Chapter 1
The alarm was going off.
Harold reached over and hit the snooze button.
Five minutes later, it was going off again.
Harold reached over and hit the snooze button again.
“Harold! Quit hitting the snooze button and get your butt outta bed!” called a familiar voice from the other room.
Harold rubbed his eyes and let out a long, loud groan. He slithered out of bed and grabbed a pair of sweats off the floor. He got one leg through, but the second leg proved to be more challenging and Harold took two skips, leaned to the left, threw his right arm out to counter-balance, and in the end finally succumbed to the inevitable pain of the hardwood floor. He finished putting his pants on before he got up and walked out of the bedroom.
“Good morning! Have a nice trip?” Connie said.
“Hey, you don’t know that I fell,” he bluffed, “Something fell off the shelf in my closet.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You know you fell, you know I know you fell, deal with it.”
Harold noticed that the top right of her head seemed to be experiencing some type of anti-gravity issues as the dark curly hair seemed to be trying to escape the bonds of earth. He smirked at her.
“Nice hair,” he said to divert the focus of the conversation.
“Why thank you. I got up extra early to work on it. It’s all the rage in Paris, you know!”
“I think ‘rage’ might be exactly the right word to describe it.”
Connie stood in his kitchen making French toast. She was wearing an over-sized t-shirt and puffy slippers in the shape of two Pikachu.
“Shut up! I know it’s a mess. You’re not exactly ready for the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog yourself.”
“Well I don’t know,” he said with a slight chuckle, “I’m looking pretty…suave!” He struck several ridiculous poses until Connie cracked up.
“Okay Zoolander,” she laughed, “Sit down and eat, or we’re going to be late – again.”
They sat across from each other at the kitchen bar as they did every morning and ate breakfast. Connie lived across the hall in a similar, albeit tidier, apartment. They had keys to each others’ places, and every morning she would come over and fix breakfast before they got ready to go to work. They could’ve eaten at her place too, except Harold had a fondness for the snooze bar and would probably never have been on time for work.
Connie Stinson and Harold Finn had been best friends since the fourth grade. The Stinson’s had bought the house next door, and Harold had been so disappointed that they only had a daughter in his age range that he didn’t even go over to meet her. The first day of school had been typically brutal for a chubby girl with braces and glasses. A teasing trifecta that had reached such a height by the end of the day that Harold stepped in and bravely ordered everyone to leave her alone. It probably would have worked if Harold had been of any higher social standing than the new girl. As it was, it just increased the crowd’s frenzy of sing-song insults with two targets in their sights. Harold grabbed Connie’s hand and ran down the street as fast as he could, leaving the scornful mob behind laughing. The two shy fugitives didn’t say much until they got to Connie’s house. She invited him up to see her room and Harold begrudgingly followed into the house and up the stairs. He walked into her room expecting to see an explosion of pink, purple, unicorns, and glitter. Instead he saw a collection of Transformers the likes of which his eyes had never beheld!
From that day on, they had been inseparable. They had gone through grade school, high school, and college together, and when they had graduated, they even went to work at the same company, Global Investing, Inc. Different divisions, though. Connie had been a computer major and gone into the IT department, while Harold had majored in accounting and went to that department.
Harold was rinsing his dishes in the sink, and trying his best to wake up.
“See ya soon!” Connie said and disappeared out the door.
He jumped in the shower and contemplated his day. He loved his job, but he hated the mean-spirited jerks that worked there. It was the same old story as high school and college, only worse now because he had come to the harsh realization that he was the problem. He was socially inept, and an easy mark for anyone looking to feel better about himself, and he did little to defend himself. He rinsed off his feelings of dread and got dressed.
As soon as he deemed himself ready for the workplace, he headed across the hall and into Connie’s apartment.
“Hey Girl! You ready to go?”
“Not yet,” Connie called from the bathroom.
Harold walked back to the bathroom to find her wrapped in a towel in front of the mirror putting her makeup on.
“You’re not even dressed yet?”
“I know I’m sorry. I’m trying to hurry! At least my hair’s done.”
“Glad to see gravity has been restored.”
