Chapter 8 Would Like to Meet You When the Lights Go Off
Would Like to Meet You When the Lights Go Off
Paisley
Aria’s bed is crying out for me. I can hear it all the way out here on Aspen’s streets. And my legs are calling back. The way they need each other is almost like a back-and-forth. But when Gwen dropped me off in front of the B nevertheless, it’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. There’s magic in the air.
A lengthy snort interrupts my astonished state. It comes from the other side of the street, not far from Kate’s Diner. And when I discover the source of the sound, despite the bitter cold, a warm feeling spreads through my heart.
A brown-spotted Irish Cob with a blond mane is looking over at me.
The horse is wearing a brown leather halter and a harness attached to a white carriage.
It has two upholstered seats beneath its canopy and the wheels are huge; the ones in back are bigger than the front.
It must be historical. I have a slight feeling of having been transported back to the nineteenth century.
I tug on my cap and cross the street. Reaching the horse, I carefully stretch out my hand and allow it to be sniffed.
“Well? What’s your name then?” I delicately stroke the bridge of its nose down to its soft nostrils.
It neighs again before opening its lips and nibbling at my gloves.
“That doesn’t taste any good. In a second you’ll have a mouthful of cotton. ”
“Oh no!” I suddenly hear someone calling out behind me. “Step back, quick!”
I turn around and as I see the stocky older man hurrying over to me, his bushy eyebrows covering half of his forehead, it becomes clear that he’s referring to me.
He’s wearing a vest over his checkered shirt.
When he comes to a stop in front of me, he gasps for breath.
His lungs are whistling. “Get away from Sally,” he snorts, reaches out, and pushes me two steps back. “She’s on a low-carb diet.”
“Low-carb?”
The man nods. “I was a little too kind with her food. Now Sally weighs a few pounds too many, and I’ve got to put her on a diet. But since having reduced her food, she wants to eat anything that doesn’t look like a carrot.”
I stare at the man. “You mean, Sally wants to eat me?”
He nods again. His expression is completely serious. “That’s exactly right.”
I don’t know what I should say. My eyes move from him to the horse—which is just standing there calmly, watching us—and back again. The guy probably doesn’t have all his marbles anymore. Or, well, none at all.
“Well, I mean… I’m still here, right? If I was as interesting to your horse as you believe, she would’ve pounced on me a long time ago.”
My odd companion pulls a thoughtful face and strokes his stubble while observing his horse and me intensively. Eventually he nods, as if having come to a decision. “It’s got to do with you. You’re too skinny. There’s not enough there for Sally.”
Got it. They’re all gone.
“If that’s the case, then I can consider myself lucky,” I say, reaching my hand back out and letting Sally start nibbling on my glove again.
The man looks at me suspiciously. “Tourists don’t come downtown that much. Normally they stick to the slopes and their resorts. Or in the boutiques.”
I don’t answer right away. My attention has shifted to a group of people walking into Kate’s Diner just a few feet away. It primarily consists of loud women, laughing, whose faces mean nothing to me. But I recognize the guys: Wyatt and Knox.
I quickly turn away and concentrate on the old man. “I’m not a tourist.”
He appears to consider that for a second. His wild dark brows contract and form one single dark line. But then a knowing look flits across his face and the McDonald’s brow separates again. “You must be Paisley. The new resident.”
I blink. “How do you know that?”
My question seems to anger him. He puffs up his chest, stretching his tight vest. “I am William Gifford! I know everything that takes place in Aspen!”
“Oh, umm… I didn’t know.”
“I run the town’s social media account,” he explains.
“Aspen’s got a social media account?” I ask, surprised.
“Of course! But it’s got a secret name, so the tourists don’t follow us.
It’s meant for locals only, so that everyone stays up to date.
News, breaking news, upcoming fairs and to-do lists…
primarily, organizational things. Every two weeks we discuss the most important things in our townhall meeting.
Well, just between you and me…the name is @Apsen.
I switched the p and the s, you see.” He grins as if incredibly proud of himself.
