Authors: Jake Ainsworth
21
Neville stood inside the ornately painted elevator. The mural was finished and the illusion of being swept away into a world with no worries was complete. Neville felt at peace in the painted palace interior. He wished he could be in a place where drama ceased to exist. A place where competition was frowned upon. A place where he and Victoria could live happily ever after. But he was not in that place. The world he lived in required cunning and strategy. There was no room for romance. He had tried to let someone in and it only resulted in heartache and baldness.
The doors slid closed, but before the two sides could reach each other, a hand slid into the crack in the door, preventing them from closing. As the door reopened, Neville was shocked to see Victoria step inside. As she came in, Neville slid to his right, covering the wet paint sign that hung on the wall. Unaware that the mural wall was still wet, Victoria went to the back wall and leaned up against it.
“Neville, I need to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to hear anything you’ve got to say.”
“Can’t you just put your pride aside long enough to hear me out?”
“What you did to me was inexcusable. There’s nothing you can say to undo it.”
“What I did? What about you? I was physically attacked and had my keys stolen, then I walked fifteen miles just to see you taking my place on the golf course. You just lost some stupid hair.”
Neville began fuming. “Losing my hair is no small matter. I take great pride in my looks. You know that.”
“I followed you here to apologize for that.”
“It’s too late for that now. I’m going to sign Niroki and move on with my life. I suggest you go back to your failing company and get over it.”
Victoria was indignant. She felt like she was dealing with a little kid throwing a tantrum. The doors opened on Niroki’s floor and Neville stepped out. Victoria was about to follow but felt some resistance. She peeled herself off of the wall and looked behind her where she saw a perfect imprint of her torso where the beautiful mural had once been. She grabbed her suit jacket and swung it around only to see various shades of gold and other striking colors that now adorned her suit. With an exasperated yell she took off after Neville.
22
Neville was just about to knock on Niroki’s door when a hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around with incredible force. He was surprised to see that it was Victoria who had grabbed him. Although he was relieved that it wasn’t some big security guard there to throw him out, he was nonetheless concerned that an enraged Victoria could just as easily pick him up and toss him down the elevator shaft.
“Who do you think you are? You think that just because your daddy owns some big advertising firm that do can do whatever you want. Treat people like dirt. Well here’s a news flash, bub, this isn’t junior high and your bullying doesn’t work in the real world.”
“Who do I think I am? Who do you think you are? Walking around with your morals displayed for everyone to see. You like to put on a show so that other people will see you as this caring person who never thinks about herself. But deep down inside, you know as well as I do, that it’s all about Victoria.”
“How dare you.” Victoria’s face turned a deep shade of purple as she struggled to defend herself. “I spend my life trying to help people. All you do is take advantage of them and try to see how much money you can swindle out of people.”
“Yeah…well at least I make money.”
“Ooo…good one Neville.”
“Quit acting like a child.”
“Me? I have never been talked to like this before. You’re such an oaf.”
The insults continued to fly. Neither one of them was listening to the other, each trying to get out as many words as possible. Victoria had some good shots about his vanity and high priced suits. She was adamant that he only cared for himself.
Meanwhile, Neville targeted her soft heart and kept ranting about how phony she was. Everyone could see past her façade and into the deep deception she had in her soul. When all of the rational arguments ran out, they began to attack each other in the same manner that children would fight over who was their parent’s favorite. Victoria took to calling him a spoiled brat, while Neville took the high road and preferred words like doody-head.
Just as the argument was about to come to blows, the office door next to them swung open with such speed and suddenness that the arguing came to an abrupt halt. Victoria and Neville both stood with their mouths agape and stared at Mr. Niroki, who wore the same look as a parent who was more disappointed than angry at catching their children in the midst of a lie.
“Please come into my office,” Mr. Niroki said. “Both of you.”
Mr. Niroki didn’t wait for their response. He walked back into his office and sat down at his desk before Neville and Victoria developed the intestinal fortitude to follow him. But when he gestured to the two chairs opposite him, his scowl deepened slightly and they figured it best to obey the man.
