TONK JR.

“Tonk, just the roommate I’ve been looking for!” Daniel says while shoveling cereal in his mouth as I walk into a cloud that could get four people high. “Why is your rent check on the counter? I woke up and thought I was imagining things.”

Setting my book bag on our small dining room table, I lift an eyebrow. “It’s May 1st. Put the pipe down for a while.”

His laugh offers a fresh view of rainbow-colored, half-chewed Fruit Loops. “When was April? I mean, when did it end?”

“Once a year since the beginning of—”

“—Don’t mess with me, Tonk!”

Laughing I tell him, “I’ve got some studying to do.”

“It’s too sunny to do it on the fire escape, man.”

“It’s never too sunny.” I snag my composition notebook from the coffee table, glance to his paused video game and head off.

“I need some sex pointers, Tonk!”

“You just have to want to learn. The rest is easy.” Pulling the old window up so I can squeeze under its chipped frame, I add with a grunt, “Men are too selfish, that’s the problem.”

“I’m not selfish!”

Holding it with a firm grip so it doesn’t slam onto my back, I ask, “What is your goal when you’re having sex?”

Daniel looks at me like that’s the dumbest question he’s ever heard. “To cum!”

“See what I mean? Selfish.” I duck outside and stand up to stretch under a warm, bright sky with a view of green trees as far as my eye can see. We’re lucky to be facing Morningside Park. We could have had an apartment with skyscrapers all around us blocking out if it’s day or night.

Coming from Louisiana, I’d have missed the wide open sky.

I take a seat on a rickety wooden chair I found left on the sidewalk one day which I then carried up for this use, and for the millionth time over the course of the last weeks, Stacy appears in my mind. I haven’t been able to find her. We crossed paths on just two occasions and then she disappeared. There’s a gnawing sensation in my gut that won’t go away. It’s not just because I’m worried about her, and I am.

Opening my notepad I scroll old notes of what I’ve been learning from real life, and begin to write today’s passage. I want to analyze what just happened, how I’d successfully stopped a fight outside my class, by talking it out over the misunderstanding of two friends who were screaming about which one liked some guy first.

I’m writing so fast in cursive that my pen flies out of my hand and clatters through our rusty fire escape’s railing. I try to catch it but gravity is a worthy opponent. It flies to the sidewalk like it was dying to be free.

The middle part in a female’s shiny hair is in my direct line of vision as I lean over and watch the stroller stop. Nimble fingers reach for my pen and lift it as her head rises with it. We lock eyes and my heart jumps.

“Is this yours?”

“It’s yours if you want it, Stacy.”

She smiles, surprised to see me, too. “Do you always throw gifts at your recipients?”

Leaning elbows on the fire escape I volley back, “Had to get your attention some way. You were about to pass by without saying hello.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Weren’t looking hard enough.”

One hand lands on her hip as she juts it, and she’s absolutely adorable. “I wasn't looking at all!”

“I’m offended.” My eyebrows lift. “I wore this shirt just for you.”

“You wore a simple blue buttonup shirt for me?”

“Yep.”

Stifling a smile, she rolls her eyes. “That is impossible. Both times I’ve seen you before today, you’ve worn that style of shirt. And also, you had no way of knowing I would be here, so don’t even try to pull that with me.”

I laugh, “If I had known you would be walking underneath my stoop, I would definitely have worn this shirt. So I guess it was just a lucky selection.”

“That’s not a stoop.” She points to the paint-chipped, dusty-red stairs leading up to my building. “That’s a stoop.”

Her child makes noises like nap time is over. I’ve still never seen this baby. A guilty shadow darkens Stacy’s walnut-brown eyes and she hurries over to see if the child needs anything. She was having a good time and that is not what she is supposed to do. At least not with me.

But it doesn’t feel as simple as guilt over flirting with a stranger when you’re taken. This was friendly banter easily written off by anyone with nothing to hide and no one to be afraid of. Or maybe I’ve got it wrong. Perhaps it’s because she’s attracted to me and knows that’s not right. But the anxious way she’s hushing her child feels ominous. I’m good at reading people. I plan to make a living at it.

Adding to the mystery she throws me a hurried, “I have to go,” before pushing the stroller away from my concerned observations.

“Stacy!” She looks up and pauses, frowning but curious. “Do you have a boy or a girl? I feel like a jerk for running into you a couple times now and not asking about your baby.”

“She’s a girl. Her name is Celia.”

“That’s my sister’s name!”

Her eyes narrow. “No way.”

“I’m completely serious. I’m not joking anymore.”

A sparkle lights her eyes again. “Not joking anymore means completely serious.”

“A lady who understands redundancy and holds the bar higher for my intellect. Can you be any more attractive?”

She glances to the sidewalk as her eyelashes flutter. Within two seconds I’m inside my apartment and running to the door, throwing it open, ignoring Daniel’s curiosity, exploding into the hallway where my sprint takes me down two flights of stairs and a seven step stoop.

