Darling (2 page)

The bus roared up the street. It stopped in front of the bench and black clouds of exhaust spilled out. The doors creaked open and the woman shuffled on board. Mike waited until she was in the aisle before climbing on and flashing his bus pass.

“That’s expired,” the bus driver said.

“What?” He read the laminated card. The driver was right. It had been expired for three days. “I’ll get a new one tomorrow.”

“Three dollars.”

“C’mon. I used it yesterday and no one said anything.”

“That was yesterday. Today? Three dollars.”

He sighed and dug into his wallet. He only had four ones. He forked over three of them and stomped to a vacant seat while wondering what Renee would say if she could see him. Thinking of her made him think of high school and he laughed.

I just had my lunch money stolen. Twenty years old and my goddamned lunch money was stolen.

Something had to change.

* * *

The rolling hills and green pastures reminded Dennis of Thomas Cole paintings. The trees grew large and healthy and a wild array of flowers painted the fields in vibrant Technicolor. The houses out this far were rare and each was magnificent.

Why had he never driven out this way? Between the view and the warm breeze, he was more relaxed than he had been in months. He thought of Eileen and how she hated to drive and was reminded of why he
hadn’t
been out this way. This was at least a twenty-minute drive from campus and that time would only get worse with weekday traffic.

Stirring his own hatred for traffic, Dennis almost turned around and headed back to Knoxville. He was slowing to look for a driveway when he saw the road.
Emory Highway
shot off to his left and wound its way up a hill. He turned onto it and had to slow to twenty to stay in his lane.

Not much of a highway, he thought. Must turn into four lanes farther south.

The road twisted even more as he climbed the hill. His knuckles went white gripping the wheel. Finally the hills leveled, the road straightened, and he was able to once again enjoy the view.

Then he saw it, rising from the hills like a beast from a forgotten age. It was giant. Sprawling. It jutted ever more into view and Dennis thought of icebergs floating in arctic seas, waiting for passing ships to collide into them and sink to the depths.

The urge to turn around and leave rushed back. Dennis forced himself up the long drive. The area itself was a sharp contrast to the structure, as idyllic as anything he had seen so far. Magnolias stood like sentries around the drive, their blossoms still white. The branches of apple trees hung low from the weight of heavy fruit. A giant Weeping Willow rose high to one side of the building, its green draped to the ground.

He parked his car with several others in a small, makeshift lot and laughed at the awkward white lines painted onto the cul-de-sac. The convertible’s top went up with the press of a button. He shut the engine off but didn’t get out. Instead he sat in his space, his eyes taking in the building.

It was off-yellow. He wasn’t sure what the original color was but assumed it had faded in the sun. It brought to mind jaundiced children. There was a long staircase leading up a hill and into a deep, narrow courtyard lined with statues. He couldn’t make out what they were from his car, but could see potted trees between them.

The courtyard ended in a five-story tower. To each side of the tower a three-story building spread out like an opened book. Dennis did a quick count and, assuming one apartment for each window with one across the hall, guessed that the building must have at least sixty apartments. The sheer size of the place was overwhelming.

“Dennis Logan?”

He looked to the curb to see a fat, balding man in a black T-shirt and gym shorts waddling over to him. He shut the engine off and stood, extending his hand.

“Yeah, that’s me. You must be Rudy.”

Rudy grunted something that sounded like “yeah” and shook Dennis’ hand. “I guess I’ll show you around,” he mumbled and waddled back toward the building.

Dennis wiped his palm on the front of his jeans. Rudy’s hand had been covered in sweat and, now that he was behind the man, he could see giant beads of it glistening on the back of his scalp. Soured musk wafted from him and into Dennis’ face.

“This,” Rudy said, “is the…uh, courtyard, I guess.”

“Definitely interesting.” He wasn’t quite sure what to think of the statues. Now that he was between them he could make out their Greco-Roman design. He couldn’t exactly place them, but thought some might be satyrs. They had the characteristic hindquarters of some hoofed beast, while their torsos were a steroid dealer’s wet dream. Each was locked in the midst of a sensual dance, their bodies twisting and writhing. Some of them played the flute, some ate pieces of fruit, and others admired their own creation by rubbing their chests and stomachs. Each smiled
and small horns curled from their heads like a ram.

