No Ordinary Love (17 page)

“Angela, Matthew, Maggie, Katie, Marie, Tino, Jeanie, Terry, and Lu Chu.”

“I know the first two, but who are all the rest?” Angelo asked.

“Angela helped me buy the plane tickets and make a reservation at this hotel,” Tony said. “Matthew rode with me in the taxi, and Maggie made sure I got on the airplane okay. Katie was on the plane. She brought me root beer and cookies. She smelled like strawberries. I listened to Naomi with headphones. Marie took me to the taxi. Tino drove me in a taxi. He is very round. He is Latino. He likes Lily. She is brown and has an Afro. Jeanie gave me my room keys. But they are not keys. They are like credit cards. Jeanie had no smell. Terry took me to my room and shook my hand. He had freckles and a bald head. Terry is black. Lu Chu brought me my food. She is Chinese. She is short. Her name means ‘green pearl.’ She is not green. She is very pretty. She reminds me of Aika.”

“You have to be making this up,” Angelo said.

“I am not making this up,” Tony said. He yawned loudly. “I have to go to sleep now. Say good-night to Aika for me. I will miss saying good-night to her. Good-night, Angelo.” He turned off his phone and went to the window.

“Good-night, Trina. I will see you in the morning.”

17

T
ony awoke at 9:00 AM without an alarm clock and realized he couldn’t shave.

I forgot my electric shaver,
he thought.
I cannot shave without my electric shaver.

He called the front desk.

“Good morning, this is Delia,” a woman said. “How may I help you?”

“I need Jeanie,” Tony said.

“She worked last night,” Delia said. “I can help you . . . Mr. Santangelo. Am I saying that right?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “You said it right. I need to shave. I forgot my electric shaver.”

“We can give you a razor and some shaving cream, sir,” Delia said.

“Angelo does not trust me with a razor,” Tony said. “I need an electric shaver, a Remington WetTech Rotary shaver.”

“I wish I could help you, sir, but we don’t—”

“I must shave,” Tony interrupted. “I am meeting Trina today.”

“Will one day without shaving be that much of a problem?” Delia asked. “You could always go out and buy an electric shaver, couldn’t you?”

“I must shave,” Tony said. “I must have a smooth face for Trina.”

“You know,” Delia said, “lots of women like a man with a little beard on his face.”

Tony blinked rapidly. “Women like beards.”

“I do,” Delia said.

“Okay.” Tony hung up.

A minute later he called the front desk. “Delia, I am sorry I hung up. Thank you for helping me.”

“It’s my pleasure, Mr. Santangelo,” Delia said.

“I am hanging up now,” Tony said. “Bye.”

He showered, using most of the little bar of soap, and washed his hair, using all of the shampoo in the little bottle. He brushed his teeth for ten minutes. He put on clean socks, underwear, a T-shirt, and the clothes he wore the day before. He took the notepads and a pen from his laptop case and put them into the pockets of his Brooklyn Dodgers jacket. He put on the jacket. He turned on his phone but turned off the ringer. He then stared around himself in the mirror.

I need a haircut,
he thought. He felt his coarse beard.
Women like beards. Trina is a woman. Trina will like my beard.

He put one key card into his back pocket, turned off all the lights, and left his room. He took the elevator to the lobby and walked by the front desk.

“Have a great day, sir,” a woman said.

Tony turned slightly. “Thank you.”

“I’m Delia, Mr. Santangelo,” she said. “The beard looks good.”

“Thank you, Delia.”

Tony stepped outside as a cable car rolled by. He saw a map of Nob Hill in his mind, strode through Huntington Park, and arrived at Saint Francis Memorial Hospital at ten-thirty. He walked around to the emergency room entrance on Bush Street and sat in the waiting area, watching every door and several hallways for Trina.

The man snoring next to him had a shaggy beard. “You have a beard,” Tony said. “Women like beards.”

The man didn’t stir.

“You do not have shoelaces,” Tony said. He pointed at his hiking boots. “I have shoelaces.”

The man shook himself awake. “You talking to me?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “You smell like beer.”

The man wiped his eyes. “Had a late night.”

“You should not drink beer,” Tony said. “You should drink root beer.”

The man smiled with stained yellow teeth. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“You should brush your teeth, too,” Tony said.

