Just Outside My Window

by Reinbeauchaser

First in a series. Life can be strange sometimes, just ask Mindy Johnson, divorcee extraordinaire of wit and sarcasm. Just outside her apartment window waits an adventure with four new friends. Will each help the other find what they want most?

1. Encounter!

Chapter 1 - Encounter

"What a night!" I lamented as I stared out of my apartment window.  I sighed as I looked at the evening sky, its white-gray clouds promising another layer of snow for the next day.  It gave me one more reason to be anxious for spring when I could air out my apartment. Having to keep my one and only window closed all winter long made me feel like a prisoner in my own home. With it being late January, I still had at least another two months to go before I could even consider opening it. A fresh blanket of snow covered the ground from the night before, making the temperature outside close to freezing. I really didn't mind the stuff all that much except for when I had to go out in it. The fact that I had to walk to work everyday pretty much limited my appreciation of such splendor.

"Good grief, I hate winter." I continued to rant.

Despite living in the slums, I had to admit to myself that the snow really did make everything quite beautiful. I guess it was that part I didn't mind. Yet, between the extreme cold and the stuffiness of my apartment, I was anxious for sunshine and warmer days.

As I stared out the window, I gazed down to the alley below. That was my view, an ugly alley. It was usually littered with garbage, used needles or what- have-you the human element of this neighborhood thought to discard there. Fortunately, the snow covered most of the eyesore and added a bit of beauty at the same time. Needless to say, it was an oxymoron at best considering what lie beneath.

Sadly, most of the neighborhood was like that in one way or another. Summertime revealed the depth of man's depravity, but winter graciously covered it up with a kind of surreal beauty. It was the most any could hope for considering the poverty level.  Everyone who lived here in the slums scratched out living the best way they could, barely able to afford the apartments they lived in. Most were probably destined to die in this place, anyway, with their children facing a similar future. A few made it out, of course, but their numbers were meager when compared to those left behind - and most of them were on welfare as it was.

Considering where I lived, the meager income I made waiting tables at the diner barely paid for my place. It was quite frustrating to work those long hours only to barely afford the rent on my small one room living quarters. What money I had left I spent on bills and groceries. I did own a van, but I couldn't afford to drive it.  Yet, I refused to sell it, since I didn't have plans on being a waitress forever. Therefore, I kept it in a rented garage down the street for that moment in time when I could move on with my life. Not knowing what the future would hold for me, I was determined by hook or by crook to keep what I could. Consequently, I had very little cash left over after my bills were paid.

As I thought about my apartment, and how I would best describe it, small was a word that came to mind.  It's not that I wanted anything larger, mind you, but I was too tired after working double shifts at the diner to care much for doing housework. Having only the one room to worry about, besides the bathroom, simplified my life quite a bit.

At my age, I downsized as much of my life as was possible!  I just loved simplicity!

However, if I were to give a grand tour of my place, you would find my kitchen at one end near the front door and then my 'bedroom', as it were, at the opposite end. I had a small bathroom and then a closet - which barely contained what clothing I owned. Whatever else I managed to call mine, I kept in that small garage down the street that housed my van.

As far as my kitchen was concerned, it included a short single counter with a double sink and a garbage disposal. That sink actually seemed too generous for what everything else afforded me, nearly dwarfing the short counter that came with it.  It appeared too opulent by comparison! Still, I wasn't going to complain! When blessed unexpectedly, one takes what is given. At least that was what my grandmother used to tell me!

Anyway, my rent also included three cupboards for storage along with what was probably the smallest refrigerator in history. Additionally the apartment came with a stove that worked on occasion, which was more often than not, I guess. Again, the unasked for blessing that I tried to appreciate. Well, at least when the stove worked, I did!

As for furniture, I had an adequate two-seater table, my loveseat that sat in the middle of the room, one dresser along the wall opposite from my lone window, and then my beloved bed.

