A Bit of Fiction

William
By James McAllen

It was unbearably hot that day. It had been hot all that week, with each day breaking hotter than the one before, and the nights providing little, if any relief. The humidity was off the charts, which wouldn’t have been unusual for August, but it was mid-May, and a week of humid days was all that was needed to raise the ire of already irritated New Yorkers. William didn’t seem to mind. He always took the weather in stride.
Nothing you can do about it, so no sense complaining, was a common saying that his grandfather taught him, and something that he often repeated.

He was riding the southbound “Q” train from 14th Street towards Coney Island. The train was just as hot and steamy inside as it was outside; the antiquated A/C doing nothing to cool off the train car. He left work early that day, and he was hoping to make it home to watch the Yankees play the Dodgers in his newly finished man-cave in the basement of his home in Sheepshead Bay, but as he stood in the middle of the subway car, he got a burst of inspiration and decided to try a novel experiment.

William, who was just shy of his 50th birthday, was dressed in a light gray suit, with a black polo shirt underneath his jacket. It was his usual work outfit ever since companies relaxed their dress codes. He despised the way people took full advantage of the dress codes, showing up in ripped jeans and sneakers. He thought that the jacket and a simple shirt was a nice compromise for someone still working his way up the corporate ladder. He kept his hair on the long side, hoping that it would cover up some of the thin spots on his scalp, but it didn’t.

He turned towards the back of the car, where six women were seated near each other, three on each side of the car. The all looked exasperated by the heat of the day and the interminable ride.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I’m sorry to disturb you on your ride home. I am not looking for a handout, and I don’t need any food or a place to sleep. In fact, I’m doing quite well.” He took a moment before continuing, showing off the suit he was wearing to all that were watching. He saw that he had gotten the attention of at least some of the people in the car, including a few of the women.

“I’m recently divorced, and I haven’t been on a proper date in twenty years, and I have no idea how to meet women in the 21st century. So, if anyone is single and would like to meet a well-to-do man for coffee, I’d love to give you my number.”

William smiled as he looked up and down the car. He fixed his gaze on two women in their early 40’s. Both of them smiled, and then laughed before shaking their heads. One of the women raised her hand to show him the huge diamond engagement ring adorning her left hand. William winked at her and then turned his attention to the other end of the car. A tall, skinny woman who appeared to be in her 70’s, demurely raised her hand.
“I’ll take that number.” She laughed when she said it, and William walked right over to her. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his business card and slipped it into her hand, bending down as he did in order to meet her eye to eye.
“I’m William.”
“I’m Daisy.” She replied.
“Very nice to meet you, Daisy. I’d love to get coffee some time.”
“As would I.” As he stood back up, William heard a voice behind him. It was syrupy, but deep and obviously affected.

“I’ll take your number, sweetie.” William turned to see a young, light-skinned black man with fake eyelashes and lavender painted toes looking at him. He wore a black lace top and barely-there shorts.
William laughed at the prospect.
“Sorry, not what I had in mind. Thanks though.”
“Don’t knock it til you tried it, hon.” His voice raised in pitch as he spoke.
“Who says I haven’t?” They both laughed at William’s response, but he still didn’t give him a card. Instead, he turned his attention to the young girl sitting a few seats down from Daisy. She had been watching the entire scene, but she never once cracked a smile.
“What about you?” William nodded towards the girl. She was dark-haired and dark complected with bushy eyebrows and more than a hint of a mustache on her upper lip. William guessed that she was no more than twenty-five. Her hair was frizzed and curly from the humidity and sweat glistened on her neck.
“Aren’t you a little bit old for me?” She asked with a smirk.
“I don’t know. How old is your boyfriend?”
The smirk disappeared. “I don’t have one at the moment.”
“See? You’ve been aiming too low.”

