Opening doors, first chapter preview!

                 Arrival

Nothing really seemed to make sense. The sounds and sights only came to me in waves, as if I were moving in and out of consciousness. I looked up at the ceiling. White ceiling tiles, just like the ones you see in the hospital.  There were only a few things that I knew for sure at this point; I was in a hospital, I wasn’t wearing my own clothes and I don’t think anything was broken. 

My vision was blurry but I could make out that I had tubes feeding me some kind of fluids into my right arm. I could hear beeping from the machine I was hooked up to and muffled whispers. There was an indescribable pain in my side and in my stomach, it felt as though someone had punched a hole right through me. Someone was holding my left hand, I tried to turn my head toward them, to look and see who it was but my head hurt so bad. It felt like a man’s touch. Whoever it was, they cared enough to stay with me. I felt comforted for a moment. I closed my eyes again to escape the pain. How did I get here? How did my life amount to this? Was I dying? God, how did I get here? Did I do this to myself? Thinking back on it now……

It all began when I moved to a new city, seeking a fresh start…

I always wanted to move to a bigger city. You could hear a pin drop in my little town outside of Madison, WI. It was silent in comparison to Chicago. The traffic was congested; honking horns, people yelling. The buildings climbed upward into the skyline further than I could see. The lights seemed to change from green to red in only a fraction of a second. No wonder I had already seen three accidents since I left the airport. Moving to a new town is always difficult, especially one as big as Chicago. It was scary and beautiful all at the same time.

          The cab came to a screeching halt.

         

          “Thirty five dollars ma’am,” said the cab driver.

         

          “Ummm.” Fumbling through my purse, “here you go,”

         

          He got out, grabbed my bags and threw them on the ground then drove off. I tried to scoop up all my bags in one shot so I didn’t have to make two trips. I stood in the corridor looking towards the top.

         

          “This is gonna be awful! Six flights?” I began winding up the stairs when an old man came wandering out from his apartment. There he stood, in just his tighty whiteys holding his television remote. Looking quite proud of himself, he stood there for a moment and smiled. Oddly enough, he asked if I needed any help. I shook my head no and walked right past him. I was a little surprised to see a nearly naked middle-aged man greeting me upon my arrival.

           I finally reached my apartment, where there was a note on the door from the property owner.

It read:

          Miss Venture,

          Welcome! If you have any questions please feel free to call me anytime if you have any questions or concerns. Rent is due the first of the month no later………..

Well, you get the point.

I set my other bag down and tried to unlock the door.

          “Aw, what the heck… wrong key?” I jiggled it a bit, it finally gave way then swung open.

          Not exactly my idea of home but nothing a little cleaning and furniture couldn’t fix. I peered around the doorway to make sure I didn’t have any unwanted guests. The property owner did imply that it had not been rented in a while; oddly enough, I could smell the fresh paint on the walls.

          The large bay windows in the living area really gave the old place some life. I could already imagine myself sitting on the window bench seat that over looked the city. The other rooms in the place were rather small and dark. The wood floors creaked when you walked over them.

          I found a clean spot on the old white kitchen tile counter top to sit down. Next to me was a newspaper dated for yesterday, it must have been left here from the painter yesterday.  

         

          “Perfect!” I turned to the employment section and began my search. Just as I began scanning through there was a knock at the door. I looked through the peephole to see who it was.  It was that old guy again, this time he was fully clothed. I decided it was ok to open the door, seeing how he is properly dressed this time.

         

          “Uh, hi! I’m Al. I just wanted to introduce myself; I’ve been here for twenty years,” he said sheepishly. 

          Al was a middle-aged man, who was balding on the top of his head. He was rather stout and disproportionate, he didn’t look as though he took very good care of himself and his small glasses were tightly pressed against his face. He seemed like a simple man, not very well dressed. Seeing that he was approaching me in a more appropriate manner I put out my hand.

         

          “I’m Rachael, I just moved here from Wisconsin,”

He shook my hand loosely but with a smile.

         

          “I do apologize for my behavior before. I knew someone was moving in today… and I, I have not had a neighbor in a long while. That’s all,” he stammered.

         

“Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” I wasn’t quite sure what to say to this little man, who appeared to be a bit lonely.

         

          “Well, I’ll let you get back to your unpacking; I live right down the hall. So, if you ever need anything just let me know,” he said as he scanned the room behind me.

         

          “Thanks,” I pushed out a weary smile.

          I shut the door as he walked away, I locked it just in case. It was a nice gesture but I don’t know anybody around here.

