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Last Encounter: Part II

Clark Crenshaw

 

I looked down at my watch and shrugged.  Cornelia, my famous pianist friend, had been waiting for me since 4; but knowing her she was probably wasted in her apartment and wouldn’t be conscious until I was halfway in the process of tucking her in bed, clean from the vomiting and dirty clothes she wore.  She had no sense of control and took any opportunity to the extreme.  I remember the first time I met her and brought her drinking… and what happened after that… I shook his head.  I am in no hurry at all, I thought with a bit of disdain.

 

As I walked through the doors of the apartment building, I noted a familiar figure not far from me.  My eyes widened as I recognized exactly who it was.  “Jay?  Jay Walworth?  Hey!”

 

I ran over to her when she stopped.  I didn’t really notice her body stiffen at my voice.  Nor not the wariness that came into her eyes when she saw who it was.  “Clark,” she greeted in a flat voice.

 

She hadn’t changed a bit.  She was still chubby, with long straight hair that was wisped up in a ponytail.  Her lips turned up in a tight smile as I came to a stop in front of her.  I was so glad to see her; anything to stall for time.  “Hey, Jay, I heard you lived here.  What’s up?”  I spoke with my goofy grin and a happy-tinged voice.

 

“Nothing’s up,” she answered shortly.  “Same old, same old, I guess.”

 

She always spoke in short sentences.  Ever since I first met her, she’d speak directly to the point… unless she wanted to pound something into your brain.  Then she’d explain till you were dizzy with the information she jam-packed into your head.  That was one thing I admired about her: her common sense and modesty.  For goodness sake, she sang better than I did in High School and she still refused to take much credit for all that she’s accomplished.

 

I gave her a skeptical look.  “Really?  How’s college?  What did you take up again?  Which floor are you going to?  I’m visiting a friend of mine.  Maybe you know here.  She’s a freelance pianist, who is part German.  Have you heard of her?  Her name is Cornelia,” I explained.

 

She scurried into the elevator and answered, “No, sorry.”  It was in a mumble so I couldn’t really hear here.  That was one thing that was weird.  She had a lot of good things to say but she almost always mumbled when she spoke… unless she was really mad.  Then, oh boy, hold your hats, you’d be in for a rough ride!

 

I followed closely behind her, needing her presence as comfort before the actual tornado hit – damn Cornelia and her crazy habits.  She didn’t speak for a while, and I frowned.  Perhaps she forgot what I said.  “You still haven’t answered my question, Jay,” I reminded expectantly.

 

“I’m doing BA right now.” Short and sweet; that was how she answered me.

 

“What university?”  I’m always accused of being too curious for my own good, but it clears up a lot of stuff in my head.

 

“DLSU.”

 

I looked up at what level we were at.  Sixth floor… seventh floor… damn, so close to the eleventh floor.  Suddenly, the elevator started to rumble and came to a halting stop between the eighth and ninth floor.  Jay jumped from her position and threw herself towards the door.  “Oh crap, oh crap, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

 

I blinked in surprise at the situation.  “Damn it, I think we’re stuck.”

 

She turned to me and glared.  “Uh, thanks for stating the obvious, dude,” she retorted in a snappish voice.

 

Talk about getting your panties in a twist.  She began banging on the red emergency button almost desperately.  I frowned.  There must be something really important that she has to get to.  Then she rummaged through her bag, took out her phone and punched in a few numbers.  She let out a frustrated growl.  I’ve seen her like this a few times and believe me when I say it’s scary.

 

I decided to just chill.  We couldn’t be here long.  I mean really, has anyone ever gotten stuck in an elevator for more than a few minutes?  Needing to talk, I asked (almost stupidly), “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?”

 

“Do I look like I know?  I’m not a freaking fortune-teller!  You go figure it out!”

 

I raised a brow.  “Yeesh, there’s no need to be so irate just because we’re stuck here.”  I leaned against the metal wall and slid down to the ground.  “Let’s… just keep ourselves entertained while we wait for someone to get us out.”

 

That seemed to calm her somewhat and she leaned against the opposite wall.  Not really liking the silence, I began to sing the ‘Joyful, Joyful’ song.  It was one of those songs that I wished we sang while she was still in high school, but at the time, she said that it was ‘way to overdone – two other years she was in the choir, they did the same song.’  I kept on singing when I noticed that she noticed I was singing.

