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As dinner continued, I was absolutely blown away when Elise revealed that her dad was none other than the Chuck Vaughn. The world shook. Everything I’d thought I’d known falling down around my ears.
It certainly wasn’t the first time. On the ‘holy shit’ scale, it ranked maybe a 3.2. Hero worship was not a vice I had. Just the same, I should have known. How many Vaughns could there be, even in a city that size? We had more in common than either of us ever considered, only compounding the tragedy.
All too soon, dinner ended, and we returned to our respective corners, the conclusion sadder than expected. It would have been great to talk to Elise alone, despite the bad blood that might remain. It would take time, but there was suddenly hope that we might at least be friends. Something I’d been pretty short on.
I had teammates, and people I hung around with, but that was mostly out of necessity. Nothing really clicked. Likely because none of them met the real me. There was a version I used, but it was but one fraction of the messy complex whole. Elise seemed like she could relate.
There would be other opportunities. We did basically live together after all. At least the tension might go down a little bit. The last thing either of us needed was more stress. The pandemic and the government already had that covered.
“Well, that was nice,” Dad declaimed as the door slammed behind us.
“Yup.”
“Elise is cute, hey?”
I forced a little smile, but even I had to agree. “Yeah, she is.”
“She’s single, you know,” Dad hinted, finally getting to his not-so-hidden agenda.
“You don’t say,” I remark drily.
“Oh, yeah, and she lives right next door.”
The wink would have been lecherous were it not so clumsy, bringing it to the level of hilarious and dorky.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See that you do,” Dad said, with a playful punch in the shoulder.
When he was safely in our kitchen, retrieving the bottle of vodka he iced as soon as he’d gotten home from his last day of employed labor, I retired to my room to think things over.
The choice was paralyzing. Nearly two hundred books, from pamphlets to hardcovers, lined up in alphabetical order by author, according to the year of publication. Mom used to joke that it looked like I was running a bookshop out of my room. Little did she know, I actually was. I read them all of course, but then sold them on, using the latest in online store technology.
The books I had at any one time were either to be read or waiting to be sold. They’d been sitting for a while since I’d gone to college, only able to take so much with me to the dorm. It shouldn’t take too long to reestablish a presence. It wouldn’t be much, but every little bit helped, with Dad out of work and me cut off from my scholarship. I’d just have to see how my interview went the next day. It was a possible we could even buy a new fridge and call a plumber about the bathroom.
The sound was sudden but wonderful, instantly recognizable. Time Bandits, one of the better films by Terry Gilliam. Even the critics liked it. Checking all the windows open on the screen, it became clear, the sound emanated from elsewhere. Through the wall from Elise’s room.
The two sides were mirror copies of each other, the designers clearly lacking in imagination. Or maybe in the way of money and materials, considering how thin the walls were. She probably didn’t even have it on that loud, considering the gap in the hall.
She really was nothing like I’d assumed. The isolation was real. I’d truly only ever seen her with Amber and/or Throne, but that was far from a band thing. There had to be something about her people liked. Something I’d been missing with my socially imposed blinders.
It was a mad thought, but one that came just the same. I wanted to see who Elise really was and was being presented with the opportunity. The usual way was out of the question, nothing new about that. Eschewing doors, and throwing tradition to the wind, I stepped through the gap in the wall, allegedly separating the two sides of the duplex. My fist met the wood of the door lightly.
“Hi,” Elise said, wearing nothing but an oversized T-shirt that hung on her like a dress.
“Hi,” I managed, trying to keep from looking at her legs, “Is that Time Bandits?”
“Yeah, is it too loud?”
“No, thin walls. I cloud probably hear a mouse fart. Can I watch too?”
She looked taken aback, but not displeased. “Um, sure.”
She stepped back, granting me access to her sanctum, my gambit working out better than I might have hoped. Taking up opposite sides of her bed, rendering even accidental contact an impossibility, we enjoyed the movie, as well as each other’s company.