The large black woman sitting next to the girl rolled her eyes at the exchange and then got up to exit the train. William wasted no time taking her vacated seat.
“We don’t have to get married right away. We can wait a few weeks.” He was smiling when he said it, and for the first time, she smiled back. It was genuine.
“I’m William. My friends call me William. You can call me William.” He held out his hand instead of his card. She hesitated for a moment before taking his hand.
“Lisa.” She replied.
“Hi Lisa. Nice to meet you. Where are you headed? Wait. Don’t answer that. Never tell a stranger on the train anything personal.”
She looked at him queerly.
“So, where do you live, what’s your mother’s maiden name, and what are the last four digits of your social?”

She laughed this time, snorting as she did. William smiled and looked up to see Daisy giving him a smile and a thumbs up as she exited the train at Atlantic Ave in Brooklyn. He winked back, and then turned his attention back to Lisa.
“Seriously. I don’t expect you to take me up on my offer, but we can just talk for a while, right? It’s better than staring at our phones for forty minutes.” William waved his hand to show her that almost everyone else on the train was staring at their phones, except for the four people who were watching William in action.
“Is this how you usually meet women?” She asked.
“Noooo! I just thought of this. I wasn’t lying. I have no idea how people meet. I’ve been with the same woman for twenty-three years.”
“What happened?”
William dropped his head slightly, then sighed. “I spent too much time at the office, and she spent too much time at the gym.” He paused for a moment. “She met someone younger.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Me too. I think. I’m not sure. We haven’t been close in while, and…” his voice drifted off. He waited a second before continuing. “So, what about you? A young attractive girl, no boyfriend?”

She rolled her eyes.
“Don’t say it.”
“It’s true.”
“All the best guys are married or gay. That tired line?”
“It’s true. I swear.”
“Nonsense. There are plenty of men out there. You’re probably just too picky.”
“I’m not. I’m not picky at all.”
“Great. Then I’ll pick you up Friday night.” William winked as he said it.
Lisa laughed and snorted again.
“Look, I live in Sheepshead Bay, but I’m gonna take this to Coney and walk up to Ruby’s, and have a beer and a burger. You wanna join me?”
She hesitated for a moment, and William thought he had her.
“I… I can’t. I’d like to, but I have plans.”
“Real plans? Or, I can’t say yes to the weird guy on the train plans?”
She forced a smile. “Weird Guy.”
“Well, at least you told the truth. I understand. It is kinda weird, but I took a shot.”
“Let me ask you something.”
“Shoot.” He replied.
“If that woman calls, will you go out with her?”
“Sure. Why not? She’s probably seen the world.”
“And if those other women had said yes?”
“Absolutely.”
“So why would you want to date a girl my age?”
“Why not? Who knows where it could lead. I don’t mean romantically,
but you might be a brilliant violin player and I might be on the board
at the Met.”
“Are you on the board at the Met?”
“No. Are you a brilliant violin player?”
“No.”
“Ok, maybe you’ll introduce me to your mother’s sister who got divorced and never remarried”
“My mother died when I was young.”
“Or maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut.” He tried to smile through the awkwardness.
“It’s ok.”
“Where are you getting off?”
“Coney Island.”
William laughed. “See, it’s fate. Come have a corn dog with me.”
Lisa hesitated for a moment before responding. “Ok.”

They got off at the Stillwell Avenue station, and as they made the two-block walk to the boardwalk, William regaled her of stories about what Coney Island was like when he was growing up in the 70’s. Lisa, in turn, told him some more details about her life. She was indeed twenty-five. Her full name was Lisa Angela Ambrosio. She grew up in Bensonhurst in a strict Italian household, and she recently moved to the newly built condos on Surf Avenue.

