Part VI
Robinson walked to his apartment. He looked at his watch and saw it was 9:15. He still had some time before he could head over to the Alibi to meet with Paul.
Arriving at his door Robinson jammed the key into the lock and shook the door handle, a result of years of wear that sometimes left him locked out. The lock was jammed and Robinson frustratingly continued to work the key and the handle in hopes of getting the lock to work. As he worked on the lock he heard an angry voice across the way.
She slammed the door behind her looking seriously pissed off. Her name was Emily Bowe. Emily had lived in the complex for the last 6 months, all of which were spent having a boyfriend. Robinson had never said a word to her before, only noticed how beautiful she was and it only made him feel worse because he could never talk to such a girl like her.
As Robinson continued to try to get in his place, he looked back as Emily stood on the front patio. Emily had put the phone between her head and her shoulder as she lit up a cigarette.
“I was suppose to be at work a half hour ago,” She yelled into the phone as she blew smoke into the night air ”Yeah, well you are seriously fucking this up for me. I can’t wait that long for you to be here. No, no listen to me, be here in 20 minutes or its over.”
Emily looked up and saw Robinson looking at her. She flicked away the cigarette and flipped him off once she had a free hand. She began her way back inside “Fine! Fine! You have a wonderful night with your friends, but don’t come around here-” The door slammed behind her and the sliding glass door muffled the venom she gave to the person on the other end of the phone.
Robinson turned his attention back to his door and with a little finesse was able to open the door. He flipped on the lights and looked around his small, cramped apartment. He took off his jacket and put it upon a chair he picked up from the Salvation Army for nine dollars. He went into his room and opened up the small college style refrigerator and got the carton of orange juice. He shook it and felt a swallows worth inside the carton. He eyeballed the inside and once he deemed it worthy drank a tiny sip before carrying it off into the living room.
It was odd, but he felt something was off in the living room. He looked around, but in such an empty room he could not detect anything; especially the small video device sticking out from underneath the carpet that Barkley had planted earlier on in the day throughout the apartment. The wire looked like a random thread from the carpet, but had the ability to pick up visuals in the living room sounds throughout the apartment. Out in the car, Barkley watched Robinson take a a sip of his orange juice as he scanned the room. Robinson even stared for a moment in the direction of the thread, but continued about the room. Barkley slipped on a pari of gloves, while he watched the scene in the living room unfold.
Robinson gave up and sat down at his desk. He pulled a small string that illuminated the desk as he turned on his typewriter. He fed a sheet of paper into the typewriter and adjusted it just so. He arched his back and put his fingers on the keys. He lightly tapped the keys, pondering what to write. His eyes shifted over to a picture of his parents that sat just underneath the lamp. He stopped tapping and picked up the picture.
Unlike the picture he saw on Captain Ron’s desk, this one was tougher to look at; this was the last picture he ever took with his parents on the last day anyone ever saw them. That was five years ago, four and half of those years saw Robinson obsessed with his parents mysterious disappearance. He had looked at the police records, talked to all eye witnesses, suspects, police leads and leads he had found on his own; all of which came out to nothing. Just an empty Lincoln Town car off the interstate that was burned to ashes; no trace or evidence of his parents being involved in foul play or an accident. All roads led to a dead end. Robinson knew them all because he had investigated each one thoroughly; that is until Captain Ron stepped in and stopped him from doing so. His parents, both detectives, had made plenty of enemies in their time and Capatin Ron did not want Robinson to turn up any of those enemies, which were numerous, who had a vendetta against Robinson’s parents.
The words of Wayne crept into his head, “But that is a story for another day.”
The rap at the door broke him of his trance. He put the photo down and walked over to the door. He was surprised upon opening the door.
It was Emily.
She stood there in the doorway, the light of living room providing a light that captured half of her, while the other half was cloaked in darkness.
She smiled shyly at him through the darkness. His thoughts of his parents evaporated with the smile. For the second time today, Robinson has been seduced by a smile.
“Hi,” Robinson chirped, catching the excitement in his face upon seeing her, which made him wish that he were outside protected by the dark.
Emily stepped forward into the light. Her blue eyes sparkled and Robinson caught a scent of her hair as she stepped past him and into the apartment. He breathed in again trying to recapture that smell and lock it into his memory forever. She was beautiful. And most importantly she was in his place.
“I’m sorry to come over like this, but-” Molly paced around the empty living room. Robinson could feel her evaluating his living situation and he felt ashamed at the lack of furnishing that adorned his place. It made him look as if he was squatting, rather than actually living there.
As she looked the place over, Robinson spoke up, “Yeah, I have had the hardest time picking out a decor for the place. I thought art deco because I was really into Cubism and it was a whole faze for me. Then I wanted Colonial, but without a fireplace I wasn’t sold on the idea because I wanted a fire place to really build around, which we obviously don’t have. So, I went with this kind of Modern look of space and freedom and that whole thing.”
