November

A knock came upon the door. He froze. His suitcase lay half packed. He glanced to see what he had packed. In his haste he had come up with:

-a roll of quarters

-a wad of cash

-four pairs boxers, wool, one with the button missing

-two shirts, one stained, one new

-an old cell phone, no charger

-one pair of pants, jeans

-two dull pencils

-a book of numbers

-two packs of gum, lemon

-a black jacket, rumpled

-a book of Icelandic phrases

-a half construed dream, also rumpled

He grabbed a small pendant that hung from the mirror. Another knock. Stuffing a plane ticket into his pocket, he latched up the suitcase. He could hear hurried talking from outside and then a sickening crack as the door was kicked in. He disappeared through the bathroom window, making sure to shut it quietly behind him. Scrambling down the fire escape, he picked the cell phone from his bag and began to dial.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” She stopped. “I didn’t think you would call.”

“I’m stopping by. I need a ride to the airport.”

There was a pause. For a moment he wondered if the line had gone dead. “OK.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” he said.

“You’re not going to tell me what this is about, are you.”

“No.” He began to jog down the back alley. A shout sounded behind him. He didn’t look back.




She put down the phone and fell back into the couch. Muting the TV, she sat in silence for a few moments, letting the news sink in. She had felt it coming.

She rose and began assembling a pot of coffee. Again, she sat silently as the coffee maker murmured. She looked around the apartment. Everywhere there was debris; it looked as if an earthquake had given birth. Month old newspapers, cans, last week’s Chinese food and, everywhere, stacks of paper. If she could trash the recyclables, that would be a start. For a moment the notion of cleaning before he arrived occurred to her. No, he wouldn’t notice.

A small chime sounded and a red light blinked off. She pried the waffles out of the iron with a knife, then grabbed a cup of Sumatran coffee and returned to the couch. She sighed. She should have bought syrup. Fuck it. She devoured the waffles bare in front of the flickering TV. Her headache returned.

She was almost finished when the buzzer rang. Rolling off the couch, she unlocked the door. “Come on up. It’s open.”

Several minutes later he pushed the door open.

“Hey,” she said.

“We should go.”

“I was hoping we could talk.”

“I don’t have the time.”

“I made coffee.”

He said nothing.

She sighed. “When’s your flight.”

“Soon.”

She picked her coat from the floor and followed him out into the hallway. “A man called for you yesterday.” He was silent. “I didn’t tell him anything.”

“Thank you.”

“I worry about you,” she said.

He almost returned the sentiment but stopped himself. “Don’t. I’m fine.”

They moved down the stairwell with only the creaking steps to break the silence. The lights had long burnt out, so the two of them were lit only by the cloudy grey of a late city afternoon.

“I’m sorry you know,” she said.

“I know.” They walked into the parking lot. “I am too.”




The drive was quiet. They were both lost in thought.

The crowds of yellow cabs and hooded strangers began to slip, to fade, to disappear into empty countryside. Stale car air and cracked windows. They knew they were slipping away. The sky began to darken as they drove. Thunder cracked as lightning shimmered across the clouds. The rain fell softly and - even if they did not realize it - they both felt safe locked within that car – at least for that fleeting moment of time.

She was the first to break the silence.

“Can I ask you something?” Her hands drifted lightly over the wheel. “Are you running from them?” She turned to look at him. “Or from me?”

His gaze was fixed upon the horizon. He did not answer.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said.

Again he didn’t answer. He continued to let his stare fall out towards the sky. Several minutes passed. “Do you…” he began but then stopped. She pulled off the freeway. Finally he spoke again. “Do you believe in second chances?”

There was more silence. She wasn’t sure what to say. Another drum of thunder sounded softly. The sun began to dip towards the horizon, tingeing the grey day red.

“I bought two tickets,” he said.

From the corner of her eye she noticed he was wearing the necklace she had given him. The airport was not far away and the rain was beginning to lighten.