Oasis

The AC clatters painfully to a stop, splutters a last breath of cold air and gives up the ghost. Under the hood, the engine revs up, holds a fearful rumble , groans some more and puffs out an unwelcome white and thick smoke that engulfs both sides of the car. The traffic must be moving ahead and honks are urging me on. It’s no use. I carefully step out and shrugs at the angry driver fuming behind. He forces his way on the next lane , hurls a last insult through the open window and stops a few yards ahead. He is looking in his rearview mirror, expecting me to walk up to him and fish him out of the car. But I have bigger problems. I did not imagine my car was so heavy and I puff and pant as I try to push it on the hard shoulder. A van full of little kids is encouraging me, they cheer, they shout , one of them gives me the finger as they drive past. The sun is high in the sky and is weighing down on me as a cruel slave driver whipping me with its burning rays. My grey shirt has already turned darker, rivulets of perspiration are trickling down my spine, gathering in a pool in my navel , and their saltiness slightly impairs my vision. I get the car where I want it, the disturbing smoke has turned to thin steam curls but I don’t dare starting it again.

“ Sorry pal! Busy day today! With the heatwave and what not! I can’t make it till tomorrow, 10 a.m. , at best” “ No, I don’t work nights” “Good luck finding one”. As I throw my cell phone on the passenger seat in despair , I can see the van has painfully inched its way a few yards ahead. My shirt is soaking wet , feeling like a second skin stubbornly sticking to every nook and corner of my upper body. I hopefully look around for a hot, leftover bottle of water under the seat but can only come up with an unsatisfying bottle of coke with a few drops left at the bottom, the sticky beverage won’t even make it to the neck. A glance at my watch informs me that Karen and Adam will have their evening for themselves. This is the only comfort I can get from the situation. I won’t have to spend the night on the left side of the couch while the two of them will ignore the movie and kiss too freely and too passionately for comfort. “ Gee! That’s too bad! Can’t you take the bus?” “Eating on the terrace is a no-brainer! Hottest day of my life!” “Saw two guys bathing on the fountain at the park! I was taking Terry for his walk and…” “Guess I’ll see you tomorrow” “ We’ll do! She ‘ll be disappointed for sure!” “Love Bro”.

I slam the door and the unforgiving sun’s reflection ruthlessly blinds me . I start walking on the side of the freeway, protected by the guardrail, carrying my suitcase as if it were made of lead, my jacket folded around my forearm, an ineffective tissue flaking away as I mop my forehead and the nape of my neck. I soon overtake the kids, then the grumpy old fuck . He is still raving, raging, abusing other drivers, threatening them with a clenched fist when he notices me. I give him my best smile. I walk up the exit way not even caring for the exhaust that smothers me all around. The sun glints off a bus stop a little farther away, the haze of the baking sidewalk giving it a mirage quality. The traffic is slightly better in the street. I take a seat, trying to catch my breath. Two women , toting fresh, beady, quenching water bottles take shelter under the metallic structure. I drink up their words as they have a look at the bus schedule, check on their phones for time and take quick sips from their heavenly bottles. I visualize the water as it refreshes their parched mouth and passes through their throats in an inaudible gulp warping them as they go. I snap out of my daydream and offers them my seat. They gladly accept it and here I am, standing, the malevolent sun finding a treacherous angle to bathe my bare neck in its hellish light.

The bus looms away as a savior. It is surrounded by a halo of light and moves ahead to my rescue. The prospect of its cool, air-conditioned air is as an oasis in this desert. I wave it to stop and it opens its folding doors releasing an ocean of refreshing air, freezing the drops of perspiration on my forehead. Being the gentleman, I let the two women step on first. When my turn comes, the driver waves me off “ Sorry Pal! Bus is full! Next one in an hour” “That’s right but my colleague is running late, stuck on the freeway, I guess! Better find some place cool” “Where are you going?”

Crossing the street among the standstill traffic is a breeze. Engines and sun conspire to bury me under their stone-cold heat. I take refuge inside a nearby shopping gallery. As I step through the door, I am dizzy with relief, thankful for the roaring fans above, a wonderful ally in my fight against fate and summer. It is even colder inside the diner. A beautiful, aproned, smiling waitress cheerfully welcomes me and motions me to a booth. I reject her offer of a cup of coffee and scans the menu. Ice-creams waltz around along with soda drowning scoopfuls of crushed ice in large seemingly-bottomless glasses. They dance around on the yellow, laminated pages , gathering pace as I try to decipher their meaning, they whirl, and whirl around, in eddies , cascading over one another, running in circles , over and over again , until a vortex opens in which I willfully plunge.

I reach the surface thanks to the waitress’s dry, stinging slaps. “ Musta been the heat!” ,“ Here take a sip o’ this” ,“Not too fast, you’ll choke”, “ You look better already” ,“ ‘was about to call 911, you scared me there” ,“ It’s been awful these last coupla days”, “ I heard asphalt is meltin’ at the corner of 66th and Broadway” “ you should be more careful” “What happened?” “I see. What’s your name?” “I’m Emma, nice to meet you” “ My shift ends in an hour, why doncha wait for me? “ “Here’s a coke , on the house”, “ I’ll drive you home”. So nice to meet you too, Emma.Really.