Page 48 of Zimyra

“Crap!”

“Yeah, keep doing all that talking and see what happens,” he says. “Boom! There goes another one.”

“Okay. Let me concentrate. You’re trying to distract me.”

I aim for a shot and he successfully blocks it, but I don’t block his shot. It goes right in.

“Yeah! Let’s go, baby!” he says, amped.

And then he makes another one. The machine stops. We’re tied four to four, and the game is over.

“What are the odds that this would end in a tie?” I ask.

“Are we breaking the tie, or does that mean we get two questions a piece?” he asks.

“Yes—two questions each. You’re too competitive for me.”

We leave the game room and meander through the night crowds – not necessarily going anywhere – just talking and walking.

He says, “So, ask me a question.”

“Hmm…okay. What’s therealreason you moved down here?”

“The real reason?” He lets out a low chuckle. “I told you already.”

“I know what yousaid, but I don’t necessarily buy your story. You don’t look like you do maintenance. Your hands are not scratched up and you just don’t give off the scruffy, maintenance man look.”

“Wow.”

“I mean, I’ve worked with multiple maintenance workers and you don’t fit the description. You just don’t.”

“Okay, well, I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

I find a bench and take a seat. He sits beside me, but not too close.

I angle my body toward him and ask, “You’re not going to tell me?”

“I’m here to work, Zimyra. Now, I have a question for you.”

“Okay. What’cha got?”

“Who were you supposed to meet here tonight?”

Smiling, I ask, “How did I know that would be the question? And why are you so concerned?”

“Just answer it.”

“I was supposed to meet Capri, my best friend. Are you happy now?”

“I am.”

“Does Capri make it a habit of canceling at the last minute?”

“No, and she had a good excuse.”

“Which was?”

“She got engaged tonight, so—”

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