Marci leads the way up the stairs, I’m in the middle and Dave follows up
the rear. I am now positive than ever that he wants to drop me and leave. He
seems nervous and keeps looking at his watch. I can’t remember if he left the
car running.
As we get closer to the top of the stairs the banister opens up and
creates a landing. My eyes now clear the landing and the smell of unwashed
filth flicks my nose. “On the Dark Side” is now on its third repeat.
As we walk into the landing I can see someone with their back to me standing across the room. He is standing over the stereo slowly listing from side to side. He wears dirty white Keds. His jeans are slightly belled at the bottom; they meet a sweater vest covering a bright orange colored print. The back of his long greasy hair brushes the collar of the shirt and I can hear him mumbling the lyrics along with the record. He nervously pushes his hair behind his ears.
As we walk into the landing I can see someone with their back to me standing across the room. He is standing over the stereo slowly listing from side to side. He wears dirty white Keds. His jeans are slightly belled at the bottom; they meet a sweater vest covering a bright orange colored print. The back of his long greasy hair brushes the collar of the shirt and I can hear him mumbling the lyrics along with the record. He nervously pushes his hair behind his ears.
“Jonathan!” Marci screams over his music. Jonathan’s head bobs up like
he had just nodded off and he begins to turn in my direction. “Huh?” he’s says
as he turns around. It’s more like a slow pan of a camera on the late movie. He
lurches forward and turns clumsily. It is like watching a George Romero Zombie
smelling fresh blood.
When he finally turns around it’s like meeting a George Romero Zombie.
He is slightly hunchbacked and weighing in at 20 pounds. He is filthy. Filthy
hair, filthy clothes and a quick look around tells me it’s a filthy house.
“Huh?” he repeats lurching forward. I gag on the smell. “No way in
motherfucking hell am I going to live here!” I say out loud and I take a step
back. Dave is there to catch me with his hand and push me back into the game. I
step right in front of Jonathan who’s eyes are squinty from being heavily
medicated.
He opens his mouth begins to tell me about John Cafferty and the
Beaver Brown Band. How it’s his favorite, where they have played and who are
the members in the band. His words become a drone and I am again hit with a new
smell of armpits, onions and something I would now describe as dead squirrel.
The needle comes of the record and mechanically starts again. John
Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band start another chorus of “On the Dark Side.”
It is now very clear why Dave wants out. I want out. Marci wants out.
This lumbering, drugged up stinky zombie is to be my new roommate. I am going
to share not only an apartment but a bathroom and a bedroom with him.
I begin to shake. Marci and Dave are stepping away from me. She is
saying things like “I’m sure you’ll get along famously” and “Paperwork” and
“She’ll be right downstairs. By the time she is done Dave is out the door and I
can hear the van come to life.
The last view I have is Marci pulling the door close. I then hear the
jingle of the bell attached to the door. My mind asks me a question it didn’t
ask the first time. “Why is there a bell on the door?”
To be continued………….
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.