Lovely Ladies

Andy rubbed his wrists where the cuffs had been until his parole officer removed them. They stood on the front step of a tall building by the harbor.

Above the front door, a flickering red neon read; ‘Lovely Ladies.’ The only drop of color in this grey architectural nightmare.

Of course, for any other kind of business, it was illegal to advertise in such a way.

The officer paused before entering. “One hour, starting now. Got it?”

Andy nodded. He looked around the dark empty streets before following inside. His parole officer took a seat in the waiting area. The only two other people in the lobby were obviously with him, since no real citizen would ever read those propaganda newspapers.

‘Artist caught with multiple statues made from homemade clay,’ read one of the headlines.

“Name?” Squeaked the boyish man behind the lobby desk.

“Ernie, it’s me,” Andy said.

Ernie corrected his thin grey tie. “It’s protocol. To protect the ladies. You know how it is.”

Andy walked past the waiting area and stopped in front of the elevator. He scowled back at Ernie. The doors wouldn’t open until he put his finger on the scanner on his desk.

Ernie smiled patiently.

“Andrew Bistro,’ Andy said, finally.

His pleased smile grew more obnoxious, “And who are you here to see?”

He sighed. “Two seventeen.”

The elevator groaned and the doors went up.

On the screen in the elevator, Andy selected 217 and paid with his fingerprint. Only one hour, and he still hadn’t found a way to tell her that today would be his last visit. There were a lot of things he hadn’t told her.

The elevator opened, and Andy stepped out on the 21st floor. He passed through the narrow hallway towards room 7. Even though the rooms were soundproof, he felt like he could hear what was going on the other side of every door.

The door to room seven went up, before Andy had a chance to knock, and there she was.

Her phony seductive smirk vanished and was replaced by a glowing smile.

“Andy! Come in!”

Andy shushed her, as she pulled him inside by his hand. It was against the rules to know each other’s names.

She kicked the door closed behind her and sat him down beside her on the bed.

“Giselle,” Andy said, once privacy was assured. “I’ve missed you so much.”

She giggled. “It’s been three days.”

“It felt like forever.”

It had started with her name, but now he knew her for the person she really was. The person behind Two-seventeen. Ironically, it had been privacy of this building, which had allowed that kind of relationship to form. Too many government officials spend their time here, which meant it was easier to just get rid of the surveillance entirely. Whatever went on behind these doors wasn’t Creative anyway. Creativity was the enemy.

She moved closer and put her hand on Andy's. “I missed you too.” She blushed.

“I can only stay for an hour today,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

She sighed. “Is that what has you in this mood?” she almost sounded relived. Apparently, he wasn’t as discreet as he thought. “I can help you out. I can lend you some more money.”

“That’s not it...” He couldn’t tell her the bad news. She would figure out what happened, when he stopped visiting. Hopefully she would have the sense to burn everything that could link her to his crimes.

“Hey,” she said. “Let’s not waste our time” she nodded toward the floorboard, Andy had been staring at.

He gave her his most reassuring smile as he got up and kneeled by the loose board. He jammed his thumb into the knot hole and pulled the board free. In the little pocket under the floor was all the things he had collected throughout the years.

It was Andy’s job to confiscate and destroy these things, but of course, there was value in any banned item. A pencil could buy him sixteen hours with Giselle. A Book could buy him a hundred. Anything that could be considered creative was confiscated and destroyed.

He dug through books and cassette tapes and found the sketchpad and little pencil case. Keeping these, rather than selling them on the black market, was the best decision he had ever made. He was glad Giselle had convinced him to keep it.

He replaced the floorboard and gave it a tap with his heel to push it in flush with the rest of the floor. Then he crawled up next to Giselle on the bed with their backs against the wall, the sketchpad in his lap.

She had taught him anatomy and perspective. Today they were working on shading. He opened the sketchpad on the latest page and looked at the portrait he drew three days ago. It didn’t look as good today. It was hard, capturing Giselle’s beauty on paper.

“You’re getting really good at drawing,” she said.

“It’s nothing impressive.”

“You have talent. I think you could become better than me with only a few more weeks of practicing.”

A few more weeks, Andy thought. “Something is still off. I don’t know what it is.”

She smirked. “Maybe it’s because you never actually seen me in a sundress.”

The sundress she was wearing in the portrait, was drawn from memory, from what he had seen at work.

“Maybe,” he said, distracted. He looked down at his drawing. His last day of work occupied his mind. He had always been so careful when sneaking items. He had gotten away with a very noticeable cassette player and this very sketchbook, but a small pencil was what got him caught. That cornflower blue pencil had spoken to him. Something within Andy had screamed, that he must have it. He just couldn’t let it get cremated.

