He didn’t love her anymore. He knew, but it ate at him knowing she didn’t love him either. She may have been a hot tamale when it came to Carver, but was a cold fish to him. She tossed her head towards him as she spoke with vehemence, as if she were saying who the hell are you and why am I even talking to you.
Reconciliation seemed unlikely.
Kip could remember the way he had loved her. It was an easy thing to do. Curry had soft red hair that spilled over her shoulders and down her back, a tawny waterfall that swished and twisted in Syracuse’s steady breeze. She had a way of widening her eyes when she made a point that hypnotized him. Beautiful by any standard, she never seemed completely comfortable about it. He loved her the first time he saw her outside the Carrier Dome collecting canned goods for operation rescue. He’d brought a can of favabeans and some Beefaroni he’d foraged from the cupboard.
Curry didn’t notice him or his beans. She was drinking in the sparkling water of college life. Having grown up in smallish Oyster Bay, she was enjoying her first taste of freedom. She ate everything up.
Kip got a second chance to make a first impression at a Halloween party given by a fraternity his lab partner belonged to. They had driven into the country and bought a patch-full of pumpkins from a muck farmer at a sagging roadside stand.
“We’re making jack-o-lanterns,” Kip had said to him. The farmer had just nodded. Kip was startled at the amount of flesh they scooped out of the pumpkins.
“I always thought they were hollow, but there’s orange goop in them,” he related to the other partygoers after they had returned with the gourds. Unfortunately, Kip’s pumpkin trek had taken so long Curry had already come and gone from the party. Her best friend, Chanterelle, had pulled out a filling on a bite of candy apple and needed emergency dental treatment. So while Kip was talking pumpkins, the two girls were sitting in an antiseptic waiting room flipping through two-month-old People magazines and enduring the subliminal music.
Other near misses followed. He’d get a passing glimpse of her on the street or in the pizza line. Kim felt like he knew her somehow. She was the apple of his eye. Somehow, he felt they should end up together.
Kip chewed the ear off of anyone who’d let him talk about her to them. He was transfixed and frustrated by her. How can I meet this girl, he plotted. How?
Kip’s next break came when he took a job delivering vegetable kabobs and assorted baked items for the Earth Easy Food Works. It was a new place run by a Pakistani named Shi’is. Kip barely understood him but shared his passion for unusual food. Shi’is used to bake crisp little tarts with dates and honey that made Kip’s mouth water. They were busy but not rushed so Kip sampled the entire menu over the few weeks he was the delivery guy. Everything was luscious.
One night, as he stood there with an order of watercress sandwiches on fresh oat bread, the door opened and there she stood. She positively sparkled. In a pair of Levi’s and a loose gray T-shirt with Hershey across the front she looked like she could be on the cover of a fashion magazine. A lump grew in Kip’s throat. Curry smiled at him. It was a warm welcoming smile that seemed to say hi, how are you, I think I could be in love with you soon.
She said, “Hi.”
He said, “Hi, I’m Kip from the Easy Earth…no…I mean the Food Worths…Works. I have oat sandled cretht sandwiches for you to use.” Beads of perspiration popped out of his forehead. His legs shook and his face burned. She continued to smile that radiant beam of hers but a tiny crease formed in the brow between her liquid green eyes. She leaned slightly away from him, a heavy breathing puddle of perspiration.
“Did anybody order food? I think there’s a food guy here,” she shouted over her shoulder. He breathed at her as he looked into her house. This was where she lived and slept and showered and…other things, he thought. He was losing his composure. She turned back and flashed him a glimmer of the dazzler she had first offered.
“I think you might have the wrong place,” she said, “Sorry.” He felt his moment slipping away. He needed to say something intelligent, anything cool, right now or all would be lost.
His lip quivered. Curry shifted a little in the doorway, her smile faded to uneasy grin. She squinted at him.
“Oh…wow, I’m mmmm um sorry,” he mumbled.
“At’s akay. See ya now,” she chirped, relieved of the suddenly uncomfortable situation. Her front door latched with a thock that echoed down the empty hallway.
They had met and the earth had not stopped spinning.
He skulked away embarrassed and angry. The bag of fresh food had somehow become crushed and moist in their encounter. Kip never returned to the restaurant. He missed Shi’is’ tarts and realized he’d probably be forgiven for ruining the order but his heart had gone out of it.
He wrote letters to her that he knew she’d never see. He missed classes. He found himself hanging around places she might have frequented. He followed her home one night just watching her from afar.
“She lives in a wonderful way,” he thought. She was so nice to people, so cheerful. He watched as she brightened the evenings of strangers she met along the blocks leading to her apartment.
He learned that she had two roommates, both girls. All three were future teachers and they all came from the same area on Long Island. He could see into their apartment from the roof of the building across the street. Kip would sit there nights with his 50 power army field glasses and a bag of cinnamon crullers, munching away the time and waiting for the arrival of his intended. Sometimes he had chips as well. She never disappointed him. Usually later rather than sooner she’d come floating along the avenue, almost dancing home after another day of being wonderful. Often she’d have some friends along with her and sometimes she was alone. Occasionally she had just one friend with her, a male friend. She had a boyfriend.
Kip imagined she didn’t care and was just stringing him along until someone better came along. But he noticed that they seemed to be spending more time together as the semester wore on and fall became winter. His nightly perch became a more cold vigil. Kip brought along a thermos of coffee or hot chocolate to go with his rooftop snacks. “What dedication I have for you Curry,” he thought, “If only you knew.” It was around this time that he withdrew from school. He had missed too many classes to pass any of his courses anyway, and his life had lost focus. He needed money. His rooftop habit had eaten away the cash from home. Once this difficult time with Curry was passed, he felt everything else would sort itself out too. This was very particularly difficult of her. They needed to meet again. Next time he would be smooth and sweet like maple syrup, and she would fall for him. They would have to meet again someday.
