Right Now Or Never Again

Chapter 2-2

Within the next few days, Eeli had lots of time to mull over his decision. Nothing he had said to Patrik was exactly a lie. Or maybe the sleeping part. The first few nights certainly took care of his high-rise virginity, when he was woken up by music or loud conversations. A drunken couple with much to say to each other lived on the next floor. After half an hour he thought about calling the police, but the woman’s tone made him think about Moona.

When the same thing happened the second night, and then the night after that, he was starting to sense a continuous theme. He wondered again why on earth he hadn’t used the day to buy any earplugs. Was he punishing himself for some reason? Or did he really suppose that if he only waited long enough, those night crawlers would change their ways and embrace the circadian rhythm of working people?

See, that’s what sugar-ass middle class thinking does to you. No beauty sleep. At least he had been right, there were no burning cars. But there were tons of ugly graffiti, which would make Patrik unhappy. And of course Eeli didn’t tell him about the carport, and that guy who looked like a dealer on call, behind it. He wasn’t afraid of Patrik’s inescapable I told you so eye rolling. What he was really scared of was his friend’s pity.

One could see groups of tough-looking young men on the streets. They were usually sleeping during the day, or if they were up, they spent most of their time at the mall. Like hyenas, those guys hunt only in packs, and after sunset. A wounded gazelle called Eeli should go to the grocery store before that.

He clutched his shopping bag and slipped in the elevator. He had spent another morning at the City Library. One of the ads in the newspaper had been passable, and he had been outlining his application. He had been reading up on the company, to send an application. Thinking about the job he was after made him feel anxious, for some reason. For a moment it felt like he was going to have one of those panic attacks, which had been his constant companions when he was younger.

He concentrated on breathing steadily and scanned the walls. They were full of smudges and tags. The air stank of urine, as if the hyenas living in the building weren’t using only ink and paint to mark their territory. The elevator had been out of service on his great moving day, so it had indeed been fortunate most of his possessions fit inside two big carryalls.

The elevator stopped, and Eeli panicked a little as he realized the door was stuck. He pushed, and gradually the door parted. The elevator hadn’t stopped between the floors. It was as if something was keeping the door from opening, from outside. The gap grew wider, and Eeli saw it wasn’t something, but somebody who was lying in the corridor in front of the door.

Eeli got out, but then his feet stuck to the scuffed linoleum. He was a kid again, and coming home from school, when suddenly he saw a squirrel, smashed by a car. He know he should continue walking, but he was standing there, staring at the sight. Shouldn’t he have a stick, too? Hopefully not.

The man-squirrel looked more like one of those hyena guys. His black beanie was pulled low over his head, probably because his style guide required close-shaved hair, and it would be chilly outside. There could be a classic swastika tattoo to go with the theme. His sturdy army boots looked as if they had been made for kicking people in the nuts.

Something was off from that scene, though. There were no camo trousers or pilot jacket with a flag on its upper arm. Actually, the guy had an ordinary looking dark blue winter coat, which seemed far too thick for mild autumn weather.

Eeli didn’t want to check if the guy was wearing long johns under his jeans, but that would be an indicator of how much time this guy spent outdoors. Maybe he was between apartments. He couldn’t get to the shelter because he was intoxicated, but not addled enough to earn him a place in a drunk tank. He was in the building because he had sneaked inside while some resident had gone through the front door.

The guy’s right foot jerked, and Eeli was startled from his musings. He made a panicky leap over the guy and hurried down the corridor. His apartment door was only two doors down from the elevator, but suddenly the trip felt like a marathon. His hand shook as he aimed the key into the lock. He got the door open and risked a fast look over his shoulder. The guy lay on the same place in front of the elevator, he hadn’t changed his position. Feeling embarrassed and shaky, Eeli closed his door.

He retreated to the kitchen. Trying not to think about the hyena guy, who was lying on the corridor as if waiting for prey, Eeli went to the fridge and took out a container full of cabbage soup. He had made it yesterday. It was silly how a working microwave had been a nice surprise, and felt like luxury beside the apartment’s old fridge and filthy stove. He ate his soup while leaning against the sink, and then he sat on his sleeping bag, taking his computer out. It was as if he were a student again, in an apartment with little or no furniture, nothing but his clothes hanging on the coat rack in the foyer.

Eeli searched until he found the company’s pages. He opened his mail and tried to work, but it was hard to concentrate. The apartment indeed felt empty. Suddenly the ceiling and the walls seemed too close for comfort. He wondered if Patrik had been right. This was a setup which demoralized a person to the point of drinking himself to oblivion. He listened to the noises around him. There was the constant hum of traffic, and above that a strong-willed child arguing with her mother, and occasional blasts from a video game or a television. But the loudest sound was the silence from the corridor.

Eeli fiddled with his sleeping bag. It wasn’t his old one, but the last time he had used it was when he and Moona had made a camping trip, a year ago. They had driven to the north, to Lapland. He had wanted to see fall colors again, like he did with his family as a kid. He and Moona roasted salmon on a fire after pulling the fish from a stream, and he saw the northern lights, but overall the trip had been miserable.