That bed was the nicest piece of furniture in the apartment and probably in the entire brownstone complex – if not all of New York City! It was a remnant of my life before hard times hit. Blame my ex-husband with his need for someone younger and more beautiful, because in no time flat, I was soon on the road to single living. As it ended up, I had to wheel and deal to keep that bed despite Jack's infidelity and lies. When the dust finally cleared, he still ended up with just about everything else - except that bed.

Just getting the bed after the divorce settled made it all worthwhile, too. There wasn't any way he was going to end up with it, not if I had anything to say about it. My parents had given us that bed fifteen years before when Jack and I had first married. It was a beautiful brass work of art with lovely porcelain rose turns on all four ends. The queen size headboard scrolled up and over, forming a heart in the middle. My mom and dad had it made special just for Jack and me since I was their only daughter. Heck, I was their only child, for that matter. The bed was a romantic gesture from my parents that was to symbolize Jack's and my love. It was a love that was supposed to last forever, but didn't.

As the years went by and as fate and ego would have it, Jack found someone else, not that there wasn't a valid reason for him to 'look elsewhere' mind you. I'm not justifying the fact that he broke our marriage vows, no, not at all in fact. However, when a parent loses a child to a hideous and merciless disease, it can certainly change many things regarding the heart and commitment. My heart broke and so did Jacks' commitment. Maybe he couldn't take the stress of what was happening to our beautiful daughter. I don't really know for sure, but I did know that I was a wreck most of the time during that ordeal. Consequently, he wasn't getting much comfort from me. I'll take responsibility for that, no questions about it.

However, though I don't blame Jack for feeling neglected, I still think he could have tried harder just the same.  Now, here I was living in the heart of slum-ville in New York City with barely a penny to my name. Humph, some life I had!

Shaking my head at the memories I was dredging up, I dispelled of the 'woe is me' attitude. I knew better than to think about 'what could have been' or 'what wasn't'. It never did do me a bit of good doing that anyway. I always ended up with insomnia and I truly couldn't afford that right now, not with having to be at work by five the next morning. Moreover, I was frustrated that my electricity was out once again. My current attitude coupled with thinking about past frustrations would only lead to a headache. However, before seeing to my next task of yelling at the apartment manager, I took one last look out my window.

Normally I wouldn't have been able to see much down in the alley because it was always so dark there. The street light had gone out over a year ago and the city never thought to fix it. My part of town didn't complain too often about such things since the majority of those who frequented alleys preferred them dark, as it was. However, with the freshly fallen snow reflecting the light of the full moon, the area was easily discernable. With every other apartment in the dark due to the circuit breaker blowing out once again, outside looked almost as bright as day. Well, not quite, but enough to where I could appreciate the night from my vantage point!

Anyway, my plan that evening after I finished looking at the view a little more was to head over to the superintendent's office. I had every intention to complain to him – again - about the lack of electricity. Sadly, it was becoming a regular event, happening at least once a week without fail. I was getting plenty tired of it, too and I was sure everyone else in my place was as well.

However, before I stepped away from the window, a movement down in the alley caught my attention. The snow began to move in one spot! It was almost as if something underneath was trying to push its way up.

"That's … weird," I thought to myself, "Did some homeless bum fall asleep down there? Sheesh, I'm surprised he's still alive!" I continued to watch as the snow seemed to move faster and faster.

With winter in full swing, the average temperatures outside kept the snow quite healthy. Which meant that anything left outside alive would soon not be.  Yet, as the snow continued to move, I realized soon enough that in actuality it was falling off of something. When the snow completely fell away, it revealed the top of a manhole cover. Yet what emerged from under that cover and up out of the sewer nearly took my breath away.  As it stood up, I pulled back just enough so if it chanced to look around, the creature below wouldn't easily see me. I watched him with complete fascination. He turned in a tight circle, looked over the alleyway, and then suddenly up towards my direction. I pulled back quickly, counting on the shadow of the building next to mine to conceal my presence. I waited a moment and then cautiously moved over to the glass windowpane again, looking back down at the creature. He was now preoccupied with another task. I saw that he was now helping someone else up from that same hole he had just come out.

