James, Don't Falter - 3. Thursday, My Anomaly

Thursday was an aberration. The sun decided to rise for the first time in months, or maybe it was the dreary overcast sky that decided to diminish, and unlock the trapped sun behind it. Either way I could see the yellow glow up high, and feel the streaks of warmth for the first time since August. Maybe the wintry air ran off to torture another city.

I could walk without a jacket that Thursday. I called James and asked him to join me, anticipating his enthusiastic response. I know summer is his favorite season and the day was the closest thing to summer we would see for a long time, especially since spring was still distant. James declined. His voice met mine with a harsh and deliberate no. I don’t want to walk today. Not with you.

I put my phone away and continued walking down my block, mindlessly turning at the corners, and turning again until I zigzagged into another neighborhood. I couldn’t sort out his words. They were foreign just like the weather, peculiar even, spoken with such disdain. Was that even James I talked to? I honestly didn’t know.

I passed a woman in a pink jogging suit walking her suburban German Sheppard and I tried to return the benevolent smile she offered up, but the ends of my mouth barely curved; they only twitched. I couldn’t be nice right now, or happy even, when James rejected me for no reason.

I ended up in James’ neighborhood. In front of his house, standing with my hands in my pockets, confusion on my face, and a breeze on my skin that reminded me that the day was an aberration as it whispered its plans to bring winter storming back. His family’s quaint brick veneer was illuminated by the sun, except for the left half which was shaded by the sycamore that must have been decades old. I watched the house as if I could see inside, see James reading or doing chores, see James doing anything but walking with me.

For minutes I willed James to come outside or to peer outside and see me standing vulnerable in the middle of this aberration, but he didn’t. The household didn’t move, unlike me, who couldn’t stop swaying against the wind. Through the living room window I could see the brilliance from a tv but I couldn’t make out the show. I stood watching the vivid channels flick, not because I was trying to follow the shows, but because it was the only thing from the house that was moving.

After a while, I silently accepted James’ rejection and began my first steps home, hesitating on the sidewalk like a pirates’ victim hesitates while walking the plank, fighting their steps with reluctance, while the fear of perishing by hungry sea monsters consumes them. My head was down, and my eyes locked on the intricate spaces between grains of cement and crevices of earth. I felt small enough to fit inside them. Then I heard James. Not his voice, but his breath; he was quickly pacing across his porch barefoot, taking out the trash. The sun may have been out, but the pavement was still kissed by December, and was cold as ice.

I stopped mid walk, and stumbled awkwardly, fighting a fall; I kept my balance though. The beginnings of my tumble must have caught his eye, for he glanced over at me and hesitated like I did when I decided to walk away. We stared waiting for either one of us to speak. Neither one of us did, even though I pleaded with my eyes for him to say something. He took one last look and proceeded to throw the trash away. As he walked back in his house, I caught a glimpse of a figure: tall, attractive, also barefoot. Then I got my answer. I had been replaced.

The walk home escapes my memory. I only remember a painful stinging feeling of hurt, regret, and anger that all danced as one inside my body. I could have walked for days. I may have. I walked past drug stores and gas stations. I walked past bus stops where dowdy characters sat awaiting their pickup. I walked until I could see the skyline, which soared and slanted and arced. I walked until the picket fences were replaced with highway exit signs, and the vicious roar of cars repeated every few seconds as I staggered under bridges and through a complex arrangement of this peculiar metropolis. And James tormented my thoughts every step of the way.