by Abe Moss
“Oh, god…”
“I’ll be out tonight, by the way,” Dolly told her, grinning as she crossed the apartment toward the sofa, where she took a seat. “In case you wanted to bring him home after your date…”
“That’s not a thing that’s happening,” Maria said.
“Eh, don’t be so sure.”
“I’m sure.”
“Sometimes it sneaks up on you.”
“I think that’s the last way I’d want it to happen.”
Dolly, remembering something, jumped up and hurried to her purse on the kitchen counter. She rummaged through it violently.
“I want you to take this,” she said, searching. “Aha.”
She pulled out a small pepper spray bottle.
“Really?” Maria asked.
“I’m sure you won’t need it, but… I’d rather you have it and not need it than—”
“Thanks,” Maria said, snatching it from her hand.
“Put it in your pocket, not your purse,” Dolly advised. “You never know…”
Maria stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans, and then patted her leg appropriately.
“I’m sure he’s a better guy than that, but I’m not about to let my friends take those risks!”
“I appreciate it, Dolly. Really.”
Just then there was a knock on the door. Dolly squealed and returned to the couch. Maria grimaced as she made her way to the door. Before opening it, she looked over her shoulder and mouthed to Dolly, ‘behave’.
Standing in the hall, jarringly pale in his black, knit sweater, Jessup held the flowers toward her without a word or greeting at all. Maria cocked her head back, the flowers close enough to her face she could smell them.
“Oh!” she said. “Why, thank you!”
“I know it’s corny,” Jessup said. “But I thought you’d like that about it…”
“I’m not sure how you figured that out,” Maria said, taking the flowers—they were purple, and beyond that she had no idea. “But I think you’re right, actually. Thank you.”
Dolly couldn’t help herself. She was up from the couch already, coming to the door to see the flowers for herself.
“Hi, Jessup,” she said flirtatiously. “Those are lovely! What are they?”
Jessup hesitated. “It’s an orchid of some kind. I forget the actual name. It was just… something pretty.”
“Just like our lovely Maria,” Dolly said. “Here, I’ll take care of those.”
She took the flowers from Maria and brought them to the kitchen sink, where she ran some water into the small pot.
“You ready to go?” Jessup asked.
“I am.” She looked around, trying to think if she was forgetting anything. She grabbed her purse from the table by the door.
“Have fun,” Dolly called after them, as they stepped out of the apartment and into an evening Maria wouldn’t soon forget.
✽ ✽ ✽
“Is everything okay?”
Maria looked up from her clicking chopsticks to see him, caught off guard by his question. The restaurant was warm and alive with chatter all around them, their table being the quietest of them all.
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“You just seem quiet.” His wide eyes probed hers thoughtfully, caringly, and she returned to staring at the deliciously salty meal on her plate, which she’d barely touched.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
She pondered a moment, wondering what kind of explanation she could give. There’d only been one thing on her mind most of the day. When she’d woken that morning, rather than feeling anxious about their date, as she expected, she’d been anxious about much different things entirely. Terrified. Hopeless. When Jessup had texted her earlier in the day to jokingly remind her of their date, she’d been grateful because she had, in fact, forgotten. She could think of little else besides the dream she’d had. The warning she’d been given…
“Is there something wrong?” Jessup asked. “Something on your mind?”
She considered telling him the truth. Well, sort of. She entertained the idea, how one might entertain an absurd fantasy. Daydreaming. What would happen if…
What would happen if I told him the truth, she wondered?
She entertained the thought because somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought there was a chance it wouldn’t matter. He might be shocked. He might be afraid of her. He might decide very quickly this date would be their last. Bullet dodged. And if that happened, it might possibly be for the best. Or it might not mean anything at all.
Because her days were numbered.
“Actually,” she said. “There is a lot on my mind…”
She only wished she knew how many days exactly.
“Oh?” He seemed genuinely interested. “You should tell me about it.”
Maria shook her head. “No, trust me, it’s… just a lot of nothing.”
Jessup put more food into his mouth as he watched her carefully. She had to hand it to him—he really knew his way around a pair of chopsticks. Despite her worries and the invasive thoughts commandeering her mind that evening, she found herself vaguely impressed by that.
“Well, you seem very preoccupied with a lot of nothing, then.” He laughed, meaning it to be lighthearted, but she could only feel guilty. This, too, he noticed. “Was tonight not a good night for this?”
“Tonight’s great.” She strained to form a genuine smile for him, felt her mouth quivering with the effort. “I’m sorry if I seem distracted. I’m really glad to be here. How was your day?”
Jessup was determined not to let the matter go so easily.
“I’m serious,” he said. “You should share it, whatever it is. I’ll listen. I’ve been told I’m pretty good at it…”
Out with it, she told herself. Out with it, and let him regret his ever asking.
She nodded, considering. Hesitating. Finally, she asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”
She watched as he paused with his chopsticks held by his mouth, and the food between them fell back onto his plate. Clearly not what he expected.
“Do you mean…” He paused. “Are you really asking?”
