A Love Of People

A Love of People the tragedy of a man

Knox Still

Part I

2

I.

Tace Gunther’s favorite day of the week was Tuesday.

Mr. Gunther had no idea why, however, Tuesday was always his preferred time of the week. ! ! The day was Wednesday. Tace lay in bed, contemplating the day ahead. In silence, he watched the ceiling fan rotating, making lazy circles above him. He checked the alarm clock and made note of the time, four-seventeen in the morning. ! ! Tace Gunther was not an early riser; which is exactly why he could not understand his early waking.. While knowing this, he realized that the only way to keep from being a low-life mess was to get out of bed and go to work. ! ! ! Mr. Gunther worked as a waiter for one of the most expensive restaurants in the city - The Haferman. He worked the

3

evening shift, from 6:00 PM to 9:30 PM, everyday. On Sundays, he worked nearly the whole day, from 11:30 AM to 6:00 He neither loathed nor adored his job. Tace simply thought of it as an occupation, a way to remain financially afloat, nothing more. On the other hand, he did enjoy his late afternoon walk to his job. During this walk, Tace took the time to observe the various people that he encountered on the sidewalks leading to the restaurant. !

Tace Gunther loved people. Most kinds of people. One

type of persona that he did not like, however, was the wealthy people that often flocked to The Haferman. Tace discovered his dislike for them while on the job and had came to the conclusion even based off of the tidbits of conversation overheard when serving the customers. He now thought them to be rude, inconsiderate, cold beings. Surprisingly, Tace managed to quietly do his work to the best of his ability despite the unpleasant feelings he harbored against them. !

Tace sat up, got out of bed, and began busying himself

4

with the tasks involved in the preparation of the day ahead. !

After doing so, Tace ambled in to the main room of his

apartment and turned on the television. For two entire hours, Mr. Gunther subjected himself to viewing the depressive news regarding the ongoing war. Reports of several deadly, international bombings flooded the news. Annoyed at the recurring topic of the high number of casualties resulting from the battles, Tace changed the channel. !

Although he expressed his chagrin a good deal of times

to himself, Tace secretly wished he was one of the victims of the terrible acts overseas. In simpler terms, Tace Gunther sometimes hoped that his life would end. He knew these morose feelings were not kept by the altogether sane, but considered his end nonetheless. !

Tace generally tried to avoid imagining the redemptive

cleansing that would accompany his death. He chastised himself for focusing on the sickly satisfying purge that perhaps only death would provide.

5

!

More times than most, Tace could not help but look to

the future and contemplate his demise.

6

II. The phone began to ring. I tried to ignore it. !

The phone rang a second time. Irritated, I groaned and

trudged over to to the phone and picked it up. !

“Hello?” I said in a falsely peppy tone. I noticed that the

voice on the other end was a man’s. He sounded nervous. !

“Hello. Is this Abby?”!

!

“Yes, this is Abby,”

!

“Abby Sullivan?” he asked.

!

“Mmhmm, Abby Sullivan.”

!

I listened as the caller introduced himself as Tace

Gunther. It was a strange name, but an obscurely familiar one. !

As soon as “Tace” explained where he knew me from, I

recognized his voice. I realized that we both worked at The Haferman. !

After a round of greetings, Tace took the leap.

! 7

!

“Abby, I was wondering if you would like to possibly see

a movie, or something. It’s fine if you don’t want to.” !

“Tomorrow?” I asked skeptically. I was buying time for

me to conjure a response to a near-stranger who had asked me on a date. When I thought about it, it wasn’t so farfetched to consider giving the man a chance. !

“Yes, tomorrow.”

!

Then I took the leap.

!

“That sounds great, Tace! Where would you like to

meet?” I told myself to tone the enthusiasm down a bit. !

I had seen Tace Gunther working, and he seemed to

appear the same age as me, early twenties. But I could tell that he wasn’t experienced with the dating scene; Tace sounded edgy. !

So it was settled. After work on the next night, Tace

Gunther and I would be seeing a movie. Because Tace and I worked the same number of hours each night, and we both stopped work at a somewhat later time, we agreed to leave work

8

a half an hour early. I thought of the possibilities and decided to give it a shot. !

I told myself that nothing could be worse than my

previous relationship.... !

Robert McAvoy was a very complicated man. I had been

“set up” with him by my best friend, Jill. She assured me that he was an intelligent, likable person. At the time that I met him, I agreed with Jill. But we got closer and closer. I realized that he was deceptive and hurtful. Robert apparently got pleasure from the way he treated me. I guess he thought that controlling a woman or even physically pushing her around was acceptable. !

The only way I could manage to sever my connection

with him was to have Jill tell him to leave me alone, I was too afraid to tell him myself. I vowed to myself that I would never again take part in a relationship in which I was frightened by a man to the point where I could not even express my opinion out loud, for fear of being beaten. !

Ever since Robert McAvoy, I was careful.

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III. !

Tace Gunther smiled as he pressed the end button on

his apartment telephone. !

It had been a while since Mr. Gunther had been on a

date. Thus, upon the approval of his request, Tace was somewhat excited. He eagerly anticipated the following day. However, Tace had not thought about how Abby would act towards him now that the date had been sealed. He prayed that it would not be awkward. !

Mr. Gunther spent most of his Wednesday afternoon in

the apartment complex fitness gym. Tace was pleased at the convenience of the amenity and enjoyed the way it consumed his abundant time. !

At nearly five o’ clock, Tace exited the fitness room and

while doing so, greeted several people. Tace resided on floor number twenty-three of The Springland apartment complex. The building could not be classified as extravagant or fancy; the

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layout closely resembled a chain hotel. Mr. Gunther appreciated the abode nonetheless. Its rent was modest, perfectly accommodating a waiter’s salary. !

Tace lightly skipped up the three hundred-and-seven

stairs en route to his floor, a feat that would have been near impossible if Tace was not constantly exercising. It was now the routine time for the donning of his work clothes. !

Tace’s mind was abuzz with thoughts concerning Abby

Sullivan. !

Tace Gunther had first taken notice to Abby when he

had recently moved to the city. Six months earlier, after finding work at his current location, Abby was instructed to show Tace the ropes of performing his job at The Haferman. Apparently, Abby was not mindful that the new employee was staring at her, observing her every graceful step. Abby was a skilled waitress and Mr. Gunther admired her expertise in the area. !

