Bruce, Clothed, Monte Carlo, Monaco
DAVID 270
I was really lucky to get my apartment on Charles Street. I think I owe my luck to the fact that it's a basement apartment, and that's what probably scared potential tenants away as they scanned the ads, although in New York City people have been known to scan the obituaries in search of new vacancies. But I loved it as soon as I saw it. It has a little front yard with a wrought iron fence, and Mrs. Anatowski, my landlady, grows rosebushes there. When you enter the foyer of the building, you're drawn to a grand set of stairs, but you can also opt to go down a small flight of steps to a simply decorated lobby that is often filled with the sunlight that streams through the ornate, beveled glass panes of the huge front door. There's no number on my door, which gives me the feeling of being safe and sequestered, where only Mrs. Anatowski can find me, unless I tell someone where I am of course. But officially, I'm in apartment number one.
When you enter, there's a little hallway with a closet, and then a small kitchenette to your left, and a bathroom to your right and then the rest of the apartment is one huge loft-like room, but instead of being above the street, it's slightly below street level. The ceiling is twelve feet high and there are small windows high up on the walls that not only let in lots of light, but the color and fragrance of the rose bushes as well. In the late afternoon, sunlight streams in and great rectangular beams slowly creep across the floor.
It's easy to keep clean, but in this particular dream I was in the mood to get dirty. It was time to do spring cleaning, although it felt like summer. It was hot. I had the fan on at full power. The sheer curtains on the little windows were motionless right now, and I looked forward to the afternoon and a puff of breeze to help cool the apartment. I was dirty and grimy. I remember thinking that I would soon hear more commotion from the street as people began to go home for the day. For some reason, I knew it was a Friday. I don't know why I wasn't at work. I had on the oldest t-shirt I could find. It had once been white, but now it was a dingy grey, covered with stains, and fraying at the collar and sleeves. I didn't even have any shoes on. I just wore my flip-flops and an old pair of cutoffs that had a hole in the butt. I didn't care. No one was going to see me today.
And then the doorbell rang. Mr. Pibbs, my parrot, squawked, Oh my god!, his favorite saying. I don't know where he learned that one. I hardly ever say it. I shushed him. I'd convinced Mrs. Anatowski long ago that he wasn't a nuisance, but I always cringed whenever she, or anyone, paid a friendly visit, and at first sight, the bird squawked Oh my god!
"Just a minute", I yelled. I undid the bolt and opened the door. And there stood........a vision. I froze, my hand still on the doorknob. My mouth dropped open.
It was David, dressed, as they say, "to the nines" in a classic tuxedo. His hair had been slicked back, but the wave in his hair was still apparent and the little lock of hair that always adorned his forehead had struggled free and had found its usual place. He stood straight and stiff, his eyes wide with a kind of nervous fear. In his right hand he held a dozen blood red roses, and at their base was another dozen buds. The great influx of air brought in by my opening the door smelled of flowers and clean, bright cologne.
"....................hi......" he said quietly, his eyes still wide.
I couldn't speak. I've never seen anything so dashing in my life. I didn't even think of the miracle of tailoring that could put a tux on that body. All I could think of was how a man in uniform looks strong and gallant, and that a tux is a kind of uniform, and how if you had asked me what article of clothing I thought I'd never see David in, after a moment or two, I think I would have said "a tux". I blinked very quickly, about six or seven times, because I'd stood there for a good five seconds with my eyes as wide open as they could go, staring. I let my eyes wander up and down one time. I saw glittering diamond cufflinks sparkling on his shirt cuffs. His shoes were like mirrors of ink-black ice. His lapel was black satin. And in the middle of all that neutrality,......those eyes. Ultimately, if you can tear your gaze from his body, it's his eyes that always steal your mind.
I didn't speak the next word.; I breathed it. My vocal chords did not engage. I just kind of whispered, "......hi....." And then I blinked again because my eyes were drying out.
He sighed, as though steeling himself for something formidable, and then he looked down at the floor, shifted nervously, and said, "......um.........I-I-I was wonderin'...." He kind of shifted all his weight onto one foot so that he could fidget with the other foot. It almost looked like he was writing something on the floor with his toe. ".....I was wonderin'," he said again. "......if you were...free this weekend." Then he looked up at me for a split second, and then looked back down at the floor.
I finally found my voice. "This w-weekend?" I said. "You mean...you mean...like tomorrow?"
He sighed. "No." He swallowed. "Like...." He looked up at me for a split second and then looked back down at his shoes. "Like...right now."
Oh my god! Squawk!
