Role Play Page 14

  I was lost.

  Nobody cared. Nobody came to help me. I don’t know how long I sat there until I realized that if I didn’t pick up my own butt and get on my feet, everything I had worked for would be ruined. I couldn’t let myself slide back into living in Peekskill or Tarrytown or wherever my mom had landed this month. I had to fight, even when there was no fight left in me.

  Standing back up from that bench, I felt like was in a deep, deep hole. And I would have to claw my way out one step at a time.

  The first step was the worst. But after that, I went into auto-pilot, turning off my mind as I smiled at prospective roommates, ignored the rejection and refused to get my hopes up. It was easier that way, to go numb. Numb was better than feeling so awful.

  After work on Friday, my first appointment took me on the 7 train only one stop into Queens to Long Island City, where I got a bus to go over the Pulaski Bridge into Greenpoint. It was one of the closest places I had seen advertised, but the big disadvantage was that it was nowhere near a subway line into the city. Waiting for the bus among a crowd of stoic commuters was no fun, and I could tell it would be freezing in the winter with wind blowing off the river. But as a bonus the city skyline was practically within arm’s reach.

  The bus let me off on McGuinness Blvd, a very busy 6-lane artery that carried truck traffic along the industrial corridor west of the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. Greenpoint looked a lot like my Astoria neighborhood with two-family houses mixed in with tenement buildings and small warehouses. There were lots of trees, which I liked. Even though I was tired, I perked up on the two block walk from the bus stop.

  The address was for a big blocky building, three stories high. The brick wall on the ground floor had a large bay door. A mural covered it like graffiti writ large. I had to check to make sure it was the right place. It looked like a warehouse.

  Buzzing the 2nd floor, a scratchy voice told me to come up.

  The black-painted stairs reminded me unpleasantly of the Chamber, but here light poured down from the ancient skylight in the ceiling. Several bikes were chained to the pipes running up the walls, and the garbage cans smelled terrible.

  At the top of the first flight of stairs was a table piled with envelopes, so many they were spilling off. A guy opened the door and saw me looking down at them.

  “We need to toss all that. Mostly it’s for old tenants and junk mail. Every few months the landlord throws it away.” He smiled at me. “Are you Sierra or Lucy?”

  “Sierra.” Strike one against the place—he was a guy.

  He opened the door for me to come in. His black hair was so curly it made corkscrews falling around his bony face. He was smiling a lot, and had that overly-relaxed bohemian air. “I’m Jake. This is it!”

  His hand swept out to encompass a large room with three battered couches of various colors and sizes, with tables scattered among them. A large plain dining table was closest to the door with eight assorted chairs pulled haphazardly around it.

  I was kind of appalled, especially when I saw the large bathroom created by drywall to create an open-air nook, exactly like the kitchen area. There were two refrigerators in the kitchen, and Jake showed me the cabinet that would be mine and the empty shelves in one fridge waiting for the new occupant.

  “How many people live here?” I asked faintly.

  “There’s five bedrooms.”

  Strike two—I couldn’t imagine sharing an apartment with that many people.

  Lining one long wall were a series of doors. One of them had a padlock on it. “Marky is out of town. He travels with a touring company. I think he’s in Phoenix this week.”

  Near the back, Jake flung open a door to reveal an eight by ten room. A sturdy wooden loft bed filled the end wall over the window that had lots of small rectangular panes. It was actually half of a window with the makeshift wall cutting it in half so it was shared by the room next door.

  “You can open this part,” Jake explained, turning the handle so one pane of the window swung outward. “You have two in here. I almost swiped this room when Sheila left, but I like being on the front end. It’s quieter than back here by the kitchen.”

  “That’s some sales pitch you have there.”

  Jake laughed. “It is what it is. You want to see the roof? We like to hang out there in the evening.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “The folks on our floor and the third floor. There’s eight rooms up there. Ours is smaller because the landlord lives in the back, through that door.”

  I looked at yet another black-painted door between the kitchen and the last room. “His place is through there?”