Sitting down, they waited for Mr. Niroki to speak. He folded his hands and brought them up to his chin. Uncomfortable silence covered the room as Mr. Niroki carefully considered his words. Finally, he spoke.
“I am very disappointed with the two of you.” His voice was less grandfatherly now and contained more of the tonal qualities of a Kung Fu master chastising his lazy students. “Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”
Neville and Victoria looked at each other, then down at the ground. They were both so ashamed that Mr. Niroki had caught them acting in such a childish manner. There was no excuse, no defense for acting that way; and they both new it.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Niroki,” Victoria said, trying to contain her embarrassment. “It won’t happen again.”
“No it will not,” Mr. Niroki confirmed. “I will not be advertising with ATA, Ms. Gaccion.”
A hint of hopefulness danced across Neville’s eyes. But not wanting him to think that he won, Mr. Niroki stared at him, as though the gaze in his eyes was trying to trip up the dancing hope in Neville’s.
“Nor will I be advertising with you, Mr. Pearson.”
“But Mr. Niroki, let me explain,” Neville pleaded.
“There is nothing to explain, Mr. Pearson. I have made up my mind.”
Victoria’s head slump even lower against her chest. Defeat was a heavy burden to bear. But Neville wasn’t so easy give up.
“Mr. Niroki,” Neville said. “You can’t allow a little personal tiff between the two of us ruin your chances at an amazing marketing strategy. PMZ is still the best company for your product. We can really take it to new heights.”
“I don’t disagree with that, Mr. Pearson. But your little ‘tiff,’ as you called it, tells me a lot about the two of you.” Niroki spun away from them and took his time pouring himself a cup of tea. He didn’t offer them any and they didn’t dare ask. Neither one of them was even willing to let a breath escape their lips. They sat silently, anxiously waiting to hear whatever Mr. Niroki was going to say next.
His voice was captivating. Even as he was scolding the two like little school children, his voice carried a wisdom that couldn’t be ignored. They had both heard all they needed to hear, neither one of them got the account. They could have left then and there. But something compelled them to stay, as if their lives wouldn’t be complete without the nugget of wisdom Mr. Niroki was about to say.
“I don’t understand you two.” Mr. Niroki seemed to not notice the perplexed looks on the faces of Neville and Victoria. “When I first met you, especially you, Ms. Gaccion, you seemed to swoon when talking about Mr. Pearson. But now, I can’t understand the hate I see from you. To me, it’s very sad to see love give way to hate.”
If it was possible, Neville and Victoria felt lower than they ever had before. They wanted to slither off their chair and crawl underneath them to hide from the disappointing stare of Mr. Niroki.
“Unfortunately, I don’t believe that I can entrust my product to two people who fight like children. I’m sorry. You may both leave now.”
The twenty-foot walk to the door seemed to go on for miles. Disbelief sat on each of their faces like a mask, warping their normal features into bleak facades of hopelessness. They knew that there was no one to blame but themselves. They rode the elevator in silence, left the building, and went their separate ways, knowing that they would never see each other again.
23
The next couple of weeks came and went and, as far as Neville was concerned, were such a blur that they may as well have not even happened. Not leaving the apartment was the easy part. Accepting that life as he had once known it was forever changed, now that was more difficult to deal with. But he coped with it the best he could. Not having known such disappointment before, Neville was ill-prepared for the onslaught of disparaging emotions that flooded his mind.
There was nothing that could soothe a troubled soul like endless amounts of Chinese food and binging on ice cream sundaes. Ben and Jerry’s might have gone out of business had it not been for Neville losing his job.
It wasn’t necessarily the embarrassment of Neville getting the ax from his own father that drove him to his current depths of sadness. It wasn’t the fact the Sammy used Neville’s hard work and research to secure the Niroki account for himself that forced his unhealthy consummation of ice cream and wontons. But losing Victoria was a blow that he wasn’t able to recover from.