However, Tace was disheartened when, on the next full

day on the job, Abby treated him no differently than any other

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coworker. Only until recently had Tace entertained the idea of getting closer to her. So on that Wednesday, Tace finally mustered his courage and made the phone call to Abby Sullivan. But what Tace didn’t realize was that the call would be indirectly responsible for his unexpected quietus. !

Tace finally reached the twenty-third floor. He bathed

himself and dressed himself in his work attire. Before leaving his apartment, he caught a glimpse of himself in a full length mirror positioned to lean against an open wall in his bedroom. Mr. Gunther stopped, stepped back, and looked at the replica of himself staring back. As he stared, he acquired the feeling that something was missing, a bold emptiness filled his body. Tace straightened his tie, smoothed his shirt. Still, he looked at himself in contempt. Sighing, he glanced at his watch and shuffled out of his apartment hastily. He was almost late for work, and along with that, Abby.

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IV.

I stood at the front door of The Haferman, craning my

neck in an attempt to find Tace. !

Finally, I caught sight of him. He appeared very

attractive, even from a distance. Tace jogged to the entrance of the restaurant. I was shocked at how amazingly handsome Tace was, almost to the point where I couldn’t describe him. I then asked myself- how could I ever forget someone as beautiful as Tace? He had a unique, intriguing aura that glowed around him. Could I really not remember such a face that I had seen daily for half a year? !

Six months ago was the time when I dated Robert. I

shuddered at the thought of his name and all of the hurt he had inflicted upon me. I realized that I must have forced myself to not think about any other man besides Robert at the time of our dating.

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!

I opened the door for Tace and we exchanged awkward

“Heys”. He brushed past me while I had my arm extended, holding the door. Tace’s fragrance wafted towards my nose. I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent that followed him. He thanked me and I followed closely behind him. !

Shortly after Tace’s arrival at the restaurant, the first

steady flow of dinner customers arrived. I discovered that it was almost a little challenging to even work on the easier tasks of preparation for the business night. I did not know how the date would go- whether or not I would embarrass myself. I was usually calm on dates, then again, I had never landed a date with anyone like him. Robert was a slob compared to the elegant Tace Gunther. Tace was a man who carried himself with subtle class, Robert was a boar who took me as an object. !

Finding myself acting preposterous, I wondered why I

was feeling so strongly towards the man. I wasn’t sure that Tace was different than Robert. Had Robert really left me so desperate for comfort? 14

V. !

For the most part, the night at The Haferman carried on

as normal. !

Tace seemed to be trying very hard to not act any

different around Abby. His intentions were to stay quiet around her; he believed that she should come on with him, not viceversa. !

Tace held a wicker basket of fine French bread as he

made his way to a table by the front entrance. Mr. Gunther automatically prepared himself to absorb the snippy conversation going on between the man and the woman seated at the table. !

“Well, dear,” the man said with slight sarcasm, “If the

horse didn’t want to be ridden, then maybe he just didn’t want to be ridden.” !

“Give me a break! Brandenburg always wants to be

ridden! I love him and he loves me. He might even love me more

15

than you do.” The man turned away, pretending to be hurt. The woman was obviously encroaching upon the line between jests and the “not-so-funny” category. She laughed a small, breathy chortle and reached over the table to the man’s hand. !

“I was just kidding. I know you love me.” The woman

attempted to repair the damage she had just invoked. !

From the corner of his eye, Tace perceived the

breathtaking goddess that was Abby Sullivan. Even when viewed from his restricted outlook of vision, Tace could still distinguish every single step of Abby’s graceful movements. He could still see her flowing mahogany hair, balanced on her flawlessly contoured shoulders. Tace could still take in the beauty of her impeccable figure - a sculpture chiseled by Michelangelo himself. Tace, still approaching the table, slightly turned his head only so much so that it appeared natural, to better appreciate the masterpiece. !

Tace refocused his attention on the patron before him.

He almost sneered in disgust when he saw how unattractive the

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customer was, especially in comparison to Abby. Yet, Tace Gunther was ever-so-polite while he waited for the couple to browse the dinner menu, despite the fact that he was irritated by the customers’ naïveté. Tace stood at the table for nearly three minutes as the woman made him describe almost every foreign dish on the menu. Tace guessed that the woman did not feel like reading the explanatory caption that was below every item. Tace did not enjoy catering to the wealthy. He hated tending to their ignorance. Even so, Mr. Gunther was often commended on excellent service. !

Tace received the order and left the table to fetch

another bottle of Sassicaia. As he walked, the mirage of Abby remained in his mind. He envisioned her: her freckled cheeks, her nose located precisely between the most petrifying ice blue eyes. Tace imagined her full lips, pulled back into a smile bejeweled by a set of spotless, pearly white teeth. Mr. Gunther replayed the music of Abby Sullivan’s laughter in his ears- a beautiful tinkling of wind chimes sounding in perfect harmony.

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!

Shaken from his daydream, Tace hurriedly retrieved the

bottle of wine from the kitchen. He knelt in front of the wine rack, searching for the selection. To Tace’s internal delight, Abby started through the swinging doors marking the entrance of the kitchen. Petty, empty conversation ensued the duo. !

“Hey, are you looking for the Burgeot?”

!

Tace looked up, making eye contact with Abby.

!

“No, Sassicaia. I might have used the last bottle.”

!

Abby knelt down to Tace’s level and began her own

search. Tace did not see that every few seconds, Abby would glance at him. Mr. Gunther almost started to ask her if anything abnormal was on his face, but decided not to. He did not want the joke to backfire, causing unease. !

They exchanged words regarding their anticipation of

the coming day- the date. !

“So, I’m excited ‘bout tomorrow.” Abby interjected.

Tace glanced at Abby who quickly shifted her head. !

“The movie, I mean,”

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!

Tace cut in.

!

“Oh, right. Yes, I am looking forward to it, too. I haven’t

been to any good movie in a long time.” !

“Really? Then it will be fun especially. Especially fun,

sorry.” Abby was having trouble gathering complete thoughts around Tace. Tace smiled and nodded. !

