09-28-14 - Important Update
Currently changing the title: "I'm in Love with a Murderer" to "The Revelations of an Innocent Mind". Hope there will be no confusions. Thanks!
The Revelations of an Innocent Mind
CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT FACES OF HUMANITY
A cab directly behind us buzzed loudly, making the taxi driver of my hired cab jolt as he stepped on the gas, shooting us forward to the convoluted traffic. I registered briefly the green traffic light counting to four.
Hello New York.
Being used to normal human population of Forks, I couldn't stop craning my head to watch the throngs of people walking by the sidewalk. People of all walks of life, boldly showcasing their distinctiveness with the way they walk, and dress, and move… Forks people seemed to be just one boring person in comparison. And the buildings, all tall and intimidating, looked like they wanted to stand out from each other, each one seeming to gaze down at the hassle and bustle at their feet. I could also count more hotdog stands than I could the number of Forks' business franchises. I guess New Yorkers just love hotdogs.
Seeing all these, I wondered why the world got itself into a big hurry whilst I'm not looking. And now I need to catch up with it.
After about thirty minutes of traffic and travel, my hired cab finally skidded to a stop in front of tall rows of a dingy apartment building.
"That would be one-twenty, miss."
"O-one twenty?"
"This is an airport taxi, miss. I already gave it to you cheap."
I dug inside my shoulder bag for my purse and reluctantly pulled out one hundred and twenty bucks to hand to the driver. I suddenly wished I was still wearing my habit so I would be treated right, feeling that I was somehow taken advantage of.
As I got out, I immediately chastised my thoughts and asked God a quick prayer of forgiveness. But still, I'm now short of one-twenty which, back at the orphanage, could have helped the children buy more clothes than they usually can spend. Sighing, I took out my luggage of meager belongings from the cab's trunk to cart inside the building.
After I knocked at the door, a tall and petite old lady opened it for me. Though probably at age seventy, the landlady still looked quite strong.
"Bella Swan?" Her mouth seemed set for a permanent scowl with her all-glaring eyes.
I tried to smile as I answered. "Yes. You must be Mrs. Cope."
"Miss Cope," she sneered. "Follow me."
I scanned the small receiving area situated not too far from the elevator doors. The place looked old but well-kept. It doesn't scream anything modern, different from all that I've seen from the city thus far, and for that I was thankful. I feel like the place wouldn't alienate me much from where I stay at Forks.
"Even though I'm your landlady, you can't always come to me for help when you want to. I can't fix your sink if it gets clogged with the junk you throw in it." She pressed the button on the elevator and didn't break her speech even when we got inside. "I can't find a stupid plumber to help you flash that God-damned toilet of yours." I cringed from her loose use of the Lord's name. She didn't even notice my reaction as she punched the seventh floor – the highest floor for the building. "If you want fancy things, move out of my building at once because I give it to you cheap as it is. You can find a lot of fancy things in New York but not a one thousand five hundred bucks fancy apartment. And if you miss even a day of rent, I'll kick you out before you could even say 'extension'. Any questions?"
She glared at me and I got the feeling her question was rhetorical. I shook my head.
"Good. I live down below and I collect your rent every fifteenth of the month. Here's your key."
She handed me my key right after we stepped out from the elevator to the seventh floor.
"You're at room 7C, down the hall." She pointed at the rightmost room.
"Thank you Miss Cope. May God Bless you."
She cleared her throat, unease with well-wishers.
"Yeah. Well, that's it."
As she came back to the elevator, I smiled at her. Her mouth frowned more and she seemed unable to look me in the eyes.
After the elevator doors closed between us, I went to pull my luggage and walk towards my room. As I entered the key to the doorknob, I noticed in my peripheral vision my neighbor on 7C about to enter his room as well. I turned to my left to greet him but just as fast, he was gone. I wondered if I was only seeing things. After all, I heard no noise.
I shrugged and finally clicked the doorknob open.
The next day, I settled to tour New York by foot. I went to see the infamous Statue of Liberty, marveled at the tall and pristine Empire State building, the nearby park, and passed by the stalls of different businesses, most of them selling clothes. It was one of the things we couldn't indulge at the church – the beautiful clothes. And so I was curious to know how I would look like in one.
