Apartment
2B ©
by Mercedes Pecunia approximately 3320 words
MILLICENT
I have known Nettie all my life. I can’t recall a
time when weren’t friends. As kids, my mom always made me go to her house for
birthday parties and her parents did the same. I even have pictures of us, in
my closet somewhere, playing in the playpen. Our grandmothers lived in the same
building and were close friends. Then, our mothers became friends, and
eventually we followed in their footsteps. I really liked Nettie, but as
people, we were entirely different. Even as kids, we had major disagreements. I
remember one time she came over to play with me. We began playing with my
Barbie and Ken dolls. Somehow, she managed to decapitate one of them. I was so
angry with her. I knew she was sorry for what she had done, but I could not
control my temper and demanded that she leave immediately. She did leave and I
did not see her again until five years later when we were both preadolescents.
Nettie had lovely bright hazel-green eyes, very
straight light brown hair, full pink pouty lips, and a large broad nose. She
was very outgoing and loved to flirt with the boys from a young age. She seemed
to be very aware of her female form. I, on the other hand, had wavy brown hair
and almond shaped brown eyes. My face was powerfully sharper, much more
chiseled. I was very shy as a teenager
and felt very awkward around the opposite sex.
Over the years, Nettie and I went through good
times and bad times as all long-term friendships do. We became closer in our
teenage years until eventually, in our adulthood, we became roommates, sharing
her mother’s old apartment. Before moving in, I purchased a queen sized bed,
had a rug installed, painted the walls of my room, bought some odd pieces of
furniture, and began a thorough cleansing of the premises. I wanted everything
to be perfect before my six-year-old daughter, Monica was allowed to bring her
toys and belongings to our new nest.
I had always been hesitant to enter this
particular room. From the time we were kids, strange things happened in this
room. The room was always unusually cold and once inside, one felt "a
heaviness" in the atmosphere. It was a very strange feeling and one that
is rather complicated to describe. A few times, the plywood plank within the moldings
of the door would resonate as if someone were frantically pounding on it from
the other side of the door. We would always lock the door since we naively
believed that by shutting the door, the room would get warmer, but that never
happened. Even with the radiator at its highest, the room never seemed to feel
comfortable. Sometimes, the knocking was so violent, that the wood would
actually bend and cave in almost entirely. We always feared that it would break
apart, explode, but it never did. The first few times this happened, we thought
Nettie’s mother had returned and was going to catch us crowded in her room
playing hooky from school, but to our surprise there was not anyone there. We
would inspect the apartment thoroughly only to discover we were still alone.
Eventually, this became so frequent that we learned to ignore the violent
beatings on the bedroom door.
When Nettie decided which room I would be staying
in, she assigned me her mother’s old bedroom.
I seriously considered not moving in at all, but I tried to curb my
impulses and forget the uncanny experiences that were still fresh in my mind.
Once I had finished the few repairs and the decorating of my new bedroom, the
room gradually began to feel warmer. It seemed to undergo some kind of transformation.
It was no longer the drafty, dusty, and desolate room it had been once before.
I recall a particular Friday morning. Nettie had
found her old answering machine in a closet and placed a blank tape inside of
it. She connected the wiring to our phone line and told me that until she
recorded our incoming message, I should answer the phone. It was my day off
from work so after she left for work, I began watching TV and fell asleep.
After my midmorning nap, I went into the living room on my way to the kitchen.
On the way back from the kitchen, I noticed the number three flashing on the
circular digital display. I pushed the play button and heard a man’s voice,
"It is May 13th, the time is 10:25 a.m." There was the
usual beep, and then, a message from Nettie’s mom, reminding her of some menial
task she had promised she would take care of for her. Another beep. The second
message began "It is May 13th, the time is 11:05 a.m." and
a message from one of my boyfriends followed. Another beep. The third message
began playing, "It is May 13th and the time is 11:40 a.m."
The voice of the man announcing the date was low but powerful, eerie, and
somewhat muffled as if coming from a far distance. It was almost otherworldly.
For some reason, the voice replayed in my head, it haunted me and would not
leave me. And, the date was not May 13th. In fact, it was mid summer
so I began searching for a button that would allow me to correct the date, but
I could not find any. When Nettie returned that evening, I asked her if she
would please correct the timestamp on her machine.
"Millicent are you crazy? There is no
timestamp on this machine" she retorted. I insisted that I had heard the
man’s voice announcing the same date three separate times. Nettie had always
been a prankster so I again urged her to do what I asked. Finally, in order to
convince me, she played back the messages. I heard her mother’s voice
immediately after the initial beeps that followed her pressing the play button.