“Well, I don’t think the Sassicaia is here. Better just

take the Mouton-Rothschild. They shouldn’t be able to tell the difference.” !

“Thanks.”

!

With a trace of abruption, Mr. Gunther curtailed the

discussion and headed out of the swinging doors. Abby stood alone in the center of the kitchen. Not knowing what to do, Abby simply continued standing, watching the doors open and close several times. Wind created by the fanning doors blew wind through her hair. Every time the doors opened, Abby caught an abbreviated glimpse of a portion of the restaurant. Even something so innocuous as swinging doors acted as an impetus

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for emotion deep inside Abby. Abby compared the shifting doors to her fleeting, uncertain feelings for Tace Gunther. She questioned how she could be so entranced by the thought of being around Tace at such an incredibly premature stage in their relationship. Abby knew it was wrong of her to feel like that, yet she did anyway. !

Tace poured the alcohol into the wine glasses. He

watched to see if Abby was right in her prediction of the similarity of the wines. !

The man took a sip and stopped. He let the taste settle

on his tongue before he turned to Tace. !

“Is this the Sassicaia?” The man appeared frazzled.

!

“No, sir, sorry. We are out of the Sassicaia. But this

wine is just as good, better, in my opinion.” Tace remained tranquil. !

“Well, if this isn’t Sassicaia, then did you not think to

tell me before I drank it?” The man gripped the glass with tight fingers.

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!

Tace began apologizing for his error.

!

“No, sir, sor-”

!

“Dammit,” The man swiped the glass with his hand,

spilling the wine onto the clean white table cloth. “Get this away from me.” The man crossed his arms and lean back in his chair. After a moment, he started to stand. !

“Dave, stop.” The woman laid her hand on his shoulder

in a feeble attempt to contain the man. The man got up, put on his coat, and pulled down his cuffs. !

“My Lord, David! Why are you always like this? I try so

hard to make you happy, I do everything! But it’s just never right is it?” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes. She looked like she realized that she revealed too much. !

Mr. Gunther hated to see anyone feeling sad. He

thought that people, in their best form, should exemplify vivacity. Seeing a sad face was like a stab to Tace Gunther’s heart.

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!

“I’m so sorry.” The woman gazed into Tace’s eyes. A

single tear rolled down her cheek. !

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VI. !

I put on my best, most convincing smile, and headed

back out to the main area of the restaurant. !

“How is everything?” I asked the family seated next to

the baby grand piano. “May I get you anybody anything? Maybe a little more water?” My voice trembled a little. I admired the lady’s dress; it was dark red...and beautiful. !

A man wearing a blue shirt approached me.

!

“Excuse me, I wanted to let you know of an incident

over there.” He motioned towards the door. I saw Tace. !

“Right there?”

!

“Yes. We had a little spill.” The man strode towards the

restroom. !

I nodded my head and turned to the family I was

supposed to be taking salad orders from. Pearls were tied around the woman’s neck, a huge diamond ring graced her finger. I was impressed with the fact that she could even hold her hand up

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with a stone that large. The dress hung on the woman like it was meant for her; it was made of burgundy cloth, probably satin. Her and her husband laughed and held hands. The kids were entertaining their parents with playful antics. Even the youngest child was clothed in beauty with a white Oxford shirt, sleeves neatly folded. !

I wanted to be like them. I wanted to be rich. I wanted to

be the mother who was still attractive, the woman wearing the deep red dress that looked amazing. !

And yet, I was the waitress on the other side. The nearly

poor person who was relying on the unknown. That unknown was my appearance, apparently. I didn’t tend to be full of myself, but that’s what everybody else told me. I figured that the only reason I landed the job at The Haferman was because the boss was single and I was also. Although I knew attaining true happiness would take more than being good-looking. I needed something I could hold in my hand. I needed money.

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!

At the moment, I needed something else from wealth. I

needed to be alone. I walked back to the kitchen. Once there, I realized that all of my actions in the kitchen could be viewed from the outside. A huge, open ”window” was present. Only a small wall separated the guests from the kitchen. !

My need for solitude grew. I peered out the kitchen

window and saw Tace, aiminghis brilliant smile at another set of customers. I needed to be away from him. I was too distracted...in a wrong way. I felt that I was rushing into everything way too rapidly. !

Next, I did something that I would have previously

deemed impossible and unthinkable. I rushed out of The Haferman, still wearing my work clothes and half-apron. I jogged frantically to my car and put the key in the ignition. I always enjoyed the empowering sound of the car starting. I felt strong the moment the vehicle roared to life. However, there was a noise I loved even more than the engine starting: flooring the engine.

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!

My thirst for that adrenaline rush was quenched seconds

later. I pressed the pedal with an excessive amount of force and sent my car racing through the streets. Fellow drivers honked in anger; I heard it as the others cheering me on. I felt great. !

Flying at nearly eighty-five miles per hour, I then

realized the full possible consequences of my break-neck speed. With that, I gradually slowed to around thirty miles per hour-the speed limit. In a matter of seconds, every bit of euphoric adrenaline ceased streaming through my veins. The speed of my heartbeat diminished and my feverish breathing slackened. This sluggish velocity was practically torture, but I dealt with it. I drove through a sequence of angular streets, finally reaching my home. I wandered inside. !

I made sure to leave a message for my manager on the

telephone; I lied to him saying that my mom needed assistance at her retirement facility. This was, in retrospect a horrible lie: My mother could have simply called for a nurse to help her.

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!

I searched for “Gs” in the phone book. I immediately

picked out the different, unmistakable name: Gunther, Tace. I jotted down the number adjacent to the name, picked up the phone, and dialed Tace. !

The dial tone sounded once, twice, thrice, and then four

times. After the fourth time, I became worried that he wouldn’t pick up his phone. !

I checked the time. It was past closing time, and I

supposed that he Tace should be home. !

Finally, he picked up. I felt so relieved hearing his voice.

!

“Hello?” The suave tenor of his voice made me weak.

!

What was my problem? I barely even knew him! I found

myself asking the same question that had reappeared countless times before: how could I be feeling so flagrantly about a man I didn’t even know? !

In the midst of my recurring mental argument, I

reminded myself to talk.

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!

