Page 5 of Capo
Two
Chloe
Standing in my pajamas with my toothbrush in my mouth, I jerk hard from a series of loud raps on my front door. My heart jumps to my throat. What the hell? It’s eleven in the evening. As I spit out the foam, I consider pretending I’m not at home, but then curiosity gets the better of me so I sneak out into the hallway and tiptoe to the door. I put my cheek to the wood and peek out into the stairwell through the peep hole, holding my breath. The lights are off on my floor, which is shit because it means they’re broken and I’m gonna have to find the landlady. In the dim light from the next floor, I can make out the shape of a person, a very tall and broad-shouldered person. A man. I live alone. It’s night.
Fuck no.
My heart still slams in my chest and I hold my breath as I back away. Three more loud knocks make me jerk and I slam my hand over my mouth to suffocate the whimper that escaped me. I stare at the safety chain. It’s off. My breaths come out as short gasps as I ponder if I should try to hook it, or if I’ll give away my presence. My God. What if he breaks in because he thinks no one’s at home? My knees weaken at the thought and I look around me, desperate to find something to defend myself with. I don’t have a gun. Firearms scare the hell out of me. Holding my breath, I sneak into the kitchen and pull out the first knife I find, a bread knife, then I stay there, pressed against the wall, listening.
Nothing happens. I don’t hear anything else. It takes a long while before I dare to walk up to my door again and peek out. I don’t see anyone. It’s not until then the shockwave of adrenaline washes over me. Still clutching the knife, I hook the chain into its place and sink down along the door, curling up, hugging my knees. What was that?
I don’t get any sleep that night. I toss and turn. The knife lies on the bedside table, glinting in the dark. Staring at it, I wonder if I could ever actually use it, or if I’d freeze up like a deer in headlights.
Who was it? A neighbor? Someone more sinister? The one thing I’ve feared for so long? But why now? I dismiss the thought. It can’t possibly have anything to do with Kerry.
It’s been a really dark year and a half, I haven’t heard a word from my best friend in the last six months. We kept in touch a little during her first year away. I called her a couple of times. She never called me, but I assumed it was to be cautious. One day her phone was disconnected. I contacted my cousin to see if he knew of her whereabouts and he went to her last known address. It hurt to learn she had moved. Her landlady gave him a letter with my name on it.
I had to go. I’m sorry. Do what you want with my house.
Just that.
I understand. Or no, I don’t understand. It’s been such a long time. Are they really after her still? Tell on the mob and die? Surely she could have gone to the cops in Chicago? I just don’t get it.
As the dark gives way to the gray light of dawn and the city wakes to yet another day, the sounds of cars, cable cars, and people increasing outside, the things that go bump in the night fade as well. My eyes are warm, dry and itchy, and finally I feel sleep can claim me, but it’s a workday, Friday, and time to get up. Life goes on.
Late afternoon I gather our little gang, texting Rebecca and Gayle that they have to join me tonight. I need booze. I’ve been working too hard for too long and I’m exhausted. I don’t even know anymore if last night was real or if it was a hallucination. The more time that passes, the more unreal it feels.
Gayle started playing bass in a punk band a while back and they have a show tonight, so obviously that’s our choice of venue. Shy, timid Gayle has changed so much. She has this secret lover she won’t tell us about. We only know that he’s tall and blond, looks like a caveman but is the most incredible person she’s ever met. That rules out all the emo guys in the band, and we’re still none the wiser.
I’m not fond of secrets. I carry too many of my own. Secrets can hurt.
My tall, platinum blonde friend Rebecca hands me a glass of wine. We have squeezed in between a couple of younger guys who threw us interested gazes at first, but who took the hint when we turned our backs to them.
“I’ve had a shit day,” I shout in her ear and take a large sip of wine. The music makes it hard to hear, but the mood in the club is hot, sexy, and fun and it’s just what I need.
“Tell me about it,” says Rebecca and launches into a story of how she’s been darting between auditions for small theatre shows and her chef training. I hear about half of what she says, and my mind is too fractured to pay enough attention. I’m not sure what makes me turn around. It’s like a feeling of something crawling along my neck. At the far wall stands a man. He is absolutely still and holds his arms crossed over his broad chest, a bottle of beer in one hand. He’s tall and dark, and even from afar I can tell he’s seriously good looking in a roguish kind of way. Our eyes meet, and for some inexplicable reason a slight shiver runs through me. Then he turns away and the moment passes.
“Hey, Chloe!” Rebecca screams in my ear just as the music stops. It seems as if half the club turns toward us and Rebecca blushes furiously. “Stupid music,” she mutters, glancing at the crowd. Gayle waves at us from the stage and grabs the microphone, announcing their last song for the night. It’s a slower tune and people light up their phones, waving them in the air to the rhythm. I glance over to where I saw the man, but he’s gone.
“Earth to Chloe!”
I spin around and face Rebecca. She’s still slightly flushed, but it can be the heat as well. “Yeah, sorry. I’m… I just thought I saw someone.”
“You good? You said you’d had a shit day.”
I shake my head. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”
Suddenly I don’t want to delve into my weird experience from last night. It’s as if I don’t speak about it, it’ll go away. A ghost of a memory runs through me. That shape in the dim light. No face. My eyes dart over to the other wall again and then I scan the crowd, but I don’t recognize anyone, my mind is just playing tricks on me.
I jerk hard when an arm is slung around my shoulder and I spin to face a grinning Gayle. She’s sweaty and beams with satisfaction. Colored lights play across her face as the spotlights sweep over the jumping, dancing crowd.
“So what did you guys think?”
I give her a one-armed hug. “You were absolutely awesome. As always.”
“Thank you! It was a great set. Kick-ass audience.”
I grab her chin and tilt her head. “Do you have a new piercing?” A small golden ring glints in her eyebrow.
