December 23rd, 2018 New York (Gabriella) (10am-1am)
Gabby stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk. The very instant her body felt the jolt, she was falling fast. Her small frame crashed into the pavement, and her coat tore at the shoulder. Her knees took the full impact, and her elbows felt the gravel. The pain doubled as she felt her kneecaps begin to bruise. In all the confusion, she lost hold of the piece of paper she was holding out in front of herself. The earlier part of the day had seen a little bit of cold rain, and the pavement was still a little slippery. Gabby made sure she watched her steps on the pavement.
She picked herself off the sidewalk just in time to see the paper fly high into the crisp air. The small piece of paper spun in the wind putting Gabby at a full-blown run in order to catch it. She stopped at the intersection, for the light was green. To her horror, the paper blew right into the middle of the road. Traffic had to pass for a few moments, before gabby could snatch the paper back again. The piece of paper, which was once a map, was now torn and slightly covered in mud and exhaust fluid, and black ice chunks. The rain certainly hadn't helped much. She could barely read the street name she had to find. She sat on the stoop of a nearby building and cried. After a few moments of tears, Gabby shoved the piece of paper deep into her pocket and headed on her way. She needed to find him.
The world had been cruel and she wanted it to end. Why had she dragged herself here from Boston? She was clinging to a hope that she wasn't sure even still mattered. She wished she'd been nicer to him when they'd last met. It had been so long ago and he had been drunk. She had been with her fiancé in a bar in Massachusetts, when Troy had walked in with some players from a college basketball team she didn't know. He had been terribly drunk and she too had had a few drinks. She had tried to talk to him, but he had ended up making wildly inappropriate comments about her and she had slapped him. That was the last time they spoke.
On the map she had drawn directions to Troy's apartment. She remembered seeing him in a bar around here several years ago. She knew he still hosted, or managed for the Knicks, so he was in New York, somewhere. Going about it the smart way, she figured she'd look him up. She spent an entire day looking through phonebooks in hopes of finding him. She hoped there weren't that many Bolton's in the city. A week or so ago she had seen him on sports center channel, after the game the Knicks had won. She remembered watching that on birthday because she had been in the bar alone.
She tried to recall the pretenses under why she had left him. She kicked a small stone along the sidewalk and thought harder. She had wanted an education, and he had wanted a career. Although Troy and her had connected once after High school, they were too far away, and too driven to hang out much. Gabriella founded a research institute, but after a few years the government shut her down due to inadequate funds.
Her birthday had been a terrible nightmare. Her fiancé lost his job and left her for all she was worth. That evening she arrived home, to an empty apartment. She cried herself to sleep with Images of Troy in her head. She hadn't known he was gone for good till the next morning, when there was a note posted on the door. She had missed it in the dark the night before.
From the looks of the place, her fiancé had taken all of his stuff and left her with the bills and the receipts and paperwork and money debts. She spent two days in her apartment alone before she decided it was not to be. She canceled all the credit cards and checked on her bank account, which was mostly empty, and drank to keep her fiancé at bay. She had some money saved up, but it was too little to do anything with. He ran up credit on joint cards and didn't pay them off, as well as the ones in her name. They money he owed was so great; there was no way she could go on like this.
On the third day, there was a knock at the door. When she opened her door, her surly looking landlord, stepped in with an outstretched hand. She pointed out that her fiancé had paid the rent last week. The landlord shook his head. Gabby tried to be of brave standing but lost it when the landlord told her the rent was several months overdue. The landlord gave her a statement, and told her to be out by tomorrow. Only then did she learn that her fiancé had gambled the money she gave him for the rent. The world collapsed around her.
That afternoon and well into the next day Gabby and her closest friend a woman named Nolene, packed up her apartment. Their mutual friend Sharpey had introduced Nolene, to Gabby. Nolene and her husband lived a few miles south of Boston, and invited Gabby to dinner every so often. Today however, Nolene was there for support. Through her pain she packed all of her belongings into several large boxes. She didn't have very much. Nolene and her husband had agreed over the phone that they would indeed hold as many boxes of Gabby's stuff as she needed in their basement. Gabby couldn't thank them enough, for housing her life while she looked for a new place to live and a new job.
The following day at noon the landlord came by to inspect the progress. He helped the two ladies move Gabby's boxes into a waiting car near the street side of the building. Gabby wanted to find Troy. She thought maybe he could help her find an apartment or a small loft in New York.
All she planned take with her was a backpack, into which she put the things that mattered most. In the backpack, was the only money she had, a cell phone with a calling card for 10 minutes, two shirts and a pair of mittens. She also had a photo album with her favorite pictures of the past 5 years. There was also a small notepad, a pocketknife, a small bible, and a small bottle of whiskey.
She put on several sweaters and her coat, but even that didn't keep the cold out. She wished she was wearing more clothing, or at least had purchased a stronger coat. The coldest part of the year was settling down upon the city, and she was oblivious.
