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Questions

Nancy Lee Bethea
Copyright 2011

    “Will you show me your new tattoo?” Claude asked Marissa.
    “I will for some ice cream,” Marissa said pushing her long blonde hair over her shoulders with both of her hands. She sat cross-legged on a red bar stool in Claude’s apartment.
    “Let’s see. I have butter pecan, chocolate almond and vanilla,” Claude stacked cold rectangles of ice cream on the counter. “What will it be?”
    “Mint chocolate chip. Two scoops in a sugar cone, please. Then, you can see my new tattoo.”
    “Guess I won’t get a peek then.” Claude put the ice cream cartons back into the freezer. “Your turn.”
    Marissa picked up a blue ball point pen on top of a yellow pad of paper. She doodled a star with tendrils emerging from each point. “What do you fear most?” she asked as she drew a smaller star.
    Claude opened a cabinet above the dishwasher and took out two glasses. He filled one with water from the tap and took three sips of water. Marissa drew more stars.
    “Growing old alone.” Claude put one glass down. He walked to the ice maker built into the refrigerator and pressed the second glass into the white semi-circle there. The machine growled, then ice clanked in the glass. He opened the refrigerator and took out a pitcher. Lemon slices moved toward the bottom as he poured clear liquid over the ice. “Here,” he said handing Marissa the cold drink. “It’s fresh lemonade.”
    “Thanks.” Marissa drank a few sips.
    “I never knew I’d be this successful,” Claude gazed out a large window overlooking the river, “and it’s nice. I’m grateful, but I realize now it’s not enough.”
    Marissa drew more stars.
    Claude took another sip of water and said, “My turn again, right?”
    “Last one.” Marissa stopped doodling for a moment and looked at her watch. “I have to go soon.”
    Claude rinsed her glass and left it in the kitchen sink. “How would you spend a free afternoon – no obligations, no schedule – just a block of time?”
    Marissa’s eyes met Claude’s. “Good question,” she paused and put the cap back on the blue ballpoint pen. “I might ride the subway and watch people, or I might crash someone’s wedding downtown, or I might take tuba lessons,” she laughed and stood. Marissa flipped her hair again as she rested her leather purse strap on her left shoulder. “Thanks for the lemonade, Claude,” Marissa smiled as she walked toward the front door.
    “Can I call you some time?” Claude asked as he followed her to the door. “You never know, I might have more questions.”
    “Can I get back to you on that?” Marissa said. “I think I’ll go get some mint chocolate chip ice cream right now.” She walked out the door and down the hall.
    Claude shut his apartment door. As he walked to his bedroom, he saw Marissa’s sketches on the yellow paper. Below the last row of stars, Claude saw seven numbers followed by a question mark.

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