When You Don't See Me. Timothy James Beck. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Timothy James Beck
Издательство: Ingram
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Современная зарубежная литература
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780758253606
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things in common. Mostly our exasperated families. Roberto’s mother had hoped that art school would put his skills with spray paint and walls to good use. Even though he pretended he had no interest in school and was just biding time until graduation, Roberto was extremely talented. Our teachers often compared him to Jean Michel Basquiat. Without the heroin habit.

      “I’m sorry we’re stuck in the dining room,” I said. “The girls claimed the bedroom. I get the idea they think the apartment sucks overall.”

      “This is a room? I thought it was a broom closet,” Roberto said. “The futon takes up half the room.”

      I opened a small door and said, “No. This is the broom closet.”

      He laughed and said, “I’m just teasin’, Nickito!”

      “Stop calling me that.”

      “Who gives a shit what anyone thinks? What matters is, we have our own place, yo!” He high-fived me, then saw Kendra standing in our doorway. “It’s got a good view, too.”

      “I just wanted to give you my share of the deposit, Nick.” She took a tentative step into the room and handed me a check. “You know, while I’ve got it? Before I accidentally spend it on something silly, like food.”

      “Or the power bill,” I said.

      She sighed and asked, “How much was it to get the lights turned on?”

      “They’re billing us. It won’t come for another month.”

      “Not me,” Roberto said. “I could pop at any time.”

      I couldn’t tell if Kendra was grossed out or trying to figure out what Roberto meant. I introduced them. When she left and I heard the bedroom door close, I turned to Roberto and said, “Roommates are off-limits.”

      “We got two honeys in our house and you’re telling me I can’t—”

      He was cut off when Morgan knocked loudly on our door frame and said, “Hey, you.”

      “Nick,” I reminded her, then sneezed twice. “Sorry. I don’t know if it’s a cold or—”

      “Listen, just because we’re sharing this glorified shoe box doesn’t mean I want to hear your life story, okay? Kendra told me she gave you her share of the rent and deposit. I don’t want you thinking I’m some freeloader, so here.” She slapped a check on top of my duffel bag. Before she left, she said, “You should get a door or hang up a sheet in this doorway. I don’t want to walk by and accidentally see your man-bits or anything.”

      I stood and breathed through my mouth. Roberto was silent next to me. I wasn’t sure what he was contemplating. Probably that one of the “honeys” wasn’t such a catch after all. The miracle would be if he tried to catch her and didn’t get his ass kicked. As tough as Roberto might be, I’d put my money on Morgan. If I had money.

      While I put both girls’ checks in my wallet, I sneezed three more times and remembered my cup of tea. It was stone cold, but I drank it in the kitchen while Roberto made a couple more phone calls. Then I went back into our room, trying to summon up enthusiasm for unpacking.

      “Let’s get out of here,” Roberto said abruptly, picking up my hoodie and tossing it to me. I slipped into it, understanding his need to leave. Four people sharing the rent was an appealing idea. Four people inhabiting the same small space at the same time was less so. Plus Morgan’s movers were due any minute. Something told me that would entail a lot of drama.

      I considered my scratchy throat and said, “Let me get a heavier jacket.”

      It had finally stopped raining, but the air was still cold and damp. While we walked, Roberto entertained me with a perfect imitation of Morgan. When I realized where we were heading, I wiped my nose with alternating sleeves of my jacket and asked, “What’s up? Where are we going?”

      “Listen to you, all suspicious. It stopped raining, so I thought we’d get out and—”

      “No,” I interrupted. “I meant, why are we going to the subway?”

      Roberto looked like he was about to deny my accusation, but stopped when he saw me staring at the subway entrance at the end of the block. We could see people descending and ascending the stairs beneath the sign for the 6 train. He glared at me and said, “Suck it up. You can’t ride the bus forever, and taxis are expensive. We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

      “Manipulative asswipe. You had to bring trust into this, didn’t you?”

      “You know I think of you like a brother. For you to doubt me, to think I’d willingly put you in harm’s way, is like a slap in the face. A knife in my heart. A snake’s fangs in my—”

      “Enough! Fine. I’ll do it.”

      We fought our way into the subway against people elbowing their way out. I slumped in a seat still warm from the behind of its previous occupant. I did everything I could to distract myself, so my mind wouldn’t think about what could be happening above while we were trapped below. I tried counting the dingy white tiles of the station wall outside, but the train lurched forward and thwarted my plan. I counted sneakers. There were twenty-four; twelve pairs. Then I worried all that counting was a sign I had OCD, so I stared at Roberto and tried to send him a telepathic message: I hate you for making me do this. He stood in front of me, obliviously holding on to the bar overhead while staring at some girl’s ass. I started counting asses.

      When we exited at Sixty-eighth Street, I had to cover my ears because of the noise. Across the street from the subway entrance, behind a tall blue construction fence, a building was being torn down. As part of a brick wall crashed down, I glared at Roberto, who stared straight ahead and pretended nothing was happening. I followed him, wanting to get away from the noise and destruction. Since he seemed to have a plan and I had nowhere to be, I stayed silent until he stopped at the zoo and reached into his pocket to pay.

      “You don’t have to do that,” I croaked.

      Roberto looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Forget it, man.”

      We walked in silence, avoiding the sea lions in the Central Garden. I wasn’t sure if the sparse crowd was because it was nearly closing time or because of the weather. I hadn’t spent much time there. Or in any zoo, for that matter. It was small. Intimate. It might have been a nice date if I wasn’t walking toward death’s door with Roberto.

      “Here we are,” Roberto announced.

      I looked around. “The North Pole?”

      Roberto ignored me to stare at a polar bear, who took little notice of our arrival. The bear undoubtedly loved winter in New York. I wondered what he did during the summer. Probably spent most of it swimming. Maybe he had a time-share in Greenland.

      “What up, iceberg?” Roberto greeted the bear. “What’s the fizz, fuzzy?”

      “You and the bear are close?” I asked.

      “He’s not bad for a white dude. I come here a lot when I need to think. Or be alone, you know?”

      “You usually have the zoo to yourself?”

      “You usually such a smartass?”

      “Sorry. It’s the cold medication talking.”

      “No, I don’t usually have the place to myself. But even when it’s crowded, I can tune it all out. Make everybody invisible, like they don’t exist.”

      “Do you always come to see the bear?”

      “Yeah. No. I mean, yeah, I always come to see him, but not always just him. I like to spend time with the sea lions, too. But that’s about it. Sometimes I check out other stuff, but mostly just those two, you know? There’s other bears, too. Somewhere.”

      “Interesting.” I rubbed my forehead.

      “You feel that bad?”

      I thought about