Month: September 2024

They’d been sitting in silence for ten minutes, listening to the woodland critters come to life around them. In the dimming evening light, Anvi searched the space before her for details that may indicate a hiding threat: rustling of the trees afar to signify a hiding bear or the stirring of water to indicate the presence of some hidden sea monster. The scene remained  tranquil before her, to her dismay. She needed chaos to stir the restless souls trapped in her body, squished between organs and muscle. Something to cause a ripple across the flat surface. She looked to her right, where her present company sat with eyes closed, no doubt soaking in the serenity of the scene as if it were some life force. For a moment, she wondered if she could agitate him into disrupting the stillness, heckle him until he shoved her into the lake or kissed her on the mouth. She’d take either one.  It wouldn’t work, Anvi knew. Isaac was an immovable object. Nothing Anvi could do would provoke any response from him. 

As if in response to this mute frustration, Isaac spoke, “Have you found what you’re looking for?” 

“No.” 

Isaac peered down at Anvi. 

“I think it’s the monotonous pattern that will get to you first.” Anvi concluded, “Damn rat race.”

“No.”

“No?”

“It’s the realization that you’ve caved.” Isaac looked at Anvi with defeated eyes, “The knowledge that you could’ve pulled yourself out if you’d just – resisted.”

“And you think that would’ve worked?”

“Honestly,” Isaac dragged in another breath before returning, “I couldn’t tell you. But if you didn’t try, you have noone to blame but yourself.” 

Anvi let the words settle. “This isn’t what we’re made for.”

Isaac let out a monosyllabic laugh.“Made for?” 

“But of course, you think this is all incidental.” 

Isaac said nothing. 

“I’m not saying you’re wrong.” Anvi started

“But?”

Anvi smiled, “But if it’s all incidental anyway, why do we have to stick with the laid out plan?”

“Why?” Isaac’s brows furrowed, “See a way out do you? I’d gladly follow if you lead.” 

Anvi frowned. “I’ll find a way out.” Her voice sounded small. 

Isaac smiled weakly.

“I will.” Anvi insisted.

“Sure, sweetie.”

“And when I find it, I’ll come back to take you with me.” 

The skies turned from a deep tangerine to a duller lavender. Mosquitoes were emerging from their dwelling, in search for fresh blood to feed on. Anvi had her shawl wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

“Cold?” Isaac asked. 

“I’m ok.” Anvi shook off stiffly.

“Hmm.” Isaac stood, “I’m getting a bit chilly. So I might head home.” 

Anvi bit back a frown. 

“C’mon.” Isaac half out a hand, “Well play a game of chess before calling it a night.” 

“Don’t wanna play.” Anvi mumbled, but took Isaac’s hand nonetheless. 

“It’ll be fun.”

“I’m just tired.” 

“C’mon, Talia will worry and I don’t want to earn a reputation with her.” 

The drive back from the lake to Anvi’s home was uneventful. Anvi watched the trees slip by. 

“What are you thinking?” Isaac  asked 

“I’m just  glad to be living in a place where greenery was just so readily available.” Anvi said. 

“Yeah?”

“I lived in the city for a while, growing up, before Talia and I could afford a place with a lawn and all that.”

Talia and Anvi once lived at an apartment in downtown that was so locked in concrete that their apartment would often go days without visible daylight. Anvi was sure there must’ve been some urban planning law that was violated by such construction. The building was so old and so forgotten by those who might take issue with complaints related to improper urban planning. Nonetheless, it was a roof over their head, and an affordable roof. 

“Talia had been a waitress at the time,” Anvi said. A woman of only twenty seven with a five year old niece to feed. Anvi was surprised by how detailed her memory of that time in her life was. “I remember I’d sit at the counter, coloring after kindergarten until Talia’s shift ended.”

“That was just- allowed?”

“Yeah, it was a mom and pop shop and the couple that owned the place adored us. The Stephenson. Their grandkids never came to visit so we were kind of the closest thing they had to family.” Anvi wondered if Mr. And Mrs. Stephenson were still well. They were so old when Anvi was so little. “In a way, they were our only family too.” 

A short silence passed. Anvi kept her eyes on the passing trees. She noted that Isaac drove carefully, not going more than a couple of miles over the speed limit. “You’re a safe driver.” 

“I try.”

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a safe driver.”

“No?” Isaac challenged, “Why is that?”

Anvi shrugged. “Talia tells me I live my life like I’m made of china.” 

“Talia drives like a madman.” 

Anvi laughed. “How would you know?” 

“I saw the giant dent on the front bumper of her Toyota.”