“Hey, Tace! How are you?” I immediately plunged into

my fabricated explanation. !

“Oh, sorry about earlier. I got a call from my mom and I

just had to leave. She’ll be fifty-three years old next month. She has Alzheimer’s disease, and...well...it’s hard but, whatever.” I noticed that Tace was having trouble responding to my borderline crazy speak. !

“I still have everything cleared for tomorrow, though.

Sorry, can you remind me where we were planning on going?” !

“I thought it would be fun to see a movie,” Tace said.

“Of course, we could do something else if you wanted to.” !

Tace preceded to supply me with a list of movies

currently in the theaters. I blindly chose the second one on the list without even knowing the premise. I didn’t care though; at least I could be within ten feet of Tace Gunther, wearing something else than my work uniform. !

I wished for something more to say to him, something to

prove to him that I was not the dunce that I was acting like.

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!

After a few brief moments of saddening, awkward dead

air, Tace spoke up and told me that he was very delighted, in the most chivalrous of words, to see me again the next day at work. I agreed with him and ended the phone call with a simple and professional, “Bye. It was nice speaking to you.” I put down the phone and collapsed on the couch in a confused and weary heap. ! !

I dreamed that night. I dreamed that Tace and I were

standing outside the movie theater, waiting for tickets. I just kept talking, a continuous flow of nonsense; anything that popped into my mind was streaming out of my mouth. Suddenly, Tace turned and slapped me across the face. His eyes were ablaze with anger and disgust. He told me to shut my mouth and I started to cry. Tace spat at my feet and walked away. !

I woke up breathing heavily and sweating profusely. I

knew that the way I was currently acting, voluble and immature, was not acceptable for a man as sophisticated as Tace Gunther. I knew that I must learn to filter what I was to say to Tace, only

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speaking important, thoughtful words. Tace needed intellectual stimulation, a person to match his lofty class. If I was to be with him, I would have to make a few changes--starting with my tendency to talk interminably. !

I closed my eyes.

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VII. !

The day was Friday. The day that two young, restless

people had been yearning for. !

Tace Gunther was out of bed at 7:13 AM, dressed in his

“day-clothes” and already very energetic. !

Minutes seemed like millennia for the antsy Mr.

Gunther. Tace turned on the television, sat down in his recliner, and changed the channel to the local news as he always did when he need to pass time. !

In some ways, Tace loved the plethora of free time that

he was blessed with; it set him apart from most occupations. Mr. Gunther enjoyed using the time to do most whatever he pleased. !

But on this particular day, Tace Gunther hated the time.

He disliked having so many hours to waste before six ‘o clock was to come. He planned to make his commute early that evening, in hopes that Abby would do the same. He prayed that Abby was anxious about seeing him, too. Tace feared that he

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could seem over-interested and as a result, averse emotions could begin being propagated against him. !

However, Tace Gunther was not a worrying man. He

desired to be a carefree, laid-back person. Remembering so, Tace left his apartment and preceded to jog down the three hundred-and-eight steps down to the lobby, ultimately ending up in the trusty gymnasium.! !

Exercise almost always guaranteed an improved morale

for Mr. Gunther, so he did so often. This fact attributed to Tace’s trim body and muscular physique. Tace ran on the treadmill for nearly one-and-a-half hours at a semi-dogged pace. Of course, Mr. Gunther could only being doing one other thing while running. His eyes were fixated upon the large flat screen television positioned at precise eye level in front of his treadmill. The program projected on the screen- the news -was yet again capturing Tace’s attention. This was not the local news that Tace was watching earlier. Instead, the network morning news was airing.

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!

Cheery, fake smiles were pasted on each anchorperson’s

face. Tace did not like the joking mannerisms that the people possessed, nor the obviously-scripted witty comments that the news team made. It made Tace uncomfortable the way that the men and woman currently broadcasting seemed perfect. He scoffed as if it were a coincidence that seven attractive, likable people happened to be assigned to one show. Tace tried not to get angry about the issue for he wanted to be in the most personable and friendly mood for the evening approaching. !

Mr. Gunther ended his rejuvenating visit to the gym with

a wave to the staff member working in the room. The employee had remained in the room for the duration of Tace’s workout and was stunned by Tace’s everlasting endurance. He even applauded Tace when he stepped off the treadmill. The small ovation brought a slight smile to Tace’s face. !

Tace Gunther’s need for exercise was still not satiated.

Tace decided to take a jog outdoors for a change in scenery.

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Strangely enough, Tace didn’t go outside very often, save his walk to The Haferman; he didn’t deem the act necessary. !

He stepped outside, waited a moment, basking in the

warmth radiated from the sun. Suddenly, Tace began sprinting with the quickness and agility of a wild puma. Narrowly avoiding countless pedestrians, Tace ran sans dignity, lacking regard for the opinions of his worried onlookers. Faces flashed in front of him. Tace resisted the urge to slow down and take in the uniqueness of the people in the street. !

He looked ahead and saw children sitting atop the

concrete entrance to a building. They held each other’s tender fingers in their own. The girl kissed the boy lightly on the cheek. With slight shock, the boy smiled at the girl and giggled. !

Tace darted by a pizzeria. Seated outdoors was a young

couple, accompanied by each set of parents. Every person in the party was laughing rather audibly, enjoying the company. Tace noticed the carefree nature of the group. A hand slung back, a head leaning on another’s shoulder, Tace was confused. He

34

wondered why they were not talking quietly, respecting those around them. Tace sprinted on. !

Yet another family was walking across the street. The

mother was holding a baby, cooing softly. The father had his arm wrapped around the mother, obviously unashamed of his affection for his spouse. !

In that very moment, Tace Gunther made a vow. He

came to grips with the futility of his approach towards Abby. He now knew that Abby was “laid back,” and not the uptight woman that he thought she was. Tace believed that Abby did not care about every minute detail that he himself was consumed with. Tace vowed to no longer mask his emotions. Tace made a binding self-agreement, a pledge to loosen up around Abby. Tace committed himself to an evolution of sorts. An evolution from a lifeless gargoyle to a friendly, likable human being.

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VIII. !

