Ray poked his head around the corner and watched Neela. He figured she wouldn't be happy if she knew he was spying on her . . . Hell, he knew she wouldn't be happy. But it probably wouldn't matter very much. Neela was already unhappy.
He had noticed it a few days before. He noticed that her gaze had been lost somewhere, her thoughts hidden by the wistful look on her face. He tried to read her, he honestly, truly tried, but he found it increasingly difficult as the days went by. Neela was depressed, and Ray could not for the life of him figure out why. What was it that bothered her? Whatever the issue, he knew he had to do something to cheer her up.
"Neela?" He cautiously made his way over to the couch where she sat. He kneeled down on the floor and propped his chin on the arm of the couch, arms resting on either side of his head. Neela glanced over at him. Ray grinned. Neela rolled her eyes.
"Not now, Ray," she said. "Now is not the time for 'look at my pretty teeth, Neela'." Ray's smile dropped quickly into a frown. Attempt one was a failure. Time to step it up a bit.
"Knock, knock," he said, his face breaking into another grin. Neela glared at him.
"Nobody's home, go away," she growled. Ray would not let himself get discouraged. He continued his joke.
"Doris," he chuckled. He stared at Neela, who stared right back. "I'm gonna keep staring until you ask 'Doris who?', you know." Neela threw her hands in the air.
"For Christ's sake, Ray! Fine, Doris who?" she asked bitterly.
"Doris locked, let me in," crooned Ray. Neela groaned and covered her face with her hands.
"That," she said through her fingers, "is the worst bloody joke I have ever heard. Do not, under any circumstance, repeat that joke." Ray crossed his arms. His eyes darted around the room, searching for a prop. He picked up a flashlight from a table.
"Hey, remember when the power went out?" he asked, holding up the flashlight. "You hit me in the nose with this, remember?" Neela nodded.
"I remember," she said. "You ran in the bathroom like a bloody baby."
"Yeah, well, it hit me pretty hard," Ray protested. "It was like . . . " He faked smashing himself in the nose with it. "Klonk!" he yelled. "No, wait. It was more like . . . Klunk!" Neela was seemingly unimpressed with the re-enactment.
"You should have a show on Nickelodeon," she muttered. Ray dropped the flashlight.
"Hey, do you like impressions?" he asked. Neela crossed her arms.
"That depends. Who can you do?" she asked dryly. Ray straightened up.
"You'll see. Watch." He grabbed a nearby umbrella and used it for a crutch. "Get back to work, you lazy morons!" he shouted in a nasal voice. Neela covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
"You're awful," she snorted. "Goddamn, that's horrible." Ray chuckled.
"I got a million of 'em," he boasted. He looked at his watch. "But not now. I have a shift that started . . . Ten minutes ago. Great." He waved his 'crutch' in the air. "Guess I'll have to deal with the Weavanator's bitching and whining."
"Good luck," Neela said.
"Although," said Ray, setting the umbrella down, "I do have a quick knock-knock joke." Neela groaned.
"Not the Doris one, I hope." Ray shook his head.
"Knock, knock," he said.
"Who's there?"
"Olive."
"You know, Olive and Doris are both girl names." Ray rolled his eyes.
"Whatever! Just continue the joke," he said impatiently.
"Fine. Olive who?"
"Olive you." Ray grinned. "Get it? Like, 'I love you', except, Olive-"
"Yeah, I get it," Neela cut him off. "Go to work, Ray. You don't want to be late." Ray nodded in agreement.
"Right, yeah." He grabbed his coat and headed out the door. "See ya."
"Ray!" Neela yelled after him. He spun around and stuck his head back in the apartment.
"What?" he asked. Neela smiled at him.
"Olive you, too."