A New York Romance (2 page)

“Do you realize what went on back there?” she asked again.

“Yes, I
was
in the bus when it wrecked,” he replied with a smile, avoiding eyes contact at all cost.

“Did you hit your head or something? Or are you crazy? You know, mentally unstable?” she asked sarcastically yet seriously, as she noticed his strange calmness. It was as if he was walking down a warm beach without a care in the world. The bus was nearly out of sight. Faint, panic-stricken voices could no longer be heard as the sounds of sirens and flashing lights faded away.

The girl looked at Charlie as she quietly walked beside him. She noticed his worn-out shoes. They were brown leather and looked like a cat had been kneading on them for over a year. He wore faded jeans and
yuck
, a brown corduroy jacket.
How unfashionable,
she thought to herself.

“I’m not the one dressed in a skirt and heels in winter, am I?” Charlie said, replying to her mental health question but she had already forgotten about it.

“These heels are killing my feet,” she remarked as she bent down and took them off without missing a step, her stripped feet clinging to the ice on the road.

“I’m freezing,” she complained as a limo pulled up from behind into her peripheral vision. She glanced over twice to make sure it was real as it came to a stop beside her. The driver leaned out his window and asked, “Do you need a ride?”

The girl stood there with an ‘Oh my God, we were just in a bus crash’ look on her face and didn’t say anything, as she was equally disturbed that a limousine happened to be driving on this old snow-covered country road in the middle of nowhere on a cold winter’s day, softly playing classical music inside.

Charlie opened the back door and gestured for her to step inside. He was looking at her eyes again, “It’s warm.”

She nodded feeling as if she was in a dream but wanted to stay asleep to see where this strange fantasy-nightmare would end up. She climbed in and Charlie followed. The driver lowered the black glass window separating him from the back seat passengers and asked, “Where to?”

“New York City, please,” Charlie said.

The girl just looked at both of them with a confused grin and then asked the driver, “Did you see the bus accident back there?”

“No, ma’am. Would you like to go back and look?” he replied, tipping his hat as he was taught when speaking to a lady.

“No, I don’t want to go back and look,” she answered as if it was the stupidest question she had ever been asked. “You didn’t see a flaming bus on the side of the road before you picked us up? All the ambulances and people crying on the side of the road? It was just a mile or two back,” she asked again.

“No, ma’am,” he said tipping his hat once again with a strange, somewhat clueless, ‘out of this world’ smile upon his face.

Charlie just sat quietly, staring out the window as if nothing strange was happening.

“A bus?!” the girl said sarcastically. “A giant bus with flames all over it, tipped over sideways in the ditch right on the side of the road with injured people all around?” she asked the driver again. “Ambulances! A fire truck! You didn’t see it?”

“I must have missed it, ma’am,” the driver said with that delightful smile on his face, tipping his hat once again. The frustrated girl just reached for the buttons and commanded the black window to shut, separating the driver from them. She stared at his dumbfounded smile until the window was fully closed. She cracked the window again. Still smiling, a tip of the hat, and she closed the window again for good.

“Is this some kind of dream? Hey, I’m talking to you!” she said to the strange young man beside her, hitting him on the shoulder as he stared aimlessly out the window. “Am I in a nightmare or something? Am I dead? He’s the Grim Reaper, isn’t he?” she said glancing toward the driver behind the dark-tinted glass.

“No,” Charlie said in a way that calmed her nerves. “He’s just a driver. I’ve never known the Grim Reaper to take anyone to the other side in a limousine,” he said with a relaxed smile and a quiet laugh.

“I don’t know. It sounds saner than a limo picking me up on an abandoned country road in the middle of winter after a bus crash that the driver had to pass but somehow never saw,” she replied.

“Huh. I suppose it does,” Charlie calmly agreed. “What’s your name?”

“Julie.”

“Julie,” Charlie repeated.

“It’s short for Juliet,” she explained.

“I’m Charlie,” he said.

She noticed a difference in him. He seemed more composed. His nervous exterior was gone, as if it didn’t survive the bus crash.

“Nice to meet you, again,” she replied, somewhat civilized again.

“Where are you going, Juliet, if I may call you that.” She agreed with a nod and a faint smile. “Did you have any baggage on the bus?” he asked.

“No, I…” she hesitated, “I was just getting away for a while to relax.”