  “Yeah. It’s handy when the toilet stops up.”

  “I’m sure.”

  I followed Jake up the stairs, but I didn’t know why I was bothering. This was not the place for me. Most definitely.

  Then I was on the tar-paper roof looking at one of the best views of the city I had ever seen. Manhattan stretched north and south, the golden glow of the afternoon sun catching the windows.

  “Wow!” I exclaimed. “You can see all of the bridges!”

  “You should see it at night,” Jake told me. “We watched the fireworks from here on the Fourth. We have a huge party every year.”

  From the trio over in one corner, an obnoxiously loud voice called, “She’s invited next year! Jake, tell your pretty friend she’s invited.”

  The invite came from the heavy-set guy reclining in the folding chair next to some boxed soil where vegetables grew. The man and two women were sitting under the shade cast by a big umbrella.

  “She’s here to see Sheila’s room,” Jake explained.

  I followed him over. The man was wearing beaten-up shorts and a T-shirt, and his cheeks had four days stubble on them. But his head was perfectly smooth and bald.

  “Keith, Candice and Devi, this is Sierra,” Jake introduced.

  The three of them nodded at me, looking me over. It was every horrible experience I had gone through in my room search, rolled into one. I felt judged and dismissed in seconds.

  “Why is she smiling weird like that?” Devi asked Candice. Devi was all softness: soft white flesh, soft beige clothes, and soft washed-out hair.

  “I don’t know.” Candice’s blunt voice much lower than I expected. After a moment, I realized Candice might be a guy. Or a very manly woman who was rocking a black chiffon blouse.

  “This isn’t a job interview, honey,” Candice told me, raising her voice like I was a little slow.

  I realized I was smiling. It was my at-work face that I wore without thinking anymore. The pleasant approachable face I put on around people I needed to please. It was the trick that Lola could never learn, or never wanted to learn.

  That reminded me of how happy Lola had looked at Festival, before our fight.

  My smile vanished.

  “That’s better,” Devi said in her high wispy voice.

  Jake was still standing there, and he was grinning from ear-to-ear. I asked, “How come he can smile and not me?”

  “Jake means it,” Devi said.

  I had no defense without my smile-shield, so my feelings of loss and unhappiness lapped over me. “Most people don’t want to rent a room to someone who’s a downer.”

  “Are you a downer?” Devi asked curiously.

  “Not usually. But it’s been a bad week. That’s why I’m looking for a place.”

  Candice sat forward eagerly. “Divorce? Cheating boyfriend? Murdered roommate?”

  “Uh… no.” I gave her a look. “My sister left and I can’t afford my apartment without her.”

  Candice and Devi sat back, clearly disappointed that I didn’t have a juicier story. I had failed to impress the owners of yet another apartment I didn’t want. It was demoralizing.

  But Keith finally spoke again, declaring, “You look like you need a beer.”

  He popped open the cooler next to his chair and held out a Corona. “There’s limes on the cutting board.”


  It was barely four in the afternoon, a little early to start drinking. And I had three other places to see, so I really didn’t have time. But the breeze on the roof was cool, and the empty chair in the shade looked inviting.

  Candice and Devi started talking like they were carrying on a conversation that I had interrupted by my arrival. Something about an ex-boyfriend, and a new girl he was seeing.

  “Sure,” I agreed, accepting the beer from Keith. “Why not?”

  Jake went back down to wait for the next applicant, while I fixed my beer and settled into the chair. It was even more comfortable in the shade with the fine breeze lifting my hair off my forehead. The city was spread out in front of me like I could pluck anything I wanted from it. But that was an illusion. The city dangled the possibility of amazing things, but how could I get any of that for myself? I was stuck in a low-end job and would live in a low-end dive. It had been that way for years and would continue that way for years to come. I knew it wasn’t easy working your way up, but I hadn’t expected that every rung would be this herculean effort.

  I leaned my head back against the chair, hoping Keith wouldn’t try to talk to me. I was glad for a moment of peace before I had to hit that bus ride back to the subway and civilization.

