Clockwork Romance

by Andy Mandela

  “Where are you going?” she questions, like she doesn’t want me to go anywhere. I hesitate to answer, which only creates suspicion for Karina. “You’re leaving so you can be with her, aren’t you?” once again, she’s right.

  “Yes, but I’ll call her right now and tell I can’t make it,” I say, about to take out my phone.

  “No, no. You should go,” she insists.

  “Karina, I’m not going anywhere until I know that you’re going to be okay,” I argue.

  “I’ll be fine, really.” She takes a pause. “Just tell me her name.”

  “Her name’s Hannah,” I say.

  “Are you happy with her?”

  “We’re good friends, but that’s all we are. But look, before I go, we need to talk.”

  “About what?” she asks.

  “About us. I need to know where we stand. Also, there’s something else I should say. In the time that we’ve been apart, I feel like, mentally, I’ve gotten a lot better. Maybe it’s because I’m not stressed, or that I’ve made friends with someone else, but lately, whenever you’re around, things feel different.”

  “Different how?” she wonders.

  “Like I’m… going crazy,” I answer.

  “So you’re saying I make you crazy? Is that it?” she says in a ticked off tone.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Karina,” I say, in my attempt to reason with her.

  “Fine. You wanna know where we stand? Get out. You think I’m making you crazy, then you don’t have to be with me anymore. Just go,” she demands.

  “You don’t mean that,” I respond, witnessing another tear roll down Karina’s cheek. “But I am going to leave now. I will be back later on to check on you, to make sure you’re alright. Until then, please rest.” I stare at her teary eyes. It hurts me so much to see her like this. “I love you.” Another tear rolls down her cheek once those words exit my mouth. She doesn’t say anything more, her eyes not even focused on me. I get up and walk to the door, looking back at Karina lying in bed. She’s so precious, like an angel. I don’t want to leave her. But she should be alone to get her mind back to the way it was. I mouth the words, “I love you so much,” while looking at her. She doesn’t notice, her head turned away.

  After exiting the apartment, I put my back to the door immediately once the door is shut. A tear almost rolls down cheek as well. I begin walking to the elevator, noticing that the first door on the right is open. I hear a creaking noise, like an old rocking chair moving back and forth. I slow down as I get closer to the door. I should just walk as fast as possible to the elevator, which can’t be any more than ten feet from me. I walk past the door, peeking inside the room through the corner of my eye as I do it.

  But I stop, and I’m scared to death to move. There is a man hanging from the ceiling, noose around his neck, swaying back and forth with his back to me. I let out a short scream before closing my eyes, wishing I didn’t see what I just saw. I turn around and repeatedly push the button for the elevator. I turn back around to see the door to the room is shut.

  How? What the hell just happened? What the hell did I just see? Part of me wants to reopen the door to see if there truly is anything on the other side, or if it was just my imagination again. For some stupid reason, I walk back to the door, but find that it’s locked as I twist the doorknob. I don’t hear any sound inside. But I hear something else now, like a growl, coming from the end of the hallway, which I can’t see. It sounds like a stomach growl, only from something much, much larger.

  The elevator doors open behind me, so I don’t waste a second running inside. I think I might be starting to sweat again, unless it’s just this suit. I hold out my arms and see that I’ve managed not to get blood on it. I’m starting to get really tired of having to calm myself down after a panic attack. This whole week has been fine until this happened.

  As I’m driving to Hannah’s apartment, I keep telling myself, “Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine.” It’s a sunny day, a nice day, the way I’d like it to stay. I have enough time before arriving at Hannah’s to get my feelings in check. Hannah’s apartment complex is beautiful. There’s a swimming pool and a gym. This must be the stop people make before actually moving into their own house in the suburbs. The complex isn’t like mine, with a hotel-like structure, but with room doors facing outside. I find Hannah’s room and park. I park right next to her car.

  I go up to her maroon door, reading “11A,” and knock. She answers the door only seconds later, greeted by her in her pink scrubs.

  “Hi, come on in,” she welcomes. The door closes and she continues, “I was just about to change, go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right out.”

  “Sure,” I say. Her apartment is beautiful, just as I figured. It doesn’t look like an apartment. Instead, it has more of a layout like an actual house. A long hallway with two bedrooms and a bathroom. There is a nice kitchen, dining room, and plenty of living space. I walk into her kitchen, which reminds me of a domesticated house, with pots, pans, dishes, silverware, and glasses. The kitchen leads into the dining room, with wooden floors and mahogany furniture. The dining room has three entryways. One back into the kitchen, one that leads into the living room, and the last one that opens up at the end of the hallway. Hannah’s bedroom was at the end of the hallway as well.

