by Ziv Amit
The Latin Quarter, Morning Time Café
Kate
The café window is making it difficult for me to look inside, even though I’m trying really hard. Two cups of coffee or tea, one plate of pastries, one photographer sitting with his back to me, one Beauty sitting in front of him and talking, one me standing outside the café not knowing what to do. It seems silly of me to go inside and join them, I definitely don’t belong and I definitely had an opportunity and missed it, I also definitely want to sit with them. I’m looking for an excuse or a good icebreaker and I can’t come up with anything, so I remain outside, standing and staring at them through the window. Trying to pluck up the courage to go inside, or to give up and leave, whichever comes first.
“I knew you’d make it, I was waiting for you,” The Beauty grabs my hand and pulls me after her into the warm café, having lifted her head and noticed me standing outside, she literally leaped out of her seat to take me in from the cold outdoors.
“I told you she would come,” she presents me to the photographer as if I were a freshly discovered treasure, he smiles at me and politely stands up as The Beauty seats me next to her.
“I’m sorry, I got lost, I couldn’t find the bridge,” I try to explain.
“You’re completely frozen,” The Beauty holds my cold hand and ignores my apology, while the photographer waves for the waiter to come over.
“What would you like to order?” he asks me, taking on the role of the host.
A few moments later and I’m sipping hot coffee while enveloped by The Beauty’s attention as she feels sorry for me, “poor dear, having to wander the streets by yourself like that.” She comforts me with words, and the photographer gives me his usual warm and polite smile.
“It wasn’t that bad,” I answer her, “I got another tourist experience out of it, getting lost in a strange city, and besides, here we are, I found you,” I try to smile and sip my coffee simultaneously.
“I’m such an idiot for not having given you my phone number,” The Beauty takes responsibility and ownership, “where’s your phone?” I take my silent smartphone out of my bag, hand it over to her and she quickly types in her number, “that’s me,” she returns the phone to me with a smile, “now you have me.”
We stay silent, each one sipping their own drink, I think The Beauty is looking for my company and wants to hug me, while the photographer seems a little bit distant, though I think he’s interested in photographing me and maybe even adding me to his long list of conquests. “Maybe when he saw I hadn’t arrived at the photoshoot, he decided that I didn’t have the potential for sex and so it would be a shame to give me any attention,” I think to myself silently while pressing the cup of coffee to my lips.
“How did the photoshoot go?” I try to strike up a conversation, the silence is bothering me, though I think The Beauty is enjoying my presence even while I’m silent.
“It was fabulous, we got really sexy photos,” The Beauty gets excited.
“We shot on the riverbank, he wanted to catch the sunrise in the sky with the lamps from the bridge,” The Beauty takes ownership of the photoshoot while the photographer just gives his usual smile, I think he’s surveying us from the side with some sort of feeling of ownership, as though he knows that if he were just to say the word, we’d both belong to him, so he’d only need to decide whether he’s interested or not.
“It was really cold by the bridge for changing clothes,” The Beauty continues her story, “but I wore a long dress with a slit and he hugged me really tight and that’s how we did the photoshoot, it came out fabulous.”
I’ll admit I’m a little bit jealous of her, despite all my declarations of having no intention to be photographed. I know I’m supposed to be thinking of The Tall One sleeping endlessly at the hotel, but right now I’m just jealous of her, I’d like to be photographed like that with my body and my breasts tightly held by a sexy dress, despite the cold, it must be warming.
“It really does sound fabulous, it’s a shame I wasn’t there,” I say with sadness.
“A real shame,” The Beauty agrees with me as her hand rests on my hand, “we could have been shot together.” This idea is a little bit new to me and I haven’t yet made up my mind about it, so I smile at her and remain silent.
“The main thing is that you got good shots, even if I didn’t get to see them.”
“After this we’ll be going to our apartment, to get organized and rest after the early morning start, you’re welcome to join us and we can show you the photos we took,” the photographer joins the conversation and I wonder precisely what he means by this invitation.
They exchange a few sentences which I can’t understand and I try to decipher The Beauty’s tone in order to understand her thoughts on the invitation, I’m also deliberating with myself about how I feel with the invitation, I’m unsure of both.
“Yes, come, we’d love that,” The Beauty turns to me and places her hand on my thigh.
I look at them and debate with myself, their company is pleasant and interesting, though they seem like a strange couple with an unclear relationship. They have something open and enticing about them, and I really need some of that to compensate for this ruined vacation, don’t I know it. On the other hand, it doesn’t feel right for me to go to their apartment with them, I think that things might happen there which I’ll regret in the future. There’s also the issue of The Tall One who is currently asleep at the hotel, what do we even still have between us? I’m facing a dilemma.
I think to myself for a little while longer and then tell them, “I’m sorry, I have to go to the museum today, I haven’t been there yet.” You’re such a chicken.
We sip our drinks silently, The Beauty’s hand still gently resting on my thigh, and I’m unclear as to whether they’re pleased with my response or not. It seems that either way, out of sheer politeness, they’re not trying to convince me to change my mind. I’m a little bit sad about it, but I feel that I made the right decision.