“Ohh, that.” Anvi said, sheepishly, “Yeah that was me.” 

“No.”

“Yeah.”

“I have gotta know how that happened.” 

Anvi peered up at Isaac, trying to decide if he was getting ready to laugh at her. There was a smirk playing coyly across his face, waiting to grow, “That might be a story for another day.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense.” 

“Another day, Isaac.”

Isaac sighed, “Fine.” 

Anvi took a moment before saying,  “It’s a little embarrassing, but sometimes I overthink things and it gets me into more trouble.” The silence that followed remained Anvi’s to fill, “I kinda don’t want you to know how messy I am just yet. Is that ok?”

“Yeah, Anvi. That’s ok.”

All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil 

Anvi followed the sound of gliding music to the open auditorium. She descended the room to the piano and sat in the first row to watch Isaac play. He paid her no mind, enjoying the melody as it spiraled in a graceful waltz. When it came to an end, he didn’t look up. 

“How do you play like that?” she murmured to herself, but the larger room carried the echo. 

He looked up, for the first time acknowledging his company,“Practice.”

She sighed,“I practice. I used to compete actually. And I play pretty well when I’m on my own, but it’s not the same in front of people.”

He peered down at her, quizzical eyes forming a plan,“Come sit with me.”

She thought to deny his request, but couldn’t think of any excuse that made sense. It was painfully obvious what would happen next: he’d challenge her to play in a way her pride couldn’t resist, then scrutinize her when she inevitably fails to meet his expectations. Nonetheless, she obliged. 

“Care to play me something?” He didn’t slide off of the bench, just over to the edge to give her space. It was long enough for the both of them, but too close to Anvi’s comfort. 

“Sure.” Anvi hovered her fingers over the keys, feeling sweat drip to their tips.“Just don’t laugh if I fumble.”

“Then don’t fumble.”  

Anvi didn’t fumble, and she was half sure it was out of spite. It wasn’t nearly as graceful as when he played, but she didn’t fumble and for that she was grateful. When she was done, she looked up at him, expectantly, sure he might criticize her playing. 

“You’d probably enjoy an audience more if you weren’t nervous.”

“Really?”

“I’m gonna get in your head. Then I want you to play as well as you can. Keep playing until you get through it without fumbling.”

“I didn’t fumble.”

“You will.” He assured.“Can I get in your head?”

“Go ahead and try.” Anvi challenged peering back up at Isaac. She wasn’t nearly as intimidating as she’d like to be, but she amended herself for maintaining eye contact. 

His eyes were black to their core, almost as if there were no margin between pupil and iris. His expression held less attention than an apathetic stare into the space through her. Gail wondered how long she’d have to hold eye contact before he got into her head. 

“Are you burrowing into my subconscious yet or—”

 “When you start playing, do you take a breath in or out on the first note?”

“Out.” She returned. 

“How many stumbling notes do you forgive before you get frustrated and start over?”

“About three.”

“Such short patience. It must have been difficult being raised by a cold mother.”

“My aunt made me cookies when I cried.”

“Rewarding failure. That explains a lot.”

“You should know.”

“How’d you do on that last math test?”

“That’s personal.”

“So you failed?”

“No.”

“Then why won’t you say—”

“Because it’s personal.” Anvi repeated flatly. 

A shadow of a smile grew across Isaac’s face. “I can tutor you. I did well.”

“What’s the catch?”

“I want your lunch money.”

“But I’ll starve.”

“That’s the idea.”

“You don’t need the money?”

“MaybeI like seeing you suffer.”

“Kinky. You should see me do math.”

“So you’re failing.”

“I’m not. It’s just painful.”

“Masochistic addiction? Now who’s kinky?”

“Still you.”

“You think so?” He raised a brow. 

“No—Do you?” It was stupid. She fumbled, just as Isaac had predicted she would. 

He said nothing in reply, just shook his head, smirking, and turned back to the keys.“Play.”

Anvi played, reading the notes carefully while paying mind to her fingers. Half way through the song, she became aware of the pace at which she was reading the notes and wondered if her fingers could keep up. 

No. Don’t fumble—

“Do it again.” Isaac snapped when Anvi’s fingers inevitably slipped. 

“I said I permitted myself three fumbles.”

“Well I’ll give you none.” Isaac said impassively, “Do it again.”

Anvi started over. This time, she tried to pay less mind to the notes, paying attention to her fingers instead. It was a mistake as the notes were not committed to memory as of yet. She fumbled before she got to the second line. 

“Again.” 

