My Right Toe

  Stupidly, I had bumped my foot into a chair. By night, my big toe was a big red ball throbbing and hurting horribly. My beautiful partner helped me a bit but he was too grossed out by it so I had to take this matter into my own hands. Resisting the pain, I tried to make the blood and pus that had formed when the nail got stuck right into the flesh.

 After along time of moaning and panting, I dried my wound, cleaning it with all kind of products and then putting a bandage al around my toe to keep it free from infection. My sleep was not very good and, the next morning, I saw it still hurt a lot. Before leaving for work, Patrick told me to call Laura, a neighbor that happened to be a nurse. Mondays were her day of and she might be able to help on what to do with my toe.

 I called her on the cell and she came right away. We had helped Laura moving in after divorcing her husband and we had become great friends. Also, she left her daughter with us when she had to stay too late at work and her sister wasn’t able to babysit. The little one was adorable and we liked to have her in order to watch a lot of children movies and give her all kinds of bad and good food.

 After examination, Laura told me to call the pharmacy and ask for something to reduce the swelling of my toe that should be good if I stayed a couple of days at home. It would heal eventually but not if I worked too hard on it, and as my work consisted on walking a lot, this meant I couldn’t go anywhere.

 After Laura left, I called my office in order to tell them I wouldn’t be able to go for a couple of days because of an accident. My partner there got very worried and threatened to come home later and, before I could tell her it was all ok, she had hung up. The drugs from the pharmacy took some time to arrive and it was odd, for me, to receive the deliveryman wearing my pajamas barefoot. I didn’t really like not wearing socks or footwear but Laura had been adamant about it. The man warned me that the pills made you sleepy, which I loved instantly.

 When the man had left, I took one of the pills and swallowed it with a big gulp of water. I had never been very good at taking medicine, even the simplest ones. Maybe it was because my mother was so overprotective when I was little and she kept trying for me to take vitamins and codfish oil. She forced me so often; I think I created an utter dislike for anything that comes from a pharmacy or from a doctor.

 Patrick called shortly afterwards to check on me. I told him I couldn’t move a lot, only applying some hot water on my toe every so often. He sent me a kiss and promised to be there as soon as he could, which I knew was not very soon because he was an assistant in a sports team and those people loved to stay in one place talking and arguing for hours and hours and even if they didn’t have an incoming match, they would discuss all the games they had seen during the weekend, which could take some time.

 I personally didn’t like sports that much but when I met Patrick he tried to make me be a little sportier. He failed tremendously although now I can watch a whole football game without the need to check my phone every five seconds or pretending to go to the bathroom. I do get bored still but I guess love can conquer all differences, if one is committed enough.

 It was funny that when I turned on the TV, a tennis match was on. Then the doorbell rang and, slowly, I walked to the door. Strangely, my foot felt heavier, more swollen even. Didn’t the anti-inflammatory work? It was Laura and her little daughter. The little one was carrying a green backpack and a doll in her arms. They both came in and then Laura started talking fast: apparently her sister had a problem with her car and she had to go and help so she wondered if I could take care of her daughter Amanda.

-       Sure.

 To be quite honest, I don’t really get children that much. I mean, I like Amanda a lot but Patrick is always around when she comes in and he’s such a good guy with kids: he knows lots of games (or maybe his improvisation is really good) and kids like him a lot because his funny and just great.

Me, however, not so much. I mean, I can be creative because it’s part of my job but being a only child and having no close relatives younger than me, I never had the experience to take care of any of them.

 My first idea was to change the channel and put on some cartoons. I had no idea what kids Amanda’s age liked to see. Actually, I realized I had no idea how old she was. So I asked. She was so interested in the cartoon that she only put one hand up, with all her fingers stretched. Then I saw one more on the other hand, that she hadn’t put up. So seven years old.

-       I haven’t had breakfast. Are you hungry?

