We walk down Steiner street after we eat. The food was decent. Not worth the price, but good enough where we didn't have to talk about it afterward. Olivia was nice to look at. I liked the way her upper thighs rubbed together as she walked. That was something I noticed but said nothing of to him. Her silhouette in the window was shaped like a fresh picked pear. And that smile. I could sit there and drink water with lemon and order nothing all day and just look at that smile. I would have to go back. She was beautiful and I wish I'd never met her the way I did. Not that it wasn't a romantic kind of way, but to order from someone you admire is a kind of awkward thing. It puts one in an uncomfortable position. You want to take that person out of their place and put them into someplace better. Who am I to judge? Maybe she enjoys it there. He didn't seem to show any signs of care or wear.
We continued to walk down Steiner until we passed over Lombard street. The traffic was already thick with cars and their horns. A hummer, lazy and rolling, has a driver inside with thick black sunglasses and all the windows down. It's not even very hot yet. The music inside is loud and is a mix of rap and mariachis. After we cross the street, I notice a pizza place standing on the corner and a long line is coming out of it. It looked very busy for being so early in the morning. It is only 11:15. He looks at the line too, but says nothing. He's been very quiet and moves with very light footsteps. I hope nothing is wrong.
"Jesus," I say, "Look at that place." I point at the pizza joint.
He nods, "Who needs pizza at a time like this? It's so early."
"It is Saturday," I shrug, "All bets are off."
"They'll be in bed by 1, guaranteed."
We cross chestnut street, which is bustling with people already. A few joggers **** by us as we pass a pair of miniature pugs. Their tongues are both out, dangling like a worm on a hook. In front of us, two women walk in their skin tight yoga pants and I force myself to look away. Too tempting. I can see every curve. He sees them to and steals a few glances, pretending he's looking at a parking sign or the details of a lime green Prius parked next to a fire hydrant. There are many people out and I wonder where they all came from and why they are all up so early. I wonder the same of myself and shut up.
I stop. "You ever eaten there?" I ask, pointing to a hole in the wall taco stand. It's closed, but we can both see the chefs and front of house people moving around inside getting ready for the lunch rush. "Their best is the fish taco with freshly picked cilantro, some kind of spicy, thousand island, grilled red onions, and lime on the side. Very good."
"I'll have to go there the next time I'm in the city," he says.
"Definitely," I say, "The next time you're in, we'll go there."
I ask myself what I'm really doing here in my head. Not out loud. I don't hear an answer, so I try again. You want to talk to him about the phone call. Why? Because she called you and he knows that she called you and you two haven't once spoken about it since. Can't it just be one of those unspoken things where we both know what happened and never talk about it? Sure, it could be. You could leave it in the dirt and let it rot there like a dead rat, molding and boiling in the sun for another little rat to come along and eat it. That's graphic and grotesque. Well, it's what I see. You see a lot of things. Yes I do. Well, that is a very graphic thing to see that perhaps is not really even that big of a deal. It sounded like a big deal to her when she called you. I don't want to get involved. That's fine. They have their own problems just like I have my own problems. I can respect that, but it wouldn't hurt to say something. What will he do? Get offended or something that you picked up her phone call? You didn't have any choice after you picked up the phone. She started weeping and bawling hysterically. What would it look like if you just hung up on her?Yeah, you are right. That would've looked pretty bad. Very bad. Alright, I'll say something. Thanks. Thank me later. When then? Later.
At the ocean front, we sit on a bench and look out at the water. The waves rise, peak, froth, and fall reflecting the sunlight in their marble surface. A gull passes over us and squeals. It startles me, the little ******. I look up and catch a glance into its blank, black eyes. Their brains are the size of peas. Did you know that? He doesn't notice me jump. He is looking out at the water, silent. There's something powerful in not feeling the need to say anything and wading in true silence. It takes a certain amount of vulnerability, humility, and ***** to sit with another and admit that sometimes there just isn't a **** thing to say.
"She called me two weeks ago," I say.
"I know," he says, like there's no more words that need to be said.
"I called you also, but you didn't pick and didn't return my call."
"I know," he says again.
A female jogger passes by us in those skin tight, jet black yoga pants and we both steal a glance. Her **** is so firm it barely bounces as she runs.
"I don't see you guys that often," I tell him, "I don't need to get involved."
"She called you," he sighs, looking at me, "So she got you involved and I really wished she hadn't."
"I see that," I nod, "I don't like people getting in my **** either."
He turns his head side to side, stretching his neck, trying to crack it. I can tell he's getting nervous. I can sense it. Something gets released into the air when someone starts feeling like that. Some people call it tension or anxiety or some fancy name, but there isn't one. It's a feeling and he was feeling it everywhere.
"We're fine," he says, "We're actually doing better than we were."
"I don't need to know what's going on with you guys. She called me and just didn't know where you were. Naturally, I got worried about where you were because you're my friend."
He turns his hands face up. They are resting on his thighs. He opens and closes them, staring into his own palms. His breathing is short, silent and his eyes very soft, yet focused. There has always been something array with him and he knows and I know, really everyone knows it, but what this it is is mysterious, unnamed, uncategorized. There are labels that people give other people and he never had one. Not really. None that stuck and stuck. He was always changing. He was too quick.
I get up and walk to the edge of the waterfront. I look down and see the clear, jade blue water lap against the concrete. It slaps lightly against the wall, breaking the reflection of the sun into a million diamonds when it hits. There's no fish I can see, just some driftwood and scattered trash. He comes up beside me, but says nothing. There's no need to say anything. Silence rests in between our shoulders like a birds nest. I don't want to move for fear of dropping the eggs inside. We stand like that for a while.
"You can do whatever the hell you want," I tell him, "I'm just your friend and I would hate to see something happen to you."
"I know," he nods, tightening and relaxing his jaw.
"You have friends in town, not just me. If you need anything though, same with her, I'm always there. I'm always around."
"I appreciate that," he says. He turns to look at me, "I really do."
"It's true. I've known you a long time."
"Same here," he smiles, "I've known you as long as you've known me."
"That's true. That is very true."
"Where to from here?" he asks. He turns away from the water and slides his sunglasses up onto his forehead.
"I don't know the area that well. Let's walk back up and see what we can get into."
He puts out his hand, stopping me, "Thanks Roger."
I take his hand, "You don't have to thank me, but you're welcome."
"It's hard to a find a friend you can truly rely on. Everybody's got their own agendas nowadays."
"Well," I say, "Its part of my agenda for my friends to not do anything ******* stupid. Don't know why, but that's just the way it is."
"That's good," he chuckles, letting go of my hand. We start to walk up the hill and he's still laughing a little to himself, "That's real good."
"Let's get a drink?" I ask.
"Let's get a drink," he says.