They exchange a few more sentences which I can’t understand and the photographer turns to me, “maybe you can come over for a photoshoot some other time.”
“My vacation is ending soon,” I answer them gloomily, they really are nice and I don’t want to spend the remainder of my days here wandering the streets by myself. I’m not getting a lot of potential for mutual enjoyment during this vacation with the one who’s asleep at the hotel, I wonder when he’ll stop sleeping.
“That’s a shame, you could get amazing photos, even though you’d probably get embarrassed,” the photographer lays out a new net for me while looking into my eyes, and I kind of want to get tangled in it but I don’t really have a way to, having already refused their offer, so I keep quiet and smile embarrassedly at his stares.
“Perhaps you’d like to join us this evening?”
“For a photoshoot?” I ask with a mixture of fear and hope.
“No,” the photographer answers with a smile, “this evening we’re going around town to shop for a few things and have a good time, we’d love you to join us.” I feel The Beauty’s hand lightly squeezing my thigh and I try to understand if she’s hinting at something, join them? Pass on it? I look at her, hoping to get an answer.
“Come on, come with us,” she looks at me with a hopeful smile, “you’ll have fun, we’ll show you the interesting parts of town, the sort of places that tourists don’t get to see.” I don’t really stop to think about where it is they plan on taking me, her offer seems sincere and I like her. It also seems like a much more attractive and enticing option than walking around on my own.
We part company outside the café, a handshake and a black-eyed smile from the photographer, a hug and a whisper from The Beauty, “please come, call me later and we’ll arrange it all.”
The street is fully awake, flooded by the morning sounds of cars swishing past on the stone-paved
roads and the commotion of people rushing to work. The couple turn towards one direction and I turn to the other, tired and smiling, as I start my search for the way back to the hotel.
Hotel, Room 314
Adam
I think it’s already morning, a sliver of daytime light is penetrating through the curtains. I reach out to my watch on the bedside table and look at it, it’s really late, I slept a lot. What’s the weather like outside? You can never tell with these curtains.
I slowly wake up, trying to organize my thoughts, remembering last night. The Little One coming back, the smell of cigarettes, a shower, lying in bed without the courage to talk to her, trying to fall asleep and not managing it, promising myself that I’d apologize to her this morning.
“Maybe I should wait a little bit more with the apology?” I think for a moment, “you’re not waiting any longer,” I answer myself, “she’ll end up leaving you, she’ll up and leave, she’ll up and leave and she won’t come back the way she did that time.”
“What am I even going to tell her?” I sit up in bed, looking for The Little One’s sleeping silhouette next to me. I have a feeling I’m in bed alone, “where’s the light switch?” I turn the bedside lamp on, I’m alone, she’s gone.
“Where did Kate go? Did she leave me?” Within a second I can feel my heart pounding wildly, “Did she leave me again? How did I not hear her? She left me without saying anything?” I quickly get out of bed, draw the curtains open and look around, even in the light of day the room is lacking my Little One, there’s only me, standing naked in the center of it.
“Where could she have gone? Where’s her suitcase? How did I not wake up when she left?” I quickly check the room, I don’t bother getting dressed, I look for her stuff, anything of hers, a sign that I haven’t been abandoned yet again, I hesitantly open the closet door, her suitcase is here, at the bottom of the closet, she hasn’t left me yet. I sit on her side of the bed, naked, resting from the pounding of my heart, trying to calm down.
What do I do now? And where the hell is she?
She doesn’t want to see me anymore, she woke up in the morning and left.
“Maybe I can set the watch back to a couple of days ago?” Great idea, that’ll definitely work. While you’re at it you can ask her to wear that hot outfit again too, she’ll definitely agree.
I want to keep sitting on the bed like this, naked, not do anything for yet another day, I’m not sure I can handle myself right now.
Maybe a few moments pass, maybe longer, I have no idea, but eventually I manage to get my act together and I get up and go to shower, I have to do something.
“So what? So she left, so she came back, so what? You’d think she’s the first woman to ever leave you, you should thank your lucky stars that she came back, she’s the first woman who wanted to come back. She’s also your wife, in case you’ve forgotten,” I talk to myself while looking in the bathroom mirror.
“I’ve ruined everything.” That’s right, you’ve ruined everything, now go fix it.
Maybe she’s in the dining room?
Come on, get dressed already, don’t miss her, don’t start getting held up by all the news websites on your smartphone, she’ll run off on you, get out already, go look for her in the dining room.
Don’t forget the coat and the key card. She’s definitely in the dining room.
Hotel, Dining Room
Adam
“Do you think she’s still here?” I get closer to the dining room and wonder what I should tell the hostess at the entrance, the one who checks the room numbers. What’s customary to do in these situations? Should I ask her if my wife has already gone in? Is she even still my wife? And what will she think of me if I ask that sort of question?
I give the hostess my room number and I feel tense. She smiles at me and marks something on a piece of paper which is laid out in front of her, what does that mean? Has my wife been in already or not? I don’t have the guts to ask her. I survey the little dining room and the few people who are sitting in it. I don’t see The Little One here, could it be that she was here earlier and has already left? Where could she have gone? Maybe she didn’t even have her breakfast here?
