Height of Love Prologue
Hunched forward, the tall slim woman dragged her feet as she made her way into the kitchen. She passed the six flashing lights of the answering machine, oblivious of their presence, and opened the door to the refrigerator. Reaching inside, she pulled out a take-out carton, opened it and sniffed. Scrunching up her face, she set the carton on a pile of dirty dishes loaded on the counter and returned to the refrigerator. She pulled out a plastic drawer and reached in for the carton of eggs. Coming up empty, she sighed and stared at the interior of the refrigerator.
Bending down, she checked the crisper. A spoiled bag of lettuce and two wrinkled tomatoes filled the bottom of the drawer. Opening the second drawer, she leaned in closer and reached for the solitary apple. Taking it out, she carried it to the sink and turned on the tap. Letting the water run over the fruit, she reached out with her left hand, held open two slats of the blinds and quickly let them go when the bright sun flashed in her eyes.
Turning off the tap, she slowly lifted the apple to her mouth and took a bite. Moving towards the kitchen table, she pulled out a chair and sat down, her eyes still blinking from the bright sun. Her mind blank, she sat and slowly consumed the apple. After ten minutes, she placed the core straight up on the table and watched as it fell onto its side. She reached out and set it straight up again. Once more, it fell. She repeated this five more times before getting up and throwing it into the garbage.
Her stomach continued its relentless growling, so she opened the freezer. She pulled out a frozen loaf of bread, grabbed a knife from the block on the sink and sat back down at the table. Opening the wrapping, she pulled out the three last pieces of the loaf. Then she placed the knife down into the crack between the slices of the loaf and applied pressure. The end piece broke loose. She repeated the gesture a second time.
“Ouch,” she said as the knife slipped through her hands and fell to the floor. She lifted her left index finger to her lips and sucked on the warm blood. Getting up, she made her way to the bathroom, slid open a drawer and pulled out a Band-Aid. Reaching for the tap, she turned it on and placed her hand under the water.
After a few minutes, she reached for a facial tissue. Then she removed her hand from the running water and firmly wrapped the tissue around it. A bright red line seeped through the tissue. She took a second tissue, covered the first and then awkwardly used both hands to open the Band-Aid. Applying pressure one last time, she then lifted the tissue and wrapped the Band-Aid around her finger. Next, she reached for the hand towel. Coming up empty, she dried her hands on her bathrobe instead.
After turning off the bathroom light, she stepped into the hallway and looked from left to right. Sighing, she chose to go left. As she entered her room, she passed the cushioned chair loaded with clothes haphazardly draped across both the back and the seating surface. Tripping on the bottom of a pant leg hanging from the chair, she stumbled towards the bed. Righting herself, she turned, then lay down on the rumpled sheets and duvet and closed her eyes.
Three hours later, the woman woke up with a pounding headache. Not wanting to move, she lay there for another twenty minutes. Finally, she sat up and waited until the room stopped spinning. Putting her hand to her forehead, she forced herself to return to the kitchen.
She turned on the tap and filled a glass to the brim with water. Then she pulled out two pills from a bottle in the cupboard, placed them in her mouth and drank the full glass of water. Eyeing the loaf of bread, she picked up the end piece from earlier and took a bite of the dried-out slice. Placing it back on the table, she stood up as she made her way back to the refrigerator and removed a tub of margarine.
Returning to the table, the woman opened the container and frowned when she found it empty. Reaching into the plastic sandwich bag, she pulled out another piece of bread and then dipped it into the margarine tub, running it around the sides until a thin film covered the surface. She nibbled at the bread until her stomach relaxed and stopped its sorrowful tune.
Leaving the clutter from her nourishment on the table, she made her way to the living room and sat down on the loveseat pushing aside the heap of blankets, sweaters and pillows. Picking up the remote control, she flicked through the channels, finally settling on a midday movie already in progress.
RING. RING. RING.
The woman picked up the remote from the side table and pressed the button to turn up the sound of the television.
RING. RING. RING.
The woman’s eyes remained on the television even when the phone rang three more times before going to the answering machine. Then she covered her ears until she was sure the person leaving the message had finished.
The woman was asleep long before the movie ended.
DING. DONG.
The woman blinked and looked at the television. She did not recognize the characters on the screen. Sitting up, she craned her sore neck from side to side and up and down.
DING. DONG.
The woman froze.
DING. DONG.
She turned off the television and waited some more.
DING. DONG.
She closed her eyes. Her eyes shot back open as she heard the sound of a key inserted in the lock.
What? There’s only one person who has keys to my house. The woman’s eyes widened. She leapt to her feet and headed in the direction of the front hall just as the door opened.
“Jennifer? It’s me, Kara. Are you in here?”
Jennifer swallowed hard as she just stared at Kara. No sound escaped from her lips.
“Why is it so dark in here?” Kara’s eyes could just make out Jennifer’s silhouette. “Why didn’t you answer the door?”
“What are you doing here?” Jennifer’s voice came out in a whisper as she backed up.
“You okay if I turn on a light?” Kara reached out and found the switch on the wall. She flicked it to the “on” position.
“I need to go to the bathroom.” Jennifer shot out of the front hall.
Kara put her suitcase down. Then she walked into the living room and turned on the nearest lamp. Her eyes took in the garbage strewn across every surface. There were pizza boxes, half-empty Chinese food containers, assorted coffee-stained mugs and piles of wadded-up facial tissues.
Moving to the kitchen, Kara flicked on another light and gasped. The kitchen looked like a tsunami had hit it. There was not a single speck of table or countertop space available. A terrible mouldy smell mixed with old coffee grains filled the air.
Kara tip-toed past the bathroom and looked into the master bedroom. The same fate that had plagued the rest of the house continued into the bedroom, only this time, the smell of mouldy laundry filled the air. Kara hurried out of the bedroom just as the door of the bathroom creaked open.
“You shouldn’t have come,” came Jennifer’s weak voice.
“Come on out, Jennifer. You know I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
Jennifer opened the door further, and gingerly stepped into the hallway.
Kara took in Jennifer’s severely matted hair, dirty, uneven nails and the assorted food stains dotted across the front of her bathrobe. “I think it’s quite clear that it’s an excellent idea I did come.” Kara reached forward and wrapped her arms around Jennifer’s stiff body, drawing her into a hug.
I only hope I didn’t come too late.