With law school soon approaching, David needed a room. The first year was to be long and tiring and all he wanted was a quiet place to sleep, to study when the library closed. He called some people who had put rental advertisements in the Portland newspapers. Most didn’t pan out because his only money was what he’d made working nightshifts at the Farmington Wal-Mart and he wouldn’t be working the first semester or so. But David had enough saved for three months of rent, and one friendly professor – a sleep-deprived man who’d always kept an eye out for him – gave his name to some people who could help.
It was going to be three long years, but David felt things were looking up, and there were happy-go-lucky bumblebees in his stomach as he drove down to Portland. School wouldn’t start for a few weeks, but he was looking forward to settling down for study. And he had a lead – a woman named Mrs. Carleton had called him the morning before last, saying she had a private room for four hundred. Her call had come so unexpectedly that David hadn’t known what to make of it. He was walking home from Wal-Mart, the sun blazing on his arms and neck, not knowing what he was going to do when he got to Portland. He didn’t know anyone and thought he might have to sleep in his car for a while.
On the phone, Mrs. Carleton had a tight, docile voice, like she was trying to keep some strong feelings contained. When David paused for too long a moment, mostly out of disbelief at his good luck, she told to him that Mr. Carleton would lower the price, with him being a student and all.
The Carletons lived on a maple tree-lined street in a small, neat two-story house. It was a pleasant neighborhood, an isolated district separated from the busier, nosier parts of the city. The law school was only a mile or two down the street, and David drove past the Carleton’s a few times, figuring that he should sell the car for extra money if it worked out with them. He wouldn’t need a car if he could walk back and forth from the school each day – he wasn’t returning to Farmington anytime soon, nor to his hometown. Just prior to ten o’clock, he parked nearby an elementary school and walked down a street crowded with businesses: an ice cream shop, bookstore, bank, insurance office. There were children pushing each other over a basketball and David laughed at them. He felt clean and upright and waived to the people watering their gardens or lounging on their porches, all the way down to the Carleton’s.
“Are you David?” Mrs. Carleton asked from inside her doorway. In the dusky grey, her voice was timid, as if she was trying to decide whether she was happy to see him. “My husband is taking a nap. He does so after breakfast.”
“What a wonderful street,” David said. He remained on the porch, for Mrs. Carleton hadn’t yet asked him in. “I walked a bit around. Everything is so clean and nice.”
“And you’re very polite,” Mrs. Carleton said with slight difficulty, which she over-corrected, by throwing open the door, taking David’s wrist in her soft hand, and pulling him into the shadowy house. “I will get my husband up – now, you come into the family room.”
“Thank you for seeing me,” David said as he followed her down the brown hall. “It’s been stressful having to look for a room, especially because I won’t be working for some time.”
“You shouldn’t be made to work and go to school,” Mrs. Carleton said with a funny laugh. “We’re so happy to help you out, Mr. Carleton and I, now that we have a big empty bedroom.” She covered her mouth to stifle either a yawn or a laugh or a grimace.
She brought him into a formal sitting room with the sort of furniture she and her husband must’ve chosen from a store’s showroom. Everything clashed, the brightness of the colors against Mrs. Carleton’s nervous, careful personality. David sat upon a peppermint-striped sofa with deep cushions and Mrs. Carleton sat across from him in a lime-green chair, her figure tall and statuesquely reposed. In the room’s sunlight, she was blonde-haired and beautiful, and a bit younger than she’d looked in the doorway.
“The room is my daughter’s – or was hers,” Mrs. Carleton corrected herself. “Her things are still up there, but I’ve been meaning to clear them out. I haven’t because – but I’ve been meaning to do so, and you moving in will give me the opportunity.” She smiled, but her eyes tightened with confusion, like a child solving a riddle.
“That’s alright by me,” David said and refolded his arms and legs. “I was worried coming to Portland, Mrs. Carleton,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what to expect.”
“I imagine we all have a bad reputation here, don’t we?”
“A bad reputation?” David asked. A car’s horn suddenly blasted from the street. He waited for it to cease. “No, it’s only that Portland is so big a city.”
“I’m from up north too,” Mrs. Carleton said, much too quickly. “That’s what I meant. My husband was a Portlander, so I came down here when we got married. The people aren’t so scary as they make them out to be.” She covered her mouth. “They can get on you a little bit, but that’s only in their nature.”
“I was only nervous because I’ve never been in a city like this,” David said, more forcefully. He considered, and quickly prodded a different side to the subject. “I won’t be around much because the first year of school will be so difficult.” He grinned, too sharply, for Mrs. Carleton’s small, hesitant smile was making him self-conscious. “I hope to get work this winter once I get my feet under me. And by summertime, I should have an internship.”
