Kendra turned down my offer of help. While she rolled her bags into the bedroom, I went to the kitchen and emptied the pockets of my cargo pants, taking inventory of the day’s piracy. The spoon and cup from the diner went into the sink. Another pocket held a bungee cord I’d found on the street, and two refrigerator magnets. One for a restaurant, the other for a plumber. Shit in, shit out. I slapped them on the refrigerator and dug in the next pocket. Two pens, a small spiral tablet that I kept to make notes of my boss’s instructions about the places I cleaned, and in the bottom, two condoms. With a sigh, I dropped those on the counter and reached inside another pocket, where I found what I was looking for: a bag of green tea that I took from the loft I’d cleaned that morning.
I didn’t normally steal from I Dream of Cleanie’s clients, but who’d miss a single tea bag? Green tea was supposed to be healthy. I’d done my bit for good karma by wiping down the inside of the client’s refrigerator, which wasn’t on my list of duties.
I turned on the burner under the kettle and glanced at Kendra as she walked in. She homed right in on the condoms and raised her eyebrows. That distracted me for a second. I’d never noticed that her eyebrows were black, which made me wonder if she was a real blonde. I checked out her roots, thinking about my friend Davii, a genius with hair color who often provided commentary on the hair don’ts of people around us. I figured Kendra’s hair color must be real, because even with two jobs, she seemed as broke as I was. She couldn’t afford someone like Davii to make her look naturally blond.
“Is there something in my hair?” she asked, nervously running her fingers through it as if she might find a roach.
“No. Sorry I was staring,” I said.
“Are you having those with your tea?” she asked, pointing at the condoms.
I slipped them back in my pants pocket and said, “I don’t know where they came from. I guess one of my tormentors.” She cocked her head. “My uncle and his friends,” I explained. “My friend Blythe calls them my gay mentors. I call them my tormentors.”
“Like bondage or something?” Kendra asked, her blue eyes huge.
“Ew. No. Uncle Blaine, his boyfriend, their housekeeper, all their friends. They’re always giving me advice and warnings about the dangers of living in a big city. How to avoid being bashed, mugged, or otherwise assaulted. How to have safe sex. I’m sure one of them dropped those in my pants when I was at my uncle’s.”
“It’s sweet that they look out for you,” Kendra said warmly, as if I’d restored her faith in humanity.
I was still staring impatiently at the kettle when Kendra’s friend Morgan showed up. I stayed in the kitchen while Kendra let her in. I tried to ignore the furious whispers that indicated that Morgan, too, might be finding the place less than luxurious. Then her voice went from whisper to bitch in ten seconds as she condemned her last landlord to eternal damnation and declared that her moving men were know-nothing pigs.
My anxiety about Morgan’s desirability as a roommate boiled a lot faster than the kettle of water when she stepped into the kitchen and I saw two snakes wrapped around her arms.
“Uh…” I said, trying not to back away.
Morgan was short and dumpy. Her uneven hair was black—definitely an unprofessional dye job—and her skin was pale and doughy. Her eyes were like little black currants set deep in her face, and their expression was hard and challenging, as if the snakes were some kind of initiation I had to pass.
“Lucifer,” she said, holding up one arm to better display a yellowish snake. It eyed me with a look that made me remember a fifth grade teacher who’d been pure evil. “Hugsie,” she added, pointing a black snake at me. That one began to writhe as the kettle shrieked at us.
I was grateful to have a reason to turn away and said over my shoulder, “Nick Dunhill. I guess you’re Morgan.”
“Brilliant. If you ever enter my room without my permission, you can kiss your ass good-bye. Which will be easy, because I’ll make sure your head’s stuffed up your ass, just like every other man in Manhattan.”
“I’m pretty sure not every man in Manhattan has been stuffed up my ass,” I said, turning around and locking my eyes on hers. It almost seemed like she was going to smile, in that Wednesday Addams if-I-smile-I’ll-die way. Then she left the kitchen as abruptly as she’d entered, snake bodies trailing behind her like feather boas. Maybe they were actual boas. I had no idea.