I went inside one shop and was frowned upon by the sales lady.
"Is there anything I can help you, miss?"
"Yes. I was just wondering how much these dresses usually cost." I gestured to the beautifully displayed furs and coats and laces. I especially was fond of the pure white dress.
"Nothing you can afford." One of her brows rose.
"Oh, uhm, I see…" I was so embarrassed that I was sure my face was all shades of red.
"How much is the dress?"
I jumped at the person who spoke beside me. I turned to see a man about two or three years older than me. He wears a fancy-looking button-down shirt, and even fancier coat. His black shoes were polished to the tip.
"Oh, uhm, sir, I didn't know she was with you. It's for hundred thousand dollars."
Not believing my ears about the price, I whipped my head to said dress, trying to understand what made it so expensive. However, the stranger beside me only smiled and pulled out his wallet, showing the sales lady a card.
"See this?"
"A black card sir."
"Yes. And you know what that means?"
"Most definitely, sir. It means no credit limit."
"Yes, well, since I heard you spoke so harshly to my girlfriend here, I think you just lost a valued customer. Have a good day."
He placed an arm around me, smiled to the shocked sales lady, and heralded me towards the exit. I glanced at the sales lady to see her flushing hard.
Once outside, he removed his embrace of me.
"Thank you sir. That was really kind of you to do, but you don't need to embarrass her like that. She was right, after all. I really can't afford the dress." I couldn't even begin to imagine how guilty I'd feel wearing a hundred thousand dollar dress while a lot from the Third World country suffers from famine, much less find a hundred thousand dollars. In my short stay, my opinion of New York already gears towards all things overpriced.
"Still, that doesn't entitle her to be bitchy towards you. I assume you're new here?"
"Yes. I'm from Forks, originally."
"What place?" He doesn't seem to register the place.
"Forks. Washington. I was…" I was about to say a novice nun, but remembering that I should keep my real status as secret while I'm here, I immediately deterred my words. "I was only looking at new clothes."
He clicked his tongue twice. "You have to be more careful around here. There are a lot of people who will deceive you if you aren't, and more people who would do you harm. The city life is very different, especially here in New York."
"I noticed."
He briefly looked at his wrist watch. "Well, I have to get going. I have a meeting in less than half an hour."
I smiled at his kindness. "Thank you, Mister…?"
"Jacob Black. You are?"
"Bella. Bella Swan."
He pulled out something from his coat pocket and this time, it looked like a different kind of card. "Well, Bella-Bella Swan, here's my card if you need any help touring the city. This here," he pointed at the upper number, "is my office number, but below, and what the others usually ignore, is my private number. Just call this second here, alright?"
He handed his card to me as I said my "thanks."
"Now, you're welcome. I'll see you – or hear from you – soon."
He flashed me a bright smile with his all white, perfect teeth.
"Yes. Bye."
He nodded infinitesimally before walking a few steps towards his waiting car. His driver opened his door for him, and then went inside the driver's seat to maneuver the car.
Once gone, I looked down at his card at my hands to read:
Mr. Jacob Black
CEO – Black Enterprises, Inc.
In my three weeks stay, I still couldn't claim that I know New York. Everything is baffling; a lot of things are simple but complicated. I once went to a public ladies room and felt all sorts of stupid when I jumped at the automatic flush. I felt even dumber when I couldn't wash my hands on the faucet, and then another woman went to the next faucet and simply placed her hands below it, and then the water gushed out. Even the trash bin's mouth automatically opens.
It's like the machines try to cater to the people's fast pace.
The only consolation I have from feeling out of place is my discovery of a small church not too far from my apartment's location. I already met with the kind priest, father Banner. Thus far, he, and only the man I briefly met on my second day, Mr. Black, seemed to wear the kind expressions on their faces. Father Banner welcomed me to his church, delighted to learn that I am a novice nun out on a mission. He wished me well on my journey, and I was glad that I could do my confessions at St. John's cathedral every week. There is always something sacred and uplifting in having to bare my confession weekly, and having a church nearby to pray when I needed to. Just being inside Cathedrals makes me feel that I'm closer to God than anywhere else.
