Domino
Royo Takishimi walks out of his apartment at 3:59 PM and is almost immediately run down by an ice cream truck going much too fast. The truck driver screeches away nonchalantly and Royo shakes his fist at the puff of smoke it leaves.
Royo is having quite a bad day. His girlfriend packed up and left him last night. He usually has sex with her in the mornings but not this morning. He just had a late lunch by himself at home – leftover Chinese takeout – but is now going back to work.
Blair Charlotte is a beautiful little girl. She already won first place at Little Miss Sunflower and had actually been stopped on the street last year by an acting/modeling agent. Blair’s mother Yolanda would have signed her up right away but it happened while Blair was with her father for the week. He picked Blair up off the ground and flipped the agent off while carrying her away. Blair cried about it until her father bought her a Barbie and strawberry ice cream. She just got out of her last class and is on the school-sanctioned bus ride to her ballet lessons.
Yolanda, Blair’s mother, won the 1985 Beauty of the Boroughs Pageant based on her silver bikini and moderately skillful baton twirling. She is currently stuck in traffic on the corner of Manhattan and 9th. Her platinum blonde hair razored into a severe chop sways every time she glances out her cab window at the light. She taps her foot irritatingly until her stiletto slips off.
Yolanda huffs, bends down, and pulls it back on. As the cab begins to finally pull forward, she sits up and spots an ATM out the window.
Yolanda is late to pick up Blair from ballet and hasn’t paid the ballet teacher in nearly four weeks now. She has also just realized she has no cash to pay the cab driver. She suddenly asks Muhammad Jazhal to pull over for a moment. Muhammad, who should've gone on his break ten minutes ago, sighs and does so.
Royo gets back to the office on time, but immediately realizes he forgot his quarterly competitive marketing proposal on the kitchen table. He is scheduled to present it to his boss in half an hour. He clenches his eyes together, then takes off, but he will not get back in time.
Yolanda flies to the ATM, just cutting off a man wearing a black business suit, even though it is over ninety degrees out. She hastily apologizes as she punches in her PIN number, Clark’s birthday, which she mentally reminds herself to change now that the divorce is final.
Royo gets home at 6:59 PM. He is exhausted but looking forward to being comforted about the proposal fiasco by Claire until he remembers she’s gone. He is hungry but does not want to go eat out alone. He flips on the TV to hear his stock has plummeted another few points.
Blair is the only ballerina left. Her forehead is pressed against the front glass of the ballet studio on West 53rd.
“Sweetie, should I call your mom again?”
Mrs. Valmont is 56 years old and doesn’t know how to work a cellular phone.
“OK.”
And Mrs. Valmont is in the back room using the rotary phone on the wall next to her framed 1962 degree from Linda’s Collegiate School of Dance. Yolanda feels the vibration in her coat pocket but continues to punch buttons.
Royo is still hungry. He doesn’t keep much food at home because he often goes out with Betsy. Royo looks everywhere for his Yellow Pages to call for pizza, but his sneaky old illegal immigrant neighbors always steal them because they’re not registered as citizens.
Yolanda arrives at Twinkletoes Junior Studios half an hour late. She apologizes profusely to Mrs. Valmont and hands her a fat wad of cash. Mrs. Valmont seems perfectly satisfied with this apology. Blair, on the other hand, is furious.
“I was waiting
forever.”
“I know, Sweetie Pie, I’m so sorry. My cab got stuck in traffic. I’ll tell you what; how about I bring you to a movie tonight? Broadway show? What will make it better?”
Royo Takishimi gives up on the Yellow Pages and hunts down a 24/7 Pizza Delivery place online. He calls them up and orders a large sausage and mushroom pizza for himself. A friendly young woman on the other end says it’ll be there in just ten minutes. Royo sighs in relief and contentment and flops back onto his burgundy leather couch.
Blair and Yolanda are on the cab ride home to Yolanda’s Park Avenue apartment. Yolanda is on the phone with Blair’s flute teacher.
“That just will not work. You must reschedule that recital for the 19th; it’s impossible for her to miss this audition. You don’t understand, we’ve had it arranged for months.”
“Mom, it’s really OK if I miss just one – ”
“Quiet, honey. They’ll fix it. Yes, I understand there are other students scheduled, but my daughter is the First Chair flutist – what exactly do you plan to do without her?”
Royo goes to the door with his wallet, completely forgetting that he was never able to get money at the ATM today, on account of a blonde woman emptying the last of the cash stored in the machine right before him. Royo desperately asks the pizza boy if he can pay by check or credit card. The pizza boy stares at him, then turns and walks away with the pizza, shaking his head, his dreadlocks swinging back and forth. Royo stands in the doorway and watches him go. No cab, no pizza. He needed to get cash soon. He remembers he has some Ramen left in his cabinet.
Yolanda hangs up.
“I told you not to do that.”
“It’s for your own good, darling.
Blair glowers at her mother.
The water is boiling. Royo snips a strip of plastic from the top of the Ramen and goes to pull out the teriyaki flavor packet that isn’t there. He peers into the little red bag. Surely a mistake. Royo shakes the dry noodles from the bag. Empty. Of all the billions of Ramen packages in the world, someone forgot to put in the flavor packet in this one. Royo’s eye twitches.
“Oh, don’t give me that look, young lady. As a Charlotte, you ought to learn this lesson sooner rather than later. It’s important they know who’s in charge. We’re the benefactors in this world; we put food on their table, and they often need to be reminded. Don’t you forget that.”
Blair sighs and rests her head on the cab window.
Royo is running toward his balcony. The screen door is wide open.
He doesn’t think. He jumps to the street below.
Clark Charlotte is half-listening to the news on the 1994 Sanyo television fixed above the bar. An unintentional suicide murder, it is. Some guy jumped from his apartment right into 14th Street. A mother and daughter crushed on impact, but their cab driver is fine.
Clark chuckles, “Good for the cab driver,” and orders another round of drinks.
Clark’s boss laughs, “Hope his register’s running as long as they’re stuck in the cab.” They continue to guffaw at the broadcast, celebrating Clark’s great marketing proposal that afternoon.
It's a simple one, but was fun to make. I read a quote from Laura Laine, this uh-mazing b&w illustrator/fashion designer/artist,"Color is merely an intrusion in the world of art."
I really like painting people. It would be cool to do the art for a murder mystery novel or something, like Disquiet. Hm, new career aspiration? Trying to think up a name for this chick...
