Shakedown / Idiosyncratica Sept. Challenge

The Idiosyncratica Challenge for September was to write a 500-word tale on the joys of losing.  A task I found daunting but also fun to write.  Here’s what I came up with.

 

Shakedown

I suddenly feel alone.  

Standing beside the trash cans.  It is not dark yet. A garbage bag lies halfway out of an overstuffed trash can.  The soft wind makes the black plastic flutter like grass on the side of a hill. I place the lid over the mound.  I press down. Half the bulk goes down the metal hollow, the other bulges out, stretching the black into a thin film. 

I see a hang-nail – red flesh peeking underneath; I see stains on the wood floor, a chair with a weak leg.  I shake my head, come back to the present.  “Are your ears ringing?” 

Sofia doesn’t respond, but Nelson, her lover, smirks.  “Didn’t you hear me,” she says, “we’re moving in together.”

“Why?”

“Nelson needs me.”

I imagine Sofia in Nelson’s railroad apartment, fixing his meals, cleaning up the place, maybe even getting a pet with him.

“We could all get a place together,” I say.

“What are you talking about?”  Sofia looks confused.  

“Together we can afford a bigger place.”

“Come on!”  Nelson laughs.

I ignore him.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”  

Sofia looks away.  “Don’t you get it yet?”  She grabs a shopping bag from the kitchen and packs away some of her stuff.  “I’ll pick up the rest later,” she says.  And then they leave.

I run after them, down the steps, shouting her name, but she runs faster.  I slide down the last four steps trying to catch up to them.  In the lobby, I come to a dead stop when she turns around to face me.  

“I can’t believe you,” she says.  Her words hit me like a wet towel across the face.  Nelson  grabs my arm but I jump back.  There’s an older man standing by the mailboxes.  He was in the act of opening his mail, but is now frozen in mid-act.  I forget about him and lunge at Sofia but she’s too quick.  I fall down on my hands and knees.    

“Let’s go.”  Nelson pulls Sofia away.

I wait for her goodbye, but all I hear is the traffic outside.

It’s been two weeks since she left.  During my breaks from work, I think about Sofia and Nelson.  Each time I promise myself it will be the last time.  I read my favorite book for the fiftieth time, Voyage to the Secret Galaxies.  I imagined Sofia and Nelson eating dinner in the back room kitchen of their railroad apartment.  She had always wanted someone to rescue her.  She had always pointed out that the life we were leading wasn’t going to get us anywhere.  There was always a husband, a man who was going to come into her life and give her what she always wanted.  Of course, her plans had never included me.  That was my fantasy.  My own con.  My eyes are slabs of concrete.

I take this in stride.  Sofia’s now Nelson’s responsibility.  He’s now her poor sap.   White flashes and I lose touch.