At 11:25 AM, Trina walked by the admission desk carrying a paper bag.

She is going outside to eat her lunch, but I am frozen,
Tony thought.
I cannot speak.
He cleared his throat and whispered, “Trina.”

Trina left the hospital and walked outside.

Tony stood.

“Have a good one,” the shaggy man said.

“Thank you,” Tony said.

Heart beating wildly, hands sweating, and knees weak, Tony attempted to keep pace with Trina, who strolled fifty feet ahead of him. He pulled out a notepad and scribbled as he weaved his way around other pedestrians on the sidewalk: “Aqua pants and white shoes so fast so strong the hills are steep I have good hiking boots she’s in the park I’m in the park she’s sitting on a bench on the other side of the naked man fountain I can see the window to my room I should go there to watch her from a safe distance I will buy binoculars.”

He glanced at Trina.
She is so pretty. I need to be close to her. I will sit.

He sat on a bench on the other side of the fountain, occasionally looking around the shooting and spilling water at Trina. He continued to scribble: “People walk dogs and collect their poop in this park. They do not always do this in Brooklyn. Some Chinese people do slow dances on a hill like slow-motion kung fu. Seagulls drift overhead. They look like Brooklyn seagulls. Trina looks Spanish, French, Cajun, African, and Native American. Bambi is not the all-American girl. Trina is the all-American girl.” He looked around the fountain then down to his notes. “Trina has sharp cheekbones. She needs to eat. I am hungry. I need to eat, too. I did not eat breakfast. She is eating a sandwich. It looks like ham and cheese. I like ham and cheese. She is reading a book. It is not the book about me. I am glad. If she reads it, she will not like me.”

Trina turned up her face and smiled at the sun making a brief but glorious appearance.

Tony wrote furiously: “I will never forget the way the sun made her face glow as long as I live that was beauty I have seen beauty Trina is beauty.” He slowed his breathing and saw the words dancing with notes in his mind.
If you ask me what is beauty, it won’t be a woman’s booty, it won’t be a color or race—it’s sunlight’s lace on Trina’s face.
He wrote down the words.
I have a song, and I have just met her
. He wrote: “I like this park. It is green. The clang of the cable car makes the fountain water dance. Trina’s bookmark is a napkin. She rests her feet up on the bench. She reads two pages. She closes her eyes. She is tired. She takes off her white shoes and rubs her feet. Her face is a frown. Her feet hurt. I will get her new shoes.”

He widened his thumb and pinkie. “Her foot is nine inches long. She looks my way. I look away. I should have a book to read. I should not be writing. I should get closer to her. I should sit next to her. I should talk to her. I cannot move. She is looking directly at me. I look at the statue of naked men. I should not stare at statues of naked men.”

Trina rose and left the park.

Tony saw her aqua legs flashing up a hill and out of sight.

He could not move.

He could not speak.

He wrote: “I have found her. I have not found my voice.”

Tony stood and walked over to where Trina was sitting and sat, putting his feet up on the bench as she had. He felt the sun on his face and looked up.
This is what she felt.
He looked past the fountain to where he was sitting before.
She was not staring at me. She was staring at the pretty stained glass of that cathedral. It reminds me of St. Paul’s in Cobble Hill. I liked going to Mass. The colors and incense there always whispered soft music to me.

He took out his phone and called Angela.

“Angela’s Sweet Treats and Coffee, Angela speaking,” Angela said.

“Angela, I have found Trina,” Tony said.

“That’s wonderful, Tony,” Angela said. “Did you speak to her?”

“No,” Tony said. “I followed her from the hospital to the park. She ate a ham and cheese sandwich and read a book. Her feet hurt. She needs new shoes.”

“How do you know that?” Angela asked.

“She put her feet up on the bench,” Tony said. “She took off her shoes. She rubbed her feet and frowned. Her shoes are old. They are thin on the bottom. I will buy her some new shoes.”

“But you don’t know her size, Tony,” Angela said.

“Nine inches,” Tony said. “Her feet are nine inches.”

“Are you sure?” Angela asked.

“Yes,” Tony said. “I measured them with my eyes.”

“Nine inches, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Give me a moment,” Angela said.