Without experiencing love from his father, or anyone for that matter, the time that he had had with Victoria filled a hole in him that was now gaping wider than ever before. Her absence was an absence of light, of joy, of truly unbridled happiness. Although life had been empty before Victoria, that chasm of loneliness was now accentuated because he had experienced her love and then lost it.
Even walking out the front door of his house had taken on new meaning in this sullen world that he now lived. Looking back, he couldn’t help but wonder when his stay in that posh sanctuary would come to an end. No job meant no money. No money meant no home.
With a sigh of resignation, he began his trek to the little grocery store down the street. The usually busy New York City streets were bustling at an unusually rapid pace, or so it seemed in his depressed state. Everything seemed to move faster than him these days; faster, yet without passion or flare. The bright lights of the city had lost their luster. Nothing was exciting. Everything was without passion.
St. Vincent’s Episcopal Church was up ahead; its doors flung open, people spilling onto the sidewalk, which probably meant that it was a Sunday. Neville had lost track of time holed up in solitude. He wouldn’t have even been out and about had it not been for his lack of ice cream. It would be impossible for him to continue his strict regimen of binge eating and self-loathing without the proper tools. And ice cream was essential for both.
Weaving through the crowd of parishioners, Neville shrugged off the stares that accompanied his passing. Since his life had been reduced to eating massive quantities of food and hating himself, he no longer saw a need to shower. After all, there was no one left to shower for. He didn’t care to impress anyone other Victoria, and that was no longer an option.
He had almost cleared the pious throng when a hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around.
“Ha. I thought that was you, Neville.”
A portly man dressed in black beamed up at Neville. His rosy cheeks and unbearable cheery complexion gave the impression that this man one day aspired to the lofty position of Santa Clause, though he was only now in his thirties. Neville knew him as Leonard Sykes, but the combination of his black uniform and the Bible he clutched at his side told Neville that they had both gone drastically different directions since their years together at NYU.
“Leonard. It’s good to see you.” Neville tried to sound sincere, but knew instantly that he had failed.
“You too. I would ask you how you’ve been, but judging by your appearance and the unholy stench, I think I already know.”
Neville was ready to leave. He certainly wasn’t in a place where he could exchange witty banter with someone he hadn’t seen in years. But he tried to indulge the man who had once been his friend.
“It’s been a rough couple of weeks.”
“I can see that.”
Neville tried to think of something to say, but words failed him. So instead: “Well, it was nice to see you. I’m gonna go now.”
“Wait, wait.” Leonard’s grip never loosened from Neville’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come in and talk for a minute. Maybe I can offer some ‘fatherly’ advice.” Leonard laughed at the pun, though Neville found it a bit obvious. Preachers obviously had an arsenal of inside jokes that they were at liberty to pull out at every opportunity. Still, with nothing on his agenda for the rest of his life, he didn’t see the harm in a little chat. Perhaps the personal interaction would do him some good.
The office was small, yet elegantly furnished. Instead of uncomfortable guest chairs, a leather love seat was waiting for Neville. He willingly obliged the invitation offered by the plush sofa.
“Now then,” Leonard began. “What’s going on, Neville? Why’ve you let yourself get like this?”
Neville began where all stories should and recounted the entire tale. He was surprised at how quickly and effortlessly the story spilled out of him. Like a bottle of champagne vigorously shaken, he spewed out every detail. Every agonizing second was recounted in painful vivid detail. By the end, he was surprised to find himself crying to Father Sykes. Not just crying, but sobbing uncontrollably, every word accompanied by a deep gasp and a sniffle.
“Wow. It sounds like you both made a pretty a big mess of everything,” Leonard said.
“I don’t blame her. It was my own stupid fault for listening to Sammy and going along with that whole stupid idea.”
“Well,” Leonard began. “You may have instigated the whole thing, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t play a part in mending the broken relationship.”
Neville looked up doubtfully at the preacher, resistant to put much hope in the fact that he and Victoria could ever again have what they had lost.
“You think I can fix everything? How?”
“I didn’t say ‘fix everything.’ But I do think that there’s some things you can do to at least try.”
