Short Story, Part 2

The Old Man
Part Two

The young woman changed her purse from her left shoulder to her right as she pondered the offer from the old man. It would be a real gamble to stay at his place. She wasn’t really worried about what he’d do, she could take care of herself in that regard, but what about Eddie? He’d kill her if he ever caught up to her. And then, there was the drugs. Could she really beat them? She walked a bit down the sidewalk, then returned to the bench.

"Room and board free," the old man explained. "But, you’d have to help keep the place clean." Then, as an after thought, he added, "And, you’ll have to either go to school or find a job, or maybe both."

"I never was too good at school," she said. "Or a job," she added.

"Now, you will be," the old man said, an encouraging smile on his face.
"Yeah, right,"she said. "I’d be crazy to do this."

"Maybe you’d be crazy not to."

She paced up and down the sidewalk, a few yards on each trip. At the end of each lap, she’d stop and look at the old man. He waited for her to make her decision, not wanting to upset her like before. She stopped in front of him.

"No strings," she said, a statement, not a question.

"No strings. You can leave anytime you want. You just have to get a job or go to school." Then he added. "And, you have to stop using drugs and stop working the streets."

"Yeah, I know that part," she stated. She paced a few more laps. This time she stopped about ten yards from the bench and looked back into the park behind the bench. She thought for quite awhile, moving her purse back and forth from shoulder to shoulder, then she would resume her pacing, working things out in her mind. The old man watched. She would stop and stare into the park, swaying back and forth as she pondered her future. She stopped pacing, looked over at the old man on the bench, and walked up to him.

"Ok, I’ll do it. But, no strings and I can come and go as I want. And no nagging from you."

"I won’t guarantee the no nagging part," he replied.

She mulled over that for a moment. "I can handle nagging, I guess. So, now what?"

"So now, we go to my...our place and we’ll get you moved in," he said, standing up. He was unusually spry for a man his age, standing without a lot of the stops and starts and grunts and groans of his friends.

"I can’t go back to Eddie’s to get any of my things. I know he’ll know something’s up and I’ll be in a whole world of hurt," she stated.

"So, we’ll get new things," the old man offered as he started walking down the sidewalk. He looked back. "Coming?"

She hesitated only a moment, then hurried to catch up with him, having a hard time running in the high heeled boots.

"What’s your name?"she asked, when she caught up with him.

"Paul, Paul Wojoinski," he answered.

"I’m Holly," she offered

"Nice to know you, Holly," the old man said, smiling.

"Yeah, well, it’s nice to know you too, Paul."

The two of them walked down the sidewalk, not saying much as they walked. She was heavy in thought, wondering if she had made the right decision, then deciding that, no matter what happened, she would always have the option of going back on the street. "How bad can it be?" she thought. Living with an old man, room and board paid. All she had to do was find a job or go to school and she would have it made. That sounded alright to her. Especially the part of not having to put up with the beatings from Eddie. She could go her whole life without those. Her feet began to get tired as they continued to walk at a good pace.

"How much farther is it?" she asked.

"You’re not going to start with the ‘are we there yet?’ are you?" he asked.

"No, it just that my feet are getting tired walking in these boots. They really aren’t made for walking, you know," she stated.

"Those boots aren’t made for walking?" he asked, smiling.

"No, they are not."she answered, emphatically.

"Well, they must not belong to Nancy Sinatra then," he said, a twinkle in his eye.

"What?"

He started to explain, then thought better of it. "Never mind, it’s just a vague reference from years ago," he said, dismissing the comment with a wave of his hand. "We’re almost there."
A few more blocks and they arrived at a brownstone walk up.

"Here we are, home sweet home," he said, looking up at the building. "Second floor."
They walked up the outside stairs and then into the building using his key.
"We’ll have to get you keys made," he explained.

They walked up to the second floor and opened the door. The old man waited for Holly to enter, motioning with his hand for her to go first. She wasn’t used to that. The bunch she ran with weren’t into being very gentlemanly.

"Thank you," she said, stepping into the apartment.

"Your room will be down here," the old man said, walking down a short hall to his right. "This is the bathroom," he said, indicating the room on his left as he passed the door.

"Only one?" she asked.

"How many do you need?" he asked.

"Just one, but, I mean, for the both of us?" she added.

"We’ll work out a schedule," he offered.

He opened a door at the end of the hall. "This is your room. I’ve kept it furnished for company, occasionally, I get some,"he added as an afterthought.

She walked past the old man and stepped into the room. It was about twelve feet square with a twin bed, two night stands on each side of the bed, a dresser on the wall at the foot of the bed, and a door where the closet must have been. A picture of a table of dogs playing cards was hung on the wall over the head of the bed, representing the only decorations in the room. It wasn’t much to look at, but it was clean and neat and she thought she could fix it up a bit.

"It is nice," she said, smiling.

"You’ll grow to like it."

"I like it, already,"she lied. Life would certainly be different here. Eddie’s place was posh and spacious, with expensive art hung throughout. And there were the drugs. Eddie always had drugs laying around, almost like candy. She would miss the drugs. But, that was behind her and she was determined to change things, to get clean and be free of Eddie.

"So, we should make a list of the things you need and get you situated," the old man said, pulling her back to the present situation. "Come into the kitchen and I’ll get a piece of paper and a pen."
They walked into the kitchen and the young woman sat at the small table sat against one wall. Across from the table was the stove and oven. A refrigerator sat to the right of the stove. The old man pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer and handed it to Holly.

"I have a pen around her somewhere," he said, digging through the drawer. "Maybe it is in the living room," he added. "I’ll be right back."

Holly sat at the table while the old man searched for a pen. She watched him as he headed off into the living room. He was taller than she was, making him about six foot or so and well built for an old man. He had fairly broad shoulders, with the thick waist old men sported, and a slight bow to his back, probably from years of heavy work. She thought he must have been nice looking when he was younger, maybe a real ladies man. But, she couldn’t really tell now, because of his age. She looked around the kitchen. It was small with little counter space and a single basin sink. The neatness of the place struck her. She always thought old people were messy, and smelly. The place was nice enough, but she was starting to have second thoughts about her decision to stay with the old man. Her life would be completely different here, none of the excitement, none of the parties, no drugs, no fun. What was she thinking!

"Here we go," the old man said as he stepped in the kitchen. "I knew I had one." He handed her the pen. "Now, you make a list of things you need, and we’ll get you fixed up." He smiled at her and she felt a legitimate warmth from his smile. "Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad," she thought, boring, but safe. But, was boring what she was looking for? She took the pen and wrote out a list of things she thought she would need to get her by for awhile.

"I’ll run and get these," she said after finishing the list.

"We should go together," the old man said.

"Don’t you trust me?"

"Of course I do. I thought it would be safer to go together."

"I’m a big girl. I can handle it. I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t wait up," she said, smiling and giving the old man a wink.

"You have a nice smile. You should let people see it more often," the old man said.

"Thanks, see ya." She hurried out the door and was gone. The apartment grew instantly quiet. The old man sat down, glancing at the cherry wood clock hanging over the small table that sat next to the front door. Each swing of the pendulum elicited a tick that sliced through the silence, reminding the old man of how lonely his life had become. He really hadn’t noticed the quiet until Holly had been in the apartment. When she left, the silence welled up around him, consuming him in its completeness, reminding him that it hadn’t gone away, it had just been set aside for a time. He would sit in his favorite chair and wait for Holly to return.

End of Part Two