Number 17 Bleecker street
A man on a bicycle rode by just then, barely missing me. I watched as he rode off into the fog. There was no one else on the streets this early, damp morning. The first light had just barely crept into the sky. I kept walking, watching the numbers on the buildings as I went by, looking for number 17. Looking up, I saw the number on a rather dingy looking building. Broken windows and limp, dead vines adorned the outside, a few bullet holes and mud graced the front door.
I went up the cement steps and tapped on the door, not quite fully on it's hinges. It opened slowly, creaking a low sound of protest. A blast of warm, smelly air hit me, knocking me back. Dirt ran up and down the walls, and I noticed rats crawling all around, and lot's of flies.
Making my way to the elevator, I could hear crashes, screams, then all was quiet. The elevator was slow to come. Finally it arrived, the doors opened slowly, and I stepped inside. The elevator smelled of sweat and used condoms littered the floor. I pushed number 4, trying not to gag the whole way up. When I finally reached the 4th floor, the doors opened and I stood there in shock. Ripped wallpaper, dingy old photos, as well as dried blood hung from the walls. A black cat growled and hissed at me as I walked down the hallway. I heard she lived in room 418, and when I got there, I knocked. Nothing. I wondered how she ended up in such a place? I knocked again. Still no answer.
I slowly turned the handle and walked in. When I entered the apartment, I saw her lying limp in an old armchair. She was pale and looked lifeless.
"JOSEPHINE!?" I ran over to her and clutched her hand, feeling her wrist for a pulse. She was hopped up on drugs, and lots of them. I'd seen it before; It wasn't pretty.
She gurgled, looked at me, then said, "Manny, I..." She couldn't finish. She bent over and threw up. Coming up was bile. She clearly couldn't throw up food. It looked like she hadn't eaten anything in weeks.
"It's okay!" I said, as tears started to well up in my eyes. Mainly from the pure disgust of the situation, and the fact that It had just been far to long. "I'm here now." I hugged her.
I went to go draw a bath for her, but the water came out brown, though it soon cleared. Once it was drawn, I lifted her up as she hobbled along. I set her in the bath and washed her, noticing with some relief that her color was starting to come back. But not much.
I was sure she wouldn't remember me, but I thought the mention of my name might help. I pulled Jo' out of the bath; remembering when I used to call her Jo'. She always told me to stop. More tears ran down my cheeks and I wiped them off.
"It's me, James. James? You remember me?" Her eyes opened wide, then shut closed fast. She draped herself over my shoulders, and that was the first time I really realized she was naked. I set Jo' down on the broken toilet seat and examined her. She looked terrible. Ribs sticking out, hair mated down, her whole body pale. Dressing her, laying her down on her bed, I vowed to stay with her till she got better, no matter HOW long it took.
I sat there, watching her sleep.
A short while later, I was startled by a knock on the door.
"Who are you!?" A tall, tan man with golden hair and a scar on his neck questioned rather firmly. Before I even had a chance to open my mouth he continued, "What're you doing here!?"
"Why do you want to know!?" I asked, looking at him with inquisitive eyes.
"It's my business to know!" said the man, his black suit and bright green tie making him look a little strange, kind or douchey in fact.
"What do you want!?" I said, glaring at him.
"I'm here to collect from Josephine!" he told me, "she's my client."
"Jo's sleeping!" I forced the words on him. "She can't see anyone right now."
"She's behind on her payments!" He told me.
"Payments?" Then it suddenly hit me with a pang. My heart grew heavy and I clutched my chest. "You can't... You can't do this to her!" I wailed.
"She's my client, I own her!" he yelled at me, pushing the door open, "I can do anything I like!"
I shoved him out of the way. "Leave now!" I forcefully told him.
"Oh yeah? Or what?" he replied.
"Or this!" I said, punching him in the face.
He covered his battered nose with a meaty paw and huffed. "You haven't heard the last of me!" he said, while slowly standing up, wiping the blood off, and heading out the door. I locked it behind him.
How had all this happened? None of it made any sense. It was not like Jo' at all! At least not the Jo' I thought I knew. She used to be such a sweet girl. Kind and fun loving, the kind of girl that made you laugh and smile. She never did drugs. NEVER!
As I looked at her sleeping, I understood she was an addict, forced to prostitution, while someone else got all the money. It just wasn't fair! The whole picture made me sick, sad, but I forced the tears back, Jo' was waking up. Slowly she tried to sit up but couldn't. "Just rest," I told her, "relax."
"Who was that at the door?" she mumbled. "Was that Manny? Who are you? Did Manny want my money?" She coughed.
It got me down to hear that she didn't remember me. It would take time, but I was determined to get her better.
I wanted to bring her home with me, but the truth was, I didn't have a home. Well, not a proper home. I just lived wherever the wind took me. Staying with friends or strangers on the street. Wherever.
Waking up the next day, I hated to leave her, but she needed food and water. I was just afraid that that "Manny" creep would come back while I was gone. I closed the door early that morning and took what little money I had and went to the store. The unwelcome sight of two people having sex at the other end of the hall greeted me as I left, and screams coming from another apartment ratcheted my unease into a whole new level. The whole building gave me the creeps. Everything about it made me shiver.
Down at the corner store I got bottles of clean water and some food. As I lugged the bags of groceries back up to the apartment door I suddenly heard from above, "Who da hell are you!?" from a rather fat and sweaty man.
"James," I shouted, "James McCarson!"
"Oh yeah? No kiddin'!" he yelled. "What da hell do you want!?"
"Just stayin' with Jo," I told the man.
"Who's Jo," he questioned.
"Josephine Henderson of room 418," I replied, a stern look on my face. Like I was going to take HIS crap!