My sister said to spy and confirm my suspicions or drop it for good. If he’s hurting Stacy, I will happily take her off his hands. But if not, I’ll go on with my life. At least I’ll have an answer, and maybe I can help someone who needs it. As far as romantic interest goes, I haven’t touched anyone since I met her. My hormones hate that. But nobody has piqued me. Lots of people in the world but none have sparked that what-is-happening feeling I felt when I locked eyes for the first time with Stacy.

I catch up to her and slow down, panting a little. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“What are you doing?” She eyes me from profile, pushing the stroller north.

To home?

It’s my best guess.

We shall see!

“Just thought I’d walk with you for a little while, if you don’t mind.” Staring ahead I remain as friendly and neutral as possible. “It’s a beautiful afternoon, especially with the sun at this particular angle.”

“You don’t talk like other people. How old are you?”

“Damn, you caught me. I was born in another era. I’m actually two-hundred and fifty.”

“Stop it,” she laughs.

I lean forward a little so I can lock eyes with her, insisting, “I am only visiting here. So you don’t have to worry about me falling in love with you. I’ll be disappearing soon and you’ll never see me again anyway. So why not take a casual stroll while we have the sun on our side?”

One of her thumbs is lightly caressing the stroller-bar. I’m trying not to think of that bar as something else. But hey, I’m a man. And I want her. But I’ll take friends if that’s all fate wants to gift me.

“I don’t remember what your name is. It was a weird name, I know that.”

“If you’re going to call it weird then I’m never telling you what it is again.”

“Was it Funk?”

“It was definitely not Funk.”

“Monk?” I shake my head so she tries again, “Junk?”

“That’s it. You got it right. My name is Junk.”

She laughs at my dry delivery and cries out with the cutest smile, “Just tell me what it was!”

“What it is. My name hasn’t changed. What it was is what it is.”

“Okay, okay! What is your name?”

“Tonk. My name is Tonk Jr. Lewis.” Laughing at her expression I explain, “I know it sounds weird. But it doesn’t feel weird to me. It’s always been my name. My father’s name was Leonard Lewis. When he joined a motorcycle club they gave him that nickname because it sounded a little like a thud. When you sound out the word it’s almost like the word bonk. And my dad was really young, the newbie. He’s a good man, very loyal, but not terribly bright. The guys teased him with this nickname, especially Jett, and it stuck. There’s a certain weight to it that I like. Tonk has an actionable pressure when you say it: Tonk. It’s meaty.” She’s been watching me, and her attentiveness is really beautiful. The way she listens and the slowness of her footsteps has made me feel important. I don’t normally reveal intimate things about my personal life with anyone, much less someone I just met. Of course with her, she could ask me anything and I’d vomit it out without thought of consequence.

Even Daniel doesn’t know my family are the key members of a Robin Hood-like vigilante biker club. But then again, he doesn’t know what month it is, either.

“It’s hard to see you with a father who rides motorcycles. You’re so…clean cut. I would’ve expected you to be a lawyer’s son.”

Watching the world pass us by as we stroll in the sunlight, I explain, “My dad and I don’t have a lot in common. He’s blonde haired and blue-eyed. Doesn’t enjoy reading. Loves to fight. For the right reasons. They help people. He’s not picking fights just to do it.” I add, just to make sure he’s painted in a true light.

“I understand.”

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately because I moved away from him and my family when I came here to study Psychology and become a family and marriage therapist. It’s given me some distance from who I used to be. I think I was always living in the shadow of what he wanted from me. Do you know what that feels like?”

She stares ahead. “Yes.”

“Where are you from?”

“Michigan.”

“How long have you been living in the city?”

“I moved here three years ago.” Her eyelashes fall to the stroller. “I was going to Columbia.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s where I go. What were you studying?”

“I came here to study business because I heard that was a good thing to major in. But I don’t have an entrepreneurial mind. I’m not really a self-starter.” Defensively she adds, “Except when I’m really passionate about something. Then I have more motivation. But I get distracted easily.”

“We all do.”

“I think I do more than most.” Chewing her lip, she realizes how far we’ve walked. Her back stiffens. “I have to go.”

“Are you happy with him?”

She blinks, the seriousness in my tone unmistakable. “I…what? Why are you asking me?”

“Because…” I trail off.

She frowns and won’t meet my eyes. “He’s the father of my baby.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“That’s not important.”

“Isn’t it?”

Dragging shaking fingers through her hair she says, “I can’t be seen with you. Please, Tonk.”

Of course I stop walking.

I know something is up with this guy now. And I hate seeing her afraid.

She apologizes and I reassure her with a soothing voice, “It’s okay.”

“Thank you,” she whispers.

Beautiful eyes lock onto me as I ask, “Walk with me again tomorrow? Just a walk. Just friends. I’ll be at the faun and bear sculpture in the park at 3:30 PM. Same time you were by my place today, so it’s not far if this is the route you like to take with Celia. In fact I’ll make it 3:15. I would like to be your friend. In fact, I’ll be there every day until you show up—how about that?”

She stares at me a moment, her expression unreadable. Continuing to her home, I watch for a moment before heading back to mine so I don’t get her in trouble.

When I said just friends, I may have lied to my future wife. Not exactly the best way to start a relationship.