My alarm clock awakened me with an annoying

monotonous beep, ending my troubled period of time I spent in bed that night. I didn’t even remember moving myself from the couch to the bed. I groaned, yawned, and hit the OFF button on the top of the clock. The display read 11:28 AM. I had set it for 10:30.... !

I was thankful that I had slept half of the day away. The

way I saw it was, the more I slept, the sooner 6:00 would come. I was anxious to see how the date would turn out, to witness the real Tace Gunther. But most of all, I wanted to know what Tace would think of me. There was know way that Tace was as infatuated with me as I was with him. !

Once again, the recurring psychological argument

reappeared in my thoughts. I told myself that there was no way on earth that I could be so attached to anything without considerable circumstances. To quiet the feud, I decided that 36

the date would be the definitive event in the course of my emotions for Tace. If it went over well, I could truly say that I had a reason to justify my like for him. The date now became an ultimate trial in determining the validity of my uncontrollably amorous thoughts. !

I loafed lazily to my miniature kitchen. I filled a coffee

pot with water and began to prepare my morning pick-me-up. While waiting for the impossibly slow process to end, I started tidying up around my apartment, a frivolous task. !

I first dusted the baby grand piano in the living room

portion of my abode. Most people who came into my apartment scoffed at the fact that a ponderous piano had a place in my home. They thought that it was a waste of valuable space. In a way, they were right. I didn’t care, though. The piano had belonged to my mother. My father had bought the instrument for her as an anniversary gift. I remembered that she loved to watch him stroke the ivory keys, making up simple melodies with complex harmonies. The night before my father was killed in a

37

boating accident, he played a song for her, a ballad that perfectly captured their relationship and their enduring love. !

Looking back, I wished that I had learned the art of

playing the piano when it was still in my family’s possession. I knew that my father would have been happy to instruct me. Now, I had no one to teach me, let alone the money to pay for lessons. I thought that maybe playing the piano could make up for the self-disappointment that I struggled with. More than ever, I now wished that I had spoken up to him. !

I finished the cleaning and began re-reading The Great

Gatsby, finding my favorite passage.

"And as I sat there, brooding on the old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby's wonder when he first picked out Daisy's light at the end of his dock. He had come such a long way to this blue lawn, and his dream must have seemed so close he could hardly fail to grasp it. But what he did not know was that it was already behind him, somewhere in the vast obscurity beyond the city, where the dark fields of the republic rolled on under the night."

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!

I sat stationary for a moment, dwelling on the beauty of

Fitzgerald’s words, savoring the serenity of the scene that sprouted from the genius of his mind. !

The coffee timer sounded and I got up to get it, book in

hand. I reached the counter and flipped to another great excerpt:

“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.” ! !

I extended my hand, grasping for the pot. My eyes were

still absorbing the text on the page. All of a sudden, my hand felt ablaze. I looked down to find that I was not gripping the plastic

39

handle of the pot, but the glass. I yelped. An expletive flew from my mouth. !

The pain crawled up my forearm, the feeling was almost

crippling. I dampened a washcloth and cocooned my hand inside of its relieving coolth. !

I examined my palm. The skin had turned an angry

scarlet color. I wrapped the cloth around my hand again, wincing at the discomfort. !

I moseyed over to my window. The view from the

seventh floor of my building overlooked the worser aspects of classic urban scenery: trash-littered sidewalks, dirty streets, busy humans, etc. I envied the residents of the higher floors. Their views were not as nearly detailed as mine. They had the privilege of seeing the city as a functioning body, while I saw the individual detractors of the city. They were not bothered by the noises of the streets or the trashed sidewalks. Instead, they were enabled with the sight of the tops of the majestic skyscrapers

40

found in the city. I beheld the flaws, they were in awe of the magnificent façade of the architecture. !

A pang of hurt blasted through my still-burning hand. I

placed it under a fount of cold water from the faucet. To my thanks, the water alleviated a large amount of pain. I realized that my hand could pose an issue during the date that night. To solve that, I added a long-sleeved jacket to my bag of clothes I was going to change into after work. !

I glanced at the clock. It was now 3:52. I was shocked at

the excessive amount of time the coffee pot episode had consumed but also irked that I still had nearly two hours to waste before driving to work. !

I considered calling Tace but then decided against it. I

predicted the silences that would accompany the conversation. I didn’t have anything to discuss with Tace. On top of that, Tace was a quiet man; he wasn’t timid but rather waiting to speak on a more important occasion. I respected his sincerity when he did choose to talk. Going deeper, I found that I liked the fact that

41

Tace said little. It made me feel almost honored when he conversed with me, I could assure that it had meaning. !

I smiled when I thought of him.

!

! !

42

IX. !

Tace Gunther inspected himself carefully in the mirror

as he buttoned his white Oxford shirt. He then knotted the bow tie he had knotted so many times before. !

Mr. Gunther completed the tuxedo by slipping the black

satin vest and jacket on, both issued to him by The Haferman. !

Finally, Tace fastened his watch on. After doing so, Tace

stopped the way he always did, systematically every time he left his apartment. !

However, on this night, an evening so anticipated, Tace

scrutinized himself longer than he usually did. In fact, Tace stared in the mirror for a full minute before deeming himself approved for Abby Sullivan. !

Since his date offer had been accepted by Abby, Tace

cared even more about himself, particularly the way he dressed. He could not begin to fathom how much he would hate himself for being rejected by Abby for a reason like a poor appearance.

43

!

At precisely 5:16 PM, Mr. Gunther, with a duffle bag of

clothes to change into, walked out of his room and boarded the elevator. He reached the ground level and walked through the lobby and revolving door. !

Tace began his walk. He enjoyed taking note of the

insignificant details that changed from day to day. Sometimes, Tace saw the same people as the day before. !

To pass the time, Tace enjoyed fabricating backgrounds

of people’s lives, or making up stories about the passerby in general. !

For example, Tace spotted a woman- she had untidy hair

and wrinkled clothes. She was pushing a stroller with a screaming African-American toddler inside. His tantrum was relentless. As Tace walked towards her, his vision focused and he began to search for a wedding ring on the mother’s fingers. !

Tace looked for the ring because, he ashamedly

wondered if she had participated in an affair with a man who was not her husband. After a few seconds of contemplating this

44

possibility, Tace decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt by concluding that she had simply adopted the child, instead of acquiring the child via the other shameful method. !

