- Or The Wonderful Freedom Of Delivering Pizzas
Ants. Yes, that was what they reminded her of. She looked out her bay window, watching people rushing past on cramped streets. The evening sun touched the roofs of the city with soft fingertips, illuminating everything in a golden halo. It was her favorite moment of the day. But the tiny figures downstairs didn’t see it. They were busy hurrying towards a home they didn’t want to get back to or cheating their partners or simply fleeing their dreams.
The basics were the same every day. The polluting cars and busses, their horns blaring because of one lost second at a traffic light. Stressed men ran along, fashionable women dragged their equally fashionable kids, or even smarter ones were dragging their tiny dogs behind them in such a way that she was almost thankful they’d gone for a dog and not a child. Others had a phone plastered to the ear, or had one of those tiny things dangling near their chin, where you had to take a good look to figure out whether the person was actually speaking to someone on the other end or just talking crazy. Most of them stared straight ahead, unsmiling, not sparing a glance for those who had nothing and lived on the cold pavement. The only ones really looking and seeing and enjoying the city through their camera lenses were probably the tourists.
With a sad sigh she kept her eyes open for her favorite but rare glimpses at happiness, when a couple might stop dead and kiss in the middle of the crowd, carefree behind rose-colored glasses. All the while she was looking forward to her glass of red wine that would go nicely with a slice of the pizza that would soon be delivered and a chapter or two of the new book she recently bought online. She liked the Internet, and was grateful that it made it possible for her to work at home. With nothing but an invisible screen between them, she could mentor her students and see them thrive as if she was right there, at their side.
She tensed at the thought. Was she the same as those downstairs? Did she live locked up and separated from the world as they were? Yes, she realized with a sinking heart. Then though she worked with her students, there was a screen between them. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had gone out, or really talked to someone, not just on the phone, but in a real face-to-face conversation. A conversation where she had truly spoken to someone, without running through the typical phrases, that sprang automatically to mind. Standing, she started pacing the room, wondering at how the hell she had gotten so closed in. Modern technology was just part of the problem; simple laziness and even selfishness were the root of it. It was so much easier to just buy a book online than to actually go into a store and go through the trouble or risk of human contact, of chatting a minute or two with a salesperson.
The doorbell rang and she turned around. Right on time, as always. She opened the door, and there he was, with her pizza in his hands and a smile on his lips. The man had practically fed her for the last few weeks – and she hadn’t been able to say more to him than the usual “Hi and bye”. With regret and shame shaking her awake to a harsh, cold reality she even remembered a time or two where she hadn’t said a thing at all to him.
“Hi. One Regina, right?” When she just stood there, not moving, he asked, “Is everything alright?”
She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and then nodded, “Yeah. Yes. I was just…” She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time; which she had to admit, was very close to the truth. He was handsome, and funny and nice and once she had seen him from her window giving his last cigarette to a tramp. Patrick, that was his name. The first times he had come by, he had tried to flirt with her, but she hadn’t reacted to it. An unnecessary cold brush off, she now realized. She took the leap, “Are you free tonight?”
He seemed startled. “I have to work till ten.”
“Oh, of course.” Feeling foolish and embarrassed she only wanted to grab the box in his hands.
Smiling, he sought her eyes and added, “But I could come by tomorrow.”
Trying to hide the grin that tugged at her lips and to regulate her breathing again, she asked, “Would it be weird to ask whether I could come with you, now I mean?”
“You want to deliver pizzas with me?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. I want to go out, knock on other people’s doors, look them in the eyes and deliver them their pizza.”
“You seem full of surprises tonight. Okay then, but you won’t have enough time to eat this one.”
He held up her pizza, and she took it. “That’s alright.” She turned and with hands trembling from excitement she snatched her purse from the dresser in a swift movement that had her cell flying out of it. The phone landed with a crash, and when she picked it up the display was cracked. With a shrug she put it back on the dresser, and went out, feeling strangely liberated.
Outside, she looked the street up and down, and when she found what she’d been looking for she told him, “Give me just a second.” She walked towards a hunched figure, sitting in the dark, “Hello, what’s your name?”
The man looked up, wary, “Travis, ma’am. Why? Do I bother you? If so, there’s no need to call the police, I’ll go.”
When he started to rise, she touched his shoulder, “No, not at all. That’s not why I’m here.” She held out the pizza, “Here, this is for you, Travis. Enjoy.”
Blinking, as if he didn’t trust his eyes, the man looked from the pizza box and up to her and back again. Startled he took it, and when she turned around, the man called out with a voice hoarse from lack of using, “Thank you, ma’am. Thank you very much.”
When she joined Patrick who was already sitting on his moped, he motioned towards the tramp, “It seems you already delivered your first pizza tonight.”
“I did, and it feels great.” Taking a deep breath of the freshening evening air she got on the bike behind Patrick. She put her arms around him, and relished his warmth flooding through her.
***