She looked at him and had no idea what he was talking about. She let it go, and went back to makeup.
“I heard the boss is going to be back in town today. We really can’t be late,” he said as he sat down on the toilet.
“Are you serious? Crap! Crap! Crap!” She spun around and took off for the closet.
Harold went and sat on the bed, and quickly Connie emerged from the closet like some kind of magician. She was wearing a business-like but sexy dress that Harold had never seen before, and she looked ready to go except for the fact that she was wearing two different shoes.
“Left or right?” she asked.
“Right,” he said, and she whirled back into the closet and came back out just as quickly.
“Okay, let’s go!”
They headed to the elevator and were soon walking down the street to work. They lived only a few blocks from work, so unless it was raining or too windy and cold, they walked together every day past the many shops and restaurants that lined the street on their way. Most of them were closed this time of the morning, but on the way home the sidewalk would be packed with shoppers and eaters. Harold noticed one of the shops as they passed. Mr. Doshi’s Chinese Take Out and Gift Emporium.
“We should stop by here for dinner on the way home,” he said motioning with his arm, “I’ve been craving Chinese lately.”
Connie looked the place over quickly.
“Chinese sounds good, but are you sure that’s the place you wanna go?
“Why not?”
“It looks a little run down. And old. And dirty.”
“Oh c’mon, it didn’t look that bad. I thought it looked promising. Besides, there’s a gift shop too! Looked like they had a lot of knick-knacks!”
Harold knew Connie’s weakness for small cute things that took up space on virtually every horizontal surface of her apartment.
“You couldn’t even see in the place! It was too dark! But I do have to pick up something for my mom’s birthday next week, so we’ll try it out if you want,” she consented.
Besides, she was getting too out of breath to argue. They had left a little late, and Harold had set a pretty quick pace to make up for it. He wasn’t overly tall, just shy of six feet, but she was only five-three with short legs that made it tough to keep up.
“Harold, we gotta slow down!” she gasped, “I’m too outta shape to keep up!”
“Okay,” he said looking at his watch, “We should be fine now. So, I never got to ask you why you were all dressed up today?”
She had hoped he wouldn’t notice.
“What do you mean? I dress up every day.”
“C’mon, not like this. You’re wearing a new dress that’s definitely higher on the “hubba hubba” scale than your usual, you’re wearing an inch higher heels than usual, and you’re wearing your hair down. Who’s the guy?”
“You don’t know there’s a guy. I just felt like being girly today.”
“Yeah right, who’s the guy?”
“I’ve got a meeting today.”
“And the guy in the meeting is…?”
“Unnngh! You make me so mad sometimes!”
They stopped as someone had dropped what looked to be a case of beer on the sidewalk. Broken glass and muddy beer was everywhere. Harold put his arm around Connie’s waist and she gave a little squeal as he lifted her slightly off the ground and carried her across.
“Thank you, Harold,” she said a little sheepishly.
“I just lifted you over some glass. You hardly weigh a hundred pounds!”
“I weigh 138, and I didn’t say thank you for that. I said thank you because I know you always think of me first. You’re the only guy I’ve ever known who’s treated me like that, and you’ve done it all your life.”
He looked at her for a second, and in that moment felt a powerful attraction, which he would not deny he felt from time to time, but always quickly dismissed.
“Sheesh! You’re a sap! And speaking of guys…”
“Okay! Gary Nolan is going to be in the meeting today. Jackie in payroll told me that Gary had asked about me, so I thought I might encourage him a little. There, are you happy?”
“Ecstatic,” he said, his voice trailing off. There was a bit of a moment of silence, until Harold spoke up.
“Gary Nolan? Really?”
“I know,” she said resignedly, “He’s not exactly the…but I haven’t been on a date in a long time Harold! I’m beginning to think maybe my standards are a little high.”
“Connie, trust me, your standards are not too high!”
“Dude, we are not going to talk about my boyfriends! You can’t be objective, nobody is ever good enough.”
“Well, they aren’t! And you know it. That’s why it always ends badly.”
“Hey, I know, let’s talk about your dating life, or lack thereof. When was the last time you went on a date?”
“I don’t remember,” he said, dreading the ugly turn this conversation had taken.
