Robert returned home late that evening. Before he even entered his apartment, he knew his friends had been there, waiting to surprise him for his birthday. Of course they had to have been there. That was just the kind of friends they were.
He opened the door and stepped in, the darkness enveloping him. He flipped on the light and saw the remains of what would have been his party. A pile of presents and cards sat stacked neatly on the dining table. Sitting in the counter, the cake still had the candles stuck in it. From the looks of it, someone had extinguished them just before the became wax puddles on the frosting.
Robert sighed and collapsed into an armchair, smiling to himself at the irony of his situation. Only a short while ago, his friends had been gathered here to celebrate the 35th year of his life while at the same time he had been contemplating the end of 35 years of life. After resting a few moments, his mind blissfully blank, he got up and poured himself a glass of whiskey and stood drinking it, leaning on the liquor cabinet. The memory of the first drink he'd had that evening- five hours earlier- came floating back into his mind...
Kathy wasn't very exciting, but at least she was reliable, Robert thought as he walked through the door of the coffee shop where they were to meet. A very down-to-earth, somewhat naive girl, Kathy had come to the city from a small town in New England, looking for something exciting to do with her life. When they first met, Robert concluded they would be good for each other- he helping her navigate the ways of city life, and in return she would keep him grounded and focused.
But as their relationship progressed, it became a struggle. Kathy had no desire to go out late in the evening and he could only stand quiet evenings together in his apartment for so long before tiring of her innocent chatter. He now realized why their relationship went downhill. They were both too shy to say what was on their minds, and work out a relationship of give and take.
And this evening, Robert hoped it wasn't too late to start. That was why he wanted to talk to Kathy, to tell her he would be willing to give some of himself if she would do the same. They tolerated each other surprisingly well, albeit a little trying on certain occasions, but Robert had come to the realization that, with a bit of work, their relationship could last.
He looked around the cafe; Kathy hadn't yet arrived so he selected a window table in the front corner. His intention was to explain to her the thoughts that had filled his head since they last parted- over a month ago, he realized- and ask if there wasn't some way to resume their relationship, perhaps on a higher level.
The waitress came over to take his order, but Robert asked her to wait until Kathy arrived. After she walked away, he tapped his fingers on the table anxiously. Several long minutes later, Kathy opened the door.
She was a refreshing sight. Her fluffy brown hair rested lightly on her shoulders. She wore a green sweater, buttoned near the top and setting off the white blouse underneath. The pleats in her skirt were crisp, and it was the same gray as her pumps.
What a comforting sight, Robert thought as Kathy spotted him and took a seat in the other chair.
"Hello Robert," she said calmly, smiling at him, "I hope you're been well?"
Oh, how he had missed her smile, that smile which melted away his worries!
He nodded, "Yes, fairly," he lied, not wanting to let on how much he had missed her and the toll it had taken on him mentally.
Before either had a chance to say anything else, the waitress came back. Kathy ordered a green tea and Robert a coffee.
As the waitress left, Kathy spoke again, "I was so glad you wanted to meet. I so wanted to tell you and feared I wasn't going to get the chance."
"What did you want to tell me?" asked Robert, hope rising in him.
The waitress returned, bringing their drinks. Robert swallowed a mouthful of hot coffee as Kathy continued, "You were my first really good friend here in the city, so it only seemed fair you should know that I am leaving. I reconnected with my old boyfriend from home. I've decided the city isn't for me, and he'd said if I ever decided to come back we could try to make another go of it…"
As she spoke, Robert's coffee flowed down his throat, squashing the hope which had been there a moment before.
It took a few big gulps of air and another swallow of coffee before he could speak in a normal tone, "You and Andrew are back together then?"
Kathy nodded and smiled, too enraptured in her happiness to notice Robert's downfallen expression. She continued chattering as she sipped her tea, "Of course I was thrilled when he called me. We only broke up because we decided it would be best if he had a job. And now he's been teaching for the past six months. Teaching! I couldn't believe it, but he's enjoying it. And I so want to get out of the city. You know how it's not for me. Anyways, I can't wait to be back in the country, near the forest…."
Robert only halfway listened as he drank the remainder of his coffee, but as he swallowed, it danced around in his stomach. He felt himself wilting, being crushed by her words. He had so utterly, completely convinced himself of his belief that they could make it work between them that he never expected Kathy to say anything like this.
They finished their drinks and Kathy said, "It's been great to see you again, Robert. Was there anything you wanted to talk about?"
He started and shook his head, "Oh...no. I- I just wanted to see you again."
She smiled, "I should be going. I'll be leaving next week, and there's so much to do before then."
