The Rescue (Part 1)

Zach had never been into The Daily Grind Café before that icy evening in January.  The warmth of the sweet coffee house was a welcome change from outside, where a thick blanket of grey clouds had, all day long, alternated releasing rain that froze and snow that melted.  His glasses fogged up and he removed them, along with his dark leather gloves. He stuffed the gloves into his coat pocket with one hand and waved his glasses with the other, clearing the fog.  Zach put the frames back on his face and joined the winding line at the counter.  He looked around.  The crowded tables held young couples sharing desserts, women with high buns on the backs of their heads gossiping over sandwiches, and lingering businessmen with furrowed brows, too-tight ties, and half-full cups of cold coffee typing furiously. A dark-headed man in a blue sweater sitting alone by the bar of creamers hacked into a crumpled napkin, apparently suffering from the same cold Zach’s roommate Gabe had, which is what had driven Zach in the first place to seek dinner outside of their tiny apartment. 

Zach sighed and shuffled through the line which thanks to poor architecture and the dinnertime rush, was blocking the door. All around him conversations buzzed, blending into one another like chattering chipmunks. High-heels clicked, babies cried, children whined, people yammered into cell phones. Zach watched people coming and going slip around each other like fish, paying no attention to one another.

“What can I get for you?” The barista asked, wiping her hands on her stiff apron.

“Um, chicken salad on wheat and a medium café au lait. Oh and a Greek salad and two of the big chocolate cookies to go, please. ” Zach said and doled out a ridiculous amount of money. But you’re really buying for Gabe too, and you’ll get several meals out of this. He reminded himself. 

“Okay, you got it. Your order will be up at the counter there in just a few minutes.”

“Thank you.” He said, stuffing the small amount of change into his wallet. There weren’t any empty tables nearby and he didn’t feel like weaving through the line of people more than once, so he leaned against a wall until his order was up. 

“Zach?” a voice called, and he turned around to see his food waiting for him.

“Thanks.” He said again, but no one seemed to hear him.

He tucked his to-go bag under his arm, held his plate with one hand, and coffee with the other, and headed past low bookshelves and tables to an only slightly less crowded part of the shop.

In the farthest corner, tucked between a bookshelf and a wide window, she sat alone, cradling a small mug and staring out the window as thick raindrops raced past each other. Her face was streaked with smudged makeup, stripes of purple and black on her cheeks and around her puffy eyes. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Zach reached out and lightly touched her arm.

She startled, sloshing the contents of the mug on a stack of bangles on her wrist. “Shit!” she gasped, jumping back from the table. “Yeah, I’m fine.”  The sleeves of her heather grey sweater were damp with tea. Her hands were half clenched as if she still held an invisible cup.

“I’m sorry.” He shifted the load of food he was carrying and yanked a napkin out from under the moss-colored plate his sandwich sat on. “Here you go.” He handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She whispered and began to mop up the tea.

“Let me get you another drink.” He offered. She held the soggy napkin awkwardly in her fist, as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

“No.” She turned her head to look out the window again, a blanket of dyed copper hair falling as a curtain between the two of them. “It’s fine. R-really.”

“Are you sure? I’m the one that made you spill it. I feel really bad about that.”

“It’s okay.” She tried to smile, but her thin lips only contorted as if she’d eaten a straight lime. “Thank you though.” She shook her head. A tear wiggled down her face, quickly followed by another. “God!” She huffed and hastily wiped them away.

Zach knew he should leave her alone. The businessman had finally packed up his laptop and left. Zach knew he should go and sit at that empty table and have his coffee before it got cold.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked the girl again.

“Yes.” She said hoarsely. She pressed her lips together and turned to face him. “Yes, I’ll be okay. Thank you though, for the…napkin.” She said, and looked down at the wet paper melting in her hand.

“Here.” He took it from her and set it on the edge of his plate that still didn’t have a nibble out of it. “I just don’t like to see pretty girls cry.”  

She chuckled. “Thanks, I guess.” She gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Do you want to sit down?”

He shifted from one foot to the other, the mug of coffee growing uncomfortably warm for his hand. “If you don’t mind. I’ll happily leave you alone.”