“Shall we go inside? Otherwise I’m afraid I’ll get hypothermia. ”
“Umm.” I look around. “Go inside?”
William nods and waves me to come along.
“Into my shop. I run the Old-Timer. A store with a vintage movie theater in the back. Naturally, we show popular movies, too, but Wednesdays are retro nights. That’s when we only show old movies.
” We reach the narrow door that I’d never noticed before.
“We’ve got old-school records, too, if music from the old days is your thing. ”
“Totally,” I say as my eyes wander over the window next to the door.
Red velvet curtains hanging, and the windowsill is decorated with a few vintage objects.
Next to the old tube TV there’s a record player on a frog-green velvet cushion of a wooden chair.
The upper window frames are decorated with a series of dangling metal cups, some of which have been painted white and adorned with flowers.
“You must have all kinds of things to do.”
William opens the door. “Find what makes you happy and lose yourself within it. That’s my motto. And for me, this town is what makes me happy.”
I walk behind him into the shop/movie theater and my eyes grow wide.
Like Ruth’s B on one of them is sitting a couple.
The place grows even more appealing when I notice the many shelves, buckling under the weight of all the books and records.
Whatever remaining space there is on the wood-paneled walls is taken up by pictures. A lot of them are of various flowery meadows, a few of them with happy-looking women in blousy clothes. Every centimeter of the floor has been covered by oriental rugs of all colors and designs.
“Stop.” William stretches his hand out toward me as I move to take another step. He points to my boots, the bottoms of which are covered in clumps of gray snow. “You’ll take those off in here.”
Indeed, he is already slipping out of his own and places them next to a pair of UGG boots and warm fur-lined winter boots that have to belong to the couple on the couch.
I don’t really want to pull off my own boots as there are two big holes in my socks—one of them right on my big toe.
Nevertheless, I follow William’s instructions, slip out of my boots, and then continue my tour.
There is an incredible amount of vintage things to discover, the whole place is stuffed to the ceiling.
But somehow, it doesn’t feel cluttered. On the contrary.
It’s as if every piece of furniture, every little piece of decoration, was in the right place.
“I love it here,” I gasp. My steps take me to a shelf that is filled with records. I look at one after the other, surprised that I recognize a few of the titles. I’ve always liked the music and movies of the older generations. As soon as I pull a record off the shelf, I hear a voice next to me.
“Simon and Garfunkel. Good choice.”
I don’t need to turn around to know that it’s Knox. Nevertheless, I tilt my head and give him a quick smile. My anger with his behavior on the slope has disappeared. After what happened this morning by the lake, it’s as if I know him better. Even though I have no idea who he really is.
“You’re a seventies fan?” As discreetly as possible with my left foot I pull the tip of my right sock over the end of my toe in order to hide the big hole.
“I’m a fan of good music. Whatever decade.” He leans against the shelf and crosses his arms. He’s opened his jacket, underneath it I recognize the iconic Abercrombie & Fitch moose on his winter sweater. “What are you doing here?”
I slide the record back onto the shelf. “Shouldn’t I be asking you?” I nod toward the door. “You were just in the diner with your friends.”
Knox laughs. “You’re stalking me!”
“Not a chance,” I reply. “Outside there was a horse that wanted to eat me.”
“Oh!” Knox’s expression becomes sympathetic. “Is Sally back on a low-carb diet?”
“Yeah. But there’s no meat on these bones. That’s why I survived.”
“What luck.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Normally she’s a real beast. Tyrannosaurus rex. Swallows you in one go.”
“She really did look pretty scary.”
He laughs. “I’m here to save you from William.”
I look toward the old man who is standing behind a varnished counter with slender wooden legs, inspecting the popcorn machine. He taps the glass with a finger, before closing an eye and squinting inside, then tapping the glass once more.
“A bit strange, isn’t he?”
Knox leans forward. “A bit. In Aspen everyone is smart enough not to disagree with him. He’s taken care of the town for what feels like an eternity.
He may be a bit kooky, but he simply belongs here.
