AKŞAM GÜNEŞİ
Key had fallen asleep in Gayandi Lovette the jazz mans armchair. I couldn't sleep. I sat up all night into the morning. I kept rolling joints and packing the pipe, nothing seemed to ease my mind. Not even the opium stone. I was anxious. It had been a very long time since I had been anxious. Life in Mercer street isn't dull I'd say. But it's nothing extraordinary. Surely, you would have to leave and visit another time and place to find something extraordinary. I like to think sometimes, that, through our years of friendship and business, key and I have built something quite extraordinary in a quite mundane place.
"Pssssssst" I heard through the door. It startled me at first. And then I felt a great wave of relief come over my entire being.
KNOCKS on door.
"May I come in?"
I knew that voice. I could pick it out of a line up of near identical voices. That smooth, sultry, maple syrup tone.
It took me a quick moment to register what was happening. I stood up from the armchair on the other side of the bed. I didn't care much for this armchair. It definitely wasn't as special as Gayandi the jazz mans armchair. It isn't nearly as beautiful.
"Oh yes please do come in dear." I said, I tried not to sound startled. I wanted to seem welcoming. I didn't want her to be frightened of us. But I suppose if she was frightened of us she wouldn't be knocking at my door.
She walked in, and somehow her hair was still wet with rain. But, her body and clothes were dry. I didn't understand it. Key stayed asleep in Gayandi the jazz mans armchair upon her entrance.
"How can I help you?" I asked
"Can you tell me where I am?" she replied. She sounds awake. Very awake. But it is so early. Such a strange bird this Margo.
"You are currently at the Key/Shawn apartment house of Mercer street." I told her with great pride. Surely she has heard of us. Why else would she choose our apartment house to barge into of all the places around.
"I thought I might be in Mercer street." She replied. The way she said it made the hair on my neck stand up. So she had been here before, I thought so. It really isn't the easiest place to find.
"Oh have you been here before, Margo?" I asked in a somewhat excited tone while trying maintain my cool as a cucumber attitude.
"I can remember all the colors. The different colors that people's shoes leave everywhere they walk. I always enjoyed that small detail here. I know I can only see mine. But knowing that everyone's are unique is something just so magical. Knowing everywhere you've gone so you can always find your way back. It's a lovely addition to the space here." she exclaimed.
I honestly hated the colors. Ive gotten used to them over the many years here in Mercer street. But I hated them. I did not like the idea that anyone could find my colors and just follow them and eventually find me. Even though that isn't how it works. The colors are unique to each of us in that only I can see my colors. Unless, I code in someone else, such as Key. It is one of the oldest algorithms of Mercer Street, and it's never been changed. Visitors don't get their own color. They simply get stuck with grey. I just often wonder if the color scheme is as anonymous as we're told it is. I enjoy a certain amount of solitude in my old age. That's why we live at the end way way way waaaaaay away from everyone else.
Its not that we hate people. We find our way into town a few times a week. I sit and talk with the old timers at the market so I can hear stories about different times and places. Times and places with rain.
"So what brings you to Mercer street, Margo?" I asked in my usual, curious tone.
"I don't really know. I must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. It's happened to me a few times recently." She said in a somewhat blaise manner.
"But Uncle Eek always finds me. I don't know this time though. Mercer street is very difficult to find. The folks here have hidden it well. I am not sure what I am going to do now." She spoke in a very unenthusiastic tone.
I looked up from the joint I was rolling to see her staring helplessly out the round square window I cut in the wall about seventeen years ago or so. She looks captivated by the purple sun that's rising to the south. Her eyes haven't closed in at least two minutes.
It's funny, because here I am captivated by her being captivated by the purple sun.
Purple suns were a nice surprise I got after arriving to Mercer street all those years ago. The sun is always different here and it kind of goes wherever it wants too in the sky, but every now and then it becomes the most wonderful sight a set of eyes can see. The purple sun always brings a good day.
"It's just so splendiferous" she finally spoke, twirling around and finding her way to the floor. Her voice sounded like it was that of a child in a candy store waiting with her hands out for those sweet sugary treats.
She propped herself up on the side of Gayandi Lovette the jazz mans armchair. My favorite armchair. I couldn't help but take a picture in my mind of the two lovely people set before me appearing to be so at peace that it sort of lifts the energy of the room as a whole. Key, fast asleep in Gayandi Lovette the jazz mans armchair. And Margo, sitting on the floor propped up against the side of the same chair, wrapping her hair up in a rather magnificent bun.
I knew Key would enjoy when I describe the mental picture to him later.
Margo popped up suddenly, her movements woke Key slightly. Key stretched out quite long before sitting up fully in Gayandi's chair. Rubbing his eyes and raising his arms, he looked to Margo and I. I could tell he needed a cup of coffee.
"Here you are, I didn't know if you took cream or sugar so I brought you both. And some honey. I like using honey in my coffee. So I brought you some." Margo said as she gave key his coffee. She disappeared to the kitchen and back almost like magic. I didn't even notice her leave. She sounds kind of nervous. Or giddy. Could the strange woman with the rain from our doorstep, in fact, be taken by my dear friend key, the same way he is taken by her?
Love is the only real magic that exists.
"Thank you, you certainly didn't have to do that." Key said in a surprised, but delighted tone. He took a sip from the cup and smiled. He approves.
"It's my pleasure, Key." Margo replied.
She sat on the edge of the bed closest to key and put her hand out on the armchair.
Oh she definitely wants to fuck my good friend.