When Kendra came back in, looking a little fearful, I hissed, “What did you say she does?”
“She works for an animated children’s program,” Kendra whispered hesitantly, as if she knew the probability of that was highly questionable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the snakes.”
“You’re the one who has to sleep with them,” I said, adding with sadistic satisfaction, “behind a closed door.”
Roberto finally showed up with the clothes on his back, two milk crates full of CDs, and furniture he’d found on the street: a futon, a tiny café table, and two rickety wooden dining chairs. I tried to cover up how lousy I felt when I helped him haul his loot into the apartment. Not that he was paying attention. He answered three calls on his cell phone while we trudged up and down stairs. If it were anyone but Roberto, I’d think he was dealing drugs. But I could tell from his side of the conversations that he was fielding calls from one or more of his brothers. He had four.
I knew Roberto from high school. Although he grew up in the Bronx, we had a few things in common. Mostly our exasperated families. Roberto’s mother had hoped that art school would put his skills with spray paint and walls to good use. Even though he pretended he had no interest in school and was just biding time until graduation, Roberto was extremely talented. Our teachers often compared him to Jean Michel Basquiat. Without the heroin habit.
“I’m sorry we’re stuck in the dining room,” I said. “The girls claimed the bedroom. I get the idea they think the apartment sucks overall.”
“This is a room? I thought it was a broom closet,” Roberto said. “The futon takes up half the room.”
I opened a small door and said, “No. This is the broom closet.”
He laughed and said, “I’m just teasin’, Nickito!”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? What matters is, we have our own place, yo!” He high-fived me, then saw Kendra standing in our doorway. “It’s got a good view, too.”
“I just wanted to give you my share of the deposit, Nick.” She took a tentative step into the room and handed me a check. “You know, while I’ve got it? Before I accidentally spend it on something silly, like food.”
“Or the power bill,” I said.
She sighed and asked, “How much was it to get the lights turned on?”
“They’re billing us. It won’t come for another month.”
“Not me,” Roberto said. “I could pop at any time.”
I couldn’t tell if Kendra was grossed out or trying to figure out what Roberto meant. I introduced them. When she left and I heard the bedroom door close, I turned to Roberto and said, “Roommates are off-limits.”
“We got two honeys in our house and you’re telling me I can’t—”
He was cut off when Morgan knocked loudly on our door frame and said, “Hey, you.”
“Nick,” I reminded her, then sneezed twice. “Sorry. I don’t know if it’s a cold or—”
“Listen, just because we’re sharing this glorified shoe box doesn’t mean I want to hear your life story, okay? Kendra told me she gave you her share of the rent and deposit. I don’t want you thinking I’m some freeloader, so here.” She slapped a check on top of my duffel bag. Before she left, she said, “You should get a door or hang up a sheet in this doorway. I don’t want to walk by and accidentally see your man-bits or anything.”
I stood and breathed through my mouth. Roberto was silent next to me. I wasn’t sure what he was contemplating. Probably that one of the “honeys” wasn’t such a catch after all. The miracle would be i
f he tried to catch her and didn’t get his ass kicked. As tough as Roberto might be, I’d put my money on Morgan. If I had money.
While I put both girls’ checks in my wallet, I sneezed three more times and remembered my cup of tea. It was stone cold, but I drank it in the kitchen while Roberto made a couple more phone calls. Then I went back into our room, trying to summon up enthusiasm for unpacking.
“Let’s get out of here,” Roberto said abruptly, picking up my hoodie and tossing it to me. I slipped into it, understanding his need to leave. Four people sharing the rent was an appealing idea. Four people inhabiting the same small space at the same time was less so. Plus Morgan’s movers were due any minute. Something told me that would entail a lot of drama.
I considered my scratchy throat and said, “Let me get a heavier jacket.”
