By Paul Riches
His feet flails about as he hurtles into the room. It did not matter what nuisance betrays his entrance, what obstruction snarls his limbs, all of the thoughts are on the mission. Protecting the lovely he clutches in his hands.
Ignoring his sparse surroundings, he races the last few steps to a mattress lying crookedly at an angle to the rest of existence. One blue blanket, all tussled up, adorns a far corner of the mattress like a forgotten friend. Sliding his heels against one edge, his body slowly escapes from tension. A smile fills his face followed by a quick dash to land backwards on the mattress. His body is met with loud creaking springs and everything shifting over a bit, causing wobbly legs to pop off the floor as the rest of him settles. The cargo still firmly nestled within the cradle of his hands.
“Beautiful” he mutters. “Beautiful.”
Only the bare walls responds back with silence. Bed and blanket do much the same. Only a slight breeze traveling through the open door gives any indication the universe at large cares. None of which mattered to the man sitting on the bed, completely enraptured and caressing his treasured prize.
Flipping and fondling it over and over again in his hands, excitement forcing his fingers to poke and probe every button, every switch. He knew certain things, but not all certain things, but he knew this black slim object of beauty was called a smartphone of some such. And now it was his. All his.
“Found you on the subway.” he responds giddily to one. “Just lying their, just waiting for me.”
Now he has the internet. Now he has a phone. All sorts of other wonderment is now at his fingertips. He would somehow, someway, learn how to use his new toy. What everyone else all over possessed was now in his grasp.
Frantic fingers snap the device into something he recognized as a calendar. Several minutes joyfully pass by as he manages to erase assorted bits and pieces about dentists and such. Now, if he ever ventures to a dentist, it would be proudly displayed inside his trophy. All parts of his life could now be mapped out, putting destiny in his sight for the first time. Gently typing away, he enters “Found You” onto today’s date. It makes sense as his first entry.
Time passes by all around him, moving on and on, with nary a care registering to his demeanor. What preoccupied him was what mattered. Checking the temperature, reading the review of a local restaurant, following a boggling array of texts about laundry and such, looking up his name online, seeing an article online about some book with a trident on the cover, and randomly entering various words into the dictionary, all became a sport of love. Every click is a new discovery. Every click makes his life better.
And another click on another button, out of what seems like the hundreds he was exploring, led to him exhaling profusely.
“Edison” barely escaping his lips.
Immediately playing with the zoom, the camera was now before him. Inquisitive fingers ply and quest until the pictures appear for him. Myriad shot of blurry shrubs, a wooden table of some kind, and a foot resting on a dirty tile floor, pass by his eyes with no comment or thought reflecting outward. Moments of the previous owners life all parading by his momentous grin.
As the images blur into a collective mass, his edgy fingers halt their progress as one photograph appears magically to him.
He emits a “Wow” as his eyes swallows the event greeting him.
Filling the screen was a picture of a woman. Appearing slightly off center with her head angled and turning towards the camera, blonde shoulder length hair caught swaying in the motion. A big wide smile, laced with perfect pearly white teeth, fills her face. Joyfully clenching her eyes shut, most likely from the ambush of the flash, his happy imagination quickly paints her eyes a vivid shade of blue. Slightly to the right of her chin and vaguely inhabiting the background, appears something resembling a cake.
Several moments lapse by as he marvels at her existence. Open eyes stare into closed eyes. She was turning to face him, say hello to him, talk and stay and chat with him. The conversation continues on until his finger finally, through sheer impulse, moves back to the remainder of the album.
Shrub. Table. Floor. Blurry. Wooden. Dirty. Everything whirls by, barely causing a ripple of movement in his vacant smile. The real smile was still back with the girl with the closed blue eyes. Trying to move on, keep going, and master all the other bits and pieces of his new prize. More journeying online, bouncing from site to site, absently checking the temperature again. The dictionary is still a fun diversion.
Freezing his hands for a second, then forcing resistant fingers to go back through the innards to find her smile again. Instantly she was saying hello to him a second time.
“Hello Sally!” he chimes to Sally. “This is Sally everyone!”
The walls, bed, blanket and open door do not respond at all this time. Not even an errant breeze greets the arrival of Sally. This rudeness was not noticed by him, as evidenced by his wide smile growing with each passing second. It is all Sally and him now.
“Like the place Sally?” he asks as he waves the phone through the air, showing Sally her new home. “Like the tour?” he inquires. Sally and her swaying blonde hair do not answer. Sally’s closed blue eyes never see the bare walls or enjoys the blanket’s company. The open door just stares back at Sally. Neither cares for the other.
“Was it your birthday?” he queries, cocking his head to the side, mimicking the angle Sally was living in. “I won’t ask you how old you are, that would be rude.” Sally’s closed eyes do not betray any annoyance at him. This makes him happy.
Carefully holding Sally in one hand, he shifts and moves the rest of his form in order to lay down on one side. Fetching the blanket from its earlier resting place, he quickly unwinds and scatters it out over himself. Tucking his shoes under one end while pulling the rest taunt up to his ears, everything slowly settles in for the night.
“It was great to finally have met you Sally,” he whispers so as to not displace the quiet of the night. Sally was up tight to his face, with him holding the phone gently. His head rests on the mattress, still trying to imitate Sally’s angle.
“Are you happy you finally have met me?” he asks hopefully.
Sally’s closed blue eyes, perfect teeth and blonde hair say nothing.
“Yeah” he breathes, “yeah.”
Finding Sally is Copyright 2012 to Paul Riches
You can also read, comment, and vote on Finding Sally on Wattpad. Just click here.
First published on Saturday, April 21st, 2012