Falling Stars (17 page)
"Are we close to my school?" I asked when we rounded a corner and headed toward an apartment building. Despite our pace, we had been walking for quite a while,
corner. It had a gray brick front and a faded burgandy awning over the entrance.
"This is it," Tony said. "Wait until you see the view. It's on the fifteenth floor." he said, and we entered the small lobby.
There was nothing much to it, some mail boxes on the right and a bench just under them with packages that were delivered for the tenants. I thought the elevator was very small, too, and it looked old and worn, so much so that I became anxious when the doors closed and he pushed the button for fifteen. I didn't want to say, but I had never been higher than the third floor in any building. I heard the metal cables grinding and groaning above us as if we were close to the maximum load or something.
"From one of the windows you can see the cable car that takes people to Roosevelt Island," he said.
I smiled and nodded as if I knew what he was talking about, but by now
I
was so nervous, I wished I had simply gone straight back to the school.
The elevator opened on a narrow hallway with pale yellow walls. I noticed scuff marks along the sides near the chipped and broken molding. The hallway floor was covered in a grayish brown rug that was very worn and dull. From some apartment came the heavy aroma of a pot roast cooking. Was that the way it was in New York apartments? Everyone knew what you were having for dinner? Why was he so excited about living here? I wondered.
We stopped at a door and he dug his hand into his pocket to produce the keys that opened three door locks. I laughed to myself. thinking how we never locked our door back in Ohio.
"Voila," he said, stepping aside after he had opened the door.
I walked in slowly. There was no real entryway. The doorway opened on the small kitchen. Mama would laugh at it. I thought. Our pantry was bigger. The appliances looked old and the walls were almost as faded as the hallway walls.
"In here," he guided, taking my elbow and turning me into the living room.
It, too, was rather small, with one oversized dark brown sofa, two matching chairs, and a glass coffee table. There was a scratched and dull hardwood floor with one oval area rug that looked like it needed a good shaking out. On the far side of the room was a sliding glass door that opened to a balcony just big enough for two people if they stood side by side, and close to each other at that. A curved black iron grating was set in the balcony walls.
It
curved inward with arrow heads as if to discourage anyone from leaning over too far.
The walls of the living room were papered in a vanilla ice cream shade. There were two large framed prints on opposite walls, both rather uninteresting pictures of city scenes, put up for their color coordination more than for their artistic merit. I thought. Even the frames were drab. The room itself was quite messy: some dirty dishes with remnants of sandwiches, dirty glasses with the soda now flat and oily-looking like some stagnant pool, dirty silverware, a few empty cans of beer lying on their sides, another on the floor by a table holding a pizza box. Magazines and books were strewn over the sofa and one of the chairs and on the floor beside a pile of notebooks.
"Looks like a boys' dorm. I know," Tony said, and started to clean up. "I had a few of the guys over two nights ago for a study session."
"Two nights ago?"
"Well..." He smiled. "I was never one for housework. Take a look at the view," he urged. and I went to the sliding doors. He rushed ahead to open them for me. "Go on, step out. It's safe." he promised.
I was grateful for the fresh air. While I stood an the balcony, he scooped up the dishes and cans. I heard him knocking about in the kitchen, throwing things into a garbage can and platting dishes into the sink. The view was impressive, although not enough to get me to want to live here, I thought. Some cargo boats were moving up the river, and I could see the line of traffic on what I knew was the East River Drive. It seemed so long ago when Mommy and Daddy and
I
drove on it.
"From the window in the bedroom, you can see that cable car I described." he said, coming up behind me. "This is why people pay the high rents."
"High rents? This is expensive?" He laughed.
"An apartment in this neighborhood with these views? Thousands and thousands."
I shook my head in disbelief. If Uncle Simon stood out here, he would grimace with such distaste and disgust, the owner of the apartment would think about moving out that day. You had to look hard to see any real greenery. Even up on this floor the traffic noise was considerable-- horns sounding, brakes squealing. Suddenly, my heart had such a longing to be back on the farm, to look out over our seemingly endless fields, to feel the warm, fresh breeze and smell the flowers, to simply dig my hand into the soft, warm and moist earth.
"Pretty nice, huh?" he asked. I smiled at him.
"I guess I'm too much of a country girl, Tony. It's nice, but not what I would like."
He held his smile. but I saw the warm excitement go out of his eyes like a snuffed candle. Did he really think I'd be so impressed?
"Sure. I understand. Frankly. I like being on the open sea the most. There's nothing like sailing, like feeling the wind in your hair, the sea spray on your face and looking out at the never- ending horizon. on. You feel... free," he said.
That did bring a deeper smile to my face. That I could understand.
"It sounds wonderful."
"Gotta get you out there. Honey. You'd hear music you've never heard before, and all of it composed by Mother Nature herself, with terns as the chorus."
