Olivia's perspective
We walk to Leida's apartment just talking about the weather and trivial things we see along the way. As we arrive and walk up the stairs and emerge into her great room, I get a powerful sense of déjà vu. Last time I was here, it was confusing, intense, and also—frightening.
I look over to Leida's bed and up to the ceiling—still no star charts, which truly amazes me as I had such a strong experience of stars in my LSD trip.
We hang our coats and Leida takes some mail from the drop downstairs to her kitchen where she apparently keeps such things.
"Do you want something to drink, O-li..via?" she asks me.
"Maybe a Coke, or whatever you have?" I put my bag on her table.
"Okay." I hear her moving around and I walk also into the kitchen. She is preparing two glasses of Coke. I walk to the back door and look outside—a light is on back there, and I see a small yard with bushes and plants and a couple of small trees. All is in winter mode. Any outdoor furniture must also be in for the season.
I turn and Leida is smiling at me, a sort of knowing smile like she feels joy about some unnamed thing. She hands me my Coke and I sip it, looking around at the cabinets and fridge, toaster and other kitchen things.
"Let's go sit and talk," she says to me. Leida walks to her couch which backs up against the street-side window, puts her drink on a side table, flops down on the couch in her long maxi dress, pulls up her legs and takes off her boots and socks. She pats the couch seat next to her, still smiling at me.
I look at the couch, then I turn and look at her table with two chairs. I put my Coke on the end table with hers and go and drag one of the chairs over to be next to the side table and facing Leida. This way I can drink and see her as we talk. I sit and cross my legs and arms.
Leida makes a little pout and says, "Oh, sitting way over there?" She looks at her dress and says, "I will get this off to be more comfortable."
First, she walks around the room closing the blinds—each falling with a pleasant zingy sound. Then she goes to her closet, opens it, and reaches with both hands to her shoulders and grabs and pulls her long dress over her head and forward, tugging it completely from her body. She is wearing beige underwear. She hangs her dress and then turns to face me, smiling, like before. She breathes in deeply, mutters something to herself and then goes to her dresser opening a drawer and pulling out a couple of items, and then goes to the girls room, closing the door.
While Leida is occupying herself, I walk back to the back door again. I see the switch and flip it, turning off the light to the back. Then I open the fridge—various leftovers, fresh foodstuff, vegetables, drinks, the usual things. I close the door and walk out to her table. I sit at the table and consider—what am I doing here? Leida is a very persuasive person. But I don't feel totally comfortable.
She opens the door and reenters the room, first looking to the couch and stopping, surprised, and then over to where I sit and she says, "Oh." She turns and walks back to her dresser and opens a couple of drawers, and finds what appears to be a long shirt. She walks over to me and says, "You can wear this if you want." It is a light green largish night shirt. "Leida..." I begin.
I see she is wearing a sheer pretty yellow negligee with sleeves to mid-arm, and falling to mid-thigh.
She leaves the kitchen light on and goes over to turn on a floor lamp next to the couch. She walks back to me.
"Come back to the couch and let's talk, O-li..via. Okay?"
I look at the dark in the window next to the table. I breathe in deeply and sigh, stand and follow her to the couch, the shirt in my hand.
YOU ARE READING
The Wall Crossers
Não FicçãoStep into the captivating world of "The Wall Crossers," a spellbinding tale set against the backdrop of Cold War-era West Berlin in 1971 and 1972 to the latter half of the 21st century, from Berlin to Bhutan. This narrative weaves together the lives...
