Conversations on a Rooftop

..--..

Lethargic days like this one were all too familiar. He covered his face with the back of his arm and let his body slide down against the dilapidated wall, dropping limp into a cozy spot. With one knee hunched up and an elbow rolled around it, he was sitting in the shade of a tool shed that had been long deserted. The janitor must have forgotten all about it by now. Well… good for him. He wasn’t going to complain. No, not one bit.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and took a long drag of it, blowing the smoke out at a leisurely pace only he could afford… almost as if he had all the time in the world. In a strange way, he could freely admit that he did.

In the distance, he could hear the giggles of the girls playing volleyball, dressed in their skimpy little white shorts and the guys from his class yelling obscenities at each other on the baseball field. The sounds of bat hitting ball and ‘Strike one!’ littered all the way up here on this empty terrace.

Well, not entirely empty.

He always did have unneeded company for his secret escapades. The rather dead company of Malcolm whom he always found sleeping under the open sky, arms sprawled out. At first, he had been surprised and even curious to know whether the upperclassman was still alive… but frequent visits to the rooftop had somehow made him accustomed to find him sleeping there. It was funny how humans could get used to any kind of peculiarity given some time.

It’d somehow turned into the same old routine every day. Skipping class, smoking half a pack of cigarettes, staring at the sky mindlessly and dozing off… only to awake hours later to get escorted to the headmaster’s office.

He reclined his head against the hard texture of the wall, taking a deep puff. He inadvertently swallowed some of the smoke and emerged coughing in fits.

He didn’t see Malcolm steer from his sleep but he could swear that he saw the latter’s fingers twitch. Possibly, the only living signs the boy had shown in the past six weeks.

He squeezed his eyes shut to stop the tears of nausea.

His coughs having resided, he opened his eyes again slowly.

He found himself staring into the doe eyes of someone looking at him with her head upside down.

“Hi,” she greeted enthusiastically.

He shrunk back and stared at her.

That was the first time he met her.

..--..

“I’m from Clover, sunny place down south. You might have not heard the name but all those picture postcards of white sands and blue beaches… well that’s Clover for you. It must be gorgeous there this time around. Not like this sleepy town. I really miss the beach and the scent of salty air. Do you like the beach?”

Her mouth was apparently a runaway express. He stubbed his cigarette in reply, rolling his eyes at her.

“So, why are you skipping class?” she asked, pushing back a rebellious strand of hair.

He didn’t answer and hoped his silence would speak for itself.

But what he hadn’t counted on was her persistence.

Somewhere in the middle of her ceaseless rambling, she did introduce herself but for the life of him, he couldn’t retrieve her name from the shadowy shelves of his mind. All he could remember was that it had something do with ‘blue’. Caroline? Azure? Iris? Oh well. It wasn’t like he cared much. But he did remember thinking that her name was a contradiction in itself.

Because the girl was anything but blue.

She was like the sun, a bubble of enthusiasm and energy that got on his nerves plenty.

“Do you come here often?” she asked relentlessly. “Because I’ve never seen you around much…”

He finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Bugger off,” he said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. After giving her one very pissed look, he walked out, slamming the door behind him.

..--..

The next day when he skipped PE, he cursed to find her having usurped his rightful place. It was his favorite spot, dammit. She seemed quieter today and was fumbling with her fluffy white socks that seemed so the rage among teenagers these days.

He walked over to her and glared down at her small form.

“Hey you… you’re in my spot,” he stated.

She looked up at him and scowled back. Much to his surprise. He hadn’t really been expecting any resistance. “I don’t see your name written anywhere,” she said in a quiet voice.

He nudged her with his bag. “Go, get your own place.”

She frowned and scooted over to the other corner of the shed. She remained silent the entire time, nodding to herself and tapping her feet restlessly. He was not supposed to notice these little signs. He was supposed to get his daily supply of nicotine, take a nap and get on with his life... or perhaps, the lack of it.

But the trouble was, today, he couldn’t. Not with her continuously throwing furtive glances at him.

“What?” he asked edgily.

“Nothing,” she finally said, turning to face away.

And they passed the entire next hour in that icy silence. Nothing moved. Not the wind, not the trees, not the shutters of the windows, not even Malcolm. But then again, he never did.

..--..

He’d been wrong.

She was blue.

Besides being sunshine yellow.

It occurred to him that this girl was not exactly ‘normal’. She seemed like one of those manic depressives- the ones who switched from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other with the snap of a finger.

Well, guess what?

She’d found her match.

“Hey, you feel like talking?” she asked after two days of silence, seemingly back to her happy-go-lucky-camper self.

He paused to look at her sideways and snorted loudly.

She remained unperturbed.

“Okay, let’s play a game. I ask you a question and you answer.”

“Get lost, brat.”

Again, she was persistent.

“What do you think this world looks like from up there?” she asked, pointing to the distant sky.

She let the question hang in the air and now it bothered him. After a long moment of silence when she’d finally decided that she wouldn’t be able to squeeze any answers… much less, a conversation from him, she was surprised to hear him utter two words.

“Ant hills.”

“What?” she asked, blinking in pleasant surprise.

“I bet we look like ant hills… We must be like parasites sucking up every available space on earth, building monumental cities and expanding all over the place.”

She opened her mouth to protest but clamped it shut, realizing she couldn’t really counter the truth.

“That sounds like something out of The Matrix.”

“No, that sounds like something out of ‘me’.”

She smiled at that.

..--..

“So, we’re just a speck of dust?”

“Yeah…”

“Then, is it okay for a speck of dust to have aspirations, hopes and dreams?”

For once, he felt stumped.

..--..

“Do you have a dream?”

“No.”

“Come on. Everyone makes a wish now and then.”

“Yeah. Well, right now, I am wishing you’d bugger off.”

She ignored his gibe and went on.

“You know, one of these days, I am going to jump off the roof. Do you want to know why?” she asked.

“Not really,” was his enthusiastic answer.

“Because I want to know what it feels like… to feel the ground pull away. To soar into the sky the way birds do.”

“No strings attached?”

“No strings attached.”

..--..

“So, you remember the rules?”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“The person who wins… jumps off the building.”

“You sure you want to go ahead with this?”

“Are you scared?”

“No!” he scoffed.

She reached into her blazer and pulled out a coin.

“What’s your call?” she asked with a grin.

He looked at her, a little amazed.

“Heads,” he replied.

“I’ll take tails then,” she said with a smile.

She tossed the coin high, their two heads watching it as it swept through the air and fell on to the ground with a loud ring.

They stared at it as it rolled clumsily on the terrace before coming to a lazy stop.

They kept staring and glanced at one another.

He cleared his throat uneasily.

“Well, that’s… that.”

“… Yeah.”

They stared at one another and looked back at the coin, wondering about the verdict. The silence stretched until he raised his hand to scratch his head nervously.

“You… wanna…”

She looked up at him.

“…go out for a cup of coffee?”

“… okay.”

..--..

Malcolm woke up with a start. His eyes traversed across the empty rooftop, momentarily enjoying the sunny breeze. He turned on his side and found the twenty-five cent coin standing upright on the ground.

Malcolm looked around inconspicuously and by the sleight of hand, pocketed the coin and went back to sleep.