I couldn't have said it better myself. "Right...now?"
He nodded. He looked me in the eye for a split second, but for the most part, he avoided my gaze. He cleared his throat and said, "I know it's short notice, but uh....well...I uh, I have to go to this awards dinner. Out of town. And uh..........." He had all the confidence of a fourteen year old boy asking the prettiest girl to a dance. He picked at the paper wrapped around the flowers. He tugged on the hem of his jacket. "I...I don't wanna go by myself and I was just hopin' that uh...you know....you could...." He scratched the back of his head. "Um... He checked his shoes again.
"....come with me."
If you had told me that I'd won the lottery, I couldn't have felt more shocked...or happy. "Out of town? For the weekend?"
He nodded, not a hint of a smile on his face, bracing himself for a rejection, as though he had asked for the moon. He cleared his throat again.
"Well, actually......kind of.......I....I'd say Monday too." He switched the flowers from his right hand to his left and then back again, all the while picking at the paper. "We're going to Newark," he said.
"New Jersey?"
"No," he said. "I mean yes! I mean....our flight leaves from Newark. Newark airport."
I blinked hard, once. "Flight?"
He nodded.
"OH BOY!" I yelled and slammed the door shut.
Oh my god! Squawk!
"Oh my god!"
Oh my god!
"Oh my god!"
Oh my god!
"Oh my goodness gracious god-freakin...'"
Oh my god!
"--Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!"
Oh my god!
I ran into the apartment, losing a flip-flop on the way. I whirled around and hopped on one foot as I put it back on. Then I ran to my bed and threw myself onto it, turned as I bounced, and took both of them off. I had to get ready! I had to get ready! I was a mess! But what should I wear? Where were we going? I looked over at the sofa and yelled, "Where are we...?" I gasped, and slapped both hands to my cheeks. "Oh my god!"
Oh my god!
I ran back to the door and locked the bolt. Then I turned the doorknob and tugged with all my might, but it wouldn't open. Then I realized what I had done and undid the bolt, threw open the door, and panting, looked up at him and yelled, "COME IN!"
I startled him. But I stepped aside to give him room. Most doorways are too small for him, and it's a sight just to watch him enter a room. He is a giant. He stepped in, and as usual he had to duck just a tad and lead with one shoulder. He stood in the little hallway while I slammed the door.
I yelled, "I have to get ready!"
"Oh," he said. "Okay."
"I have to get ready!" I yelled. "Don't go anywhere!"
He shook his head. "I won't."
I ran to the bedroom area and leaped onto the bed, bounced to the other side, collided with the dresser, but you know, I meant to do that. Really. No, really...for speed's sake. I reached under my bed and pulled out my suitcase. I opened it, and turned it upside down. I store old cookbooks in it. They went tumbling onto the floor. I slammed the open suitcase down on top of the bed and whirled around to open a drawer. I had to get ready! I grabbed socks and threw them in. I grabbed underwear and threw them in. I grabbed a Hawaiian shirt and threw it in. And then I remembered that he was wearing a tux. I scampered over the bed and ran across the big room, sliding like a dog on linoleum as I rounded the corner into the little hall.
"What do I pack?" I yelled breathlessly. "Fancy, or casual?" I was panting for breath.
"Uh...well now..."
"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry! Please come in! Sit down! I'm sorry it's such a mess, but I was doing my spring cleaning and I'm not usually this dirty!"
"Oh it...it looks just fine," he said as I waved him over to the sofa. "Don't you go worryin' on my account. I--"
"Oh I'm a mess!" I felt my face. I could feel the day's dust and dirt on it. I hadn't even bothered to comb my hair that morning! "But it's okay," I spouted, "because I'll get cleaned up! But I have to get ready! To get cleaned up. I'll be ready when I'm cleaned up!"
"Well," he began cautiously, "I could help you if you want. We've got a bit of a ways to go and--"
"What else should I pack for the trip?"
"What?"
"What should I pack? How fancy? F-fancy fancy? Or...or, or kind of fancy?"
"Well--"
"Or for the beach too? Inside? Outside?"
He stared down at the floor, sighed, and rubbed his chin. He shrugged. "I...I'd say both. I guess."
"Huh?"
"Well.............Monte Carlo..............the beach is right there."
Oh my god!
My mouth fell open. I felt my tongue come out a little. "Mah...Mah...Mah...Monte--"
Without a smile, he looked up at me, and nodded.