She shook her head, another humorless chuckle. “No, you won’t. You’re like a little lost puppy dog following around the dumbass you hope will be your master.”  No sooner did the words leave her mouth than did she regret it. “Oh my God.” She leaned her head back, color rising in her lightly freckled cheeks. “I-I am so, so sorry. Please just, um, forget—forget I said that and uh—oh my God. I—I didn’t mean it that way. I—I don’t know what I meant. I—“ She rubbed her eyes again, thick smears of mascara and eye shadow covering her fingers and running down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”  She repeated.

He put his plate on the table and sat down across from her. “It’s okay.” He smiled.

She shook her head. “No, it’s not. I’m so sorry. That was actually really rude.”

“I’ll get over it.” Zach said, and finally picked up his sandwich. “Promise. No harm done.”

“Okay.” She said.

Slowly, he chewed and swallowed a bite of chicken salad, working on what to say. “This is pretty good. Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes.” She said quietly. “It’s a pretty nice place.”

“What do you get when you come here?”

“Their tea is good.” She said, and brushed her hair out of her small green eyes. “I hate coffee so I get tea. And a cookie. Their chocolate chip peanut butter is super good.”

“Aw man, that does sound good. I just got regular chocolate, to take back for my roommate.”  A bright smile flashed across his face, as if he was practicing his audition for a toothpaste commercial.  “I love cookies.”

“I think everyone loves cookies.” She said, with a tiny smile of her own.

“Food in general is great.” He nodded, and took a long, slow sip of his coffee.  Where was he planning on taking this conversation?

“Yeah it is.”  She said, rubbing her finger against the grain of the wooden table.  She cocked her head to the side and stared out the large window again. New York City still rushed by in spite of the rain and sleet, which shimmered in the neon lights of businesses and buildings. Cabs, buses, and cars crept by, wipers flying across windshields.  The sun had melted behind the skyscrapers and the nightlife was rising.

“I—I should go.” The girl said suddenly.

“Oh.” Zach frowned. “I never even introduced myself. I’m Zach.”

She stood abruptly, so abruptly the table jolted and her chair nearly tipped backwards. “I—I just…I—I don’t know…I—“ She was flustered, her hands flying as she gathered her jacket, her cup, her denim messenger bag. “I—I just—“ She sighed and stopped. Her hands fell to her sides. “I’m Julia.” She finally said.

“Well, Julia, it’s nice to meet you.” He stood as well. “Can you…Are you alright to get home?” He felt stupid for asking. She was grown woman who got herself to the coffee shop and surely could get herself home. But he got the feeling she shouldn’t be alone.  

She stiffened, clutched tightly to the strap of her purse. “I’ll walk.” She said.

“By yourself? In the rain? Let me—”

She glared. “I can walk.”

He shook his head and threw his half-eaten sandwich into the to-go bag. “I’ll get you a cab.”

She didn’t say anything, just turned on her heel and stomped away. “Fine.” Zach muttered and dodged around tables to go after her.  Julia huffed as the pair pushed through the door. The air was thick with cold and the angry rain fell in sheets, a harsh drumming on the sidewalk.   Zach’s hair matted to his forehead almost immediately, as tiny pellets of numbing sleet melted on the back of his neck and rolled down his collar.

“Come on.” He said and stuck his hand in the air. “Taxi!” he called. A raindrop ran down his sleeve, creating a trail of goose bumps on the bare skin underneath. The traffic raced in their direction, oblivious to them.  Zach began to shuffle backwards, trying to get someone to pay attention. The paper bag that held his food was growing soggy.  He tucked it under his jacket and cradled it in his arm like a football to make sure it didn’t break. “Taxi!” he called again, and looked around through the blinding waterfall to see if Julia was still with him. She was, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as sorry protection from the rain.  Zach waved desperately at a passing cab, and his foot landed in a soupy puddle of slush with a squish of his converse. People with umbrellas and coats dodged around them. A yellow cab screeched to the curb, Zach ran for it. Julia slammed the door shut behind her, instantly creating a haven from the rain and wind.

“Are you okay?” Zach whispered to her. She was shaking a little. She nodded slowly, heavily, almost as if the weight of her head was too much for her neck to bare. Her damp hair dripped into her lap. She magically produced a hair tie from around her wrist and bundled it up on the back of her head.

“Where’re we headed kids?” the cabbie asked, raising his thick eyebrows at them in the mirror.

“7-35, 102^nd Street.” Julia murmured. Her hands directed twists and turns, but her eyes were locked on her low-heeled boots, which had turned from light tan to a deep wheat color in the rain.  The pair rode in shivering silence. The car heater wasn’t enough to make more than a small dent in the deep wet chill, and they were both too shy to ask the driver to turn it up. They navigated street after street, through marketplaces and clubs and crowd after crowd of people.

