Umbrella Man

         Rain seemed ceaseless.
         It seemed the sun had become ashamed of the earth, hiding behind a curtain of clouds, instead of gazing upon it.
         And it seemed that everyone would soon forget what the sun looked like.
         Susan sat on the bus. She brushed a few strands of her shoulder length brown hair out of her face while she stared out the window. The rain blurred the passing scenery, until people and trees were indistinguishable from each other. Susan couldn’t tell whether she was looking at a dog or fire hydrant. The bus rolled to a stop beside passengers. The doors creaked open and a parade of people entered. Click, click, announced each person as they paid. One man’s hair was in hot pink spikes that nearly brushed the ceiling of the bus as he entered. Another man ascended the stairs with an umbrella in his hand. He glanced around and took the available seat beside Susan.
         He sat, not saying a word or even glancing in Susan’s direction. Susan, on the other hand, couldn’t keep her blue gray eyes off him. She sized the man up. His face appeared young, but looked old and tired at the same time to her. The man wore a black trench coat. His blue eyes were almost transparent and had far away gaze to them. She couldn’t tell if he was bald or not because he wore a hat.
         “Do I know you?” she asked, squinting her eyes as she spoke.
         The man’s answer was a pointed finger to the front of the bus. They had reached her stop. Susan grabbed her things and followed the man with the umbrella off the bus. Shivering in the rain, she smiled at the man and shrugged her shoulders. “Forgot my umbrella,” she said adding “again,” under her breath.
         His response was to open his umbrella and hold it over her, shielding her from the rain.
         “You don’t—”
         The man put a finger to his lips.
         “Thank you.” She began the short walk to the computer company where she worked.
         Susan stood in a crowd, waiting for the sign to display the bright white letters that spelled “WALK,” that would of course, change to the orange letters of “DON’T WALK,” before they made it halfway. She looked at the man with the umbrella again, but he pointed ahead towards the crowd. Most of them were already halfway across. She ran to catch up before the bright letters of “WALK” could disappear.
Once across, Susan realized that the rain had begun to assault her. She looked across the sea of people in hopes of catching a glimpse of the man who for a moment kept her dry, but he was gone, vanished into the crowd.
         Susan arrived at the weathered brick building that proclaimed Wagasa Industries in dull and peeling paint. The electric doors opened. Huddling in the lobby, she attempted to warm up.
         “Hey Sue, forgot your umbrella again?” Dameon said. He stood a good eight inches taller than her five feet seven inches. He leaned over just to meet her eyes, smiling at the fact that her hair was plastered to her head and that her mascara had started to run a little.
         “Would you expect anything less?” Susan looked up and smiled at her friend and noticed that his brown hair was already falling into his face.
         “No, if you had remembered, I would have thought the world was going to end.” He laughed, “I got you something.”
         “Why?” Susan asked as he produced a blood red rose from behind his back.
         “Why not? I give you one every year in remembrance,”
         “Dameon, come on.” Susan shook her head at the disappointed look on her friend’s face.
         “You should go out with me tonight. You haven’t been out in months.”
         Susan rolled her eyes in response and smoothed out her blue peasant skirt. They walked over to the elevator and Dameon pressed the button for the third floor. The ride to the second floor was a quiet one. After the doors opened, Susan hiked toward her desk. On it, the word secretary emblazoned on a brass nameplate was placed beside a dish of Dove Dark Chocolates. Pens and pencils nestled together in a white mug ‘World’s Best Secretary’ wrapped around the side, another gift from Dameon. That day, she felt that the words were a lie. Papers strewn about her desk had not yet found their way to the proper salesperson. Trash from lunches the week before had not yet found their way to the trashcan. Susan had to refrain from swiping everything into it.
         A picture of her father hid in the mess. He held a tiny version of Susan in his arms. Taken the day you were born, she remembered her mother saying. “Happy birthday, Dad,” she said.
         “Sue? You ok?” Dameon asked placing a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s nothing,”
         Dameon spun Susan around and met her eyes “Are you sure?”
         “I’m sure,” Susan answered.
         “Really?” he said.
         “Yes,”
         “Come on, Sue.”
         “You know what?” Susan started. “You know what? I’ll tell you what’s wrong. It should be my father’s birthday. I should be happy right now, planning on spending the rest of the day with my parents.”
         Dameon sighed. “I know how it is to lose someone close to me too. My brother Colin is no longer with us, remember?”
         “I know, but please leave me alone; I need to get to work.”
         Dameon removed his hand, and kept one eye on Susan, as he dragged his feet to his desk. He walked past the desks placed in clusters or teams as the boss called it, populated most of the space in the office. Teams were broken up into threes, two desks facing each other and one desk pressed up against the end of the two. There were 4 teams, one team stood empty. Dameon ignored the two people that were glued to their computer screens and almost ran into the intern who had a cup of coffee in her hand. The clacking of keyboards made up the white noise of the office. A few talked on the phone with clients while they sipped steaming cups of fresh brewed coffee. Inspirational posters that proclaimed “DETERMINATION” “ACHIVEMENT” and “SUCCESS” hung on the walls in pathetic attempts to make the office a more welcoming place. No windows, but someone decided to at one point to paint a window on the wall beside their desk to add some ‘natural’ lighting. Dameon sat down and logged on to his computer.
         Susan sat down and began to tap her fingers on her desk, then looked at her father’s picture. “Why did you leave?”

