by Ziv Amit
“Do you have a pen?” she asks.
I take the pen out of my bag and present it to her, she puts its tip against my hand, which is placed on her lap, thinking about how to write her name, she pauses and then hands me the pen back.
I give her a baffled look.
“I’m not him,” she tells me with glistening eyes, “I want to sign my name on you differently.”
She goes through the bag which is hanging on her shoulder by a thin strap and takes out a black eyeliner. She holds my hand, gently folds my fingers to make a fist, and starts to daintily draw her name on my knuckles, each finger bearing a black letter, writing her name on my hand like they do with tattoos.
She’s concentrated on her work, slowly drawing the letters, and I’m making sure not to move my fingers as I stare at her focused face and her lips, which are inaudibly mouthing her name. I’m moved by her.
“What do you think?” she asks when she finishes, giving me an anxious smile, examining her name written in black bold letters.
I make a fist with my hand and place it under my chin so that the writing is visible, smile at her and say, “It’s perfect.”
She laughs and wipes the tears from her red eyes.
“I would have loved you to be my friend,” she says, “but I know your vacation is coming to an end and that we won’t see each other again.”
“Let’s go walk around for a bit,” I get up and give her my hand, and we start walking towards the hotel.
Hotel, Room 314, Noon
Adam
“What are the chances of you beating that?” I ask myself and feel incredibly low. The closet doors are open because I wanted to take out clean clothes from my trolley. My eyes are fixed on a shiny black dress and a leather corset, sticking out in comparison to all of The Little One’s other clothes, like a road sign which can’t be ignored.
“Why did she get these clothes?” I whisper and I’m finding it difficult to handle this discovery. Does she want to wear them for me? No way considering what I had told her the other morning. “Then who did she get them for?”
I don’t know what to think, I feel like the entire world is collapsing on top of me. Her clothes are hanging in the closet and her suitcase is here, but her thoughts and intentions are no longer aimed towards me, they’re elsewhere. “It’s only a matter of time before she comes to get her things and then completely disappears from my life,” I tell myself. I have to drink something.
I walk over to the room’s minibar, little bottles of whiskey are sparkling at me promisingly, but I ignore them and go for a sugary orange soda and a chocolate bar. I have to think for a moment, calm myself down.
I look at the open closet doors again. The shiny dress and the corset look like they’re giving me a smile of victory and contempt. I walk over and stare at them from up close with a hostile look, “I could throw you away in the trash,” I explain to them, determined to beat them.
“Really? Is that what’ll stop her from leaving?” I ask myself cynically as I glide my hand over the dress’s fabric. “Do you think that if you talk to the clothes or throw them away in the trash then The Little One won’t leave?” I feel like I’ve been defeated.
“Yes, you’ve been defeated, someone else is going to enjoy my Little One while she wears a shiny dress and a leather corset.” You wanted to be mean to her? You wanted to ruin the vacation? You wanted her to leave? Then you got what you wanted, she went off and found herself some thrills, she deserves to have fun. I feel like my thoughts are starting to repeat themselves, screening a disturbing movie in my mind.
“No,” I explain to my thoughts, I wanted her to hold me tight and tell me she’s sorry and promise me that she’ll never leave me again. So, I bought her a book.
“That’s what you bought her? A lousy poetry book?” I look at the book, it’s placed on the bed looking lame and neglected, I point to the closet with my eyes, “What are the chances of you beating that?” The book looks like it’s ashamed of itself.
“Maybe I should leave her before she leaves me?” I think to myself, at least that way I’d be saving a little bit of my dignity, I’ll be able to walk away with pride, not just sit around waiting for the knife to come. I’ll leave calmly, in a dignified way, I’ll just go.
I go over to the bathroom and collect my things, put them in the suitcase. They don’t seem to leave a noticeable vacuum behind, I don’t think I’ll be leaving a lot of sorrow behind in this room, as it is my trolley has hardly been opened during this vacation.
The little bit that there was to pack is already packed, the trolley is placed in waiting at the bottom of the closet and I lie on the bed, look up at the light ceiling, try to collect my thoughts and decide what to do, but the same thought repeats itself in my mind over and over again, “She’s going to leave me.”
Boulevard Saint-Germain, Noon
Kate
“Why did he leave you?” The Beauty asks me as we walk around the boulevard casually, looking at the brown autumn leaves, and I’m surprised by her question, I feel like I need to sit down for a moment and I look for a bench.
I wonder to myself how much and what I should tell her, and where to even start, I have no idea. “We broke up because of a book,” I answer, “Because of a book with flowers.”
“Please tell me,” she asks and I feel like I can’t turn her down after she had opened up to me the way she did, it also seems like her interest is genuine.
We sit down and I look at the warm afternoon sun, its pleasant warmth makes me close my eyes, the pain of my story is also contributing to that.
“I used to have someone, a charming guy, we were together for a few years,” I begin the story. I can’t bring myself to tell her that we’re still married.
“How did you meet?” she asks with the excitement of a close friend who wants to know all of the details.