Then she saw him and the world really did change. Curry got the creepy feeling someone was following her sometime around the Halloween party she and her friend Chanterelle had gone to. She told her about it on one of their frequent trips to the dentist. Chanterelle had a mouthful of expensive orthodontia requiring frequent attention, but was a coward when it came to dentistry. She often had Curry along for moral support.
“Like a stalker?” Chanterelle asked, excitement making her voice quiver.
“I don’t know. What’s a stalker like, really? I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I guess, just creepy.”
“You should get a PI, girl. You know, like a bodyguard? Someone to watch out for you in case that maybe this guy is real or something, not just a creepy feeling and maybe a real creep!” Chanterelle bobbed her head angrily. When she gave advice she meant for you to take it.
“Maybe I will. I don’t know. Just be on the lookout for any weirdo’s, okay C?”
“I’m telling you what you ought a do, so maybe you should listen sometimes, huh Curry? Her eyes flashed and the bobbing took over her whole body. Curry thought maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned this to her. Before she had felt a little creepy but now Chanterelle was making her paranoid.
She saw a shadow on the adjacent roof one evening when she happened to glance out the window as she dug through a closet, rummaging for a light bulb. She wouldn’t have noticed except that the living room was 60 watts dimmer than normal so she could see through the front window. Up on the roof there was a smudge against the sky, a smudge that appeared to move.
“Maybe it’s the wind,” she thought, her mind racing. She went to the front door. It was already locked. She turned out some more lights. The shadow sat there. She called Chanterelle.
“What does he look like? Lock the door. Where is Kelly and Angela? Does he have a gun? Call 911. Get the cops before something happens. Oh girlfriend! I told you to get somebody to look out for you.”
“I did get somebody, but Carver’s not here tonight. Nobody’s here. Look C, I’m not sure if there’s really anything up there. Could you just please go and get him at the sub shop, and come over and we’ll go up and look. It’s probably nothing but I’m scared.”
“Carver Asado?”
“Yeah.”
“Ooh, he’s cute! When you start seeing him?”
“A few weeks ago. I met him at the longhorns game. He took me to Pastabilities that night. He’s nice.” Maryann twisted the phone cord as she looked out into the darkness.
“Just go get him and come over, will you C?”
“Okay, I’ll see you in a few. Don’t go out. Do you want something while I’m going?” Chanterelle asked.
“Sure, get me half a turkey sub with no mayo, please.” “You want cheese?”
“Na… Just lettuce and tomato, thanks.”
“Okay, we’ll be over in a half hour. See you.”
The five-story building across from her apartment had been vacant since the seventies. Some time before then it was a commercial kitchen appliance warehouse. You could still see some huge metal bowls and other large scale utensils through the dusty windows. Most of the building, though, was empty except for the rubbish strewn throughout its rooms. The rear fire escape was rusty and old, but sturdy. The iron rails clanked when the three of them pulled the escape’s ladder down to the alley pavement. Quietly, they began to climb. Chanterelle was the first to break the silence.
“What if he’s got a gun? What do we do then? What if there’s a whole gang?” she whispered, though not softly enough to prevent her voice from echoing off the alley walls.
“Shhh,” Curry warned, “he’s gonna hear us coming up.”
They finished the climb to the roof in silence. It was spongy with black tar, windswept, dirty and thoroughly empty. The roof did offer a commanding view of the neighborhood, Curry thought. It was cold and she wished she’d worn a better coat. She could see all the way to downtown from here. She could see the Dome from here and she noticed, with a little chill running down her spine, that she could see directly into her house from here as well. Was somebody watching her? Why? Why her? What was going on? She looked down and counted the orange discs of streetlight that shown on the pavement like gumballs zigzagging down the block. What should she do? Why her?
“There’s no one here,” they announced. She imagined them thinking that there never was.
“We did find these, though. Not really proof of much, but who knows.” Carver reached out some wrappers to her. Fig Newtons. Fig Newtons, Oreos, and a tattered Little Debbie snack cake box. She couldn’t quite make it out but it looked like crullers to her. She guessed cinnamon. Could have been Swiss Cake Rolls but it was hard to tell. Someone had been on this roof in the not too distant past. He was gone now but someone had definitely been here. She had him now. All they had to do was wait. She would meet this mystery man, this spook. This peeping Tom creep weirdo rooftop snacking as he watched her, her and her roommates. Well his snacking and peeping days were over for sure. He was dead meat. They went right down and called the cops.
Kip had never seen a light as bright as the one they shown into his eyes that night. It was like looking into a spot light in the middle of the night. He was returning from the store where he had restocked with Chips Ahoy, a bag of Sun chips and some Spicy Slim Jims when they had caught him. Just as soon as he settled back in for his nightly vigil that light came on behind him. Boy, was he surprised.
They asked him question after question, and Kip slowly realized that he was probably in some trouble. How could she have done this to him? If only she had known him better she wouldn’t be doing this. This was really a mix up, a mix up really.
She ascended to the roof. Even with the light and the circle of questions he saw her. Her hair was beautiful at night in the wind. She was unhappy, he saw. Their eyes met. He could see it all there. She was angry at first but then was touched when she heard of the purest simplest dedication he had shown her. He thought he saw fire in her cool green eyes. Things would be different from now on. He thought he might offer her a Slim Jim.
She turned away from looking at him.
“I suppose that’s him officer, but I never really got a good look at him. You’re still going to arrest him, aren’t you? Good. Thank you so much. This is really an enormous weight off. Would anyone like some hot chocolate?”