Anna grew up in a field at the edge of town where civilization stopped and the milkweed was wild and untamed. The expansive patch of land was behind several apartment buildings whose views were of nothing but the low prairie skyline and an underused train track. It looked like a wasteland. The ground yielded no fruit and gave no shade. It homed rodents, snakes, bugs, and a never-ending supply of old house bunnies, all of which were as unwanted as the invasive species of flowers that bloomed there. The field had no use to anyone, save for Anna and Elsa.
To Anna, it had been many things, a rainforest, a jailhouse, a maze, and mansions. The tall reeds of grass had even been ocean waves. Anna learned to swim there. Other kids would sometimes join her, yet most grew bored or moved away. But not Anna. That barren piece of land was her whole world. Her love for it outlived her childhood. For a long time, it was a place all for her, where she could drown out the dense populous of the complexes, and sketch the only bit of nature she had access to within all the concrete. To Elsa, it would be something else entirely.
Elsa was nineteen when she moved into the complex. Out of the dozen or so boxes she and Cal pulled out of the Ram, only one had any of her things in it. She had grabbed what she could and most of it was just silly trinkets amassed on the top of her old dresser. Still, the box felt heavy, weighed down by her inability to catch her breath. Her entire body was vibrating, it was making her clumsy and frustrating Calvin. The deeper she tried to breathe the more her throat rattled. Her body refused to ward off the tension. If she kept her head down, she was able to avoid a second glance from residents when they passed by. Calvin greeted everyone he saw and reserved all his harsh words for inanimate objects as he struggled with the poorly packed boxes.
Everywhere Elsa's nervous eyes landed added to her anxiety. There were several runs in the low-ply carpet where the threads had come undone and a couple of the gold-toned mailboxes were off the hinges. The intercom made a spackling static noise every ten seconds or so. The white walls were bleeding yellow nicotine. She made the last trip downstairs on her own, hoping the solitude was what she needed to collect herself.
Elsa didn't notice her new neighbour keying her way into the foyer. The large box labeled kitchen rattling in her arms demanded attention. The sound of whatever plates, bowls, or glasses clinking together, had the stranger rushing to the elevator. Anna caught the sliding door for Elsa and pressed herself against it to let her pass. Elsa pushed by with her head down.
"What floor?" Anna asked.
Elsa's response barely made it through a repressed sob. Her swollen red eyes pleaded with her neighbour, who readily tossed her sketch pad on the ground to heave the box out of Elsa's arms. Elsa had little control of herself. Her chest and back seemed to roll as she took distorted breaths. She didn't know if it was the tears or the embarrassment but her face flushed all the same. She dropped her eyes and her stare found a bouquet of dandelions. As Elsa focused on the graphite, she felt a bit of oxygen reach her lungs.
"That's pretty," Elsa said. Anna erupted into a smile. The elevator chimed before it opened. Elsa wondered what it looked like to Calvin to see her red-faced next to someone beaming in delight. He lunged forward to take the box from her, thanking their neighbour, while using a side eye to scold Elsa. He backed off quickly.
Elsa stopped at the threshold to the fourteenth and final floor. She held the elevator door open with her back. The girl's soft features were as comforting as the picture she drew. Her smiling wasn't dropping. It scrunched the skin at the bridge of her nose, forcing the hundreds of freckles there together. Her cheeks were arched up, almost hiding a rare colouring of her eyes. The green looked fake under the fluorescent tube light. The elevator door gave Elsa an aggressive push. Coupled with a call of her name, she walked away from that morsel of comfort. She watched the girl in the elevator mouth her name, Elsa, as if she was promising to remember it.
"I don't get why you're crying," Calvin called out to Elsa. His voice guided her, reminding her of the direction of their new home. The elevator door closed as she entered the apartment.
"This is it, babe, we finally did it," he said as he put down the last of the twelve boxes. Elsa wanted to rush into his arms but she had never cried in front of him before.
"I'm sorry," she said. It was the only response she'd had for him all day. He rolled his eyes.
Cal's embrace was there, hers, for the taking. Yet, she crossed her arms over her chest and picked at the spaghetti strap on her tank instead. "I wasn't expecting them to be so harsh," she elaborated.
"I was expecting we'd be celebrating," Cal sighed.
Elsa was ill-prepared for this change. She wanted to find the impetuous part of herself. The one that accepted Calvin's marriage proposal. And had abandoned her father's skepticism and her mother's wrath. She had never been the kid who stood up for herself, but something about the life Calvin had offered her had made her bold. When the truck turned towards the apartment complexes, Elsa lost all traits of such recklessness. It got further away from her each floor the elevator climbed.
Elsa thought Calvin would be more of a comfort. She had known him for years, dated him for one, and had been sleeping with him since the night she'd agreed to be his wife. Being in the apartment felt nothing like sneaking out, walking down the block, and jumping into the rusted-out ram. She didn't know if the knot in the back of her throat was regret or common growing pains, only that her body had refused to swallow it. Calvin had his own expectations. They were on the bare mattress the previous tenants had left behind. Elsa couldn't fix what she felt but she could deliver what she promised when she accepted his ring.