  I stepped back into the white-walled living room, and waited for Hannah to come back out. She has pictures of her family set out on small tables against the wall. I hear her bedroom door reopen and soon see Hannah walk back into the room, wearing an orange blouse and jeans ripped at the knee. She looked happy in these photos. There’s even one of her in a fancy dress, like she’s at some kind of formal dinner.

  “So what do you want to do? Sit back, watch television? Talk? I like your suit by the way,” she rambles with sincerity.

  “Thank you,” I say, as she throws herself onto the couch. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

  “No, not really, why?” she asks. “You got something in mind?”

  “Actually, I do,” I say, sitting down next to her. “How about we go dancing?”

  “Dancing?” she asks, intrigued and delighted. “Isn’t that a place for… couples?”

  “Well, sure, but who says two friends can’t enjoy an evening of champagne and an orchestra?”

  She thinks about it, with the look in her eyes already agrees with me. “Okay,” she says with an excited smile.

  “Great, and I’ll even wear this suit,” I say, which makes her laugh.

  “Well it does look good on you,” she replies, losing the humor and adding generosity. “But first,” she says, turning the television on, “I have to tell you about my day.”

  I sit comfortably next to her and enjoy her company, just as she’s enjoying mine. We spend a nice afternoon together talking about what’s on the tube, as well as Hannah’s somewhat humorous private life, consisting of stories about people crying at the dentist’s office who need to have teeth pulled.

  Once the evening came, Hannah took the time hiding in her room, getting ready for our night. I’ve been waiting for about forty-five minutes watching television and the sun go down, making the room grow darker. Eventually, the bedroom door opens and I hear Hannah’s footsteps walking down the hall. I had turned on the lamp in the room, so there would be plenty of light in order to fully admire what Hannah is wearing. She walks in the room wearing a long light pink dress with diamond-like sequins across the chest to her left shoulder. Her right shoulder was bare, her hair looking elegant. I stood up in amazement, turning off the television the second she walked in.

  “How do I look?” she asks, like she has no idea how beautiful she is.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous,” I say with the raise of an eyebrow.

  “Thank you. I have a few dresses, but I didn’t know which one to wear. I don’t really wear them very often.”

  “Well you look lovely,” I assure her.

  “Let me just get my purse a
nd we can go,” she tells me.

  “Sure, but can I ask you something first?” I ask.

  “Um, okay,” she says.

  “I noticed earlier that you have two bedrooms in this apartment. Do you have a roommate?” I ask.

  “No, I used to. She moved out a while back, but I loved this apartment too much to leave,” she explains.

  “Oh,” I say.

  “You ready?” she asks, holding a small purse over her shoulder.

  “Yes,” I say.

  We get to the ballroom, which has a traditional bar setting. It looks like a room from the early twentieth century. It had fancy floors, long drapes on the walls, and plenty of ladies and gentlemen dancing. Hannah and I walk to the bar, where we are greeted by a nice older gentlemen wearing a vest and a bowtie.

  “What may I get for you two tonight?” he asks.

  “I’ll have a bourbon,” I tell him.

  “And me the same,” Hannah says.

  He gives us our drinks and we hold the glasses while I think of a toast. “Here’s to…” I say. I don’t really have anything at the moment.

  “Us,” finishes Hannah. We touch glasses and drink. There’s an orchestra playing and a man singing in an old-fashioned voice. Simpler times. That’s what this place reminds me of. “Do you like this kind of music?” she asks.

  “Of course, it’s classic,” I tell her.

  “I like it too, it’s just that I’ve never really listened to it,” she says.

  “Then how about we dance? That way we can enjoy it,” I suggest. We put down our drinks and walk to the dance floor, moving through a crowd of other couples, some older, but only a few as young as we are. Hannah and I face each other, my left hand holding her right hand. Her other arm is around my shoulder and mine on her waist.

  We don’t talk at first, just stare into each other’s eyes while listening to the music. I felt like I was dancing with a high society woman at a party in the forties.

  “You’re a good dancer,” she compliments.

  “Thanks, I don’t get to practice very often. But I suppose it helps having such a good partner.” She offers a small smile, not showing teeth, showing she is flattered. When the song is over, a new one begins. This one is a slower, more loving number. We remain in the same stance, but Hannah rests the side of her face on my shoulder as we dance slower. There’s now a new feeling over me. I think I’m falling for Hannah.

