Chasing Manhattan Page 5

  Raylan said, “Put yourself in my shoes.”

  Chase thought a moment. “I guess I can see your point,” she said. “But you never said anything to me about who I am or the book?”

  Raylan paused and then pointed to the scar that covered the right side of his face, “Did you ever ask me how I got this?”

  Chase replied, “You told me at war but …”

  Raylan brought his hand down from the scar that stretched from his ear lobe all the way down to his neckline adding, “But you never pressed me for details, did you?”

  Chase looked away a moment, then back at Raylan, “No. I thought that was private.”

  Raylan nodded in agreement. “Exactly. And I figured if you went to all that trouble to hide who you were from me, I’d respect it.”

  Chase thought another second and said, “And those girls, the one with my book?”

  Raylan nodded, “Yeah, I figured you wanted your privacy, so I didn’t want them recognizing you and blowing your cover. That’s why I didn’t shout your name across the cafe. Chase is a pretty unique name, especially for a girl, don’t ya think?”

  Chase felt the urge to hug Raylan at that moment for protecting her, but instead said, “Thank you for that.”

  Gavin appeared at the kitchen door and said playfully, “Does someone want to tell me what all the cloak and dagger is about?”

  Chase immediately went over and rubbed Gavin’s back, saying, “Raylan was protecting me, that’s all.”

  Gavin didn’t understand what they were talking about, but he looked at Raylan and said, “Thanks, man.”

  As the three went to leave the kitchen and go back into the café, Chase noticed another small box with tin foil covering it, much like the one she’d left on the stairs the day before.

  “Hey,” she said to Raylan, pointing at the box, “Is that like the other one? Do you need it to be left on the stairs?”

  Raylan looked back at the box on the counter and said, “It is.”

  Gavin put his arm around Chase as she asked Raylan, “Who picks it up? What’s this about?”

  Raylan smiled in a way that made you forget he had that nasty scar. “Just helping a guy out, that’s all. Hey, if you want to meet him …”

  With that he looked down at his wristwatch, before adding, “Bring it out in exactly eleven minutes. That’s when he comes by to get it. His name is Oscar. You know, like the guy in the Muppets.”

  Chase loved a mystery, so she picked up the box of treats and said, “You got it.”

  Gavin looked at her and asked, “Does this mean we’re not going for a walk in the park?”

  Chase hugged him back and said, “No, we’re going. I just need to meet someone first.”

  As they swung open the kitchen door and returned to the café, Deb could be heard back on the laptop computer, which was propped up near the cash register, “I still think it’s GERD.”

  They all laughed as Chase’s phone, which was in her front pocket, began to buzz.

  Gavin looked at her inquisitively as she pulled it out and held it up so he could read who was calling: Jennifer from college. Again.

  “She must have something good for you to be this persistent,” Gavin said.

  Chase paused a moment, looking at the phone, then hit the button to answer and raised it to her ear.

  “Hey Jen, really quick. No, I’m not still in Vermont. Yes, I may be interested in whatever you want to pitch me, and at the risk of being rude I’ll have to call you back in a bit.”

  Chase looked down at the tray of day-old muffins and said, “Right now I’m on the way to meet a Muppet.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Oscar

  Chase and Gavin left the café and walked around to the back of the brownstone. A set of narrow wooden stairs led to the back of Chase’s apartment, and Gavin made quick use of them, dashing up and calling back to her, “I’ll throw my sneaks on and get ready for our walk. It’s such a nice day for it.”

  With that, Gavin looked up at the bright blue sky doing its best to peek through the tall Manhattan skyline, and then disappeared behind the brown door above.

  Chase was holding the small tray of treats and was about to sit on the steps and wait for this Oscar fella to show up, when she noticed movement to her left. Behind the café was a dumpster, a small red picnic table, and a long black wrought iron fence with peeling paint. Attached to the fence was a long white rope that stretched a good twenty feet, and on the other end was a small white dog with a thick, fluffy tail. Even from this distance, Chase recognized the pup as one of the shelter dogs Raylan had taken in with the hope of adopting it out.