It was out. Or coming out. An excitement built up inside her, an amusement at getting to see how the rest of their date would play out now. No turning back. If all was lost, that only meant she had nothing to lose.
“Yes, I’m really asking.”
He spoke soberly. “I do.”
“Have you ever seen one?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed, suspicious of a hidden punchline. “No, but I’ve heard one before.”
Maria turned to see the restaurant surrounding them, at all the other couples, the families, enjoying their meals with pleasant, empty conversation, none of them the wiser to hers and Jessup’s soon-to-be train wreck of a date. She looked back to him, waiting cautiously for her response, if she had one.
“Have you?” he asked.
She stared long and meditatively into his eyes. It was like combat of the minds, as though neither of them thought the other was prepared for their answer.
“I have.”
“When?”
“You first,” she said, and Jessup smiled. “Tell me about the time you heard a ghost.”
“All right.” He took another quick bite of his food and chewed as he thought of how to start his tale, shifting in his seat. “First off, you should know my mom is a very spiritual person. Not religious or anything. Just spiritual.”
“Okay.”
“All growing up, she would always talk about how, you know… ‘oh, I talked with grandpa Rupert this morning, yada, yada, yada’ as if it were just a normal thing, talking to people who weren’t alive anymore. Grandpa Rupert died before I was born. It was normal to hear her say things like that, but it was something I kept to myself. Like, I would never tell my friends about my mom when I was a kid, right? They’d make fun of me if I did. And I knew my mom was weird for saying things like that, but
hearing it all the time, I just never thought much of it after a while.
“Except for this one time, when I was nine. I woke up in the middle of the night, and saw a light was on outside my door, in the living room. My mom was always up all hours, so that wasn’t anything interesting in and of itself. But I heard her talking to someone. And that wasn’t too weird, because it was normal for her to stay up for hours just talking on the phone. I don’t remember what for, but I remember I got out of bed and opened my door, and it was then I heard someone else’s voice. A man’s voice, but kind of high-pitched. I wondered who was over at our house so late, so I went down the hall toward the living room where they were talking… and I remember I peeked around the corner…and all I saw was my mom sitting in her old lazy-boy recliner all by herself. The sofa was empty. She wasn’t holding a telephone or anything. And I just stood there waiting, watching, listening for this other person to say something else, when suddenly my mom just feels me watching her and turns to see me standing there. She smiles and asks me if I need something. Just normal. I asked who she was talking to, and she says ‘oh, I’m just talking to Gene’. Gene was my uncle. Her brother. He died shortly after I was born, so I never knew him. Apparently—my mom later told me this—it was Gene who told her I was standing there watching around the corner, and that’s how she knew.”
Jessup paused there. He coyly smiled, embarrassed by having told the story, oblivious to the fact Maria was sitting across from him covered in goosebumps head to toe.
“Wow.”
“Weird, huh? How does it feel being on a date with a guy whose mom talks to the dead?”
He laughed, but Maria didn’t find it funny at all. If only he knew, she thought. And though it was an odd subject for a second date, she felt so… at ease all of a sudden.
“I love that story,” she said softly, taking a bite of her food.
“You’re finally eating,” Jessup said, drawing attention to how much more food she had on her plate than his. “I mean… I was starting to think you weren’t hungry, is all.”
“That’s the only time?” she asked. “That you heard something like that?”
“Oh, yeah. Just that one time.”
“That’s amazing…”
“But you said you’ve seen a ghost?” He set down his chopsticks, finished with his meal.
“Kind of…” she said. Even though it wasn’t kind of at all. “It’s…” She was enjoying herself too much at this point to ruin it, she thought. If her days were truly numbered, she liked the idea that someone would remember her this way—the way he might. “It’s really nothing.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t say that.”
“No, seriously.”
“Cop out,” he said. Then, a little louder, “Cooooop oouuuut…”
Maria looked around them, slightly mortified.
“I really enjoyed your story. I did. Please don’t make me tell mine. Not now…”
“You’re gonna leave me hanging like that?”
“I’ll tell you another time. I promise.”
Another lie.
He sighed. “Well, seeing as it’s only our second date… I guess I understand. I just feel a little, you know… exposed now, that’s all.”
She laughed. “I really liked your story. I did. I’ll tell you mine next time.”
He clasped his hands together on the table, leaned in with mischievous eyes.
“So you’re agreeing to a third date, then?”
Maria smiled. “Let’s finish this one first.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Maria decided she was open to bowling after dinner, after all. She wasn’t in a hurry to be alone anytime soon. Jessup couldn’t wait.
It was well into the evening as they arrived at the bowling alley and Jessup shut off the car’s engine. Night was upon them. The unseasonal chill of previous nights was returned, with no hint at letting up. Maria shivered as she stepped out of the car.
“I feel like it should be warmer already,” she remarked as Jessup climbed out.
He peered at her across the roof of his car, grinning like a dork. “What’d you say?”
“Nothing,” she said, smiling. She hugged herself as they walked side by side through the parking lot. “Looks like a slow night.”
“It does, doesn’t it,” Jessup agreed.