As Tace came to the final segment of his travel, his

thoughts began to frantically jumble. Excitement and uncertainty clouded his mind like a high from a narcotic. He was still unsure how the date would unravel. !

Even under the most harrowing of conditions, Tace

Gunther kept his external composure in a calm state splendidly. Abby Sullivan proved to be the one exception. Anytime Tace thought of her, his hands began to sweat and unease covered him. He did not know what to say to her. !

Tace worried that he and Abby would develop a very

special bond, one of torrid love and companionship. Tace was unnerved that he would be the one to wreck the relationship. Tace feared that his inferior social skills would be responsible for the downfall of a love so great.

45

!

Almost like imagining his own death, Mr. Gunther often

tried to guess what the denouement of his partnership with Abby would be the result of. But before the end, Tace knew there had to be a beginning. Tace wondered if they would like each other even after their first full conversation. !

Tace sighed as a sign proclaiming “The Haferman”

stared at him.

46

X. !

I slowly applied the brake in my car as I approached The

Haferman. I noticed Tace and smiled at the humorous misplacement of the scene: a tall man wearing a tuxedo, standing in front of a restaurant, back to the road. !

I parked my car against the curb of the street. I wasn’t

directly looking at him, but I knew that Tace’s olive green eyes were focused on me the entire time. This didn’t make me uncomfortable, though. I had grown accustomed to being watched, I was now used to being noticed. However, the attention was beginning to tire me. !

Tace’s stare was unlike any before. I felt a sense of safety

when he watched me, a feeling of being protected. His was so much different than Robert’s lustful ogle. I opened my car door and walked around to the trunk, where I got my duffle bag out. I hoped Tace didn’t notice that one of my hands was not being put into use.

47

!

I casually slung the bag over my shoulder and walked

towards the entrance of the restaurant. !

For one of the only times I had ever witnessed, I caught

Tace grinning crookedly at me. I glanced down and around, as if I was checking to see if anything was wrong. He laughed and I giggled, too. !

Tace opened the door to The Haferman for me. I neared

his trim body. I restrained myself from losing control and embracing him. Instead, I straightened his bow tie. Most employees I worked with became odd, even dorky when they wore the tie - Tace pulled the look off nicely. !

“Hey,” Tace said. “You’re early.”

!

“Yep. You are, too.”

!

“So, are you ready for tonight?” He asked.

!

“Oh yeah!”

!

Tace laughed again. It was surprisingly easy to be

around him. I prayed that the ease would remain later that night.

48

!

“We just have to get through another night of listening

to these annoying people talk about a bunch of nothing.” Tace said. !

“Well, that’s true. But now I have something to look

forward to afterwards.” !

We entered the main part of the restaurant, Tace

following behind me. The Haferman’s setup was constructed similarly to most fancy, black-tie restaurants. The building consisted of two floors; a bar was located on the upper floor. Lucky for me, Tace and I were mostly assigned to tables on the lower floor. !

We decided to chat for a minute at one of the open

tables before our shifts started. !

Tace sat down. He leaned forward, seeming to inspect

me. I laughed nervously, not sure of what he was doing. !

“Is everything alright, Tace?”

!

“Yes! I’m just thinking about the movie. I hear it’s

good.” Tace said.

49

!

“Oh, cool. I’m excited about it!” I reminded myself to

not say “cool.” !

“It’s already nominated for an Oscar.”

!

“Oh, really?”

!

The full extent of the amount of awkwardness slapped

me in the face. I wanted to be comfortable, casual, loose around him. !

As Tace went on to explain to basic plot line of the

movie from what he had seen during the preview, I stared at him. His glowing white teeth dazzled me. His strange green eyes penetrated my very core and evoked feeling that would have otherwise been hidden. !

Tace seemed not to notice that I was gaping at him. He

didn’t take note of the fact that I was fixed upon his absurd beauty. !

Mr. Bunting, the shift manager in charge of both Tace

and me, flittered by our table. He rapped his knuckles swiftly on the wood, signaling the start of our shift. I looked up from Tace.

50

!

“Lets go people. Come on, we got hungry mouths to

feed.” Mr. Bunting said with a touch of feminineness. !

Tace got up from his seat and walked around to my end

of the table. He waited for me to rise. When I did, he chivalrously pushed my chair in and walked around to push his in. !

“Thanks.” I said. Tace and I began to walk towards the

kitchen. !

“Well, time for work, I suppose. I’ll see you afterwards.

Let’s meet, hmm, upstairs, okay? I personally prefer the upstairs area over the downstairs area. The bar is upstairs.” !

“So you like to drink?”

!

“No. That’s not the reason I like the upstairs. The bar is

the place where unbridled thoughts are let loose. I love to see shocking honesty.” !

“Even if sometimes, and I’m just guessing here, that

same honesty tears people apart?” !

“You mean relationships apart?”

51

!

“Yes.”

!

“If those relationships are broken as a result of someone

telling the truth, one could say that those two people should not be together.” !

“Oh.” I remained silent for a moment.

!

“There is nothing more important than the truth,

Abby.” !

We both entered the kitchen. The other waiters and

waitresses were in a clump around an iPhone held by a woman named Leslie. A chorus of laughs suddenly arose from the group. !

Mr. Bunting entered the room. His gait resembled one

of a woman on a mission, though I would have never said that to anyone. !

“Y’all! We got customers! Get moving!” He exclaimed.

!

Mr. Bunting was from Connecticut, I remembered. I

didn’t understand his Southern accent. !

52

XI. !

Tace Gunther arrived at the bar.

!

“Hello, sir, how are you tonight?”

!

The man seemed only half-awake. He slowly turned

around to face Tace. Mr. Gunther knew that only alcohol could be responsible for the man’s slothful actions. !

“I’m fine...and yourself?”

!

“I’m doing great. Would you like something to eat? Our

specials tonight are the stuffed portobello, which comes with a side of grilled zucchini. We also have the chicken caprese panini, served open-faced. I would like to recommend the-” The man cut Tace off. !

“Did I ask you to list the whole menu to me?”

!

“No, sir.” Tace’s composure stayed at ease.

!

“Well then, don’t.”

!