He thought the others were nymphs, with their bare breasts and erotic poses, but wasn’t sure. He tried not to stare at them too long. Something about the way their faces were carved suggested a sly malevolence, as though they knew he had stolen a peek of their exposed breasts and plotted retribution.

“A previous owner had those built. I think they’re tacky, but the tenants love them. Whatever.”

Dennis just nodded. They were fucking strange is what they were.

“This is the main building.” Rudy swung the door to the tower open. Dennis stepped around him and into the lobby. It smelled musty, like a closet that had been closed for years. The sunlight bounced from wall to wall and the first impression he had was of a hospital—cold, sterile, and impersonal.

“The tenants call it Eiffel.” The door closed and the lobby changed. With the sunlight gone, the only light came from a single bulb overhead. The effect was oppressive. Long shadows ran from the chairs and directory along dirty brown floors and up walls the color of scorched milk.

What was he doing? There was no way in hell he was living in this creepshow. And Mike, or Eileen? Jesus.

“Pool’s this way.”

Pool? Well, maybe he was being a little hasty…

They walked down a long corridor lined with apartments. “In case you’re wondering, we’re in the West Wing now.” Rudy scratched his hip with a meaty hand. “You’re okay with the two bedroom, right?”

“Yeah. Two bedroom’s fine. Perfect, actually.”

“You and your girlfriend?”

“God, no. We’re not even close to that point yet. Just me and my friend Mike.”

Rudy snorted. “College students, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s Mike’s first year, and my first back after a long layoff.”

“We don’t like loud college parties around here.”

Dennis laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. Mike’s a real quiet guy.”

“And you?”

“I’ve grown out of that phase.”

“Good.” Rudy nodded. “People like their quiet around here.”

“Us too.”

“And their privacy. People here don’t like folks sticking their noses where they don’t belong.”

Ahead of them a man stood on a chair and fiddled with something over his doorway. He reminded Dennis of a scarecrow, his scrawny frame only hinting at humanity. His jeans slid down from his waist, revealing a thin, white ribbon of underwear. A gray T-shirt draped over his shoulders like a sheet. As they moved closer Dennis could see he placed roach traps on his door frame. The man stared at them as they passed.

“Is there a problem with bugs?”

Rudy shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry about Lloyd.

Never seen a roach here. Don’t think anyone has. Probably had this whole place fumigated three times in the past year because of him. Here’s the pool.”

He opened a door to reveal a pool that, while not Olympic-sized, still looked at least eight feet at the deep end. Pool furniture was scattered around on the concrete next to a large grill. Most of the area was in the shade of overgrown trees and bushes. A small pathway angled off from an opening in the fence and Dennis could see the corner of a bench and the edge of a small fountain.

He smiled at the sight of the Jacuzzi. “Nice.”

“I guess. Pool hours are ten to ten, no exceptions. And no college pool parties. People here like their quiet.”

“Yeah.”

Rudy shut the door. He started back toward Eiffel and Dennis trotted behind him. They stopped at the elevator. Rudy’s thick thumb pressed the “Up” button. “Two bedroom’s on three.”

The whirring of the elevator vibrated the doors. The intermission in the tour was awkward. Dennis shuffled back and forth trying to think up a question to ask about the building.

Finally, the elevator
dinged
and the whirring stopped. The doors parted to reveal a tall woman in a green sundress. Red hair cascaded over her shoulders. The sweet smell of strawberries and exotic flowers pushed Rudy’s odor to the side. She smiled and Dennis lost his breath.

“Hi, Karen.”

“Hey, Rudy.”

“This is Dennis. He’s thinking of renting Sam’s old place on three.”

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” She stuck out her hand.

“Hi. Hi. Hello.” He took her hand. “Very nice to meet you.” Her eyes were the same green as her dress and he wondered if that was intentional.

