Part 3: New York City
Jesus wakes on a sidewalk; John warns Leroy got him fired; Jesus loses his job; Andrea packs and leaves him for Leroy.
Something disturbed Jesus from his rest. A nudge on his side.
“Get up, son,” A voice said.
It nudged him again.
“Get up.”
Jesus opened eyes. There were a pair of shiny black boots resting sideways on the concrete sidewalk. No, they weren’t sideways. He was. He turned and looked up to find a police officer standing over him.
“Drank a little bit too much last night, son?”
“Uh … Yes, yes sir,” He murmured, collecting himself to his knees.
“How about you stay off the side walk next time,” The officer said.
“Yes, of course, sir,” Jesus managed to get out as he forced himself to his knees. All the horrible events of the night before that had led to him being asleep on a sidewalk flooded back to him at once like the opening of a dam. He reeled at the revelation. Jesus found his balance and looked around, trying to figure out where he was.
“Excuse me, how can I get to Highland and Charles?” Jesus asked the officer.
“What do I look like, a fuckin’ atlas?” The officer said, then got in his car and drove off.
Jesus shrugged and started walking in what he thought was the right direction. Eventually he hailed a passing cab. The driver, a ragged looking Italian in his late thirties had a pair of dice hanging from the rear view mirror and a Yankees hat.
“You know Brooklyn?” Jesus asked.
“Born and raised,” The cabbie said.
“You know Alverez’s?”
“Yeah, I know the spot”
“Take me there.”
Later, when Jesus got home, Andrea was in the living room smoking a joint.
“No work tonight?” He asked.
“What does it matter to you?”
“I’m just wondering since you’re smoking.”
“No, I got the night off.”
She took another drag and exhaled. Jesus waited in front of the door for her to say something.
She acted ambivalent to his concerns.
“You’re not going to ask where I’ve been?” He said. The clock read 10:55am.
“I figured you were with John or one of your friends,” She said.
John, that’s who I need to talk to.
“Who can you trust?” Asked Winston.
“You just gonna stand there all day?” She said, “You’re letting in all the cold air.”
“No, I’m gonna take a shower,” He replied.
“What?” She said.
“I’m going to take a shower,” Jesus said.
“Right,” She said, sitting back a bit into her seat. “You’re going off the deep end, Jesus.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular fuckin’ quack,” said the cab driver.
“I know,” He said, and took a shower.
Maybe I dreamed up the whole thing. Can’t even trust myself anymore.
John picked up the phone on the fifth ring.
“Hello?”
“John, it’s Jesus,” He said from the kitchen of the apartment. He tried to keep his voice down so Andrea couldn’t hear from the bedroom.
“Just the man I had been meaning to talk to. How are you feeling? You were pretty wasted last night.”
“I feel like shit. I don’t know what to do, John. I don’t know anymore,” Jesus admitted.
“Listen, I need to talk to you about something. I think Leroy has it out for you. He talked to me last night and told me that he put in a word to get you fired from your job. Look, I know people say a lot, but I don’t think this is a joke. I think you should do something about it.”
“What should I do?”
“You have to show him that you’re a man.”
“There’s something else,” Jesus said.
“What? Is Andrea fired too?”
“No, no … It’s nothing like that. It’s just,” Jesus swallowed hard, “I just have a terrible headache from last night.”
“Make sure you drink some water, buddy. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you,” John said. He turned over the bottle of Ruphenol in his hand, reading the instructions absentmindedly as he spoke to Jesus on the phone, “Try not to drink like that again. I almost thought I was gonna have to carry you home. How did you get home?”
“I-” Jesus faltered, his voice cracking, “I called a cab.”
“Well listen,” John said, “I gotta run, but if you wanna talk, I’m going to be at The Rooster tomorrow. Leroy said he was coming by Tuesday. If you want to talk to him, that’s your chance.”
“Alright, we’ll see,” Jesus said.
“Remember, whatever happens, I got you. Gotta go, kid,” There was a click, and then the dial tone.
Who can I trust?
For the first time, Jesus let himself weep. He cried softly into his own arms, careful not to sob loud enough to alert Andrea. He wanted to suffer in solitude. No one could know his pain, least of all, her.
Who can I trust?
