Dakota View

Dakota View

By Circe

Alice waits at the park entrance across from F.A.O. Schwarz, smoking
her trademark vanilla flavored cigar, absentmindedly watching the
dog-owners out for the pre-dinner stroll. She tucks her chin tighter
into her burgundy cashmere scarf and wonders why November sunsets
always seem to e the most colorful when the temperature gets below
freezing. She wishes Joel would get there soon because she's tired of
waiting for him in the cold.

There he comes, blown around the corner by a stray gust of wind. His
open coat flaps around him, turning him into an enormous black kite,
ready for take-off. Alice imagines a Jolly Roger painted on his back
and laughs to herself. When he sees her smoking, his cruel, beautiful
mouth registers disappointment.

"You really shouldn't, Alice," he says in greeting.

"There's a lot of things I shouldn't do, but that's what makes them
fun. You shouldn't be here either, for that matter. How much time have
we got? Where does Brenda think you are?" asks Alice, snuffing her
cigar on the pavement. She resists the urge to tell him to do up his
coat; that would be skating too close to Brenda's territory.

"We'll have dinner. I told her I had to work late. Enough Brenda, ok?
Let's walk a while, it's gorgeous weather. Hook in, I like to walk arm
in arm with you, " he says taking her arm. He hums the tune to the
Beatles "Strawberry Fields" and Alice knows where they're
heading.

Even his humming is good. It mellows Alice and she smiles from under
her amber crushed velvet cloche. They walk under the lavender sky,
between black, almost bare silhouettes of trees, along the empty
skating rink and she slips her right hand into his coat pocket.

"Mmm, Reeses, can I have one?" she asks.

""They were bought specially for you."

"Sweet."

"Aargh! Very punny, Alice!"

"Gimme one, I'm starved!"

Joel stops to retrieve the candy and takes off the orange wrapper
devilishly slow. He eats his peanut butter cup first, letting Alice
just stand there, watching, with water in her mouth.

"C'mon Joel, let me have mine!"

"Ok, close your eyes," he says.

When she does, he puts the chocolate close to her lips. She opens her
eyes and he snatches it away.

"Not fair!"

"Nope, I want a kiss first."

"Candy first, kiss later, " she replies, turning her back to him. He
caves in and gives her the candy. She eats it as slowly as she can,
savoring both bites.

"Now my kiss."

Joel waits with his arms clasped behind his back, tapping his foot on
the cracked macadam path.

Alice puts her right arm around his waist, pulls herself in close,
looks up adoringly, and then flicks her right leg to kick him playfully
in the backside.

"Tag! You're it!" yells Alice as she runs off, heading down the
darkening path toward Strawberry Fields and the memorial that asks
everyone to "imagine..." Bronze beech leaves scatter behind her. When
she runs off the footpath, the leaves swirl and seem to whisper
"temptresssss".

"Alice, what's with you?" Joel asks, laughing, not heeding the leaves'
warning and running after her.

"Catch me if you can, Joel-the-Troll. I'm your three billy goats gruff
trip-trapping over your bridge!"

Joel's pointy black designer boots make for bad traction and he tumbles
down a hill. He hears her laughing then catches sight of her just
ahead, under a street lamp, balancing like a ballerina on tiptoe on the
footbridge railing. He's sure his ankle is sprained and wonders how
he's going to explain the grass stains to Brenda.

"Alice, c'mon down. You're going to break your neck. Enough's enough
already."

Alice blows a raspberry, pirouettes off the bridge and runs off the
path even farther ahead. Her footfalls rustle through the leafy carpet,
snapping twigs, but then there is silence and he cannot track her sound
any more. The darkling creeps squiggle around the base of Joel's spine.
He doesn't like being alone, under nightfall in Central Park. He thinks
he ought to go home, to dinner and Brenda. Too scared to run any
further into the darkness on his own, he limps along the lit path,
toward the exit. Every few steps, he calls for Alice but she doesn't
answer. When he reaches the gate, he gives one last call.

"Alice---where are you? Come on out! I'm tired, hungry, hurt and I'm
sick of this game!"

No reply. He shrugs his shoulders, turns and limps out of the park
alone.

When he is well and truly gone, Alice, who is standing behind a tree,
close to the exit, lights another of her cigars and dares
whisper,

"So am I Joel, so am I."