Pete Cawdron: Feedback

Jason turned away from the window and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was going to do this, but he felt chivalrous, as though she were some damsel in distress in need of rescue by a knight in shining armor. He grabbed an umbrella and headed out of his apartment and downstairs. Within minutes, he found himself standing in the rain with the umbrella limp by his side, telling himself he was crazy.

Lightning rippled through the sky. Thunder broke around him. The heavens opened and rain fell in a torrential downpour. Water rushed through the streets, swirling in the gutters.

Jason looked for traffic. The streets were empty. He ran diagonally across Columbus Ave, cutting across the intersection toward her. In the back of his mind, he hoped there were no cops around to bust him for jaywalking.

She was smiling.

Like him, she was dripping wet.

He opened his umbrella and held it over her head, saying, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she replied, pulling her wet, heavy hair away from the side of her face and behind her ear.

“I’m Jason.”

“Lily.”

She offered him her hand. He shook it, noticing how limp her fingers were. She felt unusually cold.

Lily was soaked. Her dark, black hair clung to the side of her neck. She was petite, wearing a plain white tank top and a short, floral skirt. A small purse hung over her shoulder, hanging by a thin strap.

“Thank you,” she said, looking up at the umbrella.

Standing there, it struck him that the umbrella was useless, or at least too late to be of any real use.

“Ah,” he said, smiling and trying not to laugh at how ridiculous he felt. He hadn’t thought through what he was going to say to her beyond hello. Now that he’d said hello, his mouth went dry and he struggled, not knowing quite what to say next. Impulsively, he blurted out, “Would you like to come in out of the rain?”

“I’m waiting for my father,” she said, ignoring his invitation. She pointed down the street. Jason looked down the street, following her gesture. There was no one there; no cars, no pedestrians, no buses.

“You’ve been waiting a long time,” he replied. “Would you like to come inside, dry off and warm up? I mean, I’m a nice guy. I’m not trying to hit on you or anything. I’m not some weirdo, honest. I just thought you might–“

“Sure,” she said, cutting him off and sparing him further embarrassment. Lily wasn’t wearing any makeup. Even so, her face radiated warmth. Despite the rain, her high set cheeks were rosy. Her teeth were pearly white and perfectly straight, at least they seemed to be at the glance he had when she smiled. Although she was soaking wet, Jason thought she looked beautiful.

They started walking across the street, with Jason trying to keep the umbrella over her. Lily laughed and he got the hint, dropping the umbrella to his side and surrendering to the rain.

“Rain is good,” she said. “Rain brings life.”

Jason was fascinated by her. There was a simple elegance to Lily, an understated beauty that seemed more than skin deep.

“Rain is fun,” Jason decided, jumping in a puddle. Water splashed up her legs. She laughed, jumping in the next puddle and splashing him back.

“Yes, it is,” she said, and they hopped and skipped through the puddles, splashing each other playfully as they made their way to his building.

Jason shook himself off in the entranceway of the building as Lily wrung her hair out, still laughing with him as she let her hair drip on the mat. He led her upstairs with giddy excitement. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt comfortable with her already. They’d barely spoken a dozen words between them, but Jason felt as though he could be himself in front of her, as though there was no need to try to impress her. He felt as though she accepted him for who he was. Although she was a complete stranger, Jason felt like he’d finally caught up with a long lost friend.

As he opened the door to his apartment he was horrified to see his unmade double bed immediately in front of him. A half-eaten box of Chinese take out sat on the messy sheets. Clothes were strewn across the floor. Lily didn’t seem to notice. She raised her eyes, as though she were surveying art work in a gallery. She was looking at the posters and pictures covering his walls. There were several striking images of Mars from the HiRISE camera on NASA’s Mars Reconnaissance Orbiter, along with an image taken by COBE: a map of the cosmic background radiation that still saturated the universe as the afterglow of the Big Bang. A tattered poster of the Andromeda galaxy hung next to the kitchen, while the wispy filaments of the Sloan Digital Sky Survey, mapping the location of millions of galaxies in deep space, was proudly displayed next to his desk.

Jason kicked some of the clothes to one side.

Lily squeezed around the bed, moving to the only open area within the cramped apartment, a section of worn linoleum between the desk and the kitchenette.

“I’m … I’m sorry it’s such a mess,” Jason spluttered. “I don’t normally have people over.”

“No. It’s wonderful,” she said, gesturing at the walls. “I love looking at scenes from outer space.”

Scenes, he thought curiously, that was an unusual way of describing posters. Scenes implied stories, actions, events. He liked that. Scenes were a better description of these images, given the timespan captured by each of the posters and the stories they told.

“Puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?” he said.

“Yes,” she replied, smiling. “In each of these scenes, you see beyond the confines of this small planet.”

In the bright light of his apartment it was apparent Lily wasn’t wearing a bra under her t-shirt. Jason wasn’t sure if he blushed, but he suddenly realized he was staring at her wet t-shirt while she gazed at the posters. The thin white cotton was all but transparent when wet, clinging to her body and accentuating her curves.

“I’ll get you a towel to dry off,” he said, his eyes dropping to the floor as he turned and grabbed a towel from the bathroom.

Lily shivered as he wrapped the towel around her shoulders. She sat down on a small loveseat jammed between his desk and the kitchenette, sitting sideways so she could stare out the window at the intersection as they talked. Jason sat on the bed, hurriedly straightening the covers.

“So, where are you from?”

“Korea,” she replied.

“Really? My parents are from Incheon, just west of Seoul.”

He wasn’t sure, but she seemed to blush as she replied, “I am from a small fishing village south of Sunwi-do.”

Jason hadn’t heard of Sunwi-do. He had only been to South Korea once to visit his grandparents, and only for a week. His recollection was of jet lag, thousands of people bustling along the sidewalks, and an astonishing assortment of neon lights and signs that put Times Square to shame. Seoul was the New York City of the East, a dazzling city that never slept.

“What’s your dad’s name?” he asked, picking up his phone and opening a browser to search for her father’s contact details. “I can look him up and we can give him a call. Let him know you’re OK.”

“Lee.”

“Is that his first name or his last name?”

“His name is Lee,” Lily insisted.

“OK,” Jason said, a little confused. “Do you have an address?”

“Columbus and West 67th.”

“Ah … that’s where we are,” Jason replied. “Do you have an address for Lee?”

Lily started to speak, but he cut her off, saying, “Columbus and West 67th, right?”

“Yes.”

Well, he thought, this isn’t quite what I expected.

“How long have you been in America?” he asked, shifting on the bed. Somehow, her uncertainty made him feel a little more at ease. He relaxed.