Fruitbat

22. 22

22

Danny

Soulmates . . .

Si’s neighborhood is the polar opposite of my little ghetto. The sidewalks here are pristine and sprout a uniform row of manicured trees that stand the exact same height as far as the blocks stretch. I’d bet if I counted, each one has the same amount of leaves and branches too. There’s no graffiti on the granite or sandstone block buildings and every street level windowsill holds a planter box that likely blooms in perfect unison during the summer months.

A cleanup crew of city workers is already collecting carved pumpkins from stoops and the “Happy Halloween” banners draped from cast iron street lamps on opposite sides of the street .

Decorations will stay up in my neighborhood until the wind and rain strip them away.

I haven’t ventured to this side of the river since I was little, though I’ve lived in this city all my life. I’m the riff-raff these people look down their noses at.

My mother used to read tarot and do mediumship house-calls here, she used her gift to convey messages from deceased loved ones and predict outcomes of her client’s future endeavors.

She coordinated a seance at a party one time, when I was around seven. The adults shoved me into a playroom with children who wanted nothing to do with me, so I entertained a baby that giggled and hopped in his hanging bouncy chair, as I made googly faces.

The face of their nanny comes back to mind, with her silver hair and brown skin. It was Grace.

That baby had the same apatite eyes, blonde ringlets and big goofy smile as this beautiful man clinging to my side right now. Pieces of that mysterious puzzle that's plagued me all night, click into place.

I lean over and kiss his cheek as we round a corner, into an alley between two buildings.

He beams back at me, “Here we are.” He waves his arm toward a fire escape.

“Welcome home my sweet boys.” The voice I’ve been waiting to hear for a decade chimes behind me.

I spin on my heel, my throat closes and my eyes well over.

“Hi, Mom. ”

“Hi, love.” She spreads her arms and invites me to embrace her.

I step in, drawing her signature vanilla-sage scent into my nostrils, and she wraps me tight.

“It’s good to see you,” she says, then wipes my cheeks.

“Mom, this is Si.” I reach for his hand.

Si hooks my index finger with his.

“I know Si well.” She smiles, looking between the two of us. “It’s about time you boys found each other again.”

“Everyone keeps saying that.” Si chuckles.

“You’ll know soon.” Mom’s eyes twinkle. “I love you both.” She twirls her fingers through the hair at my nape, like she always used to do. “Go ahead up. Rest for a bit.” She nods toward the fire escape ladder. “I’ll see you again, soon.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

“Nowhere. I’ll be right here. —head up.”

Si tugs on my sleeve.

Mom steps back and disappears around the corner of the building as swiftly as she appeared.

The world blurs for a moment, and then pulls back into focus.

I follow behind Si, and we climb the clinking iron ladder to the second floor window. He slips inside and invites me to follow.

“Welcome.”

He kisses my lips, once I’ve stepped through the frame, and shuts the window behind me.

“This is it,” Si wings his arms out and slowly spins .

“My entire apartment fits in your bedroom.” I comment with a chuckle.

“I love your studio!” Si bounces into my arms and pecks my lips. “Come here, I’ll show you, my place is so bland.”

He grabs my hand and leads me up a hallway.

“There’s the bathroom,” he points. “This is a storage closet, that’s the spare bedroom, and this is the living space.” He turns back, smiling.

I take in the bright white walls, sparsely decorated with a few massive paintings like an art gallery, and trimmed with elaborate crown molding. High ceilings, hardwood floors, and sparse furniture make the place feel like a grand showroom. A gourmet kitchen is tucked into the corner with stainless steel appliances, and matching pendant lights, aimed down onto marble countertops.

“You lived here by yourself?

“Yup.” His lips narrow and shrug to the side of his face. His shoulders curl and cheeks flush.

I get a flash of his life in my mind. He’s been so lonely for so long. This grand apartment makes the tall lanky man look like a lost boy. My chest cracks in two and I sweep his cheek with the back of my fingers.

His eyes spark and he nuzzles into my touch.

“Are you hungry?” He twists to spin toward the kitchen but pauses and turns back. “Do we get hungry?” he asks and giggles?

I shrug. “I do feel really sleepy.”

“Nothing feels different . . . Shouldn’t we feel different? ”

“Maybe not?” I chuckle.

I always wondered how the spirits didn’t know they were dead. It makes sense now. Everything feels the same, just a bit lighter, for lack of a better term. I don’t feel such dread and sadness anymore. My mind is gaining clarity the longer we step away from this plane of existence. Si’s familiarity to me goes back further than that bouncing baby in the swing. It goes back lifetimes. He and I have always been connected.

“Can we go lie down?” I yawn.

“Mm-hmm.” His eyes droop too.

He takes my hand and walks me back to his bedroom. He climbs onto the bed and kneels, waiting for me to join him.

I roll onto the mattress and lay my head on his pillows. They smell like him, heaven.

Si curls into my arms and his warmth is all I need…

We both drift off.