When Alyssa reaches the front door, I follow right behind, my arm coming out and pushing the door open for her just as she reaches for it. She looks over her shoulder at me, giving off another small smile, which I don’t return.
But I do follow her out.
As the door shuts behind us, she turns and says, “Heading home already?”
“Yup. I’m partied out,” I say drily.
“Yeah… I could tell by the bottled waters you were downing all night.”
“Small bladder,” I confirm, blaming my need to leave on nonexistent bodily limitations rather than my fragile psyche and distaste of crowds.
Alyssa snorts, knowing bullshit when she hears it. But the laugh that trickles out of those full and shiny lips is genuinely delighted by my jest, and it makes me want to actually laugh in return. But I don’t, because it would still feel more unnatural than natural to actually do such a thing.
Instead, I observe, “You’re headed out kind of early yourself.”
“I need to make a stop by The Haven,” she says, her eyes sad and worried.
“Jethro?” I guess.
“Yeah. I stopped by on the way here, and he still hadn’t eaten. Won’t get up off his bed. I’m going to make him some chicken and rice to see if I can get him to eat something.”
“Right now?” I ask, surprised she’d go cook for a stray dog that was dying of old age.
“He may not be around tomorrow,” she quips with an ironic smirk.
Point taken, so I just nod my head at her. She stares at me thoughtfully, for just a small moment, and then she says, “Well, have a good night, Brody.”
“You too,” I tell her just as I turn toward my car. It’s only then that I realize I just had a complete conversation with her and for the first time, I didn’t doubt her sincerity, her morals, or her honesty. For the first time, I wasn’t looking at her with such a jaundiced eye. In fact, I’m starting to think I was seeing her a bit more clearly.
I think to myself on the drive home about all the ways that my life has changed, most of them for the worse. Of course, the one good thing that has happened to me recently is getting out of prison. Kind of hard to beat that sort of feel good stuff.
But Alyssa keeps tripping through my mind. Now that I’ve seemingly pushed pass the barrier of prejudice that I had unilaterally erected, she fascinates me more than I care to admit. Her simple beauty, her drive and determination… hell, just her joy and zest for life, all appeal to me on a basic level. I’m not sure why, but yes… it all appeals to me.
Is that hope for something different in my life?
Is she some freakin’ ray of sunshine or something that I should soak up and learn from?
I have no clue, and the mere thought of extending myself out there to find out causes my stomach to rumble. Yet, I feel compelled to entertain the possibility that maybe she can teach me something.
When I get to my tiny apartment, I kick off my shoes and head into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. It’s a simple pleasure that I appreciate far more than most people. Once I have my cup properly brewed and steaming in my hand, I pick up the telephone that came along with the furniture, compliments of Miss Mabel. It’s an old rotary phone, but it’s still serviceable. I’m using it because I still haven’t broken down to buy myself a cell phone. There is no one I really want to call that much, and no one I really want to hear from, but I suppose I need one for convenience. I make a mental note to try and pick one up tomorrow.
I dial a number and after three rings, Jimbo answers. “Peaks.”
“Hey… it’s Brody.”
“What’s up, dude? You get my message earlier about doing your service over at the Food Bank? They can start you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, man. I got it, but something’s come up.”
Jimbo sighs heavily on the line. “Brody… you have to do this service. It’s ordered by the parole board. There’s no getting out of it.”
“I don’t want out of it,” I assure him hastily. “I just found something else I want to do.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah… a non-profit called The Haven. It’s a no-kill animal shelter, and they’re in need of some help. I’d like to do that for my service.”
“You’re killing me, man. I had to pull some strings to get you on over at the Food Bank.”
“If you’ll hook me up, I’d be very grateful,” I tell him quietly. “This is something I really want to do.”
Jimbo is silent for a moment, but then I actually hear his smile come through the receiver. “Sure thing, Brody. I’ll handle the Food Bank. You need me to contact The Haven?”