 “It’s the building on the right here.” Julia whispered, and fumbled around in her purse for her wallet as the driver pulled to the side.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zach pulled out his wallet. “I got this.”

“No. No, I don’t want you to do that.”

“I know.” he said. “I want to.”

“No, I can—“

“I’ve got this.” He held a credit card up between his fingers.

She sighed, looked for a moment angry, and then shook her head at him. “T-thank you.” She opened the door to the chaos of cold and rain.

“Hang on!” Zach called out. He pulled a receipt from his wallet. He stuck his hand in his coat pocket, desperately hoping he had a pen. He did.  He leaned forwards, scribbled on the back of the receipt, and handed it to her.  “Here’s my number.” Zach explained. “In case you need anything. Ever.”

She blinked a few times.  “Thank you.” She whispered, and ran through the rain up the stairs into her building.

The elevator dinged, a couple dressed to the nines paraded out, and Julia dashed to catch it on the way up. The doors slid shut. She leaned back against the wall, her own awful reflection looked back at her in the mirrored ceiling. Her eyes were swollen and rimmed in streaks of makeup. Her nose was bright red.  Locks of damp hair had escaped from her crooked, haphazard bun and curled around her ears. She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. What the hell happened tonight? She thought, pulled her phone out of her bag, and began to thumb through the messages.

From Austin: Hey listen bby I think we should break up

To Austin: What?! Why? What’s wrong??

From Austin: idk…after what u said the other day idk if u love me. you don’t want to prove it nemore. i cant kno u love me for sure

To Austin: Please call me…I do love you. We need to talk about this. We can fix it…

To Austin: Please please call me. We need to about it.

To Austin: Come on, don’t do this…Call me back babe.

And that was where he’d ended the messages.  Julia knew exactly what she’d said. The bell dinged, the doors opened, and she shuffled out down the hall.  She dug her key from her pocket and turned the lock.

She took two steps inside her door and then stopped.  The door was still open and the bright hallway light behind her cast her long, dishelved shadow across the fake wood floor…across the footrest of her stupid ugly recliner…across half of the low maroon couch in the middle of the room. She’d been sitting on that couch just two days before, trying to watch a movie with Austin.

His cool, rough hands had kept creeping across her stomach under her tee shirt, sliding up to slip two fingers under the underwire of her bra, or down to touch the waistband of her underwear.

“Cut it out.” She’d squirmed away to the other end of the couch and crossed her arms over her chest. “Babe, not tonight.”

“Aww, come on babe.” Austin had reached for her and put his hand on her hip.

“No.” Julia pushed him away. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

He had moved closer yet.  His hot, shaking breaths blew over her face, and he’d dotted three kisses up her the side of neck to her jaw, his rough lips leaving an invisible impression on her skin. “Don’t you love me?”

“Shut up. Of course I love you.” She told him, and planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek to prove it.  “Now, come on, let’s watch this movie.”

Austin had put his hand on her thigh, trying to trap her against the arm of the couch. “We’ve seen it.” He murmured. And there went his wandering hands again.

“I’m serious!” He’d tried to move in on her again; she’d grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him back. “Stop it, Austin.”

“It’s not like we ain’t never done it before babe.”

“I know.” Julia snapped. “I just—“

“You don’t love me.” He’d said.

“Stop talkin’ like that!” She’d smacked his arm. “I love you, Austin. “

He’d whipped his head around to face her, his hazel eyes drawing her into him. He knew…he knew that was what always got her.  “Then prove it.”  He wrapped his fingers around her arm so tightly, if Julia closed her eyes she could still feel him squeeze.  His fingernails had dug into her skin, leaving four stinging crescent moons behind.  He shoved her and the small of her back slammed into the arm of the couch. The pain shot a jarring throb through her spine and she ground her teeth. “Fuck, Austin!” she cried out.  She’d jumped to her feet with tears stinging her eyes and her back screaming in protest. “Get out!”

“Not until you fucking tell me why you won’t love me!”

“Because you’re an asshole!” She shouted, salty tears slipping to her lips and into her mouth. “Now would you please just go?”

“No.” He paced around the couch. “I ain’t leaving.”