  The dog looked very happy, bouncing around and wagging that tail like a well-oiled helicopter blade. The source of his joy was a man in his early forties, with dark hair and a light complexion, of average build and wearing some kind of green jumpsuit. It was the kind of outfit you saw auto mechanics wear as they worked in the garage all day, minus the grease. This green jumpsuit was pristine and fit the man like a glove.

  Chase watched as the man raised his right hand and touched the tip of his nose with his index finger. Chase’s eyes went back to the dog, and she could see the puppy was locked in on the man’s every movement. It looked like he was training the dog without uttering a single command. He dropped his hand for a moment, then after he touched his nose again the dog sat. Then he took the same finger and made a circular motion and the pup spun itself in a circle. Chase giggled loud enough for the man to hear, she was so amused by the trick. He then held up his hand in a fist and the dog stopped and stood there. Then he touched his nose a third time and the dog sat again, prompting the man to give her a small treat he had kept hidden away in his right front pocket. After the dog took the treat, the man in the solid green jumpsuit smiled and gave the puppy a big thumbs up, prompting the dog to leap up and give him a kiss. All of this dog training happened in absolute silence.

  Chase, sensing the dog’s lesson might be over, approached the man with the tray of treats Raylan had set aside. She said, “Hi, is your name Oscar?”

  The man smiled warmly and said, “That’s what they call me.”

  Chase handed him the tray and said, “Hi, I’m Chase. I think this is for you.”

  Oscar smiled and did an exaggerated bow at the waist, saying in a fake English accent, “Thank you, milady.”

  “That was amazing, what you just did with that dog,” Chase blurted out.

  Oscar smiled like a proud papa and said in his normal voice, “Yeah, not bad, and this is only our …” Then he paused, scrunching his face a bit as if he were thinking, then continued, “… fourth time, I think. Training her. She caught on much quicker than the others.”

  Chase bent down to pet the puppy and noticed that her white cloth collar read Ella. “Hi, Ella,” she said, rubbing the small dog’s head. “What breed is she, do you know?” she asked.

  “Beats me,” he said. “She looks like she has some chow or terrier in her, but I’m pretty sure she’s a mutt. And I mean that in the nicest way.”

  Chase was down on one knee now, continuing to rub Ella’s head and chest with her finely manicured nails.

  “My pup likes it when I do this. You like that, sweetie?” she said to the dog.

  Oscar, stealing a glance at what was hiding under the tin foil on the tray, returned his eyes to Chase and said, “Yeah, that’s right. I’ve seen you with your dog walking in the neighborhood.”

  Chase stood up and thought a moment before saying, “I don’t think I’ve seen you, until today.”

  Oscar then ran over to the dumpster. “I’ll bet you have. Does this look familiar?” he said, and hoisted his body up over the edge of the large garbage container and reached in, leaving only his backside and legs dangling in the air.

  Chase didn’t respond, uncertain of what to say. Oscar popped back out and said, “I’m a dumpster diver. Searching for empty bottles and cans for the deposits.”

  Chase nodded. “Ah, gotcha. I’m
surprised I didn’t recognize the bottom of your feet, then,” she said with a smile.

  Oscar rubbed his hands against his legs to dust them off before picking up the tray of slightly stale muffins and scones.

  Chase noticed at that moment that he was in good shape for his age and said, “Hey, there’s no way you eat that stuff every day. You’d be 300 pounds.”

  Oscar scratched his chin, pretending to ponder something, and said, “Maybe I have a super high metabolism.” Then he gave Chase a curious look.

  She tipped her head to the side, trying to figure out if this man was serious, when he said, “I’m teasing you. No, I don’t eat them. I bring them to Mercy House, the homeless shelter around the corner. Have you seen it? It has a big cross above the front door. Half the light bulbs are out though, so when they light it up at night it looks more like an exclamation point than a cross.”

  Chase shook her head, then said, “Well, that’s nice of you to come get these treats and donate them.”

  Oscar pointed to a large plastic bag filled with empty bottles and cans and added, “That’s where the nickel deposits go, too—Mercy House.”

