Ch. 3: Meander

The smell of fabric softener tickles my nose as I slam my shoulder into the grimy glass door of the laundromat and awkwardly maneuver through the opening. I sneeze into the basket. Damnit. I’ve always hated doing laundry. The major downside to the apartment is the lack of a washer and dryer. Every time I have to pile all my dirty clothes into my car and drag them off to some dingy place filled with a bunch of bored housewives and old tabloid magazines, I miss being back home. Mom always did my laundry.

The basket is broken on one side, so jabs me viciously in the ribs as I prop it on my hip and open the rear door of my car. I throw it roughly into the back seat as a bit of revenge, then slam the door and head for the driver’s seat, muttering random words of dissatisfaction. I hate doing chores alone. Lily was supposed to come with me today, but when it was time for us to go she begged to stay behind because the house was empty and she wanted to dance. I let her stay; I knew she’d sulk the entire time if I made her go. So, the whole trip had been vastly boring.

I slide into the driver’s seat and dig through my CD collection to find appropriate music to drive home with. Since it is about rush hour, I choose something odd that I can use to unsettle my fellow traffic-jammers. Watching other people try and figure out what the hell I am listening to is an amusing way to pass the time. I pop Deep Forest’s self-titled album into my CD player and adjust the equalizers to make it come through well on my speakers. My laundry spills over in the backseat as I pull swiftly out into traffic, and I see a pair of underwear fly by in my rear-view mirror. It’s a good thing I kept the rear windows closed. The last thing I want to do is sprinkle the street with my lingerie.

Luckily, this part of town isn’t all jammed up yet, so I should be able to get back to the apartment earlier than I expected. I turn up the music to a level that makes it clearly, yet not annoying audible, lean back, and put one arm out the window. The muggy breeze tangles my hair and sends it to stick to my lip-gloss. It’s not quite hot enough to shut myself into the car with the AC, so I pull it back at a stoplight and try to ignore the attentions my bangs are giving my eyes.

I catch up to traffic about ten minutes from home. It’s backed up because genius people keep pulling into the middle of the intersection when there’s no room for them on the other side. Right now three cars that got caught trying to make a left turn have completely blocked things up, and the guy to my right is hanging out the window and telling the offending cars what he thinks of their mothers. I smile to myself and turn my music up a bit louder.

Time slows down while we wait for the mess up ahead to get straightened out. I watch the guy in the red sports car behind me to keep myself entertained. He’s sitting straight, head turned toward the girl in the passenger seat. He has a strong nose. They’re both talking animatedly about something. I figure that they’re dating because of their body language. She keeps smiling and tilting her head to show her long, silky blonde hair off to the best advantage. That color can’t be real. And how the hell is she keeping it from frizzing in this humidity? I feel a rather upsetting flash of hatred towards her. I’ve always despised my hair.

He leans over and gives her a kiss that makes me feel uncomfortable to watch. I turn my head away and look at the loud angry man to my right. He’s back in his seat, on his cell phone, fuming at the person on the other end. I wonder when he’ll calm down and accept the inevitable. His hair is grey at the temples, though he looks rather young. He seems like someone who is perpetually stressed out.

The first notes of “Savanna Dance” spill from my speakers, and I feel a gentle throb in my stomach as the bass kicks in. Relaxing into my seat, I close my eyes and listen for a little while. More people should see traffic as not an obstacle, but as an opportunity to listen to good music. It would probably make traffic less jammed up because people wouldn’t be so impatient.

A horn sounds from behind and I open my eyes. Less impatient these people are not. Traffic has inched forward, and the guy two cars back is mad that no one in my lane is pulling up. I don’t get that. You’re not actually getting any closer. The light is still red. I guess he’s the kind of person who likes the illusion of progress. I scoot my car forward obligingly and stare amusedly into my rearview mirror, trying to catch a glimpse of him, but the head of the driver behind me is decidedly in the way .

Wait. Where is the blonde?

My eyes focus back on the front seat of the red car. The girl is nowhere in sight. The guy is no longer talking. His arms are behind his head, and his eyes are shut. There’s a contented smile on his face. A very contented smile.
No way. No fucking way.

I tear my eyes away from the mirror and giggle to myself. I’m jumping to conclusions. Maybe she’s lying down. I glance back up at the mirror. Her seatback is still up.
…Okay, so maybe. I keep glancing involuntarily in the mirror through the next Deep Forest song. No sign of her. Then he looks down at his lap, grins sleazily, and says something.

The blonde’s head pops back up like a flash, and I see her glare at him. They spend
the rest of their time in traffic behind me in silence. She stays pressed as far away from him as she can get, eyes determinedly glued to the window, and he stares straight ahead with both hands on the wheel. I laugh merrily to myself, wanting to call Lily and tell her what I just saw, but I decide to wait. There is no way she’ll believe me no matter when I tell her.

Traffic moves forward again, and I pull up before the guy behind the red car gets horn-happy. The people in the left turn lane were actually behaving well, so traffic isn’t as backed up as it had been. I figure I’ll be through the intersection in another three minutes.

The car’s interior is starting to heat up from lack of circulation. My bangs are now sticking to my face, and I’m getting impatient despite myself. I skip back to my favorite song and try to stay relaxed. The cars in the lane to the left of me are moving up again, which means that I’ll be able to go next. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a new car stop next to me on my left just as the volume of my music surges unexpectedly.

What the hell?

