These Days
week four
When I wake up I can tell that something is different, something in the air feels strange and new. For what seems like the hundredth time I watch the rest of the boys go off to sell their papers while I, alone, stay behind. As usual Snoddy is nowhere in sight, and I begin to wonder what it will take to make him realize.
The day is gray and more and more clouds begin to roll in as I walk to Rita's. She is waiting by the door for me and I can tell that she too senses the difference. Maybe it's because it's the fourth week. The last week. We meet each other's eyes sadly and she gives me a weak smile. I have trouble answering it.
"So," I say. "Where to today? Where would you like to go? What would you like to do?"
She glances up at the sky quickly. "I think I'd just like to go for a walk, if that's okay with you."
"Of course," I say, and we turn down the next street together.
"How…" I hesitate, but she looks expectantly at me, waiting for me to go on. "How do you feel today?"
It's the first time that I've ever asked her something like that, and the words feel strange. But it's the fourth week. I feel like I can't go on trying to forget.
"Alright," she says slowly. "Tired. And sad. A little unsteady." She wobbles a little as if to prove her point and then clutches at my hand for support. But once again she doesn't let go. "And yourself?"
I smile. "Just fine, thanks."
After that there is comfortable silence between us, just the clacking of our shoes against the well worn cobblestones. Her thumb strokes the back of my hand idly and it makes me shudder. Even now, with her eyes dulled by exhaustion, she's beautiful.
It begins to sprinkle, cold, cold rain, and I squeeze her hand a little tighter. She says nothing about stopping our walk but I begin to worry.
"Are you sure you want to stay out?" I ask as the drops start to come down harder. "I don't know if we should, you might…"
"What?" She laughs, and looks at me, "I might catch a cold?"
I blush a little and bow my head, an action that sends the water from my hair running down my face and into my eyes. She laughs again, quietly, and then stops and tilts my chin up so she can wipe the water away for me. Her hand is freezing and I try again.
"You don't want to go inside?" I say, trying my best to be convincing.
And she looks me straight in the eye. "Specs," she says, trying to be casual. "It might not be raining tomorrow."
---
Later that afternoon we go back to her room so she can rest. She's gets tired early in the day now, she can't go far without a break. I make some tea for her in the makeshift kitchen in the corner of her room and we sit in silence, enjoying each other's company.
She takes a nap and I stand by the room's one window, watching the rain continue to pour down outside. Even when she's sleeping she looks exhausted, and the sight leaves me bitter. And even this slight relief does not last long, as she begins to cough and wakes herself up. I help her sit up and prop pillows and blankets up behind her back and hold the mug of tea for her while she sips at it. When her bout is over she sighs softly and leans back on the pillows with her eyes closed.
I am about to ask her something when there is a knock on her door. She makes no move even though I am sure she is still awake, so I straighten from my crouch and go back to the window, assuming that she doesn't want to answer it.
The door opens anyway and I can see the reflection of Snoddy between the raindrops on the window. I keep my back turned as he shakes off his clothes and his hair and then I follow his progress as he stops by the bed, where Rita is still pretending to sleep, and then moves on to me. He puts a heavy hand on my shoulder.
"I can take over from here," he says. I nod and move away towards the door. Before closing it behind me, I turn around and see them: Snoddy is sitting on her bed with one of her hands in both of his, and she is beginning to open her eyes. He senses my gaze and turns a little.
"Thanks," he mouths, and I close the door.
-
Outside the rain is pouring down harder than ever, but I find a bench and sit down and tip my head back and open my mouth. It's like she said. Tomorrow, it might not be raining.
---
I get back into my regular routine right away. Nothing has changed in the three weeks that I've been absent from my real job, and so I find it easy to slip right back into the ranks as a nameless, faceless newsboy.
I never see Rita outside but I spend a lot of time thinking about her, and I make a point to walk past her boarding house a few times a day. Sometimes I see Snoddy up there, staring out the window like I did, but we still can't make eye contact. I find that I don't care if he's still angry at me, I'm just glad that Rita has him, at least for this last week.
---
Friday evening comes with plans for Medda's and poker games, and I'm walking back to the Lodging House to grab my coat when I drop my hat on the street. And somehow -- somehow I know -- in the time between dropping my hat and picking it up again -- I just know.
And so I drop my hat again and run in the opposite direction.
I don't knock at the door, something tells me that it's open. I take one step inside the room and then freeze, speechless. Snoddy is sitting on the bed, just like when I had left him days ago, but his arms are cradling Rita's head, and this time she is not feigning sleep. He is holding her tight and shaking, trying so hard not to cry and failing at it. If he heard me come in he makes no move to show it.
I walk the few steps to the bed and kneel to the floor, taking one of Rita's cold hands in one of my own and squeezing Snoddy's shoulder with the other.
"I couldn't stop it," Snoddy says, his voice broken and choked up. "I tried so hard, but I just couldn't stop it. God, and she's gone, now… she's gone…"
I don't say anything, just look at her face, which is peaceful.
"I don't think she blames you," I say, then, keeping my eyes on her face. "She's not worried."
---
So that's the way it was left.
I notice things about Snoddy now, things that are different. Like how much he laughs, and how he only tries to do one thing at a time. I notice how kind he is now, and how, like me, the rain no longer stops him.
---
end
thanks to: the first snowfall, hot chocolate, snuggling on the couch, flannel pants, "Fool in the Rain" by Led Zeppelin, 40 minute study hall, and that little, random paragraph that I never thought I'd use.