Oasis of Love

Between two white casement windows, that were swung open into the New York autumn, were orange and red maple leaves sprinkling the sky, falling through the cozy cold wind in a comfortable afternoon. A blue cloudless sky glossed over Manhattan as the chinking sound of bike gears passed below, accompanied with a light, pleasant ringing of a bell.

Behind the white casement windows was Saul, sitting in his cream colored sweater staring patiently in his caramel ladderback chair with his left elbow propped on a small circular table. He cupped his left hand around his jaw as he read over the typed words scrolling out of his navy blue typewriter. A nearly empty red mug held the same mild coffee resting in a single-serve French press beside the typewriter.

Saul rubbed the light stubble that bristled his face as he contemplated the next events of his novel. He was inspired but lacked content to create; it was the rare occasion when a writer is eager to sit and work for hours only to have nothing to write about. But Saul sat determined and optimistic, knowing that soon enough the thought will come.

In the meantime Saul slightly refilled his coffee, holding the top of the French press and tipping the cinnamon colored coffee into his red mug; he enjoyed the faint sound of coffee, or any liquid, pouring into a base or a cup. He finished and set it down, blew on the surface, and touched it to his lips. From outside Saul heard another sound. A new sound, one he wasn’t familiar with in his writing aesthetic. He twisted around in his chair and listened. The sound was a woman singing softly.

Her voice was beautiful, light and breathy. The song she sang was a ballad like a lullaby, with long pauses and in a simple ¾ signature in a major scale. Her voice trailed in and out and she seemed to move around while she sung her tune.

Saul was drawn to her song. He stood up and took his coffee to his window, where he rested his forearms on the windowsill and listened. Saul looked down the exposed brick wall that made up the building and to the right, where he saw a planter box with marigolds hanging on an open window, which contained the mesmerizing voice. He could hear her faintly.

Pull down the stars and keep them in a jar

Keep a little fire in your heart

When a cold night gets dark

And dream all your troubles away

Steal a ray of sunrise and keep it in your eyes

Hide a smile in your carry-on

To carry on when the world turns grey

After the tears and all my fears

Have cried you away

I’ll say good-bye and wave

As I sing of the secrets I save

In my oasis of love

After she finished the chorus, she stopped singing aloud and began humming the melody. Saul sipped his coffee and continued to watch down and to the right at the open window. She suddenly popped out from the window and looked around. Saul could only barely make out what she looked like: brown hair put up in a bun and a fuzzy white robe with sleeves that hung low. She walked away from the window and returned deeper in her apartment.

Saul felt as if he had missed his opportunity to speak to her, wondering if he’d ever see her again. He looked out into the street and watched a bundled couple walk down the sidewalk with green scarves wrapped around their necks. He sighed and brought the coffee to his lips when he saw in his peripheral the woman pop out of her window again. She came to look at her marigolds and held a wine glass with red wine residue sitting at the bottom. She titled her head and watered the flowers with the leftover wine. She looked up and to the left and noticed Saul watching her. She tilted her head the other way and smiled happily at him. She waved with her fingers quickly.

“Excuse me,” Saul called out.

She leaned back and up looked up at him. “Yes?” Her voice was high pitched and almost Trans-Atlantic.

“I heard you singing.”

He could see her purse her mouth and smile, refraining from blushing. “Well, I certainly hoped you liked it.”

“I did, very much. Are you a singer?”

“My mother thinks so. She says, ‘Audrey, you ought to give it a try and see what might come of it.’”

“Audrey?” Saul smiled as he said her name.

“Oh, yes.”

“I’m Saul.”

“It’s nice to meet you Saul,” she gave a small courtesy. Saul lifted his red mug up. “What do you do, Saul, besides listen to strangers sing from the window?”

“I’m a writer. Or, I’d like to try and become one.”

“Have you written any books?” Audrey asked excitedly.

“No, not yet,” he wished he could lie but something about her charisma kept him honest in their introduction.

“Well what made you want to become a writer, Saul?” she asked fairly.

“Thought I ought to see what might come of it.”

“Perhaps we should switch families, you and I; you’d make an awfully good daughter for my mother it seems. Of course, not as pretty, but some men I know can look pretty. As long as they’re already handsome to begin with. You look sort of handsome, Saul, wouldn’t you agree? It’s hard to tell with how far away we are.”

