Amber Lamps

July 17th, 2010 - Tyler - permalink

The last time I fell in love, I fell hard. I was pedaling beside midday traffic, white sleeves rolled up just below the elbow, tie flapping over my shoulder in the wind, like a flag proclaiming my awesomeness.

It was gorgeous, and warm for Spring. I had just gotten the good word on the promotion I’d been working toward for two years and decided to take the rest of the afternoon off to celebrate. Have a few drinks, maybe buy a dog…because that’s what successful people do.

Maybe one of those dogs, I thought, just before I realized those six large dogs were headed for the street. I tried to brake, too late; the runaway dogs crossed my path and the leashes that trailed caught my front tire.

I went down face first like one of those walking tanks from Star Wars.

“Oh, you poor thing,” were the first words I heard upon coming out of the daze. There was cleavage in my face. They were attached to the blonde: the tits and the dogs.

I sat up on the pavement. She came into focus, heavy pink lip gloss, yellow sundress, wide, blue eyes.

“I hope you’re OK!” What she meant was, I hope you don’t press charges
“I’m fine.”
“Thank God! You saved the dogs!”
“The dogs?”
“Yes. I really need this job.”
I gathered that she was a dog walker…or, trying to be.
“Maybe you should cut back to three at a time.”

Her laugh was exaggerated and obnoxious, but it shook her tits, which was nice. I became aware of a small crowd gathered around us. They were all watching anxiously. All except the mysterious girl on the bench behind them. For some reason, even as I continued flirting with the blonde, I couldn’t keep her out of the corner of my eye.

Brown hair, turquoise top, purple skirt, and stockings…despite the scene, there was no surprise in her. It was like she’d seen it all before. I think she even rolled her eyes at our conversation, knowing the slutty blonde was trying to win forgiveness with sex appeal. The mystery girl knew as well as I did the blonde had no interest in me, she just wanted to be off the hook.

I found myself drawn to the girl on the bench.

The blonde gave me her card with a wink and a smile, before she let the dogs drag her off again. I moved what was left of my bike out of the street and abandoned it against a building.

“Hi,” I attempted, standing beside the bench. She looked my way briefly, then turned back to a stare that went miles down the road. “Do you mind if I sit down?”
She shrugged. I took a seat.

“What are you listening to?”
She sighed, pulling a headphone away from her ear. “What?”
“What are you listening to?”
“Blood on the Dance Floor.”
“Any good?”
“No.”
“Can I have a listen?”
Her lips tightened for a moment, then she exhaled. “Sure. But it’s not going to change your life or anything.”
I put the headphones on and bounced a little to the techno dance beats to show that I was fun and charming, “This isn’t so bad!” I said, realizing I was speaking far too loud as I took the headphones off.
“There’s no accounting for some people’s taste.”
“If you don’t like it, why are you listening to it?”
“It’s a long story,” she said, hanging the headphones around her neck.
“Care to tell me about it over some coffee?”
“Not really.”
“Well…how about just the coffee?”
“I don’t care,” she yawned.
“Close enough, let’s go.”

There was a small coffee shop just around the corner. It wasn’t too busy, the customers looked like they’d been there for awhile sitting in the air conditioning, sipping coffee with nothing else to do. We found a table just big enough for two inside.

She was beautiful, but detached…completely unphased by the change of scenery and the new company. She didn’t even bother looking at the menu, or any of the people in the shop…yet somehow, she was fully aware of all of them. The girl looked like she had secrets.

I got the feeling she had no interest in me, she would have been just as happy still sitting alone on that bench. That only made me want to try harder.

“So, what’s your name?”
“Amber,”
“Oh, that’s pretty. Amber what?”
“Amber Lamps.”

The waiter walked up, wearing black frames, his hair was cut short, highlighted blonde. “Hello, my name is Travis, I’ll be taking care of you…”
“Decaf for me please, and bring Amber Lamps uh…”
“Mocha.”

Amber was steadfast and revealed nothing. She was like a professional poker player, her eyes were impatient and unimpressed…but her body language told me she could sit there forever without flinching or saying a word.

“So, Amber, where are you from, originally?”
“You haven’t heard of it.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just know. It’s a town in Indiana.”
“Try me.”
“Pawnee.”
I’d never heard of it. I was reluctant to say so…but she knew.
“See.”
I smiled, and my phone started vibrating. It was a miracle it still worked after the crash. I put up the traditional “I need to take this” finger and answered. She didn’t seem to care. It was my boss. The conversation was very brief, so much so that the gut shot didn’t hit me until I’d clicked “end.”

“That was my boss,” I said, already panting.
“Ok.”
“I just got fired.”
“Oh. Why?”
“He said they found pornography on my computer…”
“That makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t. I never look at porn at work…it makes no sense at all.”
“Then how’d it get there?”
“I have no idea! I can’t believe this…”
“It’s just a job,” she said, the way you’d say It’s just a sandwich when they screwed your order up at McDonald’s, the way you’d say it’s just a scuff mark when someone stepped on your Pumas.

Trent showed up with the coffee. He set Amber’s down in front of her, she went to take a sip immediately. The tray was somehow knocked off balance and my cup came tumbling down, end over end, directly into my lap. I screamed like a little bitch.

Amber raised a concerned eyebrow, which made me feel a little better, until she said “I think I got your decaf…”

As I frantically began wiping the scalding coffee away with the white cloth napkin provided by the sympathetic Trent, Amber spoke. She spoke for the first time, without provocation.
“I should have warned you.”
“Warned me about what?”
“Me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They used to call me disaster girl.”
“Who?”
“Whoever. Bad things just seem to happen when I’m around.”
“Well, it doesn’t seem to bother you too much.”
“I guess I’ve gotten used to it.”
“I haven’t.”

The coffee shop began filling with smoke. Thick, dark, smoke pouring out of the back, followed by a deep voice that could only belong to someone serious.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a fire in the kitchen, the extinguisher is malfunctioning, we ask you to calmly and quickly exit through the front of the building! The fire department has been called, they are on the way.”

Before he’d finished speaking most of the customers had already made their way past us to the door. My first reaction had me standing, turning to flee with them, then I remembered Amber.

I looked back, and she was still sitting there as if nothing was happening.

“I think it’s time to go!”
“I never got my mocha…”
“Forget the mocha, bitch! The building is on fire!”
“…whatever…”

She walked deliberately behind me as I trotted out of the building, coughing and choking. It could have been a stroll through the park for her. I kept going when I reached the sidewalk, headed for the street, she followed all the way to the curb and stopped.

The sound of a train whistle echoed in my ear as I looked back for Amber. I saw her steady gaze, just before the black sports car struck me, sending my body high in the air. I seemed to hang there forever, I could feel Amber watching me, as if she’d been watching this moment the entire time.

There was a loud pop when I hit the ground. No feeling, no movement. I could see the lake of blood forming around me.

Amber knelt down next to me and whispered something in my ear that I must take to the grave. It was only meant for me.

As she pulled away she put her index finger to her lips “shh. That’s my bus…”

Amber, my bringer of chaos, my watcher of destruction, my culling messenger…I thought of her, riding that bus, as I slipped into darkness and uttered my final words…

“Amber Lamps…Amber Lamps…”

“What’d he say, Sis?” asked the driver of the car, hovering over me.
“I think he said,” responded the passenger, “Call the paramedics.”