She had enough pocket money for one bus ride to New York. She told Nolene she would call if things didn't pick up within a few days. Nolene agreed, knowing that Gabby would keep her word. With that gabby hopped the liner from Boston to New York. She ate whenever she could, or whenever she felt she needed to; but still did not eat enough to satisfy her needs. When she got to New York however, there were other obstacles. The first two days in the city were a nightmare. Unable to afford even simple things, she ate and slept in shelters and Red Cross facilities. The beds at the shelter were hard and lumpy and Gabby wished for something better.
The traveling was taking a toll on Gabby's body. What little food she consumed, her body became weaker. The shelters, the squalor and the dirt didn't help either. It was nearing Christmas and she was sure she'd never find him. She prayed she would find him every day. He was her only hope. Last week's snow was clumping on the sidewalks and Gabby couldn't help but feel as though she too, was just another thing to get old and vanish.
She wasn't sure she even knew anymore. She looked up every Bolton in the area and had come up with nothing. She tried, every name, every address, and every phone number. There were so many of them in the city.
There was one last name on the list, and Gabby hoped, and prayed that it was him. She wasn't sure she could do this anymore. If she didn't find him today, she would go home. Maybe it wasn't meant to work out. She scoped out the apartment building that the last number in the phonebook corresponded with.
She sat by the apartment and watched. Even on better circumstances, this is not the way she wanted to re-enter his life. The day came to an end, and people walked to and fro on the streets, many cast their eyes down on her as they past. To them she was another disheveled beggar in search of a few coins or a hot meal. Most avoided her altogether. By 7:00 it had started to rain, and the streets cleared up as if someone had thrown a switch. Many people headed into buildings and under awnings, some called taxis and some got in cars.
The rain had soaked through Gabby's thin coat and water had started to drip into her boots. Her unruly hair hung limply in clusters where she hadn't brushed it back. The rain was the only positive thing that had ever happened; because of the rain nobody would notice her tears. She let her tears run steadily down her face. She sat on the retaining wall outside the building and contemplated how to go home.
Before 11:00 a nicer make of car, Gabby who didn't know anything about cars couldn't have said what it was, pulled into the apartment garage and Gabby noticed that the driver was none other than Troy. She followed him with her eyes until he disappeared. She was afraid of what seeing him again meant. She wasn't sure she wanted to go face to face with her nightmares, not yet. There was a disheveled look about Troy too. She couldn't tell really from her position, but she was sure he had ghosts too.
Gabby let the rain tumble around her and thought about how she would approach him. After a short time, She was finally ready, or as ready as she'd ever be. She took one long breath and stepped inside the building. She walked inside quietly so that nobody would hear her. She walked up one flight of stairs, but afterward found she didn't have enough energy to lift her feet. The day had taken its toll on her. She found an elevator and rode it to the 15th floor. She hated elevators, they reminded her of her research job. She was too cocky, the intelligence so new, her program too underfunded. How could she have missed the signs?
Apartment 151A was on her left. She stumbled up to the door, and used her strength to knock. It was the middle of the night. She knew she shouldn't do this. What would she gain if he said no? Where else was there to turn?
The door opened and she was looking into Troy's blue eyes. She loved his eyes and always had, it was hard to say why. It was all in there, her joys, her pain, her ultimate gift of love, was reflected in those very eyes. His however held pain, deep suffering and longing.
She was unable to speak, her ability to speak, and think was diminished. She was cold, and tired, and couldn't stand much longer. Once she saw him, her mind stuck on instant reply, she backed away a little instinctively. She could only murmur, and in response Troy offered her his hand. She accepted, and walked through his door into heaven. A numbing uncaring oblivion swept over her, and she fell into a soft white cloud.
December 24th 2018 New York (Troy) (1am)
There was a knock on the door of Troy's apartment. The rap echoed through the surrounding atmosphere. The sound waves blistered in all directions filling the empty space. Although the knock was soft, its presence was not. The soft rap awoke Troy from deep slumber, and dreams of basketball and Gabriella. He turned over and looked at the clock on his nightstand, which was hard to make out. The numbers were hard to read, he hit it once, in hopes hat it would light up. Outside his window a flash of lightning and the soft patter of rain could be heard. It wasn't the storm that woke Troy tonight, although he had been afraid of them as a kid. The snow on the streets would be ice by tomorrow, and slippery on Christmas the day after. Troy could just imagine driving his new car through that, on Christmas morning to that charity function. He shook his head in frustration. He hated this time of year, and the charity functions were always terrible. Everyone wanted to know why he didn't have a girlfriend or female co-worker to bring. Going alone always meant ridicule. Christmas for Troy was a sad holiday. He balled up a section of the covers and tried to release his anger.