 She nodded, not really paying attention to what I had said. I went, slowly, to the kitchen. I almost hit a counter in the kitchen with my feet and had to cover my mouth to curse. The kid, luckily, didn’t turn to look at me. Apparently cartoons were much more interesting than the limping man in the apartment.

 After a fast look, I realized we had nothing good for a child to eat. Both Patrick and me ate granola for breakfast and I was sure kids didn’t like that. But I did so I poured some on a bowl with almond milk, because I’m weird that way. I found, at the back of a cupboard, a few cookies covered in chocolate. Was she allowed to have sweets this early in the day?

-       Amanda?

-       Yeah?

-       What would you like to eat?

-       Mm…

 She took quite a long time to say she was rather thirsty. Luckily, we always had plenty of fresh orange juice so I poured some for her on a small glass, which I thought was best for a child. I put it in front of her, in the coffee table, but I didn’t know if she had seen me. Her eyes looked as if she had been hypnotized or something. Then, the doorbell rang again.

 Apparently the doorman let anyone in, as it was a man handling pamphlets for a new Chinese restaurant. I told him we only needed one menu but he forced a bunch on my hands. As I couldn’t move, that was most probably a crime, or so I thought. I closed the door but then it was the intercom ringing. My toe was throbbing more than ever when I answered: we had bought a new dining table and I had totally forgotten about it.

 So for the following thirty minutes, I had a child drinking juice and watching TV, two men trying to get everything in the tiny elevator and then out, a bunch of useless restaurant menus and a toe hurting like mad. I was already cursing my luck when an older lady, a neighbor, came to complain about the noise the guys from the furniture store were making. I tried to be nice but then the old bat put her cane right on top of my foot.

 I don’t know if it was on purpose but I pushed the lady aside and made her fall on a chair by the door. Then the man in the living room dropped the table heavily, scaring the life out of Amanda, who screamed loudly and starting crying noisily. The man dragged the chairs in, as I helped the old lady up. I then screamed at them for damaging my floor and the lady fell again and I almost fell with her but apparently faith hates my foot as one of the guy’s dropped a chair right on it.

 I cursed so loud and hard everyone stopped making a noise and just stared at me, like I was mad or something. Then, I saw Patrick’s face and he was visibly confused by everything.

-       I got the day off… What’s going on?

 Behind him was Victoria, my partner at the office. She looked worried.

 Done with the world, I just decided to fall onto the sofa and let him deal with everything. Finally, with a huge pain on my foot and the sounds of people crying and screaming and talking again, I fell asleep. The medications had kicked in.

Unexpected

  Somewhere, a clock announced time. The sound came from somewhere near but not from inside the room. With his eyes shut, Andrew could only hear the sound of the clock, which died fast. He finally opened his eyes and realized it was very early. He could see a blue morning outside, one of those cold mornings that only happen before seven or eight. Andre just stared at his window. He was warm and cozy there but he probably needed to come out of his sheets soon as…

 He remembered. It was Saturday. He thanked God, whichever he believed in, because he just wanted to stay there all morning. The night before he had done something he never did and now it seemed like a memory from a time long passed. He had called this guy he knew and invited him in and just went crazy with him. His head was still slightly turning because of the alcohol but he didn’t feel any hangover.

 Andrew stood up and looked out the window. The street below was deserted except for a couple of older women that seemed to be going to the market. The young man decided to the kitchen. He may not be drunk still but he was very thirsty. He walked distracted, thinking of what he had done the night before. Pouring some orange juice in a glass, he realized the guy from the night before had forgotten his wallet. It was right there, just in front of the TV.

 The young man opened his fridge again and realized he had nothing to do a decent breakfast with. No eggs, no cheese, no ham. And in the pantry, it was the same story: no bread or crackers, not even potato chips. So, he had to take a walk down to the store. He went back to his bedroom, put on some loose pants (the kind you would wear for the gym) and an old t-shirt. He grabbed a coat, the keys and a bill he always left in a secret stash for occasions like this. When he was at the door, he realized he had almost forgotten his cellphone. Once he had it, he went out.