My eyes nearly bugged out; it was another one just like him. I was amazed and nearly speechless – which was a miracle in and of itself. I was very rarely ever speechless; believe me!

Yet, how would I describe them? From my vantage point three stories up, I would say that they stood just about my height; maybe five foot four. I'm almost afraid to mention what they looked like for fear of someone thinking I'd completely lost it. Nevertheless, for the record, they looked like – well - they looked like turtles, the shell on their back being the obvious clue.

I was flabbergasted – completely floored.

As I continued to observer them, I noticed that they wore bandannas that went completely around their head. The material concealed the top half of their faces except for what I assumed to be eyeholes. The bandannas worked much like a mask in that way! Still I couldn't figure out for the life of me why they would need them. It's wasn't as if they could hide the fact that they were turtles. To be honest, I thought it all quite funny. Interestingly enough, however, each turtle seemed to have a different colored mask. The first one had on a red bandanna while the second one's mask looked more orange in color.

Then I saw that both had some sort of covering on their feet, probably to help keep them warm. If I remembered my biology correctly, reptiles didn't do very well in cold weather. Yet to see these turtles with any kind of clothing or footwear just didn't seem right. Of course, they were bipedal, so it only added to their overall strangeness.

"What are they?" I asked myself. "Maybe they're people in costumes?" I theorized. Yet, if that were true then these costumes were the best I'd ever seen! "But, why did they come out of the sewer, though?" I wondered.  The thought that they might be thieves or gang members crossed my mind, but the last time I checked, hoodlums didn't wear reptilian costumes to get around -unless this was a whole new group?  I had to smile at the difficulty they would have recruiting members to join their little 'fraternity'.  "Oh, Dude, ya haft'a wear this here turtle suit if yer gonna be part of our home boy club!"  Yeah, right! 

Yet, as I studied them more intently, I saw that both wore belts around their middles with protector-like pads on their elbows and knees. Those pads reminded me of what the kids in my neighborhood wore whenever they would ride their skateboards. However, what these strange beings had on looked a little different, as if the protector pads were made from leather. Why would they do that, anyway? It only added more mystery to the question of who and what they were.

I then noticed that Mr. Red-mask had two fork-like items sheathed into his waistband in some fashion, one at the side of each hip. They looked vaguely familiar, but for the moment, I just couldn't place where I had seen them before.

Mr. Orange-mask, however, had what I would describe as two sets of sticks, each connected together with a chain. I could see one pair clipped to one side of his belt with the second pair secured on the opposite side.

It was hard to tell what these tools were from my vantage point, yet if I were to wager a guess, I would say that both turtles were carrying martial art weapons.  Amazing I would even know that bit of trivia.

Actually, I can credit my ex husband for that bit of knowledge.  When Jack and I were still together, he was into self-defense. He had started to dabble with it just before we met but then, after moving to Chicago, he became obsessed.  Therefore, I figured if it kept him happy, why should I complain.  He was actually quite good at it, from what I would observe.  Brandi and I used to visit him at his training studio now and then just out of curiosity. It was my way to show our support. Our daughter loved to watch her daddy do his act; clapping enthusiastically whenever he would do some big leap or manage to 'mat' his opponent. Brandi was his biggest supporter that was certain!

While he was yelling and leaping and doing whatever it was he did and while Brandi would watch, I took in the equipment displays that were there. The cabinets had various 'tools of the trade', as Jack enjoyed calling them. I thought they were all quite hideous, to be honest.

Point to a star-shaped item, "Why in the world would you use this?" I'd ask him when he would join up with me. The thing looked quite wicked all the way around and not something I would want to tangle with, that was certain.

Jack would get quiet and mumble something about it being just for looks. He'd go on about it wasn't for public use and I really shouldn't be asking so many questions - yada, yada, yada. He acted as if he was part of this secret club or what-have-you. I was mildly amused, to be honest.