The man fingered me, told me to get lost, and then went back in his apartment. I ignored him. When I arrived up at the apartment, Jo' was up. She was limp and had slung herself over the armchair in front of the television. I turned off the T.V., which got her immediate attention.
"Come on," I said, while lifting her up, "I gotta get some food in you." "I... Don't... Have... Manny's... Money," she muttered under gurgles and drool.
"Forget about Manny," I said to her. "Come on, time to eat." I sat her down at the small table in her pathetic little kitchen and managed to get some food in her, but she just threw it right back up. The drugs had taken their toll. Jo' was sick, very sick.
I got a clear sense that the other tenants didn't like my presence. As though I had disturbed their quiet insanity. The constant smell of stale urine and alcohol in the building was hardly bearable. Coming from the next apartment, I could hear screams, as though ghosts were being let loose, as well as bottles being smashed, and curse words floating on the stingy air.
Weeks went by. It was getting closer to winter now. More leaves were falling off the almost bare trees and colder winds blew. Jo' was going into pretty hard withdrawal. Manny hadn't been heard from since his last, and first, time he was here, two weeks ago. Since then I managed to clean up the apartment a bit, that is, when I was not looking after Jo'. Taking care of her had become a full time job, and between the vomit and blood, a messy one as well. She didn't remember who I was, but at least she had more or less memorized my name.
Thinking about now made me sad. I was usually quite strong, well, stronger than this. Reality can be so shocking. The truth can be so hard and sometimes life can scare you to DEATH.
There is something about determination that can drive you. Just sitting here feeling sorry for her, or myself, wasn’t an option.
Jo' was slowly getting better. "Slowly but surely," as they would say. At points the withdrawal would be so bad she would start shaking.
"James,” she said, facing me, but looking up.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Do you remember when we were younger?" She said "we" - that got my attention.
"What?" I questioned, slowly turning my head.
"What?" she said. And it was gone. That distant look in her eyes faded. I knew it was time.
"Let's take a trip," I told her.
"Where are we going?" asked Jo', as a somewhat excited look spread across her face.
"To our past," I replied, while grabbing her hands and putting them in mine. I looked her straight in the eyes and took a deep breath.
"It was the beginning of the 10th grade, 1965, it was the first year that we met. We were 16. I stressed over our age again, and again.
"We... Were...16," she repeated with little enthusiasm.
"I saw you get off the bus. I walked up to the school doors." She scanned her eyes over the room as I continued to speak. "I walked by you and said 'hi', but you paid little heed. I walked in after you, sighing with hesitation. Thoughts of how chaotic the first day back to school is were pushed out of my mind, your face pressed its image there instead. It was as if I could think of nothing else all day, finding it hard to concentrate on anything! Girls in general never really caught my attention. But you were different. There was something about the way your long, smooth, dirty blond hair fell over your shoulders, and your perfect posture, like you were trying to be better than everyone else by standing straighter, taller. There was something homey about the way you wore your slightly over sized coat.
I noticed the pattern on your shirt. Flowers curled around other flowers, the pattern repeated itself further up, bringing my attention to your fair skinned face. Your comfortable smile brightening up the hallway and lighting your perfect shade of blue eyes with ease. It was as if I had never seen something so ordinarily beautiful before in my entire life. The feelings inside me attempting to belong within this strange host. I had to stop to tie my shoelace, that I had nearly just tripped over, while staring at you.
It was the image of an angel that I had in my head that day. All throughout the school day, I thought of nothing but you. This wasn't at all like me. I had never really been into girls, was more like one of those "wandering minstrel" Types. Just doing my own thing, going wherever the wind took me.
I suppose the wind must have taken me to you, this time, and I was great full for it."
I paused, took a deep breath, "But I'm rambling. Let me get back to the story." I leaned over, kissed 'Jo on the cheek, and continued.
"We didn't appear to have any classes together, but that didn't stop me from thinking about you. I walked home from school, in high spirits, whistling the whole way. I didn't know what your name was, but none of that mattered. Because, at the time, I wasn't to interested in the little details, at least, not until I worked up the nerve to talk to you. The rest of the week went pretty much the same, me getting there just in time to see you get off the bus, felt a happy feeling inside of me, but never actually going up to talk to you. I was fearless, raw, never cared what people thought. But this girl with the rosy pink lips, and the long, dirty blond hair, kind of scared me a bit. It wasn't until three weeks into the school year, that I finally had the guts to talk to her. I saw her standing by her locker, just to the right of the main doors of the school, and down the hall. Noticing the walls, the dingy yellow paint, the green stripes. Our school colors. Noticing anything that wasn't you, as I was to nervous. 'Wait as second' I thought 'I'm tougher than this. I'm a man! I can do this' Even though I felt like my legs had turned to jello. I tried to put on a smile, no... not good enough. I ducked into the bathroom, ran my hands through the tap, and then my hair, trying to make myself look passable. For anything! Maybe, hopefully, a man! I escaped the death-trap of the mirror, and headed out of the washroom. You were standing there, laughing with a couple girls from our grade, but you said goodbye, and they walked away. I took this as my cue. I walked on over to you, well, near you anyway. You didn't look up. I cleared my throat! You turned around, your hair flipping over your left shoulder. You gave me a puzzled look.
"Yes?" You said, confused, "Can I help you?" I just stood there, like an idiot. Finally I spoke.
"Hi." Why was this so hard? "You're new here, aren't you?" Now was that really so difficult?
"Yeah. Hi, I am new." You had the voice of an angel. My legs turned to jello again. "My name is Josephine" She motioned to me. I stared.
"Oh!" I replied, trying to stand tall. "I'm James." Phew... I must have looked so nervous. "James McCarson."
"Nice to meet you, James. I have to get to class. See you around?" You walked away, flipping your hair over your shoulder again.