It was only now, when he looked into Giselle’s beautiful cornflower blue eyes, he realized why he had wanted that pencil so much. It had not only cost him every future visit with her, but also most likely his life.

“Okay, you need to tell me what’s wrong,” Giselle said.

She deserved to know. Now was his chance to tell her.

“It’s nothing,” he said. He added some random shading to the drawing the way she had taught him. Sometimes he wondered where she had learned all of that. Drawing, reading, dancing, singing. Something told him he didn’t want to know the answer. It probably had something to do with her job.

“If it’s nothing, then telling me, shouldn’t be a problem.”

“It’s just some problems at work. You know I can’t talk about that.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before. You acted like this last time too. Something is wrong.”

Andy sighed, putting down the pencil. She deserves to know. He couldn’t meet her eyes. “You won’t be able to deny knowledge about it, if I tell you too much.”

“Stop it,” she said, pushing her shoulder against his. She forced him to look into her eyes. “What exactly are you saying?”

He held up the sketchpad. “Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you, if they find out you’re hiding all of these things?”

“What do you mean? Of course I do. What about yourself?”

“I work for the government. I could get away with a slap on the wrist.”

She frowned, gently caressing him. “Andy, please don’t lie to me.”

Andy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn’t as much a lie as it was dumb hope. He was the one between the two of them who deserved the punishment. He was the one who took that job. He was the one who fell for their propaganda. He had believed them, when they told him creativity was the root of all evil. Every action he had taken as law enforcement was part of why creative people like Giselle were on the verge of extinction.

In a way, the government was right. Ever since Giselle had led him to the discovery of art, Andy had never been more unhappy. Also happy at the same time, it was a weird, wonderful thing.

He opened his eyes again. Half the reason he closed them was to keep himself from crying, while readying himself to tell her the truth. But when he looked at her. Her perfect blue eyes, and the tears trickling from them, his own came.

Giselle sniffled. “So, it has really happened?”

Andy nodded. It didn’t need to be said. They had both known that this would happen someday.

“But how?” She cried “When did it—How are you even here right now?”

“I made a deal with my former colleges. I promised to talk if they would let me come here a few times before my trial.” Of course, they only thought he was there for the usual reason.

“You can’t do that. Please Andy,” she said, wiping her tears.

“I already have, Giselle. I told them as much as I could, without mentioning you, or the things we have stashed here. I told them I burned the books I took, after reading them. They had all the evidence they needed, so I doubt it made much difference.”

She sniffled, tucking in closer to him. She put her head on his chest and sighed deeply. None of them spoke. They just lay there in each other’s presence. That was all Andy wanted right now.

The silence was broken by a buzzer from the console by the door. That meant they only had ten minutes left, the little screen on the panel confirmed that, but the time didn’t feel wasted.

Giselle sat up and looked at him with a fragile smile. She handed him the sketchpad. “If you put this back, I know what we could do with our remaining time.”

“Now?” He asked.

“I don’t know when I’m gonna see you again.” The idea of ever seeing him again was too hopeful, but he let her have it.

Andy met her eyes but could only manage half a smile. “But I’m so bad at it. Do you really want that to be the last thing we do together?”

She giggled and stood up. “Come on,” she said.

So Andy went back to the loose floorboard and got a few things out to get to the thing at the bottom. The cassette player and the accompanying brittle yellow headphones.

He took Giselle’s hand and walked her out on the little space of open floor. Her smile widened. Standing there, closely in front of each other, he placed the headphones around Giselle’s neck and turned the volume dial to max. He put the cassette player in his own pocket, so the cord forced them close together.

He put his hands on her waist. She followed suit and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Andy pressed start. Giselle started swaying before the music began. As soon as it did, he followed her movement.

“Small steps,” she said. “Look at my feet and do as I do.” She was so good at dancing that it felt hopeless to even try, but it didn’t matter. The music picked up speed, and Andy followed her steps. Suddenly it wasn’t so hard.

They danced in perfect harmony, swaying as much as the headphone cord allowed. The world, and all its worries, vanished into a cloud of rhythm and balance. It felt like every problem in the world, could be cured with music, dancing, and expression of self.

Giselle closed her eyes, smiling peacefully. Even with her eyes closed, she didn’t miss a step.

He swung her around and pulled her close. They slowed down in unison, and the dancing became swaying. Andy felt Giselle’s heart pounding against his chest as he held her close, staring into each other’s eyes.

The moment shattered, when the panel next to the door gave another loud buzz. Giselle flinched and writhed free of Andy's arms. She tried to take a step back, but the cord kept her close.

“What’s going on?” She said. “It hasn’t been ten minutes yet.”

Andy looked to the panel. The screen had stopped counting down, at five minutes. That had never happened before. Giselle looked just as confused as he felt.