Tony waited, his eyes wandering to the men and women dancing slowly on the hill.
They do not dance with each other and I hear no music. I see their music. It is calm music.

“Tony, you still there?” Angela asked.

“Yes,” Tony said.

“I’ve been measuring my feet,” Angela said. “Mine are eight and a half inches, and I wear a size five. If Trina’s are nine inches, you’ll have to buy her at least a six, maybe even a seven.”

“I will buy several sizes,” Tony said. “One will fit.” Tony stood. “I am going to the shoe store now.”

“But Tony,” Angela said, “don’t be surprised if Trina doesn’t accept them.”

“Trina needs new shoes,” Tony said.

“Tony, Trina doesn’t
know
you,” Angela said. “It would be very strange if a strange man brought me shoes.”

“Oh.”

“You need to talk to her first so you aren’t a stranger to her anymore,” Angela said.

“I will talk to her after I give her the shoes,” Tony said.

“You might want to talk to her
before
you give her the shoes,” Angela said. “You know, let her know who you are.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “I will do that.”

“But why didn’t you introduce yourself to her when you first saw her?” Angela asked.

“I was scared,” Tony said. “I do not like this feeling.”

“It’s all right, Tony,” Angela said. “You were nervous, that’s all.”

“I need a haircut,” Tony said. “And some clothes. I am wearing dirty clothes.”

“Your clothes are dirty? What happened?”

“I wore them yesterday,” Tony said. “They smell like two taxis and an airplane.”

“What are you going to do next?” Angela asked.

“I will find comfortable shoes for Trina,” Tony said.

“Sounds like a plan,” Angela said. “Call me anytime, okay?”

“I like talking to you,” Tony said. “You make me calm.”

“I like talking to you, too, Tony,” Angela said. “Oh, has Angelo called you today?”

“He called me last night,” Tony said.

“He has been calling you today, too,” Angela said. “I know this because he’s been calling
me.
”

“I turned off my ringer,” Tony said.

“Well, turn it back on,” Angela said. “Your brother is blowing up my phone. Check your messages.”

“Angelo is angry,” Tony said.

“He’s worried about you,” Angela said.

“I do not have much time,” Tony said. “Angelo will come find me and take me back to Brooklyn.”

“Well, get to work,” Angela said. “Go get her.”

“I will try.”

18

T
ony stared at his phone. He saw many missed calls and messages from Angelo.
I will not listen to them. They are all saying to come home to Brooklyn. I do not want to go home.

Tony did not turn on his ringer.

He Googled “shoe stores” and saw a map. He decided to try Foot Worship on Sutter Street first since it was closest.

He walked into Foot Worship and saw a display of tall white, black, and red shiny boots with spiky heels to his right and spiked platform shoes with thick clear soles to his left. They reminded him of something Elton John used to wear.
They do not look very comfortable,
Tony thought.
Maybe they have nurses’ shoes in the next section.

The next shoe display to his left featured a sign: T
HE
OUCH
D
EPARTMENT
.
A pair of boots nearly three feet tall hung from a hook.
They have ten-inch heels. They would hurt Trina’s feet. They would hurt anyone’s feet.

A nearly naked mannequin with an orange wig stared down on him from the second floor. The mannequin wore a fuzzy black and light blue bra, light blue and purple underwear, and purple and light blue crisscrossed hose that stopped above her knees.
She would be cold outside today.

A large leopard-skin chair in the shape of a high heel sat in front of an ordinary tan couch directly in front of him, a red plush couch with lip-shaped cushions to his left.
Their furniture does not match. I wonder if they know that.

A woman left her chair at a glass counter in the back. “See anything you like?”

“I am Tony,” he said.

“I’m Natalya,” she said.

“You are Russian,” Tony said.

Natalya laughed. “My grandmother was. I’m plain ol’ American now.”

“You are very pretty,” Tony said.

“Thank you,” Natalya said.

“I want shoes for a nurse,” Tony said.

“A nurse, huh?” Natalya said. “What kind of fetish does she have?”

“I do not know this word,” Tony said.

“You know, fetish,” Natalya said. “What’s her obsession?”

“I hope it is me,” Tony said.

Natalya smiled. “What kind of kink is she into?”

“Trina is not a chain,” Tony said. “She does not have a kink.”