Run With Me (2 page)

But I don't hear anything. I
don't feel anything.

I run and run, reaching a corner
and turning. I keep running, turning another corner, and another,
before finally stopping. Then I listen and regain my breath, my mind
rushing, my heart pumping.

There is no one following me.
It's quiet, and I'm alone. 

Kitty

I wake up in my bed, images
still flashing through my mind. They've found their way into my
dreams, waking me up early. I check my phone and it's only 8 am, the
light beginning to trickle in through my curtains. The rush of
morning traffic is starting to sound outside my window, the roar of
trains passing by, carrying early morning commuters to their jobs.

My head is still spinning as I
sit up and reach for the glass of water on my bedside table. It's a
force of habit - placing a full glass of cool water beside me when I
go to bed. I sip down the liquid and refresh my throat, my aching
head quickly beginning to settle.

I walk out and into the living
room, where a bundle lies across my sofa, smothered in a light duvet.
It's my friend, Tara. She's staying with me while she looks for a
more permanent place to live, but I like having her around. We were
good friends in high school, until she moved off to college and I
stayed behind. She's finished now, though, and struggling with debt
just like half the graduates out there.

I look at her breathing lightly
and wonder whether I'd like to be in her shoes. She's got a degree
now, lots of opportunity ahead of her. But here she is, crashing on
my sofa, eating noodles every day to save money. I don't know how
long it will last, and neither does she. It's the risk that all
college students take: spend a fortune on education, no guarantee of
a high paying job at the end of it.

Tara asked me last week whether
there was any work available at my bar. I told her 'no'. I'd tell her
the same even if they were desperate for staff. This girl couldn't
handle it down there. Not many of my old friends could.

She stirs and twists, this look
of concern on her face, like she's having a bad dream. Can't be as
bad as mine. I lived a nightmare last night.

I put it to the back of my head
and pour myself another glass of water from the attached kitchen.
More of a kitchenette, really. My place isn't big, but it's home.
I've been here a few years now, and feel settled. It's my own little
space in this sprawling city, somewhere I feel comfortable and safe.

I sink the water as cracked
words sound from behind me. It's Tara, waking from her dream, her
words carrying the short space to my ears.

“
What time did you get in last
night?” she asks. I turn to see her rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“
Normal time, about 2,” I
respond, now pouring two glasses of orange juice from the fridge. My
eyes fall over the empty space inside, only the odd jar and old box
of takeaway sitting on the shelves.

“
What
are you doing up this early?” she questions again, looking at her
phone to catch the time.

I walk over to her with the two
glasses of juice and set one into her hand. She thanks me and takes a
long gulp.

“
Couldn't sleep that well,”
I say.

I'm not willing to go into any
detail on what I saw. I want to put it out of my mind right away.

We chat for a little while about
normal things. We do it most mornings, me telling her about work, her
telling me about her latest failed job interview. I've been getting
the feeling recently that she's becoming desperate. She's always
apologizing for not getting work and for mooching off me so much. I
tell her to forget about it, that I'm happy for her to stay with me
for as long as she wants, but it's obvious she's not happy with
herself for it. She's a proud girl, Tara.

It turns 9 when we decide to go
for a walk together. It's warm outside, the morning bright and
breezy. We head for a nearby park and stroll around the large pond in
the middle, watching as families emerge with their dogs and start
feeding the ducks. There are college students littering the lawns as
well, books in hand and thinking caps on. You hear a mixture of
random babbling and more in-depth discussion on topics like politics
and philosophy. Frankly I'm surprised that any of these students are
up by this time. I thought it was mandated that all students lie in
until midday at least.

I watch as Tara's eyes scan over
the groups sprawled across the green grass. “Do you miss it,” I
ask. “You know, being at college?”

She nods immediately. “Hell
yeah. They say college is the best time of your life so it's only
down hill from here. It's not as easy as I thought it would be,
that's for sure.”

“
You mean finding a job?”

“
Finding a job, yeah....just
moving on, you know. You're in a safe little bubble in college. It's
easy. The real world is a minefield compared to it.”

“
You'll be fine honey. One of
these jobs will stick and then everything will be great.”

She nods and it's obvious she's
losing faith. But she never pushes it or moans too much, and I know
just why. It's because she looks at me and sees something worse. I'm
kind of a good person to live with in that sense. Someone who puts
her shitty situation in perspective. And she hasn't even seen where I
work, she hasn't seen the sort of people I rub shoulders with night
after night. That's a whole different level of perspective right
there.

We
spend the rest of the morning in the sunshine, and have lunch in the
park. Tara's got this odd sense of humor that I always find amusing.
We play a game where we 'people watch' and guess what their lives are
like.

“
He's a doctor,” she says,
“definitely a doctor.”

“
Why?” I ask, laughing
lightly.

“
You can tell, look at him.
He's clearly tired, either after a long shift...or maybe he's on call
and can only catch naps here and there. He's got a booky way to him,
you know, like he looks clever, and he's about the right age. And
it's Friday babe, any other person would be at work right now.”

“
All right,” I say, amused
by how convinced she is. “What about him.”

She casts her eyes in the
direction of my finger and immediately starts nodding.

“
Easy. Personal trainer. You
see the shorts and training top. He's out here training and waiting
for a client.”

“
So he's not just working out
on his own?”

“
Nah, he's waiting on someone.
Look – check him out looking at his watch and gazing around. Time
is money for this guy, you can tell.”