Yet, being ever the pacifist I was never impressed with the obvious violence of what he practiced. I thought it all quite unnecessary. However, Jack's aggressive personality allowed him to relish every kick and jab that he executed. I guess it was good for him and he was quite proficient at it, all things considered. When he finally earned his fifth degree black belt, I'd have to say that for a short time Jack was somewhat hard to live with. Not that he ever hit me, but his arrogance just went off the charts like nothing else. Personally, I thought it all rather superfluous, myself. What good did it do other than to make his head so big that he eventually thought he deserved something better than being with me?

Okay, well let's not go down that road twice in one night.  I really need to stop thinking about that man, I really do.

Anyway, as I watched the creatures below I tried to keep from being seen since it looked obvious to me that they didn't want to be. The careful way that they hugged the shadows was a clear testament to this fact. Fortunately, where the first story windows would have normally been on an ordinary brownstone, with mine it was windowless.   At that location and level was the laundry area and basement of my complex, a solid brick wall that was windowless.  Unless someone like myself in that same moment was looking out from the second story on up, my 'friends' would be able to work completely unnoticed.

After a while I saw them go more into the alley to sweep away some of the snow. They must have been convinced that it was safe to do so since they didn't look around nearly as much as before. From where I was observing, though, I had a perfect view of them. I was fascinated and delightfully distracted. It was probably the best entertainment I'd had in quite a while, in fact!  A sad commentary to my exciting life. 

As I watched, I couldn't figure out what it was that they were looking for until one of them picked up a tin can. It was Mr. Orange-mask and he was very excited with his find. He seemed to flash a smile and then he whipped out a plastic bag with a flourish, quickly tossing the can into it. Then he resumed his hunt once again. I thought his smile quite interesting and somewhat odd on such a face as his.  Still, I had to admit that it was cute!

Imagine that.

The other did the same with a similar find, but he'd swagger around more than his friend would, almost as if he had a chip on his shoulder. Both of them gently tossed the cans they found into their bags, thereby minimizing the noise as much as possible. I couldn't blame them for that. Considering what they looked like I was sure very few people would understand them. The less noise these creatures made, the less chance of people - like me - looking out their window.

I considered myself quite lucky right about then!

Occasionally they'd find a glass bottle and I could tell they were quite happy about it. It seemed to increase their busyness through the alleyway, in fact. I never saw reptiles work so quickly. Then, again, I'd never seen any travel around on two legs before, either, with masks on and carrying weapons, no less. It seemed more surreal than my own life for the moment. A pleasant change, all the way around if I do say so myself!

Then a thought occurred to me about what they were doing and why. It didn't sink in until I saw them pick up that glass bottle. Glass always paid back more than tin cans did. That's when it finally dawned on me. They were scavenging for recyclables.  Well, duh! Again, going back to what they looked like I doubted very much they could hold down a regular job. I can just see these reptiles waiting tables at Angelo's Diner! I don't think Crazy Bill would ever have a problem getting enough business with these guys taking orders. In fact, I think all of New York would beat a path to Bill's restaurant if only to take a gander at his reptile waiters! I kind of had to laugh a little to myself just thinking about it. I'm sure every talk show host in the nation would be clamoring for their attention, too. That is if the zoos and labs didn't get to them first!

Yet, thinking about how they were scavenging for aluminum and glass made it painfully clear that their food source was dependent upon the nickels and dimes they would get on their return. I kind of wondered how they did that, too. Maybe they had a human friend somewhere who helped them out.

Either way, I thought winter must be very hard on these creatures. It kind of made me sad just to think about it, too.  Maybe I could toss a few of the cans I'd been saving into the alley tomorrow just to help their cause, so to speak.  Then again, maybe I would only end up scaring them away.  It's not as if aluminum grows down there.  Just about everyone in my building, if not the neighborhood, scavenges for such things as it is. 

My next consideration was, of course, how'd they get to be so big? New York City was famous for having the alleged alligator in their sewers and I'm sure a turtle or two had washed into it now and then. Yet, I don't think these terrapins roaming my alleyway were your average run of the mill turtles. No, not at all, that was certain. In fact, it was about then that a trickle of fear crept up my spine. If the sewers of New York could do this to turtles, I don't even want to think about alligators!