  I only got half way through my beer when Jake spoiled it by bringing Lucy onto the roof. Lucy was a bouncy girl who reminded me of a terrier with her shaggy hair and constant yapping.

  “I love it!” Lucy exclaimed, rushing over to us. She included me in her fawning, mistakenly thinking I was one of the roommates. “It’s perfect! I’ve always wanted to live in a commune, where everyone shares everything and eats big meals at the table together. I can cook! I make eggplant to die for. You have to let me make eggplant for you!”

  Candice looked appalled, one hand on her chest, as Lucy got in her face, talking about the fresh veggies and fruit she got from her job in a health food coop in Bushwick. Devi was shaking her head slightly, looking down her nose at the flow of one-sided talk.

  I smiled. Seeing it from this side, Lucy’s eagerness was definitely off-putting.

  Lucy looked around. “I’ll get a chair and sit down and tell you about myself—“

  “You don’t want to live here,” Keith suddenly said. “The landlord’s an asshole.”

  Lucy hesitated, as if she might not have heard correctly. But Candice and Devi were nodding. “He is,” Candice agreed, lowering her voice. “He comes and goes as he pleases from next door, so we have to lock our rooms to keep him out. There’s no way a pretty girl like you would be safe.”

  Lucy was frowning at her. “You’re joking.”

  She looked at Jake, who lifted his hands in a wide shrug, still smiling. “I’ve heard the stories,” he said, “but it’s not a problem for me.”

  “What happened to Sheila, the last girl who had my room?” Lucy asked.

  They all shut their lips and looked at each other, obviously unwilling to talk about it.

  Lucy’s pretty face was now twisted in doubt. “I think you’re lying to me. What kind of people are you? I wanted to live here.”

  “You can get an application on your way out,” Jake assured her.

  “I don’t want an application,” she said as she left the roof.

  As they disappeared, Candice made a derisive sound. “Next!”

  “Weak,” I agreed. “Very weak.”

  Devi laughed out loud, a startlingly beautiful sound.

  “Some people are too sensitive,” Keith agreed. “High maintenance is a real drag. Now you didn’t run off when we busted your chops, Sierra. You sat down like a real human being and had a drink with us.”

  I felt better than I had since my fight with Lola. “I’m glad I did.”

  “You want the room?” Keith asked. “A thousand bucks gets you in. Five hundred due the first of next month.”

  My eyes opened wide. “I can have it? Don’t I have to talk to the landlord?”

  Keith took a swig of beer. “I am the landlord.”

  “You own this building?” I asked incredulously.

  “You don’t have to sound so surprised. But in fact, no, I don’t own this building. I’ve rented these two floors for the past fifteen years from the owner, a sweet old lady. She likes having me rent out the rooms and take care of the place.”

  “So you were calling yourself an asshole,” I realized.

  “Yeah.” He laughed and tossed his beer bottle in the big garbage can.

  Devi leaned closer to me. “But he won’t molest you unless you ask him to.”

  “I figured that,” I assured her.

  I looked at Jake, Candice and Devi. Suddenly it wasn’t so hard imagining living with them. It would sure cure my lonely blues! It was nothing like what I had envisioned for myself in the city, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe my own judgment wasn’t to be trusted. So I would trust theirs. They thought I fit in, and pray to god, I could.

  “Yes, I’m in,” I agreed.

  Chapter 18

  Sierra

  Things moved quickly after that. I signed the new lease and called to let my old landlord know I was going to be out by Monday, the first of the month. The guy at the management company was snappy about the short notice and warned me that they would “recover” money for any damages. But Keith assured me that New York was very tenant-friendly, and unless there was damage or I left the place dirty, I would probably be let off my lease with no additional penalties. After all, they could rent the place for more now.

  I texted Lola that she had two days to pick up the rest of her stuff before the keys were turned in. I wasn’t sure if Lola would bother, but she showed up with Martin, June and Spike, and cleaned out the apartment of everything I didn’t pack into the van I rented from Man with a Van. Between me and the Man, we managed to get my twin bed down the stairs along with a dozen boxes of my stuff, including some nice kitchenware I had accumulated.