“Do you want me to just say it, Austin?” Julia threw her hands up, ran them through her hair.  “I wish we’d never started this shit! All it does is make everything so damn complicated! I wish we’d never had sex! Okay?”

“You bitch—“ He started, but she cut him off.

“No! Do you hear me?” She pointed for the door, her heart hammering in her throat.  “Get out! Get the hell out!”

He pressed his lips together. “Fine.” He snapped. “But I ain’t done with you yet!  I ain’t done!” He’d slammed the door so hard the walls trembled.  

Julia sat down on the arm of the recliner, her cold wet hair dripping down her neck, her boots creating a path of tiny puddles wherever she walked.  “I don’t even remember what movie it was.” She chuckled to herself. The fight they’d had wasn’t anything new. In fact, that was one of their most regular arguments.

Julia took a shaky breath and flicked her phone back on. She hadn’t changed her background yet. It was a picture of the two of them just a couple weeks ago: Austin was sticking his tongue out, being a ham for the camera, his arm wrapped protectively around her as she smiled sweetly. 

“How does he do this to me?” she whispered aloud.  Being with Austin was like being blindfolded on a roller coaster—Absolutely terrifying and unpredictable.

For her birthday last July, he’d taken her for a day at the beach in Jersey and packed a picnic. He’d been the perfect gentleman with his flowers and his ice cream and his perfectly imperfect smile. They’d taken a quiet walk by the water, the waves lapping at their ankles as the sun dove into the ocean.  He’d shown off, his husky tan arms perfectly straight as he walked on his hands through the damp sand. She’d giggled and scampered behind to tiptoe in his soft handprints.  They’d cuddled, and they’d laughed, and it was days like that that made Julia remember why she’d found him so completely wonderful in the first place.

But then he would go and say shit like the other night. He was insecure, really, the way he was constantly accusing Julia of not loving him enough.  She unlocked her phone and looked through her other texts from Austin.

From Austin: Hey babe, what’s up?

Then, less than an hour later, when she didn’t answer.

From Austin:  Hey, where are you?

From Austin: Why isn’t ur phone on? Everything okay?

To Austin: yeah, sorry! I was just running some errands and my phone died.

From Austin: O well leave ur phone on…I would’ve come w/ u.

To Austin: Sry!

Maybe it was my fault. She thought. Maybe I should’ve loved him better…Maybe he was right.

The next text she’d sent him was a picture of a flyer for pottery classes. I miss art! :( Julia had told him. They’re even looking for teachers! Think I should?

From Austin: It’d take up so much of ur time, babe! I already don’t see you enough b/c of wrk! :(

Is that it? Was that his problem that we didn’t spend enough time together?

A loud knock made her jump. “Julia?”  She turned around, and it was Megan, her across-the-hall neighbor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Julia jumped up and quickly wiped her eyes. “No. No it’s okay.” She said. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I was afraid you might’ve gotten broken into or somethin’. The door’s been wide open for awhile, but all your lights are off and everything.”

“No.” Julia said. “I just got home and didn’t, um, just didn’t get settled yet. I’m okay.” She said quickly. “Have a good night.”

Megan raised an eyebrow. “Okay, honey.” She said slowly. “I’m just looking out for ya. Have a good night.”  She shut the door and went across the hall to her perfect little girl and her perfect little husband and her perfect little family.

Julia sighed, sat back down on the edge of the recliner, and pulled up a new text.

To Austin: Babe, I’m so sorry…Can we fix this again? Tell me what I did.

Then she deleted it.

Zach stumbled through the doorway.  Everything was numb—His face, his fingers, his feet.  His hair dripped into his eyes, his glasses were fogged up again, and his damp jacket was now only serving to seal the cold in instead of keep it out.  He kicked off his soggy sneakers and removed his coat. “Hey Gabe.” He called out as he hung his jacket up in the closet.  “I brought food, man.” His jeans stuck to his legs, uncomfortably adhered by the icy rain.  Zach opened the fridge and stuck the fragile paper bag of food next to bottles of soda and left-over pizza. Zach shook his head. What’s the use of having a culinary student for a roomie if he doesn’t cook at home?

He finally looked up to realize Gabe was out cold, sound asleep on the couch. His mouth hung wide open, his long legs dangled over the end.  An open bag of Cheetos sat on the table, and the TV was blaring the end of the first Transformers movie.  Zach crossed the room and flicked the TV off, leaving the room dark except for a single light bulb by the front door.  Gabe stirred, propped himself up on an elbow, and rubbed his eyes. “Hey. Hey, I was watching that.” He mumbled, his voice foggy with sleep and congestion. “Turn it back on.”  