Saul smiled. He was immediately enthralled by Audrey. She had a brash charm to her; noticing all your imperfections and capable of making those imperfections stick out like a sore thumb only to convince you they simply don’t bother her at all.

“My mother thinks so.”

“Your chin could be sharper but you have a strong forehead. People often forget a forehead can make a man look old and angry if he doesn’t take care of it.”

“Is that so?” Saul was amused.

“Certainly. I’ve been on hundreds of dates and the only ones that amounted to anything were men who had the fewest wrinkles. I don’t know why, but it’s true!” She looked back in her apartment and then looked up at Saul. “Would you like an apple? I’m going to have one myself.” She disappeared into her apartment.

Saul waited patiently with a smile plastered on his face. He was totally enraptured with Audrey; the way she wore her personality on her sleeve and gave honest opinions so quickly in their meeting - Saul was willing to wait all day for her to return.

Audrey came shortly to the window and looked up and to the left at Saul holding two shiny green apples. “Catch!” She tossed a green apple underhanded up to him; Saul bent down and snatched it. He took a crisp juicy bite, popping the skin of the fruit as he sunk his teeth into the white center. Audrey carefully placed her front teeth near the top of the apple and bit in, chewing delicately.

Audrey looked in her flowerbed and admired the marigolds. Saul pointed with the apple in his hand. “Your flowers are growing nicely.”

“I don’t know,” she responded frankly. “I haven’t done much to help them. I think about them lots but I don’t ever remember to water them. Winter is just a few months away and I’m sure by then they’ll die. Oh well.” She took another bite of her apple. Audrey suddenly snapped her head towards Saul and asked anxiously, “Saul, are you writing any new books?”

“Yes, actually,” he was grateful he didn’t need to lie to her. “I’m working on it now,” he gestured back inside his apartment.

“How wonderful! What’s it about? Unless it’s a secret. Oh, tell me anyway – I won’t tell anyone. I’m quite good at keeping secrets you know.”

Saul chuckled to himself at her child-like enthusiasm. “I haven’t really figured it out yet.”

“Well, what have you figured out?”

“I’d like to tell a story about a dog, I think.” He didn’t like his answer as he spoke it.

“A dog?” Audrey repeated.

“I think.”

“Dogs are kind and loyal,” she admitted. “And most of them are cute. Except Saint Bernard’s. I find they’re too slobbery and they breathe too loudly.”

“I lost my dog about a year ago,” Saul tried to keep his tone from sounding solemn. “I didn’t know anyone when I moved to New York so I bought myself a dachshund. Pepper. She kept me company for seven years before she had a lung failure.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Saul,” Audrey spoke softly.

“I guess that’s why I want to write about a dog. Be able to know how good someone was, like Pepper, before you lose them.” Saul took a bite of his green apple.

Audrey looked down at her flowerbed once more. “I don’t even think my marigolds will last seven weeks. I think you did a fine job looking after your dog, Pepper.”

Saul nodded. “Thank you. I miss her.”

“Truthfully I can’t keep anything. I tried once with a goldfish, but after I bought it I had forgotten all about it! I didn’t remember I had bought a fish for a month! Naturally it died. Silly me.” Audrey spotted something black in the soil of her marigolds. She leaned closer and saw a beetle rolled up in the soil. She gently poked it and realized it was dead. Audrey set down her apple in flowers and carefully picked up the beetle in her palms. “Do you ever wonder if God mourns all the little bugs that get squished or drown in a flowerbed?”

Saul looked curiously at her. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever wondered that.”