Looking to my right, I see the angry man giving me an odd, unhappy look, so I reach to turn it down. My stereo has never done that before. I hope it isn’t going screwy.
As I turn the volume knob to the left, something interesting happens. My right ear tells me that the song has gotten quieter, but my left ear tells me it is as loud as it was. I turn my head confusedly to look at the car next to me. It takes a few seconds to register why my speakers seem to be playing at unequal volumes. The young man in the turn lane is listening to Deep Forest.

Same album, same track, same fucking second as I am.

He doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but he does notice me looking at him, and turns his head. Jesus. It’s the dark-haired, green-eyed guy from the bookstore. They widen noticeably as he realizes we’re listening to the same music. I feel a surge of adrenaline as we stare at each other unblinkingly for an indeterminate amount of time. There is no way he could recognize me, but he does seem to understand how highly fucking unlikely it is for our music to be doing this. To put it mildly. What are the chances of either of us finding another moron stuck in traffic listening to pygmy chant techno? This is quite possibly the weirdest coincidence I have ever been a victim of.

A horn sounds behind me and I tear my eyes away. The light is green, and I’m holding up traffic. I pull into the intersection. I can see him staring after me in the rear-view mirror. I grip the wheel shakily.

A sudden wave of claustrophobia hits me as I finish the drive home. What are the chances of that happening? It wasn’t just a matter of the two of us putting the CD in at the exact same moment and ending up next to each other in that intersection. Oh no. We both had to know that band existed. We both had our windows down. We both had to be in the same part of a loud and crowded city. I skipped around on the CD, so unless he did, too, there is no way we started listening at the same time. And to get the tracks to line up to the second? This was more than just a coincidence. It was fucking surreal. Things like this don’t happen. Blocks of ice can come out of nowhere and crush houses. I’m willing to believe that. But to have so many thousands of little details line up to pull this off? That’s just terrifying.
I need a drink in a bad way.

*  *  *  *  * 

Heather and Chloe arrive home from shopping to find Lily laughing hysterically on the living room floor under the couch.
“Chris, what the hell did you do to her?” Heather asks as they enter the kitchen.
“Oh, right, it’s my fault when she does something weird. I watched her crawl under there a few minutes ago.” I smile innocently.
Heather narrows her eyes at me. “Is she on drugs?”
Chloe looks through the door at her. “Is she stuck?”

Lily’s laugher gets louder, and I can hear her trying to speak, so I translate. “No, and I hope not. I just told her a story.”
A gasp reaches our ears from under the couch. “So- sad! Didn’t- go….Damnit!” and then more laughter.
Chloe sits down at the kitchen table and looks at Lily warily. “Should, um…someone help her out?”
I shake my head. “She’ll get out when she wants to.”

Heather grabs a Sprite and sits down with Chloe. “So what did you tell her?”
I move to the cabinets and grab a sleeve of cookies, then stick my head in the fridge. “I got stuck in a traffic jam today. It was rather interesting.”
Lily’s laughter surges again, and I hear the couch slide slightly on the wooden floor as she tries to roll over. Chloe stares out the door in amazement.
I tell the girls what I had told Lily about the couple in the little red car. Heather accidentally inhales her soda while laughing, so Chloe asks the obvious question.
“What do you think he said?”
Heather giggles fizzily and recovers enough to choke out “You’re not as good as my mom!”
A shriek of pain sounds from beneath the couch. “Hurts to laugh! My face! For the love of God, stop! Ow!”

I pour a glass of juice, go to the living room, and crouch down on the floor, gazing under the couch at my best friend. “Look Lily. Juice!” I set it down on the hardwood.
A hand reaches towards me. “Gimme!” I hear Chloe mutter from the kitchen. “Jesus, she’s like the monster I was afraid of when I was three.”
I keep my hand on the juice so it doesn’t spill. “Come out and you can have some, Lily.”

A rustling of clothes signals her emergence from the gloom. Her head and one arm appear from under the couch before she collapses.
“Come out all the way and I’ll tell you the rest of the story.”
She looks up at me. “I’m dying.”
“I’ll tickle.” I smile toothily.
“I’m fine!” She scrambles out, and I hand her the juice. She sucks the cup dry in seconds. I head back to the kitchen, and she follows.

Heather stares at me and Lily, clearly awed at what has just transpired. “You are going to be an amazing mom.”
I shrug. “Hopefully not for a few more years. Anyway. You’ll never believe what else happened.”
Lily sulks into her empty glass. “I am so mad I didn’t go with you,” she mutters.
I can’t help but feel a little smug at that. Rubbing in what she missed is definitely making up for the absolute suck that was the Laundromat.
Heather hands me a Coke. “So tell us the rest. What did they do next, screw?”
“No, thankfully. It’s not about them.” I open the can and wipe a spray of fizz off my cheek. “Guess who I saw today.”

Lily scowls. “If it’s that dumb blonde guy I am going back under the couch.”
I laugh. “No, it was that guy who made off with all the books. He was in the car right next to me.”
I tell them about the weird thing that happened with the music. Lily stares at me in amazement. “I thought you were the only person that liked that crap.”
Chloe blinks a few times. “Literally playing at the exact same time?”
“Yeah, at first I thought my speakers were borked.”
“That’s so cool.”
“I’m not sure what I think it is. Coincidences like that are very good at creeping me out.”

Heather laughs. “This is like something that would happen in a book. You know, fate.”
I roll my eyes at her. “Don’t buy the wedding presents just yet. I haven’t even met the guy.”
“I like wedding cake.” Lily grins at me.
“I am so glad I have your blessing, dear.” I take another sip of Coke. This has been such a weird day. I plan to take a bath tonight to try to relax and feel like I’m living in the real world again.