 

Now I pride myself on my voice.  I met a few people who have decent voices, but I genuinely think I sing well.  I mean, would the girls be hanging off of me if it wasn’t for my voice?  Okay so maybe there are a few things like the fact that I’m a skinny guy who does triathlons and all that, but still, I think the voice is the hook.

 

Well anyway, I was just singing and she seemed to be reacting to it.  I don’t know what it was exactly that was crossing her face but it looked like she was trying to stop herself from singing along with me… I smiled a bit.  Now that’s not exactly the point, now is it?  “Come on, Jay,” I insisted.  “Sing with me.  It’ll keep us distracted.  How does the beginning go again?”

 

I already know how it goes, but I know that it’s one sure way of getting her to sing.  “I don’t want to sing right now,” she spat out.  Okay, then again, maybe another approach.

 

“Come on, you have a great voice!”  Stroking one’s ego always got someone to sing.  “You know you want to sing!  Come on… was it… Joyful, joyful, Lord we adore thee… come on, finish it up!”

 

She finally relented and began to sing, but stopped after the first verse.  I felt myself getting hyped up.  “Okay, now you sing the melody and I’ll do the harmony!  Go!”  Then I began to sing, expecting her to follow suit.  Now, I had just recently recovered from a cough so when I hit the high parts, I kind of cracked and veered off the main pitch.  I noticed Jay cringe and stopped to clear my throat.

 

“Sorry, I kind of lost my voice,” I apologized.  When I tried again, I still went off course and decided to stop.  “Ah, never mind…” I said shortly, trying to hide my embarrassment by thinking of something new to talk about.  “Oh, guess what, Jay?  I just joined this really good acoustic group!  They’re all grad students in UP and the girl who’s in it can play the guitar and piano!  I’m their lead singer.”

 

“That’s great,” she complimented.  Her voice sounded so tired.  It was a good thing I didn’t ask her to join us.

 

“Yeah it is.  They actually needed another vocalist in their group at the time.  I would have asked you, but you always seemed so wired.  You’re still really busy these days aren’t you?”

 

“Yeah.”  Again with the short answers.  You got to hand it to her; she doesn’t ramble all that much.  Not like me…

 

“Okay, so, yeah, it wouldn’t really work out with all of us if I had asked you.  You probably wouldn’t be able to make it to the practices.”

 

She didn’t speak after that comment and she seemed like she was on the verge of tears.  Perhaps she was hoping that I had asked her.  I don’t know.  I decided that talking about it would only make things worse.  So I left her alone for a while.

 

~~ o0o ~~

 

Six hours; that’s how long it took for the maintenance people to get us out.  We had spent the first two hours singing and talking on and off, but after a while she told me that she needed to study and brought out her text book and began to read.  At some certain points, I felt myself squirm so I couldn’t help but ask her random questions – how the reading was coming along or what it was on – but then she seemed so immersed in the words that I decided to give her some space.

 

When she finally put the book down five hours had past.  She occupied herself with screaming at the top of her lungs and pounding her fists against the elevator door.  I had told her that what she was doing to her voice wasn’t good and she just looked at me like I was some sort of alien and just went on screaming and punching.  This lasted for a whole half hour and finally some guys heard us.

 

It took an hour to get us out but just as the last thirty minutes rolled by, I heard my phone go off.  I had forgotten all about it.  I brought it out and found myself talking to a drunk Cornelia (just as I had suspected) and she began talking gibberish.  It took a while to put down the phone but I did.

 

When I looked at Jay, she looked so mad… as in absolutely angry that she was about to explode.  Then she started ranting… and ranting… and screaming… and swearing… it was the scariest thing I’ve ever heard.  It also hurt.  Like there were all these things that I didn’t think she had felt until that moment when she told me all the things that pissed her off about me.

 

When she finally stopped I was speechless.  I mean what do you do when someone you think you know does that kind of stuff to you?  You don’t know.  She was the first to jump out when the doors were open.  I sort of lingered there for a few seconds after and then finally got the wits to get out.  Once out side I felt myself grow angry.  She doesn’t know me!  How can she say those things!  I’m not arrogant or oblivious!  With my brows knitted together I stomped up the last two flights of stairs to complain to Cornelia – wasted or not she was going to hear about this.

 

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