"Yeah... Around!" I shouted and waved down the hallway like an idiot! I felt so stupid, but at the same time, so good, because I had finally talked to you. This strange angel of the school. It was like I was obsessed!
I saw Jo' staring at me, now paying more attention. "The first time we talked... Hrm..." Said Jo' sounding like she was more interested now.
"As time went on, we talked more and more. Slowly we became friends. We hung out, shared music we liked, talked on the phone for hours, went to movies together. I knew you were something different. I couldn't figure out what it was.
Danny Carleton wanted to fight me. I knew I was strong enough to beat him, but you kept saying, "WHY!? Why do you have to fight him, there must be a better way." You had a good kind heart. You didn't want to hurt even a fly. So respectfully declined. He provoked me, but I just say "No thank you."
"When did you get so polite?" He said in mock. "Chicken." I stood my ground. He beat me up. You told me I did the right thing.
Heaven knows WHY I did this for a girl... What could make me do this...
'You're an angel, you're such a sweetheart. So kind. So nice. So caring. So loving... Wait!' I thought 'That's it!' Something inside me told me that this was love. That I was in love with you. These things somehow creep up on you unawares! I didn't understand. I NEVER understood these things. But from that point on, I knew I just HAD to have you. But as more than friends. I wanted our two souls to intertwine in such a way that the very roots of who we were would start to grow together. Our very beings would become one for eternity. I was thinking like a deranged poet. This wasn't realistic. You would never fall in love with me"
"In love with me?" She drooled a little, a slight look of surprise in her eyes. I wiped it off, then contemplated as to whether or not I should go into more detail about the year we met, or skip ahead. A siren wailed far off in the distance.
I continued.
"I did everything short of actually telling you that I was in love with you. Nothing worked. I thought it was hopeless. I gave up trying, and just accepted that we were going to be nothing more than friends. And we were. Good friends. We hung out, just as good friends should. But it bugged me more and more every day that that is all I would ever be.
We had known each other for about 4 months now. I skipped classes, I smoke, and you hated it! One day, you came up to me, tears in your eyes. We told each other everything. No secrets, no lies, the way it should be. But obviously you forgot to mention the guy you were seeing. At first I wanted to help you, I grabbed you by your wrists and pulled you closer to me, then, suddenly, pushed you away.
"No!" I yelled. "You kept this secret from me! And I thought we said, 'no secrets'!"
"This is stupid" You were very angry. "It's one little secret."
"Just go, I don't want to be your friend if you're gonna keep secrets from me! Just GO!" My anger back then was a lot worse than it is now. I now know how to fuel it in the right direction.
You ran out of the room crying. I pushed you away from more than just the moment. I pushed you out of my life, we grew apart, it lasted till almost the end of the school year, and I was miserable the whole time. I longed to apologize to you many times. I ached every single time I saw you in the hall, walked by you on the street. I even had to plan a route around town, just to avoid your normal hang out spots. You had other friends now. It seemed as though you had all but forgotten me.
It wasn't until about 2 weeks before the end of our grade 10 year that we spoke again. I walked by you in the hall. You at your locker, me, my head down.
"James, wait..." You said meekly. I lifted my head and looked in your direction. I wanted to say so much, yet, at the same time, wanted to keep walking down the hall, ignoring you. I did neither. I stopped, but looked away.
"James," you spoke in a soft, almost worried voice. Yes, seems to me you sounded worried. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for this silence to go on for so long. I wish there was some way, some way at ALL that you could forgive me." I almost believed you. Almost thought you were telling the truth. I listened closely to the tone of your voice. One ear perked up while me head, still turned away, slowly turned, and our eyes met. I wanted to run, but I knew that what I wanted more than anything was to be friends again. I smiled, softly, then went to speak.
"I... I lo... I would love to be friends again." I didn't know what to do next, didn't know what to say. You came forward and gave me the biggest hug imaginable. Seems to me you were almost as happy as I was. Not quite, but almost. School ended, and we promised to hang out in the summer. You invited me up to your grandparents cabin on the lake. I said I would think about it, and, if not, I would see you when you got back.
Summer was extra hot, and then autumn came. It was kind of an Indian summer. The kind so as the sun and warmth continue on for almost another month, the leaves still turning brown, the hot sun drying them out. School started up again. You had joined the writing club and school paper right away, and told me I should join too. I said the only writing I did was a few random poems. Whatever I wanted. I didn't need to conform to any club. Seems to me it annoyed you a little, but you just smiled, giggled, and mussed up my hair. Then ran down the hall to class. I knew my next poem was going to be about you. I got out my notebook, found a tree outside, and wrote. In fact, I wrote three whole pages. Three whole pages all about you. And I could have written 300 more. I could say you were sort of my muse. My inspiration.
Leaves fell from the trees like mustache trimmings from an old man shaving. As each day passed that school year I grew more and more in love with you. I never dared tell you how I felt, for fear of rejection, and because I felt as thought you only thought of me as a friend. And I didn't want to mess up our friendship again. I tried my very best to just be there for you as much as I could. I remember late that November, while we were out walking one evening, the snow falling slowly around us, you turned to me, snow gathering on your hair and eyelashes as we stopped. You turned to me and said,
"James, you're the best friend I've ever had in my entire life. Thank you for everything." You grabbed my hand, we kept walking. I tried hard to not cry. Playing the few small tears coming from the corners of my eyes as melting snow.
Over the course of the next year you had a couple of boyfriends, but none panned out. There was always something. The first, Rob, seemed good enough, but it turned out that he was only after one thing. That only lasted to weeks. But the one I remember most was Michael. Michael was sweet, caring, and he treated you well, he was a senior, he liked to paint and write. I was so happy to see you full of so much joy and to be so carefree. The two of you were together for 5 months before he broke it off, stating that he had found someone else. You were so heartbroken. I will never forget the day that you came to me, crying. When I asked what happened and you told me, shaking, I held you tighter than ever before.