Monday was the day when it all fell apart. Jesus arrived at the office at 8am to find that his desk had been taken over by the much more qualified, and much more American Richard Baxter. He hadn’t even been afforded the dignity of being able to pack his own things. All his possessions, his typewriter, his pens and business cards, even the little photo he kept of Andrea and him at a rally, was discarded chaotically and unceremoniously in a small cardboard box beside what now was Mr. Baxter’s desk.
“Sorry about that, friend. If it was my choice, I would have kept you on. You were an inspiration — really,” He said from behind thick rimmed, square glasses. Those stupid, pretentious glasses. Jesus glared at him with unrestrained contempt.
“Jesus!” Chris called, “Come into my office.”
The other employees acted like he didn’t even exist. Jesus hypothesized that if he had tried to talk to them, they would have a sudden case of amnesia. Shun the outcast, shame him.
Don’t you know who I am? Jesus thought. Don’t you know that I’m the one that belongs here.
Now, everyone was staring at him.
Did I just say that out loud?
“For God’s sake, Jesus, take your stuff and come to my office.”
A step later Jesus had his cardboard box in his lap as he sat in the same office where he had been hired only months prior. The walls seemed to loom high, making Jesus feel small. There was some kind of optical illusion.
“I regret to inform you that due to unresolvable conflicts, the company has decided to move on without you. We will be mailing your last paycheck to your apartment listed on file.”
“Actually, there’s a new apartment,” Chris frowned disapprovingly.
Somehow, with just his eyebrows, he managed to convey, “You should be ashamed of moving apartments,” Jesus felt very small.
A piece of paper, a pen, and two city busses later, Jesus was back at his own apartment. Time flowed freely around him, apart from him.
“What are you doing?” He said. His living room was full of boxes. Andrea’s clothes, makeup, even her records and photos were in the process of being packed up and moved out.
“Isn’t it obvious?” She said, not at all acting like she had been off guard, “I’m moving out.”
“Why?”
“Why are you home so early?” She asked.
“I was fired today,” He said.
She rolled her eyes, “Typical.”
“You never answered my question,” He said.
“What question,” She said it flatly, with contempt. The whole time, she had not stopped packing her boxes.
“Why are you leaving?” He asked.
“Ugh, you are so predictable,” She said again.
“Just answer the question!” Jesus said, finally getting angry and raising his voice.
“Because you’re a loser! You’re not hip, nobody likes you, and you’ll never be half the man someone like Leroy will be. You wanna know the truth? I’ll tell you the truth! I’m going to live with Leroy. I’m doing it, and you can’t stop me.”
“Andrea, please, no, I’ll do anything. I love you.”
“Save your breath,” She said, “Besides, I know about those little side-flings you had going on.
You think I wasn’t paying attention every time you went to a, ‘rally,’ or a, ‘march,’ without me? Please,”
She said.
“You know, you actually had me fooled,” She said, “I actually thought, ‘No, my baby would never cheat on me. My baby would never leave me.”’ She laughed. “Bullshit. Bullshit! All of it You had me fooled. You did it before, but not anymore. Not anymore, Leroy turned me on to all of your bullshit,” She was packing two handbags, getting ready to leave.
“Wait- Andrea! I never cheated on you. I was always loyal to you. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Please believe me,” Jesus pleaded.
“Please believe me. I have no idea what I’m talking about,” She mocked in a high-pitched voice.
“Bullshit!” She said “All of it is bullshit. New York, you, this apartment, your stupid marches. I have you all figured out thanks to Leroy,” Andrea said. She was closing her bags.
“Andrea, listen to yourself! You’re not making sense. Why would I cheat on you?”
“I’ve had enough of your lies,” She said coldly, and pushed past him to the door. Jesus rushed after her down the stairs.
“Andrea, please wait. I’m sorry! We can fix this,” He yelled. Jesus didn’t care if the neighbors could all hear him. He didn’t care if the whole world could hear him. This was all he had.
“Oh, now you say I’m sorry?” Another flight of stairs, “Well it’s too late now.”
They were on the street outside of their apartment. Andrea was trying to hail a taxi with both hands full of luggage. Jesus rushed after her, pleading her to stay. Passersby stared. Jesus could feel their comments, but he didn’t care. This was all that mattered.
“Wait, don’t go!” But she was already closing the door of the taxi.
“Jesus, don’t try and contact me. You can have that shit I left at your apartment. Maybe one of those whores you fuck with will wear it.” She said.