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All his life, Bradley Kenton had lived in Marickville, New York. He was born there in the summer of 1972, and had gone through his entire school years up until college there. He grew up in a suburban neighborhood with his mother, father, and younger sister.
When he was ten, Bradley could remember his father and mother having a terrible argument. Screaming and insults had gone on for hours. Bradley was sitting in his room, on the floor, playing a game of Monopoly with his eight-year-old sister when he heard the door slam. His father left the house to a mysterious place where fathers go when they don’t want to be near family. Later that evening, Bradley and his younger sister put them selves to bed, their mother stayed in her room crying the whole night. On the afternoon of the second day, Bradley came running home from playing with his best friend and saw his mother in the living room crying. She told Bradley it was because she had dropped her favorite teakettle and broke it, but Bradley felt there was more to it.
‘It’s okay Mom, it’s not your fault Dad left. He’ll be home tomorrow, promise.’ Bradley smiled at his mother, and kissed her cheek softly. His mother returned the beautiful boyish smile with her own, and stroked his hair, telling him she hoped so. His mother hugged him tightly, almost hard enough to hurt him. She always gave Bradley long hugs, sometimes for an hour they would sit together and hug. His mother told Bradley it was because he always made her feel better. At the time it seemed like a small statement made by a boy that wished to make his mother feel better.
On the fourth day after Bradley’s father’s disappearance, miraculously, Bradley returned to his home to find his mother and father sitting in the kitchen together, holding hands. He smiled and ran over to his father, wrapping his arms around the burley man and hugged him tightly.
—
During college, Bradley had tough times covering his tuition fees, and was forced to work at a pneumatic farm equipment company. While there were large, important jobs to be handled around the warehouse, Bradley was the office janitor, and yard keeper. The majority of the business’s sales were from other cities and states, so there were hardly any customers who entered the office. Bradley merely cleaned because the boss was kind and believed Bradley needed help with money. Along with cleaning the office, he had to clean weeds and prune bushes in the front and back of the business’s large warehouse. Bradley didn’t mind manual labor, and he never worked very hard there. He also worked nights at a cafe in Alfred. He bussed tables and did some light cooking, nothing he was very proud of. But, it got him some small tips, and more wages to save for school. The jobs paid enough for him to scrape through college and get his degree in English.
All through his attendance at Alfred University, Bradley dated a girl named Carol. Carol Bergen had been the best thing that had happened to him since self-independence from his home. She was short, just over five feet, and had long dark brown hair. Her eyes were a soft brown that made Bradley melt every time she looked angrily at him for something wrong he had done. She had a soft giggle that would always make Bradley smile, and her kiss was always soft and warm, even in the freezing New York winter weather. Since his third year in college, until the last few months before he graduated, he thought he would marry Carol. He seemed perfect for him, and he thought he was perfect for her. Six weeks before he was to graduate and go back home, Carol dumped him. Her reasoning was she had found a new guy that was perfect for her, she told Bradley the guy just appeared out of nowhere, and they immediately fell in love.
She had said it so matter-of-factly, and did not even want to discuss it. Two days later, Carol had left the university. Bradley had a hard time coping. For days he sat in his room sulked, had crying fits and his mind slipped into a constant state of depression. Every morning he woke up, it seemed like it worse than the day before, meaning every day was the worst day of his life. He missed almost over a week of every class, and barely even ate any food. Finally his roommate forced him to get up and go to class, literally and physically dragging him out of bed, harping that he would regret it for the rest of his life if he let Carol ruin him.
The tail end of Bradley’s college career was a disaster. He could never get Carol off his mind. Everything he saw and heard seemed to make sense, and add to his misery. Everyone he saw seemed to have a perfect match, except for him. His finals did not go over well, he studied hard, and tried to retain as much as he could, but loneliness slowly crept in eventually, and he was unable to concentrate. He even tried meditation and other spiritual practices, but in the end he still could not get the break up off of his mind. During his final exams he became a nervous wreck, he would shake and quiver while he read the test papers, and would jot down answers, knowing they were only educated guesses at best. When it was finally over, Bradley was unsure if he would even graduate. He had a last minute meeting with his counselor, and found that he had barely inched his way through, and would luckily receive a diploma with his name on it.