“You’re going to New York City to relax? Now that’s funny,” his comment caused her faint smile to stretch across her face high into her chilled rose cheeks. “Are you meeting anyone there?”

“My mother lives there. I was thinking of staying with her for a while, just till…well, till I get things together, you know,” she said reluctantly as if she had already said too much. The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied even though he did not know. All he knew was that she was hurting. He did not need the details to feel her emotional pain, or to wish her happiness.

Charlie suddenly realized he was not nervous around her anymore, not afraid to look into her eyes. There’s something about becoming aware of another person’s pain that dulls the obsession over their beauty.

Julie was no longer just a beautiful girl. In the moment of sensing she was in pain Charlie’s kindness and concern for her swallowed his nervousness. Rather than drooling over her beauty he could look at her pain and wish her troubles away. As long as she had pain and he was aware of it, he could overcome these silly human feelings and simply be with her in kindness.

Charlie realized that was the thing about beautiful girls. Without knowing anything about them, they seemed more perfect than they really were. Without seeing her flaws, he was too nervous to even look at her, as if this human body was naturally drawn to seemingly flawless females. Now that he could see Julie’s imperfections, he could relate to her the way he related to all other creatures, with feelings of kindness and love that wanted nothing in return.

“I’m tired,” she said as she took off her sweater and began to roll it up to use as a pillow. Charlie noticed her beauty again as he saw her naked arms, legs, and neck. He could feel the human desires rushing through his veins again, drawn to her seemingly flawless skin. Quickly he focused on her imperfections. She was tired and worn out and obviously escaping to New York from some emotional pain that she kept secret and needed to ‘get together.’ He pulled a pillow out of the compartment and placed it beside him on the seat before she fell upon her sweater.

“Thank you,” Julie said as she laid her head down beside him on the pillow and stretched her legs across the black leather seat. She covered herself with her sweater and quickly fell asleep. Charlie noticed her legs again, then he pulled out a blanket from the compartment and covered her up. He turned up the soft classical station, stared out the window for a moment, and then drifted off to Mozart with pleasant thoughts for all creatures, especially for the beautiful one beside him now.

By the time they arrived in the city, it was already dark. The thick glass windows of the limo could not muffle the noise of the city streets, nor could the dark tint block out the array of flashing neon lights. Snow covered the branches of the sparse trees, surrounded by concrete and stone. Hurried footprints tracked their way along the powdered sidewalks as dirty slush gathered against the curbs. Store windows were alight with displays of endless merchandise, left over from the holiday sales. Bridges were decorated with strings of electrical lights and the skyscrapers flickered with life.

The city’s glow reflected off the clouds and lit up the sky with a white, bluish aura, but hardly anyone saw past the mesmerizing lights advertising products specifically designed for delighting the senses. From coffee shops to massage parlors, drug stores to pizza places—everything was designed to draw the pedestrians in so that they may buy one moment of pleasure after another: a full belly, a two hour movie, a comical act, a play, a new bracelet, a sugary treat—anything to let them forget their personal worries or the cares of the world.

“Where do you need to go?” Charlie asked as Julie fixed her hair in the mirror that hung from the ceiling.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“Are you not sure where your mother lives?” he asked as he could see the sadness upon her face that no make-up or smile could hide. Not even the excitement of the city could erase it.

“No. To tell you the truth I haven’t seen her in years, ever since she left. I was just told that she lives in the city,” she said somberly with a bit of anger behind her words. “I don’t know what I was thinking; I just figured I might find her when I got here.”

There was a long pause. Charlie stared out the window at the passing cars and the plastic faces that shined in the light of the store windows. Then he glanced at the people strolling the sidewalks and sitting in the restaurants.
There are so many of them,
he thought to himself,
busy filling themselves with everything, when what they really want, is true love!

“Maybe we should have waited by the bus or at least called the police,” Julie said as memories of the bus crash flashed through her mind. “You saved that man’s life and maybe mine, didn’t you?” she asked as she remembered his arm wrapped around her waist, her head resting gently on his chest when the bus came to a stop in the ditch.

“Are you hungry, Juliet? We can look for your mother after we eat,” he suggested, not acknowledging if he saved anyone’s life or not.

“Yeah, I’m hungry,” she agreed. “I know of a great little restaurant my aunt told me about somewhere around here.”

