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by Cawdron, Peter

  Looking at her, he knew she had been out there for the better part of twelve hours. She must have moved, he thought. She couldn’t have stood there all day in the unrelenting sun. She had to have had something to eat, something to drink. She must have gone to the bathroom at some point, but if she had, he hadn’t noticed.

  Jason stared down the road, wondering who she was waiting for. Whoever it was, they were really late.

  Since traffic only went one way down the street and she was looking in the direction the traffic was traveling, he decided she must be waiting for someone on foot. He wondered if she would make a scene when they finally arrived. She must have been mad as hell standing there all day. That would make a good show, he thought, smiling to himself.

  Storm clouds started to gather over the city. The temperature began to drop, bringing some welcome relief from the heat.

  Jason grabbed some left over Chinese take out from his fridge and heated it in the microwave. He sat on the edge of his bed and ate as he watched the evening news, giving his mind a break from study. There were reports of a UFO sighting over Manhattan. Damn, he thought, it must have been a slow news day for that garbage to make it into the broadcast.

  Jason knew what was coming before the phone rang. Sure enough, the news shifted to sports and Mitchell called.

  “Did you see it?”

  “I saw it,” Jason admitted, knowing he’d regret the discussion that was coming.

  “I’m telling you, man. Aliens are real. UFOs are real. They’re buzzing Manhattan!”

  “UFOs are real,” Jason countered, accentuating the word ‘are,’ agreeing with Mitchell while not agreeing at all. “By definition, UFOs are unidentified. But just because something is unidentified doesn’t mean it’s a flying saucer from Mars with little green men.”

  Mitchell countered, saying, “Weather balloons, huh! You know, that’s getting a little old now.”

  Jason laughed. “Venus rising, experimental military aircraft, and shimmering stars viewed through swamp gas are far more plausible explanations than aliens. Think about it. If someone can traverse dozens of light-years to get to Earth, why would they hide? How is that intelligent? They are supposed to be intelligent, remember?”

  Mitchell took the bait. “Over fifty thousand Americans have experienced an abduction event.”

  Jason smiled, trying not to laugh as he added, “And all of them live on remote farms in West Virginia.”

  Rain began to fall outside, gently at first, but slowly building to a crescendo as the storm broke. Lightning crackled across the sky. The rumble of thunder drowned out the traffic.

  Mitchell laughed. “I’m telling ya, aliens are real. This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the Incheon incident when a UFO crashed off the coast of North Korea. Anniversaries are like magnets to these guys. They’ll be back, mark my words. They will be back.”

  Jason replied, saying, “Anniversaries are like magnets to those with tinfoil on their heads!”

  “You’ll see. One day, you’ll see I’m right.”

  “I doubt it,” Jason said, distracted as he wondered about the girl across the street. He got up from his bed and sat at the desk. She was still standing there in the rain, making no effort to shelter from the raging storm. The news switched to the weather forecast, distracting him. High nineties, low hundreds for the next five days, with evening storms. New York was going to be a sauna over the long weekend.

  “Catch yah tomorrow,” Mitchell replied, ending the call.

  A welcome breeze blew in through the open window. Jason found the sound of falling rain soothing, stunting the sounds and smells of the city, replacing them with a crisp scent of life and renewal. The temperature dropped considerably. Suddenly, the inside of his apartment was like the walk-in cooler at the liquor store.

  Looking out into the night, he could see her still standing there staring down the road. The street was empty. With most of the city clearing out for the holiday weekend, the neighborhood was unusually quiet.

  Jason stared at her for a few seconds. She glanced up at him and he was embarrassed. From her perspective, it must have looked like some creep was staring down at her from a window. In the darkness, she probably only saw a silhouette, but Jason still felt stupid, self-conscious. She was pretty. She probably had guys hitting on her all the time and hated the unwanted attention. She was probably staring at him thinking, “What the hell are you looking at, weirdo?”