—
After college ended, Bradley quit his two jobs, and returned home to his family for a few months. Ever since after the major fight happened when Bradley was ten, his parents were in love like teenagers. And when he returned home, he found it to be no different. They cared for each other almost as much as they cared for their two children. Bradley’s sister had gone off to college herself, and was doing leaps and bounds better than Bradley had done. So Bradley had his parents to himself, which wasn’t completely terrible, but also wasn’t the greatest situation. He found part time work at his father’s industry site, helping out in the office. This time he did the actual paperwork and made phone calls, instead of taking out the garbage and vacuuming floors. A more sophisticated employment for a young man with a bachelor’s degree.
—
On an early March day, Bradley was walking down 23rd toward home. He liked to walk home from work and people watch while he went through the center of town. Since he got off in the evening, and it was March in New York, he normally stopped to get a cup of coffee and a muffin at his favorite coffee shop called Maestro’s. Bradley had no idea why the owner called it that, although the owner was Italian. He was a large, round-bellied man with balding gray hair. He always dressed in a pair of dark slacks, a white oxford shirt, with a white apron over it. Bradley always went there with a smile on his face, and greeted the owner happily, and asked how his wife was. The man was never tired of talking about her, especially to Bradley. Bradley, of course, was never tired of hearing about her.
Bradley pulled his hands from the pockets of his slacks, and pushed open the glass door to Maestro’s, the small ‘Open’ sign bounced on the glass softly. Inside the small shop was warmly lit, casting a golden reflection onto the cold cement of the sidewalk out front. The shop was very slim, and very long. Like a studio apartment in San Francisco. It was decorated with old newspaper clippings from the early 1900’s, most of them from the New York Times. When Bradley was in the coffee shop, he felt like it was 1920 again. The walls were brown, and the floor was dark brown as well. Immediately to the right of the entrance was a long bar, where the owner stood with a broad smile across his face. He was usually wiping the counter while he talked to one of his older friends who were constantly at the store. The bar had a long leather pad around the front edge so customers had something to lean his elbows on. In front of the bar, there were tall stools with leather seats, and polished wooden legs. Behind the bar, was the wall and counter where
the coffee mugs sit, as well as the coffee machines, cappuccino machines, and every other form of anything coffee. Across the room, to the left of the entrance, there were a long row of assembled tables and chairs for customers to sit. Overhead hanging in the middle of the shop, were large ceiling fans for when New York’s hot summers began to cook the entire state. The store always smelled of fresh coffee, the overwhelming scent of roasting beans. Bradley entered, and looked around, taking a deep breath as he always did. To his left, an older man was sitting at one of the tables reading a newspaper while he sipped his coffee as if it were alcohol.
‘Good evening Tony! How’s business?’ Bradley exclaimed, while walking up the counter. Tony was wiping the bar down with a cloth as usual, and looked up, smiling when he saw Bradley enter.
‘Bradley my boy! Business is excellent, couldn’t be better. How’s your family, son?’ Tony walked turned to the counter behind the bar and began making the same order Bradley had every time he came.
‘They are wonderful Tony,’ Bradley smiled, setting his hands on the counter as he sat on a stool. ‘My sister is off at college, and he is a scholar, getting all straight ‘A’s’, I think.’
‘Excellent, good for her. Good for her.’ Tony had a habit of repeating statements a lot. Just part of his nature. He had never met Bradley’s family, but that wasn’t the point.
‘How’s your wife Tony? Still young and beautiful?’ Bradley asked.
‘Ah! She’s still gorgeous young Bradley.’ Tony turned back to the counter, setting Bradley’s coffee and muffin onto the bar. A bright light in his eyes was showing that he had practically been waiting to talk about her with Tony. ‘She made the most beautiful little crochet last night. She’s been working on it for months. She’s also making a dress for my granddaughter’s school dance next week.’ He smiled and laughed, feeling his balding hair. ‘She’s always working on a bunch of little projects.’ Bradley smiled, and patted Tony on the shoulder, looking into his eyes.
‘You have a choice wife, Tony. I hope I can be as lucky as you when I get married.’ Bradley smiled at the man, picking up his muffin and coffee.