"I grabbed a fiver before I left this morning. Give me your keys and I'll get us a beer," Elsa offered. It was that easy to get his shoulders to fall back below his neck. She'd take this chance to touch up her face and prepare for another try at the first day of this new life.
The newness of it all continued well past that day. The city lights, sharing a bed and just figuring out how to get the phone line installed made Elsa a different version of herself. She had to learn how to use a new voice and sleep on her side. She had to balance her checkbook and hoard quarters for the laundry. Making a home was a long and ever-growing list. Even as she moved on to the next thing, she was never able to kick her shoes off.
Being around Calvin was one long date. They had run away from the judgmental eyes that kept Calvin's hands to himself. His fingers often found her hips and his lips were free to press into her shoulders. She was always a glance away from him. Twenty-four hours was a long day to hold her breath. While gluttony never held him back, Elsa felt herself bloat. Getting into bed at night felt like having to keep the zipper of her skinny jeans up after a Thanksgiving meal.
Elsa slid out of the apartment for quick breaks. She took on the upkeep and ran off to put a load in the wash or take the garbage down. If she had the cash she'd run out to buy Cal his cigarettes. At first, it was an excuse to take a breath. Soon Elsa found herself drawn to the girl with the sketch pad she'd met that first day. Glimpses of her were plentiful. She was a staple of the field across the way as well as the front corridor. When the early summer rain kept her indoors, she could be found taking up two of the three metal-framed chairs lined up next to the mailboxes. Her shoulders would be hunched over, her face right at her knees. Each time Elsa came down, she seemed to have seeped closer to the sketchbook on her lap. She never lost focus enough for Elsa to ask her name. Elsa used that to become familiar with the girl as she watched her through the twenty steps it took to get outside. Maybe Elsa had expected the mini outings to escalate but she was above admitting it to herself. Either way, more than needing a break from her performance at home, she wanted to see the girl. It was a piercing urge that only dove deeper each time she saw her. Elsa tucked that feeling away and carried it around while everything else bogged her down.
Elsa landed a job. Working a computer was more foreign than the night shifts. Even the polyester of her polo was new to her skin. She was reminded of the unfamiliarity every time the back of the embroidered logo rubbed up against her chest. It was the first time she couldn't pick up the phone and dial her mother whenever she felt out of place. The hotel lobby was quiet in the middle of her shift. The phone behind the desk could make long-distance phone calls. It didn't matter. Her family wouldn't take her call, not anymore.
One of Calvin's old friends, Eddie, not only pulled some strings to get them their apartment in the complex behind his but had also put in a word with his boss. Calvin tasked him to keep an eye on his fiancee when they worked together. Eddie worked security at the hotel and he had long nights of bouncing between his coworkers and distracting them from their work. His stop at Elsa's station was to collect her for their break.
Although she disliked the stillness of standing at the front desk, she craved the quietude of it when forced around a table for her two a.m. lunch. The dozen people in the crowded room had plenty of stories to fill the half hour. When Elsa had stared at her empty lunch box for far too long, Eddie would wrap his around her shoulder. He would pull her into him as if physically adding her to the conversation. The gossip reminded her of high school. It was whispered when it was about coworkers but talk about patrons was as loud as it was lewd. Eddie loved to recap stories to fill Elsa in.
"I swear to God, they are going at it. They come at least once a month dressed in their businessmen costumes. But they aren't fooling anyone," Eddie was regaling. He had the staff room in rapt attention.
"Except their wives," someone added. The gasps, gaffs, and laughs all sounded different but everyone's response was the same, delighted disgust.
"I'll have to point them out to you at breakfast," the woman who was training Elsa leaned in to say.
"We give them the same room each time so that they don't ruin any more mattresses," Eddie reclaimed his time. The weight of his arm pulled Elsa in for dramatic effect. Everyone was hanging off his words as if the story was fresh. "I mean our beds are nasty but we don't want those queers getting someone sick."
Elsa let her discomfort show. It seemed to fit well in the room. The conversation changed over but Elsa was still thinking of the men in suits sneaking away together. She got to see them at the end of her shift as she helped set up the continental breakfast. They were clean and pressed. Both of them still had wet hair from the shower.
Eddie's shifts ended after Elsa's. She had to walk back home. There was a 24-hour shopping mall with a grocery department. She made a habit of stopping there to get food for Calvin's lunch. Elsa used to join her mother on Tuesdays afternoons at the superstore. That was when the produce was at its freshest. Together they would fill the cart while getting through the shopping list. Elsa could carry the sandwich meat and the loaf of bread in her arms. If she hadn't been distracted by staff room gossip, she would had time to make her budget. She didn't know had enough to buy Calvin the fruit he liked. At six a.m. though, the produce looked sad and picked over. A box of cereal stretched Elsa's cheque better anyway.