***

         The rain fell, drenching those who forgot their umbrellas. Susan shivered beside her mother as the procession began. The young girl struggled to read her mother’s face, but it remained hidden under a dark veil.
         “Where’s Daddy?” Susan asked.
         “Oh sweetie.” Susan’s mother hugged her tightly. “It’ll be ok.”
         The procession trudged up a lush green hill, toward a tall elm tree at the top. The mourners gathered around a mahogany coffin. A minister stood at the head of the mourners, a brown leather bible in his hand.
         “Today we put to rest, Elijah Beckett, a loving husband, friend and father…”
         Susan started trembling. “Daddy?”
         Her mother shook her head. “Daddy’s gone.”
         “Gone where?” Susan wrenched her hand from her mother’s tight grasp. “I’ll go find him,”
         “Susan wait,” her mother called, but the words didn’t reach Susan. She had already stumbled to the bottom of the hill, squinting through the thick curtain of rain. Hardly noticing the raindrops falling on her head, her attention focused on a cloaked figure, umbrella in hand, and staring up at the grassy hill. The little girl stood there getting wetter by the minute, her blue eyes shimmering.
         “Daddy?” Susan cried out, running towards him. The man smiled at the tiny girl. He held the umbrella over her head. They stood side by side, gazing up at the mourners at the top of the hill, neither saying a word. The man pointed up towards the hill where Susan’s mother was racing down.
         “Susan,” she said, “Oh Susan.” With her hands outstretched, she scooped Susan into arms.
The figure winked at Susan and walked away, melting into the rain.

***

         “Susan?” An older man, with a trim white beard, wearing a loud yellow tie and shirt to match, rolled his eyes at her.
         “Oh, sorry, Nick,” Susan said, rubbing her forehead.
         “You didn’t answer me,” he said.
         “What was the question again?” Susan asked.
         “Do you have the contract for Alice and me?” Nick asked, eyeing the mini Mount Everest of papers on her desk.
         “Oh,” she said, “yeah.” She shuffled through some papers, and found them hiding underneath an old cup of ramen noodles.
         “Here you go.” Susan sighed, and looked passed Nick at Dameon.
         “You need help,” he mouthed.
         Nick drifted away not even breathing a word of thanks.
         Seeing his chance, Dameon sauntered back up to Susan’s desk. She stared at her friend. He wore a pale blue dress shirt. We match today. Susan thought.
         “Come on, you, me, lunch at the Comfort Cup,” he said.
         “Don’t you have computers to sell?” Susan looked down at her desk and began to play with the silver chain of her necklace.
         “Lunch if you’re up to it.” He winked and lay the rose at the edge of her desk, beside the candy dish. Susan watched Dameon grab his umbrella. He winked. Out the door. Gone.
Susan watched as a few of her fellow co-workers migrated to the tiny break room. Two followed Dameon’s example and left for lunch dates while a couple sat at their desks to eat their homemade lunches. Her stomach growled, but she ignored it. Instead, she focused her attention on the intern. Sitting up straight, she would take dainty bites of her salad. I wish I could look like her, Susan thought. One of the guys hadn’t even touched his food, but was staring at the intern. Susan looked down at her shirt. Damn it, this shirt is stained too. When did I get that stain? Sigh, who cares anyway, Dameon probably didn’t even notice. Should I have gone? She thought. Will he be mad when he gets back? No, he’ll understand, or will he? He’s a good guy. I don’t know.
         Susan put her head down on her desk and closed her eyes.
         “Knock, knock.”
         With a single jerk of her head she looked up and met Dameon’s eyes. “I brought you some food,” he said, “I figured you would be hungry.”
         “Yeah thanks.” Susan accepted the white box from Dameon’s bulky hands.
         “I’m stopping by your apartment sometime tonight.”
         “What?” Susan asked. Dameon’s back faced her.
“          I’m going to see how you’re holding up.” Dameon’s words sounded final and Susan knew that the conversation was over.