‘Oh nonsense.’ Tony replied. ‘With your young looks you should be having women lined up to date you. You’ll find a wife before you know it.’ On his way out the door, Bradley pointed to the old man, smiling.
‘I hope you’re right Tony. I hope you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Bradley turned out the door, and took a sip of his coffee, walking down the sidewalk. He looked across the street, where an Italian restaurant filled half the block. People were outside eating and talking together, smiling and being happy. Bradley smiled, watching for a moment, and continued on his way.
– –
The next day Bradley would never forget. Bradley was on the subway heading toward the factory to begin his work day. He stood alone in the middle of the train car, his right hand clasping a hand hold. The train bumped and rocked along down the tracks, and Bradley’s nose was pointed down at his morning news paper, reading the comics. He smiled to himself, lifting his head slightly as he thought about the Doonbury joke he read, when his eyes spotted an angel on the train. Due to her surprising beauty, Bradley’s eyes were deceived, as he thought the woman had the wings of an angel. He blinked a few times slowly, looking over the woman’s soft features. She was sitting a few benches down from where he was, reading a small book. The book was cradled in her small hands, her knit gloves holding the covers open.
The girl had soft, shiny, short, black hair, her face was like porcelain. She had an over all softness to her that Bradley had never seen before. While the train rocked and clacked along the tracks, Bradley couldn’t help but stare over at her, not wanting to miss a movement of her eyes. She did not notice him, she was concentrating on her book. Whoever she was, she had beautiful style, as well as stunning looks. She had on a black wool coat the reached down to her knees, with a gray shirt underneath, and black pants and boots to match. Bradley lowered the hand that held his paper, no longer interested with what was happening in Pakistan. He had to meet this girl. If he never found out her name, he would not be able to live with himself.
When the train came to a stop, Bradley kept an eye on the girl, and saw she was getting off at 23rd and Richton. Bradley reached into his blazer pocket and fished out his cell phone, exiting off the train. He called his father’s office and told him he would be running late this morning. His father lectured him about how much work needed finishing, Bradley hardly listened. He was following behind the girl he had seen on the train. When Bradley folded up his cell phone and slipped it back into his pocket, he saw the girl turn the corner onto 24th. Bradley noticed there was a rose salesman standing on the corner of Richton. He smiled happily and ran over to buy a rose quickly. Then he trotted to the other side of 24th, and headed off the girl he’d seen on the train. When he turned right to walk back toward 23rd, she was walking right toward him, but wasn’t looking at him. She hadn’t seen him, or noticed him on the train. Bradley straightened his wool coat, and walked toward her. In the icy March weather, Bradley’s palms began to get sweaty, and his heart pounded so hard it sounded like an explosion every time it beat. Bradley sucked in a small breath, forcing his feet to keep moving. She looked even more beautiful when she walked. Like a supermodel walking down the runway of the rural streets of Marickville. Her silky black hair bounced slightly, and her eyes were hidden by a pair of dark purple sunglasses she was wearing. Her glove covered hands were held softly inside the front pockets of her black coat. When she was only a few steps away, Bradley forced himself to take a breath, counted quickly to three, and stepped right in front of her.
‘Good morning.’ Bradley started, the girl stopped and looked up at him. Her slender chin tilted up so she could see his eyes, and Bradley presented the rose before her. ‘I bought this for you.’
‘For me?’ She replied, she seemed nervous. As most any girl would be when a strange man approached her on a busy street. Bradley nodded and handed it to her slowly.
‘I saw you on the train, and…I…Uh’ Bradley began to shake slightly. He swallowed and rubbed his fingertips against his palms, his thoughts screaming for him mouth to get a grip. ‘I just wanted to know your name.’
‘It’s Jennie.’ She smiled, and lifted the rose, smelling it slightly. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Bradley. Bradley Kenton.’ He scratched his head slightly, and made himself stop, not wanting to show how nervous he was to simply be around her. He caught a soft scent of her hair, and his eyes blinked slowly as a reflex. ‘I thought you seemed like a very nice person, and I was wondering if you’d like to go to lunch sometime. Or dinner…coffee…anything.’ She smiled, looking at the rose, and then back at Bradley again.
