Stuart and Josephine slipped out the back door to the rear parking lot. It was inhumanly hot; heat shimmered as it rose from the tarmac. Neither was sure what the point of taking breaks outside was when there was an air-conditioned staff room. Still, they voluntarily sat outside boiling in pools of their own sweat. Conversation seemed as slow and laborious as movement.
"Jo?"
"Uh-huh."
"Does Nick ever come by here?"
"You mean like here at work?"
"Yeah."
"No, he's usually working during my shifts."
"What does he do?"
"He works at a recording studio. Hooks up gear and stuff."
"Worked with anyone I'd know?"
"Nah. He usually works with, like, underground urban artists."
"You should get him to come in sometime."
"I can try..." She shrugged. "What about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Your girlfriend."
"I don't have one."
"Not high on the highschool totem pole?"
"Yeah, you could say that."
"Dating in highschool is pretty horrendous. Highschool is pretty horrendous."
"Truer words were never spoken. Did you meet Nick in highschool?"
"No, after I graduated. I couldn't get anyone to go out with me in highschool."
He shifted to lean back against the wall and scraped his sneakers against the pavement.
"Hey." She didn't say anything, just turned to look at him. "Have you ever been in love?"
"Yeah. I am."
He squirmed again and averted his eyes from hers. "What's it like?"
"The most beautiful, estastic, excruciatingly painful feeling you can imagine."
Stuart nodded. "I'm in love too," he said softly. Josephine glanced quizzically at him while he stared purposefully at his shoelaces, feeling like a moron for having said anything.
She looked at her watch. "Time to go back." She smiled a little too brightly.
They stood slowly, feeling the warmth of the city press aggressively against their skin. The sky was a hard, crayoned blue and clear far into the distance. The city desperately needed a storm.
"You look kinda' rough," Stuart ventured the next morning. Josephine had dark bags under her eyes and a sad, distant look.
"I know, I had trouble sleeping last night. Okay, flip. Yeah, that's good." She was training him on the grill- all he knew how to do was fries. Some of his co-workers would only refer to him as "Fry Guy".
"This looks really disgusting."
"Yeah." She was staring at a point a million miles past the front window.
"Are you okay?"
"Um, yeah, I'm fine."
"Are these done?"
"If you're planning to kill some people, yes."
"Oh."
"And the manager said you didn't need to be trained."
"I'm better at fries."
"I'd say so."
"Remember when I just started here a couple months ago and you were teaching me fries, and I burned myself?"
"Do you have a scar from that?"
Stuart nodded. "Just a little one." He showed her the underside of his wrist where there was a small, irregularly shaped splotch on his pale skin.
"What, do you want me to kiss it better?"
"Yes." He grinned at her. He had suddenly known that she knew. That had been an okay thing to say.
She grinned back. "Okay, they're done."
The parking lot was simply too unbearable, so they sat together in a corner of the staff room, drinking water in cone-shaped cups.
"So how come your friends haven't been by?"
"You ask too many damn questions."
"What?"
She looked at him, her shoulders slumped. Her eyes were sad and old, and her distant look was replaced by one of exhaustion. She had tried but she couldn't hold it in forever. And Stuart was different. But not different enough. "There are some things that I can't tell you. That I can't tell anyone. I've had to lie to you, and I'm sorry."
"Your friends?"
"Don't exist."
"Nick?"
"Not my boyfriend. A Backstreet Boy."
He looked into her eyes and saw the deepest sadness he could ever have imagined. "Why did you lie to me?"
"I didn't want you to worry..."
"You can tell me."
"No. You can't imagine."
Stuart looked at her again and understood. He took her small hand under the table and stroked it with his thumb.
"You know I can't do... this."
He nodded. "I know. It's okay. Doesn't matter." I love you... He didn't let go of her hand.
"Just as long as you know." She closed her eyes and leaned her head on her arm, just feeling him touch her. Her hair fell over her face and he gently brushed it back with his other hand, staring at her and leaving the obvious unsaid.
"Hey, Trina. Where's Jo?"
"I think she called in sick."
"She's never ben sick before."
Trina shrugged. "What are you gonna' take?"
"Um, fries."
"I thought you learned hamburgers yesterday."
"Jo says I'm a public health hazard if left unsupervised."
"She's kind of weird."
"She's great." Stuart decided to look her address up and go see her after he got off work at nine, just to make sure she was okay. Josephine needed him. If not him, she needed someone.
He went outside at break for a minute. The air settled too heavily on his shoulders, though, and he went back into the staff room feeling awkward and alone like a friendless kid at recess. He stared out the window at the sky, whose blue was being encroached upon by thick black clouds. They'd have a storm, at least.
Her apartment was in an area of university housing, a neighbourhood that wasn't well maintained, but not seedy. It was a basic building, no buzz service or even security system. He checked the piece of paper crumpled in his sweaty hand and got on the elevator to the fourth floor. It made ominous noises as it rose. The 'ding' as the doors opened was off-key.
Stuart turned left, them realized that it was the wrong way with the numbers decreasing. He turned back again, looking at the doors. 414, 416, 418, 420. He stood and stared at the black steel number.
"Jo?" he called softly, his voice cracking. There was no answer, which was understandable, since she probably couldn't hear him through a closed door.