She begins looking around the
park again, searching for someone more interesting.

“
All right, we've got one
here. Look at him – Jesus, if this guy's not a criminal of some
kind then I'm not sleeping on your damn sofa longer than I should
be!” She throws me a cheeky look, knowing it's a bigger deal to her
than it is to me.

My eyes are guided to the man
sitting on the far side of the park. He's under a tree, dressed in
black, sitting in the shadows. He seems to be looking in our
direction, but it's hard to know exactly where from this distance.

“
Is he the sort you get down
at your bar?” Tara asks.

I'm still looking at him when I
talk, and he hasn't changed the angle of his head. “He looks too
smart for my bar Tar. Seriously, you wouldn't believe the guys you
get down there.”

“
He's kinda creepy, isn't he.
Is he looking at us?” she asks.

I'm about to answer when he
stands from the bench and begins moving off out of the park. He walks
slowly and doesn't look back, his black clothing looking so out of
place under the warm sunshine and vibrant colors all around him.

We both watch as he casually
walks off, before Tara loses interest and turns her gaze back to
someone else and starts spouting another made up story. My mind is
still stuck on the guy, though, watching us. I get the feeling he's
still lingering in the background somewhere, although I can't see him
any more. It's just the way I think, I've got a suspicious mind. You
might call me paranoid, but after last night anyone would be...

The day continues to drag on and
Tara soon brings out her books and laptop to start working on her
next interview. She's got another one coming up on Monday and is keen
on studying all through the weekend. I help her out by asking her
test questions: you know, competency questions like 'when have you
worked in a team' and 'when have you been put in a position of
leadership'.

She answers them with the
precision of an actress spouting lines from a play and I advise her
to tone things down a bit, to make them more natural. It sounds
better when she starts doing that, and I start to get a feel as to
why she's failed so many interviews in recent weeks. I guess she's
just been trying too hard and needs to relax. I can already see the
stress beginning to build inside her as she fumbles her lines and
gets a bit lost when I ask her a question she hasn't had time to
prepare for.

“
Babe, you've gotta
chill....and smile more. Interviewers love it when you smile and make
eye contact,” I say. “So, keep your eyes on me, OK, don't look at
your notes, and smile....but do it naturally.”

“
Thanks honey, good advice.”

She tries again and again as I
come at her with several more questions. After a couple of hours
she's getting better at it, and I can see her confidence growing. It
makes me smile seeing the quick improvement in her, it's so much more
gratifying than serving alcohol to drunks, bikers, and criminals.
Maybe I could do with a change of career?

The clock on my phone keeps on
ticking by as the sun silently glides across the sky. By early
evening it's threatening to dip down below the horizon, its warm
orange glow beginning to spill over the green fields.

Strangely, it's almost busier
now than it was earlier on, despite the fact that the light is
quickly fading. Office workers are rushing out from work to catch the
last rays of the sun, sitting in groups in their suits, drinking wine
and beer from plastic cups, and nibbling on chips and olives.

I notice Tara's eyes drifting
over a relatively loud gathering that's appeared quite close to us.
They flash with envy as the group laugh and drink, another week of
paid work complete. “That'll be you soon,” I say to her.

She smiles and nods, before
setting her eyes back down to her work.

We stay out on the grass until
it gets too difficult for Tara to read her notes, then stand and walk
back towards my apartment. When we get in Tara sets down on the sofa
and dives immediately back into her work. The girl certainly isn't
failing to get a job through lack of effort.

I make the decision to go out
and leave her to it for the next few hours. She says I don't need to
leave, that this is my apartment and all that, but I insist.

“
I'll bring back a bottle of
wine and some food in a few hours babe,” I tell her. “You get
your head down and then we can relax and watch a film or something
later.”

Her smile and hug tells me all I
need to know. She's thanked me enough already, and I don't need to
hear it again.

It's about 8 PM when I head out,
not quite knowing what I'll do. It's not that I don't have friends in
the city - it's more that I don't like to drop in on people at the
last minute. It's never been my way. I'm more of a 'set a date and
stick to it' sort of girl.

The streets are busy as I stroll
around, considering my options. It's still warm, the smog hovering
above the city still carrying a bit of color. Groups of young people
are already getting drunk, walking down the street passing bottles of
spirit from one to the other. Bars are beginning to fill up, lines
already starting to form outside as the more popular ones reach
capacity.

I get looks as I walk. Mostly
from men, sometimes from women. They stand outside bars smoking and
watching as I pass by. I hear the odd word from some of them, the
sound of invitations reaching my ears. I get it almost every night
when I work, so am used to it. I guess it's flattering, but it's also
annoying.

I keep going, somewhat
aimlessly, before coming across a movie theater. I glance over the
different films on show, my eyes settling on a new action film
staring Bruce Willis. I've always quite liked him – that rugged,
'don't take no shit from anyone' type – so walk straight in and buy
a ticket from the self service machine.

The theater is pretty busy, but
this film's been around for a while, so no one's watching it. It
looks like everyone's lining up for some rom-com instead. Anne
Hathaway and Ryan Gosling. Now there's a pair.

The place is full of couples,
and for the briefest moment I feel a bit stupid for being there alone
on a Friday night. But I quickly move past it. I've got a thick skin
like that, something I've developed over the years. Some people would
think sitting alone in the movie theater is the worst thing in the
world, and frankly those people need to wise up and get a slap in the
face. If that's the toughest thing they have to face in life then
they need to step out of their comfort zone a bit more.