‘That’s so sweet of you. I’m sorry, but I have a boyfriend.’ She replied, giving him a downhearted look. Bradley nodded and looked down at the ground briefly.
‘Of course you do, but he’s…’ Bradley stopped himself. Bradley could have told her the boyfriend’s name, where he was today, and how he was cheating on her with a woman he had met at his office. But he knew it would be daft to tell her how her own relationship would end. Bradley himself was unsure how he knew all these things, they just popped into his head when he looked into her eyes.
‘He’s a lucky man. I doubt he understands what he has. Would it be okay if I just left you a number? So you could call me if things didn’t work out?’ Bradley reached into his coat, and pulled out his wallet. He held out a card for her, hoping she would take it. To his surprise, she took the card, and looked at it.
‘That would be okay.’
She said, and tucked the card into her pocket. ‘If things don’t work out between us, I’ll give you a call and maybe you can cheer me up.’ She smiled and told Bradley she was thankful for the rose, and went on her way.
For a few moments, Bradley watched her walk down the sidewalk. He knew in three days she would walk into her boyfriends apartment and hear soft whimpering noises coming from the bedroom. Bradley closed his eyes and swallowed over the lump in his throat, seeing her broken heart through her eyes as she pushed the bedroom door open to see her boyfriend in bed with a much more beautiful woman. Blonde, slender hips, larger breasts, she was everything her boyfriend had always said he’d wanted Jennie to be.
Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and let out a deep breath, making a puff of steam in the cold weather. He turned and made his way back to the train station. It would be another twenty-five minutes before the next train came, but Bradley didn’t mind.
– –
On the third day after he had met Jennie, Bradley’s head pounded all day. He had a headache worse than he had ever had before. Throughout his entire day of work Bradley tried to do things to keep his mind off his throbbing skull. First he tried thinking of Jennie, and what she had said to him when they had met, but he found whenever he brought her into his thoughts, his headache got worse. So he decided to just concentrate on his work, and try to ignore the pain as much as he could.
Just before lunch, Bradley’s father knocked on the door frame of Bradley’s office softly and poked his head in.
‘Hi son, working hard?’ His father asked, his eyes drifting over his son’s office. Bradley looked up and forced a smile to his father, nodding slightly.
‘Yeah, just trying to get a few more orders all ready before lunch.’ Bradley touched his head, kneading the place that hurt the most slowly. His father noticed the pain in his eyes.
‘You okay? Have a headache?’ he asked. Bradley nodded, looking down at his papers again.
‘I met a girl yesterday, and thinking about her has made my head hurt.’ Bradley’s father laughed, leaning against the doorjamb.
‘Maybe you should stay away from her then.’ His father smiled, crossing his arms. His expression grew serious, and he looked over his son lovingly. ‘You used to get those headaches when you were little. I’m sure it will pass if you take something and have a nap. Maybe you should go home early today.’ Bradley nodded silently, thinking for a moment.
‘Maybe I should.’ He replied.
His father left the office, after telling Bradley he was going to Tino’s if he wanted to join. For a moment after his father was gone Bradley stared at the papers arranged all over his desk. He let out a long sigh, and began typing on his computer again. Slowly he worked the papers into a respectable pile, and decided to leave it for the next day.
He got up from his desk, grabbed his coat and gloves, and shrugged them both on, walking out of his office. While he walked, Bradley watched the ground passing underneath his feet, thinking about things that were important to him. Phil Maher greeted him in the hallway, wearing his hard hat and boots. Phil worked in the loading dock, he and Bradley were friends during high school. Not close, dear friends, but they hung around together periodically.
‘Bradley, what’s happening?’ Phil smiled at him, looking at Bradley passed the brim of his hard hat.
‘Hey Phil,’ Bradley replied, ‘going home early. I have a nasty headache. You’re not working to hard are ya?’ Phil laughed sincerely, as if he seriously thought it funny that he would work hard.
‘Hell no man, working too hard is what makes you old,’ Phil replied.
‘I guess so. Hey, buy your wife some flowers tonight okay? She’ll love it, I promise.’ Bradley said, walking backward toward the exit. Phil thought about it for a moment, and gave a slightly nod.
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