She turned and slender, tan legs bounced her down the hall. “Hope to see you around, Dennis,” she said over a shoulder with a perfect flip of her hair.

“Yeah. You too.”
Hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave.

She paused at the door and smiled back. He waved. Then she was gone and he was left feeling like an idiot.

“C’mon, loverboy.” Rudy stepped into the elevator and pressed another button. Dennis stepped in behind him. The doors creaked shut and the elevator whirred to life.

He was disoriented as the elevator started its climb. He wasn’t sure if it was the subtle hint of perfume still lingering in the tiny box, or the way it shook and rattled as it fought its way up the shaft. He was forced to grip the bar running along the wall.

Rudy laughed. “Don’t worry about the elevator. Hasn’t been an accident on this thing in forty years. Jack, our maintenance guy, looks at it every Friday.”

“Is he the only maintenance for this place?”

“Yep.”

“But it’s so big.”

“Believe it or not, we don’t get a lot of problems here. The wiring’s pretty solid and the plumbing’s good. Everything had to be in tip-top shape when they built this place.”

“People used to really care about apartment buildings, huh?” Dennis steadied himself as the elevator’s rattling slowed.

“This place wasn’t built for apartments. My father converted it in the seventies.” The doors opened and Rudy stepped into the hall. He pulled a large set of keys from the pocket of his gym shorts.

“What was it?” Dennis stepped out after him. The third floor was only slightly better than the first. At least there was a little more sunlight coming in through the windows.

“It was originally built in the twenties as a tuberculosis hospital.” He stopped at apartment 333 and fumbled with his keys.

“A tuberculosis hospital?” Seriously? Could the place get any weirder?

“Yep. Must have been a thousand people die here before they found a cure. Here we go.” He shoved the door open and stepped inside.

Dennis stumbled in behind him. All thoughts of the macabre history of tuberculosis vanished. The apartment was huge. The living room alone could fit the entirety of his current place. Hardwood floors, giant bay windows, a fireplace—it was much more than he had hoped for.

Rudy told him the rent and his mind was made up.

“We’ll take it.”

The fat man laughed. “You don’t want the grand tour?”

Dennis smiled. “This place is perfect.”

“Good. You’re lucky to have it, you know. People here tend to be long-term renters. Nice and quiet out here. People here like their quiet. The last occupants lived here for six years, then just up and left in the middle of the night. No forwarding address or anything. Not gonna have that problem out of you, am I?”

Dennis stared out one of the large windows at the field below. He wondered about the abandoned and overgrown buildings that rested on the other side. “I can’t see why we’d ever want to leave,” he said, squinting to read the graffiti staining the old supermarket’s walls.

Chapter Two

Dennis had written a check for the first and last month’s rent, and while his wallet hurt, he felt great. He usually wasn’t so impulsive, but goddamn was that a great place. Once he split the rent with Mike, it would be far cheaper than the shit hole he rented downtown.

Mike. How would he react? They had been talking about moving in together. When he finally convinced Mike to sign up for classes, they spoke for hours about how things would be once school had started and Mike was out from under his parents’ roof. But all of that had been hypothetical.

He should have consulted Mike before making the decision, but he knew how Mike operated. Give him a choice, a decision to make, and he would always find a way to avoid making it. He had to be backed into a corner, especially with something that would be good for him.

Dennis checked his watch as he drove down Cumberland Avenue. He was tense about the possibility of missing his counseling appointment. He had underestimated how long it would take to get back from Emory Highway. Maybe he had been a little hasty…

He shook his head. The drive time would be a small adjustment. It was a nice drive, especially in the summer. The only thing he regretted was that he didn’t have a chance to stop by his apartment and change. He felt a little old to be showing up for an appointment in jeans and a T-shirt.

He pulled to a stop at a red light. A skinny teenager in a wife-beater and baggy shorts walked by, a backpack slung over one shoulder.
Well, I guess jeans and a T-shirt should be
fine, after all.

He pulled into the Campus Center parking garage at five till two. He had exactly five minutes to make it across the parking lot, cross the street, and head up three flights of stairs. He refused to be late. He felt too good today for that.