Page 33 of Jealous of the Clouds
Chapter 12
“You can’t. I don’t want you to.” I told Camille, who was standing near the door, car keys in hand, waiting to run me over to my apartment to pick up some things. I was ashamed that I’d allowed her to get this far in her efforts to help me out, but I still teetered on logic, on things in my life being normal, even mundane.
But it came to me like a bullet to my gut, that my life had been turned upside down. It was now this topsy-turvy nightmare that I sometimes had to force myself to believe—force myself—to take seriously.
“No, Camille, I can’t put you in that danger. I don’t want to take that risk. You don’t deserve it.”
She scoffed. “And you do? Come on, Ted, we can be quick. What are the odds he’ll even be around?”
“What are the odds he won’t? I can’t take a chance. I’ll go alone. I’ll be fine. There are a bunch of other apartments in my building and now, after COVID, lots of people still work at home.”
Camille sat down in a chair near the window and looked out at the sunny afternoon that belied our mission. She sighed. “I don’t agree with this, but you’re a grown-ass man and I can’t stop you. Is there anyone else at all who might be able to come along with you? Maybe someone with a penis instead of a vagina? God forbid I say something sexist, but I want a brute of a bodyguard with you.” She shook her head. I could sense her fear, and it wasn’t helping me to be any less anxious.
“Oh, don’t make this sexist.” But she wasn’t making this sexist—Iwas. Because the person I was thinking of tapping toaid in my escape plan was Karl. He, more than anyone else, would understand my fear—and would find it the most rational response in the world. And he, more than anyone else, had something to gain if Josh did show up. But I knew that Karl’s very presence would be a deterrent if Josh dared to come to my apartment. And it stood to reason that one person Josh might also want to see dead was the one person he truly couldn’t see that happen to—at his hand or even someone else’s. With all of his implications of Josh, Karl being harmed or even killed would make Josh look even more suspicious. “I’m trying not to make this about men versus women. I’m trying to protect my friend.” I explained who I wanted to call, and why. “See, it’s not so much about bringing a man along with me over a woman. It’s about making some sort of sense in this whole mess.”
She didn’t say anything for the longest time. At last, she stood, rubbed her hands on her jeans, and said, “Okay. But I want you to text me when you get there and when you leave. And promise me if Karl can’t come along, you’ll wait until he can. Please, Ted. I’m worried.” This was a side of Camille I didn’t see often.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Fuck you.”
And she’s back.
Camille brushed past me and went back into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to call Karl. I prayed he’d pick up.
*
Karl and I stood outside my red-brick apartment building on Fargo Avenue. The day had turned chillier, the temperature plummeting down to the low forties due to the clouds that hadrolled in from the east. They’d moved across the frigid waters and picked up some of their chill. I could smell it as well as feel it. I wondered if we might not see the first flakes of snow later today.
I shivered as I peered up at my balcony and my living room windows. I was ready to seehimlooking down on me. He’d be smiling, but there’d be no welcome in the smile, only evil anticipation. He’d reach down and hold up a wriggling, and terrified, Mrs. Davis.
But the windows stared back, empty dark eye sockets. There was no movement. I couldn’t even see Mrs. Davis in her usual spot on the back of the couch in front of the living room windows. From there she could observe the Rogers Park neighborhood’s goings-on, silently judging. She spent a good part of her day in this very spot and my couch has the fur and claw marks to prove it.
In my current state, her absence alarmed me. My mind immediately went toFatal Attractionand the horrible scene with the white rabbit. I shoved those thoughts away.
“You okay?” Karl startled me. I’d nearly forgotten he was with me. But yeah, he’d insisted on picking me up when I’d called him. I was planning on the L, or at maybe an Uber or cab. But no, he’d not only driven me over in his red Mazda CX-3, he’d found prime parking directly in front of the building. The hatch of his car was empty, waiting to be filled.
“Sure.” I looked into his blue eyes and saw a liar looking back at me.Good lord, don’t we already have enough falsehoods in our lives?“No. I mean, no. I’m not okay.” I took a step closer, smelling the soap on him, something with a faint trace of Bergamot. His mop of curly blond hair blew away from his face in the chill wind. “I’m terrified.”
“Of course you are.” He put his arm around me. The comfort and warmth from that simple gesture were indescribable. “Let’sget this over with, shall we? As I told you on the phone, you’re doing the right thing.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched.
We headed inside. Upstairs, once the door opened, Mrs. Davis came rushing out from the bedroom, meowing loudly and, I suppose, scolding. I kneeled down to pet her and scratch her behind the ears. She loved it until she didn’t, demonstrating she was finished by a quick hiss and an arching of her back. “Okay, okay,” I said, laughing for the first time in what felt like forever. I lifted my hand high, away from her swinging paws. She would be even less pleased when I brought out her carrier.
“Why don’t you have a seat?” I gestured toward the couch. “I’d love for you to help, but I’ll spend more time telling you where everything is than actually just doing what I need to do on my own.”
“Sounds like a good work assignment. I can help with the heavy lifting.” Karl plopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. Mrs. Davis hopped up on the couch beside him to make an inspection.
I made quick work of gathering what I needed—Mrs. Davis’s litter box, food bowls, and the litter and kibble to go in them; toiletries from the bathroom; and last, an armful of clothes on hangers from the bedroom closet. I grabbed underwear and socks from my dresser. I stuffed everything into black garbage bags. In the end, I had four of them.
After I struggled to get Mrs. Davis into her carrier, trying to blot out her cries and steering clear of her claws, I stood up. “There, that didn’t take too long, did it?”
“You’re amazing. I could have never done that in such record time, man.” He smiled.
I glanced around my home. Myhome. It wasn’t fair that I was forced out of my sanctuary, my place of refuge. Would it ever be the same again? Would I ever return to live here in the future,experiencing the bliss of boredom and peace I’d so taken for granted?
