A Step to Nowhere (3 page)
Ray put the empty cups into the dishwasher and found a clean glass. He tossed in a few pieces of ice from the freezer and poured Bourbon over it, and then went to the living room where he stopped by the window. Rain drummed on the windowpane; cars like smeared watercolor spots, swam by on the road below. It was going to be sunny by tomorrow afternoon and the air would be clean, infused with ozone. He liked this city. He could easily imagine himself living here, even though there was a huge difference between here and there. He could leave business there to his trusted people, checking their work from time to time, while getting lost here. He could stop thinking about problems, about happenings, about horrors that had been lasting for years, and stop thinking about responsibility. He could stop thinking about all of it and just live. Just love, just eat, just sip this strange drink.
Ray shook the glass, listening to the quiet knock of the ice cubes, and took a sip. Liquid burned his throat, slid down to his stomach. Bourbon.
“Bour-bon.” He rolled the word like a pebble in his mouth. “I like it.”
He sat on the couch and grabbed a long, light-colored strand of hair from the surface, with his fingers.
She loved him, she really did. He realized that after the first few seconds, when she had turned to him and looked into his eyes. If his wife had only looked at him like that, even once. Probably that was why everything had happened. He didn’t plan it, but everything he had told her was the truth. That was what he felt and that was what he wanted. She believed his every word. She …
“If only my wife were like that.”
He loved his wife; that was the problem. Because of this love, he took steps for which he forgave himself only because he had known why he had been doing it. His wife wasn’t like Sam. They were two different people, no matter how much they had looked alike. He didn’t expect this passion, this trust, this dedication. Sam was so vulnerable, so eager, and so selfless. It meant she had been waiting for him all this time. It was such luck that he was correct. It was such luck that no one made a mistake.
Ray chuckled.
“Was it luck?”
He took another sip of his drink, slipped a piece of ice into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue over his palate. It was time to go to bed and tomorrow he would decide what to do next.
He finished his whisky, put the empty glass with half melted ice on the table, and ran his finger along its rim. His mother asked about the glasses; he had to grab one to bring with him.
Before going to the bedroom Ray twisted a cell phone in his hand. He wanted to hear her voice, or even better, he wanted her beside him.
“It’s not right,” he said as he threw the phone on the couch. “All of it is
not
right.”
I hadn’t woken completely, but rushed to the living room, tangling in my own legs. It was him. I pulled the phone out of my bag and pressed it to my ear. The phone rang one more time before it fell silent.
I looked at the black screen. He hadn’t called. Not him. Not Ray. It was the phone I’d found on the ground. A stranger lost it. I picked up the jacket I had dropped on the back of the chair and found a flat, blue device. I didn’t like this style; I liked to feel at least
some
weight in my hand. Jason gave me an iPhone four months ago for our second anniversary, because my old one fell in the water. The new phone had only a touch screen and I hated trying to fit my fingers on the sensitive buttons. A week of irritation and cursing before my new, expensive phone landed in the bathtub. I had gone to the store myself and had gotten a touch screen plus a full keyboard BlackBerry.
The name of the caller appeared on the screen. Only the name was strange; “2”. Who would call their friends by numbers? Or family members? Actually, if you thought about it, why not? Just remember who you hid under the number. You would know who had called, but curious and accidental people like me stayed uninformed. It was a good idea. I could number some of my friends and my mom would not ask too many questions when checking my phone again “by mistake”. Or Jason. He considered it normal to take my phone and go through my calls. Would he ask what the numbers were? Or … would I see him again? Of course, this weekend. Only, he wouldn’t have a chance to check my calls.
I shrugged away the thoughts about my almost ex-boyfriend and focused on the stranger’s phone. In addition to the number 2, I had discovered the number 1. That was it. One and two, nothing else.
“Hmmm. This guy is very social. Where should I call? Too many choices.”
I decided that number two would be better since that person had just called. Curiosity got the best of me and I opened the app for text messages. So what? The owner wasn’t going to find out and I deserved some compensation for my good intentions. At least my curiosity should be satisfied.
Received messages.
We need more pictures. The date is almost here.
That was the first I had opened.
He wants to receive reports more often.
That was the second.
We haven’t received any reports. What happened?
So boring. Who was he? An accountant? I switched from messages
received
to messages
sent
. Maybe something more interesting was there. For example – I had an upset stomach last night and had to make my report sitting on the toilet. A part of it went into the water and I need to redo it now.
Ha-ha.
Left the building.
First message. Left the building. And? This person needed to contact a matchmaking service or hang himself. No one could live like this. Even though for some people it probably was normal and not boring. Could it be?
It was the first message, but the last of the ones he had sent. It meant the rest were going to be from the end to the beginning.
Returned from lunch.
Went to lunch. Cut off a Toyota on her drive back and flashed a middle finger to the driver when he sounded the horn at her for her mistake.
Entered the building.
Left the building. Dressed in a gray jacket and jeans. Red bag and shoes. Mood was good. Stayed at home alone.
I transferred my gaze from the phone to my gray jacket.
Gray jacket.
My jeans were in the bedroom on the floor. Red bag and red shoes in the hallway.
I turned to the phone slowly and went to the next message.
From the store, right home. Only two bags. She bought milk, cream, croissants, tomatoes, apples, ice-cream, two bars of chocolate “Ritter sport” and Lipton tea. She suggested to the lady at the cash register that she smile at the customers. The lady didn’t answer, but didn’t look happy. She looked happy.