Ignorance may be bliss, but I do believe that from now on I'm going to skirt carefully around any and all storm drains!

As the minutes ticked by, I found I was getting quite brave about watching them.  I didn't worry about them seeing me since my focus was so keen on following their progress through the alleyway.  At one point, I even caught Mr. Red-mask moving his mouth at his buddy as if he were talking. That piqued my curiosity quite a bit right there! They were at an angle where I could see both their faces.  However, right after Mr. Red-mask talked, I could see Mr. Orange- mask reply back to him.

If my eyes bugged out earlier, they were really bugging out now!  Please, someone tell me I just didn't see these turtles converse. Turtles do not talk. They may grunt, they may hiss, but – talk, carry on a conversation? I don't think so. However, from my vantage point that was exactly what it looked like they were doing. I shook my head in amazement. I couldn't tell if they were speaking a language or grunting, but – overall - if what I had been seeing over the past fifteen minutes was real, I was sure the science community would just love to get their hands on them. What price would they pay me for making such a fantastic discovery? If I could convince someone from the Bronx Zoo, for example, to come out just to investigate my find, maybe with their help we could capture one of these creatures. Considering my meager surroundings and bank account, any price would be a welcomed relief. Hey, maybe I could even name the species. Now that would be a feather in my cap, you can be sure!

Yet the more I watched Mr. Red and Mr. Orange move along the alley and pick through the snow, I realized then that, like me, they were just trying to eek out a living. In my heart, I knew I just couldn't do it.  Thinking about their conversation, what if they did in deed have speech? Would that make them – sentient? Good golly, no way could I just hand them over to scientists. Knowing my own species the way that I did, these creatures would be fodder for just about every experiment under the sun if only to find out what made them tick.

Still, the question as to how they came to look like this challenged my common sense! I watched them, mentally noting that they walked on two feet instead of four and moving rather un-turtle-like around the alley. By that observance alone, I knew that something incredible had made them the way that they were. Just watching them as they went about harvesting the discarded aluminum cans, tossing said cans into bags, and then talking to each other as human would all indicated intelligence. The fact that they were able to communicate with each other only confirmed that fact to me.  Even the smartest gorilla couldn't do what these guys were doing.

As I was thinking about all of this and mulling over what I was witnessing, the lights in the apartment complex suddenly came back on.  I was so into watching the spectacle below that I had forgotten all about not letting them see me.  I immediately saw my two friends down below slam themselves up against the building. They looked around furtively. It was as if they were afraid that any minute someone would poke their head out from a window and start to scream.

Then, they looked up – and saw me! I froze. What should I do now?

Well, I decided to keep calm and smile; waving a little to dispel any notion of fear that I was currently feeling. I then unintentionally locked eyes with one of them. My eyes went wide – as did his!

Mr. Red returned my gaze, furrowing his eye ridge quickly in concern and moving his mouth as if he was swearing.

Great, a profaning turtle – on two feet, no less and with weapons! Not a good combination at all

He turned to his buddy as if to get his attention and that's when I decided the show was over. I doubted very much they wanted people to see them. This caused me to wonder what they would do to those who did. The weapons they wore might have been defensive, but they could also be offensive. Wonderful! Now I had to worry about them coming after me. However, I was on the third level and relatively safe from any attack they might try to make from the alley. Therefore, I didn't worry too much about it.

Yet, if they were as smart as I assumed, they could try the front entrance to the apartment building to get at me. I quickly went to my apartment door - thankful that it was the only one I had - and double-checked the locks. Gratefully I found that all five of them in place. I breathed a happy sigh of relief and relaxed just a little. I felt relatively safe for the moment.

However, as I turned around, I nearly wet my pants.

Because you see, just outside my window and staring at me for all he was worth was Mr. Orange – three stories up and without a fire escape to stand on!

How in blazes did he get up there?