CLARICE IS SITTING CROSS-LEGGED ON THE FLOOR of her apartment in Gateway Village, surrounded by stacks of paper and various pamphlets. The French doors that open onto the tiny balcony that overlooks Trade Street are open and the sun is spilling in along with a pleasant early evening breeze which brings along with it tempting smells of food from the restaurant downstairs.
The phone rings and she leans slightly to the left, scoops up her bag and digs around in it furiously, attempting to locate its whereabouts before the call rolls over to voicemail. She grabs it on the last ring.
 "Hey Clarice...it's Marshall. What are you doing?"
"Reading stuff."
"What kinda stuff?"
"The Historic Landmark Commission's report on the Owens House. Some pamphlets about a car I'm thinking about getting."
"A car? But you don't even drive."
"I know, I know. But I think it's about time I do. I need to get out and explore the world some and not have to rely on you and Saul to get me there."
"What are you thinking about buying?"
"You seen those little two-seaters around town? Really small?
"Yeah. I think so. Called the 'Smart 4-2' or something like that, right?"
"That's it."
"I haven't seen many of them. But I do remember a very funny episode of 'Absolutely Fabulous' with Patsy and Edina trying to drive one around Paris. Patsy couldn't get her hair to fit in."
Clarice chuckles. "I had forgotten about that until you mentioned it."
"Those are very small; I doubt I could even fit in to one."
"I don't know. Some of the reviews say there's plenty of leg room for tall people. I wanted to go take a test drive. Wanna come with?"
"How are we gonna get there?"
"My point exactly. You, of course. But if I buy this car you won't have to tote my sorry ass around anymore."
"Okay. I'm game. When you want to go?"
"Tomorrow afternoon around one o'clock?"
"Sounds good."
"Cool. See you...”
"Hey, wait a second! What's going on with the exhibit and the house?"
"In a nutshell ... I've photographed the house extensively inside and out, talked with the Historic Landmarks Commission a couple of times about the fate of the house, and the exhibit, as you know, opens in two weeks—on a Friday at 7 p.m."
"That's not much time."
"I'm all set. It's good. Really."
"The fate of the house?"
"It's okay for the time being. I have to run. Saul's knocking on the door. Bye, Marsh!"
Clarice rises from the floor and pads over to the door.
"Saul?" She asks.
"No, baby it's your friendly neighborhood stalker. You want some action?
She pulls the safety chain from the door and throws it wide open.
"Sure...I'm all yours!"
Saul leans in through the doorway, wrapping his arms around Clarice's tiny waist and sliding his hands up and down her back, as he kisses her deeply.
He pushes his body against hers as they stumble lightly against the wall, grinding his groin against hers.
She abruptly pulls her mouth away from his.
"Hang on a sec!"
"But why? I haven't seen you in so long I can't remember how many days!"
"I know...I've missed you, too. But I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat first and then we'll come back up here."
"But Clarice...look what you're doing to me," he says almost pleadingly, as he glances downward. Let's play first and then go get something to eat."
He pushes his mouth against hers again and slowly backs her towards the bedroom.
IT'S HALF PAST ONE ON MONDAY AFTERNOON AND MARSHALL AND CLARICE are standing in the Mercedes–Benz of South Charlotte showroom checking out the exterior of the Smart Fortwo. No sales people have noticed them just yet, so they have a few minutes to examine it unencumbered by any hard sales pitches.
"I'm loving this," says Clarice. "It's like we're invisible or something for a minute."
"Don't worry. We won't be for long."
At six-foot-four, Marshall looks like a behemoth standing next to the microscopic roadster.
"It's amazing how small this really is," says Marshall. "I don't think I have ever seen a car quite so tiny."
"Yes, it is tiny," a deep voice from behind announces. "But plenty of leg room, even for a tall drink of water like yourself." Marshall feels a hand resting on his shoulder and turns around to find himself gazing into a pair of the warmest dark brown eyes he's even seen.
For a brief second, he's speechless.
"I'm Ryan Wu," the man says, removing his hand from Marshall's shoulder and extending it to shake.
"You thinking about a Smart Fortwo?"
Marshall continues to gaze in to Ryan's eyes, unresponsive to his question and his extended hand. Clarice nudges Marshall in the shoulder.