 Effectively, there was a cold weather outside. The sun was apparently trying to warm people up but it wasn’t too high up to make any difference. It was pleasant to feel the heat in the face but that was it. There were two blocks between Andrew’s building and the small market the old ladies he had seen before were headed for. He actually saw them arguing for which tomatoes looked better.

 Andrew grabbed a small cart and looked for some eggs, white bread and cereal. He loved the supermarket and going alone. This was because he felt he could imagine the lives of everyone in there, he could try to guess what kind of people they were and the moment when they would be eating their groceries. Maybe the man buying the salmon wanted to impress a lady with a fancy diner and he was certain the guy who didn’t remember the name of the chicken part he was supposed to buy, had being sent there by his wife. The old ladies were probably going to cook a nice breakfast for both of them or some grandchildren. There was also a woman and Andrew that, like him, she lived alone. He was always alone and now he had gotten a guy to fuck with...

 Then, the cellphone rang. It vibrated too and this combination made Andrew severely annoyed, especially because it had interrupted his wandering through the supermarket. The number that appeared on the screen was unknown to him, so he didn’t answer. He just pressed the red part of the screen and pocketed his cellphone. He had arrived at the aisle of instant meals and he grabbed a few for the following nights. He had no idea when he would go to do proper shopping.

The cellphone rang again and this time he answered before he could see the number. He answered with an annoyed “Yes?” but then froze right where he was: it was the guy from the night before. He seemed ashamed to call but he asked Andrew if he could go by the house. He had left his wallet there and, obviously, he needed for his daily living. The guy asked Andrew if he could go right away and, without even thinking about it, our main character said yes. They hung up fast.

 Andrew stayed there, looking at the microwave meals like an idiot. But he wasn’t really looking at them. The problem was that he didn’t want to look at that guy again; he really didn’t want him in his house. But, why hadn’t he said anything? Andre could have opened his mouth and say “I’ll leave it with the doorman” or something, but he didn’t. And he was ashamed and worried he didn’t.

 After he had paid his food, Andrew walked to his house hoping not to see the guy standing there, at the door. He wasn’t. He felt relieved but not so much when, entering his apartment, he saw the wallet the guy had left there. It was funny, now that he thought of it, to call him just “that guy” on his mind. He had no idea of his name.

 The truth was that guy had come out of the Internet and the only intention Andrew had had with him was to have sex. That was it. He didn’t want him back. Besides, there was another thing. The guy was very good looking. This may seem a bit shallow but he was rather cute. And that had made Andre very nervous the night before. That’s why he had so much to drink. Now that he thought of it, it was lucky that he wasn’t puking like crazy in his bathroom.

 He didn’t consider himself a cute guy and he was so ashamed a guy like the one that had come to his apartment had come for him. It was just ridiculous, or so he thought. But he couldn’t think of it for long because the buzzer interrupted his thinking. It was the doorman announcing someone called Alex. He was going to say he didn’t know anyone by that name but then he realized that was probably the guy’s actual name, so he said, “let him in”.

 Andrew grabbed the wallet and put it on the counter, next to his groceries. “Stupid me!” he said out loud. He opened the wallet and grabbed one of many cards inside. It was his ID. Yes, this was Alexander Hoffman’s wallet. How stupid of him not having a quick look at the wallet, at least to know the name. The doorbell rang so he put the ID back inside the wallet and left it on the kitchen counter.

 He opened the door, pulling his shirt straight. The guy on the other side was a bit taller than he was, hair long but nicely cut and he had dark stubble, perfectly framing his face.

-       Hey.

-       Hey...

 Andrew didn’t know what to say. Alex looked a bit uneasy.

-       Come in. Sorry.

 Alex came in and saw his wallet on the counter. He grabbed and went through everything that was in there.

-       Thanks man. Thought I had lost it.

-       It’s ok.

 Alex smiled at Andrew. Andrew blushed.