Then, I heard the second and third caller’s voices. Indeed there was no date
and no other voice. We even had another friend call us to test the incoming
call mechanism and still no unearthly utterances. Could that voice have been a
figment of my imagination? It just could not be! It seemed so real. She played
the rest of the entire tape, which was blank. I could not understand what had
happened, and I sat on the black leather couch staring into space. All kinds of
random thoughts were rushing through my mind. I held my hand to my open mouth
and took a deep breath. At that moment, I heard Nettie say, "Maybe someone
was trying to tell you something." She chuckled and walked away.
For a few weeks after that, I allowed Nettie to
review the transmissions on the answering machine. I would always make sure she
was in the room when I listened to the recordings that had been left for us.
Eventually, my fears were quelled, but every time I push that button, I shudder
at the thought of ever hearing that cryptic voice again.
SANDRENE
Millicent and I worked together in the Admissions
Office at a successful community college in Queens, NY. She was a good friend
to me when I truly needed one. Ever since I left my home in Barbados, I have
been very lonely. I had no choice but to leave my family and friends behind in
order to follow my dream of studying Nutrition in an American university. I
presently live with my cousin, Dianne, but we do not see things on equal terms.
She can be very harsh and cruel at times.
Millicent and I socialized regularly in and out of
the workplace. One day, Millicent stated she wanted to go to the graduation
party cruise the College was having for the students. We had so much fun the
night of that magical boat ride. We danced, we drank, we ate and Millicent made
me try Tequila shots for the very first time. Afterwards, we returned to her
new place. At bedtime, I rolled my hair up as usual and placed a hair net over
it. I brushed my teeth and said my evening prayers.
Millicent preferred the left side of the bed, the
one facing away from the wall. I was so tired I did not care which side I slept
on. I lay my head on the pillow and immediately began drifting off to sleep. I
felt someone sit on the edge of the bed. I thought Millicent must have gotten
up to go to the bathroom. I shifted in the bed and fell back asleep again.
Then, I felt someone shoving my feet to one side. I thought I must have kicked
Millicent in my sleep. So, I moved over to one side and continued resting. In
my sleep, I felt a heavy weight on my feet that finally woke me. It felt as if
someone was sitting on my feet. I struggled to move them about, but I could
not. I shot up and opened my eyes wide looking about, I didn’t see anyone
there, and I was able to move my feet once again. I thought I must have been
having a vivid nightmare and ignored it. The very last time I was wakened, I
felt a chill. I sat up on the bed, and saw Millicent sleeping peacefully next
to me. I looked for the blanket and found it bundled in a corner next to my
feet. I pulled at the blanket, and for a second, I could not pull it back with
me. It felt as if someone was holding it or even sitting on top of it. I
frowned and thought to myself for a few moments. This must be the
"friend" Millicent told me about. "Listen to me, I want to go to
sleep and I am very cold. Please let me have the blanket and tomorrow I will
not be here anymore." Suddenly, the blanket was released from its hold and
I quickly covered myself. Somehow, I knew I would not be disturbed for the
remainder of the evening.
The next morning, I told Millicent what had
happened. She was toasting some bread for me in the kitchen. She smiled at me,
and seemed relieved that I was so calm. "I am sorry you had to go through
that." She said. "Don’t worry
about it. I know he was just trying to lie where he usually did next to you
while you slept." Her eyes opened wide and she nodded and took a sip of
her coffee. I left her home that afternoon, keeping my promise to the unsettled
gentleman I had bargained with the night before.
CHLOE
I was spending the weekend at my big sister’s. Her
annoying roommate, Millicent and her had gone out so I had a few friends over
to keep me company. After my girls left, I showered. I loved what those two had
done with the bathroom. They had hung nice healthy plants near the window and
placed pastel green curtains and rugs to decorate the rest of the room. They
had even installed a new medicine cabinet with double mirrors. I brushed my
hair. And after I had finished, I put the brush down and went into the living
room to watch TV. I fell asleep watching a late movie.
Nettie and Millicent came back really late. Nettie
shook me awake and began yelling at me, something about the bathroom. I
automatically sat up on the couch and followed her. I saw red nail enamel
splattered all over the floor, it had been smeared on the transparent shower
curtains, and some of it had somehow made it to the walls and the mirrors of
the new medicine cabinet. Nettie was very angry. I saw the small broken bottle
on the tiled floor next to the toilet. Nettie picked up the broken glass and
looked at me "Chloe!" she snorted. "Nettie, I didn’t do
it." I answered innocently.
"How can you say that? Isn’t this your nail
polish?"
"Yes, but the bathroom was clean before I
went to bed."
"Were any of your friends over?"
"Nettie, yes, but I’m telling you… The
bathroom was clean before I went to bed and they had already left."
"Chloe, you know I don’t want your friends
here when I am not home."
We argued over this for at least a half-hour
afterwards. She would not believe me, and made me help her remove the messy
enamel. I was really angry with her for not trusting me, not believing me, and
decided I would not return to her house until things blew over.
I waited a few weeks before calling her again. I
called her at work one afternoon, and told her I was coming over to visit her.
