A Meeting Uptown
Emma and I both eat, but anyone watching us could tell that we weren't really interested in our food. I had to get used to watching her food float up and simply vanish. I can't stand when people watch me eat, and apparently Emma isn't any different.
“If you're going to stare, don't look like you're trying not to stare,” She tells me, laughing a little. I sheepishly glare back at my plate of half-finished plate of french toast. “I'm sorry, I guess if you can't see me you're really not watching me eat, are you?”
“Well, you're looking at a glowing person, remember? I'm just watching your food disappear out of nowhere.” She laughs again.
“I guess that would seem pretty weird. Watch all you want.” We both eat our food for a while, and I'm grinning like a fool as she laughs a little bit here and there. Her fork eventually sets down on the plate.
“Well, what do we do next, TJ? I mean, don't you have something to do today?” I frown. Probation officer. That's what I have to do today, and I'm wondering if I should lie to this girl. We barely know each other except for the odd circumstances that surround our meeting. Do I really want to tell her I was hit for being found passed out on a street corner with some dope almost a year ago? Seems like a stupid thing to worry about when I consider the day, but I never know how people are going to react. I don't want to scare her away. Maybe I just won't tell her everything. “TJ?"
“I have to check in with my probation officer at 11:30 AM. Other than that, I'm set for the rest of the day.” Emma makes a joke tsk-tsk noise.
“So the bad boy act isn't just all an act after all, huh? What did you do?” I hesitate. “Teej, you're glowing. It doesn't mean I expect you to be a saint.” I laugh half-heartedly.
“Last year I almost killed myself on heroin,” I say, no longer holding back. “It probably saved my life, to be honest. An officer found me passed out in the street with a half-gram still on me. I might have died on that street if he didn't.” I feel a hand clasp around mine again and I sigh. “Sorry. It's not something I normally--”
“Don't apologize. Not at all. I'm sorry for prying.” Emma picks up her fork again.
“You know Emma, I'd probably tell you anything at all.”
“Then tell me you're going to meet me again at 2 o'clock. I'm going to bring someone else to meet you. We need to let someone else in on this. Are you okay with that?”
“Yeah.”
“So you don't use anymore, do you?” I shake my head.
“Not a chance. I don't even drink anymore. Coffee and cigarettes are my only two vices at this point.” I hold up my mag and sip from it, smiling.
“Your only two vices?”
“Well, except of course, for taking the occasional invisible woman out to breakfast."
"So what are you going to do when your probation is over?” Emma's coffee mug floats up and tips itself back.
“I'm a different person now. I have too much going for me.”
“What do you do, TJ?”
“I'm a graphic artist. I do book covers.”
“I could see that, I think.” Emma's coffee cup swished itself around and tips back all the way.
"Your turn. I can't spill my guts about my life without some reciprocation.” Emma laughs.
“I'm not sure I'm as interesting as you expect me to be, but I can try. How's adopted work for you? Is that a good start?”
“That's a start if we're trying to outdo each other with tragedy.”
“Not really a tragedy, though. Not like you'd think. My adopted parents have always been good to me. I went to a couple that couldn't have children, so I was almost smothered, you know?” Emma picks her fork back up. “Not a bad childhood at all.”
“So what connects us, Emma?” I place my hand down where I expect hers to be, and I land perfectly on a soft, warm hand on the table. She turns her palm toward mine and grabs it.
“Does it matter?” She asks. “Does this kind of thing happen every day? Do we even need to question it?” I laugh for a second.
“Asking questions kills the magic, is that it?” I look at my cell phone. 10:55 AM. “Shit, I'm going to be late. I've got to go all the way uptown. Where do you want to meet?”
“Would it be too much to ask you to come to my apartment?” I smile. Cyril approaches.
“Are you two going to take your eyes off of each other long enough to finish your meals, or should I clear the table?” I hear Emma laugh as she pulls her hand out from under mine. I watch her plate slide itself to the edge.
“I actually only wanted a coffee, but I can't say no to your breakfasts, Cyril.” The old man looks over to me.
