In The Spring

Mikey drove us to Belleville with the windows rolled down. It wasn’t particularly warm, but I liked the feel of the wind blowing against my face, stinging my exposed skin, my hair catching in the cool breeze.

“You think it’s an omen?” My best friend sighed, his eyes flickering from the road to the sky and back again. It seemed my contentment would be short lived as thick, dark clouds loomed overhead, threatening us with rain.

“Definitely” I told him, though I didn’t need a warning to know that we were destined for misery ahead. “We should probably turn around now and never come back”

And I was only half joking.

Mikey laughed, but the expression didn’t touch his eyes. He was considering it. “If we had any other option, I’d be right behind you Lilly”

We only had a short while left of drive—the journey from our apartment in Manhattan to Belleville had flown by far too quickly and I wished for the remaining seconds to tick by slowly.

As anticipated the rain started to fall and I stared out the window into the dreary scene, my eyes following the trails the water droplets left as they rolled down the glass. It was a light shower at first, but soon it was spilling rapidly from the sky, pelting against the car. I listened, waiting for the clap of thunder or flash of lightning that would surely accompany the downpour, but it wasn’t the season for thunderstorms.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god” Mikey groaned under his breath as he struggled to see the road ahead. The windshield wipers squeaked noisily against the glass as my friend squinted through the torrent. “Maybe we should stop off soon and wait until this dies down”

I nodded and went back to gazing out the window, watching the blurred shapes of other cars speeding past us, driving in the opposite direction. I envied them. They weren’t heading to the same place we were, maybe a few would end up in New York City. Anywhere but Belleville.

I almost missed the sign welcoming us into the town—distracted by my irrational jealousy at passing cars—but even through the rain it caught my eye. I let out an enormous sigh, as though I’d been holding my breath the entire time. It was a sigh of recognition.

I hadn’t set eyes on the town in almost four years. The summer Mikey and I graduated; we both got jobs and worked our asses off, scraping and saving every penny we could before getting the hell out of Jersey. We found the cheapest apartment we could in Manhattan, it came with limited space, the walls and carpets were grubby, damp festered in every corner and even with a lick of paint and a good clean it never had that warm, homely feel, but it was ours and we loved it.

“I saw a sign for a diner back there” Mikey said, speaking over the hammering of the rain, which was yet to cease. “Hungry?”

“I could eat something” I smiled to myself, pleased with the hold up—if this put off arriving at our destination for a little while longer, I was game.

Mikey pulled up to the curb in front of the diner and we both idled for a moment, before dashing for the door. The rain fell, striking me with unnecessary force and soaking me through instantly. I fell through the door, Mikey close behind, water dripping from our clothes.

Though he was pissed off and drenched himself, he couldn’t help but laugh at the disgruntled look on my face, my arms tightly folded across my chest in an attempt to protect my dignity. The white t-shirt I had worn had done me no favours in the rain.

“Shut up!” I hissed, before flouncing off in the direction of an empty table.

“Here” He snickered, sliding into the booth, biting back hysterics as he handed over his jacket so that I could cover myself up. I snatched it from him, but the corners of my mouth twitched and a giggle burst through my lips. Mikey couldn’t contain his laughter any longer and soon we were both falling about, clutching our sides and earning bewildered stares from the few customers inside.

I grabbed the menu from the middle of the table to distract myself, averting my eyes from my best friend’s face, knowing it would only set me off again. He seemed to have had the same idea as he hid behind his copy, but I could hear him chuckling.

Everything on the menu was what you’d expect to find at some greasy spoon cafe and as I looked around I saw it was just that; complete with formica tables, a hand written notice advertising the ‘blue plate special’ and a tacky, neon sign flashing from outside. There weren’t many customers a few sat at the counter, a few seated in the booths; all tucking into oily food piled high onto cheap looking plates.

“Wonder if their pancakes are any good” Mikey speculated, still mulling over the dog-eared list of food and drink.

“I wouldn’t risk it” I warned motioning my head towards the scruffy, unshaven guy on a nearby table, wolfing down the food that had been put in front of him. It somewhat resembled pancakes and didn’t look the least bit appetizing.

Mikey grimaced. “On second thoughts, I think I’ll just stick with a burger and fries”

A middle-aged, mousy woman with a stained apron came and took our order, the soles of her shoes slapping against the black and white—as I assumed it had once been, now yellowing with age—tiled flooring as she walked away towards the kitchen.

“Let’s just eat and then get out of here” Mikey said once the plain looking waitress was out of earshot. I nodded in agreement and glanced out of the window—the frame thick with grime—to see that the rain was nowhere near as heavy as before.

“Enjoy!” The waitress smiled as she set our plates down in front of us several minutes later. It was a strained smile, one that said she’d been serving greasy meals to greasy customers in this place for far too long. I liked to think that my friend and I were a different type of customer than the regulars the diner attracted. Though at the moment, what with our damp clothes and our wet hair clinging to our heads, I imagined we looked a state.

I stared at the food warily, the all day breakfast was swimming in fat and I felt my stomach heave at the sight. After taking a few cautious bites, I pushed the meal away from me and saw Mikey’s helping had gone pretty much untouched as well. It was safe to say we wouldn’t be coming back here in a hurry. We paid and virtually ran out the door, leaving the stench of grease behind us.

“I need a smoke after that traumatic experience” Mikey shuddered, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his back pocket, taking two out and handing one to me.

“And a shower” I muttered, the cigarette dangling from my lips as I lit up. “To get rid of the dirty diner smell”

Outside the rain had almost letup, now just a light drizzle that I barely noticed after the monsoon that had drenched me earlier. My clothes were still slightly damp and the wet had seeped through the material to my skin, but the cold was bearable.

We leant against the car, blowing smoke up into the air and observing the passersby. The street was fairly quiet, a few people milling around and peering into the shop windows, the occasional vehicle driving through. Small businesses lined the sidewalks either side of the road: a tattoo parlour, a seedy looking bar, a small music store, the dingy diner we’d just ate in and several others. A few of the buildings were unoccupied, the front windows boarded up and the walls covered in graffiti. Similar to downtown Manhattan only dirtier.

“How are you holding up?” Mikey asked and I shrugged. He knew how much I didn’t want to be going back, but my Father hadn’t really given me a choice. He was selling his house in Belleville and wanted me to come and sort through my old things. I had been tempted to tell him to put it all out with the trash, if I’d need the stuff that much I would have taken in with me when I moved out four years ago, but Mikey had pestered and pestered me until I’d given in.

You’ll regret it if you don’t Lilly, he’d told me. Think of all those memories you’ll be throwing away Lilly.

Memories? There wasn’t anything I wanted to remember about being there.

“Fine” I lied, but he peered at me sceptically through his glasses. He knew I was putting on a brave face. “Mikes, I’m fine. Let’s just go”

You know that feeling you get when you go over bumps in the road, or when you ride a roller coaster? That feeling where your stomach drops, or lifts, or does whatever it does? I could feel that as Mikey drove through the back roads, speeding over bumps, the wheels even coming off the ground. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. Mikey’s sound system played with such perfect clarity, the bass pumping so hard I could feel my hair vibrate. Nothing but fast paced songs. You could always rely on Mikey for the perfect soundtrack. Whether it was riding in the car, sitting at home, or doing something you'd never thought you'd do in your entire lifetime, you knew Mikey would have the right songs for it. I concentrated all my energy on the music pounding in my ears and I pretended that I had no idea where he was taking me, or what he was planning on doing when he got there and hell, I pretended that I didn’t even care.

But most of all I pretended that it was spring and that I was sat in a field surrounded by daises.