I told her I would go hang out with my friends first, and then stop over at her
place. She told me she was very tired and to knock very loudly in case she fell
asleep.
At 2:00 am, I pounded on Nettie’s door for over
fifteen minutes. The neighbors had opened their door and peered through to see
what was happening. Nettie slept so soundly when she was tired. I tried calling
her on the phone before I arrived, but no one had answered. Just when I was
getting ready to go back downstairs and call again from the pay phone on the
corner, the door popped open. I stood there for a second. I reached for the
doorknob and pushed the door back as I entered the apartment. No one was
standing there. Nettie must have run back to bed. I came in and removed my
jacket throwing it on one of the chairs in the hallway. I opened the door in
Nettie’s room and said, "Nettie are you awake?" I heard no answer. I
tiptoed closer to my sister, but she was still sleeping. I shrugged and thought
Millicent must have gotten up to open the door for me. However, there is no way
I am going to go knocking on her door to find out.
The next afternoon, when I woke up, Nettie asked
me how I had gotten into the apartment. At that moment, Millicent was passing
by and conveniently overheard the conversation as she always did. She had a
real talent for this type of thing. "It wasn’t me," she said.
"So then it must have been Monica." I answered. "I locked the
bedroom door last night and Monica is not tall enough to reach it yet."
Millicent responded. I knew she must have been lying. She always managed to get
me in trouble with my sister. When I came in last night I didn’t see her run
back in her room, but I know it must have been her.
RICK
I lived with Nettie for two years before Millicent
moved in. Nettie and I had a good arrangement. Ever since her man left her, she
let me move in. I would give her money, and she would let me bring girls over.
I worked in a dance club in downtown Manhattan. I had many different girls. In
fact, I could have a different girl each night of the week if I wanted to.
There was no need for that though. Once you find a good thing, it makes sense
to stick with it. I had a few favorites. All I needed was a place to go when
they wanted to show me how much they liked me.
When I first moved in, my room was real dirty. The
vinyl and plywood bar set, which had been in the living room, was now kept in
there. I never bothered to fix up the place. All I needed was a bed, which
there was, and a place to put my stuff. Every once in a while, when I wanted to
impress a special lady, I would arrange my baseball caps on the wall according
to the order of my favorite teams. I had a cap for every day of the month, but
some I didn’t wear because I wanted to keep them looking new. Of course, this
did not stop Nettie’s little sister from coming in every once in a while and
borrowing one. Sometimes, she would return them, and sometimes, she would just
keep them and swear she didn’t do it. That girl was real good at lying.
During the time I lived there, Nettie always told
me we had a ghost in the house. Nettie was a levelheaded girl, and it was very
out of character for her to make a claim like that. But, she would not let it
go. She used to say that the ghost lived in my room. I never saw or felt
anything out of the ordinary. The only thing that struck me as being weird was
the fact that the room was always freezing cold. There was a radiator right
next to the window, and I hardly ever opened the window. One time, I ran my
fingers across the pane of the window looking for drafts, but there were was no
air coming in. It was as if the coldness was coming from within the room
itself. I always thought this was weird, but it wasn’t enough to give up such a
sweet deal.
NETTIE
Since I was a child, I had been hearing a man’s
voice calling to me. I would hear this haunting whisper mostly when I was
alone. Sometimes, I would be watching TV in the living room and hear his voice
calling me from my mom’s old bedroom, which I had occupied as a child. When I
would go in and search for him, I would never find anyone waiting for me.
However, I always knew he was there watching me, protecting me. My mom and dad
would have bitter fights that lasted for hours; I would retreat into my room
and cry myself to sleep. My parents went through a bad divorce. This voice was
my only comfort at times. I knew that even when things got really bad, he would
always be there with me, and he would never let anything happen to me.
A few years before my family moved into this
apartment, a man was said to have lived here. He fell in love with a very
beautiful woman and they lived together for a while. But for some unknown
reason, his lover left him suddenly. He was overtaken with grief and took his
own life by hanging himself in his bedroom. For some time after that, no one
wanted to rent our apartment. Finally,
the landlord, in an attempt to recover some lost revenue, rented my mother the
apartment "dirt cheap".
The neighborhood people are a very superstitious bunch. They believed that a suicide could never rest in peace. Being that this man died in this very apartment, it would be natural that he would linger here. All I know is that the spirit that lives with us is benign. He is sometimes mischievous and seems to enjoy scaring visitors. He seems to dislike men for the most part, but I can’t imagine what life would be like without him. He has always been with us. He spoke to me and protected me when I was a child. He watched over my friend Millicent’s child while they lived with me. And now, he watches over my own little girl. From time to time, I think he must be very sad because he is an eternal prisoner of his own passions, but maybe he tries to make up for it by keeping an eye on us. Maybe one day, he will do enough good to earn himself a place in heaven. Maybe. Just maybe.