Locked Door

Chapter 7

By this point I had already seen too much in order to be baffled by the sudden appearance of a gas can in my apartment. It was clear, the apartment had to be destroyed. I felt bad for the other tenants, since some of them probably owned the place, but it was too dangerous. Besides, insurance would cover their losses. I was worried about being arrested for arson, but whether it was my sleep-deprived and traumatized mind, I decided to go forward with the plan anyway. I still wasn't sure who Martin was and what his role in all this was, or whether I could even trust him. It didn't matter though, because the apartment had to be destroyed nonetheless.

I bent down and reached for the gas can, when I heard my doorbell ring, almost making me jump out of my skin. Confused, I looked at my watch to see if perhaps it was later than I thought. 4:23 am.

Who could it be at this hour? As I approached the door, a knocking on it resounded. Whoever it was, they were not about to leave. I peered through the peephole and saw an old man's face on the other side of the door. Vincent. Dammit, I can't let him see the gas can. I put the zippo in my pocket and hurriedly picked up the surprisingly heavier than thought can, hauling it to my bedroom. I then rushed to the door, hearing my doorbell ring again.

I unlocked the door and opened it, trying to act surprised that it was Vincent.

"Hey, Nate. How's it going?" – he smiled.

"Vince? It's 4 am, is everything okay?" – I asked, holding the door half-open and ready to close it any moment.

"I was actually gonna ask you the same. What are you doing up at this hour? Sounded downstairs like you're having aerobic exercises."

I didn't know what he meant, but decided to play along, so I said:

"Oh, sorry about that. I uh, I slipped and fell and then just knocked down a lot of things which I had to clean up. Didn't mean to wake you up."

"Nah, it's fine, son. Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, I am. So um..." – I waited for him to say goodbye.

Vincent puckered up his lips and nodded, looking down at his shoes, before looking back at me.

"Can I come in for a few minutes?" – he asked.

I was so caught off guard that I simply opened my mouth, not sure what to say to politely decline.

"Just for a few minutes." – he said when he saw my hesitation – "I know it's really early in the morning, but just wanted to talk to you about something."

I nodded hesitantly and opened the door widely, gesturing him to come in. We sat in the living room and I didn't offer him anything to drink this time, since I wanted him to leave as soon as possible.

"Listen, son." – he started – "About our last conversation. I'm sorry about the way I behaved. It wasn't very polite of me to see you out before Marge served lunch."

"No, it's fine." – I dismissed his statement – "I mean, I should be the one apologizing."

"No, no. You were curious, and it's normal. Hell, I'd have a lot of questions if I were in that situation, too. Susan was like that, too. Curious about everything, never stopping until she completed a task or got her answers. You remind me of her a lot, you know." – he looked at me with sadness in his eyes.

I didn't respond. I was somewhat moved by what he said, but my mind was elsewhere right now. Every now and again I'd glance at the storage door. Vincent looked down and let out a chuckle, shaking his head. He looked at me and continued speaking:

"The truth is, I had stopped thinking about her, since I simply wanted to push it out of my mind and never think about it again. But that's impossible. This apartment is a constant reminder. And then there's you, Nathan. Every time I see you, I remember her. And it makes me sad and happy at the same time. I know it all probably sounds stupid."