The bowling alley loomed ahead, its huge electric lettering lit up blue and neon above the doors. ‘FISH BOWL’ it was called. Quite the classy name, Maria thought.
Halfway to the doors, Jessup paused, craned his neck, spotting something, and pointed.
“You see that?” he said. Maria followed his index finger toward the strip mall just across the parking lot, four stores in all. “On the roof, above the salon.”
It only took a moment to see it. A funny feeling came over her as she did. A bit of déjà vu.
“What do you mean?” she asked at first, making sure they saw the same thing.
“A huge bird just landed on the roof. Looks like an owl, on the pipe sticking up there. You see it?”
She studied it warily. “I see it.” She turned to him, shivering. “Let’s get inside where it’s warm.”
✽ ✽ ✽
Jessup was a terrible bowler. Worse than Maria, and that was saying something. After the first few failed attempts, they both wordlessly agreed that it would be a night of mock-bowling and self-deprecation. It was just a game, after all, which they both just so happened to be entirely unskilled at…
“I still can’t get over how big your feet are,” Jessup said.
Based on his track record, Maria couldn’t decide if he was joking or not. Luckily, for his sake, he seemed to be.
“Or maybe you just have really tiny feet,” she retorted.
It was currently her turn. She grabbed her ball from the queue. Holding it up in both hands, she peered across the other lanes—twelve lanes in all, four of them in use counting their own. A slow night, indeed. They deliberately chose a lane away from the others. The loud noise of everyone else’s strikes was distracting otherwise.
“Don’t trip over your clown shoes,” Jessup said.
Maria scowled menacingly over her shoulder.
“You must have decided at some point within the last half hour that you really wanted out of that third date.”
Slow, cautious steps. A halfhearted, lazy throw. Instant gutter ball. She turned and shrugged.
“You know I’m only joking about your feet, right?”
She sat next to him, glancing playfully from the corner of her eyes. “You’d know if I thought you were serious.”
They shared a calm moment just watching the other, doing their best to read each other’s minds. The music changed tracks. Something Maria recognized. A rock song. She glanced at the speaker overhead, and it happened again. That feeling. As the familiar blanket of sound poured over her, she felt at ease once more.
“My dad loves this band,” she said.
Jessup perked up as well, listening. “I’m sure I’ve heard it before. Who is it?”
“Black Sabbath.”
Jessup nodded, though Maria could tell he wasn’t familiar. She could have told him the name of the song was “Paranoid” but kept that to herself. Instead they continued staring at one another, sharing the moment. His eyes seemed to settle into hers. At any moment she expected him to lean toward her, for his eyes to close dreamily, for his lips to part. She could see that he wanted to. He thought about it. Truthfully, so did she. Well… obviously.
“Do it,” she said.
His eyes widened, surprised, his lips already parted in hesitation. Maria leaned forward then, and both their eyes drifted dreamily to the other’s mouth as they shared a single, clean kiss. As she pulled away, they each broke into stupid grins.
“And on that note, I need to use the bathroom,” Maria said, standing.
“Take your time. I’m in no hurry to win.”
“Oh,” she said, starting toward the restrooms across the lobby. �
��We’ll see about that.”
She hurried through the lobby, gave a polite nod to the adolescent boy tending the front desk on her way, and pushed through the women’s restroom door. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. Strong bleach, which somehow still failed at covering up the smell of old urine. She stepped quickly into one of the four stalls and locked the door.
Before getting seated, she took her phone out from her pocket. She had one unread message. She read it while she relieved herself. It was from Dolly.
Hope your date is going well! Let me know if you need rescue!
Maria replied: Thanks, it’s going very well! She rolled her tongue along the back of her teeth, thinking. Still not bringing him home for the night, though. Sorry.
Just as she touched SEND, the bathroom door opened and a singular person entered. Maria listened as they took the stall next to hers. She watched her phone, waiting for a response, but there wasn’t one. Not right away, at least.
Her mind wandered as she observed the stall door before her, marked with various scratches and penmanship. Phone numbers, people’s names. There was even a drawing carved into the door—by someone’s car keys, it appeared—of a man giving another man fellatio, with the name ‘Austin’ painstakingly etched underneath. The woman who had carved that, Maria thought, had spent a great deal of time in the bathroom doing it…
“That your boyfriend out there?”
Maria turned to the wall, from where the voice had come—the woman in the next stall. Confused, she held her breath, listening for more on the off chance the woman spoke to someone else, possibly on the phone. She looked wonderingly to the floor, to the space she could see of the next stall, her invisible neighbor rustling in her clothes.
Then the woman’s foot suddenly appeared, tapping the floor. “I’m talking to you, sweetheart.”
“Oh, uh…” Maria’s mind blanked. “No.”
The woman snorted, a private joke of some kind. “Ah, that’s a shame. He’s handsome.”
Taking a long, silent breath, Maria decided she would let that be the end of it. To respond further might encourage the woman. Eager to flee as quickly as possible, she stood and buttoned up her jeans. She reached for the toilet’s handle.
