Marooned in Manhattan (16 page)

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Authors: Sheila Agnew

BOOK: Marooned in Manhattan
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‘O
wwwwwwwww!’ I exclaimed, as I landed
with a heavy bump in a large metal rubbish skip filled with black plastic garbage bags. I scrambled to my feet, slipping on the plastic and rubbing my very sore head. I wondered if I had a bald patch where I’d cut my hair when I got trapped in the chute. My legs were shaking but I didn’t appear to have broken anything. I hauled myself to the top of the skip and peeped over the top. Nobody was in sight. I appeared to be in the basement of the building. I dragged myself up and over the top of the skip, losing the two middle buttons from my cardigan in the process. Letting myself hang down and preparing to drop to the ground on the other side, I thought gratefully of last summer’s tree-climbing practice.

This morning felt like a million light years ago.

I made my way across the basement and opened the heavy steel door cautiously and peered around it. Brilliant. It led directly outside, around the corner from the main entrance to Leela’s office building. I walked out into a day that had turned almost as dark as night and quickly made my way around to the front of the building, where I spotted Kylie and Ben on the corner, hiding behind a plastic and glass
bus-stop
shelter. Kylie waved frantically at me just as a very large and very bald security guard grabbed hold of me. He spun me around to face Leela.

‘That’s the one!’ said Leela to him. ‘She’s the daughter of a client of mine and she stole a tape from my office. Her poor mom doesn’t know what to do with her, she’s been in and out of trouble with the police for stealing since she was seven years old.’

‘That’s all total lies, I swear!’ I said to the security guard, but he didn’t appear to be listening as he was too focused on admiring the sexy lace black camisole that Leela was wearing under her now unbuttoned suit jacket.

‘She’s holding the tape in her hand,’ Leela said to him in a voice that sounded a lot more like a little girl’s than mine did.

The security guard prised open my clenched right fist, retrieved the mini-recorder with the tape still inside and handed it over to Leela.

‘Thank you, officer,’ she said, sweetly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Kylie holding up her hand to her ear in a phone sign. I knew what she was asking. Should she call Scott? I shook my head slightly. She pointed at herself and then at Leela and waited. I nodded my head slightly. Yes, she understood. I stuck out the three middle fingers on my right hand and mouthed the
countdown
. Kylie watched me intently and on three, she sprang into action with a speed that made the purple streak in her hair blur.

‘Owwwwww…’ yelled Leela, as a ninety pound girl-whirl
pushed her with all her might so that Leela landed on her well-rounded backside on the pavement. At the same time, I pulled as hard as I could to free myself from the security guard as Ben launched himself at his ankle.

‘What the hell?’ said the security guard, as Ben’s teeth sank into a painfully fleshy part of his leg, causing the guard to release his grip on me.

‘Run, Evie!’ yelled Kylie, and, grabbing Leela’s bag from the pavement, I pulled out the recorder, tossed the bag back and legged it up the block, catching up with Kylie at the corner.

‘Ben,’ I gasped, looking back. The security guard had got hold of him by his collar and was shaking him like a rat. Ben yelped in pain and frustration.

‘We have to go back for him,’ I said, already running back.

‘Ben!’ I yelled. ‘Ben, come here, boy. You can do it.’

With a superdog effort, Ben slipped his head through his collar and ran up to me and began licking my outstretched hand. The security guard started to run towards us, calling to another guard to ‘go for the little Chinese girl’.

Kylie pulled me by my cardigan. I might as well bin that rag by this stage, I thought. The three of us headed uptown, zigzagging through the crowds, Ben acting like we were in the middle of a glorious game of chasing a cyberball.

‘TAXI!’ screamed Kylie, pointing at a yellow cab just ahead, its door open as a lady in a red bikini top with shorts stepped out. She smiled and held the door open for us. Kylie dived in first, with Ben and me on her heels.

‘77
th
and Central Park West, as quick as you can!’ I gasped.

‘We’re being chased,’ said Kylie, ‘by a racist pig security guard.’

The cabbie turned his turbaned head in our direction.

‘No problem,’ he said, and looking at me, he added, ‘are you ok, kid?’

‘Fine,’ I said, ‘more than fine.’

A
s the cab made its way uptown, the
long-threatened storm finally broke with a magnificent rumble of thunder and a series of dramatically streaked flashes of lightning. There were a couple of moments of eerie stillness when even the yellow taxis stopped honking their horns and then, a whooshing, crashing sound as the rain pounded down.

