NoHo Noir Short Fiction: 'Not-So-Secret Admirer'

Christo was beat to hell when he got home. The air conditioning hadn’t been working on the bus and he was sweaty and tired and cranky. He barely noticed the girl loitering in the parking lot of his apartment building until she stepped in front of him and said, “Hi Christo.”

 “Hey,” he replied before he realized he didn’t know her.

“When’s Ash getting home?” she asked. “I’ve been knocking and knocking and no one’s answering the door.”

There was a questioning inflection at the end of her sentence that sounded like an accusation, an adolescent whine to the words that made Christo take a second look at her.

Whoa. Beetlejuice called. He wants his look back.

She was 25 trying to look 16; a plus-size girl vacuum-packed into a size 14. Her eye makeup was so heavy she looked like an unemployed drag queen.

“Um,” Christo said. “I think he said he was going to dinner at his aunt’s tonight.”

“Hmmm,” she said. “He didn’t tell me.”

She stared at Christo for a minute.

“That smells good,” she said finally, indicating his bag of take-out from Ernie’s Taco House.

“Yeah,” he said, somewhat unnerved by her fixed stare.

He juggled the bag as he took out his key, wondering if she was going to try to follow him inside.

“I need to pee,” she said. “Can I come in and use your bathroom.”

F*** no, Christo thought.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?” she asked. “What does that mean?”

She took a step toward Christo, her body language bristling. “I just need to pee. I won’t look at the porn stash next to your toilet.”

Jesus. Who are you?

“I’ve got herpes,” Christo said. “You don’t want to use my toilet.”

“I’ll just use Ash’s then.”

“Uh, no,” Christo said again.

“He won’t mind,” she said. “He’s my boyfriend.”

Christo looked at her. “He’s gay.”

“Not any more,” she said, and smiled in a way that made her eyes go all piggy.

Okaay.

She consulted the enormous watch she had strapped to one wrist.

“Gotta go,” she said.

Thank God.

“Tell Ash Sera stopped by.”

“I’ll do that,” Christo promised.

“Maybe I’ll stop by later.”

“Sure,” he said and unlocked the door. He glided through the opening like a roach sliding into an electrical outlet, then shut the door firmly behind him. He watched out the living room window until he saw her get into her car and drive off.

He wondered if he should memorize her license plate number.

Christo and Ash’s Apartment

North Hollywood, CA 91602

7:15 p.m.

He found Ash sitting on the floor in his bedroom with the window blinds shut tight.

“Is she gone?” Ash asked.

“Who is she?”

“Is she gone?” Ash asked again.

“Yeah, she drove off as I came in.”

Christo studied his roommate. “What’s going on?”

“She’s stalking me,” Ash said.

Christo busted up laughing, then realized his roommate wasn’t kidding.

 “Wait a minute,” Christo said. “Is she the girl who nailed that beef heart to the door on Valentine’s Day?”

Ash nodded miserably.

What is her problem?” Christo asked.

“She’s crazy,” Ash said.

“How do you even know her?”

“She works at the thrift store next to the dispensary. We kept running into each other at Starbucks.”

“She says she’s your girlfriend.”

“She has boundary issues.”

Ash stared down at the bedroom’s shag carpeting and pulled up a few fibers.

“She called me Christo, Ash. How does she even know my name?”

“We used to talk,” Ash confessed. “I told her about the old lady at the gas station.”

Jesus Ash.

“Jesus Ash, that was stupid.”

“I know,” Ash said. “I know.”

“And you told her I was there?”

“You were there.”

“I wasn’t the one who pushed her.”

“But you didn’t say anything about it.”

“Because I didn’t want anything to happen to you.”

Ash snorted. “Yeah, that’s you all over Christo, humanitarian of the year.”

Christo flipped him off and went into his bedroom to eat dinner.

An hour later the doorbell rang.

“I’ll pay you to open the door” Ash said.

“Let me borrow your car tomorrow.”

“Deal,” Ash said.

When Christo walked through the living room, he saw Sera pressed up against the big window, looking in.

She spotted Christo and waved.

He put on a big fake smile and waved back.

When he opened the door he made sure to block it with his shoe so she couldn’t push it open.

“Christo, hi!” she said.

“He’s not back yet Sera.”

She craned her head, trying to see past him.

“Listen, I can come in and wait for him.”

“No,” Christo said.

“He won’t mind.”

“But I do,” Christ said.

She did the piggy-eye thing again then nodded her head thoughtfully.

“I get it,” she said. “You’re jealous because you don’t have a girlfriend and Ash does.”

“Ash is gay.”

“I bet you’d like my friend Ashley,” she said. “She’s intense.”

