The next day came and went like a flash of lightning. The Simmonses got up early and prepared themselves to go to church.
Mr. and Mrs. Simmons went because they wanted to, while their children went for the sake of it. But ever since things started looking up for Roxanne and Arnold, with Roxanne becoming secretary and Arnold getting a beautiful girlfriend, their morale to worship God was rekindled.
After church, they returned home to spend the afternoon together as a family. Mr. and Mrs. Simmons were watching a movie, Roxanne was listening to music in her room, while Arnold was scrolling through his contacts list on his phone. Trish’s number popped up. He smiled, then called her. It would be nice to hear her voice again, he thought.
“Hi, who’s this?” Asked her familiar voice through the phone.
“Hi, Trish. It’s me, Roxanne’s brother,” Arnold replied. He could hear faint laughter in the background.
“How’s Roxanne? What is she doing?” Trish asked.
“She’s alright, just listening to some music in her room,” Arnold replied.
“Did she tell you guys when she’s starting work as secretary?” Trish pried.
“Nope, why?” Arnold wondered.
“Just asking. I wanted to congratulate her,” she lied. Arnold nodded.
“I have to go, Arnold. Let this conversation be between us, okay? I wouldn’t want your sister thinking I’m spying on her,” Trish requested.
“Sure, sure. Where are you?” Arnold asked her quickly before she hung up.
“I’m at a friend’s place,” Trish replied impatiently.
“One last question: When you said I’m cute, did you mean it?” Arnold persisted.
“Why definitely!” Trish replied enthusiastically. Did he think that she had a crush on him? She thought to herself, then shook her head. She understood adolescent boys and if it meant complimenting him more for him to feed her some information on her sworn enemy, she reasoned, then so be it. But she wouldn’t degrade herself to the level of getting intimate with him.
“Bye now, cutie,” she said, in her sweetest tone. Arnold smiled and shuddered excitedly.
“Talk to you later, babe,” he returned, then Trish hung up.
Jack Al woke up early and found Carla sleeping soundly beside him with a smile on her face. She had woken up long before him but was pretending to be asleep. As he rose and went to the shower, she saw him through squinted eyes. He tried hard not to wake her, and even when showering, he did it slowly so as not to make noise for her.
After the shower, he wiped himself using her towel, dressed up in the previous day’s attire, then woke her up to prepare him something to eat. She woke up, and after feigning a yawn and stretching, went into the kitchen.
“Aren’t you going to shower and dress first?” Jack Al asked her as he watched her go in the nude.
“Why? I’m not before a crowd of people and besides, I feel more free this way,” she replied drowsily. Jack Al shook his head, then went into the living room and waited for breakfast.
“Hurry up, Carla. I have this day planned out,” he called out to her. She increased her pace and within no time, came rushing into the room in an apron and with a tray of French toast and coffee, and set it before him.
He didn’t even wait to be welcomed to start eating. He was too hungry for that. Carla was used to his gluttonous eating habits, so she sat beside him and watched him as he ate. The food was quickly finished. He got up and started for the door.
“Jack,” Carla called from behind him, then stood up and went to him. He turned to her slowly. She engulfed him in a spontaneous embrace and kiss. “Thanks for last night. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me,” she said afterwards with a loving smile while looking into his eyes. He looked into hers briefly, not knowing how to react, then looked away.
“Let’s forget it ever happened,” Jack Al grumbled.
“I won’t,” Carla cooed, then rested her head on his shoulder. Jack Al was helpless. He stood there clueless of what to do next. Finally, he regained control.
“Goodbye Carla, I have to leave,” he whispered.
She hugged him again, with tears in the corners of her eyes, then strained a “Goodbye, Jack,” before releasing him. He turned sharply and left. He was poor in expressing his emotions and feelings. Carla lingered on the door frame and watched him leave until he was out of sight. Then, she got in heavily and shut and locked her door.
Jack Al went straight to his place and began packing some necessities he would need while away from home. When he was through, he got out of his apartment and locked it, placed his bag over his right shoulder and clutched it with his hand, then marched out confidently into the open outdoors. There was a faint scent of alcohol in the air, and police sirens could be heard from afar.
That was the life, he thought as he walked, of the West Side, that he was used to. One for all and all for one. Death was as common as the flu, so much so that if someone died, they would be bidden farewell with just a nod. Anyone who cared would bury the corpse. He went to the train station, bought a ticket, and got into a train that headed to the East Side.
His journey was long and tiring but after eight gruesome hours of being glued to a seat listening to music, he arrived. As his fellow passengers were alighting, he looked out of his window to the sight of a clean place with beautiful people who were smartly dressed, finding their way across the busy roads whose traffic moved at a slow pace, then sighed. Now he would have to hustle to get a place to stay throughout his mission.
“Beanstalk?” Said a soft, feminine voice from his side, that snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to the speaker. There was only one person, he thought, who referred to him using that name.
The speaker was a beautiful, statuesque woman with a bandanna wrapped around her forehead. She also had long, flowing white hair that flowed through the bandanna to her back. She had no makeup on, had a golden cross-shaped earring on her left ear, and was wearing a dark sweater with a blouse inside plus dark, flowing pants and peep toes. She smiled as she saw Jack Al’s reaction to her. He stood to see if it were really who he hoped it was.
“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten me,” the speaker said, still smiling, as they alighted from the train.
“Lilly? Lilly Anne Smart?” Jack Al asked, with wide open eyes.
“There we go,” Lilly replied, then they hugged briefly and made their way across the busy streets. “I see you’re still as handsome as ever,” Lilly observed.
“And you still rock your hair from elementary school?” Jack Al also observed, as he looked at her hair.
“It defines me. So how have you been since high school? How are you holding up? Where do you stay?” She asked in one breath. He gave her a look.
“Still the same talkative Lilly,” he said. She blushed and momentarily looked at her feet, then at him again. They had been friends since childhood and went to the same school from elementary school to high school, when they completed it and parted ways, each pursuing their dream.
“I’ve been coping, and how I’ve been holding up, I can’t complain. I stay in the West Side of this city,” Jack Al replied after a brief silence.
“The West Side? Isn’t that place dangerous?” Lilly asked as they walked to a concrete city bench and sat on it.
“I’m used to it. But enough about me. Tell me about you, how you’ve been and where you stay,” he replied. Lilly sighed then looked into the distance.
“There’s nothing much. I completed high school, joined college, and pursued a degree in Fashion Design. I stay here in the East Side in a duplex that my parents insisted I have,” she said.
“So you’re a model?” Jack Al asked, then arranged his hair back in place after the warm, evening breeze disarrayed it. Lilly nodded.
“But that’s no big deal. What do you do for a living? Or do you still fantasize about finding the mythical beanstalk and climbing it?” She asked, then laughed.
She had given him the nickname ‘Beanstalk’ when they were in middle school because his favorite story back then was ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’ At first he hated it, but with time got used to it.