They stood up and Kathy wrapped an arm around Robert, hugging him while he stood with his arms hanging at his sides. She backed away slightly and told him, "Well, this is goodbye, then," squeezed his arm, put some money on the table, and left.
Robert ran his fingers through his hair, paid for his coffee, and also walked out the door.
It was still early evening, and Robert didn't feel like going back to his apartment, knowing what was probably waiting for him. After his meeting with Kathy, the idea of a party made him nauseous.
He wandered the city for a while, going up one street and down another, unaware of where exactly he was heading. After God knows how long, he found himself outside a bar in a part of the city he didn't frequent- didn't frequent but was familiar with. In particular, he was very familiar with this bar.
Robert walked into the dim haze, sat at the counter, and ordered a beer. As he slowly sipped it, a woman sidled up to him and perched herself on the stool to his left. It took him a moment to realize who she was, but even then he kept himself from reacting to her and looking up.
"Hello Bobby," she said in a smooth, low voice as she walked her fingers up his left arm, leaving her hand to rest near the base of his neck.
Robert turned from his beer, keeping his gaze down, looking at her black high heeled boots, which had been recently- and hastily- polished in an attempt to hide the scuffs and wear. Slowly his eyes traveled upwards- over her legs encased in black fishnets to the black miniskirt, up her torso, trying to avoid staring at the cleavage peeking out of her low-cut lavender blouse. The black ribbon around her neck had a large square diamond on it. Fake, probably, too big to be real, Robert thought. He skipped over her face and went to her hair, one chunk of the long, dark curls was held in a ponytail off to the side above her right ear. And then her face- eyes surrounded by heavy, although light colored, makeup, cheeks hollow, and lips ridiculously red.
"Hello, Marta," Robert said, "Buy you a drink?"
Robert had first found himself in this bar when his girlfriend at the time lived in an apartment nearby. Their date one night turned sour and it had been where he found himself after leaving. That was also the night he met Marta. She bought him a drink and consoled him. A nice enough girl, even though she had been somewhat hardened from growing up poor in a bad part of town, which turned her into a tough city girl through and through.
At the end of that night, when he asked Marta if he could see her again, she told him, "Bobby, love, just come back to this bar, and if the city wills it, I'll be here."
So Robert took to visiting the bar on those occasions when he needed some strong drinks and perhaps some company. More often than not, he found Marta- or rather, she found him. Robert never knew quite where she came from, other than the city seemed to spit her out.
It took about five encounters before he learned of Marta's night job. She had a bit more class than the average courtesan but couldn't afford to be too choosey, either. Somehow, Robert wasn't bothered by this. In exchange for idle conversation, all Martha expected in return was for him to pick up the tab on some of her drinks.
An hour later, the pair had gone through several beers and half a dozen shots, and then sat sipping gin and tonics. Robert had left one hand resting on the top of the bar and Marta stroked it.
"So Bobby," she whispered passionately, "What are we going to do next? Now that we're all plastered?" She hiccoughed silently.
Robert sighed and said, slightly slurred, "It's up to you….You decide…."
"Oh let's get outta here, Bobby, love?" Mid stroke, she picked up his hand and dragged him out of the bar.
Robert had a fairly good idea as to where she was taking him. He'd never been to her apartment, but knew she kept one nearby for entertaining male companions.
They walked a couple of blocks, Marta still holding onto Robert's hand. As they turned a corner into a semi-shadowy side street, a man approached out of the darkness under an awning. He was dressed in a cheap suit and wore a hat pulled down over his face. He raised the hat as he drew closer.
"Hey, sweetheart," he said to Marta, "want me to help you lose this guy?" He gave a small nod in Robert's direction.
"Shove off, mister," Marta replied forcefully and she quickened her pace.
The man wasn't going to give up that easily, "Come on, beautiful. Can't you see what a loser he is?" His words slurred slightly together.
Marta stopped and turned around to face him, "See here, Randy. Looks like I'm busy at the moment. So why don't you go find someone else to screw?"
Then she grabbed Robert's arm again and led him to her building- an old brick place that had a larger fraction of the windows boarded up. The other man must have taken Marta's advice because they didn't see him again.
She led Robert inside and to the elevator lobby. She pushed the 'up' button and they stood there waiting in an uncomfortable silence, save for the little noise that came from pipes clanging in the walls. Robert grew infinitely more aware of Marta's hand still on his lower arm.
The reality of what Marta wanted to happen started to sink in. Robert and Marta, alone in her apartment. The approaching intimacy made Robert's stomach squirm. Somehow, the idea of the two of them together in bed didn't appeal to him. If he went through with this, it would change their relationship- a relationship that, until now, he'd been perfectly satisfied with. And although he'd slept with many women, so far a prostitute wasn't one of them. It wasn't that she slept with so many people that bothered him, since, hell, he was the same way. He thought it had something more to do with the fact that men paid her for it.
