6/18/13

Through the Peephole
By T. E. Mentecki II


I watch them every other Saturday morning. They don’t see me, but I see them. I can’t hear them. They can’t hear me. I am here because I work here. I don’t know why they are here for sure. I see many people, but these two are my favorite. I have come to love them.

Maybe I love them because they are always beautiful. The man always in suits, and dress shoes. The woman is always in dress pants and flowery shirts. She reminds me of summer time. He reminds me of New York City. Normally I start watching them put on their clothes. They sleep in the nude, I think.

Sometimes though, I catch them with their clothes off, sheets up to their necks, nuzzling each other in the beds they slide together. They are lovers. Maybe they are secret lovers, star crossed but locked in a dangerous affair. I like to imagine his wife says things to him like, “ How come you can never do anything right, you are just like your father, worthless!” He does everything right, and he is a better man then his father, she just doesn’t appreciate him. The woman, who reminds me of summer, her husband likes to stay up late and drink heavily, and he is very angry. They aren’t bad people; they are trapped people like little mice in a corner facing a cobra. The little mice get to spend this time together free of their cobras. This is my favorite story of them.

Every other Saturday morning, they hold hands across our outside patio tables and drink room service coffee. They smile and laugh. I can’t hear the laughter, but I know that is what they are doing. They play with each other’s feet under the table, and I like to think they make plans to run away together to Aruba. I went there once, and they would be happy there. They always seem happy. They seem to be in love. I knew love once, a girl named Olga, an odd name, but she was nice to me. She went away though and now she is happy.

Today, as I looked through my peephole things are different. They seem distant and sad. I think they won’t be able to meet for a while. My mom told me once that absence makes the heart grow fonder. They will grow fonder of each other. The next time they meet things will be wonderful.

The man in the suit seems very upset, and the woman who is like summer, she is crying. I don’t understand what could be happening. My dad used to make my mom cry until he went away. This man is not like my father; he is a nice man, isn’t he? The woman gets up and walks outside. The man follows. Normally, I only watch but today, I was worried about them, so I moved to a small window near my peephole to hopefully listen.

“Martha, I don’t mean to make you cry but I feel like we can’t make this work.” Said the man in the suit.

“Peter, things have been wonderful, what is wrong now?”

“I…just feel…I feel like everything is put on, like a show we are acting out.”

“A show, I have given you everything over these past 10 years and you want to call it quits?”

“Oh Martha, I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“One more time Peter, let’s try this one more time, next Friday night, we stay here together, have our Saturday morning together, and if that isn’t enough, then we can do things your way.”

“Fine, Martha, one more try, for you.”

I made an excited sound and they looked suspiciously at the small window. I was out of sight though. I wanted to be safe so I moved back to my peephole. The fighting has stopped but they didn't say much when they came back inside. The woman who reminded me of summer, she left the room. The man in the suit sat down and buried his face in his hands. This made me worry more.

They were little mice in a corner, I knew it, and these big evil cobras had made a move to stop them from meeting here every other Saturday morning. I loved them and wanted to help. I could not let them be apart. They loved each other, and had plans to move to Aruba, and hold hands while drinking room service coffee. I knew what I had to do.

I would help them go away. Like my mom made my dad go away, or like when I helped Olga go away. My mom said that going away sometimes made people really happy. I wanted them to be really happy. So I would make them go away.

Not this coming Saturday, but the Saturday after that, they would be here. They would put on their clothes, him his suits and her, her summer shirts. They would drink their room service coffee. Then I will knock on their door and help them go away forever, where they can be happy together.


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My name is Troy E. Mentecki Jr. I am currently studying at Full Sail University for my degree in Creative Writing. I have been writing fiction since I was 10 years old.