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Showing posts with label Tillamook. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tillamook. Show all posts

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

eight- Lovers Displaced


“Good job Hurt!” An important looking man in a very expensive suit shakes Henry’s hand heartily. He’s the vice president of Modern Real, the burgeoning real estate development company that Henry works for as Director of Operations for their Portland building, Modern Pearl. Here on one of the top floors of Modern Tower, the company’s headquarters located in the bright center of New York City, Henry wipes his head dry of sweat, having just finished a long, lively, dance of seduction in front of a table of executives tasked with deciding his Modern future.
“Have a seat in the next room. We just need to go over a few things. We’ll call you in as soon as we’re ready.” The distinguished looking man gently escorts Henry out of the board room, smiling as he shuts the double-doors. There is a gathering of lounge chairs near the windows. Henry loosens his tie and sits back on the one that looks softest. From this throne he looks out into the world— the center of the world. His eyes reflect the lights, all of the lights: the buildings, the neon, the cars, and the people. But all he sees is his own reflection in the glass of the spotless window. His face, tired but still handsome, looking back at him with a glint of pride. He takes a deep breath, and after a few touches with his thumb, brings his phone to his ear.

“Hi Audrey, I’m waiting for them to make their decision now…” He laughs. “Well did you?” Another laugh. “I told you so…” Silence. “Are you smoking? Don’t lie to me…” He sighs. “I thought we talked about this. I don’t want you smoking anymore.” He grips the armrest with his free hand. “I don’t care if it’s just one. Just stop.” He hears movement in the next room and fixes his tie with his free hand. “Sorry Aud’, I didn’t hear what you just said. Did you get my e-mail with the list?” He smiles condescendingly. “I don’t like what you have in your kitchen. Throw all the food out, and buy what’s on the list. Trust me, you’ll feel a difference within a week! Hold on hun…”
The double doors open wide, the vice president walks through and over to Henry, who stands from the chair holding the phone behind his back.
“Congratulations Hurt! We’re giving you the Pearl. Follow me back inside and we’ll make it official.” The man walks back through the doors, leaving Henry alone to end his call.
“Yeah, Audrey? I got it! I gotta run but I’ll call you tomorrow morning from JFK. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight Henry! Congratulations! I’m so proud of you…” Audrey hears her phone beep in her ears. The call was ended after she said Henry. She sighs then smiles at the young man sitting next to her.
“I’m sorry, that was my boyfriend. He just got promoted!” She drops her cigarette on the ground next to her bare feet.
“That’s ok. Do you want another?” The young man holds out an open pack. The two are sitting on the steps outside Audrey’s apartment. It’s the same young man from the East Coast back visiting his girlfriend, Audrey’s upstairs neighbor.
“I can’t, my boyfriend... Thanks though.”
“I understand.” He nods understandingly, thinking about his girlfriend upstairs and if it’s been enough time since their fight for him to go back to the apartment and apologize. Across the parking lot, another resident is by the bins throwing away glass bottles, one by one. The clanging is loud and sharp.
“Well, I think I’m gonna go back up. I got a lot of begging and groveling to do and it’s getting late. Nice meeting you, Audrey.”
“Good luck! Just tell her she’s beautiful, it always works.” She gives him a thumbs-up as he walks into the building and disappears up the stairs. She hears a door open and close and looks up at the window above her bedroom. A light goes on, a lamp light, making yellow-orange streaks out of the dark that filled the room for the past half-hour. She sees shadows; two blobs slow dancing around the white ceiling. They merge together into one fluid blob, flickering like a flame. The light goes off and Audrey is alone. She picks her phone up from the ground beside her, and dials her friend.

“Hey Nick! What are you doing? I’m watching the Big Bear crawl across the sky.” She switches ears. “That sounds nice. You haven’t painted since Maria… What is it of?” She laughs. “Oh, c’mon! Tell me!” She growls. “Fine. I’ll wait till it’s finished. Hey Nick?” She pauses. “I’m sorry nothing happened between you and Chloe. If she doesn’t know how amazing you are then she doesn’t deserve to know! Okay Nick?”

“Okay Audrey. Besides, even if she was interested in me, it would have been impossible with Sophie around all the time. I know she wants us to hook up but she’s involuntarily cock-blocking me. But I guess it doesn’t matter. Nothing happened and nothing will.” He listens. “Thanks and don’t worry, I’ve already moved on.” He laughs. “You too. See you tomorrow?” He sighs. “It’s alright. I can handle the shop alone tomorrow. Have fun with Henry. See you Thursday. Sleep tight.”