“I do! About 4 months ago, Sheila, the receptionist. There was a freakin’ genius!”
“Hey! There was a lot more to her than you thought. She had some brains!”
“Yeah, two big ones!” Connie thrust her chest out and in a little girl voice said, “Oh Harold, could you help me, I can’t see my feet, could you tell me if my shoes are on right?”
Harold had already prepared an argument, but he couldn’t help himself, and burst into laughter.
“Hey, you don’t have a lot of room to talk, ya know!”
“I may have big boobs, but I am NOT stupid, so don’t even compare me to Sheila!”
“It’s kinda hard not to when you do such a brilliant impersonation!”
They both laughed as they walked into the doors of Global Investing. They rode the elevator together until the 3rd floor where Connie got off.
“Have a good day, Harold!” she said, giving him a friendly shove and walking out the elevator, “See you after work!”
“Say hi to Gary for me!” he called sarcastically after her.
The doors closed until the elevator stopped on the 5th floor. The doors opened, and Harold took a deep breath and faced what he called The Gauntlet. It was stretch of real estate between the elevator and his cubicle. The 28 steps that he dreaded every work day, because those 28 steps were the playground of Eddie Malcolm, Steve Sadowski, and Jerry Carrow. They were three of Harold’s co-workers who loved pranks and practical jokes, and since Harold had practically been born with a “kick me” sign on his back, they worked on him mercilessly. He stepped out of the elevator.
“One, two, three, four, five,” he counted in his head, “Six, seven, eight. Hi Phyllis, Have a good weekend? Oh good! Twelve, thirteen, fourteen. Jim! How ‘bout those Raiders, eh? Twenty, twenty-one. Almost there! Twenty-two and – Eddie! How’s it goin’?”
“Hey Harry! Good to see you!” he said with a malicious edge, “Have a good weekend?”
“Yeah, Raiders won, Lakers won, it was a good weekend.”
“Well, see ya ‘round!”
Harold froze for a second. He didn’t know what to do. Eddie wouldn’t let him go like that, but he couldn’t figure out what was going on, so he had to walk away. Only six more steps was his final thought when Eddie tripped him from behind and Harold went sprawling to the floor. He could hear Eddie’s high pitched laughter behind him. He still didn’t quite get it, this seemed a little beneath Eddie. Just tripping him didn’t have any of the flair of the previous humiliations. Oh well, He shrugged it off and got up.
“Nice, Eddie. It never gets old, does it?” he said sarcastically.
“No way!” Eddie could hardly talk through the laughter, “Thank God you’re such a good sport, Harold!”
“Lucky you,” Harold mumbled as he walked the last six steps to his cubicle.
He sat down at his desk and reached underneath to turn his computer on. While he waited for it to boot, he looked at the pictures he had tacked to the half wall in front of him. Most of the pictures were of him and Connie at various places and occasions. There was a picture of his mother and a picture of his mother and father together before his dad had died. And there was a picture of a large sailboat moored in the bay of some tropical island somewhere. It wasn’t his dream, it was Connie’s dad’s dream, but he shared the picture with Harold, and there was something about it that resonated with him. He didn’t know why, because he was both afraid of boats and the ocean, but it made him feel better looking at it. Maybe the peaceful solitude of it just soothed him. He heard the chime from the computer signaling it was ready to go and he logged in and started opening the files he was working on. He hadn’t been working long when he felt a heavy thump on his back.
“Good Morning, Harold!” said Peter Stinson, the supervisor of the accounting department, and more importantly, Connie’s dad.
“Good morning, Mr. Stinson!” he replied
“Harold, when are you gonna bite the bullet and marry my daughter?”
This was an extremely popular topic for Mr. Stinson, much to the chagrin of both Harold and Connie. He thought the world of Harold, and always had hope that someday he would be his son-in-law.
“I’m not sure that’s in the cards, sir. I’m not sure I’m her type.”
“Have you seen her type Harold? That girl needs help, and you’re the one to help her!”
“How’s the boat?” he said to change the subject. Mr. Stinson’s love of boating was always a sure diversion.
