Retention

Pearl necklaces really are beautiful things. Lustrous orbs strung together, a little light shining off of them. Even the fake ones possess quite a beauty. That’s what I saw: a fake, slightly dirty pearl necklace. It was just like the one Melanie used to wear. It looked so pretty on her.

***

In my living room, the sweet sounds of Nat King Cole’s “Darling, Je Vous Aime Beaucoup” drifted through the air. She danced with me. She was a much better dancer. I told her that and she laughed.

“You’re coming along,” she whispered with a smile.

She wore a pearl necklace. It looked good with her dark red dress. I decided to kiss her. I wasn’t going to let her get away.

 ***

I was in Grand Central Terminal, waiting for the 7:04 train to take me back to Connecticut. I had gotten a job helping out in the jewelry district, just something to pay the bills until something better came up. A distraction, basically. I looked around. The clock in the middle of the room glistened with the light of the fake stars above. People’s voices had adopted an echoey quality in the open space.

While I was walking to the dining concourse downstairs, I noticed a ticket lying on the ground. It was to Boston South Station. The strange thing was, trains from Grand Central don’t go to Boston. I wondered how it got there.  Melanie used to love Boston.

***

We were walking through the historic city, right over the Charles River.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked.

“It sure is,” I said. I slipped my arm around her and pulled her close.

“Hey, let go a bit,” she giggled. “I can barely walk.”

“I’m just making sure you don’t blow away or something.”

I slipped my hand into hers. She was so optimistic about the world. I knew that I couldn’t let her get away.

***

I had twenty minutes until my train would be hurtling back to New Haven. From there I would drive my car back to Willimantic, where my silent home would be waiting for me, so still for the past few years. But at that moment I was in the hustle and bustle of Grand Central Station, locked in the clutches of Manhattan. I realised that I hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast.

I got a slice of cheesecake from Junior’s in the dining concourse, went back upstairs, and headed to my platform. The train was waiting with fifteen minutes until departure.

***

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she asked me sharply.

Our train had started moving five minutes before. We had a car mostly to ourselves, and she was in a bad mood.

“You kept pulling me away from wherever I wanted to go. You even got mad at me for talking to our waiter for too long.”

“I was right there. You could’ve talked to me,” I mumbled. I tried to put my arm around her but she pushed me away.

“Leave me alone.”

We were silent for a moment before I spoke.

“Promise me you won’t leave me. Please.”

She glared at me and stormed off into another car. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this. I couldn’t even hold on to her now. I was letting her get away.

***

I boarded the train, tired of these memories. I needed a good night’s sleep.

Melanie was gone. What a loss. Everything I have of hers is tarnished with memory, even her pearl necklace. It was stained dark red with blood.  But, truth be told, at least I didn’t let her get away.