"Shhhhh." I said. "Do not worry, it will all be okay."
"James..." You replied, trailing off. "Why can't I find a guy like you. I almost feel as if it is impossible." I looked down, still holding you, while trying to hold myself together. I would have given anything to tell you everything right then and there. To pour all my feelings out. But something stopped me. Was it the same stuff as before? Or was there new baggage, new reasons that I could not tell you? Perhaps it was that I was disgusted with myself, and who I was. I didn't think to highly of myself, and thought you would never want me."
After weeks and weeks of food, water, and storytelling, memories flowing out of my head and mouth like a waterfall into a pond below, Jo was beginning to look a lot better. That night I continued. Jo, still awake, slid her head on my shoulder, while my hands still held hers. I continued talking.
"You pushed me to do things that I didn't think possible for myself. I figured that school was a waste of time, that I would never be good enough, but you encouraged me to do more, to work harder, told me that I was smarter than I thought, pushed me to finish. And next spring we graduated together. I remember the day so well. You offered to take me out for milkshakes after, hugged me. Even I was proud of myself. I smiled as I heard our principal, and audience yell out a congratulations to the graduating class of 1968. You told me that you had gotten accepted to Northern State University for the journalism program, and I smiled so big, congratulating you as much as I could. I remember the small pain in my heart, knowing that you were going over 500 miles away. But I knew you'd be great at it! You asked me if I had heard back from any of the colleges that I'd applied to, and I said a few, but was unsure what to do. I had no money for college. I had no parents to pay for things for me. I worked at a lumber yard in my spare time just to be able to afford the small basement I was renting. I could barely afford the $200 rent that I way paying.
We spent much of the summer together, wanting to get in every last moment we could with one another before you went off to university. Summer was nearly over. But with tears forming in your eyes you packed up the rest of the tings in your car, and drove off, promising to write me.
"I'll write you every week." I shouted, as your car drove off down the street.
At first, we kept in contact often. I received letters from you about every week or two, stating how much busier university was, how much harder the work was, and how much fun you were having. You wrote to me one time about a guy you had started seeing who was a local DJ for the university, and also in the journalism program. Slowly the letters came less and less, until about a year later when they stopped all together. I waited, nothing. I waited some more, assuming that you had just been swept up by college life. By January of 1970 I was really beginning to worry. I wanted to come see you, find out what had happened. I packed up my sack, and started walking, hitchhiking where I could get picked up. I finally arrived 2 days later, and tried to find your last known address, a resident building on campus. I walked around the building asking if anyone had seen you, if anyone knew you. After many replying no, I finally found a girl who said that you had moved in to a small apartment with this guy you were dating. She gave me the address. When I arrived at your building I got no answer. The manager let me in and asked me what he could do for me, and I told him that I was looking for you. He said that you hadn't live there in over 2 months, and that worried me. I left, grabbing a newspaper from a guy on the street corner. I saw reports of young women disappearing, and hoped to god that you weren't one of them.
After 6 months straight of looking for you, fueling all the money and time that I could into it, I all but gave up. Finding no trace of you anywhere, as though you had vanished. Figuring you for dead, I hit the road again. I spend the next 5 years wandering the country. Walking here, hitchhiking there. Hopping trains when I could, working odd jobs in odd cities for odd people, hoping to make a few bucks. Every woman I saw was you. They all had your face, your hair, your eyes. Every night that I slept I dreamt of you. Your image cascading in many forms across my mind.
Jo needed rest, I put her down and told her that we would continue one day soon. A few more weeks went by, and things were looking up.
"Are you ready to hear the rest?" I spoke, as I grabbed her hand.
"Yes, James. Please finish." Her eyes lighting up in a way I hadn't seen since coming here.
"And then, one day, I ended up in this little town. I was lonely, felt like I'd lost my soul. My heart. What use were they to me now, since you faded away? I got down on my knees one night, kneeling in the middle of the street, and yelled out your name as loud as I could.
"JOSEPHINE CAMILLE HENDERSON!" I cried into the damp night. "WHY! WHY! THIS ISN'T FAIR..." I was cut off, tears rolling down my cheeks as if dew rolling off the petals of the rose in the early morning sun. A man opened a window to an apartment above a cafe, and yelled out,
"Hey, you! It's 4 in the morning!"
"I..." I was shaking. "I'm sorry, Sir." Choking my words out.
"You looking for Ms Camille?" He yelled back.
"I... who?" I spurted out the words, confused. "Is that what she goes by these days?" I questioned, getting more and more excited that perhaps I had finally found her.
"That's the name I know her by, and she's one helluva woman!" He laughed, a laugh so greasy and disgusting that I couldn't help but cringe. He then told me where I could find here, and how much she charged. Shocked, I thanked the man as he closed his window. I sat down on a bench, thought, thought for 2 hours until the sun came up. And then, then I walked through the morning fog and came here. I came up to your dingy building and now I know why I came to this little town. To rescue you, Josephine. To rescue you." I whispered those last words in her ear, as I placed her hand gently down on my lap.
"James!" Jo cried out, her eyes getting wet. She just couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears poured out as she spoke, getting more and more excited by the second.
I felt as though I was about to break down and cry, myself, but held it together, just barely.
There was a moment of silence that seemed to last forever. My heart was racing, my breath was short, and my eyes were tired. I tried to relax, slowly looking up to face Jo.
"James! James! It IS you! It IS! It really is! James. I.... I..." She came forth and hugged me, wrapping her arms around me like the vines that adorned the building, nearly knocking me over in the process. There was no tension filling the silence of that moment. The room was full of something else, another feeling, an unexplainable feeling. But the feeling was good. Josephine removed her arms from my back, wiping her eyes as she sat back down across from me.
