Fritz & Zooey #13

They were let off into a dim hallway where Reid began to fumble for a set of keys. Zooey stayed close to Reid, so that she would not get lost in the dark shrouded nothingness.

“Come on,” he said, “just follow my voice.”

“You know,” Zooey said, “this makes me think of a horror movie, and I’m probably going to die some kind of romantically gruesome death.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Reid said, jamming his key into the lock, “come in.”

He flipped a lightswitch and they both emersed themselves into a palace of gaudiness.

“Oh holy grail, you uncovered the lost kingdom of Zsa Zsa Gabor,” Zooey said, mouth gaping open. She looked down at the creamy pink shag pile, up to the pink and cream striped wallpapering, the gold wainscoating, gold framed technicolour photos of prize winning pomeranians, and glittering crystal light fixtures.

“Please tell me you are’nt…” Zooey started.

“No,” Reid said plainly, “I think I have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Um,” Reid said looking around nervously, “Yeah, I did not do this.

“Do what?” Zooey said in awe, “Pillage Jayne Mansfield’s castle?”

“You’d think that right,” he said with a laugh, “To be honest, this isn’t exactly my apartment. I sort of inherited it.”

“From who?” Zooey said curiously, “You had some relative that was a Hollywood starlet from the golden era?”

“My grandmother,” Reid said grimly.

“Okay, that explains a lot, but what I’d like to know is how you inherit an apartment,” Zooey said demandingly.

“Well, she owned it, and I was the only person left around to give stuff to when the time came, so here we are,” he said, moving farther down the hallway.

“Reid?” Zooey said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“You’re my hero,” she said earnestly, playing with a pink tassel that hung from a light fixture.

“Um, thank you?” Reid said, glancing nervously over his shoulder at Zooey.

“Oh yeah any—” Zooey stopped short, looking around the granduer of the main room, and she quietly gasped.

“Yeah, I never really had the heart to redecorate,” Reid said looking around alongside Zooey, “And you know what, I don’t think the old crone hadn’t even lived in this apartment since the mid sixties, it smelled like mothballs when I moved in.”

“So, this place is like some kind of time capsule playground?” Zooey said energetically.

“Pretty much,” Reid sighed, taking off his coat and hat, and laying them over the back of a gold velvet sofa.

“Would you be disturbed if I just started singing Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend? Because it just seems highly appropriate right now,” Zooey said with a smile, seating herself in a matching gold velvet armchair

“Would you like a drink?” Reid asked casually.

“I would, make it a Manhatten,” Zooey called, as Reid headed towards the mirror top mini-bar.

While Reid poured the drinks, Zooey pulled a sleeping Mr.Williamson out from her bag. He resisted groggily, and she set him down on the sofa, where he rolled over onto his back, and continued his napping.

Reid came back, and handed Zooey a martini glass and sat opposite her, sipping on scotch.

“Ooh, this looks so delicious I could just dance without abandon,” Zooey said taking a sip, “And it is. Reid, you are a marvelous bartender.” She sunk back into the chair, and they shared a content silence, sipping occasionaly.

“We could really use some music,” Reid said, draining his scotch, and standing up to leave momentarily. He came back holding a record and a smile on his face. Zooey hadn’t noticed the retro soundsystem next to the fake ficus plant that had been obscuring its view.

He dropped the needle and after a few scratches, loud music filled the room. Zooey instantly recognized the song and jumped up.

“Raw Power!” She screamed, and began to dance without abandon, dragging Reid along with her.

Zooey was performing some kind of punching-the-air-with-her-fist-in-a-demonic-ritual-kind-of-way dance. Reid wondered how Iggy Pop could have such a voodoo power over her body movements.

“RAAAW POWERRRR !” Zooey growled along with the music, “Come on Reid, feel it!”

“Um, that’s okay,” he said looking nervous, “I think you might have had enough to drink.”

“NONSENSE!” Zooey yelled over the music. She grabbed Reid’s hands, which were cold to the touch, and began to swing them in unison with her own. Reid could begin to feel his tension go away, and before he knew it, they were both screaming along and jumping.

When the song was over, Reid turned the stereo down to a respectable noise level and they collapsed back into their chairs.

“Aah, don’t you just love how that song makes you feel?” Zooey asked Reid earnestly.

“Usually, it just makes me hungry for pancakes, but now I really see what you’re saying,” Reid said, “I probably won’t ever look at that album the same way, but hey…”

The End

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