-       You’re cute.

 Andrew burst in uncontrolled laughter.

-       Sorry… That… It’s funny.

-       What is?

-       You saying that.

-       Why? You are cute.

 This time Andrew didn’t laugh. Alex looked at him and then shook his wallet in front of Andrew.

-       In the mood for breakfast? For your help?

 Andrew smiled, still a bit red. Then, he nodded.

Over the lights

The young guy was there, just looking through the window, sitting on the edge of the frame. He was looking somewhere beyond the buildings, the streets, the people and their noise. It seemed he was looking at something that wasn't there or he maybe even not really looking, just wondering.

 - Sorry. - I said.

I put the papers I had been asked to look for on the desk. The boy immediately turned around and looked directly into my eyes. For lack of a better word, they were mesmerizing: not blue or green or honey colored. They were brown but somehow they were so much more special than any other brown eyes I had ever seen.

He smiled at me and turned his head again, returning to his wondering beyond this place, in which he obviously had no intention to stay. For me, it wasn't clear why he was there but my boss was handling his affairs. He was his attorney and I was the attorney's assistant. Not having come out of law school yet, I was trying to learn what made a lawyer a very good one but as of yet, i had only learned how to make a decent cup of coffee and how to juggle two boxes of donuts and three large lattes.

Then, my boss entered. Ms. Hoffman was a tall, intimidating woman. And to be honest, I was surprised to see her advising such a young guy. He had to be younger than me, I thought. But there he was, all worried. And her, she was in one weird mood. Normally, Ms. Hoffman would be yelling at everyone, asking for things, denying others and then asking for notes and data and so on. But today, she had been in her office all day until he came. And here she was.

 - How have you been, Tony?

So, he's name was Tony. He sat down next to year with me on the other side. They chatted amicably for a while, asking the same superficial things one asks a friend or a close acquaintance. This was extremely strange, as Ms. Hoffman had never really shown interest in any person, not employee or client. But there she was, asking him about his health and work.

For what I could take from the conversation, she had helped him emancipate himself from his family. The guy owned a billion dollar company. You know, one of those young brains of the new generation: they make an app and the next day they are giving money to Bill Gates or something.

He was not a friend of words, speaking only if he had to and not bothering to fake a smile, a thing that Ms. Hoffman was doing. It seemed so odd and unnatural. And, when the meeting passed its first thirty minutes, I started wondering what I was doing there. Besides handling papers from time to time, I was not doing much. She hadn't asked for coffee or some difficult number from ten years ago. She had just demanded me to be there.

Then the meeting was over. They were bidding farewell to each other when Ms Hoffman said:

 - Oh, I almost forgot. This is the guy I told you about. He's perfect for you.

At first, I was not sure I had heard it correctly. I tried to say something but then he looked at me again and all the words melted quickly. He just nodded and said "He'll do fine". Was I been pimped or something similar? Why hadn't she told me anything?

He came out first and she started walking after him but then I recovered my words and asked her what was going on. She only said that now I worked for him and that I should go after him and ask all the details about the new job. She said I could clear my post on the weekend.

So I stood there, for what it felt like ages. I had been laid off but at the same time I had a new job already. Confusing? Of course, but mysterious even more. I rushed after the guy and realized he had taken the elevator already so I had to go into a crowded one. When I finally arrived to the ground floor, I rushed out only to see the young man smirking, waiting leaning on a black car.

 - Get in, guy.

He got in and then I followed. It wasn't a limousine or anything but the car was beautiful inside and out and the chauffeur didn't spoke a word. Apparently, he knew the schedule by heart. He started to drive and then I noticed the young guy was looking at me.

 - Name?

For a second I doubted but then I finally spoke.

 - Ellar Ramsay.

 - Good. Call me Tony.

I nodded. Then shut up again. I had no idea what to ask or say. As a matter of fact, I didn't even know why I had entered a car without saying something before or asking the destination. I just sat there, looking through the window. If he really was my new boss, he would ask something at some time. Maybe lattes were also his thing.