  Jason wasn’t sure why, but he waved. In a way, he felt connected to her, as though they shared something in common having endured the unbearably hot day together. It was silly, and must have looked creepy, but he waved anyway, just wanting to be friendly. She waved back, but not enthusiastically. Just a slight shake of her wrist, never raising her hand above her waist.

  Jason turned away from the window and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but he felt chivalrous, as though she were some damsel in distress in need of rescue by a knight in shining armor. He grabbed an umbrella and headed out of his apartment and downstairs. Within minutes, he found himself standing in the rain with the umbrella limp by his side, telling himself he was crazy.

  Lightning rippled through the sky. Thunder broke around him. The heavens opened and rain fell in a torrential downpour. Water rushed through the streets, swirling in the gutters.

  Jason looked for traffic. The streets were empty. He ran diagonally across Columbus Ave, cutting across the intersection toward her. In the back of his mind, he hoped there were no cops around to bust him for jaywalking.

  She was smiling.

  Like him, she was dripping wet.

  He opened his umbrella and held it over her head, saying, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” she replied, pulling her wet, heavy hair away from the side of her face and behind her ear.

  “I’m Jason.”

  “Lily.”

  She offered him her hand. He shook it, noticing how limp her fingers were. She felt unusually cold.

  Lily was soaked. Her dark, black hair clung to the side of her neck. She was petite, wearing a plain white tank top and a short, floral skirt. A small purse hung over her shoulder, hanging by a thin strap.

  “Thank you,” she said, looking up at the umbrella.

  Standing there, it struck him that the umbrella was useless, or at least too late to be of any real use.

  “Ah,” he said, smiling and trying not to laugh at how ridiculous he felt. He hadn’t thought through what he was going to say to her beyond hello. Now that he’d said hello, his mouth went dry and he struggled, not knowing quite what to say next. Impulsively, he blurted out, “Would you like to come in out of the rain?”

  “I’m waiting for my father,” she said, ignoring his invitation. She pointed down the street. Jason looked down the street, following her gesture. There was no one there; no cars, no pedestrians, no buses.

  “You’ve been waiting a long time,” he replied. “Would you like to come inside, dry off and warm up? I mean, I’m a nice guy. I’m not trying to hit on you or anything. I’m not some weirdo, honest. I just thought you might–“

  “Sure,” she said, cutting him off and sparing him further embarrassment. Lily wasn’t wearing any makeup. Even so, her face radiated warmth. Despite the rain, her high set cheeks were rosy. Her teeth were pearly white and perfectly straight, at least they seemed to be at the glance he had when she smiled. Although she was soaking wet, Jason thought she looked beautiful.

  They started walking across the street, with Jason trying to keep the umbrella over her. Lily laughed and he got the hint, dropping the umbrella to his side and surrendering to the rain.

  “Rain is good,” she said. “Rain brings life.”

  Jason was fascinated by her. There was a simple elegance to Lily, an understated beauty that seemed more than skin deep.

  “Rain is fun,” Jason decided, jumping in a puddle. Water splashed up her legs. She laughed, jumping in the next puddle and splashing him back.

&nb
sp; “Yes, it is,” she said, and they hopped and skipped through the puddles, splashing each other playfully as they made their way to his building.

  Jason shook himself off in the entranceway of the building as Lily wrung her hair out, still laughing with him as she let her hair drip on the mat. He led her upstairs with giddy excitement. He wasn't sure why, but he felt comfortable with her already. They'd barely spoken a dozen words between them, but Jason felt as though he could be himself in front of her, as though there was no need to try to impress her. He felt as though she accepted him for who he was. Although she was a complete stranger, Jason felt like he'd finally caught up with a long lost friend.