He had saved his entire life to buy a 48’ sailboat to retire on.
“She’s almost ready for the open water.” He said, the excitement flashing in his eyes, “It won’t be long now, my boy, me and the Mrs. sailing the seas!”
“Did you decide on a name yet?”
“No, not yet. Got any ideas?”
“How about the Pequod?” Harold tossed out.
“I thought about that, but decided it was just a little too fatalistic, don’t you think?”
“Yeah maybe. You better decide on something fast, you’re retiring pretty soon, aren’t you?”
“I should have been gone already! But there’s one last thing I’ve got to clear up before I go, and then it’s off to Tahiti for mai-tais and fishing! Well, I better leave you alone, I’m not paying you to sit around and talk! Take care, son.”
“You have a great day, Mr. Stinson.”
He turned to walk away, then stopped.
“And Harold, don’t give up on Connie.”
And then he was gone.
The rest of Harold’s day was pretty uneventful until Connie called around 2:30.
“Harold, what happened?” she said sounding agitated.
“What do you mean?”
“I just got an e-mail with a video of you falling in slow motion. It was sent out to everyone in the company, from Eddie.”
“I knew there had to be more to it!”
“What? More to what?”
“Eddie tripped me this morning, and I figured there had to be more to it than just a simple trip. He must’ve had one of the guys filming it.”
“Harold! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so sick of that idiot Eddie! Why don’t you stand up to that guy? He’s just another moron bully that needs to get what’s coming to him. I’m gonna make that guy pay one of these days!”
“I didn’t say anything because it really wasn’t that big a deal, and I know how upset you get about Eddie and I didn’t want you to get all postal for some stupid prank.”
“He just embarrassed you in front of the whole company! That’s a pretty big deal. Oh, he’s gone too far this time! I’m gonna make his life miserable!”
Harold was laughing at Connie’s outrage. She wasn’t really all that volatile, but something about Eddie picking on Harold really set her off.
“Deep breaths, girl, it’s gonna be all right. Deep breaths.”
“This isn’t funny! He’s gonna pay for this. You’ll see.”
“Okay, okay! Just don’t get crazy. I’ll see you after work.”
“Alright. See you then.”
He hung up the phone, and it wasn’t 15 minutes until he heard the frustrated voice of Eddie yelling across the floor.
“Is anyone else having trouble with their computer? I got logged out and can’t get logged back in.”
There was a chorus of “No’s” and Harold giggled a little bit. And although he told Connie it was no big deal, there was something deep down that rejoiced at the revenge. He got an e-mail from Connie that said only:
“You don’t mess with Connie Stinson’s best friend!” As soon as he closed the e-mail, Eddie was at his cubicle.
“Hey Harold, I’m in big trouble. I’ve got an important report I’m working on that has to be done by the end of the day, and there’s something wrong with my computer.”
“Just go down to the workroom and do it on one of those computers.”
“I can’t, I’ve got files that are only on my computer that I need. Not to mention half the report. There isn’t time to re-do the whole thing. I’ve been calling IT, but all I can get is voicemail, and no one’s calling back. Can you call Connie and see if she can help?”
It was so completely like Eddie to come to Harold and ask him for a favor. Somehow, his brain lacked sufficient power to realize that the person you torment constantly is not the best place to go for a favor. But then, maybe it was.
“Okay, I’ll give her a call, but she’s pretty busy, no guarantees.”
“Thanks, man, I owe you one!”
Eddie was gone and Harold stared at his phone. He took a couple of moments to prepare and then he called Connie.
“Hey Harold! How’s Eddie?” she asked, giggling.
“Yeah, that’s pretty funny. But ya gotta fix it.”
“What? Are you nuts? He gets everything he deserves. I’m officially changing my name from Constance to Karma!”
“Okay hippie chick, but Eddie’s got a report due by the end of the day, and I know he’s a jerk, but I don’t want him to lose his job because of a couple of pranks.”
“Harold you are too nice! Why you wanna bail Eddie out is beyond me, but I’ll fix it. In about a half hour, let him sweat a little more!”
“Okay Con, thank you. I’ll admire you for being the bigger person.”