She looked into his eyes a look that stated how full of shit he felt at the moment. Why did he have to be poor? Why couldn’t he just be cool for just a second?
“Well, I think you succeeded,” She took her hand and flipped her hair over her shoulder in such a way that Robinson bit his lower lip. He was in love. “Do you have anything to drink by chance?”
“I, uh, I am not sure. Let me see what I have.” Robinson quickly moved to the kitchen and began to look through his cabinets. He rummaged through a cabinet full of empty bottles that he never bothered to throw away. He became frantic, as each bottle he looked at contained nothing. He couldn’t catch a break. But then remembered the Holy Grail. It was a bottle of scotch he had bought awhile back to celebrate when his parents came back home. His parents loved scotch, keeping a extravagant bottle in their cabinets for special occasions. He had imagined toasting them with this fine bottle of scotch he had bought when they returned home safely. That was three years ago that he bought the bottle. Where could they be?
Robinson took out the bottle and debated on whether to open it or not. A flurry of thoughts crossed his mind as he stared down at the bottle. If he opened it, wouldn’t that be admitting to himself that his parents are gone? Will one glass really be noticed? He knew his dad would just give him the Captain Ron wink and tell him, “Son, she is a beaut.” He frowned when he heard his dad’s voice.
Emily had taken a seat at Robinson’s chair where she felt the keys of the typewriter undr her small, thin fingers as she called out, “If you don’t have anything then don’t worry. Its just one of those-” her voice trailed off when her eyes fell upon some of the typed pages that Robinson had left on the table. She was caught up in reading about a guy who lived across the way from a beautiful girl, but was unable to talk to her. A slight smile crossed her face as she read the words that Robinson had typed. She never had seen Robinson from time to time around the building, but never thought much of him. He had barely said two words to her, not that she cared, but to read this made her anger fall away.
Robinson came back into the living room with two glasses of scotch. Upon entering the room he expected her to be gone; there she sat reading pages from his typewriter. An alarm pounded his head. What was she reading?
Robinson put the glasses down next to her and nervously plucked the pages away. He went and stuffed them into a cabinet and backed away timidly. How much of that had she read? He could feel the redness climbing up his neck and to his face. Emily sat there and fingered the rim of her scotch glass. She too was embarrassed, looking down upon the floor like a small child who had just been scolded.
“I like what you wrote,” She said, still looking down upon the floor. Robinson rubbed the back of his neck as he thought of something to say that may lead down another road. His mind was blank. The uncomfortable silence stood between them like a canyon gorge; Robinson unable to brave the gap with anything clever to say. Now that she knew or knew something of what he thought, Robinson felt that he should just concede his feelings, but his mind went numb. There they stood- Him up against the wall and Emily looking down upon her glass.
“My boyfriend broke up with me,” she blurted out, frustrated by the silence and overcome by anger at the population of men that never say what needs to be said. “Yeah, we were going out for almost a year and he tells me over the phone. He would rather hang out with his buddies and explore his options. That is when I flipped you off. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m sure I had it coming. If not you then someone else.”
She took a sip of her scotch. She looked at it and took the rest.
“That is really good.”
“Yeah, I had been saving it for awhile. I just never had an occasion to-“
“You going to have yours?” She asked picking up his glass.
“Well, I thought yeah…No, no, no you have it. You are having the rough day with the break up and-“
Emily shot it down faster than Robinson could blink. She set the glass down on the table and looked up at Robinson. Her eyes twinkled as she smiled lazily up at him. She tossed back her hair again and leaned back into the chair.
“You ever just have one of those days where you just wished it would be simple? That things could just go as planned and you wouldn’t be pushed off course?” She lightly tapped the typewriter keys with her right fingertips. Robinson never thought of Paul once as she talked. He was too caught up with her every movement and the sound of her voice.
“So are you a writer-?” She asks, looking up from her faux typing. “I’m sorry I don’t know your name. I’m-“
“Emily. Yeah I heard your boyfriend, uh , I mean ex-boyfriend call you that. Your name that is. I actually helped him move your couch into your apartment when you first moved in. So your welcome for that,” Robinson wished he had a drink right now. He rubbed the back of his neck as he scoured the floor with his eyes, hoping to find his nerves somewhere to be picked up.
“You’re cute.”
“Thanks,” Those words tingled his body and excitement lifted him towards the ceiling. His eyes blurred for a second, but Robinson managed to calm himself just enough “I’m Robinson by the way.”
He extended his hand out to her, feeling her small hand inside of his. The smooth touch sent a chill up his spine as he looked over his hand and into her eyes, soaking in the depth of the blue that stared back at him.
A low knock at the door interrupted Robinson’s lusting gaze. He turned around and opened the door and found…
No comments:
Post a Comment