I guess my eves brightened, and that
encouraged him enough for him to take the liberty of bringing his lips to mine before I could even prepare for a kiss. It wasn't a long kiss, just a smack on my mouth, more like a firecracker.
"Sorry, but I had to do that," he said. "You look so fresh. Elope you're not mad."
He turned before I could reply and headed for a cabinet. When he opened it. I saw the audio equipment. It looked elaborate, sophisticated, and technical. He pushed some buttons and lights began blinking. Then he opened a drawer and began sifting through a thick pile of CDs.
"I know I've seen a whole section on classical music..."
I walked in and stood behind him, waiting, wondering why I didn't get upset with his impulsive kiss. Was I giving him the wrong idea by not being angry? Should I just say I was leaving? How can someone kiss you and behave as though it was nothing more than a handshake? What would Cinnamon do? Ice? Even Rose? Was I suffering through this moment of confusion because I had such little experience with boys?
"Here they are," he declared and held one up. "A collection of Mozart. I knew it."
He held up what I recognized as the sound track of Amadeus, the movie about Mozart.
He slipped it into the CD player and pressed some buttons.
"Sit right here." he said steering me to the center of the sofa. "The speakers are all around you. Just close your eves and listen while I get us something to drink."
It did sound very good, but it was nothing like being at a live performance. Perhaps he really had never been to one. I thought. I tried to be polite about it. He seemed so excited and wanted so much to please me, how could I be otherwise?
"Great, huh?"
"Very nice," I said. "Yes."
"Told you so," he said. returning. He had two glasses with what looked like tomato juice in them. "Try this," he said. "I'm getting very good at it."
"Good at it? What is it?" I said, taking the glass from him and smelling the drink.
"They're called Bloody Marys. Ever have one?"
I shook my head.
"Go on, try it. Tell me how it tastes."
I took a sip and immediately choked as the spice brought tears to my eyes. He laughed.
"That good, huh?"
"What's in it?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that, and some vodka," he replied,
"Vodka?" I shook my head and started to hand it back to him.
"Oh, go on," he urged. "It won't hurt you. It'll help you relax, chill out." he promised and sat beside me. "What a sound, huh?" he said, nodding at the audio system.
"Have you ever been to a concert?" I asked him.
"Oh sure. lots. My parents have these subscriptions and I go with them from time to time."
"What have you heard?"
"Oh, just about everything. You name it. Drink your drink," he urged. "It grows on you. You'll see."
He practically lifted my glass to my lips for me.
I took another sip. He sat back and closed his eyes.
"What a sound. huh? I could sit here all night and just listen. I hardly watch any television anymore. I'm becoming a real fan of good music, the kind of music you play. I'm sure," he said. "Maybe I should come to your Performance Night. too."
"No," I said quickly. You can't. We're just permitted two guests each."
"I'll sneak in," he threatened.
"No, don't."
He laughed,
"You know you're about the cutest girl I've ever met. There's something very fresh and honest about you. Where did you say you came from again?"
"I'm from Ohio."
"What do your parents do?"
"They own a corn farm."
How did he forget what I had told him before? Wasn't he listening to me? He certainly made it seem as if he had been hanging on my every word, every syllable!
"Farmer's daughter, of course!" he cried. He tapped his glass to mine. "Here's to the corn on the cob." He started to drink, and then paused when I didn't lift my glass. "Don't you want to drink to that?" I took another sip.
"You've got some great girlfriends there. Honey. I bet you all have some good times when you party. huh? Especially that Ice. She looks like she could be the life of a party. I know how those quiet ones can be."
"She's not that way and we don't party," I said. He smiled skeptically.
"We don't," I insisted. "We barely have any time off. This Sunday afternoon is the first since we all started because part of our curriculum is attending shows, concerts, lectures on the weekends," I explained. "I thought you said you knew all about that."
"I did. but I didn't really believe it. That is dedication. Which means," he decided. "that you've earned a good time then. Drink up," he urged and tapped my glass again. Hesitantly, I took another sip. "Amazing how it grows on you, huh? I like a drink that comes through the back door, tiptoeing up your spine," he said, trying to make his voice mysterious and running his fingers up my back as if they were the legs of some spider. I jumped, and he laughed. It was a strange laugh. Something about it made me very anxious.
"You're ticklish, huh? That's good. Ticklish girls are a lot more sensuous. I read that. And," he said winking. "I can tell you it's true.'
He was acting now like the Don Juan he claimed he wasn't. What happened to all that innocence, that love pain?
He started to move closer.
"I think
I
better let going," I said.
"Why? You said you weren't in any rush to get back. Your girlfriends aren't going to be there. They're all having some fun. It's not against the rules for you to have some fun, too, is it?"
