CHAPTER 11
Markus sat at the tiny wood table next to the bathtub that was next to the water heater that was next to the front door. I was on the couch across from him, pretending to sleep but with one eye open just enough to watch him. It was early the next morning, a little after six, and he’d just gotten home. He stared at the wall, his eyes glassy, his head bobbing side to side. I didn’t know if he was wasted or just tired from being up all night. Lee insisted that he was harmless, just filled with a lot of disappointment and hot air, but I wasn’t taking any chances. If he even took one step toward me, I’d scream. I didn’t care if I woke up the entire block.
He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth falling open. He had a scruffy black beard, mustache, and dark, curly hair that covered his head, the tops of each hand and knuckle. He wore heavy, scuffed black boots with a dark green bandana tied around his right ankle, a tight white T-shirt, and a brown blazer, ragged around the cuffs and collar.
I could tell by the way his chest rose and fell that he’d fallen asleep. Ben could easily fall asleep like that, too. But this was all they had in common.
I glanced at the small window above the sink. A thin streak of light shone through it, puncturing the air in the middle of the room and falling across the baseboard on the far wall. Even in the middle of the day it was always so dark in here. Would more windows help? The apartment needed everything—paint, carpet, and appliances. The furniture was old and falling apart—holes in the cushions and chairs missing backs. How many times had Lee found cockroaches in her shoes?
At least she was getting out. Today. In a few hours. I’d been hounding her to leave for months, since the last time they were burglarized. She’d lost three hundred dollars—why hadn’t she taken that money to the bank?—and a new Walkman. I didn’t know how she found her new apartment, maybe the same way she found the others. Through friends of friends of friends. Lee wasn’t excited about it, she kept saying the new place was too sterile, but anything was better than this.
Lee walked out of her bedroom, dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt, both I recognized from college. Her legs were skinny and bird-like; the muscles had shrunk. It was too hard to run in the city, she always said. Thank God she wore flip-flops. Who knew what she’d catch walking barefoot on this floor.
Markus jerked awake and slapped his hands on the table. He watched as Lee walked to the sink and filled a glass of water. Last night, on his way down when we met him on the stairs, he smirked at me and said, “The princess has arrived.”
Such a jerk.
“So this is it,” Markus said. “You’re leaving.”
“Yep,” she said. “In two hours.”
“There’s still time for you to kiss me,” he said. “Tina isn’t home yet and Princess over there is still asleep.”
My heartbeat quickened but I didn’t move.
Lee drank the water, washed the glass with a sponge and soap, and put it back in the cabinet. Her actions were slow and steady, as if she hadn’t heard him. Or maybe she was used to it. Maybe he said this kind of thing all too often.
“That bedroom better be clean before you go,” he said. “I think I’ll do the white glove treatment. You know, if a speck of dust shows up on my glove you have to clean all over again.”
“You don’t own a white glove,” Lee said.
“The bathroom, too,” he said.
“I’ve cleaned the bathroom the last four times,” she said.
“I don’t remember that. The kitchen needs cleaning, too.”
Lee turned to the sink and filled it with soapy water. Then she began washing the dirty plates and glasses that were stacked on the counter. This wasn’t her mess—she’d told me this last night—so what was she doing?
“You’re sexy when you clean,” he said. “It counters that awkward tomboy look. Maybe you should try a little harder. Buy a push-up bra. I could help. I—”
I sat up.
“She’s awake!” Markus reached for a pill bottle, opened it, and pulled out a joint. He lit it and passed it to Lee. She hesitated and glanced at me before shaking her head. He arched his eyebrows in surprise and handed it to me. “You need it, sweetie. It’ll help loosen you up.”
“You’re such an asshole.” I pulled the sheet across my lap and folded my arms. He was a loser, too; a bouncer in a bar in Chelsea? What kind of future was there in that?
He grunted, tipped back in the chair, and took a drag on the joint. I frowned at Lee. Why didn’t she tell him off? Was she getting high with him in the mornings? And why was she doing their dishes?
