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CLARICE IS WRAPPED IN A BLANKET and propped up on the end of the sofa staring out the window of her Gateway Village apartment. The wind is exceptionally strong today, and she can see the tops of the trees dancing back and forth in the mid-morning sunlight as a mournful tune emanates from the stereo.
I've been burned by love, fooled by deception
Though times have changed I still feel the pain
I would hold back my true emotions
And if someone got close I would change my direction
You walked into the picture
Right into my soul
I knew from the first night together
I never had a chance
I'm in over my heart this time
Don't know how I could be so blind
I was playin' it safe, but I made a mistake
Ignoring the danger signs
I'm in over my heart, over my heart this time
Saul pads softly into the living room, naked.
“Hey baby what you listening to?”
Startled, Clarice jumps as she turns her gaze from the window towards Saul.
“I didn't even hear you come in.”
“I was quiet. How long you been up? Why’d you leave me in there all alone?”
“I couldn't sleep. A couple of hours, I guess. I didn't mean to leave you alone — I just didn't want to wake you up. I'm glad you stayed over last night.
“I'm glad, too.”
Saul's olive skin and taut frame appeal to Clarice — both physically and artistically. Her eyes wander from the dark hair and eyes to the full lips and over his smooth, mostly hairless body.
“I like your outfit,” she says flirtatiously. “But you know you're standing naked in front of a huge window, right?”
“Who cares? Who's looking way up here except you? And I like it when you look at me that way.”
Clarice fishes into the magazine rack at the end of the sofa and pulls out a pair of binoculars.
“You see these?”
Saul nods.
“Some of my most relaxing evenings have been spent on this couch, watching the world. Trust me —I've seen quite a few of my neighbors with a similar pair of binoculars.”
“I didn't know you were a peeping Tom, Clarice.”
“You can call me a peeping Clarice.”
I've been burned by love, fooled by deception
Though times have changed I still feel the pain
I would hold back my true emotions
And if someone got close I would change my direction
“Who is singing this horribly sad song and why are you listening to it?”
“It's Laura Branigan. Somebody I used to listen to a lot when I was a little girl. Now go put some clothes on and we'll get some brunch.”
“Never heard of Laura Branigan. Everything she did was sad?”
“She died a few years back, but I think her career was in a slump before you ever came to this country. No reason for you to have heard of her, I guess. But she did some upbeat dancey kind of stuff, too. I'll play it for you sometime.”
MARSHALL IS WALKING HIS DOG in Independence Park. The Labrador-Shepherd mix puppy is only about eight months old, but he’s still pretty sizable. He tugs on his leash as another dog nears, being walked by a man with a shaved head and blond chin stubble. Marshall recognizes him from the bar at NOFO on Elizabeth Avenue.
“Hey, man. Nice dog.”
“Thanks,” says Marshall. “Just got him a few weeks ago at the Humane Society. You work at NOFO, right?”
“Yeah, I do. We’ve talked before. My name’s Price.”
“I’m Marshall. Your dog’s beautiful. What breed is she?”
“Canadian Eskimo. A friend of mine passed away a couple of years ago when I was living in Toronto and he asked me to take her before he died. I don’t usually go for specialty breeds so much — the other two dogs I’ve had were pure mutt — but she needed a home. We’ve been buds ever since.”
The two dogs touch noses and then move on to other areas, exploring each other’s scents in the way that dogs always do.
Marshall pulls on the dog’s leash.
“Ernest, cut that out, boy!”
“It’s alright,” says Price. “They’re just getting to know each other.”
“Yeah, okay. But imagine if people acted like that.”
“Might be kinda’ fun,” Price says jokingly.
Marshall laughs, somewhat embarrassed, but nods in agreement and quickly changes the subject.
“So what’s your dog’s name?
“Stella.”
“Stella?”
“I didn’t name her.” Price laughs. “She came with that name.”
“You ever seen an old movie called ‘The Poseidon Adventure?’”
Price scratches his head.
“Hmmmm. ‘Bout the ship that turns upside down?”
“Yeah that’s it.”
“I think I saw part of it on television a couple of months ago.”
“I just thought it was kinda’ funny you have Stella and I have Ernest,” says Marshall. “Stella Stevens and Ernest Borgnine were in ‘The Poseidon Adventure’ together.’”
“Oh yeah?” Price laughs. “Do they get out alive?”
“I don’t wanna’ give it away. I’ve got it on DVD. Maybe you and Stella can come over some night and watch it with me and Ernest.”
SAUL STOMPS ON THE ACCELERATOR and whips his silver
Jeep quickly across oncoming traffic on Central Avenue and into the parking lot of Lulu’s.
“You’re gonna get us killed,” says Clarice.
“Don’t worry,” says Saul. “I’ve never had a car wreck in my entire life. Not planning on starting now.”
“Hey, there’s a parking space!” says Clarice.
“I see that. ‘Bout the only one left, too.”
“It fills up fast here for brunch. It’s pretty popular with the Plaza-Midwood crowd.”
“You don’t think they’ll mind some uptowners, huh?”
“Nah. Especially not a hot Latin guy and an artsy chick.”
Saul leans back in his seat and gazes at Clarice momentarily.
“What? Why are you staring at me like that?” she asks.
“I was just thinking that you are really something special.”
Clarice peers at Saul quizzically.
“Are we getting serious here?”
“Maybe. If you want to.”
“I think so.”
“I don’t think. I know so. Which is why I have to tell you something.”
Clarice leans back in her seat.
“Is it bad?”
“Well,” Saul begins slowly, “while you were in Montreal I did something I shouldn’t have.”
“What?”
“I went out to Cosmos one night to have a few drinks ‘cause I was bored and I missed you and a few drinks turned in to several and I got a little drunk.”
“So? That’s not earth shattering.”
“It’s what comes next. I met some blond girl who works at the bank and we kinda made out.”
“Kinda?”
“Yeah, Clarice. I’m really sorry. We did. We made out.”
Clarice sighs heavily and begins to play with her fingernails.
“In the bar?”
“Not exactly. We ended up between some bookshelves at the library.”
“You couldn’t have been that drunk if you made it up the street and into the library, Saul,” says Clarice.
“I wasn’t born yesterday.”
“Clarice, I was drunk. Drunk enough to do something stupid and to be tossed out by library security.
I’m lucky I didn’t get arrested.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because I think I’m in love with you and I want to be honest. I did something stupid. I swear I’ll never do it again and I want you to forgive me.”
“The fact that you were having some kind of tongue-sharing party with a blond worker bee in between library shelves doesn’t make me feel very good inside,” says Clarice, her voice rising sharply.
“Despite the comedic visuals I’m getting, seeing you and the thought of you doing that with somebody else … I’m not happy about this. I’m also not hungry anymore. Just take me home. I don’t want to be around you right now.”
~ David Moore
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