 I went into my small bathroom and cleaned it vigorously. The bathroom was rather bright, even though it did not have a window in it. The bathtub itself was an antique, it was one of those old claw foot tubs, and I absolutely loved it! It sat so carefully on four tiny little legs in the middle of the bathroom. You could see where the tub had sat for many years before; there were four large imprints in the floor beneath it.

         

I looked in the mirror just to see how badly the day’s events had treated me. I twisted my dark brown hair in a knot and pegged it to the top of my head. Revealing how much my blonde highlights had grown out. I stood there studying the darkened circles around my still, amazingly bright blue eyes. I looked down at my dirty clothes from having traveled and moved all day and shook my head. I tugged at the corner of my t-shirt that no longer fit my petite frame, as I had lost ten pounds recently. My shoes looked tired and ready to make their home in a nearby dumpster. My pants spattered with paint and car grease. I closed my eyes for just a moment and thought about how good it feels to be in clean clothes. Thus motivating me to hang in there a little longer, just enough to have a warm bath.

 I walked out into the living room and grabbed the newspaper I had found and drew up a bath. Once I got in, I slid down the wall of the tub into the water. I took a moment to be thankful that I made it safely to Chicago. Even though I was having a moment of pure relaxation, the noise outside wasn’t any bother. It was already becoming a sound of comfort. Reminding me, I was at my new home. I was proud of myself for having decided to move. My family thought I was a little crazy for driving down to Florida by myself, now they just think I’m nuts! I didn’t really miss my quiet little town back home, yet. I was sure I was going to miss my family at some point, but Wisconsin isn’t very far away.

          I sat back up so I could begin scanning the paper again.

         

          Part time: days- website design, inquire by phone. Some experience needed, portfolios preferred.

Perfect daytime job. “Circle that. Now for night time.” Waitress: $2.45 plus tips. “Nope, not enough,” Bartender: country club setting, $5.50 payroll. Spit tips. “No, no, no… wait a minute.” Something caught my eye. Wanted: bartender, license required. Ten dollars cash, plus tips. Fast paced Irish pub. The Closed door, 121 Division St. The closed door, I wonder why it’s called that? I hope it’s not clubby, lines and V.I.P lists. I don’t want to deal with that. I circled and stared it and threw the paper on the ground next to the tub. I slid down the back of the tub again and soaked for what seemed like an eternity. Before I knew it, I had transformed into what looked like an eighty-year-old woman. I had more wrinkles than my grandma did. I quickly got out and threw on my towel.

          I walked over to the bay window that over looked the street. My apartment looked like a shoebox compared to what I could see in the distance. The Chicago skyline was amazing. Every building was covered in sheets of glass and adorned with at least one tiny little red light on every rooftop. Outside the streets were filled with busy people. I hadn’t really seen anything like it. Madison was a busy place, but this was different. It was new.          

          It was the brink of spring; everything was finally turning green again. Here everyone looked like they were in such a rush to get nowhere, really. Maybe it was because I had nowhere to go, no one to meet. At least I didn’t yet. It was so noisy compared to home. I always felt so restricted at home, here there just looked like there is so much opportunity to be had. I had big ideas in a little city and nowhere to go with them. I always had this feeling that there was something else out there for me. Chicago stood out on the map for me; something brought me here, I just had to figure out what it was.

          The breeze that came in through the windows was still a little crisp. I was on my own for the first time in my life. Truthfully, I was scared out of my mind, at the same time it was quite liberating. The massive skyline in itself was quite intimidating. Yet, I was determined to have a life on my own, make some new friends and just live. I have never lived on my own before. 

          My mother always taught me to be careful. Look after your drinks when you go out. Don’t give strangers your address. Having some good common sense could come in handy when you don’t know anybody.

           Whenever she and I would go out for a drink, she would always comment on men staring at me, I could not understand why. I don’t have a low self-esteem; I just don’t think that I am any different from other women as far as looks are concerned. I stand about five foot three, rather short if you ask me. About one hundred and fifteen pounds, good enough size chest. Mom always insisted that the boob fairy skipped her crib but not mine. I cannot help but laugh to myself thinking of her saying this to me.

                  

          She always had told me I have a lot to offer a man; on the other hand, there is a lot about me that would scare a man off. I guess its intimidating meeting a woman like me. I can fix my own car; I know I’m intelligent and I’m not painful on the eyes. I’m not arrogant or anything but, I know I’m not hideous. In addition, considering I know more about cars than most of the guys I dated, I would say it is intimidating. I go out on a first date, he gets a flat, and I’m the first one hauling out the jack and the doughnut tire? Tell me what is wrong with that picture? We’re not going out on a second date! You should at least know how to change a tire or jump your car, that’s standard man protocol.