Robert's mind danced in a jumbled mess as they rode the elevator- a creaky, jolting thing that he didn't entirely trust- to the eighth floor. Once it stopped, he had no earthly inkling of what he was going to do.
The door clattered open and Marta led him out and several meters down a hallway, which had been stained and marked by countless mysterious substances over the years.
They halted outside Marta's door as she dug a key out of her shirt. She unlocked the door and walked inside, turning around to usher Robert in behind her.
But Robert just stood in the hall, staring into the room, illuminated only by city lights coming in through the windows. "Marta, I- I can't. I can't explain, See you around." He didn't wait for her reaction but ran back up the hall, looking for the stairwell, and made it outside at a record-setting speed.
Not entirely sure what he was doing, Robert started walking, quickly walking to put distance between him and that building. He walked for about twenty minutes before he realized how tired he was. His legs were heavy and sweat tickled his neck. Deciding to head towards Times Square, Robert slowed his pace. All he wanted now was to sit someplace, watch other people go about their evenings, and think about their troubles instead of his own.
He'd lived in the city for years, but it still amazed Robert. Finally he stood on one side of Times Square. The chaotic jumble of lights somehow created a colorful harmony. The noise beating into his head- car horns, engines, footsteps, voices- was a melodious roar in his ears. Cars and pedestrians wove through and around each other in a tangled mass, without incident. It was an intricate work of art, too complex for any artist to recreate.
The city enveloped Robert, it's pulse becoming one with his own. He felt himself blending into his surrounding, completing the pattern of cars and people. It would be so easy to merely stand there forever, to forget about the entire evening, and let his mind dissolve into bliss.
Suddenly a blaring horn disrupted his ecstasy and a car braked in front of him. "Oh Robbie," a shrill, sickly sweet voice called out, "Robbie darling, could I give you a lift somewhere?"
Robert opened his eyes, which he just realized he'd closed at some point. He looked around and saw a taxi parked along the curb, the back window was rolled down and a blonde with a bob cut wearing a navy suit jacket and white blouse leaned out. She waved, "Oh Robbie, you're cute. Didn't you hear me calling?"
Robert sighed quietly then pushed a smile onto his face, "Hello, uh..." Robert knew that he knew her, but her name escaped him.
She reached a beckoning finger out of the car and Robert walked several paces forward to stand next to the cab, "It's April, Robbie. April, your little stewardess," she giggled. Her other hand rested on the rolled down window and Robert covered it with one of his own.
"Oh you look awful, Robbie, just awful," she inhaled as she spoke, her voice squeaking slightly.
He replied wearily, "Yeah, I know, April."
She pulled her hand out from under his as she said, "Please, Robbie, come in the car with me?" Then she looked up at him with her wide blue eyes. To make him feel guilty, Robert supposed. He stepped backward, and April opened the door and slid over to give him room. Robert climbed in and shut the door.
"Where to, lady?" the cabbie's strong Brooklyn accent barked.
"Oh why do we have to go anywhere? What if we're already there?" April asked dreamily as she picked up one of Robert's hands in both her own and looked into his eyes again.
"Then I suggest you get a room, lady," the cabbie replied, annoyance creeping into his voice.
Robert said quickly, "Drive to 2nd avenue and east 78th."
The cabbie "harrumphed" and pulled away from the curb.
"Oh Robbie, I'm so glad I found you," April gushed, still staring into his eyes.
April wasn't the brightest girl around, but she was less provocative than Marta and less logical than Kathy. And she was great in bed.
It didn't take long before she and Robert had their hands all over each other. Robert tugged off her jacket and she loosened his collar. His hands made their way under her blouse and ran themselves over her womanly curves. Her hands fondled his face, then neck, and eventually shoulders. Their faces drew nearer. She pulled him in the last few inches. Their tongues met in a warm embrace. April's nose gently brushed Robert's face and sent shivers through his body.
Eventually April's leg made its way over one of Robert's. Her weight on top of him forced him to lean against the window. Robert freed one hand and ran it through her hair, keeping her mouth pressed against his. Their legs entwined, thighs mingling on the seat and feet a pile on the floor.
The two became one, sealed together at the lips, forgetting about everything outside of their being. Robert's mind held thoughts of only April, of her softness and curves within his arms, her hands running over his chest and shoulders, the taste of her mouth in his. The meeting with Kathy, the encounter with Marta, even the taxi, all melted away. Nothing existed except for the two of them, wrapped around each other. Robert was in a blissful heaven, and would have been willing to stay their with April forever, just as they were.