When she tried to focus on the notes and her fingers, she managed to make it further, but not to completion. She tired again, starting at the wrong key. Again, she tried, but her sweaty fingers slipped. Then she briefly forgot what scale to start on. When she got the scale right, her mind felt too scattered to continue. 

“I can’t do it.” She felt her eyes sting.

“Then fail.”

“No.”She sniffed. Breathed deeply and tried again. Her fingers glided over the keys, and she allowed them to carry themselves without thinking much about it. She feared that if she thought about it, she’d fail. When she realized she hadn’t fumbled yet, she panicked, stopping dead in her tracks before she had the chance to make a mistake. She started again, but this time she fumbled within the first thirty seconds. Her balled fists stuck the keys. 

She sat still, holding her breath to calm her pulse for several minutes. She could feel her company paying her no mind. He might have been staring at the clock on the wall for all she knew. After the silence between them stretched uncomfortably, he asked, “May I play?”

She sniffed,“Go ahead.”

Anvi listened to the melody built gradually in soothing circles. His slender fingers glide over the keys effortlessly. His pale knuckles shifted like pedals in a machine. It was like he was programmed with all of the right steps. When he finished, he looked down at her and said,“Meet me at 4:30 at the library everyday. I can help you.”

“They don’t have a piano.” Anvi shook her head. 

For a moment, he looked down incredulous, “You know how to play, Anvi.” He shook his head,“But that math class isn’t gonna pass itself.” 

She blinked. 

“Bring your textbook with you.” He turned back to the keys,“Now leave. I want to be alone.”

All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil 

Gail walked up the stairs to the lobby, to get away from the noise. The dimmed lights gave the area the appearance of an office space after hours, perhaps one of a lawyer or a mob boss, someone who can afford to have leather furniture. 

The noise of festivities died down behind Gail. Silence greeted her like familiar company, not quite comforting, but far enough from the restless panic she had been running from. So it was welcomed. 

Everyone was glad to see her tonight, or at least if they weren’t they put up good appearances. It was unnerving. Noone should be that happy, not to greet a stranger. It made her feel that she had no control over her good name, not even as far as keeping it good. If the collective vote swayed against her in a week, she just might have no influence over that decision. 

For a moment, Gail considered sulking. 

Am I gonna cry?

It was better to do it in solitude, anyway. She looked at the vacant furniture, armchairs and a lone sofa, and imagined them occupied. It was silly. If she wanted company, she should go downstairs. She could probably slide right into a conversation and no one would have noticed that she left the room. There was so much noise and chaos, enough to fill any vacancy that became available. In a way, it wouldn’t have mattered if Gail couldn’t hold a conversation because someone would and Gail would be welcome to sit in her muteness amongst the friendly faces all the same.    

I guess I am gonna cry. 

Gail leaned against a couch and sucked in a deep breath, then sighed, not holding back on the melodrama of it all and watched a baby roach make its way into a gap between the floor tiles. If she’d stepped on it rather than gawking at it, the building would have one less roach, and who knows, maybe that roach will grow up to be the mother of a whole army of roaches that would eventually infest the building, if it isn’t already infested. Gail wondered if she’d still be here for that to happen. 

What’s the lifespan of a roach anyway? If it was anything more than a year, the roach would outlast her. 

“Gail.”

Gail turned to find she had company, another familiar face, and felt a defensive smile cross her face almost impulsively. 

Griffin sat peering up from his sketchbook at her curiously. He nodded once. 

“Why aren’t you downstairs?” Gail asked. 

“I can ask you the same.”

Gail saw his sketchbook resting on the cushion beside him. 

“Did you draw a pretty picture?”

He only shrugged. 

“Do you remember how we met?”

“Pardon?”

Gail shook her head,“I’ve been feeling existential tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what I look like to other people.”

Griffin nodded at the armchair next to him,“How did we meet Gail?”

Gail obliged. “I remember feeling stupid.” Gail said, “I can’t even remember what I said, but I know I felt stupid saying it. And you just had that knowing smile on your face like it didn’t surprise you that you flustered everything that can breathe.” 

 Griffin rolled his eyes. 

“You had this warm kindness to you, like you were patience personified.” Gail continued, “I don’t think I know how to replicate that.”

He was frowning, thoughtfully, and Gail wished she could look half as sharp as he did even if she had to try. 

 “There was that song that I was listening to on my way to the café that morning.” Gail said, “I didn’t really have an opinion on it, but then it became your song and I couldn’t stop listening to it for two weeks.”

“Love sick child.” Griffin scoffed. 

“You know, I still listen to that song sometimes, when I need to remember how to find the warmth in blue.”

All rights reserved © 2024 Josephine Joyil