“Or say your dog or my fish,” she continued without skipping a beat. “Have you ever wondered if God really has the time to cry over all of them? Plus, there’s all the people, too. I don’t blame him, if he can’t; seems awfully exhausting. I can hardly keep track of all my wrongdoings and what’s worth crying over. I spend a lot of time doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Keeping track of my wrongdoings.” Audrey set the beetle back in the soil. “Most mornings, I’ll wake up and think over what I screwed up yesterday, and then decide if it was worth it or not. And if I can’t convince myself that it wasn’t worth it, then I try and convince myself it wasn’t a screw up at all. I’ve been engaged three times, you see, soon to be a fourth I believe, though I’m not seeing anyone yet; I’d just like to be. But I’ve never been married, you see. I think I rather enjoy the thrill of engagement more than the commitment. Just the idea of waiting to be in love – more than you already are. You receive all this attention, pick out dresses and flowers and plan a party.” She looked down and furrowed her brow in sudden sorrow. “I suppose that something in me won’t let me love a man. I’ll lie in bed and think over all the reasons why I love my fiancé. For whatever reason, each time, there comes a night when I can’t. Then… well, I reason I must not love him.” She snatched her apple off the flowerbed and brushed off the soil stuck to the bottom. “I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to understand what I want in a man that I can’t seem to find, or at least last as long as my engagements.” She snapped a piece of the apple off with her teeth and chewed delicately.

“You spend a great deal of time thinking, if you don’t mind me saying.” Saul responded.

“Oh, I don’t mind you saying so at all. I’ve become quite good at thinking. It keeps me grounded, always having an out.”

“An out?”

“Sure, it’s good to know what to do in case something ever goes wrong or if you lose a substantial sum of money or, even, if someone breaks your heart.”

“What is it then, Audrey, you’d like in a man that you haven’t been able to convince yourself of with those other men?”

“Well, it sounds like such a simple question, doesn’t it? Someone kind and strong and smart and good sense of humor. Not too serious, not too stubborn. Not too lazy, either. Willing to let me throw a fit if I’ve had just the worst day. I think, then, after that, is where I’m stuck. I don’t know what else I’d like in a husband. Perhaps I’m just too afraid to be known the way…” Audrey’s voice suddenly trailed off. She sighed quickly, and glanced away from Saul. Saul watched her with great compassion, feeling worry overcome him as she worked to avoid crying. She looked up at him and smiled. “I guess it’s a scary thing. To be known, huh?”

“Yes. It’s a scary thing.” Saul listened to her while the whole world around him drowned out. It was only him and her.

Audrey picked her nails nervously. “Have you ever been married or in love, Saul?”

“Once. She was the reason I moved here to New York. I followed her after she received a job offer, and that’s when we had our big fight.” Saul hung his head. “To make a long story short, she didn’t think I was ever going to make it as a writer.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Saul. I think you’re a great writer.”

“Thanks, but you’ve never read any of my stuff. No one has, actually.” He rubbed his chin nervously. “Anyway. I still had this apartment lined up. Needed to cope somehow. That’s when I bought Pepper.”

Audrey smiled. Then she looked to the side, out on the street, and contemplated for a moment. She looked up and to the left at Saul, who was staring at the sky. “Sounds like we could use a little love in our lives.”

Saul nodded slowly in agreement. “Yeah. Sounds like we could use a little love.”

Audrey bit her thumb and then combed her hair behind her ear. “Who do you have in mind?”

Saul leaned on the windowsill and stared at the sky, pondering his answer. He inhaled deeply, and then turned to face Audrey, down and to his right. “We ought to start with ourselves.”

Audrey lifted her head, as if to respond, but she didn’t know what to say. She closed her mouth and then looked up at Saul fondly. A look of concern washed over her eyes, similar to the vulnerability of being naked. Saul took one last bite of his green apple and then chucked it across the street into a small grove beside the sidewalk. He picked up his red mug and looked back at Audrey one last time. “Quite the conversation between two strangers, wasn’t it?”

She swallowed hard. “I don’t think we’re strangers anymore.”

“I guess you’re right. And I think I know what I’m going to write about.” He took a small sip of his cold coffee. “Nice to meet you Audrey.” He walked inside his apartment.

Audrey leaned against her windowsill and stared up at his empty window. “You too, Saul,” she whispered to herself. She began to hum the lullaby that she sung earlier, humming louder until she sang the lyrics aloud.

Pull down the stars and keep them in a jar

Keep a little fire in your heart

When a cold night gets dark

And dream all your troubles away

Steal a ray of sunrise and keep it in your eyes

Hide a smile in your carry-on

To carry on when the world turns grey

After the tears and all my fears

Have cried you away

I’ll say good-bye and wave

As I sing of the secrets I save

In my oasis of love