  Chase assumed in that instant that Oscar must be a man down on his luck who was doing his best to help himself and others.

  Then she got an idea, asking, “Hey, are you good with all dogs? I mean not just this one here.” Chase was pointing down to Ella, who was sitting attentively looking up at them.

  She continued, “I ask because, well, I had a thought. If the boss in there is cool with it, would you want a job walking the shelter dogs he lets into the cafe? I’m sure he’d pay you.”

  Oscar bit down on his bottom lip like he was pondering some great life mystery and took a long pause to consider what she was saying.

  Finally, he spoke, “Um, can I give you two answers to that question? YES, I’d love to help walk the dogs, but NO, I don’t want to be paid. I’d be doing it just because.”

  Chase looked him dead in the eye trying to understand why a man who rummaged through garbage for nickel deposits would say no to easy cash, asking, “Just because? Don’t ya like money, Oscar?”

  The man in green bent down again to pat Ella on the head and said, “Oh sure, who doesn’t? But for this job, helping with the dogs, I’d like to do it for fun, ya know?”

  Chase could see he was sincere, so she replied, “Okay, whatever you want. But I should go in and clear it with Raylan, the boss. You wanna meet him?”

  Oscar looked shy, now, turning his face away from her. “Nah, I met him once or twice before when he saw me taking empty bottles out of the trash. When I told him what the money was for, Mercy House, he offered me the day-old baked goods to take over too. He leaves them on the back stairs every day at noon. He’s a nice guy and all, but since this dog walking stuff was your idea …”

  Chase understood, and she finished Oscar’s sentence: “You’d rather I spoke to him about it. I get it. No worries.”

  As Chase started toward the stairs to join Gavin for their walk in the park, Oscar said, “You’re a nice lady. Thank you for bringing this tray of treats to me and for the dog walking job.”

  Chase stopped on the third step when the writer in her head kicked in, wondering aloud, “Hey, Oscar. When I asked you if that was your name, Oscar, you said, ‘That’s what they call me.’ Is that a nickname?”

  He smiled, looking up at Chase, who was standing on the stairs, and said, “Good catch. No, the truth is they call me Oscar because before I go dumpster diving, I put on this green outfit they gave me at Mercy House, to keep my regular clothes from getting dirty.”

  Chase was not following but said, “Okay.”

  Oscar continued, “And since I’m always in green and in a garbage can, someone said I reminded them of Oscar from Sesame Street.”

  Chase hadn’t watched the children’s show in thirty years, so she searched her confused brain, and then finally asked, “Isn’t the guy in the garbage can blue?”

  Oscar let out a loud belly laugh now. “Oh my, NO, that’s the cookie monster. How do you not know that?”

  Oscar then imitated the cookie monster’s voice saying, “ME WANT COOKIES!!!!”

  Chase laughed and could imagine it now. “Geez, you’re right. And wait, the green one was a grouch. Oscar the Grouch.”

  Oscar gave her a thumbs up like the one he’d given the puppy earlier, and then said, “Now you got it.”

  Chase caught herself laughing and then finally said, “But wait, you don’t seem very grouchy.”

  Oscar shook his head side to side and smiled widely saying, “God, no. I love life and people. Every day is a gift.”

  Chase let out a deep breath. “Well, this has been fun. I have plans with my boyfriend right now, but I’ll talk to Raylan later today about the dog walking job that pays nothing.”

  Oscar gave the dog Ella one last hug and said, “Sounds good, Chase.”

  With that, Chase bounced up the stairs to tell Gavin about her new friend, as the man named after a Muppet made his way through the alley to take the occupants of Mercy House a perfect midday snack.

  CHAPTER 8

  Raylan

  An unseasonably warm breeze was blowing through Manhattan, so Raylan took a large white stone he had found years earlier walking alongside Cape Cod Bay and used it to prop open the café’s front door. Of all the t-shirts and souvenirs he’d purchased over the years on vacations, it was that silly rock he picked up for free that got the most use. His rock from Rock Harbor, he called it.