I pressed my face up against the misty window of the cab. This was completely different to the soft, lazy drizzle of Irish rain. This rain was so heavy that it sounded like it had murder on its mind. We stopped on the east side to drop Kylie off at her mom’s gallery.

Finally, the cab reached home. I dashed down the steps, tore past Karen sitting behind the reception desk, dripped my way down the corridor and reached the examining room, startling Joanna and Angel, the small yellow canary in her hands, which chirped and beat its little wings rapidly.

‘Where’s Scott?’ I panted.

‘Are you training for the marathon, Evie? Scott’s on his way to lunch with Leela.’

‘A special lunch,’ she added.

‘What?’ I said, horrified.

‘Evie, breathe! I didn’t mean to scare you. You should change out of that soaking dress. Apparently, Scott told Jake last night that he was going to break up with Leela today. Jake told Sidney, who told me, and she specifically asked me to tell you; she said it was important that you know.’

‘What?’ I said again, leaning back against the wall.

‘You heard me,’ said Joanna, puzzled. ‘Leela and Scott are no more, or at least, they will be no more by this afternoon.’

I stared at her with my mouth open.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ said Joanna. ‘I’m trying hard not to be too celebratory.’

‘No, no, it’s not that,’ I said. ‘It’s … I have to go.’

‘What happened to your hair?’ asked Joanna. ‘There’s a big clump missing.’

‘Oh, em, it’s a long story. I have to go. See you later,’ I said, backing out the door.

I towel-dried Ben and gave him three slices of salami from the refrigerator. Then I lifted him up, carried him into my room and began to wait for Scott. It felt like the afternoon lasted an entire weekend, the tedium broken only by texting with Kylie and Greg and by keeping Ben’s mind off the storm raging outside my window. I felt nervous about what kind of lies Leela might be telling Scott but I reminded myself over and over that I had the mini-recorder with tape intact.

At last, at around six, Ben perked up his ears, jumped off my bed and headed out the door. I quickly followed. Scott
opened the front door to the apartment, set down a damp brown paper bag of food on the kitchen counter and stooped to greet Ben, scratching him behind the ears.

‘Hi,’ I said, nervously.

‘Hi,’ he said, as if nothing unusual had happened. ‘I’ve got empanadas for dinner, spicy chicken, cheese and chorizo. Take your pick.’

Together we laid out plates and forks and knives and glasses of iced water. It was maddening the way Scott kept
yakking
on about inconsequential things; he was finally going to fix his Harley motorbike, and he needed to order some more heartworm pills for dogs as stock was running low, and would the rains flood the entrance to the basement clinic?

‘How was your day?’ he asked, as we finished eating.

‘Um, ok,’ I said, watching him for a reaction.

He put down his napkin and said, ‘I have something to tell you.’

‘Yes,’ I said, trying not to sound too eager.

‘Leela and I broke up today. It was time.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘are you ok?’

He broke into a lopsided grin.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘I think Leela and I … I think our relationship had run its course. She’ll be much happier with someone who is …’

‘Richer?’ I suggested.

‘I was going to say more like she is, but richer would help.’

‘Did Leela mention me or anything about this morning?’ I asked.

‘No,’ said Scott. ‘What about this morning?’

Now was the time to present the tape from the
mini-recorder
to Scott, but I hesitated. I didn’t need it anymore.

I should give it to him anyway, I thought. I mean, I did go to quite a lot of trouble to get it.

Know when to use your words, I thought.

Know when words are not necessary, another voice echoed in my mind.

‘Mum,’ I said.

‘What?’ said Scott.

I smiled at him.

‘I was just thinking about Mum,’ I said. ‘I think Janet was right. I think Mum watches over me sometimes.’

‘And is she happy about you going back to Ireland?’ he asked.

‘No!’ I said, immediately, and I knew that was true.

‘So, your mum would want you to stay, and Leela is out of our lives for good. How about you reconsider and decide to stay?’ asked Scott.

I stared down at my plate with one, lonely, half-eaten empanada left, and I had a horrible, panicky thought.

‘Scott, you didn’t break up with Leela because of me, did you?’

Scott laughed.

‘No. I mean, I don’t think you and Leela were destined to be BFFs as Kylie would say, but that was only a small part of it. I have gone out with so many Leelas, I lose track. I thought maybe it was time for change. So, what
do you say about staying?’

He waited, but I said nothing.

He sighed, got up and began clearing away the mess. As I got up to help, I felt a big, empty, hollow cave in my stomach like I hadn’t eaten in weeks.

T
he next morning, my third last morn
ing in America, I found Scott with Finn and his parrot, Kurt, in the examining room.