She went to speak but could utter no words. Jo took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
"I love you" She spoke softly, almost whispering, a huge smile making its way across her face, looking better than she ever had since first I arrived. "I love you."
I went up the cement steps and tapped on the door, not quite fully on it's hinges. It opened slowly, creaking a low sound of protest. A blast of warm, smelly air hit me, knocking me back. Dirt ran up and down the walls, and I noticed rats crawling all around, and lot's of flies.
Making my way to the elevator, I could hear crashes, screams, then all was quiet. The elevator was slow to come. Finally it arrived, the doors opened slowly, and I stepped inside. The elevator smelled of sweat and used condoms littered the floor. I pushed number 4, trying not to gag the whole way up. When I finally reached the 4th floor, the doors opened and I stood there in shock. Ripped wallpaper, dingy old photos, as well as dried blood hung from the walls. A black cat growled and hissed at me as I walked down the hallway. I heard she lived in room 418, and when I got there, I knocked. Nothing. I wondered how she ended up in such a place? I knocked again. Still no answer.
I slowly turned the handle and walked in. When I entered the apartment, I saw her lying limp in an old armchair. She was pale and looked lifeless.
"JOSEPHINE!?" I ran over to her and clutched her hand, feeling her wrist for a pulse. She was hopped up on drugs, and lots of them. I'd seen it before; It wasn't pretty.
She gurgled, looked at me, then said, "Manny, I..." She couldn't finish. She bent over and threw up. Coming up was bile. She clearly couldn't throw up food. It looked like she hadn't eaten anything in weeks.
"It's okay!" I said, as tears started to well up in my eyes. Mainly from the pure disgust of the situation, and the fact that It had just been far to long. "I'm here now." I hugged her.
I went to go draw a bath for her, but the water came out brown, though it soon cleared. Once it was drawn, I lifted her up as she hobbled along. I set her in the bath and washed her, noticing with some relief that her color was starting to come back. But not much.
I was sure she wouldn't remember me, but I thought the mention of my name might help. I pulled Jo' out of the bath; remembering when I used to call her Jo'. She always told me to stop. More tears ran down my cheeks and I wiped them off.
"It's me, James. James? You remember me?" Her eyes opened wide, then shut closed fast. She draped herself over my shoulders, and that was the first time I really realized she was naked. I set Jo' down on the broken toilet seat and examined her. She looked terrible. Ribs sticking out, hair mated down, her whole body pale. Dressing her, laying her down on her bed, I vowed to stay with her till she got better, no matter HOW long it took.
I sat there, watching her sleep.
A short while later, I was startled by a knock on the door.
"Who are you!?" A tall, tan man with golden hair and a scar on his neck questioned rather firmly. Before I even had a chance to open my mouth he continued, "What're you doing here!?"
"Why do you want to know!?" I asked, looking at him with inquisitive eyes.
"It's my business to know!" said the man, his black suit and bright green tie making him look a little strange, kind or douchey in fact.
"What do you want!?" I said, glaring at him.
"I'm here to collect from Josephine!" he told me, "she's my client."
"Jo's sleeping!" I forced the words on him. "She can't see anyone right now."
"She's behind on her payments!" He told me.
"Payments?" Then it suddenly hit me with a pang. My heart grew heavy and I clutched my chest. "You can't... You can't do this to her!" I wailed.
"She's my client, I own her!" he yelled at me, pushing the door open, "I can do anything I like!"
I shoved him out of the way. "Leave now!" I forcefully told him.
"Oh yeah? Or what?" he replied.
"Or this!" I said, punching him in the face.
He covered his battered nose with a meaty paw and huffed. "You haven't heard the last of me!" he said, while slowly standing up, wiping the blood off, and heading out the door. I locked it behind him.
How had all this happened? None of it made any sense. It was not like Jo' at all! At least not the Jo' I thought I knew. She used to be such a sweet girl. Kind and fun loving, the kind of girl that made you laugh and smile. She never did drugs. NEVER!
As I looked at her sleeping, I understood she was an addict, forced to prostitution, while someone else got all the money. It just wasn't fair! The whole picture made me sick, sad, but I forced the tears back, Jo' was waking up. Slowly she tried to sit up but couldn't. "Just rest," I told her, "relax."
"Who was that at the door?" she mumbled. "Was that Manny? Who are you? Did Manny want my money?" She coughed.
It got me down to hear that she didn't remember me. It would take time, but I was determined to get her better.
I wanted to bring her home with me, but the truth was, I didn't have a home. Well, not a proper home. I just lived wherever the wind took me. Staying with friends or strangers on the street. Wherever.
Waking up the next day, I hated to leave her, but she needed food and water. I was just afraid that that "Manny" creep would come back while I was gone. I closed the door early that morning and took what little money I had and went to the store. The unwelcome sight of two people having sex at the other end of the hall greeted me as I left, and screams coming from another apartment ratcheted my unease into a whole new level. The whole building gave me the creeps. Everything about it made me shiver.
Down at the corner store I got bottles of clean water and some food. As I lugged the bags of groceries back up to the apartment door I suddenly heard from above, "Who da hell are you!?" from a rather fat and sweaty man.
"James," I shouted, "James McCarson!"
"Oh yeah? No kiddin'!" he yelled. "What da hell do you want!?"
"Just stayin' with Jo," I told the man.
"Who's Jo," he questioned.
"Josephine Henderson of room 418," I replied, a stern look on my face. Like I was going to take HIS crap!
The man fingered me, told me to get lost, and then went back in his apartment. I ignored him. When I arrived up at the apartment, Jo' was up. She was limp and had slung herself over the armchair in front of the television. I turned off the T.V., which got her immediate attention.
"Come on," I said, while lifting her up, "I gotta get some food in you." "I... Don't... Have... Manny's... Money," she muttered under gurgles and drool.