“You’re polite and hardworking,” Mrs. Carleton said. “My husband will like you.”
“I would like to meet him,” David said. “All I need is a place to study and sleep.”
“My husband is sleeping. He should be getting up. When I told him about you yesterday, he didn’t seem to know what to make of it. We’ve never had a renter with us before.”
“Well, I’ve never had to live with a family either,” David said, and he laughed, a bit too loudly than he wished to. “I don’t mind if it’s a girl’s room or anything like that. And I don’t plan on being so bothersome.” He tried to smile. “What I mean is that school will be so tiring and I will be spending much of my time at the library. I won’t be around so much.”
“We certainly won’t mind if you are!” Mrs. Carleton said quickly. She looked to the hall. “My husband would love to help out a young student, with your head to the future.” She tried to grin. “Our daughter has been gone a little while now, so I suppose I should now clear her room out.” She looked back at David, as if wanting his permission. From the street, the sing-song chorus of an ice cream truck ruffled the air. The silence between them hung thick as maple syrup until the song dwindled. “I’ll need to get some boxes,” Mrs. Carleton said vaguely. “I’ll need to awake my husband. Mr. Carleton would like to meet you – a serious young man.”
“I’m not so serious.” David twisted his lips between his pointer finger and thumb. “I have money saved for rent through January, I think, if I can budget myself correctly. I plan on picking up a job in January – my professor up in Farmington gave me some leads.”
“You’re so serious and dedicated,” Mrs. Carleton interrupted, her breath caught. “Our daughter has been gone for some time, so I imagine it’s time for me to pack up her things. Mr. Carleton might not think so, but we discussed it a little bit last night when I told him you were coming today. Speaking of Mr. Carleton, he should be getting up by now.”
David tried to sit up higher on the sofa. “I would like to meet him.”
“We’ll take you up to see the room. It’s full of my daughter’s things at this moment.”
“That’s nothing I’m worried on. I don’t have much of my own, just books and clothes.”
“It’s a wonderful room if you don’t need much space. Of course, there’s a bed and a chair and a drawer for your clothes. Caroline loved it very much. And I’ve really kept the room exactly how she liked it. Mr. Carleton does too – even when he suggests that we pack it up, I don’t believe him. Sometimes we even have a laugh about it. And now I hear him!”
She rose, as Mr. Carleton entered. As pretty and blonde and dainty as Mrs. Carleton was, her husband was even more so, although his blonde hair had faded into grey, and the lines in his face were more severe than his wife’s. He was dressed well in corduroy slacks and a light cotton shirt. He yawned and attempted to shield it behind his soft, manicured hand. David rose as Mr. Carleton came into the room. They shook hands. Mrs. Carleton stood and rested herself on her husband. He put his arms around and they swayed, their eyes partly closed, until Mr. Carleton looked down at David, emitted a little sigh, and gently disengaged himself from his wife.
“We would love to have you come up and see the room,” Mr. Carleton said.
“Of course, and perhaps you could stay for a bite to eat,” Mrs. Carleton said.
“That’s an idea,” Mr. Carleton said, looking down at her. He yawned again, and when Mrs. Carleton excused herself to make for them three glasses of iced coffee, he closely watched her until she’d disappeared into the hall. When he sat down, he seemed dazed, and his smile, when directed upon David, was of restrained aloneness. “I understand you’re a lawyer,” Mr. Carleton said with difficulty. “You look serious and hardworking.”
“I’m not a lawyer yet,” David said smally, thinking how loud the noises of the outside street had become. “I’m about to start my first year of school.”
“We need young people with good heads on their shoulders,” Mr. Carleton said, holding his hands tightly in his lap, waiting patiently for the sounds of a postman’s truck to decrease from their presence. “You would’ve been a good influence on my daughter.”
David didn’t know what to say about that. “I think Mrs. Carleton said four hundred-dollars for rent, which is –”
“Money isn’t of any importance,” Mr. Carleton said. “We’ve never had a renter with us and my wife was only feeling a bit nervous having someone come living with us. But that you’re a lawyer, that you’re honest-looking – my wife said you worked at Wal-Mart.”
David nodded. “I worked the third shift when I was at school in Farmington. But I don’t think I’ll be able to work for a time because –”
“That’s alright.” Mr. Carleton tried to smile. He leaned further back in the chair and cupped his knees with his hands. But all of him continued to twitch. “I would like to help a young man like you. I’ve always wanted to. I’d be glad to give you the room for free, but that may be an odd thing to do.” He looked genuinely curious. “Yes?”
“Yes, it might be,” David said quickly. “I certainly wish to pay because –”
“You would’ve been a good influence,” Mr. Carleton said. He sat heavily in the chair and folded his arms. “You want something, don’t you? Something out of your life.”