It had been his fault, for the most part. Moona had warned him she wasn’t Girl Scout material. He should have listened to her and planned the trip differently.

But you don’t listen, Moona had shouted. He had accused her of ruining his good memories by her bitching and moaning. I told you, but you never listen. You just do as you please.

No he didn’t, he thought, and stood up from the floor. He wasn’t always selfish and looking only for his own gratification. He marched to the door and bent over to look into the peephole. He could take other people into consideration. He could do that even for strangers.

Of course he couldn’t see anything more than the opposite wall. He contemplated opening the door and taking a fast look around. What if he had been as wrong as he had been with Moona’s camping skills, and the hyena guy wasn’t drunk or high? What if he had diabetes? The guy could be dying while Eeli was acting overly cautious on the other side of the door. And even if he was drunk, he still could have had a heart attack. Or if he had meanwhile rolled himself over onto his back and then puked, he could be suffocating right this moment.

Oh my God, he thought. Maybe the guy had overdosed. Eeli should call the police or an ambulance. This time he really should. But if the guy had already left or could be woken by light shaking, Eeli would feel like a complete fool. And maybe the response officers wouldn’t be so keen to take his call next time. Of course then he would have a real, life-threatening emergency.

“Hey!”

Nothing. The guy was alive, though. Eeli saw his chest moving. He didn’t smell of booze. A narc then.

He started to probe with his broomstick. Eeli wasn’t some ninja, so if the guy decided to jump on him, the stick would serve only as meager protection. He touched a thigh first and got no response. A squirrel, he thought. Smashed by a car. Eeli felt a bit ashamed, but he proceeded further up the body. He was ready to lose the broom and actually touch the guy when a hand grabbed the stick.

Eeli’s initial reaction was to back off. When the guy didn’t try to pull him forward, Eeli stood his ground. They were now posing like models for some weird statue. Eeli considered shortly how they would look if somebody were to come to the corridor.

“When I was in the elementary school,” the narc said. “We got this traffic competition.”

“What?” Eeli hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“About the traffic competition. I just said. Please, pay attention…There were many tests and puzzles, but almost everybody missed one of them ‘cause it didn’t look like proper school work. There was this man and his bicycle lying in a ditch. He looked shabby and quite scary, like those loud gentlemen in the parks. He seemed to be asleep, but everything else told us he was drunk and passed out. Later we got to know he was acting and actually a husband of one of our teachers. But that was not my point. In the end there was only one boy brave enough to ask that hobo if he was okay. One from almost forty pupils. That boy got a gold medal and the first prize even if all his other tests weren’t hundred percent.”

“That was you? That boy?”

The guy shook his head slowly. “I was hoping it would be you. You’re new in this place. My name is Leo.”

Leo let go of the broom. Eeli took one step back. “I’m Eeli. What’s wrong?”

“That was nice. You sound like one of those help lines…Well, Eeli. I was climbing up the stairs. Then I was flat on my butt. And yes, I realize now that overdoing myself after chemo wasn’t exactly a good idea.”

Eeli hazarded a first direct look and realized the man had dark circles under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for a week. What had he said about…?

Chemo. Like in chemotherapy?

“Oh, that look,” Leo leered. “It’s always priceless. I should have my phone, take one for my collection. This one would be called: Oh my God, he has the big C and I poked him like road kill.”

That was too accurate for Eeli’s taste. Otherwise, he was starting to feel more annoyed than confused. He didn’t appreciate people who acted foolishly and put themselves at unnecessary risk.

“Yes,” he admitted. “Not your brightest moment. You are awfully mouthy for a guy in obvious need of help. Why didn’t you take the elevator? It’s working again.”

Leo looked surprised by Eeli’s questions. He gave Eeli a searching look and probably liked what he saw, because his lips turned into a muted smile. “No weepy eyes or pitying words. Just chagrined. That is new.”

Before Eeli was able to protest, Leo continued: “That is good. Or not so good, if you are a total sociopath. We’ll see about that…Would you help me up now, please.”

“It depends. Tell me where you live, and I’ll think about whether you need an ambulance.”

Leo opened his mouth to argue. Then he thought better of it. He looked sheepish as he pointed his finger to the ceiling. “One floor up.”

Eeli reached out. When he got Leo upright, Eeli noticed they were about the same height. Leo probably didn’t weigh more than Eeli himself, he wasn’t heavy-built or anything, only shaky-legged.

They managed to stagger into the elevator. Leo leaned against the wall. Eeli kept himself right beside him in case his ward started sliding down again.

Fortunately, Leo’s apartment was nearest to the elevator. It was on the same side of the corridor as Eeli’s, but in the wrong direction for Leo to be one half of the drunken, arguing couple which sometimes kept Eeli awake at nights. Maybe he was the Moaning Guy. He seemed frivolous enough to entertain an occasional dame, even in his condition. Or maybe because of it.

And now Eeli was thinking about the s*x life of some stranger while squeezing the guy’s ribs with his arm. Awesome. Eeli did see the irony as they stumbled over the threshold.

The apartment was a studio, its ground plan a carbon copy of his own place, down to the ugly-colored tiles above the tub.