“It’s a lot more fun being the littler person!”
“Bye!”
Harold spent the rest of his day lost in numbers, the place that he loved the most. A safe place where everything made sense, nothing was ever rude or mean or ever pretended to be something it wasn’t. By the same token, there was never anything amazing or exciting, but that was a small price to pay for such a safe haven. Eddie’s computer began working again (after a half hour delay) and he had gotten his report done. He never came to say thank you to Harold, and that was definitely not a shock.
He watched the clock for the last five minutes of the day, as was his usual routine, waiting like a runner in the starting blocks, except he wasn’t waiting to start a race, but to start his life. The last second ticked and he was off to the elevator.
There were quite a few other people running the race and they semi-politely pushed their way into the elevator. There was a collective groan as Harold pushed the 3rd floor button.
“What? Like it’s not gonna stop there anyway,” he said sarcastically.
The elevator stopped on the 3rd floor and the doors opened and not a soul was there. Evidently the IT department didn’t loathe their jobs quite as much as the accountants on the 5th floor. The doors started to close, and Harold hit the “open” button. The groan was much louder this time and an anonymous voice from the back said, “You’re killin’ us, Finn!” Just as people started to look for some rope, Connie bounced into the elevator.
“Hey Harold!” Connie smiled, “Sorry I’m late.”
Harold’s entire demeanor changed. There was something about Connie’s smile that just made him feel better. It was like being on a long vacation and coming home to sleep in your own bed.
“No problem,” he said. And then there was one last groan from the elevator.
“Hey that’s just rude,” Harold protested, but as he looked around he realized that no one felt bad.
The doors opened again and they escaped to the outdoors, instantly transformed into people again. They headed down the sidewalk, Connie literally springing at Harold’s side.
“Okay, tell me the look on Eddie’s face!”
“He was pretty panicked, and kinda pale.”
“Did he look like he was going to cry?”
“Ya know, I guess maybe he did look that desperate,” Harold admitted.
“WOOOOOOOOO HOOOOOOOOO!” Connie shouted as she thrust both hands in the air, and skipped around in circles, “Oh I wished I could have seen that moronic weasel squirm.”
“You kinda freak me out sometimes when you go all ‘evil Connie’.”
“What’s the matter, Harold? Frightened by my evil genius?” she said in a horribly thick Russian accent, “Do not worry strange, little pasty man, when I take over the world, you will be right by my side!”
“So weird!”
They laughed the rest of the way to Mr. Doshi’s Chinese Take Out and Gift Emporium. Harold opened the door for Connie and heard the familiar “clang” of a bell attached to the frame of the door, as they walked into the restaurant. It was a small place with ugly speckled tile on the floor made less attractive by harsh fluorescent lighting that was interspersed in the acoustic tile ceiling. There was red velvet wall paper on the side walls, and faux paper “lanterns” hanging randomly around the room. There were three small, round, white formica tables with small wrought iron chairs around them. There was a long counter with a wall behind it with a window and an order wheel, and a door at the far right barely covered with swinging saloon doors. On the right hand side wall was a large opening leading into the next room that was full of floor to ceiling shelves packed with what looked to be at least one of everything from China. Every spot of the place, high and low, was sparklingly clean.
An older oriental man burst through the saloon doors from the back.
“Herro! Wecome to mistah Doshi’s,” he said enthusiastically with the stilted staccato of a thick Chinese accent, “You been heah befo?”
“No,” Harold replied.
“Oh! Good, good. My name is Mistah Doshi, we got rotta good food fo you!”
“I’m Harold, and this is Connie.”
“Oh you make a nice cupoh. You make a beautifo chidren!”
Harold and Connie were both a little embarrassed, but it was a common mistake.
“No, no, we’re just friends,” Harold corrected him.
“Rearry? So solly, my mistake. What you like a eat?”
They looked over the large menu hung on the wall, lighted with little black plastic letters, and finally decided on dinner number 6.
“I guess we’re gonna have the number 6,” Harold told him.
Mr. Doshi yelled to the back through the window.
“Numbah 6! Numbah 6! You wanna egg loll?”
“Sure.”
