My text message says, “I’m at the cross street,” as always. He immediately responds, “Come on up buddy.” This time, I don’t have to wait for the last guy to leave. I get to the door, but I don’t buzz. Buzzing attracts attention, and we don’t want that. I wait in front of the camera, until the door opens, and I’m let in.
Up the stairs—just one floor. The girl is the same one I had in mind. Ash called her Parisa. She said Roxana. No matter; I could call her Soghra, which means “the small one.” Yes, she’s relatively young and physically small too. But often, I look at a woman, I look close enough, and I see childhood. Why are children so precious? Why does youth hold such universal appeal?
I sit on the sofa for a second. “Would you like some tea? Water?” She brings me a cup of water. I don’t know why her kindness, or this semblance of it, touches me so. Why am I so thirsty?
Then she says “Let me know when you like to go.”
When we come back, I see Ash busy with his phone as always. The phone he’s using is one of three that are scattered around him on the sofa. And when the girl asks, “Have you seen my phone?” he responds, “It must be back in the room,” which means the other two phones must also be his. And that’s no surprise, because Ash’s art is in his ability to connect: he adeptly makes up for where the rest of us fall short.
Transaction complete. But I sit on the corner of the sofa for a breath or two. I don’t actually need a breath, but really, I want to sit here and watch cartoons with them. The TV is showing an animated movie—there’s a cave, a boy in rags holding a stick, and a fluffy green monster sitting by a fire. They seem to be friends, taking refuge here, warming themselves up by the fire, until they go to sleep. The unlikeliest of companions.
Eventually, I stand up and put my jacket on. And I leave, but as soon as I step onto the sidewalk, I start wondering if I could have stayed longer. It feels like I ran away too soon -like something scared me that wasn’t really there.
All the same, with my hands in my pockets, and the brisk autumn breeze on my face, I walk towards the car. And I smile -because in my head, a bombastic voice declares, “Oh monster, thank you -for I too feel a touch warmer now!”