Window Watcher Page 2

  As the door slams, I laugh to myself at that last line. He really is adorable, even when he’s mad. I like him a lot, but love? I think it’s more like lust. And he’s too young to even know what love is. The twenties are for figuring out what you like and what you want to do with your life. He has plenty of time to fall in love and have a boyfriend or partner, or even get married if he wants to. I don’t know why he’s so hell-bent on wanting me to be his ‘boyfriend’. I think part of it is his friends have boyfriends so he wants to say he has one too. He’s young. My friend Kevin says guys that young are only good for one thing. Ha.

  I try to forget about Icarus being a little mad at me and do it the way I always do, getting lost in a world I’m creating. I spend the rest of the day writing the new book I’m working on and don’t get to bed until after midnight. Just as I do, I see the light go on in the guy’s window across the air well. My bed is in direct line with his window, and even with my shades down I can see the light of his bedroom window. Other nights I wouldn’t have even noticed the light on in his window, but now I’m looking for it. My curiosity gets the best of me, and I tip toe to the window and peek through the shades. As I look out into the outside world, again it hits me that just like when watching TV or being on my PC or phone, I am looking at something on the other side of a piece of glass. And it looks like my new favorite show is just starting.

  I see my modern James Dean standing sideways in the window and now he’s with another guy! He’s wrapped in the arms of a young Latin guy a bit shorter than him, who is very good looking— you might even say sizzling hot. Two guys in the same day. My window man gets around, and seems to like variety; this guy is really different from the earlier one. He’s dark haired and a few years older than my window man— and has a very nice body.

  The window man peels off his shirt and the other guy does the same. I realize I’m being a bit of a peeping Tom, but then again he is standing right in front of a window again, so he obviously likes to live dangerously. It sure seems like my neighbor likes to put on a little show. He could be anywhere in his apartment, but twice now has chosen to be right in front of the window when he starts fooling around with someone. This is no coincidence. He never looks out the window to see if anyone is looking, but he certainly has to be aware that someone could see him in action. I guess for every voyeur there is an exhibitionist.

  The other guy drops to his knees, but just like the last time, he pulls down the shade just as it’s getting good. This guy is such a tease! I sigh and step back away from the window. I laugh to myself about being so intrigued by this guy. It really is like a little peep show. Just then, I hear a loud slap and then some voices going back and forth. It sounds like the rough stuff is a regular part of his sex. I walk back to my bed and gulp some water and then get back into bed, thinking about my window man. It’s almost like getting little teasers from the beginning of a porno, except it is a live show in the window. It’s definitely a turn on. I fall asleep still thinking about him.

  I wake up and am a bit disoriented. I feel like I didn’t just wake up by chance, I feel like something woke me up. I look around into the dark room. I have a vague recent memory, but I can’t place exactly what it is. I try to remember and it comes to me. Did I just hear glass break and someone scream? Or was I dreaming? I look up and see the light is still on in the window, but just then goes out. Hmmm. Maybe his friend just left. I’m still not sure if I heard something or I dreamed it, but somehow the light going out just as I woke up and looked makes me think I did hear something. Glass breaking, and then a scream. I look back up to the window, but I can’t be sure.

  I scratch my head and sigh. It must be around two or three in the morning. Just then, it starts to sprinkle, and then quickly turns into a full rain. I love the sound of rain against the window at night. The sky lights up with a flash of lightening. That’s very rare in San Francisco. And then the boom of thunder. I look back up at the darkened window. I close my eyes and the sound of rain soon lulls me back to sleep.