“What’s the name?”

“
Juliano’s House of Pasta
! The funny thing is, I heard Juliano is a Mexican who converted to Judaism and opened an Italian restaurant,” she said to him with a smile. “Where else could that happen but New York City?”

“Well, ask the Prince of Darkness up there if he has heard of it,” Charlie suggested with laughter and gestured toward the driver behind the dark glass.

Julie laughed and commanded the tinted window to ease down with the push of a button. There sat the limo driver with an overly accented smile on his face. He looked back at Julie and before she could ask he said, “Yes, I know exactly where it is,” then he tipped his hat again and smiled until Julie closed the window.

“He was listening this whole time,” Julie whispered in Charlie’s ear and they both laughed out loud. “
The Prince of Darkness
,” she repeated, “with
that
smile on his face?”

Charlie was happy to see the smile across her face. In that moment he knew all her cares and worries were gone. This human happiness seemed so wonderful, yet so fleeting to him, for under the smile he knew the worries and pain still lingered.

When they arrived at the restaurant, the limo driver opened the door for them. Charlie tipped him handsomely and smiled at him like he was saying goodbye to a friend he would not see for a long while. The driver tipped his hat at Julie as she walked up to the doorway of the restaurant, got back in his limo and pulled away.

Julie looked at the prices on the menu posted outside on the glass window and said, “We should go somewhere else. I can’t afford to eat here.”

“Don’t worry about the price, I can get the money we need,” he said with the feeling that she could use a good relaxing meal, but he also just wanted her company.

“No, I don’t want to take any money from you, I don’t want this to…well you know, sometimes if a man pays for things he expects things in return,” she explained, with some sarcasm obviously spilling over from the emotions of a past experience.

“Well then do not worry, Juliet; I am not really a man,” he said with a comical yet serious smirk on his face, knowing she would never believe him.

“Talking like that wouldn’t get you anywhere anyway. Let me guess, are you a woman dressed as a man? Oh! Or maybe an alien in a man’s body?” she asked comically, feeling safe in his presence.

Charlie just laughed as he opened the door for her.

“What did you mean you can
get
the money we need?” she asked as they entered the restaurant. “Do you have the money to pay?”

“Yes, I already got it,” he said.

“Table for two?” the host asked. He greeted them politely from behind his podium. Every hair was in place and gelled to an even peak at the top.

“Yes,” Julie acknowledged.

“May we have a booth by a window?” Charlie asked.

“We don’t have any available right…oh, my mistake,” the host replied catching sight of the empty, clean booth by the window, wondering how he missed it before. “I guess we do have one. Right this way.”

Immediately Charlie walked over, sat at the booth and stared out the window. He wanted a booth where he could observe the cars, lights, and people passing on the street during the silent parts of their conversation, or whenever he needed to redirect his thoughts.

They remained silent as they looked over the menus and were given glasses of water with bread and butter. The waiter interrupted the awkward silence and took their order.

“So what do you do, Charlie?” Julie asked after she ordered her chicken dinner and he his ‘plate of slightly heated raw vegetables, almonds, papaya juice, and chocolate chip cookies.’

“I am a....” he understood the question, he just didn’t know what to tell her.

She smiled. He noticed everything about her in that smile, the lines that appeared on her face, the way her lips raised to reveal her teeth, the slightest movement of her eyebrows, and the light freckles on each cheek hidden under the fading makeup.

“What’s wrong? You don’t know what you do?” she asked with a short laugh.

“You would not believe me,” he said, wanting to tell her the truth. He always wanted to tell someone the truth, but he resisted. Not even his adopted parents understood him, nor his brother or friends. Charlie was simply quiet and odd toward everyone when they asked what he did or when he was forced to talk about himself.

“Try me,” she encouraged him. “You can tell me anything. Just think of us as passing strangers and we’re never going to see each other again after this night. So you can tell me anything. I don’t even know your last name so I can’t tell anyone who you are anyway. What are you afraid of? You’re not a hit man or anything, are you? Or an escaped murderer?” she questioned him like this, although she was certain he was mostly harmless. There was something calming about his presence, though it was also a little strange. “Oh that’s right. You’re not even a man. I forgot.”

“Well, okay. Let’s see,” he said, agreeing to reveal some of himself. “I don’t really have a job, not in the way you think of jobs. I tried to work before to fit in, but I just didn’t like it very much. It was too distracting to my real work,” he said.