"We're here, unless you'd rather I drove somewhere else?" the cabbie interrupted in a loud bark.
April pushed herself up and off of Robert, and they detangled their bodies. She rebuttoned the top buttons of her blouse and Robert tucked his shirt back into his pants as best he could. He retrieved April's jacket and hat, which had made their way onto the floor.
"Well, Robbie," April giggled, slightly out of breath, "I suppose you're leaving now?
Robert looked out the taxi windows. The intersection he'd purposely given to the cabbie was only a few blocks from his apartment. Then he looked back at April as he uttered one word, "Yes."
April held his hand, "I'm going to miss you, Robbie."
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Barcelona."
"Oh….Have a good flight." Then he gave her some money to cover the cab fare and got out.
"Goodbye, Robbie," he heard April say as he shut the door. Then he stood watching as the cab drove out of sight before he began walking.
At this point, Robert couldn't think of anything else to do besides go back to his apartment building. In the same evening, he'd lost one girl, ran out on another, and mindlessly made out with a third. God, he thought as he let out a sigh, what the hell am I doing?
Suddenly the city felt constricting. The beauteous harmony he'd felt not even an hour earlier was completely gone. The dark, shadowed streets closed in around him, as if making a horrible joke at his expense. Robert felt like various forces around him were conspiring to keep him alone and miserable forever.
He wanted some air, so upon reaching the building, Robert didn't go to his apartment but rather took the elevator to the top floor. Then he went through a door and up a flight of stairs labeled "Roof Access". When he emerged on the top, Robert le the door slam behind him as he stood, eyes closed, breathing in the night air.
After a few moments, he opened his eyes, walked over to the edge of the roof, and gazed down at the city spread out beneath him. At this height, Robert could just make out cars and people on the surrounding streets. They were all so small, so distant from himself. He was overwhelmed with a feeling that he was all too familiar with. It was a feeling of isolation, of loneliness, of despair, that he was destined to be forever an outsider somehow looking in. Even in the intimacies of relationships he never seems like he belonged there. Nothing ever felt right, either with his friends, or with girls, or sometimes in the city…It didn't feel like he was supposed to be there.
Of course, if he indeed wasn't supposed to be there, there was a simple solution. Robert put one foot on the ledge that ran around the rooftop. Finding his balance, he brought up the other foot. He closed his eyes and threw his head back for a moment. Then, opening his eyes, he looked down.
Leaving the building were his friends. Even from this distance, the group of ten was easily distinguishable. There were Joanne and Larry, Amy and Paul, Peter and Susan, David and Jenny, Sarah and Harry. They must have given up waiting, Robert thought.
Just a couple more steps and he could join them below. His miserable loneliness would be over. He wouldn't have to struggle alone, through relationships that didn't work, and an unsatisfying life.
He watched the couples as they parted, each pair going their separate way and back to their lives. Joanne and Larry got into their waiting limousine, heading happily home, for as long as Joanne decided to stay married to him, at least. Amy and Paul set off walking up the street and back to maneuvering through their life as newlyweds. Peter and Susan walked in the opposite direction to their apartment where they resided as a divorced couple. A pair of taxies presently came along. Sarah and Harry took one of them, where they would probably fill the cabbie's ear with arguments over dieting and excessive drinking. The other cab was taken by David and Jenny, returning them to their life of raising children while refraining from some of their more adventurous interests.
At last, they all disappeared off into the darkness, and Robert became even more alone. Then, as he stood there, a string of thoughts entered his mind, as if the wind was whispering them in his ear. The shock of them led Robert to jump backwards off the ledge and back to the safety of the rooftop.
As the tangle in his mind began to sort itself out, Robert realized that, if he wanted to be happy and satisfied in this world, he first had to think like an adult. To a child, the world is split into black and white, right and wrong, happy and sad, in love or alone. There is no middle ground, no compromises. But in reality, life didn't work in dichotomies.
To find whatever it was he searched for, Robert had to stop trying to find perfection. Instead, he needed to find enough good and love and companionship to help him through the negative.
And he hadn't found that yet, not in Kathy, or Marta, or April. But out there, someone was waiting for him. It would just be a matter of time. After all, his friends had all found their good, and none of their relationships were perfect.
When he finally stopped looking for perfection, Robert now knew, was when he would find what he'd been searching for. What he needed was someone to go through life with, helping each other, guiding each other, and just being for each other.
His head filled with these thoughts, Robert gave the city one last look before descending the stairs and taking the elevator to his floor. Facing the door, he dug out his key and let himself in. As he stepped in, the darkness enveloped him. He flipped on the light and saw the remains of his party.
Robert sighed, collapsed in an armchair, and smiled.