  The Nightmare

  I wake up later, but it’s still dark and I very clearly recall the dream I just had. I am dressed in white, on a white silk sheeted bed, watching his window. He has on a black shirt as I can only see the top half of him. He undresses in a hazy, dream-like slow motion. He unbuttons his shirt slowly, one button at a time. His image is blurry in a sexy way almost like the window is steamed from taking a shower. The window then magically elongates so I can see him from head to toe. He pulls off his shorts and is totally naked. He then pulls a clear plastic shower curtain in front of him so now I can just see a blurry image of him except for his feet because the shower curtain doesn’t go all the way down. I can hear the shower and it almost echoes as though it were a much larger area, like a locker room. I then see another pair of feet appear next to him, and the blurred image of someone standing next to him. He grabs the shower curtain and pulls it all the way open so I can see them both. As I look at the other guy it gives me a chill because I suddenly realize the guy is me. It’s bizarre to be seeing myself in a dream, as if I’m watching myself instead of being myself. It’s a very strange feeling. Now I’m being watched and doing the watching at the same time. We start rubbing each other all over. He grabs the back of my head and turns it to the side and starts aggressively kissing my neck. It almost looks like he is going to bite it, like a vampire. He opens his mouth and bares his teeth. Damn I think he is going to bite my neck! Just then, the glass on his bedroom window shatters. Now his window is gone and there is nothing between us. I reach toward it from my bed. It is much closer to me than it would be in reality— I can almost touch it —and I seem to have no window of my own at all, in fact there is no wall on that side of my apartment. There is no wall between us. Oddly, I get the symbolism of that in my dream.

  Lightening lights up the dark sky. Thunder booms. I jerk my arm back as shards of glass from the window rain down into the air well and shatter even more when hitting the cement like big balls of hail. The lights flicker in the window man’s place. Thunder booms again. I see our two bodies moving against each other as the light outside and inside flickers at the same time. I see no blood on my neck so I guess he didn’t bite me after all. The window now lights up around the frame and glows a strange bluish light. The shattered pieces of glass now go in reverse, lifting up from the ground and going back up to the window and into place and the window is restored. The glowing blue frame begins to dim and then goes out. The flickering lights inside stop and go out. The lightening stops. It suddenly becomes dark and quiet. I can no longer see anyone in the window.

  Out of the dark, a barely visible hand reaches over and pulls down the white shade on his window. I look up into the sky above the window and thick fog covers a full moon. A large black crow flies across the sky and squawks. It flaps its large wings and transforms into a huge black bat just as the full moon reappears from the fog. I look back to the window and a single candle lights up and seems to be floating in the room. Blood begins to drip down from the top of the window shade. More and more blood drips down the shade. I squint at the sight of it, wondering what the hell this is about. The moon disappears behind the fog again. You can see no stars. It is dark.

  Suddenly I am in the room itself. I’m in his apartment, I think to myself. How did I get here? Where is he? I hear footsteps walk down the hall away from me. I look in that direction but see no one. The candle has disappeared and no lights are on, but the moonlight now comes through the window so that I can see. I feel wind. The candle lights again in the middle of the room, still floating in the air. The light of the candle blows almost out, as I feel the wind again. I faintly smell burning wood. I hear a sound near the ceiling and look up. A lightbulb turns on and I see a ceiling fan around it, just starting to turn. It gets faster and faster. The candle blows out as the wind from the fan gets stronger. The smell of burnt wood gets stronger. The bulb makes a crackling sound and something drips down from inside of it. It is dark red— it’
s blood. The lightbulb fills up with blood and then bursts. The blood drips onto the fan and it rotates and splatters the blood all over me and the rest of the room. With each rotation, more and more blood pours out of the bulb and the fan sprays more and more blood around the room. I can hear it splattering against the walls as the fan whips around and around. Each time it turns, it splatters me with blood too. It splatters across my chest, my face, and the top of my head. I stand there stunned, covered and dripping with blood. The blood has an odd smell, like iodine.