After almost a month in my stay in New York, I got a call from Mother Superior, telling me to proceed with my mission. There are a lot of spiritual needs for people from prison and a priest conducts ceremonies and bible studies during Sundays. But since most of the prisoners in the station I will be assigned to have life sentence crimes, they need things to do during their stay. And so, I am to see, together with the proclaimed nuns, voluntary works where these prisoners would help in the community. Not that I am to truly head the programs – since that responsibility is bigger than what I am capable of yet – but I will assist Mother Elizabeth, and her congregation, with everything she needs me of. These activities, from planning to the last detail, would consume my Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.
To help pay my rent and bills, I asked Mother Superior to give me permission to work during Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays, since I am free those days. Though she didn't approve at first – saying I have no need to do so since all my expenses are to be paid by the church – I explained to her that the money for my expenses should instead be given to our church, impressing to her the scarcity of our funds in running our orphanage. Seeing my point, she reluctantly agreed but told me the church will still give at least half of what I should originally receive each month. I didn't have any other choice but to agree, secretly planning to save the money so that when I return, they would still be given to our church. I asked God a simple prayer of forgiveness for my white lie. It didn't make me feel guilty that much since I know my intensions are good.
The next day, I applied as a crew at a café called Starbucks. Since they need immediate hiring, they accepted me right away, and even made do for my three-days-a-week work. I thanked God for giving me so much blessing, and planned to give as offertory whatever will remain of my first earning to St. John's on Sunday.
To prepare myself for my hectic schedule for the next days, I cleaned my apartment thoroughly, polishing and sweeping all the dirt that I could. Next, I did my laundry, not knowing when I'd be able to do it again. Finally, I made myself a week's worth of food to bring to work so that I wouldn't have to buy outside and spend unnecessarily. It was with great joy when I finally was able to take a bath at almost eight in the evening to relax my tired muscles. And since my apartment is cheap, as quoted by the landlady, and have all the dysfunction, I have had to boil tap water in the kettle to mix with my small bath tub because my water heater runs out during the evening. Not to mention the sink or the creaking bed… But still, I thanked God that I have a roof on my head while the other children have had to endure the cold air at night.
I was about to pray before eating my meal when I heard my neighbor's door opening. Since the first day that I thought I saw him outside my apartment, I've never once met him, much less hear any noise from the next door. I've always thought that what I saw that day was just a product of my imagination.
Planning to invite him over for supper, I went out of my apartment to walk towards his door. The two other rooms on the building's seventh floor were both vacant, and so he is the only neighbor I have.
Once I got to his door, I knocked twice. I got no answer save for silence.
I knocked again, this time calling out "Hello? Anybody here?"
I still didn't receive an answer so I spoke again. "I'm Bella. I'm your neighbor, and I'm just wondering if you want supper." Feeling silly for offering him boldly without even meeting him yet, I added "I'm just-I've never met you before, and I just want to know you a little… Hello?"
Still, no answer from him. Resolving that I probably am just imagining things again, I turned to leave. But then, I heard a groan from inside his room. It was quiet, but I couldn't be mistaken that it was a groan of pain.
"Hello? Are you alright?"
I heard another groan, so I decided to try to open his door. It didn't surprise me that much that the door isn't locked.
I hurried inside his room and was greeted by darkness. Fumbling for the switch, I heard another cry from him. This time, it was a cry for help.
"Wait, I'm just looking for your switch."
When I finally punched the switch to 'on', I turned towards him. It didn't surprise me to find my neighbor in such a state – his plea of help indicated as much – but what did surprise me is his face, for never in my life have I seen a most good-looking creation God ever made before.
He cried out in another agony, but this time, he was able to speak clearly.
"Help me, B-Bella."
And then he passed out.
DISCLAIMER: I've never been to New York. Educate me.
Twilight is Stephanie Meyer's, but you already know that.
Also, I based one line there from Shawshank Redemption's Brookes' line: "The world got itself into a big damn hurry," minus the cursing.
Lastly, I don't think I'll write from anyone's POV aside from Bella's for now. I'm not really sure if I'll change it anytime soon.
Thank you for your time.