Then came five short buzzes in a rhythm.

Giselle yanked the headphones off and threw them at Andy. “That means they’re coming in here!”

“Who!?” Andy said, turning down the music and quickly wrapping the cord around the player.

“Ernie. That buzzing was the code for when he uses the master key.”

Andy hurried over to the bed and threw the cassette player under the blanket, ruffling the bed up, as if it had been used, the next second, the door went up. Andy quickly pretended to be buttoning up his jumpsuit.

“Times up, Mr. Bishop,” Ernie squeaked.

“It’s Bistro,” Andy said.

“Whatever. Your probation officer is waiting, if you’re not down with me in one minute, he’s coming up here to grab you himself.”

“Why,” Giselle said. “He still has five minutes left.”

Ernie walked closer to Andy. “Your probation officer told me everything about you, you filthy creativist.” He nodded towards Giselle. “Does she know? Have you told her that she has been sleeping with a traitor of the law?”

“No, I haven’t,” Andy said quickly, before Giselle could say anything stupid.

“Ernie, relax,” Giselle said.

Andy cringed.

“Relax?” Ernie said, fuming. “You shut your mouth, whore— “

“No, listen,” she said.

“Giselle, don’t,” Andy said.

Ernie stared at him.

It took a moment before Andy realized his mistake.

“Why do you know her name?”

Andy sighed. Not even Ernie was supposed to know the names of the girl. Then things got worse.

“Do you hear that?” Ernie asked, tip toeing closer to the bed.

“Hear what?” Andy asked. “Ernie what are you— “

He shushed him. “What is that sound?”

Andy finally heard it. The music from the headphones hadn’t stopped playing. He could faintly hear it from under the covers.

“It’s my vibrator, okay?” Giselle said.

Ernie stopped right next to the bed.

“Is that all?” She continued. “Then please get out.”

Ernie hesitated. He looked like he was about to believe her and turn around, when his foot accidentally kicked the loose floorboard.

Andy's heart sank. He had forgotten to tap it back in place after he had taken out the cassette player.

“Is that…” Ernie bowed down and picked one of the books out of the floor hole. He stared at it, breathless. “This is a book. This is… You are.” He starred Giselle. “You’re with him in this?”

“Ernie, please,” Giselle pleaded.

Ernie turned and looked at Andy. “You know whatever happens to her, is on you now, right?”

Andy opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say. Ernie was right. He wanted to tell him to leave Giselle out of it, but how could he? She wouldn’t be able to deny that she knew about the illegal items. He wanted to grab Giselle and flee, but the elevator wouldn’t go down without Ernie’s permission. The only other way out was the window, and that was a 21 story jump into the freezing harbor.

Ernie turned on his heel and stomped toward the door with the book still in his hand. “Don’t go anywhere. You two are done.”

Andy just stood, feeling like he was in a trance, when something flew through the air and hit Ernie in the back of the head, so he stumbled forward.

He squealed in pain and turned back to see where the object had come from, when another one hit him in the face.

Ernie’s scream woke Andy from his trance. What had hit Ernie, was books. Giselle had thrown them at him. That’s when Andy realized what he had to do. He ran over to the bed, pulled back the covers, grabbed the headphones and sped over to Ernie who was lying on the floor by the door, clutching his nose.

Andy wrapped the cord from the headphones around his knuckles and then tied it around Ernie’s neck. He grabbed tightly and pulled till the cord dug into the skin of his throat.

Ernie gasped and spat, kicking and punching out in every direction. He tried to roll around to gain control, but Giselle came and helped pinning him to the floor.

Andy pulled till his fingers were numb and the cobber in the wire started to show. As he came to his feet, he gave the cord one last powerful tug, that finally put Ernie to sleep.

Giselle sighed in relief, but it was short lived. Someone was coming up the elevator.

“It’s gotta be my parole officer,” Andy said. Ernie had said that he would come up, if they weren’t down in a minute.

“We gotta get out,” Giselle said. She stood up next to Andy, panting. She was probably, like Andy, pumped with adrenaline.

“How? Where?” He glanced at the window.

“I don’t know,” she said, calming down. “But we will figure it out.” She looked at Andy, and as he stared into those perfect cornflower blue eyes, he did the only logical thing he could think of. He kissed her.

She gasped but didn’t pull back. On the contrary, she embraced him, kissing him back with passion. They only let go when they heard the elevator open, out in the hallway.

Andy didn’t take his eyes away from her, as the steps got closer. He looked her in the eyes, only a few inches from her blushing face. They smiled at each other.

Andy caressed her cheek and memorized her perfection. Then he finally told her, what he should have, a long time ago. “I love you.”