I heard footsteps in the hall, a key in the lock, and then Tina opened the door. She was tall with thick hips, long, kinky brown hair, and giant, round glasses that sat on the tip of her nose. She was homely and attractive at the same time and I was so intimidated that I could barely speak around her. I flinched when she threw her bag onto a chair and kicked her sandals into her bedroom.
“Really, Markus? This early?” She pointed to the joint.
He shrugged. “It helps me sleep.”
She grunted at me and turned to Lee, who was rubbing her soapy hands along the sides of her running shorts. Half of the clean dishes sat upside down on a dishtowel next to the sink. The other half was still in the sink. Tina began counting on her fingers. “You’ve got the deposit, you’ve put in a change of address form, and you’ll leave the keys when you finish moving out.”
Lee nodded. “I think we’re all set.”
The room was so small and tight that I felt high just breathing the air. Or maybe I was still a little unnerved by Markus. And Lee’s lack of reaction to him.
“How was work?” Lee asked.
“I spent two fucking hours working on an article about Benazir Bhutto that was riddled with errors and then they pulled it at the last minute. But thank you for asking.” She shook her hair out of her face and loosened the belt around her waist.
“Benazir who?” Markus asked.
“Possibly Pakistan’s next prime minister,” Lee said. “The first woman.”
I looked at her. How did she know that?
“At least Lee reads the paper every day.” Tina glared at Markus, picked up her bag, and walked into her bedroom. Then she stuck her head back out. “Good luck, Lee. Markus, are you coming?”
“In a minute.” He held the joint between his lips and folded his arms. He was trying to prove something by staying, either to Tina or Lee or possibly to me. But I was no longer quite so afraid of him. Lee was right. He was full of hot air. I couldn’t imagine why Tina kept him around.
“Let’s get breakfast,” Lee said to me. “Jimmy won’t be here until eight thirty.”
“Sure,” I said.
“What about me? Do I get to have breakfast, too?” Markus took the joint out of his mouth and blew a smoke ring above him.
“Goodbye, Markus,” Lee said. “Have a nice life.”
I was fairly certain that she was sincere.
“Markus! Fucking get in here!” Tina screamed from behind her door.
He frowned as he jammed the end of the joint into a flowered saucer, chipped along the rim, on the table. Then he stood, pulled down the sleeves of his blazer, and slipped into the room. The door clicked when he shut it, then locked. Sex could be the only reason Tina wanted him and that felt completely repulsive to me.
Lee turned back to the sink and stuck her hands in the soapy water.
“What are you doing?” I jumped off the couch and hurried over to her. “Let’s just go. They’re both jerks, especially him. Don’t do their dishes.”
“It’s okay,” she said. “I don’t mind.”
“Well, you should mind!” I hissed. “He treats you like shit. What was all of that crap about kissing him? Does he say that to you all the time?”
“Don’t be so loud,” she said. “They’ll hear you. And it’s not a big deal. He’s just kidding around.”
“I don’t care if they hear me!” I said. “He has a girlfriend. And it’s abusive the way he treats you. How can you not see that?”
Her hands were hidden in the suds and her arms weren’t moving. She turned to me, her lips parting. Three long worry lines stretched across her forehead.
“Abusive?” she whispered finally.
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Sometimes I don’t know what’s real and what’s not real,” she said. “Like I’m living in a dream and I see what’s going on around me but I can’t react. Or maybe it’s that I don’t feel anything. I don’t know. It’s like I’m still there. But not there.”
Still where, in the dream? I stared at the faint purple scar that ran down the middle of her upper lip. The health center doctor said it would heal and the scar would eventually disappear but he’d been wrong. Dead wrong. I hated when she talked about living in a dream because I didn’t understand it. And it scared me. Lee was better, wasn’t she? She wasn’t still there, wherever there was. We were in New York. We were going to breakfast. And this afternoon we were going to Chicago.
“You’re not doing their dishes.” I pulled her hands from the sink and handed her a napkin. A fresh towel would have been better but this was the best her apartment could offer. “Come on.”