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Third Wheel

10/17/2012

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As I closed my eyes, I could still see the blood streaming down his arm, dripping at his fingertips onto the gritty street. The fact that he had deserved it meant nothing to the people here.  Death row is a somber place and no one cares about motives or good intentions.

The day of the fateful incident started much like any other.  As it was Saturday, Anna and I had the whole day to spend together.  Our apartment, located on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, was tiny yet cozy.  We had a large kitchen and therefore a small, almost nonexistent bathroom.  That is the tradeoff so many New Yorkers must endure.  One or the other is properly sized and sometimes neither.  Unlike Anna, I never minded having a petite bathroom without a tub.  We could only afford a one-bedroom, so I claimed the sofa in the living room while Anna had the smaller room off the corridor.  

As usual, I was the first one up.  The pigeons on our fire escape woke me with their incessant cooing.  I tried banging on the window, but nothing seemed to dislodge them.  Giving up at last, I strolled into the kitchen for breakfast.  The timer on the coffee maker had already gone off and the first pot of coffee was brewing on schedule.  I never understood why Anna set the timer for 6AM every morning.  She never woke before seven, not even on a weekday.  I didn’t drink coffee, so it wasn’t for my benefit.  I did however enjoy the rich smell that saturated the air as the coffee percolated.  I busied myself with the morning paper as I anticipated Anna’s appearance.  

I was eagerly devouring the paper when my attention was snatched away.  That annoying ring tone had started playing on Anna’s cell phone.  It was piercing even through her bedroom door.  I was hoping it wasn’t Henry.  A call from him meant that our plans would be hijacked.  I listened carefully to try to discern her end of the conversation.

“Mm, morning,” she practically moaned.  

“You know I do,” she said with a soft giggle.

Definitely Henry, I thought.

I heard the creaking of our hardwood floors as she stumbled about.  Henry was better than a fire alarm when it came to getting Anna out of bed.  I wondered how good he would be getting her into one.  I gritted my teeth at the thought.  Henry was bad news, didn’t need a newspaper to inform me of that.  

“Well, Molly and I are going to jog around Central Park today, maybe try our luck on the track,” she was telling him.

“No…no, but I did promise to spend the morning with her at that new café that opened near the West side of the park…yep, that’s the one.” Anna snickered a bit.  “Of course you can join us.” 

I stopped listening.  

Anna had us out of the apartment in record time.  She practically tripped bouncing down the steps of our stoop.  Of course her improper shoe choice didn’t help matters.  Earlier when she had appeared from her bedroom wearing cork-wedged sandals instead of sneakers, I knew our morning run was definitely cancelled.

“Molly, if we get there by ten, I’ll treat you to a scone,” she proposed.

I just walked up ahead in response.  I didn’t want to hear it.  This was the second time that she had changed our plans in order to accommodate Henry.  Why she wanted me along, I couldn’t say.  I wasn’t friendly with Henry at our last meeting.  Not that it discouraged him at all.  He had still taken the liberty of slapping my bottom as I was getting into the cab after Anna last Thursday night.    

As she caught up to me, she gave me a little nudge.  I stuck out my tongue.  Staying annoyed with Anna for very long was difficult.  She had a playful side that matched my own.  I was preoccupied with observing a poodle barking at us from across the street as we passed by a shop owner hosing down the sidewalk in front of his storefront.  Anna narrowly missed being sprayed with water, but I wasn’t as lucky.  A gentle mist showered down on my head.  She laughed while asking me, “Cooled down any?”  I just shook my head, although in truth it did feel refreshing.

We did some hurried window shopping along the way.  One of our mutual vices was shoes.  Anna relished the style and appearance of them while I favored the texture and feel.  Together we always selected the perfect pair with our noses pressed to the glass.  

Funny, for being in a hurry, Anna sure made loads of unnecessary stops.  She insisted on waiting for every light.  I preferred the ‘look both ways and plow ahead’ tactic.  Of course, her cautionary approach trumped mine.  

As we stood waiting at one of the intersections, Mrs. Abernathy approached with her toddler grandson.  She gave me her typical, curt greeting and moved on to discussing our super with Anna.  Her gripes about our building were endless.

“Were you able to shower before the hot water ran out this morning?” She quizzed Anna while inspecting her curly blonde locks.  I was only mildly paying attention to their conversation since my long, red hair was washed and styled at the spa yesterday just as it was every Friday.  My need for a Saturday morning shower was null and void.  