They stopped at Ruby’s Bar and Grill on the boardwalk and took a table under one of the large red umbrellas. Being that it was Wednesday, the restaurant wasn’t crowded, save for a few young men standing at the bar discussing baseball. Likewise, the boardwalk was fairly empty as well, except for a few bike riders and the occasional skateboarder. They sat facing the water, watching the sun as it slowly descended to the west, past Seagate, past the city, as it made its way towards California. William spent the next hour doing everything he could to charm the young lady and put her at ease. It worked. Once the food arrived, Lisa began to open up, and she started sharing details about her life that no one, least of all a young woman, should be sharing with a stranger, but share she did, and William took it all in, marveling at the way her green eyes shone against her Mediterranean skin. William thought she looked more Greek than Italian, but he kept his observations to himself, lest he might offend her. She told him how she was the middle child of five, the only girl surrounded by four boys, all within six years of each other. She told him that in some ways, she felt like an only child, and that after her mother died of breast cancer when Lisa was just sixteen, all she wanted was to get away from her brothers and the macho world in which she grew up. She told him that she loved living alone on the beach, despite some of the seedier aspects of the neighborhood. Lisa’s building sat across Surf Avenue from one of the many housing project buildings that were built in the early 70’s. At one time, they were akin to the wild west in terms of drugs and crime and lawlessness, but even though the neighborhood had improved greatly over the past two decades, the reputation still lingered.

William, for his part, kept the details about his life vague and incomplete. He told her that he had one brother, with whom he was now living with, and that he had two children, both boys, who were off at college, one in Arizona, and the other in Oregon. Most of the details were untrue. He was making it up as he went along, hoping that he’d be able to remember the specifics if he ever met Lisa again, a prospect that he didn’t find likely. And yet, they both seemed to be enjoying themselves, so for the moment, they stayed. By the time that eight o’clock rolled around, the sun had just about disappeared, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. The first uncomfortable silence of the evening hung over the table as they waited for the young waiter to come back with the check.

“Hey. Listen. I’ve got to get home. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” They both knew that she was lying, but it was an easy out.
“You good from here? You want me to walk you?”
“I’m fine. It’s less than a mile. I can work off that burger.” She forced a laugh. For the first time, she felt nervous.
“Well then, I will bid you adieu.” He offered his hand, which she took. “I had a lovely evening Lisa Ambrosio, and if you would ever like to have another chat, just give me a call.” He slipped her his business card, which she looked at for a moment, saw the name William DeShayes, and then smiled, before slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans. William made sure to look her directly in the eyes, without blinking, just to make her nervous. It did. She broke away first.
“Goodnight.” She said.
“And a lovely evening to you.”

She turned away quickly and made her way west, down the boardwalk. William watched her for a minute, hoping that she would turn back around, but she never did. He paid the bill, finished his beer, and then ordered an Uber for his trip back to Marine Park.

He made it home in under fifteen minutes, but as usual, Annette was angry. He told her that he would be home by 7:30, and when he was late, he ignored her texts and calls, using the same tired story about being stuck on the train, and not getting the messages until he got out of the tunnel. She didn’t believe him, but she didn’t care either. As she grabbed her bag from the closet, she announced, “Your dinner is in the oven. The boys are over at Bobby’s house. Enjoy your night”. Then she slammed the door for emphasis, leaving him in silence. He smiled at the prospect of being home alone, and after kicking off his shoes, he dropped his tired body onto the couch and reached for the remote.

She still wasn’t home at 11pm when he made the trek upstairs. He was concerned, but not worried. He thought about calling her, or sending a text to make sure she was ok, but his anger and frustration got the best of him, so he decided against it. Instead, he went to the laptop in his office and googled “Lisa Ambrosio”. There were far too many results, so he added “coney island” to the search and within minutes, he had her name, address, former address, and several pictures.

Meanwhile, she was doing the same thing and coming up with almost nothing; nothing more than she already knew: his name and the fact that he worked for First Crescent Capital — information on his business card. Lisa found herself frustrated at the dead end. What she didn’t know, was that William DeShayes, was a master at covering his tracks and hiding his footprint on the internet. He didn’t have social media accounts, at least not under his real name, and he was able to scrub his personal data from any of the various search sites that sold private information. William went to bed satisfied with the outcome of his day, while Lisa was all the more curious about the mysterious William DeShayes.