“Maybe that’s what we should do then. Take a little break. A walk actually sounds like a nice idea. After all that progress, we deserve one.”
“So much progress despite all the fucking,” he joked.
“That was justrecharging our energy.” I chuckled as I got up. “Come on, let’s get dressed.” I had spent so many years away; it would be interesting to see some of the downtown places I used to frequent before they closed. Now, with the diner newly renovated, I wondered what else might have changed. “I’d love to go downtown, if that’s okay with you.”
“Aren’t you worried someone might see us again?”
“No? We just have to keep our hands to ourselves. And if we run into anyone, I’ll tell them what I told my parents—that I’m here to study. No one can deny me a break.”
“That... sounds reasonable.” Alex slapped his hands on his thighs. “Okay. Let’s go for a walk. There’s a place downtown I like to go to recharge sometimes. If you want, I’ll show it to you.” He winked at me and reached for his pants, which were still lying on the floor by the door from when he’d tossed them there two days ago.
When I lived here,I would go downtown every now and then. It was only about a twenty-minute walk down the hill if you knew all the shortcuts through people’s backyards.
We didn’t hold hands or anything as we climbed through bushes and cut across yards. We didn’t even talk much. But we stole glances that made me smile so hard I had to rein it in whenever someone drove past or noticed us walking by.
Eventually, we reached the old town hall, the only building whose doors and windows weren’t boarded up. Downtown had never been big—just two streets with ten to fifteen stores each. But seeing all of them empty and abandoned like this twisted my gut more than I expected. It was a sunny day, warm enough to beout in just a shirt, and fifteen years ago, this place would’ve been full of people.
“I still remember when everyone came here after work,” I said as we strolled down the sidewalk. “Not even to shop, just to meet friends or get some ice cream.”
At least the trees planted along the sidewalk weren’t dead. All of them had grown leaves, the green a perfect contrast to the blue sky.
“So, this is where I wanted to take you,” Alex said.
We stopped in front of an old bar that my family and I used to frequent years ago. The sign above the entrance was gone, and the windows were covered with faded newspapers. Alex scanned the street before pointing to a small passageway on the left side of the building. He led me between two brick walls toward the back.
Hidden behind the building was a paved area with four tables covered in a decade’s worth of dirt and a few metal chairs chained together. Moss covered the walls, growing wild and rampant.
“I feel like one of those urban explorers on MyTube,” I giggled, keeping my voice low.
“It gets better.” Alex turned to the glass back door. Next to it was a broken window that allowed us to see into a dark, winding corridor. He reached through the hole and fumbled around with practiced ease.
A second later, a click rippled through the air, and the door creaked open. Holding it with only the tip of his index finger, he led the way, gently pushing the grimy glass so I wouldn’t have to touch it as I slipped inside. Alex’s decisive step pulled me after him. As the door fell into its frame behind me, a little dust fell from the ceiling onto us. The smell reminded me of my grandparents’ attic.
The walkway led us past the restrooms on the left and into a dining room that was still fully furnished. Framed pictures were left hanging on the walls. On the right, next to the covered display windows, there was a bar with nine stools in front of it. The dark green paint on the wooden countertop had already peeled in places. The empty shelves that had once held all the bottles of alcohol still reminded us of the better days this place had seen.
On the far left was a small raised platform that had been either a seating area or a stage, depending on the day you came, but it was now stacked with tables and chairs, leaving only a narrow strip to stand on. I remember coming here to listen to people play their guitars for everyone to enjoy; my grandpa had sometimes been one of them.
“This is my secret refuge,” Alex said, lifting his hands to show it off as he walked onto the stage. “I come here whenever I feel a little lost. I don’t know why, but being here always clears my mind.”
“When I was young, this place was bustling with people.” I wandered toward the bar and ran my fingers over it, regretting it right away as they turned black from all the dust that had settled on the countertop. My eyes drifted across the barstools. The third one looked like it had been cleaned recently. I walked over to it, skimmed it carefully, and seeing that my fingers didn’t turn black, I sat down. “So what do you do here when you feel lost?”
“Not much… Sitting around, looking at the pictures on the walls, maybe scribbling down some words or singing to myself.”
“So youdosing?”
“Doesn’t everyone sing sometimes?”
“I mean, I knowIdo. But you mentioned so often that you hated your voice that I didn’t expect you to still do it.”
He hid his hands in his pockets. “Just because I hate my voice doesn’t mean I can’t sing for myself every once in a while.”
“Can I hear it?”
“What for? You’d just hate it, too.”
“How do you know? Maybe I’ll be the first person to like your voice. I certainly enjoy listening to you speak.”
“You said yourself that speaking and singing voices aren’t the same.” Alex stood on stage like a lost child who wanted to sing but didn’t have the courage.
