“No mom…no, I know,” Jorge said with a sigh as he spoke through the bluetooth nestled in his ear.
Through the streets of New York, he sighed as he listened to his mother’s voice as she went on about her day and kept asking about his personal life. Ever since his transfer to New York his mother has been extra busy in her nosiness about his life, but Jorge did not say anything. He knew that she was fine and really just wanted to talk to him, even if it was only for an hour every few days or so. Still though, her constant commentary on his life did still grind his teeth.
“Yes mother, my apartment is very nice,” he sighed as he turned into his parking lot.
As he climbed out of his car, Jorge, dressed in his cheap gray suit and trench coat, slipped his phone into his pocket as he still chatted into the earpiece. After he slammed his door shut, Jorge opened the back door of his car and pulled out a large brown paper bag full of groceries. He struggled with the bag momentarily before he finally kicked the door closed and headed towards his apartment building.
The building was small with a red brick face and stairs that led up to the front door. At one point this had been a really nice building but it seemed that years of neglect and a none-too-nice neighborhood had diminished its once classic exterior. Still, things really could have been worse. The neighbors were quiet, they all abided by the rules and in his short time here, he had learned that he could count on them to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity.
Once Jorge entered the lobby, he sighed as his mother continued to talk.
“No mother, no Lizzie is doing fine here. She is adjusting very well…Well she’s a smart girl,” he sighed as he climbed the steps to the third floor and headed down the red, carpeted hallway.
“No she doesn’t resent me for moving. No mother…Mother…okay mother! I have to go now. Good night! Bye!”Jorge sighed turned his bluetooth off and struggled with his groceries again, trying to maneuver it so that he would not have to place the bag down in order to reach the keys in his pocket. Finally after a couple of close calls Jorge managed to reach into his coat and produced his keys. As he unlocked his door, he slipped in and set the brown bag down on the nearest table, after which his ears were immediately assaulted by the sound of scampering.
“Lizzie,” Jorge whispered with a very small grin as he closed the door behind him.
“I know you’re in here.”Jorge then flipped on his lights. His apartment was small but it was decorated to his liking, in a way that most would not expect from a police officer. Against the far wall of his beige colored living room, were at least three tall, but thin, bookshelves, all of which were crammed from end to end with books of various sizes. Next to that was a small cabinet, on top of which was his stereo which contained probably one of the last cassette players. In the center of his room was a large sofa which looked as if it had seen better days, yet still was used to such an extent that there could no more comfortable couch in the world. That sat across from another small cabinet which held up a standard, 24” TV (not plasma or widescreen, just classic tube driven TV) with a VCR on top of it. Along his walls were various photos of family and friends back in Miami as well as a single fern that hung from a hook at the right corner of the room, nearest to the window.
Scamper scamper scamper…The noise got closer and Jorge had to grin as he walked into his small kitchen with his bag of groceries.
“Lizzie, you know I don’t like it when you try to surprise me…”Scamper…scamper…Suddenly there was a burst of white from under his small table as a four legged, wrinkly form lunged for Jorge and started to bark at his feet. He laughed as he reached down and picked up Lizzie,
his Old English Bulldog.
“Hey there girl! You miss me?” he asked as he scratched the dog’s head and tried to desperately to avoid her slobbering tongue. He grinned as he set her down and watched her run to the corner of the kitchen and sit patiently near her food bowl.
“What? You trying to say something?”Arf! Woof!“Okay, okay,” he grinned.
“You can be demanding.” Jorge reached into his bag and pulled out a box of dos biscuits. Once he opened the box he headed over and dropped a couple of them into Lizzie’s bowl.
“No more than that, I don’t want you spoiling your dinner.”Jorge sighed contentedly as he walked out of his small kitchenette and peeled off his trench and his coat. In just his white shirt and slacks, Jorge rolled up his sleeves as he kneeled down next to his tape deck and opened the cabinet doors underneath. There, in alphabetical order sat his pride and joy, his entire collection of tapes. He sighed as he ran his finger over them, trying to find the perfect sound to make dinner too. Finally he pulled on out, inserted it into the tape deck and cracked his music to a point that was not too loud for his neighbors to hear.
“Living easy, living free,
Season ticket on a one-way ride!!!”He grinned to himself as he headed into his kitchen and started to remove items from his grocery bag as the sounds of AC/DC’s “Highway to Hell” swirled around him. Lizzie looked up and tilted her head as she watched him strangled as he danced and air guitared a few times as he put away the last of his groceries. It was then that his small apartment became filled with the smell of cooking food. Along with the music of AC/DC, Jorge started mixing the batter and cutting up fruit.
“I’m on the Hiiiiiiiiighway to HELL,” Jorge sang as he folded in chopped peach bits into his bowl of batter.
His griddle on the stove top, Jorge poured the batter into four-inch circles as he continued to sing and flipped the pancakes over when they turned golden brown. Lizzie then stood and started to scamper from side-to-side as Jorge prepared his dinner of flapjacks. In the sweet smelling room, Jorge became someone he rarely ever let anyone see on the outside. At home he was someone who was happy, someone who still saw the good in life, someone who loved another creature unconditionally. At home, Jorge was Jorge, not Detective Cervantes.
After he turned off his griddle, Jorge sighed as he plated his pancakes, headed into his living room and flipped off the music. He set his plate aside on a small shelf as he reached up and pulled out his favorite, overly dog-eared book of “Crime and Punishment” by Dostoevsky. As he set himself on the sofa, Lizzie immediately scampered forward and jumped onto his lap, eyeing the pancakes hungrily. Jorge smirked as he pulled the top on off the pile and dropped it next to him on the sofa. Lizzie immediately had at it, as she nipped, licked and gnawed at it fluffy, golden brown pancake. Jorge smirked as he patted Lizzie between the ears, opened his book and started his dinner.
It was a good night.
