Remembering the Park (Chapter 3) by Michael Seale

 Marie stood on the little balcony that sat off the back of her room. The view was that of a trash filled alley and a small dive bar across the way. She and her roommate rarely used it. Perhaps to smoke a cigarette, although more often or not they smoked inside even though the rule was only smoke on the balcony, or to grill when friends came over, but never to relax. The morning sun quickly came and then disappeared behind the neighboring buildings. Leaving the balcony in a wind blown alley filled with the smell of the dumpsters from the three restaurants below and the one bar across the street.

She tried desperately not to think of the man she had met the day before, but he invaded her thoughts constantly. Her so-called boyfriend was showering down the hall, but still she could not get the man out of her mind. His eyes, his face, the empathy he had shown. Why couldn’t Manuel be the same, she wondered. It would make her life so much easier. She listened to the sound of the water from the bathroom; she wanted to scream at him to get out. He was worse than a woman, shampoos, soaps, conditioner, manscaping as he called it. It was ridiculous. She wondered about Tom, Charlie had called him Johnny and he had understood. Without skipping a beat, he had understood. That amazed her. How had he known, she wondered? Charlie liked him, but then again Charlie liked everyone. Well, everyone except Agunda, but then again Marie thought Agunda's own mother probably didn’t like her either.

Charlie, that was a different thought altogether. Her mind jumped from one thought to the other. She loved Charlie, not like she loved the other residents. They were residents not patients; the facility made sure that none of the employees called them patients. No Charlie, sorry Mr. Davis was different. He was full of life, happy, content. Those things were missing in most of the other residents. Of course they all had their moments but doesn’t everyone. Even Agunda had her moments, although at this moment, Marie was at lost trying to find one. But it made her sad watching him go. Watching the light dim, watching him lose his sparkle. Oh, and how he sparkled. Few people truly sparkled anymore, something about the older generation that gave them a spark. Maybe it was wisdom or knowing or both. Maybe it was something altogether, but she hoped that one day she would sparkle as well. Her thoughts were on Charlie. Screw the whole Mr. Davis game, he was Charlie; she wished he was her grandfather; she wished he would get better. Just having him here, knowing that she will get to see him, brightened her day. She thought, there isn’t a day that went by that he didn’t brighten someone’s day.

She heard the water stop. She rolled her eyes at what came next. Now came the blow drying and not just his hair. No, Manuel liked to blow dry his entire body, it was relaxing he said. It drove Marie insane. What man does that, she thought. At first she thought it was something sexual, but then he started doing it in the evening when he watched a movie, the tv blaring, the blow dryer blasting loud annoying heat. He would plug the hairdryer in next to the sofa and “fan” himself with it. Just to relax, he would say. It was the most annoying thing any man could ever do, she thought. Once she asked him if he would pick his nose, because she thought it might be a little more attractive than the blow drying. In the background, the dryer droned on.

Today was her day off. She had planned with Manuel to go have a coffee in the city, but now that was the last thing she wanted. She wanted to get away from him, just for a day. A day to sort her thoughts out. Sort her feelings out. How could she have feelings? She only knew his name. Tom. Thomas. Tommy. Johnny. She wondered. Tom the name is so short. So succinct. What was this? Marie tried to brush it off.

“Go drink the coffee. Get out of the apartment.” she said out loud, surprising herself.

The blow dryer droned on and on. She rolled her eyes. The smell from the dumpsters wafted up and into her nose. It was a sweet, sickly smell. She loved the apartment but hated the dumpsters. It ruined the balcony. Even if there was no sun. She lived with her best friend, Andrea. They met at the restaurant where they both had briefly worked some time ago but had known each other awhile in the city. St. Gallen is not that big. Everyone seems to know everyone else. At least that is the feeling she had growing up here. Andrea loved the apartment and hated Manuel. Perhaps that was why she slept more and more at her boyfriend’s house. Perhaps she would move in there, and Manuel would automatically think he could move in with her. Her mouth dropped at the thought. No, no, he can’t, she thought.

Manuel was… how do you say it. Not the most reputable guy around. He had sold pot for a while, but that was years ago and now he sold wine. Of course, Andrea believed he had sold more than just a little pot, but that was all he had fessed up too, to Marie. But that wasn’t why Andrea didn’t like him. A friend of a friend of a friend had told her that Manuel had hit his last girlfriend a time or two. But he had never laid a finger on Marie. Marie didn’t know if it was true or not. Truth be told, Marie thought he was more of pussy than anything else. He had no… Marie didn’t know what it was, but she knew he had no spark.

Manuel came out, clean as a whistle, the old saying goes. Whatever that meant, she thought. He smelled good, that was one thing Manuel had, he always smelt good.

“You ready?” he asked.

Marie unconsciously rolled her eyes. “Yes.” she said. Her voice flat and annoyed.

“What’s with you?”

Marie sighed. “Nothing. Let’s go.” She tried to sound cheerful, but her words seemed flat to herself.

The coffee was excellent, and the restaurant the best. It was her favorite place to get a coffee in the old city. The sun shone directly on to the terrace. There was almost always space if you came early enough. After 11 am there was no use even trying for a table outside by that time the Sunday coffee drinkers were out and about. And here was a highly regarded location. Sunshine, people watching and no cars. The way it should be on a lazy Sunday morning, now if only Tom were here and not Manuel, thought Marie. Where did that thought come from, she asked herself? She didn’t even know if he thought or felt the same way. But she wanted to find out.

At that moment, she realized Manuel had been talking with her.

“Huh, what?” she said.

“I said, Andrea was gone again.”

“Yeah, she was at Mauro’s last night.”

“Maybe, she’ll move in there. Wouldn’t that be great? Then I could move in.”

“Uh huh.” Marie said, knowing that she would have to talk to Andrea soon before it got that far.

The conversation lulled, and that was normal with Manuel. They didn’t have that much to talk about. Even after six months of dating. She kept waiting for his intellectual pool to open. But his idea of conversation was little more than just a few snarky remarks about the people that wondered by. That was ok for a time, but she wanted more. She wanted to be challenged, to think, to care, to wonder, to be astounded. Manuel was Manuel, and he was dull.

That’s not entirely true, Marie told herself. Ignoring his tirade of comments about the soccer game the night before. St. Gallen lost again, nothing new, so get over it. He had been funny, gentle, sweet, but was that enough. He had surprised her once in a while and brought her flowers; he had even cooked for her once. He wasn’t a bad boyfriend, he just didn’t sparkle.

“What is this?” she asked him.

“What? Huh?”

“This…” she waved her arms back and forth between them, almost knocking over her glass of apple juice. “What is this? You and me.”

Manuel looked at her bewildered for a moment, and then he smiled. “Well, it’s us. This is us.”

“What is us?”

“What are you asking?” he asked her.

Marie was quiet for sometime, she hadn’t thought about saying anything. It was as if it just came out, as if her mouth just opened and the words were there. Too late now, no turning back.

“I guess, I am saying I’m not happy.” And with that, her relationship was over. Of course there was a long discussion and Marie cried without realizing that she would. Manuel looked dismayed, betrayed, hurt. She didn’t know and honestly didn’t care. She didn’t want to listen to the blow dryer anymore. She didn’t want a man that spent more time in the bathroom than she did. She didn’t want a man that kept her best friend away. She couldn’t remember the last time they partied at their place, just the two of them. Loud music, beers and laughs. That’s what she needed. She needed her best friend.

Marie stood and walked away.