  I hear footsteps coming up the hall. I look but there is no one there. The fan goes faster and faster as more and more blood splatters faster and harder. The fan is now whizzing around at warp speed and smoke begins to come out of it. Sparks fly from it and the fan begins to wobble as it spins. Suddenly, it explodes. The fan flies off and slams against the wall and then crashes to the floor. The fan is still spinning but gets slower and slower until it finally stops. Smoke billows from it. The smell of burnt wood is stronger than ever. Blood drips from the top of the ceiling where the fan and bulb were. I start to cough because of the smoke. As I wave my hand at the smoke, the blind pulls itself down and the moonlight disappears. The sky and room are dark. The smell of smoke and burnt wood disappear in an instant. Suddenly I realize I am now lying in my own bed, looking up at the window.

  I hear a strange hissing sound coming from his window. As I stare at it wondering what the sound is, the shade suddenly flies up. I almost jump out of my skin. There is someone standing in the window. It’s not a shadow but the dark outline of someone and the sight of this person gives me chills. I can’t see a face but I sense evil. I then see a pair of eyes appear in the dark outline, looking right at me. It sends shivers up and down my spine. I cringe, feeling scared and startled. The head nods to me as he looks me dead in the eye. I have goosebumps up and down my arms. I literally shake in fear at the look coming from those eyes. It is like the devil is looking at me. I smell iodine and burning wood again. I look away from the evil eyes and lightning strikes and thunder booms again. When I look back up at the window, he is gone but there is a puff of gray smoke. It’s then I wake up. I take a deep breath. I can see the moonlight through my blinds. I can see his window through the thin slits. The window is dark. I shake my shoulders back and forth. That dream went from sexy to scary so fast I can hardly remember the sexy start. What the hell is that about? I look back up at the window and wonder. Was it just a nightmare, or is my subconscious trying to tell me something? Or worse yet trying to warn me of something?

  The Killer

  When I wake up I can’t help thinking about the guy in the window and the dream turned nightmare. What did it mean? I always try to figure out the meanings of my dreams, but sometimes they’re hard to figure. The parts that keep popping into my brain are the fan splattering the blood all over and when he eyeballed me from the window. That look still makes me shiver thinking about it now. I keep telling myself it was just a dream— but the way he looked at me —damn. It gives me the creeps and is hard to shake.

  After I get my potatoes cooking for breakfast, I walk into the front room and pull up the blinds on the four front bay windows. It’s pouring rain and the sky is gray today. Yesterday the sun was shining and I was feeling the warmth of spring. The weather sure turned fast. Hmmm, just like that dream last night. It’s one of those days you just want to stay inside. I know I do that a lot, but today I have a good reason. As I finish pulling up the last blind, I see a man walking out of the building with two huge black garbage bags. It seems like a lot of garbage. Is it my window man? He looks like him, but it’s hard to tell from behind, especially since he has a hoody on. It’s a weird time to take out the garbage. Then it hits me, where is he going with it anyway? All our garbage bins are in the back of the building. Any garbage you would just leave back there. It’s also strange that he would do this in the pouring rain since it was sunny yesterday and it’s supposed to clear up later today as well. He has no umbrella since his hands are full; his hoody is up but he’s still getting drenched. What could be so important he has to do that now— and where is he going with them? It’s odd. As he disappears around the corner, it is also obvious by the way he is carrying them that they are really heavy, even for someone as strong as he looks.

  A few minutes later, I go into the kitchen and flip my potatoes over and go out into the front room with my coffee. Instead of watching TV like I normally do, I sit in the chair in the far corner that faces the windows. I sit there and sip my coffee and watch the rain. Even though I like warm weather the best, I’ve always loved looking at and listening to the rain. A seagull flies by overhead; they usually aren’t this far inland, but sometimes during storms I’ll see them, maybe because it gets so rough down by the ocean. A woman hurries along the sidewalk with her umbrella mostly over her young son, but he seems to be oblivious to it the way he’s walking all over the place— he seems to be enjoying the rain more than Mom is. Just as they disappear from sight, I see the man I just saw with the garbage bags walking back toward the building without them. It is indeed my window man. It’s still raining hard and he hurriedly makes his way past my front windows and disappears from sight as the entrance to his part of the building is to the right of my windows.