” Knox grins as he casts a glance at William, who is now inspecting a piece of popcorn between his index finger and thumb. “I can’t imagine Aspen without him.”
At that moment, William looks up. His eyes alight on Knox’s jacket over the chair. “Hey!” he calls out. William puts the popcorn down on the counter and puts his hands on his hips. “There’s no hanging out here, Knox! Whoever isn’t shopping has to pay for a ticket to the next film.”
Knox heaves a long sigh but looks amused. Eventually he looks at me. “Do we want to stay?”
We?
“Umm.” I feel overwhelmed. Not because I don’t know whether I want to stay here to watch a movie or not.
I’d already made up my mind about that after taking one step in the place.
No, what’s overwhelmed me is the thought of sitting in a movie theater next to Knox, the star snowboarder. For one and a half hours at least.
“When you say ‘umm’ you mean ‘yeah.’” Knox seems strangely content as he strides over to William and buys us two tickets. I follow behind him because I don’t want to just stand around looking lost.
“One large popcorn with butter,” Knox is saying as I reach his side. Then he looks at me questioningly. “Would you like a cheese sandwich as well?”
“A cheese sandwich?” Not that I’m picky, but…that’s not exactly the snack I associate with movie theaters.
William opens a small blue retro fridge behind him and points inside. All the shelves have been carefully filled with sandwiches, one after the other. “I’ve got the best in town.”
My befuddled glance wanders to Knox, who nods in agreement. “Sometimes I come over after training, just to have a few.”
I decide not to ask any further. “No, thank you. I don’t like cheese.”
Knox’s eyes almost spring out of his head. “You don’t like cheese? Who on earth doesn’t like cheese?”
With a timid smile I raise my hand. “Me.”
“I could take the cheese off for you,” William suggests.
And then I’d have…a bread sandwich?
“No, no, it’s fine,” I say, but give William a thankful smile. “The popcorn’s enough.”
We make our way to the theater and sit down on one of the sofas. He drapes an array of sandwiches across his lap. I place the bucket of popcorn as a protective wall between us and grip my iced tea.
“Won’t your friends wonder where you are?”
“Nah.” He devours half a sandwich in just one bite. “It’s not abnormal for me to just disappear all of a sudden.”
“Ah ha.” I decide not to pursue it any further. I’ve learned enough about Knox to know that he is clearly…not all that easy. “Oh, cool! I love this movie!” I whisper the very next moment, in ecstasy.
Knox smirks, recognizing the credits. “Signs? You can’t be serious. Isn’t this the one where at some point the actors make aluminum helmets to protect themselves from those things out in the corn?”
“They’re aliens, not things! And with the aluminum they can protect themselves from their rays.”
“I would bet this whole beautiful plate of cheese sandwiches that you ran around with one of those hats after seeing this movie.”
I laugh so hard that I almost swallow my popcorn. “I was eight and really superstitious!”
“I knew it.”
After that, we’re quiet for a long time as we watch the film.
Around halfway through, he’s finished all his sandwiches, which is why he lets his hand disappear in the popcorn and shovels one handful after the other into his mouth.
Back in Minneapolis, I’d seen enough tearjerkers with Kaya to know that, from now on, I shouldn’t reach for any popcorn if I don’t want our hands to touch accidentally.
Knox’s phone vibrates in his pocket, He directs another handful of popcorn to his mouth, wipes his buttery fingers on a napkin, and looks at the display.
I see Wyatt’s name. Knox doesn’t answer and shoots me an apologetic glance.
“So, nameless creature with a love for aluminum helmets. I’ve got to go.
Maybe at some point you can tell me how it ends.
” He grins. “I want to know whether they get devoured despite their helmets.”
“Aliens don’t devour,” I reply.
“True. Just Sally. Right, see you later.”
“See you. Thanks for the ticket. And the popcorn. And, umm, the iced tea.”
“If you keep on thanking me like that, I’m going to get another halo.” Knox stands. “And I really don’t deserve that. Believe me.”
Oh, Knox. You have no idea how much I believe you.