“Egg loll! Egg loll!” he shouted. “Anyting ess?”
“No, that oughtta do it,” Harold told him.
Mr. Doshi rang up the total on the cash register and Harold gave him a credit card. He signed the receipt and they went to sit down and wait for their food.
“You go looka my gift shop if you want. Many fancy things in theah,” Mr. Doshi said.
“Oh yeah,” Connie said, “I wanted to see that.”
They walked into the dimly lit room with the shelves and began to look around. Connie had never seen so many Buddha statues and golden cats in her life. But as they poked around, they began to see the wide range of treasures packed on the shelves. The contrast was stark between the stereotypical junk and some truly sublime pieces of Chinese culture.
Connie stood admiring an exquisitely patterned green vase. She looked up to ask Harold’s opinion, and he was gone.
“Don’t break anything,” she called out.
“Okay, Mom,” he answered.
He was at the far back corner of the room. At the opposite corner was an open doorway leading into the kitchen. Harold had spotted something shiny that caught his eye high up on the shelf. It was a driftwood base, that seemed to swirl around a crystal ball and the wood almost looked like fire around the clear globe. He stepped up on the first shelf, clinging precariously to the shelf at chest level. He reached up and grabbed the piece and hopped down to the floor. Miraculously, he had not fallen. Connie would be amazed, he thought, smiling.
Harold inspected the curious doo-dad, and noticed that looking through the crystal that there was something etched on the bottom. He pulled the ball from its holder and turned it over. What he saw appeared to be some kind of Chinese character that looked familiar, but at first he couldn’t place it.
That’s it, that’s where I recognize it from!, he thought “Connie, come here.”
Connie appeared from around the corner of a shelf, and saw Harold standing there with the ball in his hand.
“What did you find? You know the prices here are really good.”
“Here, look at the symbol on this. It looks exactly like my birthmark.”
Harold handed her the ball, and turned to his right and bent his left ear forward exposing a small birthmark.
“That is so weird, Harold. It is exactly like your birthmark. I wonder what it means?”
“I don’t know, do you think we should ask Mr. Doshi?”
“Of course. You gotta know what it means.”
Harold went to put the crystal back in the base and fumbled it. As the ball hung in the air in front of him, his hands were a blur as he desperately tried to catch it, but gravity won the battle once again and it hit the side of his foot and sped past Connie and towards the kitchen door. Harold gave chase with Connie close behind, but when he got through the door, he was met by Mr. Doshi who was holding the orb and smiling.
“You blake it, you buy it!”
“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” Harold groveled.
“How you find dis? Dis in back, waaaay up high.”
“I don’t know, I just kinda walked right to it. It caught my eye, and I wanted to see it. Why, is there something special about it?”
“It pletty hahd, not blake when you dop it!” he laughed, “Dat pletty speshow!”
“There’s a symbol on it, do you know what it means?”
“Oh…dat mahk, ret me see, Dat an ancient symbow, it mean,” he paused as Harold and Connie leaned closer, hanging on his words.
“Made in China!”
Harold and Connie’s disappointment showed immediately on their faces as Mr. Doshi burst into laughter once again and handed the crystal back to Harold. Connie headed back into the gift shop to grab the green vase, and Harold was heading back to put the disappointing crystal up when he heard Mr. Doshi.
“You gotta mahk?”
“Huh?” he said, not understanding.
This seemed to agitate Mr. Doshi.
“A mahk! A mahk! You know, mahk on skin. Mahk on skin,” he rubbed his arm as he said it.
“Oh,” a light went on, “You mean a birthmark!”
“Dat what I say!”
“Uh, no,” he stammered.
“Okay, You food is leady!”
Harold walked to the back of the gift shop. How weird. Why would he ask if I had a birthmark? He shook it off and put the crystal back in the base and climbed up to put it back, then headed back out to the restaurant. Connie was paying for the green vase, and their bag of food was sitting on the counter.
“Hey, are you feeling okay?” she asked, “You look a little pale. Did you fall again?”
“No, I didn’t fall,” he said indignantly, then added, “I’m fine.”
“What do you think about this vase? Do you think my mom will like it?”
