Sunday Scribblings (Intense): Outta Time 2

Please see Outta Time for the first part of the story.

He hadn’t run so far, so fast in such a short time since he had been on the cross country team in high school. His lungs ached from the crisp, autumn air. A couple blocks away from Ella’s apartment, he slowed to a fast walk; his right hand held the fungo so tight his knuckles turned from white to pale blue. He couldn’t help but glance behind him at times to see if he’d been followed, not that he had any idea who he’d be looking for. He figured a van with no windows or guys in black suits, which just proved that he had seen too many formulaic movies.

Ella’s apartment was a newer high rise with multiple amenities including laundry on every third floor, a gym on the twelfth floor, and an elevator. She lived on the 19th floor, apartment ‘L’. He searched the list outside the locked front door and found E. Montgomery written in the familiarly flowing script. He took a deep breath and pressed the button, unsure how he’d get back up to her apartment for the first time in over a year.

‘Hello?’ came the edgy voice.

He wondered what to say, how to answer. He had been so involved with escaping that he hadn’t considered how to approach her.

‘Hi, Ella,’ he responded.

There was no mistaking his voice.

‘Darren? Is that you?’

‘Yeah,’ he answered almost apologetically, ‘can I come up? It’s kind of an emergency.’

There was no answer, but he knew she was still on the line. He waited.

‘Darren, no. I can’t. It’s too soon. It hurts too much.’

He tried to think quickly; he hoped the adrenaline could have some benefit. ‘Ella, I know what I did. And I’m sorry. I’m being totally honest when I say that this is an emergency, and I need your help.’

She paused again. ‘What’s the emergency?’

‘Ella, please let me in and I can explain everything I know, which isn’t much. Please, please, please let me in.’

Another pause. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just too soon.’ Then came the click.

‘Son of a bitch,’ he yelled at the intercom just as a middle-aged woman entered. She eyed Darren suspiciously and moved to the door with her key. He motioned as if he were going to follow, but the woman made certain to close the door behind her. Not good. He waited for someone – anyone – to enter or exit. And he thought that during the middle of the day in a major city, he wouldn’t have to wait long.

After 30 minutes, he walked outside with fungo in tow. He had made the decision to try his friend Keith. He started walking down the fairly quiet block, when he saw a black teenager coming toward him. Darren tried to avoid him but noticed the kid was staring at him intently. Darren made eye contact. There was no going back.

‘What do you want?’ Darren asked as they halted a few feet from each other.

‘We gotta talk. You comin wit me.’

‘Look, kid, I don’t want any trouble.’ He showed the bat menacingly.

The kid pulled a small pistol. ‘I said we gotta talk, sir. I been told I can shoot you so you don’t die, which I’ll do. So, c’mon.’

The black kid walked Darren back into the same apartment building and pushed a button. No answer. He pushed another. And another. And another. After pressing six different buttons – none of them Ella’s – he had reached one old man who said, ‘Go the hell away.’ Undeterred by the rejection, the young kid kept pressing buttons. Finally, after about fifteen tries, there came a buzz. He grabbed the door with his left hand and pointed the gun at Darren with his right.

‘Get in the building.’

Darren did as he was told. The black kid let the door close behind him. He bowed, replaced the gun in what Darren saw was a holster, and took off running.

Darren wiped the sweat from his forehead. He had no idea what to think. What he did know was that he was in the building and needed to see Ella. The elevator took him to the 19th floor, and he knocked on apartment ‘L’. When he heard no response, he rang the doorbell.

‘Who the hell is it?’ came a male voice from behind the door.

Darren didn’t answer. He stepped away from the peephole.

The door opened. A man with a linebacker build and dark complexion stood in the doorway. He wore pajama pants, slippers, and no top.

‘Hi, I’m looking for Ella,’ Darren said politely.

‘She’s not here,’ he answered not at all helpfully.

‘I think she is,’ Darren replied. ‘I just called up and spoke to her.’

‘Oh, so you’re the asshole that dumped her,’ his voice increased a few decibels. By the look of his red cheeks, it looked as though he was drinking.

Darren backed away instinctively.

‘And what were you thinking of doing with that bat, huh? Looks like you’re looking for some trouble.’

‘Uh, no, I’m just… I need… can I talk to Ella?’

‘Sorry, dude. Time for you to go.’ The linebacker stepped toward Darren and threw a sloppy punch.

Darren stepped aside and swung the bat wildly; it connected with the linebacker’s backside. The linebacker howled. And Ella came out of the apartment to see her ex and current boyfriends awkwardly confronting each other.

‘Stop,’ she yelled. ‘Get in here.’

The two stopped and looked to the diminutive figure. They obeyed immediately and entered the front hallway. Ella banished the linebacker, whose name was Bruce, to the bedroom; she kept Darren in the front hall.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked exasperatedly.

‘I just need to stay the night. My apartment was…’ He hadn’t considered what to say; he didn’t think the truth a good idea until he knew more. ‘My apartment was robbed. And I needed a place to go. Yours came to mind first. I just need to stay the night.’

She hesitated, wanting to ask about his other friends. But she still had hope, however small, that it could still work between them.

‘Please?’ he begged.

‘Okay, just for the night.’