“Yes, sir. May I get anything else for you?”

53

!

“How ‘bout that?” The man gestured sluggishly to a

waitress walking up the stairs. That waitress was Abby Sullivan. !

“Her?” Tace asked.

!

“Mmmhmm, her....”

!

“I’m afraid that I can’t do that.”

!

The man stopped and looked at Tace.

!

“And why not?”

!

“Because I hear she’s taken.”

!

“Is that right? Well....” The man trailed off and closed

his eyes. !

“I also hear that the man who is currently with her loves

her very much. He would do anything for her, as long as she still liked him.” !

“That man is beat.” The man said, eyes still closed.

!

“Some people would call that ‘in love.’”

!

“Trust me...it’s only love if the woman likes the man

back.”

54

!

Tace sat down next to the man. Fellow waiters, dressed

in black, scurried around the restaurant. !

“So you think her boyfriend is wrong for loving

someone that probably doesn’t love him back?” Tace questioned sincerely. !

Mr. Gunther could not believe that he was actually

having a lasting conversation with a drunk man in which advice was being given. !

“He’s not wrong...just in for a hell-of-a ride.”

!

“So what do you suggest the boyfriend does?

!

The man picked up a cocktail napkin and blew his nose.

!

“What?”

!

“What should the boyfriend do? Should he follow her,

hoping that she’ll come around to loving him? Or should he stop trying so hard?” !

“I don’t know,” The man scowled. “But if she leaves

him, he better be ready for some hurt.” !

Tace Gunther got up and walked down the stairs.

55

!

When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he stopped

and gripped the banister. !

Abby was caring for a couple by the piano. He wondered

why she always chose to serve patrons seated near the piano. She laughed and the couple laughed along with her. Abby turned around and started for the kitchen. She glanced in Tace’s direction. Quickly, Tace diverted his gaze.

56

XII. !

Eagerness took control as my final group of customers

left. I was free to leave. !

I saw Tace at the bottom of the stairs, looking at

something that was apparently on the ground. I walked towards him and tapped him on the shoulder. His face practically lit up. !

“Oh, hey! I didn’t see you.”

!

“Sorry! Okay, I’m going to get changed and I’ll meet

you upstairs.” !

“I’ll do the same.” He said.

!

I brushed by him. His muscled chest nudged me.

!

“Abby,”

!

“Yes?”

!

“We need to hurry. The movie starts in twenty

minutes.” !

“Got it. I’m going.”

57

!

I changed clothes as fast as I could. My speed could have

been accredited to the overwhelming anticipation for the date. I couldn’t wait! !

I exited the bathroom.

!

“Okay, come on, Tace!” I cried, grabbing his hand.

!

We walked down to the main level and out the front

door. !

“Should we take a car to the theatre?” I asked.

!

“Let’s walk. I like the exercise.”

!

We began our twelve-block journey. Every so often, I

peeked at Tace. Each time, his vision appeared to be set on the path. Various people passed us, of all sorts. They seemed to look at us longer than they would look at other people. Was it because he was beautiful? Was it because I was beautiful? Was it so strange that two attractive people, who weren’t celebrities, were walking together? Once, again, Tace seemed not to notice. !

“Hey, Abby,”

!

“Yep?”

58

!

“There is no way we can make it to that movie.”

!

We both stopped.

!

“Well, what do we do?” I asked. Dread filled me as I

thought of the possibility that our date could be cancelled. !

“Let’s just keep walking. Maybe something fun will

come up.” !

I smiled at the impracticability of something

entertaining arising on the streets of our city. Over the few years I had spent in the city, I concluded that the adage “a city that never sleeps,” definitely didn’t apply to my location. My city absolutely slept. The only thing that distinguished my city from a quaint town, was the size of the area and the setting. It was almost as if a quiet village had been moved into an urban place. !

“That’s fine.” I said.

!

With hands in pockets, Tace began again.

!

“So, Miss Sullivan, has anything new or noteworthy

happened with you lately?” !

I thought for a moment. 59

!

“Well, since we had that whole conversation about

honesty, nothing has.” !

“Oh.” Tace smiled and nodded his head.

!

“My life is almost completely deprived of thrills.

Basically, I live alone in an apartment and sit around all day, waiting for six o’ clock to roll around.” !

“Your life,” Tace said, “is extreme.”

!

“Thanks.” I giggled and continued.

!

“Some days, that time kills me.”

!

Tace agreed.

!

“I sometimes wonder why I chose to be a waitress at a

restaurant like The Haferman.” !

“Really? Why?”

!

“Well, there’s a lot of reasons. For starters, I don’t even

have a hobby to occupy me until six o’ clock. And, the pay is pretty much horrible. And, Mr. Bunting really freaks me out, and-”

60

!

“Alright, I understand!” Tace said. “But between you

and me, Mr. Bunting does make me uncomfortable.” !

Tace dazzled me with a burning white smile. However, it

was his intense green eyes got me every time. When they focused on me, I felt like the most important person in the world. They sucked me in like a twig in quicksand. As soon as he set his eyes on me, I resisted succumbing to Tace’s magnetic pull. His perfect features beckoned me to draw closer. !

“Abby?” Tace chuckled. “Hello?”

!

I snapped out of my trance. I awkwardly looked around.

!

“Sorry.” I hated the way I had to apologize for staring at

him. !

“Alright. Your turn to ask me a question.”

!

“So it’s a game now?”

!

“Stop stalling.” Tace grinned.

!

“I’m not!” I protested. “Here goes. What do you like

most about the city?” !

“The most?”

61

!

“Now you’re stalling!”

!

“No, I have an answer, unlike somebody.”

!

I pushed him playfully.

!

“That’s an easy question. People.”

!

“People?” I almost couldn’t believe him. “Why?”

!

“Without people, I would be nothing. The people in this

city keep me from going crazy.” !

“Really? But, no offense, you’re so quiet! How can they

‘keep you alive’ if you barely talk to them?” !

“You have only seen me around the customers at The

Haferman. Those people I could manage to do without. I’m talking about the people outside The Haferman, and I don’t really have to speak to them to like them. I love the wonder behind them, the mystery of their backgrounds. Let me explain. Do you see that old man right there?” !

Tace subtly pointed to a man walking with a dog.

