Tension

Tension

By

Raymond Paltoo 01-05-2020

The door banged shut behind the last customer as he cautiously entered the night, leaving the haven of warmth and light for the wintry pavement gleaming in the uncertain lights of the deserted street. The snow had begun to fall, and the flurries drifting hazily across the yellow street lights made the night seem even colder. Gerda looked at her watch again. Tony was an hour late. She had stayed on, hoping against hope that he would show up. She had to face the brutal truth now; that he was no longer interested in continuing their relationship.

He was the one who had suggested that she meet him at this café, almost at the end of Flatbush Avenue in the Borough of Queens. There were no more gaudy electronic shops and fewer fancy restaurants in this part of the long street. She was not familiar with this diner, as it was a far cry from Manhattan and Greenwich Village, where they had spent long hours in animated discussions over cups of black espresso coffee. She had thought that they were made for one another. But over the last few weeks, she had heard nothing from him despite leaving several messages on his answering machine.

“I guess my mother was right,” she reflected wryly, “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?” She hated to think of her mother being so smugly correct. Every bone in her body rebelled at the thought. Her mother had not wanted her to go out with a non-Jew, and Tony was of New York Italian heritage. They had met at work, where she was a New York Presbyterian Hospital ER nurse. Tony was a cop who brought patients to the ER in the line of duty. They were victims of trauma, car accidents, and bullet wounds. All the other nurses told her that he was bad news. He was a flirt, and very macho. She had been fascinated by his virility and the implicit confidence he had in his physical abilities. He always seemed so sure of himself.

The first time she had gone to bed with him was in itself an act of open rebellion against everything her mother had taught her. He was uncircumcised. According to her mother’s advice, she was almost certain to develop cancer of the cervix! She had heard whispers of girls coming into the ER in that situation, and although her medical training had stated that although there was a loose association between the two, there was no definite correlation. Most of the papers had been written about sub-Saharan African women and there were other medical causes In annoyance, she thought her mother had used this argument to prevent her from straying with any of the Goyim!

Now she hoped fervently that she would see him coming around the corner and through the doors.

Her third cup of coffee was already cold as she sipped the last dregs from the bottom. She looked around and only then did she realize that she was all alone in the diner, except for the big black man at the counter. The shift had changed, and he was not the original attendant who had been behind the counter when she first entered. All the patrons had left, drifting away silently into the snowy night one by one. They had been the smart ones. The garish neon lights on the ceiling only served to reflect the area’s isolation, an oasis of light in the vast expanse of outer darkness. Gerda had not been conscious of this fact until she realized that she was the sole occupant of the diner in a strange place.

She studied the black man behind the cash register. He was huge, with large muscular arms tattooed with what appeared to be writhing snakes crawling from wrist to shoulders. She thought he had taken several furtive glances at her, pretending not to stare at her directly. His bulk was a menacing presence. What was she to do if he attacked her? She was small, though she kept fit with regular Pilates and exercise. Despite seeing the recent movies where small girls regularly beat up bad guys, she knew that she would be no match for this giant of a man. That was only in the movies, she thought and this was not a movie. This was real life! She stared into her coffee cup, gazing intently at the few dregs lying at the bottom, panic beginning to come to the fore. The bartender finished wiping the counter, put the rag behind it, and started for her.

Silently she measured the distance to the door. She cursed herself for having chosen a corner seat at the back of the diner where she and Tony could be discreet and intimate if the mood should take them down that path. All at once, she was conscious of her dry throat and pounding heart. She tried to swallow but couldn’t! He was approaching! His heavy shoes thudded on the tiled flooring, at once menacing, and a harbinger of things to come?. She felt that she could smell the male scent emanating from him. What was he going to do? She had heard stories about black men and white girls before. She was not prejudiced. She couldn’t be. After all, she was Jewish and a liberal! Her throat tightened as he came nearer. She knew she would be unable to scream. There was no one to hear! It was a nightmare coming true. She could not breathe for fear!

He hovered over her.

His voice was soft for such a big man, as he said.

“It’s getting late, Miss, and the weather’s turning bad. Would you like another refill? You want I should call a cab for you?”

She went limp in relief! She reflected on the ingrained injustice she had perpetrated on the big man, even in her thoughts. She was prejudiced, after all! A humbling and galling realization for her as she thanked him while he conducted her to the waiting cab.