Pete Cawdron: Feedback

After several hours, a rumble in his stomach told him it was time for a break. The aging clock on the wall of his rundown kitchenette surprised him with 1 PM. He’d made good progress, having cranked out seven pages of theoretical discussion points.

Beside his computer, though, sat a pad of legal paper covered in symbols and drawings. Jason was barely aware he’d been scrawling on the pad as he immersed himself in the assignment. To the casual observer, his scribbles would be meaningless, just a bunch of Greek letters and math symbols. Even Professor Lachlan would have struggled to comprehend his notation, as it was an abstract representation A bunch of placeholders he’d arbitrarily assigned to explore different physical properties of subatomic particles. Ultimately, he knew calculus was a means of quantifying relationships, the only problem was that no one agreed with his notation.

Sweat dripped from his forehead. He got up and grabbed a Coke from the fridge and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for lunch. As he sat down, he noticed the girl again, still standing on the far corner of the intersection.

The sun was relentless, baking the city. Heat shimmered from the scorching concrete.

There was no shade on that corner, but there she stood looking the wrong way down a one-way street like she was waiting for someone to drive like a salmon against the flow of cars and pick her up. Her dark hair, pale skin and petite body seemed to be wilting in the heat like flowers left out of a vase.

Jason bit into his sandwich, wondering about her, curious about where she was from and where she was going. She clearly wasn’t a local. What was she doing in New York? Who was she waiting for? Why didn’t she stand back in the shade? Curious, he wondered what the story was behind her vacant stare. He popped open the can of Coke and sipped at the cool drink, enjoying the brief respite from the heat.

Jason had work to do. Staring at eye candy wasn’t going to help him get his master’s degree in physics. He focused his mind, having enjoyed the brief distraction, and got back to work.

Hours drifted by unnoticed.

The sun was setting when he next glanced out the window. Although he expected she would be long gone by then he half hoped to see her again. She had sparked his curiosity. For today, at least, she was his mystery woman.

Several pages of legal paper lay strewn on the ground, covered in apparent gibberish.

There she was. She looked like she hadn’t moved from the one slab of concrete he’d seen her on earlier that morning. In the back of his mind, he’d been vaguely aware of her standing there throughout the day, catching her occasionally out of the corner of his eye.

Jason checked his phone. It was half past six in the evening. He’d completed an intellectual marathon, or so he felt. His paper was finished. Well, he mused, physics revolved around relativity and uncertainty, and finished was a relative term, one that in his case carried a high degree of uncertainty. He knew he needed to spend at least a couple of hours reviewing his work before he was really finished.

Looking at her, he knew she had been out there for the better part of twelve hours. She must have moved, he thought. She couldn’t have stood there all day in the unrelenting sun. She had to have had something to eat, something to drink. She must have gone to the bathroom at some point, but if she had, he hadn’t noticed.

Jason stared down the road, wondering who she was waiting for. Whoever it was, they were really late.

Since traffic only went one way down the street and she was looking in the direction the traffic was traveling, he decided she must be waiting for someone on foot. He wondered if she would make a scene when they finally arrived. She must have been mad as hell standing there all day. That would make a good show, he thought, smiling to himself.

Storm clouds started to gather over the city. The temperature began to drop, bringing some welcome relief from the heat.

Jason grabbed some left over Chinese take out from his fridge and heated it in the microwave. He sat on the edge of his bed and ate as he watched the evening news, giving his mind a break from study. There were reports of a UFO sighting over Manhattan. Damn, he thought, it must have been a slow news day for that garbage to make it into the broadcast.

Jason knew what was coming before the phone rang. Sure enough, the news shifted to sports and Mitchell called.

“Did you see it?”

“I saw it,” Jason admitted, knowing he’d regret the discussion that was coming.

“I’m telling you, man. Aliens are real. UFOs are real. They’re buzzing Manhattan!”

“UFOs are real,” Jason countered, accentuating the word ‘are,’ agreeing with Mitchell while not agreeing at all. “By definition, UFOs are unidentified. But just because something is unidentified doesn’t mean it’s a flying saucer from Mars with little green men.”

Mitchell countered, saying, “Weather balloons, huh! You know, that’s getting a little old now.”

Jason laughed. “Venus rising, experimental military aircraft, and shimmering stars viewed through swamp gas are far more plausible explanations than aliens. Think about it. If someone can traverse dozens of light-years to get to Earth, why would they hide? How is that intelligent? They are supposed to be intelligent, remember?”

Mitchell took the bait. “Over fifty thousand Americans have experienced an abduction event.”

Jason smiled, trying not to laugh as he added, “And all of them live on remote farms in West Virginia.”

Rain began to fall outside, gently at first, but slowly building to a crescendo as the storm broke. Lightning crackled across the sky. The rumble of thunder drowned out the traffic.

Mitchell laughed. “I’m telling ya, aliens are real. This year marks the twentieth anniversary of the Incheon incident when a UFO crashed off the coast of North Korea. Anniversaries are like magnets to these guys. They’ll be back, mark my words. They will be back.”

Jason replied, saying, “Anniversaries are like magnets to those with tinfoil on their heads!”

“You’ll see. One day, you’ll see I’m right.”

“I doubt it,” Jason said, distracted as he wondered about the girl across the street. He got up from his bed and sat at the desk. She was still standing there in the rain, making no effort to shelter from the raging storm. The news switched to the weather forecast, distracting him. High nineties, low hundreds for the next five days, with evening storms. New York was going to be a sauna over the long weekend.

“Catch yah tomorrow,” Mitchell replied, ending the call.

A welcome breeze blew in through the open window. Jason found the sound of falling rain soothing, stunting the sounds and smells of the city, replacing them with a crisp scent of life and renewal. The temperature dropped considerably. Suddenly, the inside of his apartment was like the walk-in cooler at the liquor store.

Looking out into the night, he could see her still standing there staring down the road. The street was empty. With most of the city clearing out for the holiday weekend, the neighborhood was unusually quiet.

Jason stared at her for a few seconds. She glanced up at him and he was embarrassed. From her perspective, it must have looked like some creep was staring down at her from a window. In the darkness, she probably only saw a silhouette, but Jason still felt stupid, self-conscious. She was pretty. She probably had guys hitting on her all the time and hated the unwanted attention. She was probably staring at him thinking, “What the hell are you looking at, weirdo?”

Jason wasn’t sure why, but he waved. In a way, he felt connected to her, as though they shared something in common having endured the unbearably hot day together. It was silly, and must have looked creepy, but he waved anyway, just wanting to be friendly. She waved back, but not enthusiastically. Just a slight shake of her wrist, never raising her hand above her waist.