"Forget about Manny," I said to her. "Come on, time to eat." I sat her down at the small table in her pathetic little kitchen and managed to get some food in her, but she just threw it right back up. The drugs had taken their toll. Jo' was sick, very sick.
I got a clear sense that the other tenants didn't like my presence. As though I had disturbed their quiet insanity. The constant smell of stale urine and alcohol in the building was hardly bearable. Coming from the next apartment, I could hear screams, as though ghosts were being let loose, as well as bottles being smashed, and curse words floating on the stingy air.
Weeks went by. It was getting closer to winter now. More leaves were falling off the almost bare trees and colder winds blew. Jo' was going into pretty hard withdrawal. Manny hadn't been heard from since his last, and first, time he was here, two weeks ago. Since then I managed to clean up the apartment a bit, that is, when I was not looking after Jo'. Taking care of her had become a full time job, and between the vomit and blood, a messy one as well. She didn't remember who I was, but at least she had more or less memorized my name.
Thinking about now made me sad. I was usually quite strong, well, stronger than this. Reality can be so shocking. The truth can be so hard and sometimes life can scare you to DEATH.
There is something about determination that can drive you. Just sitting here feeling sorry for her, or myself, wasn’t an option.
Jo' was slowly getting better. "Slowly but surely," as they would say. At points the withdrawal would be so bad she would start shaking.
"James,” she said, facing me, but looking up.
"Yes?" I replied.
"Do you remember when we were younger?" She said "we" - that got my attention.
"What?" I questioned, slowly turning my head.
"What?" she said. And it was gone. That distant look in her eyes faded. I knew it was time.
"Let's take a trip," I told her.
"Where are we going?" asked Jo', as a somewhat excited look spread across her face.
"To our past," I replied, while grabbing her hands and putting them in mine. I looked her straight in the eyes and took a deep breath.
"It was the beginning of the 10th grade, 1965, it was the first year that we met. We were 16. I stressed over our age again, and again.
"We... Were...16," she repeated with little enthusiasm.
"I saw you get off the bus. I walked up to the school doors." She scanned her eyes over the room as I continued to speak. "I walked by you and said 'hi', but you paid little heed. I walked in after you, sighing with hesitation. Thoughts of how chaotic the first day back to school is were pushed out of my mind, your face pressed its image there instead. It was as if I could think of nothing else all day, finding it hard to concentrate on anything! Girls in general never really caught my attention. But you were different. There was something about the way your long, smooth, dirty blond hair fell over your shoulders, and your perfect posture, like you were trying to be better than everyone else by standing straighter, taller. There was something homey about the way you wore your slightly over sized coat.
I noticed the pattern on your shirt. Flowers curled around other flowers, the pattern repeated itself further up, bringing my attention to your fair skinned face. Your comfortable smile brightening up the hallway and lighting your perfect shade of blue eyes with ease. It was as if I had never seen something so ordinarily beautiful before in my entire life. The feelings inside me attempting to belong within this strange host. I had to stop to tie my shoelace, that I had nearly just tripped over, while staring at you.
It was the image of an angel that I had in my head that day. All throughout the school day, I thought of nothing but you. This wasn't at all like me. I had never really been into girls, was more like one of those "wandering minstrel" Types. Just doing my own thing, going wherever the wind took me.
I suppose the wind must have taken me to you, this time, and I was great full for it."
I paused, took a deep breath, "But I'm rambling. Let me get back to the story." I leaned over, kissed 'Jo on the cheek, and continued.
"We didn't appear to have any classes together, but that didn't stop me from thinking about you. I walked home from school, in high spirits, whistling the whole way. I didn't know what your name was, but none of that mattered. Because, at the time, I wasn't to interested in the little details, at least, not until I worked up the nerve to talk to you. The rest of the week went pretty much the same, me getting there just in time to see you get off the bus, felt a happy feeling inside of me, but never actually going up to talk to you. I was fearless, raw, never cared what people thought. But this girl with the rosy pink lips, and the long, dirty blond hair, kind of scared me a bit. It wasn't until three weeks into the school year, that I finally had the guts to talk to her. I saw her standing by her locker, just to the right of the main doors of the school, and down the hall. Noticing the walls, the dingy yellow paint, the green stripes. Our school colors. Noticing anything that wasn't you, as I was to nervous. 'Wait as second' I thought 'I'm tougher than this. I'm a man! I can do this' Even though I felt like my legs had turned to jello. I tried to put on a smile, no... not good enough. I ducked into the bathroom, ran my hands through the tap, and then my hair, trying to make myself look passable. For anything! Maybe, hopefully, a man! I escaped the death-trap of the mirror, and headed out of the washroom. You were standing there, laughing with a couple girls from our grade, but you said goodbye, and they walked away. I took this as my cue. I walked on over to you, well, near you anyway. You didn't look up. I cleared my throat! You turned around, your hair flipping over your left shoulder. You gave me a puzzled look.
"Yes?" You said, confused, "Can I help you?" I just stood there, like an idiot. Finally I spoke.
"Hi." Why was this so hard? "You're new here, aren't you?" Now was that really so difficult?
"Yeah. Hi, I am new." You had the voice of an angel. My legs turned to jello again. "My name is Josephine" She motioned to me. I stared.
"Oh!" I replied, trying to stand tall. "I'm James." Phew... I must have looked so nervous. "James McCarson."
"Nice to meet you, James. I have to get to class. See you around?" You walked away, flipping your hair over your shoulder again.
"Yeah... Around!" I shouted and waved down the hallway like an idiot! I felt so stupid, but at the same time, so good, because I had finally talked to you. This strange angel of the school. It was like I was obsessed!
I saw Jo' staring at me, now paying more attention. "The first time we talked... Hrm..." Said Jo' sounding like she was more interested now.