  Lola took our turquoise couch, the kitchen table, her own bed and dresser, and everything else. Lola didn’t have much to say to me, and she wasn’t even apologetic about blowing up my life. She just asked me where my new place was, and said, “Huh, that’s near Williamsburg!”

  I checked the map online and realized that Williamsburg was about twenty blocks away from my room in Greenpoint. Williamsburg was the epicenter of coolness in Brooklyn. True, there was no good way to get there but to walk or take a cab, but I had walked further for less. It was funny that I had no idea when I had rented the room. It felt like Siberia at the time. No wonder Lucy had been so enthused.

  My first few nights in the huge echoing loft were not easy. There was even more traffic on McGuinness than Ditmars, and the constant rumble of the nearby BQE freeway never stopped. Plus I had to fit myself into my roommates’ routines. Jake went to work in the morning, so when I had a day shift, I had to time my shower carefully or I was screwed. Devi played her guitar every evening in her room, but the sound came clearly through the adjourning wall. I started going up to the roof to soak in the view whenever Devi played to avoid her hippy-dippy voice. And Candice was loud in the kitchen, as Jake had warned me, grinding her coffee and giving great hacking coughs as she puttered around in the morning.

  But there were unexpected rewards, as well. A smile and a friendly hello when I came home. Someone to sit with on the couch when I watched a movie at night. All of my roommates were good company, though I didn’t have much in common with any of them. Jake worked at Home Depot in Middle Village, while Candice was a bartender in Chelsea. Devi was technically attending film school, though Candice said she had been at it for over six years with nothing to show for it yet. Devi’s parents sent her a monthly check and she worked part-time at a used clothing store, where she got her flowing old-fashioned clothes. The others said Marky was a quiet guy who had gotten his first break as a dancer in a touring company. He would be returning at the end of the month.

  Yet even as I settled in and got used to everything, I felt disjoint
ed and out of place. It was like a knife had cut off my life behind me, and everything was now different. Mostly I missed Lola. I had never realized how much I relied on my sister as my companion. Lola was my best friend. We used to always be together. Since Lola had started seriously dating Dick, that had naturally lessened, but as a detective he worked long, irregular hours so we still had plenty of time to hang out.

  I wondered what Lola was doing now. But I knew if I texted her, Lola would resent it. Lola wanted a clean break from me. She wanted it to be this way.

  And that hurt.

  It didn’t help that Victor had rejected me at the same time.

  No wonder I decided to move into the loft. At least they wanted me. I felt like I had crawled into a hole, wounded and bedraggled, where I could lick myself into order again. These people might be a little weird, but they were nice to me, and suddenly that was the most important thing. To be around people who liked me.

  So when I got home from a late shift on Friday night, I was happy to sit on the roof with Keith and Devi and a few of the others from the third floor who were partying at home. I was still there at two in the morning when Candice got home from the bar.

  The next morning, I had a vague memory of Candice helping me down from the roof. The way her strong arms supported me reminded me of Victor.

  As I woke up, I could hear Candice hacking away in the kitchen, banging pans around. Instead of irritating me, I smiled and put on my robe to go out. Candice looked as rumpled as I felt, with her short black hair sticking up in several directions. She was making her coffee.

  “Thanks for being so sweet to me last night,” I told her. “I drank too much.”

  “How do you feel? Want some coffee?”

  There was a strict no-taking rule in the loft, and sharing was by invitation-only. So I was pleased by the offer. “Yes, I’d love some. I’ve got a couple of cheese Danish in the fridge I picked up from the bakery yesterday. You want one?”

  “It looks like we have ourselves breakfast. Pass it over!”

  We sat down and ate our Danish and drank coffee. I asked about the neighborhood, and Candice told me, “If you’re looking for a nice place where you can meet people, go to the Pencil Factory with Devi tonight. It’s just an ordinary bar, but that’s where the young people are going.”