Authors: Gloria Bello
Julian hangs up the phone and tosses it into the dash compartment, slamming the lid shut. For a long time, he glares out on the parking lot, watching the people moving through their lives in an early July afternoon, just starting to heat up. A woman dragging a small, screaming boy by his arm while pushing another baby in its stroller, a dead glaze in her eye. An obese, bald man in stained jeans, talking on his phone and eating a sandwich as he waddles to his beaten, old white truck, its bed packed full of metal bars and broken wood. Two young Latinas in white sweat pants and tank tops, eating frozen yogurt as they head into the Starbucks. He watches them without seeing, seething from his lack of control, from impending doom.
I’
ll never be one of them again, no matter where I go or what I do, he thinks. He watches the door swing open and the girls walk in, as Alice comes out with two large cups. Her hair is nearly dried and free in the wind, whipping about her. Her face is determined, hard, strong. Everything about her is strong, from her thick frame to the burn in her eyes. She belongs nowhere else and yet not in this scene at all. She climbs in the car in one, smooth motion and hands him a giant, iced drink.
“
I
t’
siced green tea. Non-sweetened. My favorite
.
”
He takes the drink and flashes her a quick smile. Too quick, she sees right through it and frowns.
“
Wha
t’
s wrong
?
”
“
Nothin
g’
s wrong
.
”
“
Something is. I can tell. Do you want to tell me
?
”
He sucks in the green tea and instantly feels its cool soothing.
“
This is good, yo
u’
re right
.
”
She gives him a half smile and shrugs, starting the car
.“
Okay. You do
n’
t have to. But if you want to talk about it, you can.
I’
m a good listener
.
”
“
Thanks. Tha
t’
s rare to come by.
I’
ll keep it in mind. Where are we going
?
”
“
Wel
l…
I was
n’
t kidding when I said I had errands to run. I do. But now
I’
m a little concerned about your whole being seen in public thing. Is it going to be a problem
?
”
“
No, no it wo
n’
t. I mean, I do
n’
t think it will
.
”
“
Yo
u’
ll let me know if it is, right
?
”
“
Definitely
.
”
“
Good. The last thing we need is you getting mobbed by a bunch of tweenies. I ca
n’
t hold my own against that kind of hormonal tornado
.
”
He laughs again.
“
That would be something.
I’
m not quite tweenie-mob status yet, I think. Give me another year
.
”
“
I
t’
s an aspiration, though, right? Like, top priority on your bucket list
?
”
“
Oh, yeah. Right at the top, right after frontal lobotomy. My agen
t’
s working furiously to make it a reality for me. A few more moves of his and I wo
n’
t be able to move at all
.
”
“
Tha
t’
s crazy
,
” she says
,“
I ca
n’
t imagine that. Not being able to do whatever you want, wherever you want. Plus, yo
u’
re super huge so you totally stick out in a crowd as it is
.
”
“I’
m not super huge
,
” he laughs.
“
Um, yeah, you are. Way bigger than I thought you would be
.
”
“I’
m only
6’
2. Yo
u’
re just
-
“ he stops himself and smiles into his drink. She looks at him in mock outrage.
“
What?!What am I
?
”
“
You know
.
”
“
No, what
?
”
“
Shorter. On the shorter side
.
”
“
I am
not
short
!
”
“
A little bit
.
”
“
That is a total and complete load. I am the perfect height for a Latina woman,
I’
ll have you know. This is a normal, healthy height for my kind. Yo
u’
re just use to being around pencil thin, waifymodels from Switzerland, strutting around on 6 inch heels like ridiculous birds let out of their cages
.
”
“I’
m sorry, yo
u’
re right. Yo
u’
re not short
.
”
“
Tha
t’
s right
.
”
“
Everyone else is just abnormally, monstrously tall in comparison
,
” he grins.
She shoots him an evil look and smirks.
“
Yo
u’
re asking for it
.
”
“
So what bills you have to pay
?
”
“
Le
t’
s see
,
” she says, tapping the steering wheel
,“
I have to pay my electric and my rent. And hopefully pick up my car
.
”
“
Is it ready
?