I wheezed. I had to. I'd stopped breathing. I would have screamed, if I could have screamed. Like a roadrunner, I covered the distance of the apartment in what seemed like two seconds. I tore open my closet door and grabbed armfuls of clothes and threw them on the bed. My good blue suit was stored at the back of the closet. Frantically, I shoved clothes aside, until I remembered...it was at the cleaners. I jumped up on the bed and then sprang off it, landed hard, and went flying back to the sofa.
"I don't have suit! Oh no! I don't have a-a-a-a--"
"Oh that's all right," he said plainly. "I guessed your size and I got you a tux."
"You got me a--?"
He nodded and then cringed as he announced his estimate. "Um...thirty six regular?"
My eyes went wide.
"It's just your basic black tux...with you know, the cufflinks and all.. Oh! But if...if that's not the right size...I-I-I I got two sizes above and two sizes below just in case."
My mouth dropped open.
""Cept I got gold and emeralds for you, to match your eyes and your hair. For your cufflinks."
"Oh m-m-m--"
"They're in the limousine."
"The...the....the.....?"
He nodded.
"aaaaaaaAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!"
Oh my god!
"AAAAAhhhhh! Oh my god!" I ran to the bedroom and yanked some pants from the closet. I grabbed my good shoes from under the bed and was about to throw them into the suitcase when I realized that I'd just shined them not two hours ago. They would smear all the clothes if they went in there. I grabbed my Yankees t-shirt and rolled my shoes up in it, and then shoved it into the suitcase. I slammed the suitcase shut and locked it. A pair of underpants poked out one of the sides. I didn't care. Then I remembered I had no tops. I opened the suitcase, ripped open a drawer, and grabbed a few shirts. I slammed the suitcase shut and dragged it into the living room and unceremoniously dumped it at his feet.
"Oh," he said meekly. "These are for you." He handed me the roses.
"Oh my gosh," I said breathlessly. "They're beautiful!"
Weh-heh-heh-hell! Fancy that! Squawk!
I laughed.
"He's a very smart bird," David said.
And what about you? Squawk!
We both laughed. Well, I laughed while trying very hard to breathe. And then, "Oh my god!"
Oh my god!
I bolted for the bathroom. I crashed into the doorway. I sprinted back into the living room. "I don't even have any shoes on!" I told him.
"Well...how 'bout if you put some on now?"
"Yeah!"
"Sneakers'd be fine for the--"
"OHHHhhhh!" Back I went into the bathroom. I looked for my little travel bag under the sink. It wasn't there. I grabbed my first aid kit and dumped the contents into the sink and then with one fell swoop I scooped a can of shaving cream and a razor into the box, threw open the cupboard over the toilet and scooped some cologne and hair gel into the box. I ran out into the hall and slid the first aid kit along the floor toward him and then dashed for the kitchen. "Ohhhhhh!" I moaned.
"Oh," he began, quite calmly, "You don't have to worry 'bout takin'--"
"I...I...I have to take my allergy medicine! Because! Because I have to! Take my allergy medicine!"
"Well that's fine," his voice was slow and mellow as molasses, "but you don't have to worry 'bout takin' any toiletries or anything. They got all that stuff at the hotel we're staying at."
I found my allergy medicine. I grabbed two bottles just in case.
"I think most of the goodies they have at the hotel are from Switzerland. They make pretty good stuff."
I ran back into the room, clutching my allergy medicine to my chest. "I"M READY!" I yelled. Then I looked down at my shredded cutoffs and my bare feet and yelled, "NO!" I dumped my allergy medicine on the sofa and launched myself onto the bed. I reached into an open drawer and grabbed some socks. I hopped on one foot while I put one on, blurting out a word with each hop. "I...just...have...to...find...my...tennis...sh--" I lost my balance and went tumbling to the floor.
"Are you okay?"
"YES! I-I mean, yes!"
"I think I see your sneakers over there by the stereo."
"I know! They're over by the stereo! I mean...I know! I mean...okay!" I whined as I put the other sock on. "Ohhhhhhh. Don't worry. I'm almost ready!"
"Oh there's no hurry, although it would be kinda nice if we could leave before traffic--"
"Oh my god!"
Oh my god!
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Where are my flowers? What did I do with my flowers?"
"Well," he began, "I think I saw you take 'em into the bathroom."
Weh-heh-heh-hell! Fancy that!
"I want to take them with me!"
"Well," he looked a bit concerned. "Okay. But if you'd like, I could put 'em in some water for you, and you could set 'em here. They'll still be real nice when we get back."
I ran back into the kitchen, dumped the contents of my penny jar onto the counter, poured some water into it, swished it around, emptied it, set it down in the sink, stuck the flowers into it, and turned on the water.