“At a party, he was tall and handsome with loads of women surrounding him, kind of like your photographer,” I smile at her and then think that maybe I made a mistake by mentioning the photographer, but her expression remains the same and I continue. “I saw him from afar, I took a liking to him,” I recall the first time I laid eyes on him, “the power of his hands as he spoke, the way he moved them, everyone was transfixed by him, he was describing a nature hike he had been on or some sort of world-travel adventure on some faraway island, he really knew how to express himself with a lot of sensitivity.”
The Beauty is listening to me with fascination.
“And as you already know, I’m pretty small, it’s a bit difficult for me to stand out in a crowd,” I smile and she does too.
“So, I waited for the right moment and then asked him a really interesting question.”
“What did you ask?”
“I don’t actually remember anymore,” I answer her honestly, “it had something to do with books, it wasn’t connected to what he had been talking about, but it immediately got his attention. But I hadn’t yet fallen in love with him at that point,” she’s fully attentive and I continue.
“We started going out and we felt really good together, and then one day, as I was reading a book - I like reading books - I discovered some petals between the pages. Someone had put flower petals in there to dry. I found it strange and smiled to myself. A few days later I was reading a different book and discovered that it too had dried petals hidden within its pages.” She smiles at me.
“I learned that while we were taking walks together, casually through a field or even in the city by a nice garden, he’d pick flowers and put them in his pocket. When he realized I liked reading books, he started hiding the flower petals between the pages, for me to discover as I read them.”
“That’s how I fell for him,” I smile at the memory of what was, and look at The Beauty who is listening to me with wide open eyes lit by the autumn sun.
I think about Ad
am, I miss him and I miss his flowers between the pages, and tears start collecting in the corners of my eyes.
“And why did he leave you?” She places her hand on my knee and looks at me softly, and I don’t quite know how to tell her what had happened.
“He gave a book with flowers in it to someone else, a book which had been mine, and I couldn’t handle that, it really hurt me, she fell for him straight away and they started an affair, so I up and left.”
I’d like to tell her it had all been a mistake, but I can’t get myself to do it. I’d like to tell her he had innocently lent the woman the book, forgetting it contained the petals he had placed in it especially for me, and that I had been angry with him and wouldn’t listen to anything he said. I’d like to tell her that they didn’t really have an affair, that the woman had fallen for him and tried to seduce him, and that I refused to believe that nothing had happened between them. I’d like to tell her what had really happened, but then she’d think I’m an idiot and I can’t handle that right now, it’s enough that I think that about myself. I’m such an idiot and I deserve him not wanting me anymore.
“And you didn’t try to forgive him?” The Beauty asks me gently.
“I tried,” I say with a sad, teary smile, “I tried to go back to him, but he wasn’t prepared to forgive me for having left him,” I give her the partial truth.
Now I’m properly crying and The Beauty hugs me and caresses my neck.
“So now I’m here on a romantic vacation with you,” I say as I wipe my face and laugh cynically through my tears.
She remains silent, hugs me, caresses my neck and gets me a tissue out of her bag, my tears keep running.
We sit quietly on the bench and look up at the sky and the sun, I try to calm down and she smokes silently. She offers me a cigarette but I politely turn her down, one or two more of those and I’ll take up the habit again, I’ve made enough mistakes recently, I don’t want to get carried away and make another one.
“Let’s go buy you a book and I’ll put flowers in it,” she suddenly offers, interrupting my train of thought, I’m moved by her gesture and my tears threaten to return.
“Thank you,” I say with a smile and wipe my eyes with the tissue, “your offer is lovely and I really appreciate it, but the book with the flowers belongs solely to him.”
We continue to sit silently on the bench, side by side, she’s enjoying the sun’s warmth and smoking a cigarette, I’m enjoying the sun’s warmth and occasionally wiping away my tears, thinking about books and about tonight.
“Let me walk you to your hotel,” she gives me her hand and we rise from the bench.
Hotel, Room 314, Noon
Adam
“Don’t give up on her,” I stare at the light ceiling, waiting for an idea. “Don’t surrender to the dress and the corset, it doesn’t matter why she got them or who she got them for. You want her? Then fight for her.” I whisper encouraging sentences to heighten my motivation. But it’s not easy, I feel like all hope is lost, pep talks might work for romantic movies, but do they stand a chance in real life? Do I stand a chance against the outfits awaiting in the closet?
“Try to be yourself. She’ll fall in love with you now just like she did back then,” I try to convince myself. That sentence is lame, banal and corny, but it’s the best I can do right now. Either I do that or I give it all up, and if I decide to give up then I’ll need to get my trolley out of the closet and get out of here.
“Fuck you, I’m going to win, I’m not giving up, I’ve got an idea,” I tell the outfits as I get off the bed. For a moment there I catch myself standing in front of a closet shouting at clothes, it seems so ridiculous that I start laughing, smiling to myself in the mirror. Should I go out to the city in order to beat the outfits, or should I shower first?
Hotel, Hallway Leading to Room 314, Noon
Kate
I’m in the short hallway connecting between the staircase and the room when I suddenly realize I may have made a terrible mistake. “What if Adam is in the room right now?” I think to myself with horror. But I can’t back out now and I pass by the cleaner who is going through the rooms with her service cart. She greets me and I give her a little smile, but I’ve only got one thing on my mind. “Please let him not be there, please let him not be there.” My shaky hand goes through my bag looking for my wallet, I get the key card out and get closer to the door.
