrush, frantically applying the paste while stepping into one of his shoes.

  “I still have to get ready.” She was still under the covers in her T-shirt and underwear. “I’ll have to do my hair if we’re going somewhere fancy. I should repaint my nails.”

  Charlie neglected to consider the maintenance a woman takes to get dolled up. He should’ve set an alarm and woke her earlier.

  “We can get that stuff done after we find a dress,” Charlie suggested. “The dress is the most important part.”

  It was the only part he considered, really.

  “Alright.” She could tell he was eager to go. “I’ll hurry up and get ready.”

  She rushed to the bathroom while Charlie started brushing his teeth in the main room, waiting for a chance to use the sink while the paste burned his mouth.

  Once ready they spent the morning walking the streets of the city staring into the windows of the shops and cafés. When Charlie came upon the most beautiful women’s dresses he could find, they entered the store. Julie tried several of the dresses on but picked out the one that Charlie liked best. It was a deep red, elegant and stylish, as if made for young ladies who wanted to stand out at a party. The dress was sleeveless and draped over Julie’s body by a strap on each shoulder. The front hung low and slid tightly down the rest of her body, accentuating her curves, ending in a wavy ruffle near her ankles. A pair of high-heeled shoes and a delicate pewter necklace and she was nearly complete, or so Charlie thought.

  “What do you think?” she asked him, pulling him out of his strange stare, the way he stared at the stars at night.

  “Anything more could only take away from your beauty,” he whispered, almost loud enough for her to hear. His stare said enough for Julie.

  “Would you like me to wrap it for you?” the saleswoman asked.

  “She’ll wear it out,” Charlie said as he glanced at the clock on the wall.

  “Now I just have to get my hair and nails done,” Julie said. Charlie forgot. It was his first eye-witness account that dressing a woman was not as simple as buying her a dress and shoes and throwing it on.

  The saleswoman wrapped a shawl around Julie and said, “This will keep the cold wind off your shoulders.”

  “Thank you,” Charlie responded, as if the woman did a favor for Julie rather than making another sale. He knew it was the love of a bigger commission that motivated her suggestion, but he didn’t care. He often let people take advantage of him in financial ways, as money seemed to put them in a better mood, for a while anyway. If fact he gave her a large tip, hoping it would help satisfy her needs. But mostly he didn’t object because time was of the essence today.

  “Now you can just head upstairs to our hair and nail department and they will fix you up,” the saleswoman suggested.

  “Okay,” Julie agreed as Charlie checked the time again. He started to feel the tightening in his stomach that most men got when shopping with their female companion. He wanted to do something nice for her, but there was a time limit. The event would be starting, but she seemed more interested in getting ready for the surprise than the actual surprise itself. It was an event all in its own.

  “I’m going to run next door and buy a suit myself to save time.” Charlie hooked his thumb in the direction of the store. “I saw some in the window when we passed by.”

  “Yourself?” Julie and the saleswoman said simultaneously. Their look said, ‘you can’t do that alone. You’ll never buy the right one.’ Charlie could read their expressions, a mixture of frowns and bewilderment, then followed Julie upstairs without a word.

  When her hair, nails, and makeup were complete, Charlie raced next door, and picked out a fine suit without putting too much thought into it, but Julie rejected it and designed him an outfit that reflected the colors in her dress. The suit was black but was decorated with a red tie and handkerchief, accented with a white shirt and dark shoes. Charlie simply thought to himself, I could have done this.

  Feeling exhausted, Charlie began to wonder if they would make it. His stomach was churning now, but he said nothing to her, as he did not want to spoil the smile that painted her face.

  “So what’s the present, Charlie? I would take the dress as a wonderful present but I can only assume we have somewhere to go dressed like this.”

  “Yes, you are right. We should get going, it will be starting soon,” he said as he hailed a cab. The ride was a short one but Charlie did not want her to get her dress dirty walking along the city streets, nor did they have the time to walk.

  “Here we are,” he said as the cab came to a stop. He opened his door and with the speed of a fly he was there to open her door. He held out his arm to help her out of the cab over the litter filled street.

  Julie did not even notice the garbage that lay against the sidewalk or the smell of the overflowing trashcan a few steps away. She only noticed the kind gentle way Charlie treated her. No one had ever treated her so well before, besides her father, to whom no other could compare. In the back of her mind she could not help but wonder where this was leading, not the night or the present he had for her, but Charlie himself. What did he really want with her? No one is this kind for no reason at all.

