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8
Eric
PARKER
It’s Thursday afternoon, it’s raining and I’m at the Anthology Film Archives because they’re showing a range of black and white movies including a 1939 version of Wuthering Heights.
Icy sheets of rain pelt across the streets, soaking the black tar as a silver-blue cloud of fog rises around me when I rush across the road to the brown bricked building.
My skin is cold and wet as I head into the theater, wrapping my coat around my body.
I get a ticket and head into the screening room with only a handful of other people and take a seat right in the front row.
The lights dim and the movie starts shortly as I settle back into my seat, pulled into the world of black and white.
It’s amazing and I can feel my gut ache with emotion, trying to capture the strange relationship between Heathcliff and Catherine. I figured if I couldn’t get enough of the book, I had to see a screening of it too. The entire room is filled with overwhelming silence right till the very end of the movie.
The haunting love between Heath and Cathy weighs heavy on my chest. Their relationship almost feels too real that it makes me numb with familiarity although it’s a work of fiction. It’s silly and I shouldn’t be comparing my relationship to a classic, but there’s a darkness in Hudson that reminds me of Wuthering Heights—and Heathcliff to be specific.
I leave the theater feeling unsettled. The rain isn’t going to give up now, so I linger in the dark undercover of the building, hoping to get a cab as quickly as possible when I turn and see him standing a few feet away from me.
His face is so familiar. I rack my brain to place a name on him and when he turns his head completely in my direction I remember it.Eric.The guy that shared the cab with me on the morning of my internship.
At first, he frowns when he sees me, a look of bewilderment clutches his expression until his face settles with recognition and he walks over to where I am standing.
His skin is pale from the cold air and his eyes are a brilliant blue. “Hello, there. How on earth did you and I both happen to be at the same place, same time in a city of more than eighteen million people?”
I shrug, my face heating up. “I have no idea. You’re Eric, right?”
He smiles and nods. “Yes, and you’re Parker. Perhaps fate wanted us to meet again.”
Now it’s my turn to smile. “I don’t believe in fate.”
He quirks a dark eyebrow. “What do you believe in then?”
“Coincidences,” I say, as I take in a rush of cold air.Cold weather in New York sucks.“When you left the cab the other day, I have to say, it was quite mysterious, the way you disappeared through that darkened alley. Almost like Bruce Wayne, before returning in the bat suit.”
“Oh no. I’m not as charming though.” He laughs—it’s an eerie musical sound—and it sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m afraid you’ve discovered my hideout.”
“What hideout?” I ask, sounding a little too inquisitive.Almost reminds me of my landlady.
He leans in closer, a small smile tugging at his full lips. “Would you like to see it?”
The words in my mouth disappear and I look up at him not sure if he’s joking or serious, so I playfully ask, “So, you lure random girls into going with you to this dark, mysterious hideout? Are you a serial killer?”
Eric doesn’t laugh but does smile after a few moments of silence. “I’m not. But since you think it’s dark and mysterious, I’d love for you to see the place and from there you can make your deductions of me.”
“It’s a Thursday afternoon…” I trail off.
Eric shakes his head. “I barely know you and there are already excuses. I swear to God. I won’t harm you. I share the apartment with a roommate. You’ll be quite safe.”
More silence ensues and Eric walks backward slowly, his long black coat around his broad shoulders.
My phone pings and when I glance at the screen I see one new message from Hudson.
Dinner at my place? I miss you—H
And then I look up at Eric again and he holds his hands up as another strike of thunder and lighting whips across the sky, electrifying the air.
