The Dove Keeper

Security

Gerard talked a lot on the way to his apartment. His tongue flashed and flicked in his mouth as he enunciated words, bringing in other dialects like it was nothing. He had this weird fascination with the French language and sometimes even talked with its accent, while slipping in the occasional French word or two. His favourite expression definitely appeared to be ‘sacré bleu’ - the same word he had shouted at us before he tossed down the bucket of paint. When we finally reached the steel gray door to this place, the one he had come out of the day before, and were greeted with the brightly coloured sidewalk, Gerard let out a deep throaty laugh and let the common phrase burst forth from his fleshy pink lips. 

“What does that even mean, anyway?” I asked him as he held the door open for me. I walked inside the dark corridor of the apartment building first, my back to him as he stepped inside, feeling vulnerable. I waited in the dim light for him to walk up past me and make me feel less nervous, but he remained in the frame of the now closed door. He stopped, looking at me, giving me one of his now more recognized innocent ‘what are you waiting for?’ faces. His eyebrows were raised and he had a smirk planted on his lips as he watched me shift my weight from side to side nervously in the dark hall. I didn’t know where the fuck to go. Why was he making me lead? I grabbed the inside of my pockets and began to squeeze it hard, feeling very susceptible in the dark with a forty year old. 

“Turn to your left and take the stairs all the way to the top,” he said in one breath, shaking his head slightly. He knew he had started to scare me, only a little, but he still had to bite his lip to keep from making fun of me more. However, his battle was unsuccessful and he let his thoughts spill forth. “You are so hilarious sometimes.” 

“What? Why?” I asked, still standing in one spot but not shifting nervously. I began to move, finding the staircase in the exact place he said it would be and moving up it when he motioned with his hand, giving me another one of those looks. 

“Because,” Gerard started, taking the steps two by two and nearly beating me at our undeclared race up them. I was in no hurry however, and I let him win by a nose. At least I wasn’t leading anymore. I always hated doing that; especially in other people’s houses. I never felt comfortable in my surroundings, so I didn’t want to make my way through them first. As long as I had someone’s previous footprints to follow, I was good. 

It took me awhile to realize Gerard hadn’t answered my question with little more than a conjunction. I had been too busy trying to fall at least an inch behind the strong man walking up the stairs confidently. The next thing I knew, we were at his door and he was fumbling in his pocket for his keys. The walls around me in the hall were painted a dark olive green, but the door knobs and the peepholes were all etched in a mousy brass colour, now stained with a slight film from old age and disrepair. Everything around me was so bright and vivid but the lighting had not changed since the dark stairwell where all I could see was metal and concrete around me. 

“You didn’t answer my question,” I informed Gerard. I stood behind him with my hands folded over my chest as I heard the jingling of his keys. 

“Sacré blue,” he stated with his French accent, drawing out the words. “Sacred blue. Reference to the virgin mother. It’s a curse word. Like holy shit here.”

I furrowed my brow, feeling my body grow tense again. I had completely forgotten I had even asked that question. Even though I could only see the back of Gerard’s head, I could tell he was smiling. He was purposely trying to divert my attention from him calling me hilarious. I was not going down that easy.

“No, the other question,” I corrected, my voice stern and strong. I even specified my claim, so he couldn’t play dumb. And with Gerard, I knew he would have to play dumb because he certainly wasn’t in real life. “Why did you call me hilarious?”