  She kept these thoughts to herself as they entered the Merkin Concert Hall on West 67th Street. Julie read the headlines written in large black print above the entranceway. On the program tonight was Ludwig van Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.

  “This is exciting Charlie! I have never been to a symphony before,” she said as they entered and took their seats. Everyone sat with anticipation, waiting for the lights to dim as the late stragglers fumbled for their seats. The crowd was a mixture of older ladies and gentlemen and middle aged, upper-class couples. Everyone was neatly dressed, appearing as if they had been there a thousand times before. Diamonds hung from ears and pearls were wrapped around necks. The men dressed in black and the woman in elegant gowns.

  Suddenly the lights went out and the musicians began tuning their instruments. Then the conductor came out on stage. After a short applause they began to play.

  Julie was immediately absorbed in the music. She had never really listened to such music before, but from the first note she was captivated. The Master himself, Beethoven, seemed to echo every human emotion through the hall. His desperation, rage, and misery crept through the notes then quieted into the comical tones, as if God himself was laughing at his pain. Joy came off the pages through the instruments and into the hearts of the audience. A sudden burst of anger again. Moments of rage echoed through the hall with the slightest hints of joy lingering underneath the malevolent tones. Oh, the joy that could be felt!

  But as in life, no joy lasts. Melodies built to such exhilarating blissfulness, such freedom and happiness. Then the joy was suddenly interrupted with darkness, as if one could hear the woes of life that had rained down upon the Master himself.

  All the emotions of life spilled out of the instruments from the heart and mind of Beethoven, intertwined with the musicians who played them, both the beauty and chaos, the joy and the pain, the laughter and the desperation. Such was the experience of life. Such was the experience of love. It was as if Beethoven cried out to God, Where is the everlasting joy you promised? It was as if Beethoven felt such a blissful love, perhaps for a woman, but could not hold on to it. Chaos, perhaps insanity, rained down between the fleeting moments of joy he had experienced. It was Beethoven’s masterpiece, thanking God for the joy and love that life can be, yet it was as if he screamed out in anger at how fleeting these moments truly were. Single violins cried out like lonely souls. Harmonies of strings and horns seemed to carry the melodies off into the heavens then came crashing down into the futility of everyday life.

  Juliet was overwhelmed by the beauty and chaos that danced together, revealing the full range of every human heart. A single silver tear ran down her cheek, dripping off onto the back of Charlie’s hand, which held her
arm tightly until the music’s end.

  When the applause died down for the maestro, everyone exited the theatre.

  “That was wonderful, Charlie. I never really new music like that existed,” she said as they stood outside the hall, Charlie was no longer holding her arm.

  “It is not as funky as the Humpty Dance or the Macarena, but it is beautiful music. If people listened to such things more often they would find true love more easily.”

  He was staring up at the sky, trying to see the few stars unhindered by the light and smog of the city.

  “Maybe we should get back now. It’s getting late,” Julie suggested.

  The night was cold when they left the concert hall, but all the snow had melted. The streets were dirty and the lingering melodies of Beethoven made the city canyons seem like a strange new alien world, as if the vibrations of the music resonated in the buildings and people, and changed them forever, even if they did not hear it.

  Julie felt a strange new connection with Charlie. She held his arm all the way to their room. When they entered she waited for him to kiss her, but he did not. She wanted to slip out of her dress right in front of him, but she did not. Charlie simply turned to the window again and stared out silently into the distance.

  Julie walked up to him, her beautiful dress flowing around her. She placed her hand on his shoulder and sat beside him.

  “Are you scared, Charlie?”

  “Scared of what?” he asked.

  “Of life. Of death. Everything,” Julie said.

  “No,” he shook his head. “Are you?”

  “Yes.” She let her hand slide off his shoulder and tucked it in the palm of her other hand on her lap. “I’m scared all the time,” she confessed. He turned all of his attention to her. “I don’t know what will happen in life. I don’t know if I’ll see my mother again. I don’t know if I’ll be an actress, though that seems least important. I’m scared that no one will love me enough to marry me. If I do marry, I’m afraid it won’t last. I don’t know what will happen in death. I’m just scared all the time. Even when I’m happy, there is always a fear of not knowing what will happen next, underneath it all. Like you said about time earlier. I feel time pressing down on me. Soon I’ll be old and what will I have accomplished? It could all be over in an instant and I’ll think, what was the point?”