distrust is fading like mist under a hot sun. I'm having difficulty trying to contain my rising excitement. So long. I still can't accept my good fortune.
Have you been here long, Sonny ? In this Place ?
The big window . Yes, forever . At least as long as I can remember . But how long? I focus on the little tree wearing its summer bonnet of green. Twenty…twenty-four seasons? But I'm not sure. Five years anyhow. A long time alone.
We're interrupted by the window dresser. "Ah, good morning, you two." He chuckles. "Are you nervous? After all, today is gonna be special." He takes the top off a big box, but blocks my view by stepping between Missy and me. "You first, Sonny." He dresses me.
In a few minutes he finishes and says, "You are quite handsome, Sonny—" He brushes something off my chest, then nods. "—Yes, sir, ready for the big day." Still blocking my view, he turns to attend Missy.
Eventually the old man whistles and whispers: "Oh, my." he has moved Missy nearer my side, but out of clear focus: she's just a white blur. "Okay, you two…"
I feel a hand touch mine…Missy's!
"Perfect," the old man says, after circling us. For a second the cynical expression leaves his face. "Just right." He gathers up his boxes and things, saying: "See you lovebirds in a week."
A warm tingling runs up my arm, thawing the old ache in my chest—the yearning melts and fades away. I feel…happy! Great, except for a twinge at the back of my mind—a sliver of apprehension, a sense of something amiss. I turn away from the vague sensation, explaining to Missy that after nightfall we'll be able to see each other's reflection in the big window.
The day passes slowly, but pleasantly, with many shoppers stopping to admire us.
"Oh, Fred, look, remember?"
"Yeah, they're sharp."
"Aaah, aren't they lovely?"
"Nice."
Missy and I must look special indeed to command so much attention from the shoppers. I'm anxious for the day to pass.
***
Darkness and the mirror.
Missy and I are dressed as bride and groom. She is incredibly lovely. You're truly beautiful, Missy .
And you're very handsome , she responds.
Her hand feels almost warm. I couldn't be happier. Perhaps this is love. The joy of love—?
Missy senses my strong feelings. I'm glad I'm here, Sonny . Your big window is a fine place ; so much light, so much excitement across the street .
No, I have never felt so good.
Sonny —? Her voice feels different.
Yes, Missy .
I hope we stay here forever . I mean when I was in the storeroom, it was so lonely . I felt unwanted, unloved . But I feel different now, special . Almost like I'm going to burst . I thought there was no one for me . Now I have you . I hope it lasts forever .
Forever—?
The vague sliver of apprehension crystallizes into an icicle and stabs my heart, as I hear the window dresser again: See you lovebirds in a week . One week! Missy and I have only one week. My spirit sags. I feel the old dull ache stirring in my chest…A sudden surge of anger. It isn't fair. I look at Missy's lovely reflection. I've waited so long. Even before the bridge, I must've been alone—
Sonny, are you all right ? Your hand feels icy .
Fine, I'm fine . I can't tell her. Seven days. I force myself to join her.
Everything is new to Missy. She's excited by the lights and music from the BAR. The night people are active, and she watches fascinated. She blurts out each discovery.
The night passes.
A siren screams its cry of misery.
My spirit revives slowly. I remember the boy and his advice: Don't cry anymore . It don't do no good, even if it hurts . Perhaps if I'd understood that before…
Seven days and seven nights of happiness. Perhaps a lifetime quota compressed into a continuous lump. Seven days of respite from loneliness—more than I ever expected. Maybe more than I deserve. For who am I, after all?
Only a storefront mannequin…in the big window.
***
A curtain, not mist, a solid transparent veil. Pain, great pain, so
Have you been here long, Sonny ? In this Place ?
The big window . Yes, forever . At least as long as I can remember . But how long? I focus on the little tree wearing its summer bonnet of green. Twenty…twenty-four seasons? But I'm not sure. Five years anyhow. A long time alone.
We're interrupted by the window dresser. "Ah, good morning, you two." He chuckles. "Are you nervous? After all, today is gonna be special." He takes the top off a big box, but blocks my view by stepping between Missy and me. "You first, Sonny." He dresses me.
In a few minutes he finishes and says, "You are quite handsome, Sonny—" He brushes something off my chest, then nods. "—Yes, sir, ready for the big day." Still blocking my view, he turns to attend Missy.
Eventually the old man whistles and whispers: "Oh, my." he has moved Missy nearer my side, but out of clear focus: she's just a white blur. "Okay, you two…"
I feel a hand touch mine…Missy's!
"Perfect," the old man says, after circling us. For a second the cynical expression leaves his face. "Just right." He gathers up his boxes and things, saying: "See you lovebirds in a week."
A warm tingling runs up my arm, thawing the old ache in my chest—the yearning melts and fades away. I feel…happy! Great, except for a twinge at the back of my mind—a sliver of apprehension, a sense of something amiss. I turn away from the vague sensation, explaining to Missy that after nightfall we'll be able to see each other's reflection in the big window.
The day passes slowly, but pleasantly, with many shoppers stopping to admire us.
"Oh, Fred, look, remember?"
"Yeah, they're sharp."
"Aaah, aren't they lovely?"
"Nice."
Missy and I must look special indeed to command so much attention from the shoppers. I'm anxious for the day to pass.
***
Darkness and the mirror.
Missy and I are dressed as bride and groom. She is incredibly lovely. You're truly beautiful, Missy .
And you're very handsome , she responds.
Her hand feels almost warm. I couldn't be happier. Perhaps this is love. The joy of love—?
Missy senses my strong feelings. I'm glad I'm here, Sonny . Your big window is a fine place ; so much light, so much excitement across the street .
No, I have never felt so good.
Sonny —? Her voice feels different.
Yes, Missy .
I hope we stay here forever . I mean when I was in the storeroom, it was so lonely . I felt unwanted, unloved . But I feel different now, special . Almost like I'm going to burst . I thought there was no one for me . Now I have you . I hope it lasts forever .
Forever—?
The vague sliver of apprehension crystallizes into an icicle and stabs my heart, as I hear the window dresser again: See you lovebirds in a week . One week! Missy and I have only one week. My spirit sags. I feel the old dull ache stirring in my chest…A sudden surge of anger. It isn't fair. I look at Missy's lovely reflection. I've waited so long. Even before the bridge, I must've been alone—
Sonny, are you all right ? Your hand feels icy .
Fine, I'm fine . I can't tell her. Seven days. I force myself to join her.
Everything is new to Missy. She's excited by the lights and music from the BAR. The night people are active, and she watches fascinated. She blurts out each discovery.
The night passes.
A siren screams its cry of misery.
My spirit revives slowly. I remember the boy and his advice: Don't cry anymore . It don't do no good, even if it hurts . Perhaps if I'd understood that before…
Seven days and seven nights of happiness. Perhaps a lifetime quota compressed into a continuous lump. Seven days of respite from loneliness—more than I ever expected. Maybe more than I deserve. For who am I, after all?
Only a storefront mannequin…in the big window.
***
A curtain, not mist, a solid transparent veil. Pain, great pain, so
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