  As he opened the door to his apartment he was horrified to see his unmade double bed immediately in front of him. A half-eaten box of Chinese take out sat on the messy sheets. Clothes were strewn across the floor. Lily didn’t seem to notice. She raised her eyes, as though she were surveying art work in a gallery. She was looking at the posters and pictures covering his walls. There were several striking images of Mars from the HiRISE camera on NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, along with an image taken by COBE: a map of the cosmic background radiation that still saturated the universe as the afterglow of the Big Bang. A tattered poster of the Andromeda galaxy hung next to the kitchen, while the wispy filaments of the Sloan Digital Sky Survey, mapping the location of millions of galaxies in deep space, was proudly displayed next to his desk.

  Jason kicked some of the clothes to one side.

  Lily squeezed around the bed, moving to the only open area within the cramped apartment, a section of worn linoleum between the desk and the kitchenette.

  “I’m ... I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” Jason spluttered. “I don’t normally have people over.”

  “No. It’s wonderful,” she said, gesturing at the walls. “I love looking at scenes from outer space.”

  Scenes, he thought curiously, that was an unusual way of describing posters. Scenes implied stories, actions, events. He liked that. Scenes were a better description of these images, given the timespan captured by each of the posters and the stories they told.

  “Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?” he said.

  “Yes,” she replied, smiling. “In each of these scenes, you see beyond the confines of this small planet.”

  In the bright light of his apartment it was apparent Lily wasn’t wearing a bra under her t-shirt. Jason wasn’t sure if he blushed, but he suddenly realized he was staring at her wet t-shirt while she gazed at the posters. The thin white cotton was all but transparent when wet, clinging to her body and accentuating her curves.

  “I’ll get you a towel to dry off,” he said, his eyes dropping to the floor as he turned and grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

  Lily shivered as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders. She sat down on a small loveseat jammed between his desk and the kitchenette, sitting sideways so she could stare out the window at the intersection as they talked. Jason sat on the bed, hurriedly straightening the covers.

  “So, where are you from?”

  “Korea,” she replied.

  “Really? My parents are from Incheon, just west of Seoul.”

  He wasn’t sure, but she seemed to blush as she replied, “I am from a small fishing village south of Sunwi-do.”

  Jason hadn’t heard of Sunwi-do. He had only been to South Korea once to visit his grandparents, and only for a week. His recollection was of jet lag, thousands of people bustling along the sidewalks, and an astonishing assortment of neon lights and signs that put Times Square to shame. Seoul was the New York City of the East, a dazzling city that never slept.

  “What’s your dad’s name?” he asked, picking up his phone and opening a browser to search for her father's contact details. “I can look him up and we can give him a call. Let him know you’re OK.”

  “Lee.”

  “Is that his first name or his last name?”

  “His name is Lee,” Lily insisted.

  “OK,” Jason said, a little confused. “Do you have an address?”

  “Columbus and West 67th.”

  “Ah ... that’s where we are,” Jason replied. “Do you have an address for Lee?”

  Lily started to speak, but he cut her off, saying, “Columbus and West 67th, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, he thought, this isn’t quite what I expected.

  “How long have you been in America?” he asked, shifting on the bed. Somehow, her uncertainty made him feel a little more at ease. He relaxed.

  “I arrived this morning,” Lily said, still shivering a little. Her words were stilted. She was a FOB: Fresh Off the Boat, as Jason's Korean-American friends would say, but he'd never say that to her. Although her English was good, her words were heavily accented, with a distinctly Korean feel to the consonants.

  Jason stood up. He looked past Lily at the intersection. The street was empty.

  “Listen,” he said, opening a drawer and pulling out some clothes. “Why don’t you go and have a shower? You’ll feel better if you warm up a bit.”

  He handed her a shirt and a pair of shorts, adding, “I’ll keep watching for Lee.”

  In reality, he had no idea who he was watching for and would have felt pretty stupid calling out to a stranger down on the street, but he resolved to do it nonetheless. This wouldn't be the first time he'd made a fool out of himself over a girl.