Speaking of void, I had forgotten to avoid her grandson’s sticky fingers.  He had his arms wrapped around my leg before I could sidestep him.  Of course in doing so, he had to drop the rubber ball he was carrying.  He and I both watched as it bounced a few times and then rolled out into traffic.  My first instinct was to retrieve it for the little fellow, but the cab’s car horn discouraged that plan abruptly.  Unfortunately, this wasn’t enough to dishearten him.  He was off the curb and past the gutter before I could tackle him.  

“Danny!” Mrs. Abernathy screeched.  It was almost worse than the car horn.  

I froze, Danny started crying and Anna stared.  Then everyone sprinted into action.  Mrs. Abernathy snatched up Danny while glaring at me.  Anna went about trying to collect the ball that was still travelling across the street.  I thought it best to just stand there with my mouth clamped shut.

Mrs. Abernathy actually made a “humph” sound as she seized the ball from Anna’s hand.  She scurried off without saying goodbye to either of us.  

Anna just rolled her eyes and said to me, “That lady is a menace.”  I couldn’t agree more.  Now if only I could convince her that Henry was no better.

As we crossed Fifth Avenue to enter the park at 79th Street, we paused momentarily at one of the vendors’ stalls.  There were at least twenty of them lined up along the park’s East border.  This particular booth had poster quality paintings on display for purchase.  Anna was gazing at a picture of bulldogs sitting around a poker table playing cards and smoking cigars.  I always found bulldogs nauseating, especially with their relentless drooling.  Luckily, when the peddler announced how much it cost, Anna was released from her trance of admiration and we were able to resume our journey.    

The park itself was covered in fallen leaves and soft morning dew.  Squirrels were scurrying around to find the last batch of acorns to contribute to their winter stash, mothers were shaking out picnic blankets, fathers were playing catch with their sons, daughters were capturing ladybugs and making wishes, vendors were unloading ice cream and popsicles by the handfuls, birds were hopping about searching for worms and all breeds of dogs were unleashed and leaping after everything, including the dropped ice cream cones.

Henry was seated outside the park café under the canopy of trees.  From a distance he looked harmless and attractive.  His broad shoulders were relaxed and his lean frame shook slightly as he chuckled.  His hair was long and a bit shaggy, but then again so was mine I reminded myself.

He was sipping coffee and talking to the girls at the table next to his as we approached.  One of them was still laughing as Anna caught his attention by calling out his name.

I heard him say, “We can discuss it later if you like,” to the grinning girl as he stood and accepted the warm embrace from Anna.  The girls gave Anna and me the once-over before signing their check and leaving.  

“Hi Molly,” Henry greeted me. “How are you?” 

I gave him one of my casual responses as we all took our places around the table.

“I’m so glad you were able to meet us,” Anna was gushing.  She gave his hand a quick squeeze from across the table.

“Would you like a coffee?” he inquired of Anna.

“Yes, definitely…oh, and I promised Molly a scone.” She added as she glanced in my direction.  I was pleased that I didn’t have to remind her.  I always felt that I was somehow being intrusive at these little meetings of theirs even though I was usually dragged along.

 Henry summoned the waiter over with a snap of fingers.  “We’ll have a café au lait, the cheese and fruit platter and a plain scone.”  Henry always took control of the ordering.  “Oh, and three waters,” he concluded.

The waiter looked at me, paused and then nodded to Henry.  My window of opportunity to add any input regarding the order closed with the waiter’s nod.

The conversation consisted of pleasantries and sugary pet phrases between Anna and Henry.  I had little to add to the discussion, as far as they were concerned.  They only took notice of me once while we waited for our food and that was only because my stomach made an obtrusive growling noise.  For once, I concurred with it.

At least when the spread finally arrived I was able to preoccupy myself with my meal.  Henry divvied up the fruit which consisted of grapes, apples, oranges and pears.  He likewise took possession of the cheese knife and sliced into the hardened Gouda with ease.  The malleable Brie he distributed in equal amounts on the pieces of bread.  There was almost a precision to the way he arranged our private buffet.  Anna seemed pleased with his efforts, I just found it calculating.       

When our tummies were approaching full, Anna delved into a new topic.  “I tried calling you last night, but couldn’t reach you,” she was saying with her eyes cast down on her crumb and seed sprinkled plate.

Henry ran a hand through his oily hair while lifting his eyebrows.  “I went for a drink with Clyde.”

