RENTALS
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Rentals was the result of a writing exercise I took part in with my friends. I wrote the part in blue, and then we all finished it on our own and shared what we’d come up with. Perhaps one day I’ll reach out to them and see if they still have their version!
RJ
I was distracted by the mud on her shoes.
"Do we have a deal?" she asked, frustrated.
"We have a deal."
She handed me a white envelope. It had four numbers written along the side.
"Is this it?"
"This is all you need."
I slid the envelope between the pages of a John Steinbeck novel and put it back in my jacket pocket.
"When do I-"
"When I've left" she snapped.
The distorted speakers played a mix of REM and The Cranberries, and some guy in front of us said “10 please.”
“How easy was it to find?” I asked, trying to pick apart my shoelaces with my fingernails.
“What do you think?” She said.
The guy in front was with his girlfriend. She put her shoes up on the counter. “6 please.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. They both left the queue with their rental shoes in hand, walking towards a bench near the pick ‘n mix.
“I just mean-“
“I know what you meant,” she said, putting her shoes in front of the assistant, “8 please.”
Somewhere down the lanes, a birthday kid got a strike and yelled.
She picked up her new shoes. The red and black squares of leather were as frayed as her home-bleached fringe. “He wasn’t where you said he would be. So now we have to be more careful.”
The attendant turned to me and I told him I needed size 11.
“I never said he would be in his office at the weekend.” I picked up my shoes. “It was your idea to go on a Sunday.”
She blew her wispy hair out of her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Where did you think he would be?”
“Well I didn’t think he would be a church-going fella.” She pulled her shoes over her heels and grunted. The assistant asked us to move out of the line.
“You got what you came for. I ain’t sticking around in this racket any longer.” She grabbed my hand. Her fingernails were mustard with black edges. “It was nice doing business with you.”
She checked the coin return slot of the arcade machine and walked out through the sliding doors. I’ll never forget that walk. That carefree stride with a backing of Everybody Hurts.
How anybody could walk in those shoes is beyond me. I went to the men’s room and danced between the sticky puddles and boot-print hot dogs. Inside the envelope was a mobile phone. It was locked with a four digit code so I tapped it in. The screen lit up the cubical showing thirteen missed calls and a voicemail. Bingo.
Julian, my darling. My wife’s seduction. Once reserved for me. I miss your strong hands. When you’re not too busy to answer my calls I want you to take me away. She laughed. Take me back to the lake and the soft blankets from the cupboard under the stairs. I’ll tell Joel I’m going away with the girls. Call me.
I put the phone in my pocket and walked back to the alleys of happy families and birthday parties. I’ll never know if it was the old popcorn smell or the Shiny Happy People soundtrack, all I know is I turned to the door to see her standing in the car park with a trail of smoke between her mustard and blacks.
It might take me a while, and perhaps I’ll never get used to them, but as I walked out of the door in those ankle cutting rentals I felt young again.
“Fancy a game?”
“With you? You gotta be kidding sweetheart.” The smoke drifted out of her mouth as she spoke.
“A drink, then.”
“You buying?”
“I’m buying.”
She flicked the cigarette onto the kerb and her shoes creaked as she tiptoed out the embers.
“C’mon then.”