Troy listened intently to the night air, as he tried to wake up. He turned over, and pressed himself up on his forearm to see the clock better. The flashing red dials told him that it was 1am. He pushed his feet to the side of the bed and shook his head. Too early, he told himself. He proceeded to sit upright, using his hands to rub his eyes. He shook the blanket off and it slid to the ground, he left it there in a heap. It didn't matter to him; nobody would have to see the mess he made of his bed. Troy unwrapped himself from his sheets and stood up. He'd been having a good dream, and he usually didn't get visitors at night. If it were his manager, or his drinking buddies looking for some fun this time of night, he'd send them packing.
His scantily clad frame was muscular and tan, because since high school he'd kept in shape playing basketball. Although basketball didn't take as a career, he'd gone on to be a well-paid management and marketing asset for a professional basketball club. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, which covered him to the middle of his thighs. Troy flexed his upper arms and looked out the window into the dark night. The roll of thunder could be heard over the New York cityscape outside. Troy shivered and tried to forget his fear of storms.
Troy's well kept, and somewhat expensive apartment was on the 15th floor, so he felt like he was above the city. The lightning was so close, and the thunder so deep to Troy it felt like it was on top of him. This feeling always brought back the nightmares. Troy looked across the darkened room and decided to put on a t-shirt, because answering the door in one's boxers was not truly professional. Once when he'd been younger he'd answered the door in his boxers and his manager had laughed at him. He decided he didn't want that to happen again. He threw the white t-shirt over his head and stepped into a pair of sweatpants for safety. You never could tell who was going to come knocking.
The heater smelled of cloves and warmth, he turned away and stumbled out to the foyer of his apartment. This was always the hard part, he wasn't sure he heard the knocks anymore. It could just be a joke. He took a deep breath and reached for the door handle just as the knock sounded again. He was sure there was someone there. Troy took another deep breath and slowly let it out afraid of what he might find. In a small burst of energy Troy threw back the lock and turned the knob. The door swung in a small arch, stopping at Troy's foot.
In the hallway, under the garish yellow orange light stood the one woman Troy had ever loved. He rubbed his eyes, in the belief that he was still asleep. Her dark hair was wet and fell past her shoulders, framing the face that Troy loved. He frame was small and thinner than Troy had remembered, as if she hadn't eaten since Troy had seen her last. She was soaked to the bone and could hardly stand. The look was befitting more of a stray dog, then a woman. She was stooped, leaning on the doorframe as if that knock had taken all her energy away. With a glance to the left and the right, Troy opened the door of his apartment more, and stepped toward her. Troy noticed small amounts of snow on her worn coat, and on her eyelashes. He got closer. Behind her was a small suitcase no bigger than a travel backpack. Troy realized she'd probably been living like this for some time, he couldn't even imagine what that was like.
Troy wanted to make sure she didn't die of hypothermia, so he opened up his door a little more. He would need to coax her inside. He looked deep into her eyes, and studied her. Her face was expressionless like she knew coming back here was like crawling back to what could have been, not what was. Her body language spoke of troubles and homelessness, Troy need not ask. He stepped back opening the door fully.
Her brown eyes looked up at Troy and pleaded as though her life depended on it. Her eyes held years of pain and emotion, some of which Troy knew was his fault. Moments past as the two stared at each other, the silence was as fragile as glass, Incredibly thin glass at that. Troy made up his mind to take her in no matter what it cost him. He still loved her through all the pain, and years of hate and passion. She was still the only woman who had ever come to his rescue and taught him the true meaning of love.
Troy couldn't stand it anymore, he wanted to pick her up and make all of her troubles disappear. For a moment, Troy thought he was still dreaming. He hadn't seen her in several years, and even then they had only spoken a few words and she had slapped him in front of his manager and some drinking buddies. He couldn't remember what she had said, but he remembered how he felt afterwards. He knew she had been angry, and that she probably only thought of him as some drunk. He wondered how she got here.
Guilt was not he right word; it was more like a gnawing pain that never left. The ghosts that stayed with him, along with his remorse of wanting something else. The ability to bring her back into his life eased that a little bit, but not enough. She still had true beauty that other women would never have, and every time he was with another woman his mind drifted back to her and what their high school relationship had been. She had been perfect. At 28, Troy could have any woman of his choice, but he kept himself clean of the woman who just wanted him for his body. He'd had many of those before in his day. There were no other women in his life right now. He needed to feel her pain and absolve his own.
Troy stuck out his hand and a small and fragile one was placed inside it. Troy felt at ease with her hand in his. Troy guided her into his apartment, being careful with how fast he moved. With his free hand he grabbed her bag, which was soaked as well. Troy led her inside shutting the door behind them. Troy left her in the living room and went to fetch towels and a dry outfit for her to wear. He didn't really have any women's clothing, so he grabbed his robe instead. When he returned her strength had failed her and she had fainted into a heap on the bearskin rug Troy had in the center of the room.