Nick is sitting on the edge of his bed. He looks at his phone, presses the red button and continues to stare. His thumb scrolls to a name and hovers above it, wanting to press it. He pulls away and throws the phone across the bed. With a groan, he lays back keeping his eyes on the canvas in the corner of the room. He told Audrey he had been painting. The brush in his hand is fresh out of its packaging. He can’t understand why he lied, why he lied last week about his attraction to Chloe, and why he felt he needed to keep lying about it. He groans and closes his eyes.
Neon lines streak across the black lids; a map of plane routes, arcing trajectories delivering one person to another; a map of phone calls linking one lover to another in a country where long distance isn’t so long a distance.
He opens his eyes to a clean white ceiling. In his head is a story. His hand, the brush, reaches up towards the giant canvas. He doesn’t reach, but begins to paint anyway. The brush swirls and sweeps, leaving permanent stains in the invisible air.
A path, a trail of dirt, surrounded by tall trees. Flowers of different shapes and colors lining the sides of the trail like light-strips lining the aisles of movie theatres; they guide the way. A woman walking away, down the path, frozen mid-step. She’s dressed for hiking, the way someone who doesn’t normally go hiking would dress for hiking. A man stands beside her, a hand around her elbow. His face looks confident, yet pleading. He is the reason they’re both frozen in this moment. Nick closes his eyes again, but only for a few seconds.
When he looks at the ceiling again, his creation has come to life. The man has convinced the woman to turn around and she follows him off the trail into a clearing canopied by the tall trees. They are no longer bound by a trail, guiding them one-way and keeping them from crossing the lines that confine. They are alone. No one sees what they do next. But they remember. A kiss concealed in the Tillamook Trail.
Nick grabs his phone and sits up. The ceiling fades back to a clean white. It doesn’t take long to scroll through the phonebook. He presses the green button.

“Chloe Clarimonde.” Her phone is turned off.
Chloe lies under her blanket naked, reading what’s left of a chapter before she closes the book for the day. It’s a novella about a girl who loves a man who doesn’t love her… as much. She finishes the chapter, catches a tear running down her cheek, and then turns out the light. Her eyes close and in her head a thought, one that returns every night before she goes to bed: why am I so afraid of love?

All across America, lights go out and people fall asleep. From New York to Portland, ocean to ocean, a vast darkness ever growing. The neon lines stretching across the lovelorn land flicker off one by one, I love you by I love you.

Chloe drifts into sleep and instead of a dream, she wakes up inside a memory. The beach at midnight; a scene of blue and white. Her sister asleep in bed; the allergy medicines ensured she would stay asleep. Did he get the note slipped under the heavy hotel door? Will he kiss me like he did in the clearing? Her answers come on time, holding in his right hand the folded note he found by his door. She runs to his arms.
Here on the edge of this lovelorn land, this country of young lovers displaced. Here where the end of the vast darkness meets the beginning of another vast darkness, they make love for the first time. The voices of the waves echoing their secret across the wide reach of the Pacific.



Photo: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dactylx/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Friday, April 16, 2010

seven- On the Willamette


“I’m driving up to Seattle tomorrow! I’m getting out of work early so I can meet Henry at Sea-Tac when his flight lands at around 8 p.m. So…”

“No.” Nick shakes his head slowly. Through his dark Balorama sunglasses, he watches her slip away from him. The girl he loves, sitting next to him on a bench on the waterfront, her almond eyes glowing, her perfect skin shining in the Northwestern sun, her hair like brown waves sweeping across her face angelic. He stares longingly at her pouting lips of strawberry red.

“Oh c’mon Nick! I still haven’t fixed the flat tire on Sally!” She renamed her beat-up ’67 Mustang “Sally” so that people would stop asking why she named it “Ladybug”. At one point, the car used to be a fading red with black and brown rust spots all around. The name came before the new paint, a very royal blue.

“I need my truck this weekend. I’m going to the coast. Wait, why are you picking him up from the airport?”

“He’s in San Diego right now for some management conference. The company he works for flew him out last minute. He thinks they’re going to promote him to general manager! Anyway, they bought him a ticket to Sea-Tac because it was cheaper and it made me sad thinking about him alone on the train back to Portland.”

Nick zips up his track jacket, runs a hand through his thick black hair, and crosses his arms almost defensively. The sun starts to set, painting the sky amber; a breathtaking sight from their seat overlooking the Willamette River. If this were his last day, Nick wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. He gazes across the river, remembering all the sunsets he witnessed from that very bench. He thinks of his childhood, his mom, and walking with her down the waterfront to see the cherry blossoms filling the trees pink and white. It is a memory as beautiful as it is spiritual and the most vivid of its kind. Indeed if this were his last day, Nick would be content to surrender his life here as the sun sets over the Willamette with visions surrounding of perfect cherry blossoms. But instead of his life, it’s something more important that he has to surrender here.

“Audrey… I’ll come over tomorrow morning with a new tire.”