  Lily bowed slightly, thanking him as she took the clothes. She left her purse hanging on the back of the chair and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Within seconds, the sound of the shower competed with the rain. Steam wisped out around the gaps in the door jamb. The landlord was supposed to have reframed the door a month ago, but he’d forgotten and Jason kept forgetting to hound him about it.

  Jason didn’t know what to do with himself. No one was coming down the road, that much was obvious. If Lee had failed to show after eight hours, the likelihood of him showing in the next few minutes was negligible.

  He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, wondering what he should do next. Staring at her purse, curiosity got the better of him. She had to have a passport or a driver’s license. Perhaps if he knew her last name he could track down her father. Jason felt guilty, but he told himself a quick peek was justified. He was trying to help her. He opened her purse and was surprised to find it empty. There was no money, no credit cards, none of the normal junk that accumulates in a bag, not even scraps of lint. The purse looked brand new.

  The shower had stopped but he hadn’t noticed. He was too busy looking to see if there were any compartments inside the purse he might have missed. He felt the lining, looking for a zipper, wondering if there were any hidden sections. Even with his limited knowledge of woman's fashion accessories, the purse seemed basic, no pockets or dividers, just a simple bag.

  Jason heard the door handle turn behind him and his heart sank. He scrambled to put Lily's purse back, turning rapidly and looking as guilty as sin when Lily stepped back into the apartment.

  Lily looked stunning. With her hair carefully combed and slicked back, a smile on her face and bright, intelligent eyes, she looked like she’d stepped from the covers of a glamor magazine. The t-shirt he’d given her was baggy on her small frame, but she’d rolled up the sleeves so they rested on her shoulders. Standing in front of him, she tied a knot in the front of the shirt, pulling it tight and exposing her hips, accentuating her figure. Even the shorts looked good on her. Lily's long, smooth, thin legs looked as though they had been sculpted from rose colored marble. Jason could have stood there staring at her all night. He wasn’t sure what he expected when she came out of the shower, but he hadn’t expected her to look so beautiful in his clothes.

  “Are you hungry?” he said, more to distract himself than to offer her something to eat. There wasn’t much in the fridge, and only some breakfast cereal and ramen noodles in the cupboard — they were hardly a meal at the best of times.

  “No. I’m fine
,” Lily replied, and he wasn’t sure if she was just being polite.

  “Coffee?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  Jason turned his back on her and put the kettle on. All he had was instant coffee—a shot in the arm for a student in desperate need of a quick fix. He liked fancy coffee as much as the next person, but as foul as instant coffee was, it worked miracles when pulling an all-nighter studying. At times like that, quantity took precedence over quality. He opened a packet of plain crackers, silently berating himself for being such a tight ass and not splurging on Oreos.

  “Milk and sugar?” he asked as the kettle came to a boil.

  “Just black,” Lily replied.

  As he poured the coffee into two cups he noticed her staring at the posters again.

  “Tell me about them,” she asked.

  And that was all he needed. Jason turned on the lava lamp sitting on his desk as he handed her a cup of coffee. He grabbed his cup and turned off the main light. His apartment was a poor substitute for an astronomical observatory, but he could dream. The red light from the lava lamp set the mood, allowing his imagination to carry him across the universe as he gazed at each picture. To him, it was as though he was recalling a summer vacation from photographs.

  Lily stood. A distant street light behind her cast a faint shadow on the wall, making her thin, lanky body look even more extended. As he looked at her shadow, Jason realized that Mitchell would have pointed out that the shadow she cast was a close match to the grays, mythical aliens that had supposedly been visiting the Earth since the Roswell Incident. Jason shook any such notion from his mind, scolding himself for even thinking anything remotely similar to Mitchell and his wacky conspiracy theories.

  The way Lily stood there silently looking at his tatty posters was reminiscent of someone in an art gallery staring at one of the great masterpieces, being mesmerized by Gauguin or Monet.

  His mind raced with the possibilities. Was she really that interested in his geeky posters? Or was she just being polite? Where should he start?