!

“That man could have trained his animal to be a hunting

dog. A dog to retrieve his kills. He may have used that dog on a

62

hunting trip in Maine ten years ago. His wife (now ‘ex-wife’) could have accompanied him on the trip. That same dog could have done something to make the wife realize that she didn’t want to be the spouse of man who kills animals for profit. But I don’t know! That’s the exciting part. I probably sound very weird right now, and I’m sorry for that, but, do you understand why I love them? There is an infinite number of reasons why people do what they do.” !

Tace exhaled deeply. I didn’t know what to say. I had

never come into contact with someone so imaginative and observant. !

“I do understand. If all that is true, then wouldn’t talking

to them and getting to know them be just as enjoyable? Wouldn’t that be like reading the satisfying end to a good novel?” !

“Yes. But most of the time, I am too embarrassed to

approach them. Normal people don’t just walk up to others and

63

ask them about their lives. On top of that, it’s rude. As a result, I am friendless.” A look of discontent washed over Tace’s face. !

I realized that the emotion in Tace’s eyes wasn’t what I

thought it was. Instead, I now knew that it was all of the strife that he had endured during those nights alone. The allure in the green of his irises had been cultivated by the hurt he had carried throughout his time in the city. !

Again, I was at a loss for what to do.

!

“I’m sorry to hear that, Tace.” I said in a feeble try to

comfort him. “You always have me.” !

“Thanks, Abby.” He laughed and all of the tenseness

created from the prior speech shattered. !

“No problem.” However, I found it hard to put myself in

Tace’s position. I had always had friends. !

But when I looked into the eyes of Tace Gunther, all of

the pain and misfortune that had become of his solitude was instantly mine.

64

!

For the following half-hour, I gleaned some insightful

information from Tace. I learned that he was twenty-four years old and was born in the northwest. !

Our “date” went on smoothly. I determined that Tace

enjoyed making me laugh: an attribute that I appreciated. I soon realized that my legs were aching from our trek. !

“Tace?”

!

“Yes, Abby?”

!

“Can we stop and rest for a minute? Sorry, I’m kind of a

wimp.” !

Lucky for me, I sidewalk bench was located a few yards

away. I sat down and sighed, the strain in my legs was alleviated. Tace sat next to me, hands still in pockets. !

I turned my head upwards and looked at the sky. The

sun had set and the night was defeating the light. Eerie purple curtains hung above us, swathing the scene in breathtaking beauty. Several skyscrapers were outlined in front of the purple, though it was now too dark to make out the individual

65

boundaries of each. The ambiance of the lights that were on inside of them were mixing with the surrounding color, making warm blocks of dark yellow suspended over the streets. Tace took note of it, too. !

“Wow” was all both of us could utter. I had never seen

the city in a more strikingly gorgeous tone than that. !

Tace was silent for a while.

!

I felt compelled to say something to Tace. I struggled to

articulate my thoughts for him. I hoped that the reason Tace wasn’t talking was the same as mine: that we both liked each other. !

I shivered.

!

“Abby,”

!

“Yes?”

!

“I don’t think that the night we spent together couldn’t

have been made better by anything.” !

“I don’t think it could either.”

66

!

What was I saying? I was making it sound like I was fully

in love with him! I needed to let it out, though. !

He continued. “I know it wasn’t what you expected, but

I hope you enjoyed it.” !

“Thank you, and I did enjoy it. It doesn’t have to end

right now! My apartment is just a couple blocks from here. We can say goodbye there.” !

“What about your car?”

!

“I’ll catch a cab tomorrow or walk or something. So will

you walk me home?” I added a somewhat pleading tone to my offer. !

“Well of course I’ll walk you home! You know, I am not

as rude as you think!” Tace got up from the bench. !

I punched him lightly in the arm.

!

“Alright, let’s get moving.” He extended his hand down

to me. I put my fingers in his hand and he pulled me up from my seated position.

67

!

In near noiselessness, Tace and I walked down the

sidewalks on the way to my apartment. !

Occasionally, Tace or I would accidentally bump into a

bustling passerby. I noticed that Tace was the only person on our walk to apologize for running into somebody else. I admired the fact that Tace thought enough about other people’s welfare to say “excuse me,” or “sorry,”. What struck me was that Tace never ceased to stop caring. !

With each step, we moved closer to my home. I sadly

remembered that my evening with Tace was drawing to a close. The disappointment in me was flagrant. I didn’t want our time to end. I wanted to know everything possible about Tace Gunther. !

Fifteen yards later, we reached the entrance to my

apartment building. The sky now only consisted of black, no longer any purple. The lights shining from the lobby in front of us illuminated Tace’s painfully sad eyes. !

At that very moment, I could not refrain from stepping

towards him. I ran my fingers through his hair.

68

!

Thankfully, he countered by also stepping towards me. I

raised my head to look into his eyes. Tace placed his hand gently on my chin and a chill shot down my spine. He gingerly stroked my cheek. A storm inside of me rose. I closed my eyes and leaned my head closer to his. I inhaled the dizzying scent emanating from Tace’s body. Without warning, I felt his lips touch to mine. I raised my hands and held the sides of his head. !

As his lips caressed mine, every thirst for him I

possessed was filled. Our bodies pressed even closer; heat from his body leapt onto mine. !

I though about pulling away. I didn’t want to overdo it

on our first date. I instantly retracted the idea and focused back on making the most of the kiss. !

I wrapped my arms around his neck. Tace pulled me into

him, his hand firm on my waist. !

A tear rolled down my cheek.

!

“Abby,” Tace pulled away. “What’s wrong? Why are

you crying?” He asked softly, wiping the tear away.

69

!

I mustered a bleak laugh. Like the date, I didn’t want the

kiss to end. !

“I don’t know. But I’m alright - I promise.”

!

However, I knew exactly why I was crying. During the

kiss, I felt as if Tace was telling my that he needed me. I guess that he did need me. I guessed that the kiss we shared was his first in a long time. But in a way, I needed him. !

Tace was “grounded.” He knew that there was more

important matters than sex appeal. The irony of the situation was that he was obviously gifted with a great appearance but he didn’t care. He only cared about others. !

Tace only cared about people.

!

!

70