Somber Resplendence
Again
When the clock finally struck the magic number, I very nearly knocked Storm over while rushing out of the shop. Leaving a trail of high-pitched curse words behind me, I dashed to my car and tried to turn it on. To my dismay and great annoyance, it refused. After a couple more turns of the key, it obediently roared to life and we purred off farther and farther from the music shop.
The traffic was thick and time was not. I turned into a side street and cut the corner into another. After a few detours, I was back on the main road, which was no longer as busy as it had been ten minutes ago. In about ten more minutes, I was home. I unlocked the door and walked in to an eerie silence.
“Vera?” I called, fearing the worst. There was no reply. “Vera!” I called again, this time with more demand colouring my voice.
A sound, like the clanking of glass, was emitted from my right. I swung open the door to my bedroom to find Vera almost folded up in the corner of the room, as if trying to hide.
“What are you doing in here?” I knew the expression in my voice scared her – I could tell by the way she tried, in vain, to back farther into the wall. I couldn’t help it. I took after my mother in the love of my privacy. I felt as though I was being violated whenever people walked into my room without my permission.
“Sorry,” she almost whispered, as she shrunk towards the floor. There was the distinct rolling of the ‘r’ in her speech still.
“I asked you what you’re doing here,” I demanded, closing in on her.
The confused expression on the girl’s face explained it to me – she hadn’t understood a word I had said since I came in, besides her own name. I imagined that my looming figure and booming voice hardly made it easier for her.
I took a deep breath and tried to see it from Vera’s point of view. Whatever was the reason she was in my room, it was likely to be a good one. Or perhaps it wasn’t. I didn’t know this girl well enough to make an assumption on that.
Sitting down in front of Vera, I took another deep breath and thought of the words I was going to say. When they finally came into my mind, I took great effort to cool my voice down, despite the intruded feeling in the back of my head.
I spoke softly, slowly, taking care to put a breathing space in between each word. “Why are you here?” I gestured around the span of the room.
Vera seemed to think about it for a moment, before starting in a meek voice, her speech thick with the accent, “I… boring. Looking for something to do. You have beautiful bottles.”
The last sentence hardly made sense, but I looked off towards the place her thin shaky finger was pointing to – on the other side of the room, all the bottles I had collected over the years were all standing in neat rows, coordinated by height, size and shape. When I left the house this morning, the bottles had been a mess – hanging around in a bunch with half of them knocked to the ground, as though they had absorbed all of the liquid, which had been in them. I had to admit – it looked a lot better this way.
“Thank you for cleaning them up, Vera,” I stood up and offered her my hand, which she took with fright and suspicion in her widened eyes. Her own hand was cold and hard with bones, even though she was wearing the leather jacket I had bought her. She was still unsteady on her feet – she shook dangerously as she got up.
“But please, don’t go into my room again,” I finished, slow and exaggerated as ever.
Vera seemed to understand, as she nodded and lowered her gaze to the dirty carpet.
She seemed a little afraid of me for the rest of the day. Afraid and guilty. Every time I raised my hand to scratch my head, pick something up or the like, she flinched and turned red.
We had been sitting on the couch together – Vera at one end, I, at the other – and watching some stupid programme on the television, when the phone rang.
“Wonder who that could be,” I mumbled more to myself than to Vera, who probably didn’t understand anyway. Nobody ever called me, except work, when Storm had told the store manager a blown up story of something unfortunate that had happened to something I had touched in the store.
“Hello?” I spoke into the receiver, anticipating the voice about to come from the other end.
“Hi, Ruben, it’s, umm, it’s Jannie,” a husky female voice explained.
“Oh, hey, how’re you doing?” I smiled at the sound of her voice. It usually led to one thing, and even though I knew I wasn’t getting it today, it was still nice to hear the familiarity.
“Umm, I’m doing good. I was just calling to apologise for today…” she trailed off.
“Apologise? Oh, right.” I had completely forgotten about what happened earlier that day. Now, it was all coming back to me, and I was starting to think that this phone call was well planned on her side.
“Yeah, I was unfair to you. You have the right to call people, and see other people after work. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything…” There was an awkward giggle and an anticipating silence on the line.
“You’re right, we’re not. Apology accepted. It’s fine. Just, please – warn me before you go all weird on me again,” I begged into the mouthpiece.
“Yeah, alright,” Jannie voiced in a disappointed tone, not before another awkward giggle. I knew what she wanted, and I wasn’t willing to give it to her. Dating was just not my game any more.
A loud noise escaped the direction of the lounge.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I have to go,” I apologised to the woman on the other end. “You should come visit me tomorrow, if you’re free, okay?”
“Sorry, I’ve got work. How about Saturday? Think we could do something then?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I looked behind me, eager to see what the problem was.
“What could we do?” Jannie’s seductive tone made me swallow a lump in my throat.
“I don’t know, but I seriously have to go. Sorry. I’ll see you Saturday.” I hung up the phone before giving myself the chance to hear Jannie’s last words, which came out of the receiver in a vocal line, much too thin to understand, as it made its way towards home.
I had barely slammed down the handset, before my feet were already running across the wooden floor into the lounge.
