It was the hottest day of the year so far, a Friday. All I wanted was to submerge myself in water. Preferably an ocean or lake but anything, even a bathtub, would do.
As I walked toward home which sadly was a penthouse apartment on the sixth floor of a tenement walkup, I considered renting a hotel room for the night just so I didn’t have to face those stairs. They were a trip under the best of circumstances, like, cool weather, but on a day like today, when just standing still in one spot caused teeming perspiration, it was almost impossible to get up to my humble abode.
But, I had to be there as my best friend, Shelly, made me promise I’d meet her there. I didn’t make any connection to my upcoming birthday on the other side of the weekend. On the phone we hadn’t gotten into any details about what in the world would make a sensible girl like Shelly want to climb those stairs on a day like today. I figured she must have had some ShellyTragedy going on that she needed to rant about, or perhaps she couldn’t get her air conditioner to work, or any one of a number of things.
Most of the time I enjoyed my apartment. It was, after all, a penthouse, and I had use of the roof where I had a thriving garden. Also, the challenges presented by the lack of an elevator were reflected in the relatively low rent. That was a big plus, not to mention that I was thrilled just to be living in Manhattan. The views from up there were also worth the stairs. More or less. If you asked me that when I reached the top, drenched with sweat and gasping for air, I’d have said nothing was worth the climb, especially on the hottest day of the year.
I took my time going up, hanging on to the banister for dear life. On the fourth floor landing, I considered stopping to rest, but I didn’t want Shelly to be alone in my apartment for too long. I knew she was already there because I could smell her perfume. It had that heavy kind of scent that mocks the beach – including salt, suntan lotion, and seaweed. Not that I didn’t trust her, but who knew what she might get into if she got bored.
By the fifth floor I was thinking about who would miss me if I died. My father would, for sure, and that fact in itself made my mother, the jealous and possessive type, not likely to miss me much. As I was an only child, they were about it for family. At this time in my life, my early thirties, I didn’t have a significant other. I had a couple of ex’s and some friends, all of whom would probably miss me a little but would get over it pretty quickly. God, how sad. Shelly would miss me because I always listen to her when she vents. I give her advice and suggestions. Plus, we take care of each other’s cats on the rare occasions we go away at different times.
So, still pondering why she was in my home I dragged my ass up the last several steps, one by one, until finally, I was there on the sixth floor landing beneath the sky light which allowed the burning sun to beam its heat-rays down into the hallway. Slowly, because I had zero energy left, I got out my keys and opened the door. As I flipped the light switch I heard “Surprise!” and almost fell back out the door and down the stairs; luckily, I grabbed the doorknob.
“Oh my god, I don’t believe it,” I said, plopping down like a swirl of soft ice cream onto a cone. I noticed a few friends sitting in a half circle around me, none of them moving. They all looked half alive with Shelly trying to stand up and make her way over to me.
“Happy birthday!” she cried, stumbling toward me and giving me a hug so weak it could have been given by a ghost.
“Oh, thank you all, so much. You’re too much, Shell. Uh, one question: why didn’t you put on the air conditioner?”
“I did,” she protested. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Uh, no, but then, I’m not sure if I’m alive. And if I’m not it means you all came over here and made the atrocious climb for nothing.”
They all verbalized expressions of dedication, such as ‘oh what’re a few stairs when it’s a friend’s birthday’ and the like.
Then I started to laugh, weakly with a mild wheeze, as I realized none of us had moved. We were all just sitting there in the foyer, too weak to get up and go to the living room.
“What’s so funny?” a girl named Marsha asked.
Before I could muster an answer, this guy Stewart, or Stewie, started to weakly giggle, one “heh” every couple of seconds. “This may well turn out to be the worst surprise birthday party ever held in this apartment.”
“I doubt there were many,” I said, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.
“Oh, come on,” Shelly said. “We’re not old, we’re young and fit. So let’s get up, go inside and party.”
“Yeah, whoopee,” said my friend Lisa, her head resting on her hand. “No offense, Rachel, but in your next life would you please be born in a winter month, like January?”
Charlie said, “Or, since you probably won’t have a say in that, how about an apartment on a lower floor? Or, at least a building with an elevator?”
“Yup,” I said. “As much as I’d like to, I can’t argue with any of you. First of all, I’m too weak. And second of all, you’re all right. Whatever could have possessed me to rent this place, besides the fact it was all I could afford?”
“Well, there is a roof garden, isn’t there?” Marsha said, brushing back her auburn locks.
“Yes,” Shelly exclaimed. “Why don’t we go up there? If we wait a little while the sun will be over on the other side and it’ll be cooler.”
“Great idea,” I said, and a couple of the others agreed.
We all stayed where we were on the floor and wiled away the time until it was after six and the day morphed into evening. Shelly, playing the good host, forced herself to get up and get some wine and beers which we all ripped into with as much enthusiasm as we were able. Finally, we each slowly rose from the spot on the floor on which sweat had glued us to its surface and made our way to the door that led to the roof.
“Oh, no… steps,” someone said.
“Yeah, but only three,” I said leaning against the kitchen island, watching as one by one my friends climbed the three steps and exited out onto the roof. I went up last and joined in the chorus of voices that were singing praises to the rooftop of my building.
“Oh, this is wonderful. It’s so cool up here. What a beautiful breeze, and what a great garden.”
Suddenly, I felt so lucky. I had known what I was doing when I signed the lease for this apartment. So what that there was no elevator. Who needs a freakin’ elevator?
The party turned out to be one of the best…under the stars, a cool breeze and a bunch of happy friends. What more could I ask for? I wondered what they’ll do next year when I’ll have a milestone birthday. I’m sure it will be terrific, even if it’s also on the hottest day of the year.
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We've all been there... climbing flights of stairs that never seemed to end.
Good job!
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