Two pieces of bread with orange jelly, a little bit of granola and a coffee, I really need coffee. This is starting to become my regular spot, the corner table with the cabaret painting in front of it. Where could she have gone?
“It was such a great idea to wait with the apology until the morning,” I think to myself bitterly, “such a great idea in fact that The Little One managed to disappear on me.” I silently drink my coffee, self-absorbed, trying to think. For a while now I’ve been feeling a lump in my stomach, but it’s grown even bigger during the past couple of days. I have a sort of feeling of continuous failure which is intensifying by the day.
“Why couldn’t I have just spoken to her when she came back last night?”
“I was scared,” I’d tell myself if I were being honest, but I prefer to think about where she might be instead of my fears. It’s better to repress the fears, so that I don’t feel weak, so that The Little One doesn’t think I’m weak. This coffee’s bitter, where’s the sugar? I’ll get some more sugar.
“Where could she have gone?” She must have gone to some museum or something touristy like that, she loves to see art, especially paintings. She always stands in front of them, stares at them with her brown eyes and gets excited. “Do you even know how many museums this city has? Are you really planning on looking for her in each and every one of them?” How will I find The Little One? I have to call her.
“Don’t call her, she won’t pick up.”
“Why shouldn’t I call her? Am I better off running around the entire city looking for her?” I can’t call her, I can’t get myself to call her. I won’t be able to handle her not picking up, the way she didn’t pick up that time, when she left me. I tried calling her again and again to try and explain and she screened my calls. And I sat on our bed feeling like I was falling apart at the seams, holding my head between my hands and whispering to myself, “she doesn’t want you anymore.” Are you sure you want to have another attempt at communication and maybe plummet again? Are you really able to handle that again? No, you’re not calling her.
This coffee needs another spoon of sugar.
“Then what? Start searching for The Little One all over town? And what will you do if you find her?”
“I don’t know.” I have to try, I was mean to her, I don’t know what’s going to happen. Maybe I don’t even deserve to find her, maybe I deserve her leaving me. Maybe she deserves someone better than me.
I’ll take something sweet from the dessert cart, a little cake, I hope the elderly couple from the table across aren’t feeling sorry for me.
“Stop feeling sorry for yourself, you’re not a victim and you’re not in need of pity, you hurt someone so you need to apologize, no one else needs to. If you don’t want to call her then go look for her, but do something already. Stop it with these internal discussions and start doing something.”
It’s a good idea to start searching for The Little One at a museum, you can take a bouquet of flowers with you, she loves flowers.
I think it’s ridiculous to go searching for a tiny woman at a museum while holding a bouquet of flowers.
It actually seems romantic, like out of some movie.
Finish your coffee already, you put way too much sugar in it, go look for flowers, there’s no reason for you to go back up to the room.
Hotel, Room 314, Morning
Kate
The room is empty, clean and tidy, housekeeping was here. I toss the key card on the little table by the front door and I look around. For a moment I feel like Adam has left my life for good, he’s not in the room and there’s no sign of his trolley, the one which was placed by the front door up until now, as if waiting for its owner to
decide what to do with it.
It takes me a few seconds to digest this and I stay motionless in one spot, it looks like this hotel room is no longer ours, as if we were never here and it’s ready for new guests. Suddenly I feel a terrible panic.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Maybe I should actually be feeling relieved? I quickly go to the bathroom and open the door. The glass on the sink has two toothbrushes, mine and his, two razors, pink and black, mine and his. I calm down a little bit, quickly go to the closet and open it, his little trolley is lying at the bottom, housekeeping must have put it there while tidying the room.
I sit down on the edge of the bed for a moment and breathe deeply, not before I crumple the straightened blanket a little bit, breathe a little life back into the room.
I don’t know what I want. Earlier, when I was slowly walking back to the hotel, all I wanted was to sleep. I hardly slept at night, I was full of thoughts, and I had an early wakeup, so I really felt the exhaustion taking over me. All along the walk home I was trying to plan how I’d enter the room, have as short a fight as possible with The Tall One, or simply ignore him, and go straight to sleep. “No confrontations, no dramas,” I told myself over and over again, but the room’s emptiness has surprised me.
“Too many things are happening to me at once,” I think to myself. I don’t really know what to do now. I used to call up my man and talk to him, but what exactly would I talk to him about now? “Good morning, you’ll never guess what happened, I got to the hotel room and it was super tidy and you weren’t there. You really surprised me, where did you go?” I could even continue, “and that’s not all, I’m not even sure if I miss you or if I’m finally feeling free after such a long time. What do you have to say?” What do you think? Is this a sign that you’re on your own as of now? To tell you the truth, he gave you a pretty major hint yesterday morning, though I think you didn’t really take it in fully. Well, you took it in a little bit.
“My Tall One, it’s a shame you didn’t apologize yesterday,” I sit on the bed trying to think, but I’m feeling my eyes closing, “I’ll rest a little bit and then we’ll see,” I whisper to myself as I lie down on the bed, “just for a few minutes.” I take my shoes off and rest my head back, I don’t bother undressing or drawing the curtains to make the room dark, I shut my eyes, just for a few minutes.