It had finally stopped raining, but the air was still cold and damp. While we walked, Roberto entertained me with a perfect imitation of Morgan. When I realized where we were heading, I wiped my nose with alternating sleeves of my jacket and asked, “What’s up? Where are we going?”
“Listen to you, all suspicious. It stopped raining, so I thought we’d get out and—”
“No,” I interrupted. “I meant, why are we going to the subway?”
Roberto looked like he was about to deny my accusation, but stopped when he saw me staring at the subway entrance at the end of the block. We could see people descending and ascending the stairs beneath the sign for the 6 train. He glared at me and said, “Suck it up. You can’t ride the bus forever, and taxis are expensive. We’ll be fine. Trust me.”
“Manipulative asswipe. You had to bring trust into this, didn’t you?”
“You know I think of you like a brother. For you to doubt me, to think I’d willingly put you in harm’s way, is like a slap in the face. A knife in my heart. A snake’s fangs in my—”
“Enough! Fine. I’ll do it.”
We fought our way into the subway against people elbowing their way out. I slumped in a seat still warm from the behind of its previous occupant. I did everything I could to distract myself, so my mind wouldn’t think about what could be happening above while we were trapped below. I tried counting the dingy white tiles of the station wall outside, but the train lurched forward and thwarted my plan. I counted sneakers. There were twenty-four; twelve pairs. Then I worried all that counting was a sign I had OCD, so I stared at Roberto and tried to send him a telepathic message: I hate you for making me do this. He stood in front of me, obliviously holding on to the bar overhead while staring at some girl’s ass. I started counting asses.
When we exited at Sixty-eighth Street, I had to cover my ears because of the noise. Across the street from the subway entrance, behind a tall blue construction fence, a building was being torn down. As part of a brick wall crashed down, I glared at Roberto, who stared straight ahead and pretended nothing was happening. I followed him, wanting to get away from the noise and destruction. Since he seemed to have a plan and I had nowhere to be, I stayed silent until he stopped at the zoo and reached into his pocket to pay.
“You don’t have to do that,” I croaked.
Roberto looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Forget it, man.”
We walked in silence, avoiding the sea lions in the Central Garden. I wasn’t sure if the sparse crowd was because it was nearly closing time or because of the weather. I hadn’t spent much time there. Or in any zoo, for that matter. It was small. Intimate. It might have been a nice date if I wasn’t walking toward death’s door with Roberto.
“Here we are,” Roberto announced.
I looked around. “The North Pole?”
Roberto ignored me to stare at a polar bear, who took little notice of our arrival. The bear undoubtedly loved winter in New York. I wondered what he did during the summer. Probably spent most of it swimming. Maybe he had a time-share in Greenland.
“What up, iceberg?” Roberto greeted the bear. “What’s the fizz, fuzzy?”
“You and the bear are close?” I asked.
“He’s not bad for a white dude. I come here a lot when I need to think. Or be alone, you know?”
“You usually have the zoo to yourself?”
“You usually such a smartass?”
“Sorry. It’s the cold medication talking.”
“No, I don’t usually have the place to myself. But even when it’s crowded, I can tune it all out. Make everybody invisible, like they don’t exist.”
“Do you always come to see the bear?”
“Yeah. No. I mean, yeah, I always come to see him, but not always just him. I like to spend time with the sea lions, too. But that’s about it. Sometimes I check out other stuff, but mostly just those two, you know? There’s other bears, too. Somewhere.”
“Interesting.” I rubbed my forehead.
“You feel that bad?”
I thought about Morgan and her two snakes back in our apartment. “No. I’m cool.”
“Good. I haven’t been here for a while. I’ve been saving up for this apartment thing, so I had to wait until I could spare the coins.”
I reached into my pocket to see if the condoms had miraculously turned into money. No luck. “Hey,” I said, “as long as you’re in a spending mood, why don’t you buy me a cup of coffee? I’ll stay here and keep your bear company.”
“Sure.”
Roberto headed off. I leaned on the railing and watched the bear, who was playing with a plastic barrel. He seemed to be having the time of his life. I wondered what Roberto thought about when he came here. I wondered if he wanted me to ask him. Maybe that was why he’d brought me here in the first place.