“You weren’t smoking were you?” She quizzed abruptly.

His hand abandoned his greasy head to rest on top of hers.  “No, of course not, Pumpkin, I told you I quit.”

I almost choked on a mouthful of scone as I heard this.  Couldn’t Anna smell the smoke on his clothes?  Not only did he light up last night but also minutes before we found him, if the third smoldering cigarette at the table vacated by the silly girls was any indication. 

“I know you did,” Anna was adding, “but Clyde is a heavy smoker and I don’t want him to…”

“Shh, everything is okay, Pumpkin,” he insisted as he patted her hand and then plucked a green grape from the cluster laid out in front of them.    

 “Am I your pumpkin?” she was inquiring.

“Yes, Pumpkin, now have a grape.” He answered with a soft chuckle.  He plopped it into her mouth and then leaned over to kiss her.

I turned away for a moment.  When I gazed back, they were both chewing grapes and smiling.  I gulped down some water loudly.

“Excuse me for a second, I need to use the bathroom,” Anna informed us.

Henry nodded and watched her retreat into the restroom.  When she was out of sight, he lunged over the table and reached for her unzipped handbag.  I think he had forgotten that I was there for an instant since he had his hand inside before he peeked over at me.  He flinched slightly at the look I was giving him.

“Molly, relax.  I’m just looking for some mints.” He urged.  I gritted my teeth unconvinced as he resumed rummaging around inside her bag until his hand retrieved some gum.  He made a show of the Trident in his hand with raised arms to appease me before taking his seat again.  I noticed that he pocketed the remaining packet after he took a piece out to unwrap.   

“Care for a piece?” he asked with a smirk on his face.  He popped the gum in his mouth and began chomping loudly.  The smacking noise he was making with his tongue was almost worse than his fidgeting.  He had begun tapping on the table with his spoon, pausing only to pick at his teeth or scratch his head while we waited for Anna to return.  He didn’t bother to maintain the conversation; he knew how I felt about him.  

“So, what should we do now?” Anna prompted as she took her seat again.

“Do?  We are doing something.” He answered.

“No, I mean after this,” she rephrased.

“Pumpkin, you know I’m short on cash this week.  In fact, I might need to borrow a couple of bills from you until payday again.”  

“Oh,” was all she managed to say.  Her empty coffee cup suddenly held a deep fascination for her as she picked up her spoon and began scraping the residual milk foam at the bottom.

“Hey…hey…look at me.” He commanded. 

She gazed up at him.

“This is just until I sell one of my songs.  You know how this racket is.  Why do I have to explain it every time?” he probed.  “You act like I want to take money from you.  What?  You think I enjoy this…begging you?”  He slammed his fist on the table.

She immediately reached over and covered his fist with both her hands.  “No Henry, of course not, I understand.  It’s fine.”  Now it was his turn to have his head lowered with a downtrodden expression on his face.  “I can get you the money, no problem.  In fact, I think there is an ATM just outside the park.  You wait here with Molly and I’ll be right back.”  She squeezed his fist one more time before jumping up and hurrying down the path that lead to the nearest park exit.

Henry pulled out his cell phone and winked at me as he punched in a number.  I looked away.  He started mumbling “Come on, come on,” as it was ringing.  “Fred?...come on, not the machine”  There was a short pause before he continued, “Yeah, it’s Henry.  I’ve got the money.  Call me back to discuss the when and where.  Later.” 

He picked up his spoon and began drumming it on the table again.  The noise was pulsating in my ears.  I looked over at him to stop, however he was too busy glancing about the place to take notice.  The condensation of water had collected and was running down the side of his glass.  I had an image pop into my head of a man with sweat dripping down his forehead.  Bees were buzzing around the discarded apple wedges on the table.  Henry’s foot started tapping in rhythm to his thumping spoon.  I wanted to escape his incessant beating, but I was tied here until Anna returned.  The glint of sun from the cheese knife caught my eye.  Its reflection wavering as the tree leaves above us trembled in the soft breeze.  He began adding a clinging sound by striking his water glass every fourth note.  

“thud, thud, thud, clink…thud, thud, thud, clink…thud, thud thud, clink…thud, thud, thud…”

On the fourth “clink” I bit him.

Well, what do you expect from a dog?
1 Comment
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4/25/2013 09:39:34 pm

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    Theodora Cross

    The short stories listed on this page were my actual writing assignments from the fiction course I took.

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