"As time went on, we talked more and more. Slowly we became friends. We hung out, shared music we liked, talked on the phone for hours, went to movies together. I knew you were something different. I couldn't figure out what it was.
Danny Carleton wanted to fight me. I knew I was strong enough to beat him, but you kept saying, "WHY!? Why do you have to fight him, there must be a better way." You had a good kind heart. You didn't want to hurt even a fly. So respectfully declined. He provoked me, but I just say "No thank you."
"When did you get so polite?" He said in mock. "Chicken." I stood my ground. He beat me up. You told me I did the right thing.
Heaven knows WHY I did this for a girl... What could make me do this...
'You're an angel, you're such a sweetheart. So kind. So nice. So caring. So loving... Wait!' I thought 'That's it!' Something inside me told me that this was love. That I was in love with you. These things somehow creep up on you unawares! I didn't understand. I NEVER understood these things. But from that point on, I knew I just HAD to have you. But as more than friends. I wanted our two souls to intertwine in such a way that the very roots of who we were would start to grow together. Our very beings would become one for eternity. I was thinking like a deranged poet. This wasn't realistic. You would never fall in love with me"
"In love with me?" She drooled a little, a slight look of surprise in her eyes. I wiped it off, then contemplated as to whether or not I should go into more detail about the year we met, or skip ahead. A siren wailed far off in the distance.
I continued.
"I did everything short of actually telling you that I was in love with you. Nothing worked. I thought it was hopeless. I gave up trying, and just accepted that we were going to be nothing more than friends. And we were. Good friends. We hung out, just as good friends should. But it bugged me more and more every day that that is all I would ever be.
We had known each other for about 4 months now. I skipped classes, I smoke, and you hated it! One day, you came up to me, tears in your eyes. We told each other everything. No secrets, no lies, the way it should be. But obviously you forgot to mention the guy you were seeing. At first I wanted to help you, I grabbed you by your wrists and pulled you closer to me, then, suddenly, pushed you away.
"No!" I yelled. "You kept this secret from me! And I thought we said, 'no secrets'!"
"This is stupid" You were very angry. "It's one little secret."
"Just go, I don't want to be your friend if you're gonna keep secrets from me! Just GO!" My anger back then was a lot worse than it is now. I now know how to fuel it in the right direction.
You ran out of the room crying. I pushed you away from more than just the moment. I pushed you out of my life, we grew apart, it lasted till almost the end of the school year, and I was miserable the whole time. I longed to apologize to you many times. I ached every single time I saw you in the hall, walked by you on the street. I even had to plan a route around town, just to avoid your normal hang out spots. You had other friends now. It seemed as though you had all but forgotten me.
It wasn't until about 2 weeks before the end of our grade 10 year that we spoke again. I walked by you in the hall. You at your locker, me, my head down.
"James, wait..." You said meekly. I lifted my head and looked in your direction. I wanted to say so much, yet, at the same time, wanted to keep walking down the hall, ignoring you. I did neither. I stopped, but looked away.
"James," you spoke in a soft, almost worried voice. Yes, seems to me you sounded worried. "I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for this silence to go on for so long. I wish there was some way, some way at ALL that you could forgive me." I almost believed you. Almost thought you were telling the truth. I listened closely to the tone of your voice. One ear perked up while me head, still turned away, slowly turned, and our eyes met. I wanted to run, but I knew that what I wanted more than anything was to be friends again. I smiled, softly, then went to speak.
"I... I lo... I would love to be friends again." I didn't know what to do next, didn't know what to say. You came forward and gave me the biggest hug imaginable. Seems to me you were almost as happy as I was. Not quite, but almost. School ended, and we promised to hang out in the summer. You invited me up to your grandparents cabin on the lake. I said I would think about it, and, if not, I would see you when you got back.
Summer was extra hot, and then autumn came. It was kind of an Indian summer. The kind so as the sun and warmth continue on for almost another month, the leaves still turning brown, the hot sun drying them out. School started up again. You had joined the writing club and school paper right away, and told me I should join too. I said the only writing I did was a few random poems. Whatever I wanted. I didn't need to conform to any club. Seems to me it annoyed you a little, but you just smiled, giggled, and mussed up my hair. Then ran down the hall to class. I knew my next poem was going to be about you. I got out my notebook, found a tree outside, and wrote. In fact, I wrote three whole pages. Three whole pages all about you. And I could have written 300 more. I could say you were sort of my muse. My inspiration.
Leaves fell from the trees like mustache trimmings from an old man shaving. As each day passed that school year I grew more and more in love with you. I never dared tell you how I felt, for fear of rejection, and because I felt as thought you only thought of me as a friend. And I didn't want to mess up our friendship again. I tried my very best to just be there for you as much as I could. I remember late that November, while we were out walking one evening, the snow falling slowly around us, you turned to me, snow gathering on your hair and eyelashes as we stopped. You turned to me and said,
"James, you're the best friend I've ever had in my entire life. Thank you for everything." You grabbed my hand, we kept walking. I tried hard to not cry. Playing the few small tears coming from the corners of my eyes as melting snow.
Over the course of the next year you had a couple of boyfriends, but none panned out. There was always something. The first, Rob, seemed good enough, but it turned out that he was only after one thing. That only lasted to weeks. But the one I remember most was Michael. Michael was sweet, caring, and he treated you well, he was a senior, he liked to paint and write. I was so happy to see you full of so much joy and to be so carefree. The two of you were together for 5 months before he broke it off, stating that he had found someone else. You were so heartbroken. I will never forget the day that you came to me, crying. When I asked what happened and you told me, shaking, I held you tighter than ever before.
"Shhhhh." I said. "Do not worry, it will all be okay."