The car stopped in front of a beautiful building. He asked the chauffeur to park it properly and come back the following day. The man only nodded in response.

When we got, Tony walked in front of me at all times. I just smiled or nodded to people in the building until we were alone in the elevator, taking us up to the thirtieth floor.

 - Did Ellen tell you anything about your job with me?

I nodded negatively.

 - Are you afraid of me?

That was one tough question. Although short and seeming fairly simple, Tony did have something very intimidating about him. His body language, his expressions, that way of looking at nothing, his eyes, ... He was really strange, even more than Ms. Hoffman. At least she was predicable. From this young fellow, no one knew what had to be expected and I suspected he was aware of this feeling he imprinted in people's mind.

 - I see you are. Good but not in your post.

The elevator opened and he stepped out. I followed, but stopped almost immediately: we were obviously at his apartment and it was really nice. It didn't look like one of those rich people's flats; all done by some crazy designer that thinks black is the only color in the world. No, this was a home, full of color and, obviously, feelings.

There were pictures, a lot of them. I saw Tony in some of them. And a man and a woman, probably his parents. I followed him through the living room and then to a corridor. I was sure he was leading me to an office where we would discuss the details of my new post but, once again, I was mistaken. We were in the bedroom.

It was lit by the pale light of sundown and when he switched the lights on, it felt as if the afternoon sun had entered the room. It looked beautiful. So beautiful it was, I had not realized he was taking his clothes off. Again, my words were lost. I saw his shoes, pants, t-shirt and jacket fall to the floor.

 - Pick that up for me, please.

He entered another room, probably the closet, and started singing. I couldn't decipher, or care about, which song it was. I took the clothes and folded them and then put them on his bed. What was I doing? Why was I just doing what he wanted instead of demanding answers or simply leaving?

I then realized I was breathing heavily so I decided to get closer to the window and try to slow myself down, to relax, to get my words back from him. As I calmed down, I saw the city unfold before my eyes, all the car lights and building lit up, all ready for the night. I remembered it was Friday night and I was being expected in a bar.

 - How do I look?

I turned to him and saw he had put on a tuxedo. He looked very sharp, except for the light blue socks he was wearing and his unshaved appearance. I felt him taking over me again but this time, I closed my eyes and spoke.

 - What am I doing in here?

He smiled and got close. For some reason, I shivered. I was scared.

 - Don't be scared. I'm not a maniac or anything. I get a bit crazy often but not really mental.

 - Do I really work for you?

 - Yes, you do.

 - As.... what? A prostitute? I don't...

Again, he smiled but this time I didn't felt threatened but relieved.

 - I do, actually. But that has nothing to do with it. I asked Ellen for a sharp, intelligent guy to be my       assistant. That's you.

What? Assistant? Again?!

 - I know you are her assistant. Or used to be, at least. Now, you are mine anyway. And I need you.

And then he did something I didn't saw coming. He took my hands and squeezed them gently.

 - I need someone I can trust. Someone that knows all of me and me of him. And no, not a                      relationship based on love or sex but on partnership. I own a small empire and I need a guy like you    to help me make it bigger and better.

So many thoughts were rushing into my head. I could even feel the blood going all over my body. I had to speak now but, again, all inside of me was blocked. My head lay low, at the floor. This time, I wasn't blocked because of him but because of the chance given by him to me. I had always wanted to be a lawyer, a great hero defending people from titans trying to steal their lives from them. But this man was asking me to be his shadow, forever probably. And just like that, without any explanation or details.

I raised my head again and looked at him, straight in the eye. When I saw him, I felt a connection. And I was sure I saw him feeling it too.

 - What do you need me for? - I said.

 - Grab me some dark socks and help me shave. I swear it gets better down the road.

Again, he smiled at me with that craftiness, that subtle way he had to get what he wanted by just using his eyes.

The only difference this time was that, without hesitation, I smiled back.