Neville didn’t say anything. He didn’t dare believe that things were repairable. He wouldn’t let himself hold to that kind of hope. That would only be setting himself up for another epic fall. It wasn’t’ worth it.
“Listen, Neville. I know that you’ve been hurt, and I know that you’ve done some hurting. But relationships are meant to be broken and restored. That’s how God designed them.”
That was a curious thing to say. Why would God design relationships to be broken? He clearly hadn’t thought that one through all the way.
Leonard continued, “The entire basis of our salvation is a broken and mended relationship. God created man as perfect and in perfect fellowship with Him. After man sinned, that relationship was broken off. It took Jesus dying to restore that relationship.”
“What does that have to do with me patching things up with Victoria? I don’t have to die do I?”
“No, no. Nothing like that. The point is this: even though Jesus died to mend the relationship between humans and God, humans still sin and break that relationship. It takes us asking for forgiveness to mend it once again. That’s the cycle that relationships are doomed to repeat over and over again. It starts out it perfect harmony, then someone, like yourself, screws things up a bit.”
“So if I ask her to forgive me then everything will be ok? I don’t see it working out like that.”
“It’s more than just asking for forgiveness, Neville. It’s an admittance of wrong, of how you hurt her. She’s hurting because she thinks you only care about you. You have to show her otherwise.”
Leonard could see that a light had clicked on inside of Neville’s lethargic mind. He folded his hands behind his head and smiled as he leaned back in his chair, quite proud of the wisdom he had just given.
Neville left the church in a hurry. Why hadn’t he thought of this before? Of course Victoria was upset. He had treated her like the competition instead of like a partner. That’s what she wanted to be, a partner,
his
partner. How could he have been so selfish? How could he be feeling sorry for himself instead of trying to make her feel better?
That all had to stop. She had to know that he was more than sorry. She needed to understand that for whatever reason, the things that used to occupy his life were now meaningless without her. The idea of returning to how things were without her was unbearable. His speed-walk turned into jog, then into an all-out sprint.
He was still five blocks away, but he didn’t care. If he could close his eyes and teleport himself there, it still wouldn’t be fast enough. She had spent too long being treated badly and today was the day it all ended.
Sweat rolled down from his barren head. Not much hair had grown in the two weeks since he’d lost it all, so there was nothing to keep the sweat from rolling down his face and pooling in his eyes. The salt from the sweat stung his tear ducts, but he used his sleeve to wipe them, never breaking stride.
Only two blocks away. His heart was pounding violently, not so much from the running, but from the anticipation of seeing Victoria again.
One block left. He grimaced at the stitch knotting up his side. He couldn’t stop yet. There it was. The door to ATA’s offices. He was almost there. Neville swung out towards the street and hit the doors at a full sprint. Colliding with the door at such high speeds slowed him sufficiently that he lost his balanced and hit the floor, the sweat his back acting as a lubricant against the tile that sent him sliding through the office and colliding hard with the landing about thirty feet from the door.
Getting up was never as easy as falling down. Still, he managed. Pulling himself up, he looked back towards the door and the stunned girl sitting at the desk adjacent to it.
“Can….Uh…Can I help you?” she said, still stunned from what she had witnessed. Such a spectacle was more suited for the likes of Larry, Moe, and Curly than it was the world of reality.
“Victoria,” Neville said breathlessly. A huge inhale, then: “Victoria.”
“Victoria’s not here right now. But if you…” she trailed off as recognition set in. “Are…are you Neville?”
“Yes…I…need to…talk…Victoria.”
“Holy crap.” The girl rushed over to him and grabbed his arm. “You need to go. Do you have any idea the trouble you’ve caused around here?” She pulled him towards the door, but he resisted.
“Yes…I do.”
“Then you know you need to…”
The front door opened, but it didn’t close. Victoria was standing on the threshold, mouth agape. Neville stood up tall. Even if he had air left in his lungs it wouldn’t have mattered. Seeing her again left him breathless. But not the kind that left him gasping for air, but the kind that gave him peace, knowing that if he died from lack of oxygen, the vision of the beautiful woman would forever be imprinted on his eternal soul.