He knocked and the door opened.
"Holy shit. Jo?"
The walls were bare, adorned only by a few pieces of wire. The only furniture he could see was a table in the kitchen. He pushed the door all the way open and stepped inside.
The apartment was empty, showing few signs of having ever been lived in. He went down a hall into the bathroom and opened the cupboards. Their only contents were a few stray Q-Tips. There was still a roll of toilet paper sitting on the back of the toilet. He grinned. He hated hanging it on the thingy too.
Stuart was starting to cry. He accepted it rather than fought it. Her leaving seemed so logical to him now that he should have expected it.
He walked across the hall into the bedroom and flicked the light switch. A naked bulb illuminated white walls dotted with sticky tack remnants. He turned around, disbelieving that she could have left so little physical trace of herself. He could somehow feel her there, though, all around him; he could feel that she was sorry.
As he turned, he saw a piece of lined paper taped to the wall. He pulled it off, taking some paint with it, and read.
Stuart:
If you find this, then I want you to know I'm sorry. I can't explain this
and I know you understand that. I couldn't stay any longer than I have- it
doesn't have anything to do with you. If you're worried, don't be. I've
done this before, I'll do it again, and I'll be fine. You won't be able to find
me and I won't be coming back. If I'd been able to fall in love with you, I
would have.
I wish you every heaven on this earth.
Yours truly,
'Jo'
"Stay yourself and nothing less/stay fearless" -MGB
With a crack of thunder, a thousand angels finally started to cry.
*** *** *** ***
"They say that every man bleeds just like me"
But I don't bleed, Josephine thought. Not enough.
The windshield wipers swished a steady rhythm, silver trickles of rain sliding off the glass only to be replaced in a steady downpour, as she clumsily wiped tears off her face with the same futility. She almost always left during storms. The rain washed away her recent past and made her clean and new again, but she wasn't sure if it could absolve her this time. It had been years since anyone had come as close to her as Stuart. Poor angel. I'm so sorry. I know you'll forgive me, and I wish you wouldn't.
Nicky slept in the backseat of the car, snoring softly as the U-Haul trailer rumbled behind the Civic. She liked her car, but she'd trade it in soon, when she got settled in Buffalo. After that... another stretch of numb existence, then a new city, then the same thing, over and over. She'd start staying on the west coast soon. Vancouver and Seattle sounded nice: it was supposed to rain a lot. She didn't know how long she could keep doing this, but it didn't matter. You were right, Stuart- 'doesn't matter'. It doesn't fucking matter, because I have to. Doesn't matter.
"And still I feel the same"
I could never have explained that to you. Or to anyone. Not even to myself.
She couldn't love Stuart because of him. He was everything to her. She almost resented him for it, but she knew it wasn't his fault, or hers. He didn't even know. He had no idea that his soul was the completion of hers; no inkling that he walked as if whole while she existed as a half of something that couldn't be fitted together again. She wondered if he ever laid awake next to a lover and questioned if he was with the right person, but there was no way he could know that he wasn't. What he felt for the girl lying next to him he would call love, and it was love because it was all he knew. It was deep and true and faithful but not eternal; he owed that debt to Josephine. He would 'settle'. It seemed like everyone settled now, so what was the difference? If she'd been able to, she would have. With Stuart. I wouldn't have hurt him- but I had to. And somebody else will too, because that's just how it is, and of all people I wish he could be the one that never finds that out.
"And when your walls come tumbling down
I will always be around
People don't know about the things I say or do
They don't understand 'bout the shit that I been through
It's been so long since I've been home
I've been gone, I've been gone for way too long
Maybe I forgot all the things I miss
Oh, somehow, I know there's more to life than this"
A river of blurry white lights flowed towards her while she was part of the red stream that extended to the horizon. Headlights in the dark and rain were always beautiful- a glowing chain to guide her away, and never home. What was home? There was no place, only him, and without him she was homeless. You can't go home again. She almost laughed at the double meaning the statement carried for her.
There is something more than this, I just can't have it. This is existing. It's not living. If I could end this I would. If I could have stayed with you, I would have. If I could be with him, I would. Doesn't matter, doesn't matter, doesn't matter. My God, do you know how right you were about that? There was so much beauty, everywhere, but it wasn't hers to share- only to see. She couldn't touch anyone or be touched, only watch. But every now and then she almost bridged the gap. Like with you... Stuart, God, I'm sorry...
A few hundred more miles following the red river and she would start over again. Stuart, please be okay. Please stay fearless. Because I didn't.
There was always the chance that everything would suddenly be okay in the next city. A glow of hope emanated from it with the glow of its lights. It would always turn out just the same, but Josephine could convince herself otherwise for the moment. For a few hours, she could pretend that everything was going to be okay.
She turned up the stereo, forced herself to stop thinking, and drove.
"I've said it too many times and I still stand firm
You get what you put in and people get what they deserve
Still I ain't seen mine, no, I ain't seen mine
I've been giving, I just ain't been gettin'
I been walkin' that there line
So I think I'll keep a-walkin', my head held high
I keep movin' on
And only God knows why
Only God, only God,
Only God knows why
Only God knows why, why, why
Only God knows why
Take me to the river
Hey, won't you take me to the river"
(-Kid Rock, "Only God Knows Why" )
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