***

         Everything about the bus ride home was uneventful. Rain continued to fall. Susan popped her headphones and cranked the volume as soon as she got on the bus.
Home, a one bedroom apartment, positioned on the top floor, provided a nice view of the city below. The apartment itself was crying out to be cleaned. Susan flopped onto, what only she would call a couch; anyone else would have called it a blue lump. With one press of a button, she turned the TV on.
         A knock on the door broke her stupor.
         “Come in,” Susan said, her mouth muffled by a couch cushion. Her heart began to thump, faster and faster. Dameon, Susan thought. When a balding heavy set man entered, Susan couldn’t help but feel her stomach sink in disappointment.
         “Your rent is due,” he said with a cigarette laden voice.
“          I’ll have it for you in the morning.”
         “Ms. Beckett, the sooner the better.” He scowled at her and slammed the door shut behind him.
         Before Susan could settle down and focus on her movie, another person announced their presence with a knock on the door.
         “Come in.” Again, Susan felt her heart thump and again felt her stomach sink with disappointment.
         A young woman in a red shirt and blue jeans filled her doorway. A glass measuring cup grasped in her hand. “Can I borrow a cup of sugar? I am making cookies,” she asked.
         “Sure, Chloe, you know where it is.” Susan made a vague gesture toward her tiny kitchen unit.
         “So where’s Dameon?” Chloe asked, rummaging through the cupboards.
         “Why? Were you hoping to catch him?” Susan said surprised at the jealousy that colored her voice.
         “Uh, no. He used to be here all the time. From the looks of it,” Chloe paused for a moment, “He hasn’t been here in a quite while.”
         Susan rolled her eyes. “Your point?”
         “Maybe he found something better to do with his free time.”
         “What?” Susan leapt to her feet.
         “It’s just a thought. That man used to be over all the time and then all of a sudden he just stops.”
         “What do you mean?” Susan walked over to the kitchen, picking her way through the living room, avoiding the piles of trash and clothes.
         “It’s so obvious, the way he takes care of you, he must care about you. I’ve known you two long enough to see that.”
         “Then why do you say that he has found something else to do with his time?”
         “Well,” Chloe began. She twisted the top of the sugar container and put it back in the cupboard. “He hasn’t been around in what seems to be a months. The condition of your apartment, tells me that. You have let yourself go.”
         “Go on,” Susan said, staring at her feet.
         “So that may mean that he is out seeing someone, because he can’t wait forever for you to make up your mind.”
         For a third time that night, there was a knock at the door. Again, Susan’s heart began to thump faster. This time there was no sense of disappointment. There Dameon stood in the doorway, a smile on his face.
         “See you later, think about what I said,” Chloe whispered. She walked past Dameon and yelled, “Thanks for the sugar.”
         “Hi Sue.” Dameon surveyed Susan’s apartment. “Looks like I have my work cut out for me.” He joked.
         “Hi Dameon.” Susan appeared from the kitchen and looked at her friend. He stood in front of her, wearing a causal t-shirt and jeans.
         “Go take a shower and get dressed.”
         “What are you going to do?”
         “Just go,” Dameon said. He began shoving Susan in the direction of the bathroom.
         “Fine,” Susan said, slamming the bathroom door in his face.

***

         Susan emerged from the bathroom. A clean white blouse and jeans, hugged her frame, flattering her curves. Am I in the right apartment? Susan thought. The mess of clothes and accumulated objects had been put into some type of organized method.
         “What did you do?”
         “Cleaned up some.” Dameon smiled at the confused expression on Susan’s face. “Does it really surprise you?”
         “I guess not,” Susan said, sitting beside Dameon on the couch.
         “It’s about time we retired this thing, don’t you think?” Dameon pat the couch in an affectionate manner. “He’s been through a lot. Though I’ll miss the old thing.”
         “Yeah,” Susan said, she bit her lip, unsure of what to say next.
         “Come on.” Dameon grabbed Susan’s hand. “I’m taking you to dinner. I want you to meet someone.”
         “Who?”
         “You’ll see.”

