The Lives We Lead
by Chad Camp
“Alright Horris, you can leave. Have a nice day.” They’d always force another smile and step aside to watch you pack up for the walk of shame down the long isles.
It was nearing lunch time when Lucile snaked her head around the corner of his cubical.
“Hey Herald, I’m going out of town this weekend and I’d really be grateful if you’d cover my shifts.” Lucile was a middle aged woman who looked like she’d been smoking for one hundred years to many. Her face could usually be found in a permanent scowl and she had the voice of a vulture. Her left eye twitched when she spoke and she enjoyed dropping sexual images into normal conversation.
“I really don’t think I can Lucile.” Horris said. “We’ll I’d really be thankful if you could Herald. Thanks buddy. They’re on Saturday and Sunday evenings.” She gave a black-toothed smile and sat back into her own cubical. He could hear her wracking, wet cough through his headphones.
It wasn’t long before the Monitor came by and tapped him on the shoulder, handing him his yellow timecard.
“You’re done for the day Horris.” He gave his fake smile. The sky had clouded over and it looked like it might try to rain as Horris walked home. Small streams of steam hissed up from grates in the sidewalk. A truck backfired and stalled out. Horris found himself thinking of the sequin’s woman. He wondered what she was doing right now, if she was powdering up her bruises or going through the motions of a mindless day job.
He stopped at a small café on his way home and ordered some white toast with a glass of skim milk. He sat in the corner, running his eyes across the small restaurant, looking for her wild hair. He imaged it tied up in a bun or behind a small hairnet. He could see her taking down his order with a worn ink pen. She’d have ink on her fingers from where she kept forgetting to put the cap back on. He’d smile at her and she’d feel better about her life, better about her battered body and bruised soul.
Horris headed back to his building and climbed the stairs to his loft. Picking up his cards he began shuffling them out in front of him. Minutes of the clock crept by as his flipped his cards. He had just finished his third game when he glanced up and noticed the darkening sky.
Scooping up his notebook and pen, he bounded out the door and began making his way up the last few flights of stairs as quickly as he could. He was seeing spots by the time he reached the roof. He exploded through the door and shuffled up to the edge, greasy sweat curling off his forehead.
The street below was moving. A few cars lazily rounded the corners on their way home. A bald man whistled a show tune as he strolled down the sidewalk, a small black dog on a leash in front of him. The Street Corner was empty.
Frowning, Horris idly began to write about the man that was walking his dog. He wrote about his secret love of show tunes and how annoying it was to be forced into baby sitting his girlfriend’s
dog.
The time passed slowly and Horris was running short on things to write about. His eyes kept wondering over to The Street Corner, wishing that the she would be standing there. Hoping she’d have on that red dress and have hair teased out from her head. It was a long time before she came strolling down the opposite side walk and stopped on the street corner. Horris could see that she had her hair tied back and was wearing the red dress from last night. It was a little more frayed around the edges than he remembered and was pulled up high on her hips.
She got more business throughout the night, climbing in several cars and coming back twenty or even thirty minutes later. Eventually the moaning old car came prowling around the corner and stopped in front of her. The red haired man stepped out and moved over to her, shoving a hand into her purse as she gave it to him. He wagged his finger at her for a moment before nodding and slipping some money into his back pocket. Tossing her purse back to her he returned to his car and sped off without another word.
Her head followed the car as it left. Stepping back from the street corner, she tossed her bag to the ground and backed up against the wall behind her. She slid down the wall and ran her small hands through her hair. Horris could hear her sobs echoing between the buildings.