The barrel flew from the bear’s gigantic paws and into the water. Without hesitation, he got up, did a belly flop on top of the barrel, then held it in his paws while paddling around his personal swimming pool.
“Nice job, if you can get it,” I mumbled.
“His name is Gus,” a voice said.
“Huh?”
“The bear. His name is Gus.”
I looked at the man who stood next to me, but not too close. Not bad. Not really my type—a little too neat around the edges. But cute. Maybe in his late twenties.
“I’m Mark.”
“Nick.”
We shook hands. I sniffed and wiped my nose on the sleeve of my jacket before I could stop myself.
“Got that cold that’s going around, huh?” Mark asked. It beat Nice weather we’re having, huh? Plus it was more accurate.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Mark looked back at the bear and said, “They’re becoming extinct, you know. Because we’re fucking up the climate and their habitat.”
“Figures,” I muttered, staring at the doomed bear. “Nothing lasts.”
Before Mark could answer, I heard Roberto say, “Here’s your coffee. Hot and black, just the way you like your—”
“Roberto, this is Mark,” I said. “Mark, Roberto.”
“—bears,” Roberto finished. The two of them exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher. Maybe Mark thought Roberto was my boyfriend. Maybe Roberto was assessing whether he should get lost and leave me with Mark.
“Roberto’s my roommate. One of them,” I said. Then I sneezed four times in rapid succession, sloshing coffee all over the place.
Mark smiled—he had great teeth—and said, “You really should do something about that.”
“It’s just a stupid cold,” I said.
Except I was starting to wonder, because what happened next made me think I might be hallucinating. Roberto and Mark closed in on me a little, so that when they started walking away from the bear exhibit, it was automatic for me to fall in step between them. It was only when we left the park and Mark hailed a cab that my senses returned.
“Are we going somewhere?” I asked.
“We are,” Mark said.
“All three of us?”
Whatever expression I wore made Roberto say, “It’s chill.”
It was the last t
hing any of us said until we were in the back of a cab and Mark gave the driver an address. I considered the ache in my muscles and the wooziness of my thought processes. It didn’t seem like a good time for my first three-way, even if I did have two condoms in my pocket.
I closed my eyes and let my head fall on Roberto’s shoulder, indifferent to a din of mental voices that sounded suspiciously like my uncle and his friends. Wherever we were going, it couldn’t be for anything too sinister if Roberto was part of it.
An hour later, I was putting my clothes back on and Mark was dropping latex in the trash. Latex gloves.
“If Roberto wanted to pay for a doctor, he could have just told me,” I grumbled, gingerly sliding into my pants because of the penicillin injection Mark had given me.
“He’s not paying. It’s a free clinic. We avoided the red tape and saved you hours in the waiting room. Just thank him for calling me before that sinus infection and tonsillitis got worse. Since it’s bacterial, I’ll prescribe an antibiotic. Take the full dose as ordered until the pills are gone. Do you have a job?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll write you an excuse from work while you’re contagious.”
I wished he could write me an excuse from Morgan while I was contagious. At least now that I had her check.
“It’s useful to have a roommate who knows a doctor,” I said. My grandmother the hypochondriac would have been thrilled that I’d met a doctor, if only the doctor wasn’t sporting a penis. Following up on that thought, I added, “It’s been a memorable first date, anyway.” Mark’s grin encouraged me. “Will there be a second? Or do I have to be stricken with another disease to see you?”
He slid the prescription into my shirt pocket, patted it in place, and said, “If you happen to take my phone number from the prescription and call me sometime, we can talk about a second date then.” My face must have shown that I didn’t really believe him, because as he nudged me out the door, he said, “You should rent the movie Casablanca.”
“Huh?” I asked, wondering again if I was delirious.
“You said nothing lasts,” Mark said. “Listen to the song in Casablanca.”
When You Don't See Me Page 2