"Uh..." he began, "I could be wrong, but don't that eventually make hot water come out when you got the lever all the way to the left like that?"
I looked at the water. "Huh? OH!"
Oh my god!
I slammed the lever to the right. While the jar filled, I grabbed a third jar of allergy medicine.. I ran back into the living room and tossed it onto the sofa.
"You poor li'l thing," he said. "You must have some really bad allergies. How long does one of them bottles last you?"
I was huffing and puffing. The water was still filling the jar in the kitchen. I bent over and rested my hands on my knees as I tried to catch my breath.
He glanced at the sink. "You know, I-I could be wrong but those flowers don't need a ton of water."
I glanced into the kitchen. The jar was overflowing. I rushed back into the kitchen, shut off the water, picked up the jar and carefully began to pour some water out into the sink. "Oh gosh! What.......what time does our flight leave?" I asked.
He looked confused. "Uh.........." He shrugged. "Any time we want."
Now I looked confused. I held my breath and looked at him.
He raised his arm and stuck his thumb out like a hitchhiker, pointing somewhere with it, and said as calmly as you please, as though the subject of his next sentence was parked right outside on the sidewalk, "I got m'own plane."
For a moment, there was only the sound of the fan, and then there was a tiny little sound from my vocal chords: "...gah!...", and then there was the sound of the water rushing into the sink with a FOOSH as the jar slipped from my grasp. And then, like a mouse, my voice squeaked, "Oh.........m-my g--"
Weh-heh-heh-hell! Fancy that!
"I tell you whut," he said with his Texas drawl, "That is the smartest bird I have ever seen."
And what about you?
I laughed, but it wasn't a normal laugh. It was the warbling, crazed laugh of a lunatic. A breathless lunatic. I stood the jar upright. It was still half full of water, and with trembling hands I put the wet jar and its contents in the corner where they'd stay cool. And then, in a sudden flash of realization, my heart sank. In panic, I ran back into the living room and stopped so fast that I skidded for a foot and a half in my bare socks.
"OHHH!"
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Oh no! OH NO!"
"What is it?"
"I don't have a passport!"
"Oh." he said. He pulled at his lapel and reached into his right breast pocket. Out came a shiny new passport. He held it out to me.
I took it.
I opened it.
There was my picture. "I.........this......but......." I was just absolutely incredulous. "HOW?"
"Well uh...my mama knows someone at the American embassy over there in Monaco, and...well they know someone at the French embassy here in New York, and so...well.... Oh it's all legal and everything!"
Weh-heh-heh-hell! Fancy that!
"Oh. You know what?" he said. "I think you should bring your glasses."
"My glasses!"
"For readin'."
"For reading!"
"Uh huh."
"I should bring my glasses. For reading!"
"Well now, that's a good idea to my way of thinkin'. That's all you need 'em for, isn't it?" He rubbed his chin. He was a sight sitting there with his butt below the level of his knees and his huge thighs spread out. With his elbows resting on his knees, he looked like a huge black and white football player taking a break on the sidelines.
I had a flash of sanity, and then I ran to the kitchen counter where I'd left my glasses near the phone.
"It's too bad Mr. Pibbs can't go with us," David said.
"Ohhhh," I whined. "I forgot about--"
"Who's gonna take care of him?"
Oh my god!
I gasped and my eyes went wide. I clapped my hand over my mouth. And then the phone rang. "Hello?.......H-hi Mrs. Anatowski....................Oh yes. He's here. Thanks for letting him in...............Yeah, he sure is, isn't he?...........Oh no, that's ok. That's ok. You're not bothering. In fact it's nice of you to check But wait!......Can you take care of Mr. Pibbs until Monday?"
"Tuesday," whispered David. "Just in case."
"Uh...'till Tuesday?"
"Psst. Wednesday at the latest."
"Uh...'til Wednesday? At the latest?"
Weh-heh-heh-hell! Fancy that!
"Oh thanks! I really appreciate it! Oh good! At least I know he'll be in good hands."
Squawk! And what about you?
"Ok.," I said. "Thanks so much! For everything! I'll call you! I better get going! Bye!" I grabbed my glasses and turned to find David standing at the door with my suitcase. "Think I've forgotten anything?"
For the first time, he smiled. He shook his head and said, "Nuh-uh."
I grabbed my allergy medicine and stuffed it into the pockets of my jacket and followed David out the door. I made sure I had my keys and wallet, and waved to Mr. Pibbs. "Bye Mr. PIbbs. I'll be back in a couple of days. Don't worry. You be good now."
And what about you?
2006