“So sweet, this one, isn't she?” With an awkward movement of his arm, I see what must be him patting her on the back. “You take of this one, young man. She's what we old timers call a 'keeper'.” I can't help but smile. I can't see her, but I almost feel Emma's embarrassment. She's been coming to this diner for a long time. Cyril clears the plates and a couple of bills materialize on the table.
"Emma, can I see your license again?"
"What for?"
"I want to see your face. I only got a glance at it before."
"No way," She says, laughing. "You're going to see my place later. You can look at pictures. That old license is horrible."
"Your place?"
"Yeah. That's why I'm bringing my roommate to meet you."
"Are you going to tell her about--"
"We'll see about that. I would like to tell someone outside what we're experiencing."
"I have to go, Emma. I can't be late. Do you want to walk out with me?" I stand up, and I see the table shake a bit as I feel an arm around mine. It's a sensation I can't really relate--feeling something you can't see.
"Bye, Cyril!" I hear the voice next to me say.
"Goodbye, Emmaline. Don't stay away so long, eh? And it was nice meeting you too, TJ."
"Later, Cyril." Emma and I walk out of the restaurant. "He remembered my name," I say to Emma. She laughs.
"You're attached to me now; he won't forget you." We start walking a bit, arm in arm. I look over at her once in a while and smile, but for the whole first block, we say nothing. I feel like I have to break the silence.
"So 2PM. Then did you want to--" Emma pulls me back. I feel warm breath against my skin. My heart ramps up.
"You can tell, can't you?" She asks in a whisper. "You can tell exactly how close I am to you, even without seeing me." I smile and nod at her. When I reach out a hand to touch her face, she leans into it. I feel her hair trace the outside of my fingers. "You know me, TJ, and you've never even seen my face. What kind of people are we?" I take her head into both my hands, trying to imagine the eyes that must be looking back at my glowing face.
"Beautiful people," I say, kissing her. She wraps her arms around me as one of her hands takes my cap off. I see it pulled aside by an invisible hand. She touches my cheek with the other hand as our lips part.
"In any other circumstance I would apologize for being so spontaneous," she whispers. "But I think that glowing aura of yours is an indication that I don't need to." I feel her hug me again and I return the squeeze. "But enough of this. I'm not going to do you any good if I make you violate your probation." She lets me go except for my hands, and I watch my cap flip itself over and situate itself on top of an invisible head. "2PM, TJ."
"2 PM," I say. "Emma, I can still see my cap on you."
"Really?" She laughs as I watch the cap adjust itself. "Too bad you can't see what I'm wearing, or you could tell me how cool I look. I'll keep this so you'll have no trouble finding me later. Just look for the hovering army cap." The cap leans in, and I feel a peck on my cheek. "See you soon, Teej."
"Later, Emma." Emma lets go of my hands. I stand on the sidewalk watching the cap bob away. She turns around.
"I don't want to go either, but don't worry. We've confirmed each other's existences. If Cyril can see us both plain as day, we both MUST be real." I grin and nod my head. The cap turns the other way and begins bobbing down the street again. What a day this has been.
It's ten after 11AM now, and I have to jog up 30 blocks to make it to my appointment.
* * *
"Mr. Mallory, Officer Barnes is out sick today. I'm Officer Noble, I'm going to administer your urine test, and then you can give him a call on the office phone, okay?" Noble. Perfect name for a policeman. I never had any luck with them until one saved my god damn life.
"Sure thing," I say. "Urine test first?" He nods and hands me the sterile plastic container. I walk into the bathroom as he follows. I do my business as usual. "You know Sergeant Pitcher?" Another nod.
"Sure do. Why?" I shake my head.
"Just wondering how he is. Saved my life, you know." I close up the plastic jar and put it in his gloved hand. "I always ask Officer Barnes about him, so I figured I'd keep up the tradition." He looks me square in the eyes.
"Not many people get a second chance like you've got, kid. I see you're taking it to heart. You're gonna keep it clean after these are done, right?" He holds up the jar.