"James..." You replied, trailing off. "Why can't I find a guy like you. I almost feel as if it is impossible." I looked down, still holding you, while trying to hold myself together. I would have given anything to tell you everything right then and there. To pour all my feelings out. But something stopped me. Was it the same stuff as before? Or was there new baggage, new reasons that I could not tell you? Perhaps it was that I was disgusted with myself, and who I was. I didn't think to highly of myself, and thought you would never want me."
After weeks and weeks of food, water, and storytelling, memories flowing out of my head and mouth like a waterfall into a pond below, Jo was beginning to look a lot better. That night I continued. Jo, still awake, slid her head on my shoulder, while my hands still held hers. I continued talking.
"You pushed me to do things that I didn't think possible for myself. I figured that school was a waste of time, that I would never be good enough, but you encouraged me to do more, to work harder, told me that I was smarter than I thought, pushed me to finish. And next spring we graduated together. I remember the day so well. You offered to take me out for milkshakes after, hugged me. Even I was proud of myself. I smiled as I heard our principal, and audience yell out a congratulations to the graduating class of 1968. You told me that you had gotten accepted to Northern State University for the journalism program, and I smiled so big, congratulating you as much as I could. I remember the small pain in my heart, knowing that you were going over 500 miles away. But I knew you'd be great at it! You asked me if I had heard back from any of the colleges that I'd applied to, and I said a few, but was unsure what to do. I had no money for college. I had no parents to pay for things for me. I worked at a lumber yard in my spare time just to be able to afford the small basement I was renting. I could barely afford the $200 rent that I way paying.
We spent much of the summer together, wanting to get in every last moment we could with one another before you went off to university. Summer was nearly over. But with tears forming in your eyes you packed up the rest of the tings in your car, and drove off, promising to write me.
"I'll write you every week." I shouted, as your car drove off down the street.
At first, we kept in contact often. I received letters from you about every week or two, stating how much busier university was, how much harder the work was, and how much fun you were having. You wrote to me one time about a guy you had started seeing who was a local DJ for the university, and also in the journalism program. Slowly the letters came less and less, until about a year later when they stopped all together. I waited, nothing. I waited some more, assuming that you had just been swept up by college life. By January of 1970 I was really beginning to worry. I wanted to come see you, find out what had happened. I packed up my sack, and started walking, hitchhiking where I could get picked up. I finally arrived 2 days later, and tried to find your last known address, a resident building on campus. I walked around the building asking if anyone had seen you, if anyone knew you. After many replying no, I finally found a girl who said that you had moved in to a small apartment with this guy you were dating. She gave me the address. When I arrived at your building I got no answer. The manager let me in and asked me what he could do for me, and I told him that I was looking for you. He said that you hadn't live there in over 2 months, and that worried me. I left, grabbing a newspaper from a guy on the street corner. I saw reports of young women disappearing, and hoped to god that you weren't one of them.
After 6 months straight of looking for you, fueling all the money and time that I could into it, I all but gave up. Finding no trace of you anywhere, as though you had vanished. Figuring you for dead, I hit the road again. I spend the next 5 years wandering the country. Walking here, hitchhiking there. Hopping trains when I could, working odd jobs in odd cities for odd people, hoping to make a few bucks. Every woman I saw was you. They all had your face, your hair, your eyes. Every night that I slept I dreamt of you. Your image cascading in many forms across my mind.
Jo needed rest, I put her down and told her that we would continue one day soon. A few more weeks went by, and things were looking up.
"Are you ready to hear the rest?" I spoke, as I grabbed her hand.
"Yes, James. Please finish." Her eyes lighting up in a way I hadn't seen since coming here.
"And then, one day, I ended up in this little town. I was lonely, felt like I'd lost my soul. My heart. What use were they to me now, since you faded away? I got down on my knees one night, kneeling in the middle of the street, and yelled out your name as loud as I could.
"JOSEPHINE CAMILLE HENDERSON!" I cried into the damp night. "WHY! WHY! THIS ISN'T FAIR..." I was cut off, tears rolling down my cheeks as if dew rolling off the petals of the rose in the early morning sun. A man opened a window to an apartment above a cafe, and yelled out,
"Hey, you! It's 4 in the morning!"
"I..." I was shaking. "I'm sorry, Sir." Choking my words out.
"You looking for Ms Camille?" He yelled back.
"I... who?" I spurted out the words, confused. "Is that what she goes by these days?" I questioned, getting more and more excited that perhaps I had finally found her.
"That's the name I know her by, and she's one helluva woman!" He laughed, a laugh so greasy and disgusting that I couldn't help but cringe. He then told me where I could find here, and how much she charged. Shocked, I thanked the man as he closed his window. I sat down on a bench, thought, thought for 2 hours until the sun came up. And then, then I walked through the morning fog and came here. I came up to your dingy building and now I know why I came to this little town. To rescue you, Josephine. To rescue you." I whispered those last words in her ear, as I placed her hand gently down on my lap.
"James!" Jo cried out, her eyes getting wet. She just couldn't hold it in anymore. Tears poured out as she spoke, getting more and more excited by the second.
I felt as though I was about to break down and cry, myself, but held it together, just barely.
There was a moment of silence that seemed to last forever. My heart was racing, my breath was short, and my eyes were tired. I tried to relax, slowly looking up to face Jo.
"James! James! It IS you! It IS! It really is! James. I.... I..." She came forth and hugged me, wrapping her arms around me like the vines that adorned the building, nearly knocking me over in the process. There was no tension filling the silence of that moment. The room was full of something else, another feeling, an unexplainable feeling. But the feeling was good. Josephine removed her arms from my back, wiping her eyes as she sat back down across from me.
She went to speak but could utter no words. Jo took a deep breath and opened her mouth.
"I love you" She spoke softly, almost whispering, a huge smile making its way across her face, looking better than she ever had since first I arrived. "I love you."
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