Through the tinted windows, he could see them turning off the lights. At least he assumed that the lights were being turned off, but it was hard to tell because the windows were tinted and hard to see through from the street. It didn’t matter, as long as they left the wireless network on. It might even be better this way, since they would not mind his standing right outside and sucking off their bandwidth. The signal was weak, but good enough for a VoIP connection which was all he needed.
The phone was at home as far as he knew. It could be on the floor boards of the cars somewhere. Or maybe in his office, but most likely it was at home. He had plugged it in to charge the night before and likely left it sitting on the windowsill like a pie put there to cool. Nobody would forget a pie, though, and he had forgotten his phone. Just another example of the ways in which he was slowly becoming his father. With a pair of earbuds in one hand and a credit card in the other, he fumbled to set up an account and make a call.
When he had managed to navigate the menus using only a touch screen, he placed the call only to reach a voicemail box. There was no callback number to leave, so he made a pledge to call back in 15 minutes on this unfamiliar number. In the meantime, there was nothing to do but check the same places again and see if they had shown up yet. This meant leaving a reliable if weak data connection, but there was nothing much happening on the block to compel him to stay.
He passed a garden gate emanating curry and lemongrass, guarded by an altar of small stones and candles. If he could not find them, maybe he would duck in here for spring rolls and tea. Glancing inside, he saw a mother nursing her infant and was immediately ashamed to have intruded on their privacy. An ice cream would be a better choice at this time of night anyway. The two men walking toward him on the other side of the street looked like they would be drunk tonight if they were not already, and he was not put at ease by one’s greeting. So he walked a little faster, hoping they would be there when he got there.
More lights struggled against the heavy night air at the top of the hill. Across the intersection, drums reverberated out of the darkness as musk and tobacco pulsed out from a large crowd. In front of him, a smaller group of people encircled a silver girl who would not move unless they paid her. They seemed to be curious as to how long she would wait. She seemed to want to know the same thing about them. He was not sure how to navigate between this and the larger assembly without disturbing either or both.
He had to continue if he was going to find them tonight. The lights in the trees winked at the candles on the restaurant tables, which returned the grace. Diners laughed and leered. This place reminded him of the time he had gone to that place that reminded him of this place. He wondered if he would ever get back there and remember where he was now. Or would he forget, like with his phone. Or almost forget, and then remember that he was going to meet them as soon as he could get across the street with a crosswalk but no stop light. Fortunately, a cripple crossing from the opposite side stopped traffic, and they met in the middle.
When he got there, they were not there. At least they were not upstairs, and some of the people who were sitting at the bar looked at him funny because he had done this before. So he went downstairs to find that they were not there either. Wait. Maybe that was the one from the north. No, he did not think so. He needed another wireless connection. He had to try again. He passed through the stone door and into the rest of the night.
There were sirens everywhere and no one was moving except for the people waving. Then the sirens were gone but the people were still not moving. He heard the drums again, this time on his left. They had not moved. Some of the people around them were dripping across the avenue toward him. He worried that they would ask him to help them find what they were looking for. He did not want to find their thing, even though he probably knew where it was. He wanted to find his thing, but he did not have a clue about it.
At the next intersection there was a girl like the silver girl except that her dress was white and she was a boy. The boy had a decent chest and probably shaved his legs, but it was pretty evident to him that this was a boy. That a man with a college degree could still be considered a boy was another indication of how close he was to becoming his father. The boy in the white dress was a bit more aggressive with his stare, not wanting to be made to wait. The tourists eating noodles laughed. He thought he might find a connection in the cupcake shop, but they were closed with all the lights on.
So he just whipped it out on the street to see if there was any hope for making a call, and in fact there was. If he got voicemail this time, he would have to leave another message and go home. Home is where his phone was. With his phone he could try again tomorrow night, which might be better anyway. The line rang. They might be sick of each other at that point and ready for him to lift the mood. He was not sure if he could get away from home for another night. The line rang again. He wondered if so many people were interested in the buskers who looked like Lauryn Hill and her guitar player because they might be Lauryn Hill and her guitar player. The line rang a third time. He was clearing his throat to leave the message when they answered.