No, I really don’t think so.

“Maybe we can double-date,” Sera suggested.

“Yeah, maybe. Listen, I’m watching a movie, so …”

“What movie?” Sera asked.

Oh Jesus.

“It’s a foreign film,” he said.

And the next words out of your mouth are going to be …

“Oh, I love foreign films …”

“You wouldn’t like this one,” Christo said, “It makes fun of fat girls.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“Why would I care about that?” she asked.

Why indeed? Christo thought. If you think your vagina can magically “cure” Ash, how hard can it be to imagine you’re thin and beautiful?

Christo’s Android rang.

Thank God, Christo thought.

It was Ash.

“Hello?”

“I’m calling to tell you there’s been a family emergency.”

“Family emergency?” Christo echoed, conscious of Sera listening to every word.

Sera reached out a chubby hand for Christo’s phone.

“Let me talk to him,” she demanded.

Christo snatched his phone out of her reach.

“Tell Sera I’ll see her at Starbucks tomorrow.”
“Are you sure?” Christo asked.

“Okay,” he said into the phone, “I’ll tell her.”

He slipped his phone into his pocket, looked Sera in the eyes and lied to her. “Ash is staying at his aunt’s tonight. She slipped in the kitchen and hurt her back. He’ll see you tomorrow at Starbucks.”

“I studied to be a massage therapist,” Sera said. “Where does his aunt live? I can bring my massage table to her.”

She waggled her fat fingers in his face. “I have magic in my hands,” she said.

“Excellent,” Christo said.

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?” Her shoulders tensed up until she looked like a hunchback.

“I’ll tell him you stopped by, Sera.”

“You’d better,” she said and then added a smile so he would know she was just kidding, sorta, maybe.

“Wait,” she said as he was closing the door. “How did Ash know I was here?”

S***, Christo thought.

Two hours later, someone started pounding on the door.

As Ash retreated into his room, he called out, “You can borrow my car for a week, just put gas in it.”

Christo pulled open the door, prepared to let Sera have it. Instead he found himself facing Ash’s Aunt Bansari, a short, gaunt woman who creeped him out. Standing next to her was a pretty girl about 25 with a long thick braid of glossy black hair and an expression that said, “Kill. Me. Now.”

Christo knew that Ash’s Aunt Bansari was the biggest proponent of the family fiction that one day Ash was going to settle down like his older brother Sanjay and breed a bunch of second-generation desi spawn. If she was here on their doorstep it was not good news.

“Good evening Christopher,” Aunt Bansari said.

Christopher nodded a greeting. “Is Ashok here?” she asked.

“I’ll get him,” he said.

Two minutes later, Ash was offering his aunt and the girl tea.

“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Goli,” Christo said and then turned to go back to his room. He nodded to the girl.

“Ashok,” his aunt said, “I want you to meet Paramita.”

“Call me Mita,” the girl said.

“Your future wife,” Aunt Bansari added.

Christo stopped in the hallway to listen. He could see a slice of the girl from his vantage point but she couldn’t see him.

“I am going to leave you two to talk,” she said. “Ashok, you will take Paramita home later.”

Ash didn’t say anything but Christo could tell he was nodding “Yes.” That was pretty much his only option if his aunt wanted him to do anything.

Christo heard the door close behind the old lady and there was a long silence. He held his breath.

“You know I’m gay, right?” Ashok asked.

“No, really?” Mita replied. She was smirking.

“I follow you on Twitter,” she said. “I know that 'works in the medical profession' means on your profile.”

“You follow me on Twitter?”

‘Yeah,” she said. “Since January. This wedding thing has been in the works for awhile.”

“I didn’t know.”

 “Here’s the deal Ashok,” she said. I don’t want to marry you any more than you want to marry me, but there’s an upside here. Our parents are bound and determined to do this old school, which means a dowry."

“A dowry?”

"And we’ve both got tons of family here in L.A. so you know what that means?"

Ash didn’t answer. “It means loot, Ash.”

“I don’t think people give money so much any more.”

“Who needs money?” she asked. “We get the presents, take them back for in-store credit or sell them on eBay. I’m pretty sure my parents are going to give us a down payment on a house.”

“There is no us,” Ash said, then he asked, “A house where?”

“Eagle Rock, probably, or maybe Silverlake. We’d have to live together for awhile but it’d be nicer than living here. And then down the road, say in two years, we get an amicable divorce. What do you say?”

There was a long pause.

“Are you 420-friendly?”

Mita smiled wickedly and pulled a baggie of marijuana out of her pocket.

“A man after my own heart.”

Christo crept down the hallway to his room, trying to process the turn of events.

I’ll have to get a new roommate, he thought. Crap.