”
“
Hopefully. Cross your fingers. S
o…
small talk, yes? Where you from
?
”
He swallows, fighting the urge to switch into his interview voice and list of pre-scripted answers. He glances at the girl, gnawing on her straw as she swerves in and out of traffic at full speed. There is nothing devious or manipulative in her manner or question. But, for a brief moment, he wonders what he is doing in the car, in the passenger seat, with this total stranger and her whim. And he wonders, were his persona not already known by her, would she have agreed to meet with him. Something about her calm, natural charisma makes him think it would be an even more likely scenario.
“
Um, all over. Mainly Pennsylvania, though. You
?
”
“
Me?
I’
m from the Bay Area. Oakland
.
”
“
Oaklan
d
…” he says, making a face.
“
Yes, Oakland
,
” she laughs.
“
Do
n’
t be scared. I
t’
s not like you see on the news
.
”
“
What is it like
?
”
“
I
t’
s like home. I
t’
s lik
e…
everybod
y’
s tough, but humble and loving. I
t’
s family, even when i
t’
s not blood. The people you are tight with, you stay tight with and know everything about, and vice versa. Lots of progressive thinking and a strong sense of community. Yeah, it can be a dangerous place, but that danger also brings us together
.
”
He is surprised at the eloquence of the answer, and quickly realizes that his preconceived notions of the girl were prejudiced. She glances at him and smirks again.
“
Let me guess, you did
n’
t expect an intelligent response
.
”
“
No, tha
t’
s not it
,
” he lies.
“
I just never thought of it that way
.
”
“
Why would you? You do
n’
t know anything about it. You were
n’
t born and raised there. Tha
t’
s the great thing about getting to know people. You get to live through them. What was Pennsylvania like? Are the Amish as clammy as they seem
?
”
He laughs again and pushes his sunglasses up his long nose.
“
Clammy
?
”
“
Yeah, you know. Uptight and nervous about things like running water and electricity
.
”
“
Not everyone in Pennsylvania is Amish. Tha
t’
s such a clic
h
é stereotype, and I totally resent it
,
” he smiles.
“
Really? I thought everyone from Pennsylvania drove around in bonnets and buggies. Yo
u’
re telling me i
t’
s not true? For reals?Ma
n…
my eyes are wide shut. Nothin
g’
llever be the same
.
”
“
Are you always such a smart ass
?
” he laughs.
“
No. Sometimes I change it up with passive-aggressive disdain. Gottakeep people on their toes. So, what was it like
?
”
“
O
h…
I do
n’
t know. Cold, beautiful, lots of farmlan
d…
we were
n’
t there most of the time. We moved around a lot when I was a kid. And I was on my own once I turned 18, living in New York
.
”
“
Wha
t’
s
that
like
?
”
“
What
?
”
“
New York, wha
t’
s it like
?
”
“
Yo
u’
ve never been
?
” he asks, genuinely shocked.
“
N
o…
never.
I’
ve always wanted to go but it just, never really came about. Fundageissues, mainly.
I’
ve always wanted to like, just go on a pilgrimage to every museum and gallery there, absorbing all the art
I’
ve only seen in books and magazines in person. Wha
t’
s it like
?
”
“
I
t’
s incredible. It never stops, ever. Ther
e’
s no rest for your eyes or brain, it feels like the city is actually alive and plowing through you, constantly. Like, even when
I’
d chill and do nothing, there was always something happening around me. It was like a dream sometimes, especially when shit started taking off. You have to be confident and focused, so much so that you do
n’
t even have time to question yourself. I love it
.
”
“
You need that kind of constant stimulus
?
”
“
Yeah, yeah I do
.
”
“
So then, yo
u’
re a total workaholic
?
”
He laughs and nods.
“
Some people have called me that, yeah. I do
n’
t think of it that way, though. For me, acting is art,i
t’
s making something come alive. I
t’
s the only thing I feel truly, absolutely right about
.
”
“
I feel that way, too! Not about actin
g…
about painting. I will literally work until the sun comes up and keep going, and then take a shower and go to my actual job. I
t’
s addictive. Sometimes I feel like a junky
.
”
“
Yep! Totally
,
” he nods.