"He's not, but I am," Clarice announces.
Marshall grabs Ryan's hand with a firm grip and shakes it a couple of times.
"I'm Marshall and this is my friend Clarice and she's the one who's looking," he says somewhat nervously.
"Actually, Marshall, it looks like you're the one who's doing the looking," she whispers into his ear. Without a single glance in Clarice's direction he jabs her with his left elbow and continues to talk. "Any chance we could take one for a test drive?"
"Yes, of course. I'll need to copy your driver's licenses and I can get you the keys."
Marshall reaches into his back pocket for his wallet and produces his license.
Ryan turns to Clarice. "I'll need yours, too."
"Oh, mine's expired. I'm getting it renewed next week."
"So you're not planning on driving today?"
"No, he'll be doing the driving today," she says, patting Marshall on the back gingerly.
"That's fine," says Ryan. "Be right back with the keys."
He turns and walks towards a bay of offices at the far end of the display room.
Marshall watches him as he makes his way through display cars and other customers.
"Marshall, you see something you like?"
"Maybe. He's awful cute. But I couldn't really tell...you know...my gaydar wasn't going off."
"Mine was. You should talk to him when we get back. You haven't had a date in months."
"I know. You don't have to remind me."
Ryan returns a few minutes later with a set of keys.
"Come this way," he says, as he guides them through glass doors that open from the showroom to the exterior sales lot.
"I've picked out a Smart Passion Cabriolet for you. It's a pretty day outside and I thought you might enjoy a ride in the sun. Are you familiar with the transmission on the Smart Fortwo?"
"I am," says Clarice. "Semi-automatic, no clutch, manual and automatic options."
"Very good," says Ryan. "I can tell you've been studying."
Marshall does a double take.
"What the... I'm used to a standard or an automatic. How does this one work?"
"You can drive it as a standard, or an automatic," says Ryan.
"He drives a 1962 Comet," Clarice giggles. "Kinda stuck in mid-20th century technology."
"Really?" asks Ryan. "I'm a big fan of vintage cars. Did you drive it here?"
"It's right out front," Marshall replies. "Go take a look at it if you like. I think I left it unlocked."
"Thanks. I will."
He opens the driver's door of the car and hands the keys to Marshall.
"Enjoy your ride."
Marshall turns the key in the ignition and the engine starts up quietly.
He glances at Clarice with one raised eyebrow. "Sounds nice, huh?"
"Yeah. You can barely hear it."
Marshall pulls the car onto Polk Street and heads in the direction of Highway 51.
"I thought we'd take a drive down Main Street Pineville!" Marshall says excitedly.
"Don't get too wild on me, boy," Clarice replies sarcastically.
"There's a public park over here just across the railroad tracks. We'll pull in there and let you take it for a spin around the parking lot."
"Oh yaay! I get to drive."
Marshall makes a left onto Reid Lane towards Jack Hughes Park.
"Not much back here," says Clarice.
"I guess you could call it a little off the beaten path. I've never seen a lot of people around this park."
Marshall wheels the tiny machine into a parking space.
"It handles very crisply. Maybe it's because I'm so tall, but I feel like I'm driving a go-kart."
"Check out this sound system, Marsh. It's got an MP3 dock and it can hold six CDs."
"Nice. What's the mileage like?
"Something over sixty, I remember that."
"Glad you like your damn car so much. I do, too. I think I'll take it. Now get the fuck out!"
Clarice and Marshall were so engrossed in the car's interior appointments that they hadn't seen the small, middle-aged man carrying a gun come from behind the bushes and bee-line straight for them.
"Get out!" He shouts angrily.
"Okay," Clarice says softly. "It's yours. Take it."
The gruff-looking man waves the gun at them and then away from the car.
"Now! Move!"
They both step out of the car simultaneously and back away.
The little man scrambles in to the still-running car, pops it in reverse and backs up quickly as Clarice and Marshall jump out of the way.
Smoke burns from the tires as he screeches away, leaving the two standing in an empty parking lot.
Marshall scratches his head and looks at Clarice. "You have your cell phone on you?"
~ David Moore
* A mixture of fact and fiction, Elmwood Park is a serial exclusive to Uptown.
To catch up on previous editions, go to the archives section of this website.
|