The Beauty and I had been walking around the city like a couple of old friends, holding shopping bags, and we stopped for a goodbye hug outside the hotel entrance.
“I need the bathroom,” she told me with embarrassment, a moment before we hugged goodbye.
“Come up to my room,” I offered her spontaneously without thinking too much about it.
“Thank you,” she smiled.
“Now this is real sisterhood,” I thought to myself as we entered the hotel lobby.
We were walking through the hallway leading to the room, the wall-to-wall carpet absorbing the sound of our footsteps, when suddenly I remembered Adam and realized he might be in the room.
I stopped for a second, not knowing what to do.
“Is everything alright?” The Beauty asked.
“Yes, yes,” I smiled at her, trying to conceal my thoughts, “I thought I had the wrong floor,” and we kept walking, I was terribly scared.
“What will you tell her once you open the door and see him there? What will you say? Figure something out already, what will she think of you? What are you going to do?” I felt like I was starring in a thriller where the actress is walking in slow-motion towards a predictable and irreversible end. I slowly walked towards the room, smiled at the cleaner who passed by us, trying to think up an excuse or an explanation or a justification, and I couldn’t. The only thought I had in my head was, “What will she think of me after I had lied to her like that?”
I stopped by the door, got the key card out of my wallet and smiled to The Beauty, who was looking at me as if saying, “Open it already, I have to pee.”
“Maybe she’ll rush to the bathroom and not notice there’s a man in the room?” I think to myself, “I could tell her he’s my brother, if he isn’t naked that is, yes, that could work too.” Not really, even I wouldn’t believe me.
I open the door to the room, say a silent prayer and walk in, The Beauty follows me.
The room is empty, I look around, waiting to see Adam peeping out of a corner, but he’s not here. The room is neat and tidy as though housekeeping had just finished cleaning it, the blanket is stretched over the bed, the curtains are wide open, no Adam in sight. I take a couple of deep breaths of relief.
“May I?” The Beauty asks, cutting my train of thought.
I look at her, not getting what she means. For a moment, while searching for Adam in the room, I had forgotten she was there. She hints towards the half-open bathroom door with her eyes and I finally recall why she’s here.
“Of course,” I step back to allow a pathway for her in the little room, thinking for another terrifying moment that maybe he’s in the bathroom, but it’s too late for me to do anything about it. My eyes follow her as she crosses through the room, turns the bathroom light on and shuts the door behind her.
No screams are heard, I assume she hasn’t met with him in there. I sit on the bed to rest for a moment, rest and calm down my racing heartbeat.
“She’ll probably spot his toothbrush and razor and understand that there’s also a man staying here,” I now realize the problematic aspect of letting a stranger into my hotel room, but I can no longer handle all this stress and the pounding of my heart. “Let her find out, let her say that I’m a liar, let her get offended and leave.” I’m unable to explain myself and I have no excuse to offer her when she asks. I stay seated and scan the room, looking for a sign of him, there’s not even a hint of his presence. Maybe he’s finally left me.
I hear the toilet flushing behind the closed door and prepare myself for the questions that will bombard me once the door opens.
“Is everything alright?” The Beauty appears through the bathroom door, asking me with a worried look.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Because you suddenly seem tired, or sad.” Either she hasn’t noticed his toiletries or she’s too polite to ask, the second option seems to make more sense to me, I feel completely exhausted by all the stress of this scenario.
“No, everything’s fine,” I smile at her, hoping she believes me.
“Are you worried about tonight?” I feel like she doesn’t want to leave and is trying to find things to talk about, I think she wants to stay here and chat with me but I want to wind down a bit, rest a bit, I’ve also got Adam flooding my mind, he’s left me, for good.
I collect myself and stand up, I don’t want her to think it’s because of her and get offended, and I don’t want her to think that I’m scared about tonight or that I don’t want to come over, I just want some time to myself. How do I say that without hurting her feelings?
“Not at all,” I say with fake cheerfulness, “tonight’s photoshoot will be really special and I’m looking forward to it.”
I think she’s waiting for me to say something additional.
“I had a lovely time with you today, I’ll rest for a while and prepare for tonight,” I say and hug her, I think that’s what she was waiting for.
“I’m so happy I met you, you fill me with courage,” she says and hugs me for longer than usual, as though she doesn’t want to part company, and I feel like I could tell her the same thing, if I weren’t so worried about Adam’s toiletries, did she notice them or not?
My eyes follow her as she walks down the hallway. “See you tonight,” I tell her.
“Tonight,” she replies as she walks away, keeping her back to me and lifting the shopping bag with the shoes up in the air. I watch her walk away from me on the pink wall-to-wall carpet until I lose sight of her.
The second I shut the door I go straight to the bathroom and turn the light on. The glass by the bathroom sink has my toothbrush and razor, Adam’s things are gone. Four swift steps to the closet, his trolley is still in there. I sit on the bed and then lie back, looking up at the ceiling, I have to rest and calm down a bit, I need coffee.