         

          Tomorrow I have to look my best, I have to dress to impress. I’m getting up early to go out to find a job. It should not be too hard considering I’m pretty much a jack-of-all-trades. If I’m trained well enough, I can do most anything. I’m not sure yet, what I want, although that bartender ad caught my eye. I’ve always thought about being a bartender; it would be a great way to meet people and fast. I want to have some fun before I settle into a career. It was time to get some rest. I had a long day of travel behind me and a big day of job searching to do tomorrow.

          I lie there encircled in this old familiar gray haze. Unfortunately, this has been in my life long enough that it has come to be a bit of a comfort blanket to me. I watch it dance in the little bit of moonlight that is making its way through the big bay window. It’s my most disgusting habit, when I’m nervous or maybe drinking. Come to think of it, I can find time to smoke always. Cigarette after cigarette, I’m not a chain smoker or anything; I’ve actually grown to hate the little things. You know what? They’re always there. Where ever I go, if I’m alone or with people. As I lay there watching this cloud of comfort waft across the room I come to realize how exhausted I really should be. I’m not, I just can’t sleep knowing that just outside these walls is a completely different world I do not know. My mind just will not shut off, I am just too excited. I quickly swat my hand into the air to watch as the cloud drifts away. I could stay up the rest of the night dreaming up elaborate fantasies as to what great things this new city will bring into my life. Instead, I have to opt to get some sleep and begin living it.

          I awoke to find myself being able to begin a new day, in a new world. Waking to silence would be like waking to find that you’ve struck it rich overnight.

          “What is that? What is that noise?” The awful noise shot me clear out of bed.

          I threw my window open and looked down toward the ground. Some idiot drove his car into a pole hit several other cars and set the alarms off on all of them.

“What a way to start out the day,” I muttered to myself as I rifled through my bag looking for some job friendly clothes.

          I never was much for dress to impress. Not really a fashion slave. My wardrobe consisted of expensive jeans; skate supportive t-shirts, tank tops, a dress or two and board shoes.

          “Eh, this’ll do,” throwing my selection on the air mattress.

          I walked quickly down the hallway, as not to be seen. Al seemed as though he means well but I don’t think I’m ready to deal with him yet today. I stepped outside and lit my first cigarette of the day. That was usually the only cigarette I liked. 

         

          I walked to the corner where I had noticed a diner the day before. Rosie’s café, it sounds quaint. I went in and sat down in the smoking section along with every other paying customer in the entire restaurant. It looked like a fifties diner. Over the speakers, I heard Buddy holly playing. The floors hadn’t been re-done in probably fifty years. There were pieces of the ceiling tiles that had been replaced, the rest were brown from all of the smoke residue. The food sure did look good; I passed by a few people who had already gotten their breakfasts. Sometimes these kinds of places were the best to eat.  

          I looked over the menu, scrambled eggs, bacon, and white toast. Something with caffeine, I thought to myself. A diet coke. Now, I’ll be able to think on my toes, brain food. The waitress came over, took my order, and walked away. I sat quietly looking out the window. Watching all the people walking by. What an interesting city, huge skyscrapers. Constant honking of horns, the occasional, “Hey, buddy, get outta the road!” Being shouted out of some cabby’s window.

          The waitress returned with my food, set it down in front of me, and broke off my trance.

         

          “Say, do you know where I could get a map? Jo?” I asked as I glanced at her nametag.  

         

          “Actually, there is a 7- eleven across the street, he should have maps there.”         

         

          “Well, where you looking to go? I might be able to give you directions; I know this city like the back of my hand.” Jo offered.

          I reached into my purse and grabbed out the ad from the paper. “121 Division St. The Closed Door.”

          Jo looked as though she had been running the waitress circuit all of her life. The years were not kind to her, you could see in the lines of time printed carefully all over her face. When she spoke, one would get the idea that Jo smoked four packs of cigarettes a day. Her honey colored hair was stricken with grey and white, tied back in a sloppy bun fashion. You could see in her faded brown eyes that the woman had worked hard all of her life and wanted nothing more than a break.

         

          “Oh yea, sure. When you pay for your bill, I can write down the directions…where ya from anyway honey?” Jo asked.

         

          “Well, I just moved here yesterday from…” I began.

         

          “Well, you don’t wanna go telling everybody that, they’ll take ya for what yer worth,” she quickly interrupted. “I gotta go, my next orders up, you see me for those directions before you leave and enjoy your breakfast,” She spit out nearly in one breath.

          I ate my breakfast and tried to picture what The Closed Door was like; at this point, I did not want to leave anything to my imagination.