"Damn right," I say, smiling a little. I wash my hands and follow him back out into the office. He points to a door. Here, you can use my office. He hands me a card with Lamar Barnes' home number on it. He shuts the door behind me as I take a seat and dial.
"Barnes," says the voice on the other end.
"It's TJ Mallory."
"T. Jackson! You keeping out of trouble?"
"Yes sir."
"I am vomiting like a motherfucker, Mr. Mallory, but I didn't want to miss a chat with you."
"Thanks, Officer Barnes."
"I'm serious, T. You're a smart kid. You're talented. You've never been anything but straight with me. It's almost been a whole year for you now, and you're keeping a job, you're never been late, and you're keeping yourself clean. In two more months you're going to call me Lamar, and between you and me, when that day comes, Sergeant Pitcher and I are going to take you out for a beer." I laugh. "Serious, T. When I became a PO, a kid like you is all I ever wanted. Someone that wants to reform and take his life back. I saw three older brothers go down that route, man." He's different on the phone. He always had a kind of tough big brother attitude, but he never talked this informally in the office.
"I think that bug is getting to you, Officer Barnes." He laughs. "really, though--thank you. When people my age think about police officers, we don't picture people like you and Pitcher. All that's different now."
"So what are you up to this week?"
"Got a big mural I have to paint, and--man, I met a girl."
"A girl? Where?"
"At the bus stop."
"Nobody meets girls at the Bus Stop anymore, T." He laughs, but it quickly quiets. "Does she use?"
"No. No way. She's a good girl."
"That's my boy. Is she cute?" I think for a second about what would happen if I told him the details.
"She's beautiful," I say, answering in the most honest way I can. "She's cool as hell."
"That's good," he replies. "You keep with good people, you're gonna be fine." He laughs again, weak this time. "T. Jackson...You know, my son's almost a teenager. If he gets into trouble, I might have to call on you to do a little public service." I laugh. "You ought to think about it, man. Once you finish this year out, you could tell your story and help a lot of people."
"You help a lot of people, Officer Barnes. I'm just one of the scumbags that got lucky enough to wake up."
"Nah, Mr. Mallory--you're one of the people that makes my job worth walking in the door for. You don't think I'm taking calls from everyone today, do you?" I don't say anything. "I don't want to make you misty or anything." We both laugh again. "Alright, T. I'm about to head back to the bathroom again, so get Noble back on the phone, would you?"
"Sure thing. Thanks, Officer Barnes."
"Hurry up, T. I'm retching here." I put the handset down and open the door to the office. Noble looks up from his desk.
"All set?"
"Yeah, he just wants to say something to you real quick." Noble walks back into his office and picks up the phone in time to hear an awful noise.
"Uh, Lamar? You okay?" I hear Barnes cursing on the other side of the line.
"I'm sorry, man. Yes, he's all set. Yeah, I'll tell him." Noble laughs as he hangs up the phone. "He said all that sweet talk made him sick." I smile. "Just sign out at the front desk and we'll see you next month, Mr. Mallory. Have a good one."
"You too, Officer Noble. Tell the Sergeant I said hello." He nods as I walk out of the office.
Family isn't my strong suit. My own wasn't ever any good for me. I could complain and give a long explanation of why I blame my mistakes on them, but I don't. I don't complain, and I don't blame them. What's done is done, and I'm an adult now. It's just--when you don't have real family, you don't just go without. You find family in other places. It happens to all of us. For a while, my family just happened to be a bunch of dopers.
I won't pretend to remember all of it, but we were always shooting up and telling these sob stories. "I was physically abused," I'd say. "My boyfriend cheated on me," a girl said. "My mother used," another explained. All of us continuing the cycle, each dropping the plunger just a little bit more to forget it.
That family was killing me. I let myself buy into numbing my life, and it nearly drifted away as a result. For the last year, Officer Barnes and my work had been my family. Now, as I wrap up my probation, a woman--this invisible girl that entered my life by unexplained circumstances--might actually factor into that family as well.