“What was that noise?” I asked in a sentence much too rushed, before I even entered the room properly. When I did, however, I could see no sign of Vera.
She had disappeared. Again.
The traffic was thick and time was not. I turned into a side street and cut the corner into another. After a few detours, I was back on the main road, which was no longer as busy as it had been ten minutes ago. In about ten more minutes, I was home. I unlocked the door and walked in to an eerie silence.
“Vera?” I called, fearing the worst. There was no reply. “Vera!” I called again, this time with more demand colouring my voice.
A sound, like the clanking of glass, was emitted from my right. I swung open the door to my bedroom to find Vera almost folded up in the corner of the room, as if trying to hide.
“What are you doing in here?” I knew the expression in my voice scared her – I could tell by the way she tried, in vain, to back farther into the wall. I couldn’t help it. I took after my mother in the love of my privacy. I felt as though I was being violated whenever people walked into my room without my permission.
“Sorry,” she almost whispered, as she shrunk towards the floor. There was the distinct rolling of the ‘r’ in her speech still.
“I asked you what you’re doing here,” I demanded, closing in on her.
The confused expression on the girl’s face explained it to me – she hadn’t understood a word I had said since I came in, besides her own name. I imagined that my looming figure and booming voice hardly made it easier for her.
I took a deep breath and tried to see it from Vera’s point of view. Whatever was the reason she was in my room, it was likely to be a good one. Or perhaps it wasn’t. I didn’t know this girl well enough to make an assumption on that.
Sitting down in front of Vera, I took another deep breath and thought of the words I was going to say. When they finally came into my mind, I took great effort to cool my voice down, despite the intruded feeling in the back of my head.
I spoke softly, slowly, taking care to put a breathing space in between each word. “Why are you here?” I gestured around the span of the room.
Vera seemed to think about it for a moment, before starting in a meek voice, her speech thick with the accent, “I… boring. Looking for something to do. You have beautiful bottles.”
The last sentence hardly made sense, but I looked off towards the place her thin shaky finger was pointing to – on the other side of the room, all the bottles I had collected over the years were all standing in neat rows, coordinated by height, size and shape. When I left the house this morning, the bottles had been a mess – hanging around in a bunch with half of them knocked to the ground, as though they had absorbed all of the liquid, which had been in them. I had to admit – it looked a lot better this way.
“Thank you for cleaning them up, Vera,” I stood up and offered her my hand, which she took with fright and suspicion in her widened eyes. Her own hand was cold and hard with bones, even though she was wearing the leather jacket I had bought her. She was still unsteady on her feet – she shook dangerously as she got up.
“But please, don’t go into my room again,” I finished, slow and exaggerated as ever.
Vera seemed to understand, as she nodded and lowered her gaze to the dirty carpet.
She seemed a little afraid of me for the rest of the day. Afraid and guilty. Every time I raised my hand to scratch my head, pick something up or the like, she flinched and turned red.
We had been sitting on the couch together – Vera at one end, I, at the other – and watching some stupid programme on the television, when the phone rang.
“Wonder who that could be,” I mumbled more to myself than to Vera, who probably didn’t understand anyway. Nobody ever called me, except work, when Storm had told the store manager a blown up story of something unfortunate that had happened to something I had touched in the store.
“Hello?” I spoke into the receiver, anticipating the voice about to come from the other end.
“Hi, Ruben, it’s, umm, it’s Jannie,” a husky female voice explained.
“Oh, hey, how’re you doing?” I smiled at the sound of her voice. It usually led to one thing, and even though I knew I wasn’t getting it today, it was still nice to hear the familiarity.
“Umm, I’m doing good. I was just calling to apologise for today…” she trailed off.
“Apologise? Oh, right.” I had completely forgotten about what happened earlier that day. Now, it was all coming back to me, and I was starting to think that this phone call was well planned on her side.
“Yeah, I was unfair to you. You have the right to call people, and see other people after work. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything…” There was an awkward giggle and an anticipating silence on the line.
“You’re right, we’re not. Apology accepted. It’s fine. Just, please – warn me before you go all weird on me again,” I begged into the mouthpiece.
“Yeah, alright,” Jannie voiced in a disappointed tone, not before another awkward giggle. I knew what she wanted, and I wasn’t willing to give it to her. Dating was just not my game any more.
A loud noise escaped the direction of the lounge.
“Shit, I’m sorry, I have to go,” I apologised to the woman on the other end. “You should come visit me tomorrow, if you’re free, okay?”
“Sorry, I’ve got work. How about Saturday? Think we could do something then?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I looked behind me, eager to see what the problem was.
“What could we do?” Jannie’s seductive tone made me swallow a lump in my throat.
“I don’t know, but I seriously have to go. Sorry. I’ll see you Saturday.” I hung up the phone before giving myself the chance to hear Jannie’s last words, which came out of the receiver in a vocal line, much too thin to understand, as it made its way towards home.
I had barely slammed down the handset, before my feet were already running across the wooden floor into the lounge.
“What was that noise?” I asked in a sentence much too rushed, before I even entered the room properly. When I did, however, I could see no sign of Vera.
She had disappeared. Again.