“Are you one of those religious people doing the work of the Lord?” she asked with a wide-eyed look of ‘I hope not’ on her face.

“No, he does his work and I do mine,” Charlie smiled, “they are similar but they are not the same.”

“If you don’t work, how do you get money to live off of? Were you born into a wealthy family?” she asked.

“No, not exactly. You see, we all have the power to create whatever we want with our thoughts, but for me, my thoughts produce things very quickly because of who I am.”

“Because of who you are? You mean because of the
work
you do?” she asked looking for a simple answer first to build upon. However, she was quickly realizing that she was not going to get a simple answer like a lawyer, a fireman, or even a drug dealer or someone who lives off the government.
Perhaps he’s on disability with mental health issues,
she thought to herself.
Maybe he thinks he’s a superhero or something.

“Well, like the bus crash today,” he began to say, then he paused.

“What about it?” she encouraged him.

“I caused it. I injured all those people,” he said.

Julie stared into his grayish-blue eyes in a moment of thoughtless shock then said, “Yeah right.” She thought he was just making up a story, but she could not reject the seriousness of his face.
What kind of story was this to make up anyway?

“Don’t joke around about that,” she said. “It was a bus crash. It was scary. People got hurt.”

“I’m not joking,” he said as she fidgeted in her seat, bit her bottom lip, and reached slowly for her purse.

“What are you like a terrorist or something?” she asked, thinking of how she could get out of the dinner.

“No, it is nothing like that at all. I saw you on the bus and I thought for a moment what it might be like to be in a relationship with someone so beautiful, just the two of us. Then the bus crashed and suddenly it was the two of us walking down the street.”

“What? You’re saying you caused the bus to crash because you thought of us being alone together?” she asked, thinking it was perhaps the most disturbing yet romantic thing she had ever heard. The world ‘
beautiful
’ lingered in her mind longer than all the other words.

“Yes, in order for us to be alone we had to be separated from the other people on the bus. If I hadn’t turned my attention back quicker, all those people could have been killed,” he explained.

“That’s cute. Original too. Never heard anything like it,” she responded sarcastically. “Do you always make up crazy stories to get a woman interested in you?” She pulled her purse closer and held it tight in her lap.

“I told you that you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Ah, I should get going. It was really nice to meet you,” she said.

Charlie just wished her well and let her leave. He would often let beautiful girls who showed an interest in him walk out of his life without ever trying to stop them. Then he realized that if he never did anything different then nothing would change for him.
You’re going to grow old and be all alone if you don’t change things,
he recalled his mother saying. He never considered himself to be alone, even when he was by himself. Loneliness was something he didn’t feel. He felt connected to all things because he loved all things. But now he was beginning to realize what his mother meant by
all alone.
It had nothing to do with combating loneliness for Charlie. It was a human emotion that he had never let get the best of him, nor could he explain it, but he felt it stirring inside him, deep under all other thing. He would be stuck with this unresolved human emotion for the rest of his life, and perhaps wonder about it for eternity, if he did not
change things
.

As she was walking away he suddenly stood up and said, “Wait, Juliet.”

She stopped and turned around to face him.

“I am not a dangerous person. At least I don’t have harmful intentions. What do you have to lose by giving me another chance?” He gestured to the booth, “Finish your dinner with me and let me prove it to you, then if you still want to walk away I will not stop you. You can think of us as passing strangers who do not have to see each other again after this meal. I don’t even know your last name and as long as you don’t reveal it to me, you can walk away free and clear, with a full stomach I might add. You will never have to see me again and I won’t look for you. I give you my word.”

The waiter brought the food to the table and Julie felt her hunger. Somewhat reluctantly, she walked back toward the table. The smell of the food above anything else drove her to do so.

“Is anything wrong, sir?” the waiter asked.

“No, thank you for your kind service,” Charlie replied.

The waiter folded his hands and bowed. “Enjoy your meal. Let me know if there is anything else I can get you.”

They sat down without a word and began to eat. All they could hear was the sound of background voices boiling like soup, the clattering of metal utensils on glass plates, a baby crying, and the busboy loading up his tray from the empty table across from them, as new patrons waited impatiently by the podium.

“So you just think of things and they happen?” she asked, in order to break the awkward silence between them.