"I don't really like this drink," I said, putting the glass on the table. "I'm sorry. It's just not for me. I guess."
"Not for you? What do you drink on the farm, homemade corn whiskey?"
"No. I don't drink whiskey," I said. I didn't like the ridicule in his voice.
"It's just a little vodka, for God's sake. What's the big deal?"
"It's not what I like."
I
said. "That's the big deal," I added and started to stand.
"Take it easy," he said, pulling me back. "I'm just trying to get to know you better. Honey."
"I don't have to drink vodka to get to know someone." I said.
He stared at me, his eyes suddenly so dark, a stream of pure anger running through them. It put a cold finger on my heart, and I looked longingly now at the door.
"I've got to find my way back," I said softly.
"It's no problem. I'll call you a cab and it will come right to the front of the building. You'll be back in ten minutes, believe me," he said, putting his glass down and moving closer to me.
His arm slipped behind me and his hand popped up like a snake in the grass. His fingers closed tightly on my shoulder and he turned me toward him so he could plant his lips on mine, this time pushing his tongue into my mouth and moving his left hand up the side of my body and over my breast.
I put my hands against his chest and pushed him away. "Hey!" he cried. "Don't be so unfriendly."
"I don't want to do this."
"Then why did you come up here?"
"To listen to the music," I said. "To see the view you talked about so much."
"Sure."
"Well, that's what you asked me to do, isn't it?" He tilted his head and smiled.
"What are you, a tease? Is that what they teach you on the farm?"
I started to stand and he reached up, grabbed my arm, and pulled me down roughly.
"Stop it!" I cried, but he was over me, his mouth on my face, down my neck, his fingers fumbling with the zipper on my jeans. I squirmed and pushed and even pounded his shoulder with my fist, but he kept his weight over me. 'Tony, stop!" I screamed. "You're hurting me."
His hands went under my blouse and over my bra, the thumbs lifting it roughly away from my breasts so he could strum my nipples. I reached out, seized the glass containing the Bloody Mary, and splashed it into his face. He fell back, cursing. and I jumped up.
"Damn it!" he cried, rubbing at his eyes. "That burns."
"It serves you right," I said. "You tricked me into coming up here. You had no intention of just listening to music."
I hurried to the door. At first. I thought I was locked in until I realized how to open the second lock. He was up and calling to me. but I hurried out and into the hallway, slamming the door behind ine.
"Hey, you come back, you tease," he screamed through the closed door and then opened it to follow,
"Stay away from me," I shouted and stopped at the elevator. He was coming down the hallway, still rubbing his eves.
"Come on back. I was just fooling around. Well just listen to the music, if you want. Come on."
"No." I said. "Thank you. but I want to go."
The door opened and I stepped in, only he did, too.
"Leave me alone. Tony, or I'll go to the police," I threatened.
"And tell them what? You came up to my apartment to listen to music?" He laughed and moved toward me. "If you just relax, you'll see you can have some fun. Come on," he urged. "I'll forgive you if you'll forgive me."
He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed his fingers like pincers as he brought his lips toward mine again. Instinctively. I brought my right knee up into his groin sharply, getting him where I knew it would hurt him the most. He cried out and crumpled to his knees just as the elevator door opened.
An elderly lady stood there with a bag of groceries in her hand. Gazing in at us with a look of such shock on her face. I thought she might faint or have a heart attack. I stepped past him quickly as he rose by grabbing the railing and pulling himself up the side wall of the elevator.
"What's going on here?" the elderly lady asked me.
"Ask him," I said and hurried out of the lobby. I rushed down the sidewalk, walking as quickly as I could. I looked back once when I crossed a street. Thankfully, he wasn't coming after me. I walked faster, nevertheless, choking back the tears that rushed to my eyes.
People seemed to be looking at me everywhere. I guess because I was practically running and I did still have a frantic expression on my face.
They must think I'm out of my mind,
I thought. I was searching for someone I could ask for directions, but every time I turned toward someone, he or she looked absolutely terrified of me. One woman I called to actually broke into a fast walk to get away, and all I had done was pause to get her to help me.
Finally. I saw a police car and hurried to it. I knocked on the side window and the patrolman rolled it down.
"Yes?"
"I'm lost," I said, and told them where I was trying to go.
"You're not very lost." he said with a soft smile. "Take it easy. All you have to do is go over one block west and then go two more south, okay? Your street will be on the right. You're fine. Miss."
"Thank you." I said and followed his directions. When the Senetsky School came into view. I felt all the tension and panic leave my body. I never thought I would look upon it with such relief. We had all been given keys to the pedestrian gate. I hurried through and up the walkway to the front entrance, not stopping for a breath until I was practically at the door itself. Then I paused, looked back once, and entered.