  I still love Karina, and I don’t want anything to happen to her. But I believe, like I’ve stated before, our time might be over. I might go over Karina’s place tomorrow to tell her we should stop dating. But I know I promised her I would come back today. We’ll just see how the rest of the night goes, and if I’ll have time to stop by later.

  Hannah and I spend about another hour at the ballroom, returning to the bar periodically for a drink. Hannah tells me she’s been having the time of her life, that she wishes she had her own ballroom.

  After dancing, I take her out to dinner, as we share another great meal together. I finally take her back home to end the night. Once we arrive back at her apartment, I walk Hannah to her door.

  “I had a wonderful time, Luke. Thank you for taking me out. I had a lot of fun,” she tells me as me stand outside her door.

  “You’re welcome. You’re great company. Have a good night Hannah. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” I was just about to leave when Hannah stopped me.

  “Luke, wait. I just have one thing to ask you,” she says.

  “Sure, go ahead,” I say.

  “Tonight. Did you consider it to be a… date?” she questions.

  “I suppose… if neither of us has a problem with it… then maybe it could have been. What do you think?” I ask.

  “I like that idea,” she answers. “But if that’s so, aren’t you forgetting the proper way to end it?”

  I look at her as if I have no idea. “And what would that be?” I ask.

  She leans in and gives me a small kiss on the lips. She leans back out, followed by a brief gaze into each other’s eyes. “Goodnight Luke,” she says.

  “Goodnight.”

  She steps into her apartment, as I take my time turning around and walking back to my car. I can’t help but to have a smile plastered on my face. I believe there is a new relationship beginning to blossom. At the same time, I am afraid, no, terrified that another one must end.

  How will Karina react to what I have to say? Badly, I figure, but how badly? If she reacted the way she did when she thought I was cheating on her, I can only imagine how bad it will be when I tell her I want to date someone else. I can still be friends with Karina, can’t I? I can help her get back on her feet and be there for her.

  Right now, I feel like the worst human in the world, leaving my girlfriend for someone else. I even question whether or not I’m ready for another relationship at all. If my relationship with Karina ends like this, should I really go heading into another one right away? I’m trying to decide whether I want to go over Karina’s tonight like I said I would, or wait until tomorrow, so I have time to gather my thoughts. Oh, Karina, why did it have to be like this? It’s like someone or something doesn’t want me to be with her, making me see and hear things that never happen when I’m with Hannah.

  I get in my car and drive. I’ll decide what to do on the ride home.

  Chapter 19

  I drive up to the stoplight, my apartment only a few blocks away. I could just keep going straight, go home, and go to sleep. Or I could turn right and visit Karina. I should get it over with now. I don’t want to wait, only to toss and turn the entire night. Just go home. Just go home.

  My hands turn the steering wheel to the right, now Karina’s apartment building stands straight ahead. I get closer and closer, trying to get my speech organized. Her heart will break, no doubt, but I don’t know what else to do. What is another outcome? After tonight with Hannah, am I supposed to tell her goodbye and get back with Karina, knowing things may not ever be the same between us? Now if I choose Hannah, I might keep my sanity, but will lose one of the greatest women to ever enter my life. However long we have to talk tonight, we will come to a conclusion that will lift a burden, and all others to come, permanently from my shoulder.

  I’ve parked, and before I know it, I’m already at the front door. I should walk slower, no need to rush. I walk inside, where there is no one in the lobby, which I should expect with it being so late. I breathe out slowly and slowly breath in, so to calm my nerves. I need to see if Karina is doing alright, after attempting to kill herself today. I don’t even know if that’s what she was trying to do. Maybe it was a cry for help, something to do to get me running back to her. I saw the wounds with my own eyes. They weren’t that deep, but enough for sufficient blood to show, enough to scare me to death. If that’s indeed what she was trying to do, maybe it’s better for me to end things now. I can’t be with someone willing to take her own life just to get back at me. I just keep repeating to myself in my head, “What the hell was she thinking?” and I’d be frightened to find that my suspicion was true.

  But what about everything else? Like the room with music on the ninth floor? The banging around behind that closed door that sent me running for my life? And what about that man hanging by the neck in that room of this building? Could they all be nothing more than figments of my imagination, or is there some kind of haunting going on against me?

  I’m in the elevator going up to Karina’s floor while the light inside buzzes. The door opens, and I take my time stepping out, only moving at a snail’s pace to Karina’s door. I can feel my heart beating but not pounding. Still, I feel like it’s beating harder than it should, almost like I can hear it in my ears.