I swallowed and licked my lips. My mouth went dry. The day before yesterday I had gone to the store and bought everything on the list in the message. The “lady at the cash register” was in a bad mood or maybe she just hated her job, so she kept her lips pressed tight. She was rude to the old lady before me and looked at my French manicure with hatred. I just suggested that she smile at the customers and try to be polite. I had forgotten about it when I left the store.
When I opened the next message my hands trembled.
Entered the store.
Exited the building.
Didn’t leave for the lunch break.
Entered the building, stumbled by the door, and said some bad words from the list.
Left the apartment building. A blue dress, yellow bag and shoes. Her bag was heavy; she passed it from one hand to the other while walking to her car. The young man left earlier.
The phone fell out of my hand and landed on the floor with a muffled thud. I wanted to fall beside it, but I held on to the table and sat down on the chair. A sense of unreality covered me completely; I was in a vacuum. All noises ceased to exist and fog was in front of my eyes. Yesterday I was in the same condition but it was a happy self-forgetfulness, today it was unconscious fear.
I had no idea how long I had been sitting like this before I heard another call. It was my phone now, but I was afraid to stand up. I took a breath and grabbed the phone. I answered it when I saw the number I’d remembered since yesterday.
“How was your night?”
I wanted to answer that it was good, but my lips felt glued. I licked them and said, “It was good.”
The words came out crackly like an old gate. I went to the kitchen to drink some water.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No. Just a second.”
Without putting the phone down, I poured some filtered water in a glass and took a few gulps.
“Sorry.” I put the glass on the table and went to the living room.
“Your voice is strange. Are you okay?”
I picked up the blue phone and sat on the couch; I needed to sit.
“Sam?”
“Sorry, I’m just a little … I need a second.”
“You have regrets about yesterday?” His voice was showing an open worry.
“No … It’s not about you. I mean … How can I regret something I wanted?”
“What then? I can hear that something’s wrong.”
“I haven’t seen you in five years, we’ve just met. I can’t involve you in something I don’t understand myself.”
“Listen, it’s
undurah
.”
“What?”
There was a second of silence.
“I mean bullshit. Time doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is us. Now you know what I think about you and how I feel. If you have problems I want to know about it. I want to be involved, I want to help.”
I didn’t answer right away. I also wanted him to care about me; I wanted to go with him through everything that life would bring, but I didn’t know what was going on. Should I call the police or Jason? Or my mom? No, not my mom, she would have a heart attack.
I glanced at the blue phone, turned it in my hand. Ray was waiting silently.
“I think someone is following me.”
“Following you? Why? Who? What do you mean?”
I had started to forget how much he talked and how many questions he asked. It even brought a smile to my face.
“Sam? Who’s following you?”
“Remember I found a phone last night?”
“No, yesterday everything was … Actually … I think I do.”
“The person who walked behind me dropped it. He ran into me when I stopped. But he disappeared so fast that I couldn’t see if it was a man or a woman. This person, let’s say it was a man, has lost his phone, and I checked it today so I could try to find the owner. I did a bad thing, I must admit; I checked his messages.”
“And what?”
Patience was not his strong point, I remembered that. When we used to work together, when we tried to ignore each other with all our might, and yelled at each other in especially critical moments, he, always full of energy, demanded immediate answers for any questions he could possibly find. When he was doing business—he was doing business with no sentiments or hesitation. I like that about him. Unlike Jason, who needed to check something ten times before making a decision. It had never mattered to Ray what problems I had, no matter how much we hated each other (pretended to hate) he was always there, helping me if I needed it.
“Sam, please. I’ll do anything for you.”
“I know.”
“What did you find?”
“Just messages about my movements. Somebody reported to somebody my
every
step. Including my clothes, my purchases, and my conversation with a cashier in a store.”
“Wait, wait. You found a schedule of your everyday activities in the stranger’s phone?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying it and my head has started to spin. I’m kind of scared. I don’t understand who it was or why. They now know that they’ve lost the phone. They might even know I found it. What does it mean?”
“Wait, don’t panic.”
“You should remember that I’ve always been a panic monger and an emotional wreck.”
“I wouldn’t say you’ve been an emotional wreck. Have you noticed anyone watching you?”
“No, never. I’m in shock. But I didn’t pay attention! How would I know if someone was following me? Why? It doesn’t make sense. I don’t own any government secrets; I’m not a spy or a millionaire. I’m just a magazine editor.”
“Are you involved in politics?”
“What politics? I work with show business.”
“What about enemies? Do you have enemies? Rejected admirers?”
I lay on my side and pulled my knees to my chest.
“No. I mean, not that I know of. Ray, I can’t talk.”
Suddenly, I felt physically, all the horror of the situation. I felt as if all the bones had been removed from my body and I was covered with a two-hundred pound blanket.
“I’m coming over, right now.”
“They could be watching the building. And I need to get to work.”
“Sam, something weird is going on, what work? You can’t go on with your business like nothing is happening. We need to find out who these people are and what they want. It could be a stalker. These people are crazy, you don’t know what to expect.”
Suddenly, I wanted to bring back yesterday. I wanted everything to remain the way it was. My life wasn’t that bad for me to want to change it. Dreams could stay dreams. I might have lived in an imaginary world, but I had known who was behind my back and what to expect from the next day. Now, to my horror and surprise, I understood that there was a shroud before my eyes. I was in a thick, impenetrable fog and didn’t know where to go. What should I expect from my next step? Was that what I wanted? Really?
“I’m coming,” Ray said.
“I prefer to come to you.”