  After finishing her walk with Gavin, Chase went downstairs to buy a bottle of cold water and talk to Raylan about Oscar and the dogs. She opened the door, and then stopped and stared, taking a moment to drink in the charm of the place. The building was built at the turn of the twentieth century, so the floorboards were wide and creaky, adding to the allure of the café. The scent of rich coffee filled the air as light music played over hidden speakers. The music was never too loud—Raylan made sure of that. He hated being in a place where the music was so distracting that you couldn’t hear yourself think or carry on a decent conversation.

  New York City is a melting pot of faces and cultures, and this was always evident in the customers that filled the chairs and tables of Raylan’s place. Chase glanced around the room, taking in the patchwork of customers. Two couples, both in their twenties, were laughing out loud at something one of them was showing the others on their phone. A man with shaggy long hair and a guitar case in hand was pinning a yellow flier to the bulletin board to the left of the main counter, a singer no doubt advertising an upcoming gig or looking for work.

  Then, Chase smiled as she saw a familiar face. It was the older woman from the day before, the one who was barking about a dog being loose in an establishment that served food and drinks. Chase struggled to remember her name.

  “Delores something, I think,” Chase said to herself.

  Chase was smiling because the well-dressed older woman was reaching under her small table to pet Penelope, the rescue mutt she had just met not twenty-four hours earlier.

  Chase watched a moment and then giggled as Delores took a piece of the blueberry scone from a tiny brown bag and lowered it down to feed the already chubby Pug. The dog wiggled her back end in a dance of joy, as the woman looked up and realized Chase was watching her. Chase waved hello and gave a look that said, It’s okay, you can feed her if you like, no judgments here.

  “Where’s the handsome farmer?” a voice asked from behind. It was Raylan wiping down a table and clearing out some trash a customer left behind.

  Chase turned and said, “He’s upstairs chilling out. I came down to see you. I have a proposition for you.”

  Raylan kept wiping, then adjusted the empty chair, making the seat look more inviting. “Wouldn’t that be a preposition?” he replied. “You’re a writer, right? Don’t you guys talk like that?”

  Chase laughed, “Preposition, proposition, Preparation H for all I care. Do you want to hear some good new
s or not?”

  Raylan took a seat in the chair he had just pushed under the table, placed his cleaning cloth down, and said, “Hit me with it.”

  Chase grabbed the chair on the opposite side of the table and began, “So, Oscar, the guy who collects bottles and you give the leftover food to: turns out he’s awesome with dogs. I saw him teaching tricks to the little white one you have. I asked him …” Chase paused now, second-guessing her boldness in this moment.

  Raylan put his elbows on the table in front of him, resting his face in both his hands like a cradle. “You asked him what?”

  Chase swallowed a bit, then said, “I know it wasn’t really my place, but I asked him if he wanted to walk the dogs for you, as a kind of job. And before you freak out, it won’t cost you a penny.”

  Raylan considered what she said. “Why won’t it cost me?” he replied.

  Chase lit up. “’Cause he said he’d do it for free. Not my idea. I told him you’d pay him, but he said, nope, free. See what a good negotiator I am for you!”

  Raylan smiled, “Oh yeah, I can see it.”

  Raylan liked Chase, but not because of her obvious beauty or charm. There was a kindness to her that made him feel good being around her. She made him forget how he looked.

  In that instant he could tell Chase was fixated on the scars on the right side of his face, and he touched them, saying, “Oh this. Yeah. How about that. You never do ask about it. I appreciate that. You’re a real friend.”

  Chase looked down, embarrassed that he had caught her staring, then raised her eyes to his and said, “Well you know what, because we are friends, I’m asking now. What did happen to cause that? I know you were in the military but …”

  Before she could finish the thought, Raylan got up abruptly and started walking toward the front counter without saying a word.

  Chase’s heart sank, thinking she’d pushed him too hard. She called out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean. It’s none of my … I’m sorry.”

  Raylan stopped and turned back, motioning gently with his hand, then said, “Wait. Just wait a moment.” He poured himself a hot coffee and, without putting cream or sugar in, returned to the table and sat across from her.