Her hands weren't full when she made it home to the complex. Still, her tired brain didn't have enough energy to focus as she fumbled her keys at the front door. It caught someone's attention and suddenly the girl with the sketch pad was taking the off-brand box of cereal out of Elsa's hand. She had to swallow a yawn to say, "I got it," as she let Elsa into the foyer.
"Thanks," Elsa managed to say this time. She had yet to see the girl at the start of the day. If she'd rehearsed a script for their first interaction, she'd lost the lines. She went deeper into the building, walking right past Anna.
"Oh wait! Your cereal," the girl called out. She rushed up to Elsa and held it out for her. This was Elsa's chance to introduce herself and she failed at it. She was face to face with the girl that had taken a spot in her mind and the shock of it destroyed all her faculties. Save for her heart, only Elsa's vision was working as she admired the sunburnt skin on the girl's face. The flush of pink was hottest on the bridge of her nose and trailed down to her face. She was wearing that smile again, where the fat of her cheeks bunched up above the edge of her green eyes. She shook the box in her hand trying to offer it up. It elicited no response from Elsa. "I met that guy you live with the other day. He was on his way to work. He seems nice." Elsa's nieghbour filled the air and snapped Elsa back into the hallway.
"Yeah, sometimes," Elsa said. It wasn't much of a response. Elsa didn't know why the girl kept trying. "He's your–"
"Boyfriend," Elsa quickly supplied as she started to catch up with the conversation. Elsa wasn't sure why it had felt important to demote Calvin. She hadn't even called him her boyfriend when they were dating. Their relationship had always been too secretive for that.
"What was his name again, Hobbs?" Anna quipped.
"Calvin," Elsa corrected, her brain still lagging. It fought to take in the features that weren't available during discreet glances. The girl's smile fell a little and Elsa realized she had effectively killed the conversation. All she could think of was how Eddie commanded the break room. After a beat, Elsa got another chance.
"You're working at the Arendelle Lodge." The girl used the off-brand chocolate puff box to point at the hotel logo on Elsa's chest. "Cool. I always thought that place looked fancy. I go to school around there. It'll be my senior year come fall." When Elsa didn't respond, the girl waned again. She reached out to call the elevator.
"We only have three stars," Elsa blurted out. Not Oh what's your school called? or what are you called? but it effectively stopped her neighbour from pressing the up button. "So, not fancy."
"Are you liking it?" Elsa knew she was fumbling it. But the girl hadn't completely dropped her smile. Her question felt genuine. She was acting the way Elsa wanted to. Maybe she was just better at this than Elsa.
"It's good. It's night shift. So it's quiet. But all the good hotel stories happen at night." Elsa let her confidence build up a bit.
"Ooh," Anna let go of a tiny excitement. She jumped up on her toes and then back down again. "I never thought about it like that."
"Yeah, it's sordid." Elsa tried to channel Eddie. Her neighbour was starting to blush. "Like there's these two important-looking corporate guys that come like once a month. They share a room even though everything they wear is expensive. I saw them this morning. One of them wears a wedding ring." Elsa's recounting of the tale didn't have any of Eddie's flair but the girl was listening.
"They're together?" Anna asked. Elsa nodded. The way Eddie told it had left no room for interpretation.
"One of the security guards looked at the elevator footage. They hold hands every time. The whole way up."
"That's actually kinda sweet," the lack of admonishment in Anna's response was a surprise.
"I thought it was sad." This was the first thing Elsa had said in weeks that didn't have to run through her mind before she could speak. Anna's response was to call for the elevators. Elsa tried not to curse the chime as the heavy doors slid open. Her fingers brushed up against Anna's hand as she took Calvin's breakfast back.
"See you around, Elsa," the girl said. The doors closed on the best part of Elsa's day before she could ask the girl her name.
Elsa had the apartment all to herself now that Calvin was working. He'd gotten hired on to do road work over the summer. It was only his third shift. She immediately felt bad for how pointedly vague she had been about him downstairs. It was worse that she hadn't wholeheartedly vouched for his kindness over having called him her boyfriend. The proof of that was sitting on the kitchen counter. He'd written her a note in black felt marker before he'd left for work.
E: Hope you like it. Miss you already. -C
There was a drawing under the note. The marker bled through and distorted parts of it. The margin was jagged as if it had been absentmindedly ripped out of a sketchbook. But the damage couldn't hide the little intricacies of the skyline. It was the view of the field behind the complex. Elsa walked over and out to the balcony. Her sightline was much higher than the apartment where it was drawn. Still, the sketch could serve as a map of the untamed piece of land. Elsa looked out for the little patch of flowers that marked the edge of the concrete. She found them at the start of the field right where they were so vividly depicted in the sketch. In Elsa's slightline, the picture's artist was trudging through the grass, art supplies in hand. Elsa watched her settle into a spot where all vegetation was flattened from her frequent visits. Even the picture showed the spot. It was right there in the corner where the artist had signed her name.
Anna, Elsa mouthed. She ran her fingers over the peaks and dips of the girl's name. Not because she would forget it, but because it made her feel something new.