David didn’t know what to say. “I’m only making sure I get through school and then –”
“My wife said you grew up in the country, like her.” Mr. Carleton sighed out and breathed. “I admire that a lot, people like –” His speech was cut off with the appearance of Mrs. Carleton. She carried a wooden tray with three glasses of coffee. Mr. Carleton stared at her. “I was only talking aloud that David reminds me a little of you, when you were young.” He went to help his wife with the tray. “How very happy I am to see young, hardworking people,” he whispered, more to his wife than to David. “It’s incredible what some people can do.”
“He would’ve been such a good influence on Caroline,” Mrs. Carleton said. She covered her mouth with her hand. “I think he would’ve been.”
“I believe he would’ve been.” Mr. Carleton drank the coffee. “You look like someone that would take life seriously.”
“I believe he does,” Mrs. Carleton said. She looked at David. “I hope that you work hard and get good luck when you’re down here, David.”
“Oh, he’s one of those types that will push himself through any bad luck.”
“I hope so,” Mrs. Carleton said. She stared at David harder, though her eyes remained discolored. “It’s only that –”
Mr. Carleton drank down the coffee like there was something at the bottom of the glass. He shook his head, almost puttering. Then he tried to smile. “It’s only nice to have a hardworking boy like you in our presence.” He laughed a little. “Someone who takes life seriously. That’s something lacking in young people. Don’t you think?”
“I sure think so,” Mrs. Carleton said. She rose. “I’ve been thinking a lot about these young people, examining the ones that don’t do so well, and the ones that keep their heads down and really try to make something out of themselves.”
“Well, we don’t need to bring up any of that to David,” Mr. Carleton said. Suddenly, he reached for his wife. “Don’t cry now.”
“I wasn’t to cry,” she said, her tone sincere. “I was only thinking –” Mrs. Carleton cleared her nose and smiled. “It is nice to have you here, David. I hope that you choose to stay –”
“Well, he has to see the room first,” Mr. Carleton said too eagerly. He caught himself and waited a moment, received his wife’s hand in his, and then continued, “I believe I’m only getting a bit excited, David, for it’s not every day that young people come to us in need of some help.” His face was a pulsating scarlet. “You must not know Portland well, do you?”
“There’s certainly plenty to do here,” Mrs. Carleton said too brightly. “But David will need to study. Come on now, let’s go up and show you the room.”
“I believe we should,” Mr. Carleton said. He rose with help from his wife. They stood together watching David with expressions too astonished and hopeful. “It’s not so big a room – and Caroline’s things are still there. Yes?”
“I haven’t gotten around to boxing them up quite yet,” Mrs. Carleton said as she turned them to the hall and up a staircase. “I believe it’s time we did something with her room.”
“I believe so,” Mr. Carleton said.
When they reached the landing, Mrs. Carleton paused. She leaned a little on her husband, her head nodding against the wall. Mr. Carleton reached down and gently moved a strand of hair from off her forehead. The way he did so was adolescent and romantic. David didn’t wish to intrude too much on their private moment, but he couldn’t turn away. He felt something swell within him, that the three of them stood together in this way.
“I bet David wants to see the room,” Mr. Carleton said gently.
“And he shall,” Mrs. Carleton announced and turned.
The bedroom was large but crowded by furniture, by toys, by the posters on the wall. There was a large bed in its center and a television sitting on a stand, and a long desk with a wooden chair. On the desk were a computer, several textbooks, two notebooks and a jar of pens. Everything was neat and ordered. David reposed himself in the doorway.
“I’ll box up her things, so you can make what you want of your new room,” Mrs. Carleton said. “Caroline won’t be back, I don’t believe, so I suppose I can box up her things.”
“No, she won’t be back,” Mr. Carleton said. “I don’t know why you said such a thing.”
“I don’t either.”
Mr. Carleton nodded. “It’s probably best we don’t say such things anymore.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” Mrs. Carleton agreed. “I believe there are some boxes in the basement – it’ll make for a nice day-project, to clean it out and get it ready for David, here.”
David watched them step about the room, Mrs. Carleton loitering by the small desk, drawing her hands over the books, Mr. Carleton standing before the bed, indecision stalling him. Eventually, they went together to a dresser-drawer in the corner of the room and began to take out their daughter’s clothes from it. They carefully placed many beautiful dresses and shirts and coats on the bed. Mrs. Carleton neatly refolded what was crumpled or distorted and Mr. Carleton sometimes stopped to observe her, tenderness defining his face. David watched them until he couldn’t anymore. He stared through the box-window across the room. The tangled branches of a maple tree thrashed the blue sky and in the air were the noises of children playing.
Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash
