Spoiler! :
Trudging in the rain through the inner city, I decide three a.m. is the loneliest time of the day. I have just finished my shift at a bar called A Hole In The Wall - classy, I know. It was the only business that accepted my application. With the economy the way it is, I should be thankful. Sure, it isn’t in the best part of town - actually, it’s the worst. But I’m gaining some real-life experience, I chant in my head. This will be part of a story I’ll tell to my grandkids or at an award ceremony about my rise to fame.
I arrive at my bus stop. I’m early and, regardless, my bus is always late. Across the street, a hooker winks at me and eyes my umbrella eagerly. I look away, pacing to keep warm. The streetlight beside the bus stop flickers for a second.
Someone grumbles. I turn with a start. A figure is curled up on the
bus stop bench dressed in all black to blend in completely. An urban
camouflage, I smile at the idea. The figure rolls over, rubbing its eyes with a yawn. My curiosity gets the better of me and I scan the figure’s face. A piece of long blond hair slips from the hood of its windbreaker. My gaze meets its incandescent green eyes.
“Whatcha looking at, creep?” it rasps. I don’t advert my eyes. I recognize that voice. The drawl that seems to belong to a longtime chain-smoker even though the owner has never lit a cigarette in her life.
“Kalli?” I question, aghast, squinting through the drizzle.
Her eyes widen a bit. “Who wants to know?”
“I - Oliver. We went to the same high school. We went out a couple of times.”
“Oh... I remember you.” She snorts. “What the hell brings you here at this time?”
“Well -” I begin.
“Oh! I bet you’re a doctor now,” Kalli cuts me off. “Bet the shift work is a bitch.”
“Probably. But I’m not going to be a doctor.”
She sits up. “Why not? You got accepted to med school and everything. Your dad is the Dean of Medicine - you
could work at any hospital in the country.”
“You have a good memory.”
“That’s all you talked about when we were together, Oliver.”
“Is that why you broke up with me?”
Kalli gestures around her, scoffing, “Aren’t you glad I did?”
I don’t say anything right away, I just think of all the rumors about the reason Kalli dropped out that I heard back when we were seniors. Although, you can’t ever really trust the hearsay that goes around the hallways of high school. Besides, Kalli and I were over by then and none of my friends wanted to bring her up with me around. Though, as I remember, the speculation was that Kalli fell head over heels for a drug dealer - or, from the looks of it, maybe just for his drugs.
The rain is falling harder now. I settle onto the bench beside Kalli, shielding her with my umbrella. The streetlight blinks. A police cruiser lingers, daring us with its headlights. Finally, it passes.
“What happened to you?” I query softly. Kalli rubs her hands together to keep warm. Her fingernails are chewed down to the quick.
“I screwed up. And then I screwed up again. And again.” Even with the windbreaker and several layers underneath it, I can tell Kalli’s all skin and bones. Her hair is greasy and there are dark bags under her eyes. Despite that, she is naturally pretty. She’s the type of girl that doesn’t need to wear makeup. I recall the time I told her how many people agreed that she was gorgeous. Kalli just laughed and said, I can’t take credit for my genes.
“You know when your parents and teachers,” she continues, “tell you that drugs are bad?”
“Yep.”
“We should believe them.”
The air seems heavy, resting its clammy tendrils on my shoulders. I feel a little claustrophobic, squeezed under my umbrella with Kalli. The raindrops pound out their own rhythm, harmonizing with the splash of the water cascading down the gutter into the sewer.
“But enough about me,” she continues with a glimmer in her eyes, “I want to hear why you’re not a doctor.”
“I really don’t wa-”
“Come on, Oliver. You should know that’s not going to work with me.”
I sigh. She hasn’t become any less stubborn. “I dropped out.”
“Of med school! You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope. Here’s the best part,” I shake my head slowly, “Ask me what I am doing now.”
“What are you doing know?”
“I’m painting. I want to be an artist.”
“My God…” she sighs in awe.
“Oh, and bar tending every spare minute, which I should thank you for teaching me how to do.”
“No problem. It’s a life skill. Plus, it was an excuse to get you drunk.”
I chuckle. “Yep. You have a knack for corrupting teenage boys.”
“It’s my day job.” Kalli surrenders a smile, then scrunches her forehead. “Wait, why do you have to work? Didn’t
your daddy bankroll a gallery for you or something?”
“He wasn’t happy about my career switch.”
“Which means?” The rain is subsiding.
“He stopped talking to me,” I decode, hesitating before continuing, “I got a letter from my parent’s lawyer
yesterday saying they cut me out of their will.”
Kalli holds my gaze when she says, “I’m sorry.”
Those two words from a junkie mean more to me than she will know. I watch her gather her hair at the nape of her neck and secure it with a dirty rubber band from her pocket.
“But do people like them? I mean, are your paintings selling?”
“Nope. Can barely pay my landlord. I’m renting an apartment over a Chinese restaurant in the west end.”
“I would invite you to stay with me but I, like, hate roommates.” Kalli’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’ll survive. It’s what I want to do with my life.”
“Even if everyone thinks you’re crazy?”
“They already do.”
“Join the club,” she murmurs softly. “I haven’t talked to my parents in almost two years.” Kalli starts to chew at her already stubby fingernails.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that, so I stare straight ahead, trying to decipher the graffiti on the side of a warehouse. The streetlight shudders and goes out completely. The rain has stopped so I shake off my umbrella and collapse it.
“Kalli.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you need help?”
“Why do you say that? Maybe I choose to sleep on benches in rainstorms.”
“I’m not joking.”
She sighs. “I don’t have anyone to help me.”
“Sounds to me like you haven’t tried. Aren’t you even serious about getting sober?”
“Of course! Don’t give me a sermon. I just, I - you wouldn’t understand.”
“I am certain your parents would help you get clean if you asked. Maybe you could stay with them.”
“Weren’t you listening, Oliver? I haven’t seen them in two years. Two! And the last time I saw them, I walked out
with my mother’s pearls stuffed in my pocket.” Kalli snaps.
“They’re your parents. They’ll forgive you. You aren’t the same person that did that.”
“What do you propose I do?” she retorts.
“Don’t push your parents away. Tell your mother you need help. Prove to them you deserve another chance and earn back their trust.”
Kalli shivers and grumbles, “You should follow your own advice.”
“I’m a wimp, remember?”
“Look at us. How’d we get this screwed up?”
“We’re not.”
“Face the music, Ollie. We’re walking disasters.”
It feels good to hear that. To be sitting here, not pretending to be what everyone wanted me to be. In the shadows of the night, I let my guard down for a minute, relishing the freedom. I make out the strained rumble of the bus ascending the incline to meet me. Then the streetlight illuminates once more, casting its murky halo back on its two disasters.
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