“Nick! You’re amazing!” Audrey jumps to her feet, clapping her hands in applause of Nick’s gesture. Her heart abounds with excitement for her Henry, who is only a day away. The smile on her face, long stored away like a winter coat she outgrew in high school, finally fits again, naturally. And her name, her first name, the name her mother left her, she lay at the feet of her father the last time they spoke. It was years past, when she was still in college and she experienced for the first time the painful consequence of love given selflessly and without conditions. There are certain incontestable duties required of a father. He failed her when she needed him most, taking the side of men over his little girl… But that’s another story. Now, her name suits her again; a name that implies happiness, it resonates charm and graceful beauty. Dylan is a name written on the label of a box recently brought up to the attic. Audrey has come out of hiding.

Sitting back down, her thoughts rewind to Nick’s previous answer. Her smile closes and she bites her bottom lip. Her eyes squint prepared to inquire.

“You’re going to the coast? What’s her name?”

“Why does it have to be a girl? I could be going with Tim or Jake or Tim and Jake!” Nick crosses his arms tighter, clearly in defense.

“Tim and Jake are your only friends besides me. Tim is working overtime this weekend so he can buy a new bike and Jake is driving down to Humboldt State for a reunion thing. So… what’s her name?” Audrey grins, having caught Nick in a lie.

“Alright, it’s a girl. Well, it’s two girls.” Nick sees Audrey’s eyes and mouth open wide like big O’s, her eyebrows rise like tents. He laughs.
“Hey, take it easy! Sophie Clarimonde. She’s a good friend of mine. We went to Portland State together. She got a job on the East Coast after graduation, but we stay in touch. Anyway, she’s in town for two weeks.”

“And you guys are going to the coast? Sounds pretty romantic…” Audrey smiles clownishly, though a part of her feels strange, almost jealous. She shakes her head at the thought and continues to interrogate Nick.
“Is she pretty? Did you guys go out in college? You did didn’t you? Has she come back to rekindle the flame?”

“Yes, very pretty. No. No. No. We were on line at Pine State Biscuits yesterday and we started talking about what she should do before going back east. She mentioned hiking in Tillamook, so I suggested that we leave Saturday morning, stop in Tillamook for some cheese and light hiking, then head to Seaside and hike to the Head. She thought it was a great idea.”

“I see. But who’s the other girl?” Audrey has great memory.

“It’s her sister. She lives here in Portland and whenever Sophie flies in she tries to hook us up. I only like her as a friend. She’s great, but we’re not each other’s types.” Nick blushes, knowing that he just lied. Sophie’s sister is gorgeous, successful, and confident. Though he’d give all of himself to be with Audrey, he’d give a couple of limbs to be with Sophie’s sister. Most straight men would give a couple of limbs to be with Sophie’s sister. She can make the most courteous gentlemen stay seated when she enters a room.

“Are you satisfied? Any more questions?” Nick sneers teasingly.

“I’m quite satisfied.” They both chuckle.

“Actually, I do have another question! Your friend Sophie, her name sounds so familiar. Is she famous?” Again, Audrey has great memory, though it’s not always accurate.

“Sophie? Yeah. She works for a fashion magazine in New York, flies all over the place and tells people how to dress. She also has a fashion blog with thousands of followers. I think she’s been on T.V. a few times too. But it’s not Sophie you’re thinking of. You’re thinking of her sister.”

“Wait, don’t tell me!” Audrey closes her eyes and focuses on the name, Clarimonde. She realizes that she hears it everyday, every morning on the television.

“She’s the weathergirl!” Audrey digs deeper. “On channel 8!” She can see her now, standing in front of America, pointing out the giant clouds and suns attacking major cities. She can see the name, a blur, right before Clarimonde, stretched across the bottom of the screen. In her mind she takes a napkin to the screen where the name is hidden behind the blurry cloud. Suddenly it’s all clear.

“Chloe! Chloe Clarimonde! Damn, Nick! How can you not like her? I’d sleep with her and I’m only half joking!” Audrey feels it again, that strange feeling, but like before it goes away as quickly as it came.

“Well, I will on Saturday! Well, I’ll sleep next to her… in the room next to her’s!” Nick laughs. He notices Audrey doesn’t.

“I love you Audrey…” Nick releases the words, holding back the passion and the feeling that inspired them. He’s afraid of losing her completely to Henry, and doesn't want to push her with his confession.

“Aw, I love you too Nick! And I love Henry, and this view! I’m so loving life right now! Oh god Nick! I’m becoming one of those high-on-life hippies hanging around the Square. Are you gonna stop being friends with me?” Audrey gives Nick a pleading look. He looks past her, down the waterfront, at the cherry trees glowing in the new night, the white blossoms waving like thousands of white flags.

“No Audrey, I will always be your friend.”


Photo: Cherry blossoms in Tom McCall Waterfront Park, Portland, Oregon. Attributed to flickr useratul666

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