***

         A sign of a blue steaming mug of what could have been anything from a cup of hot chocolate to a cup of hot tea, or a classic cup of the good stuff, hung above the door to the Comfort Cup.
         “You love this place, don’t you?” Susan asked, as Dameon held the door for her.
         “It’s been my favorite place since we were kids,” He said.
         The Comfort Cup was a typical mom and pop restaurant. Small tables with checked white and red tablecloths dominated the center of the restaurant. A small area to one side was the bar and the cash register. Pictures from all the years that place had been opened of people and events hung on the walls, giving the place a welcoming atmosphere. The place was deserted except for one table. A woman sat, hands folded, at the table closest to them. One wave and Dameon waved back. Susan noticed a goofy expression painted across his face. Who was this person?
         “Hey Ann.” The woman stood up and gave Dameon a hug.
         “And this must be Sue,” Ann said, giving Susan hug. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
         “Yeah, well I haven’t heard too much about you.”
         “That’s my fault. I didn’t want Dameon to say too much about us.” Ann gestured to the table. “I made sure that we had the restaurant to ourselves tonight.”
         “Ann’s family owns the Comfort Cup,” Dameon whispered, he pulled out a chair for Susan.
         “Isn’t he a gentlemen?” Ann laughed.
         Susan just nodded, keeping her mouth closed. Who was this woman? And why was she acting like she knew me? And why was Dameon acting like a goof?
         “Sue, you have been my best friend for a long time,” Dameon stated.
         “Yes, and your point,” Susan crossed her arms.
         “I wanted you to be the first to meet my fiancé.”
         “What?” Ann asked as Dameon got down on one knee. He reached into his coat pocket and extracted a tiny black box. “Really?” Ann started to cry and Susan did too.
         “Ann Randal, would you marry me?” Dameon opened the box and revealed a ring with a tiny row of diamonds.
         Susan watched as Ann nodded, Dameon slid the ring on her finger, and he picked her up swinging her around. Susan barely registered Ann asking her to be her maid of honor and her accepting. Ann and Dameon were giddy with excitement, while Susan tried to figure out how she felt about the whole situation.
         Distracted, Dameon and Ann didn’t notice that Susan had left. Outside, rain had started to fall again. It didn’t matter to Susan, nothing mattered to her anymore. As if she was expecting it, someone opened an umbrella over her head.
         “Thank you,” Susan said.
He nodded as if to say you’re welcome.
         “I feel so stupid. I should be happy for him, but I’m not,” Susan said.
         The man nodded again.
         “How could I have been so blind,” Susan didn’t bother to fight her tears. They fell freely.
         Two warm arms surrounded Susan, holding her in place.

***

         A whirlwind wedding is what some would have called it. It had everything any bride could have ever wanted. The Comfort Cup must take in lot more money than it appears. Susan thought as she entered the church. Even the bridesmaid dresses aren’t awful. She’s too perfect for him. Susan smoothed out her baby blue dress.
The procession entered, Susan smiled at the tiny little flower girl. She wore a wreath of flowers on her head and threw rose petals in spastic bursts all the way down the aisle. At the altar, Dameon stood dressed in a black tux, no tie. He smiled and winked at Susan as she and the other bridesmaids walked toward him.
         “This is the happiest day of my life,” he whispered as Susan walked by.
         “I’m happy for you.” Susan kept her head bowed, she knew if he looked her in the eyes that she would cry.
         After the first note of “Here Comes the Bride” everyone turned their heads toward the doors. Ann appeared dressed in white. She moved slowly down the aisle, a bouquet of wildflowers clutched in her hands. Susan watched as Ann nodded at the people on either side of her. A man held Ann’s arm. Must be her father, Susan thought. I wish that could be my dad and me in that dress.
         After the father gave away the bride, the vows were exchanged, nothing different from any other wedding. Susan almost missed her cue to lead the bridesmaids out. She tripped and Dameon caught her.
         “One day, you’ll be this happy,” he said, helping her to her feet.
         “Thanks,” Susan whispered.
“          I’ll still be around, don’t worry.”
         The reception was also a simple affair, held in the parish hall beside the church. Susan stood in a crowd of women. Ann had her back to them. Raising the bouquet up above her head, she gave it one good toss into the crowd. It landed right in Susan’s arms.
         “You’ll be the next one married,” Ann said, “It shouldn’t be that long.” She gave Susan a big hug.
         “Yeah, hopefully,” Susan answered. I can’t hate her, Susan thought. She’ll be good for Dameon. He’s one lucky man. After she spoke, Ann began to talk to someone else. With Ann distracted, Susan began edging toward to door. She slipped away without being noticed.
Outside, Susan looked out toward the graveyard. Up on one of the hills, a figure that she could recognize anywhere stood with his back toward her. Without a second thought, she ran to the hill. The man turned around and smiled at her. A finger was pointed at a gravestone. An umbrella was propped up beside it. He winked and walked past her. Susan turned around and he was gone.
         She turned back to face the stone and heard “Excuse me?”
         “Yes,” Susan said turning around, coming face to face with a man about her age. He had a toothy grin and untidy brown hair. He wore a dress shirt and pants.
         “I saw you inside and I wanted to talk to you, but you slipped away,” he said, running his hand through his hair.
         “Oh, well, my name is Susan,” she said holding out her hand.
         “Mine’s Collin,” He said shaking her hand.
         “Do you want to go back inside?”
         “Sure,” Susan began to follow Collin down the hill and looked back. “Wait right here,” she said. Back at the top of the hill, she picked up the umbrella. She read the words engraved on the stone. “Elijah Beckett”
         “That’s a first,” Collin said, his face pointed toward the sky.
         Susan looked up and noticed for the first time in a long time the sun and smiled. “Thanks Dad,” she whispered.