“I think she’ll love it,” he said as he grabbed the bag of food, “Wow, this weighs a ton. We’re gonna be eating Chinese food all week!”
“Best varue in town,” the old man chimed in.
Mr. Doshi wrapped the vase in paper and put it in a bag and handed it to Connie and they headed for the door. Harold held it open as Connie walked through.
“Harold,” Mr. Doshi called, and Harold turned his head back to hear the old man say - in perfect English, “Come back when you want to know the truth.”
Harold walked out the door more confused than he had ever been in his life. He didn’t know what to think about the happenings at Mr. Doshi’s. What started off to be a new dining experience had turned into something mysterious and troubling and it showed all over his face.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Harold?”
Connie’s voice seemed to snap him back to reality. Sort of.
“I think so, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?”
“Just stuff.”
Connie knew to back off. She knew everything about Harold, and one thing she knew was that when he was hit with new information, it took him some time to process it all before he could regurgitate it. She also knew that he couldn’t keep from telling her everything, so she just had to be patient. But she knew something was bothering him.
“Well, that was just awesome, Harold. I really had my doubts about that place, but it was pretty cool, and I got a great present for my mom’s birthday. And that Mr. Doshi’s a real kick, isn’t he? Although he was a little tough to understand sometimes. He must not have lived here long, his ‘Engrish was hollible’” she said giggling.
“Yeah, his English was pretty bad...,” he responded slowly.
The elevator at their apartment filled with the smell of Chinese food.
“I’m so hungry!” Connie said, doing a little dance that made Harold wonder if she had to pee, too.
The doors opened to the dimly lit hallway, and there were two men in overcoats standing between their doors. One of them held a little leather organizer that held a pad of paper. They looked up, towards the elevator but did not smile. Harold and Connie looked at each other quizzically, and then shrugged and walked toward the men.
“Are you Constance Stinson?” the man with the organizer asked.
“Yeah, I’m Constance, is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry ma’am, but we’re here to inform you that your parents were killed in a car accident this afternoon.”
Connie lost her grip on the bag she was carrying and never heard the vase shatter as it hit the floor. The blood drained from her face and she felt woozy. She slumped to her knees and leaned against the apartment door to keep from falling over. She felt like she was going to throw up. She looked down and saw droplets falling on her dress. Am I crying? I must be crying. “Your parent’s were killed in a car accident.” How can that be?
Harold knelt down beside her, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her to his chest. She seemed so frail. A minute ago she was taking over the world, and now she had been knocked to her knees, her body shaking with uncontrollable sobs. They sat there in the dim light alone, desperate, and timeless.
When Connie stopped crying, Harold got up and unlocked his door and turned on the light. He helped Connie to her feet, and holding her tightly, led her to the couch in his apartment. He went back to the hall and grabbed the bags, then came back in and threw the vase in the trash, and the food in the fridge. He reached down to the bottom shelf and grabbed a bottle of wine that had been in there for months. He opened it, grabbed a couple of plastic cups out of the cupboard and went back to the couch.
He sat next to her, filled the cups, and they sat there in silence. He turned the TV on, but never noticed what program was playing. The capacity for speech had abandoned them, yet they comforted each other like only the most intimate of friends can. They had shared their lives for almost twenty years and in this dark hour they leaned on each other’s silent strength more than ever before.
“Harold?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s after midnight, I gotta go to bed.”
“Are you sure? You gonna be okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanna sleep.”
Harold walked her to the door, gave her a hug, and kissed top of her head.
“Love you, Sweetie,” he said.
“Love you too, Harold.”
She left for her apartment, and he went to bed. He was exhausted, but sleep was elusive. So many things kept swirling through his mind – Mr. And Mrs. Stinson, Connie, Mr. Doshi. Mr. Stinson had been like a father to him, and now he was gone. How did Mr. Doshi know about the birthmark? What did he mean about knowing the truth? He heard the front door open and close and Connie appeared in the bedroom doorway, in t-shirt and Pikachu slippers.
“I don’t wanna be alone,” her voice cracked slightly.
“Me too.”
She walked around to the side of the bed and climbed in. Within minutes, they were both sound asleep.