‘I don’t know what’s up with Kurt. He’s not himself,’ said Finn.

‘Birds often try to hide their illnesses, because in the wild a sick bird can get pushed out of the flock,’ said Scott. ‘Try to think about what you mean when you say he is not himself.’

‘Well,’ said Finn, thoughtfully, ‘he’s lethargic and he seems a little off balance. He has stopped being rude to people. It’s probably nothing but a big waste of your time.’

‘No,’ said Scott. ‘It’s never a waste of my time. You did the right thing bringing him in. Let’s take a look. Can you take him out of his cage for me?’

The phone in the reception room rang and rang without Karen answering it.

‘Evie, can you get it?’ asked Scott.

I galloped up the corridor to the reception area and picked up the phone. The caller wanted to make an appointment to get her cat spayed. I took down all the details impatiently, and scheduled the appointment. As soon as I hung up, the
phone rang again. It was a man with a hoarse voice, asking if we sold exotic fish.

‘Sorry, this is a veterinary practice,’ I told him. ‘Try a pet store,’ and I hung up.

When I finally made it back to the examining room, Finn’s face was blank and his mouth was set in a hard, straight line. He thanked Scott and he left with Kurt, only barely saying goodbye to me.

Scott began to scrub down the table.

‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘What’s wrong with Kurt?’

Scott put the rag down.

‘Pacheco’s disease. It’s a virus.’

‘But he’s going to be okay, right?’ I asked.

‘I don’t know,’ he answered. ‘Pacheco’s disease is usually fatal, but there has been some success with a drug called acyclovir, so we are treating him with that. We’ll have to wait and see.’

‘Oh,’ I said, ‘but where there’s life, there’s hope, you know, like Joanna says.’

‘There’s always hope, Evie, but I’m not going to lie to you. It’s not likely that Kurt will survive. If he makes it through the night, I asked Finn to bring him back in the morning.’

‘Isn’t there anything more we can do? I asked. ‘Can I do something? Anything?’

Scott shook his head.

‘I wish there was, Evie.’

The rest of the day dragged. I ping-ponged between Scott and Joanna, pestering them with more and more questions
and arguments like, ‘if Kurt is still alive
now
, does that mean he’s going to make it?’ and half an hour later, ‘if Kurt is still alive
now
, does that mean he’s going to make it?’

Finally, Scott got exasperated.

‘Evie, I don’t know, I can’t know. We have to wait.’

‘I think he’s going to make it,’ I announced.

‘Kurt is a very, very sick parrot,’ Scott replied.

Although Finn never talked much about Kurt, I knew he loved him. I remembered my first night in New York, how alone and unloved I felt and how Ben’s warm presence
comforted
me. It didn’t seem important anymore that Finn didn’t like girls like me who think too much. I shifted from pestering Scott and Joanna to bugging Greg.

‘Please text me an update every half an hour,’ I begged.

I went to bed early to try to make the next morning come around faster, but I couldn’t sleep.

At about nine-thirty, Scott knocked softly on my door.

‘Evie, are you awake?’

‘Yes,’ I called out, sitting up in bed and switching on the bedside lamp. As soon as I saw Scott’s face, I felt like putting my pillow over my head, because I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

‘Finn called. Kurt died about half an hour ago.’

‘I can’t believe it,’ I said.

But I could believe it. I punched my pillow.

‘I think Kurt is the only pet that Finn ever had. It’s not fair.’

Scott sat down beside me on the bed, and for a few
moments, we stayed in silence, each of us thinking our own thoughts.

‘Finn’s sure that Kurt is dead, right? I mean, he’s not just in a deep sleep.’

‘Kurt’s gone, Evie,’ said Scott.

I hunched my knees up and wrapped my arms around them and rocked slightly back and forth, an old habit from when I was little.

‘Mum’s dead,’ I said loudly.

‘Yes,’ said Scott.

‘She’s not coming back, you know,’ I whispered.

‘No, she’s not,’ he said, quietly.

‘It’s so not fair,’ I said.

‘It’s not fair,’ he agreed.

‘Evie, it’s not your fault.’

I felt a wave, a giant tidal wave, a tsunami of grief welling up deep inside me and I hid my face on Scott’s new
baby-blue
cotton shirt. Soon I noticed it felt damp and no longer crisp, but sodden and wrinkled, but Scott didn’t mind. He hugged me until my tears stopped running, which was a very long time.

And when I had finished and blew my nose and
hiccupped
a little and wiped my face with some tissues, he said, ‘Get some sleep,’ and I slept.

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