Zach rolled his eyes. “’Kay man.” He did as he was told.  

Gabe’s eyes slid shut again, caramel lids covering dark chocolate eyes. “Asshole.” He muttered.  

They were both too tired to pick a fight.  “I’m going to bed, man. There’s food in the fridge.” Gabe only snored softly in reply.

Their apartment was T-shaped, with a microscopic entryway, tiny kitchenette, and a living area forming the vertical part, and a bathroom and two bedrooms creating the horizontal part.   Zach locked himself in the bathroom, turned on the shower, and peeled off his soaking clothes.  He was so cold his numb flesh tingled and burned under the hot water. “Oh.” He sighed. It felt so good to warm up. Why did I take Julia home? He wondered. He didn’t know her. He’d never done anything like that before. She just needed someone to help her out. He told himself. You were just doing the right thing. You did the right thing. Zach washed his hair, then turned slow circles under the water. He didn’t want to get out, but he knew if he stayed in much longer they wouldn’t be able afford the water bill.  Lord. Zach prayed silently as he turned the water off. This internship is an amazing blessing and opportunity and I thank You for it. And class credits are great…but a little money would really be nice too. He stepped out of the shower in a cloud of steam.

He pulled on boxers, pajama pants, and a tee shirt, and fiercely dried his hair with a towel. It felt so short compared to the shaggy mop he’d donned since high school, but he had to admit the crew-cut was far more professional and classy.  The Jack-and-Jill bathroom had three doors, one to the main part of the apartment and one to each of the bedrooms.  Zach took the one to the far left, to his room. 

He laid down in his bed, but it was only a bit before ten and he knew he wouldn’t sleep this early.  Why was she crying? He thought, rolling over and resting his chin in his hand.  I wish I knew how to help her…What time to I have to be at the office tomorrow? Did I ever get an email from Dave about that?  He reached for his phone, and found nothing but spam mail and a text from his little sister Hailey.

From Hailey: V-ball got first in regionals!! :D

He grinned and texted her back: Congrats! Proud of you!

I should really call my family…Zach thought, his mouth stretching open in a wide lion’s yawn. I wonder if Julia lives alone…Is she gonna be okay tonight? This is stupid, Zach…It might not even be that big of a thing she was upset over.  Awesome, now I’m arguing with myself…but she was awfully upset.

“Okay, God.” He sighed, rolling over and getting to his feet. “You’re keeping her on my mind for a reason.”  He went to his desk and retrieved his Bible from its spot on top of his blinking laptop. The paperback spine was cracked; the pages were creased and marked up with highlighter and colored pencil. Notes that only made sense to Zach were squeezed in nearly every margin. The New International Translation Study Bible for Teens had been a gift from his parents when he was confirmed into the church at fourteen.  The book was dog-eared, the back cover was nearly falling off, and a dozen sticky notes and random scraps of paper stuck out every edge, placed strategically in a time of need.  Zach sat back down on his bed and flipped through the pages, not really sure what he was looking for.  He read highlighted psalms and noticed he’d put a smiley face sticker next to a devotional idea that he didn’t remember doing. He stopped on a page in Proverbs half-covered up by a large sticky note, worn and faded from being sandwiched for years, and lightly coated in smudged graphite. The message itself had been written and re-written over the years: Blue magic marker on top of ink pen on top of pencil.

When you think God can’t use you, just remember:

·         Noah was a drunk

·         Abraham was too old

·         Leah was ugly

·         Joseph was abused

·         Moses stuttered

·         Elijah was suicidal

·         Mary Magdalene was…Well, Mary Magdalene.

·         Jonah ran from God

·         Job went bankrupt

·         Lazarus was DEAD!

·         And…He’s not done with you yet!

Zach nodded, and pressed his lips together. “Okay Lord…I am Yours.” He closed his eyes, remembering a devotional he’d led at youth group several years ago. “Abba…” he whispered. It was the Hebrew word for “daddy” and how Jesus had begun The Lord’s Prayer. “Abba, I am Yours. Abba, I am Yours.”  Zach could still feel the heartbeat of thirty people chanting the phrase, as he softly chanted it himself.  “Abba I am all Yours.” He bit down on his lip, eyes still shut. “Abba…Father. Just…show me what I’m supposed to do.”