  As I bring breakfast into the living room to eat and watch TV, I see my window man again with two more big garbage bags walking away from the building. What the hell is he getting rid of and why is he doing it in the pouring rain? I scratch my forehead as he disappears from sight and sit down to eat my breakfast. That’s so weird with the garbage bags— that’s four now —all in the pouring rain. I wonder what that’s about. Oh well I guess that’s his business but it’s so odd. Why does a man go out in the pouring rain with two huge garbage bags twice when there are plenty of trash cans in the back of the building?

  The rest of morning and afternoon are pretty routine, some TV, then I read a little followed by some writing on my PC. After dinner I do a little more writing then fall asleep that night wondering if I will have another dream or nightmare. Instead I wake up the next morning with no memory of a dream. Usually, I look forward to remembering my dreams, but this time I’m relieved I don’t. I guess I still could have had a nightmare, but I don’t remember it if I did. They say you dream every night even if you don’t remember it.

  I lose myself in my writing in the afternoon, and before I know it, it is almost time for dinner. Icarus is going to come by and said he’d bring the food. We get together almost every Friday and sometimes during the week as well. But mostly it is just sex. I know he wants us to be boyfriends, but I just don’t see it that way. He’s sexy and fun, but I just don’t want to be attached. Even though he was a little miffed when he left last time, he texted me since and seems to be over it. I knew he would be, he isn’t one to stay mad long. I’m not sure if that’s just his temperament or because he thinks he’ll eventually win me over to his way of thinking— maybe a little bit of both. I like that he doesn’t make a big drama out of nothing. I also thinks he knows any guy looking for a drama-filled soap opera romance with me will be getting the boot as fast as I can kick him out.

  A little after seven he arrives with a large pizza box.

  “Did you order a pizza?” he asks as I let him in.

  I smile and he then says, “Or was it a pizza boy fantasy you ordered?”

  I raise my eyebrows and smile. “Actually, both sound pretty good,” I tell him.

  He puts the pizza down on the coffee table and asks, “So which do you want first?”

  “Hmmm,” I say, rubbing my chin. “That’s a tough one, but I think we should eat the pizza while it’s hot. Of course, the pizza boy fantasy is pretty hot too— but that will still be hot later.”

  “Yes it will,” he says, “I’ll make sure of that.” He smirks and opens the lid of the pizza box.

  “I got all the things you like: broccoli, jalapeños, onions, and garlic with extra sauce and a thin crust.”

  He flash
es me a big smile, knowing he got everything right.

  “Fabu!” I exclaim. This is one time I’m not minding his perfection and he knows it. “It looks and smells delicious!”

  “Yeah it does, doesn’t it?” he agrees.

  “I’m going to get some Sprite, I’m guessing red wine for you?”

  “You guessed right,” he says. It’s kind of ironic that my drink of choice is more like a college or high school kid and his is more like someone my age or older. He definitely has an old soul. And I guess I am a bit of a Peter Pan. Or is it a Peter Pan complex?

  After we both wolf down two pieces of pizza each in about ten minutes, we finally come up for air.

  “This is fabulous,” I tell him. “It definitely hit the spot. I was starved.”

  “I can tell,” he says.

  “Hey, I notice you’re keeping up with me pretty well.”

  He smiles.

  “Yeah, I was hungry too and it is really good. What can I say? I deliver!”

  I laugh. “Yeah, you do.”

  “So can you believe it about the gay killer?”

  “Gay killer? What are you talking about?”

  “Oh my God, you haven’t heard? Are you living under a rock? You really need to come out of that writing cave once in a while. Everyone’s talking about it. There is some kind of gay serial killer in the city. Three gay guys were killed in two days! One was killed Sunday and then two more the next day.”

  “Oh my God, are you serious? I didn’t even hear about it.”

  “Yeah, and one of them lived pretty near here, the other two both lived in the Castro. They found all three dead bodies the same way: in a garbage can. Pretty gruesome, huh?”