Two Left Shoes

“2 traveling salesman,  

passing each other,  

on a Western road” 

-Jack Kerouac 

Two left shoes. Two leather, unlaced, shoes, one brown and one black, sat on the roof of the silver Lexus parked underneath Constance’s window.  

It was mid-morning and she had decided she was still feeling too ill to go to school. So for the third day in a row, she would keep to her house. Feeling claustrophobic and curious as to the goings-on outside, pressed her face to the window above her bed. The red brick of the building opposite her stared back. She pulled her face from the glass and rubbed the breathy fog away with her sleeve. “Gross.”  

Hot air rushed into her cooled room as she opened the window. It was too hot to be mid-morning. The heat felt desperate to change the temperature, desperate for air domination. Her folded arms pressed against the cool metal on the window frame as she hung half her body out the second-story window, peering curiously below. Her long black hair suspended around her face, providing a tunnel vision shot of the odd image that lay below her. 

She saw the car lights flash and a faint beep, beep. The smell of hot trash concentrate rang sharply into her nose, as a woman rounded the corner of the alleyway from the left. She pulled her body back inside. “Kitty, there’s a car with two left shoes on top of it,” she called to her older sister.  

*** 

“Ouch- fuck.” The rhythmic crunch of broken concrete from Sam’s footsteps echoed back to her that she was only wearing one shoe. She stopped, standing crooked as if on a hill, and reached into her bag, searching frantically for the familiar grainy plastic of her car keys. Beep, beep.  

She walked forward, barely stepping around the brown beer glass on the way to her car. The door handle was hot, and opening it quickly spotted the shoes on the roof. “Oh thank god- he remembered.” She threw them in the car. 

With one right shoe on, and two left shoes in her passenger seat, she started the vehicle and blasted the air conditioning. “Christ!” The car blew fiery air into her face. “Trying to blowtorch my bloody eyebrows off, this fucking thing! I swear to god!” She rapaciously grasped at the AC controls. She slowed her voice, her volume raised. With every word, she slammed her other hand against the dashboard. “You piece of mother-fucking shit.” 

*** 

Haru was on their way to school. An earphone in their right ear, the soft tones of “Stormy Weather” by Etta James whistled a sweet contrast against the screaming woman in the alleyway they strolled past. She looked like she was having a rough day, though it was too early to be having a rough day. Haru was going to have a good day. They walked slowly, already an hour late for their 9:00 am class. What would a few extra lost minutes really do?  

Their left earphone swayed against their chest as they walked, a gentle bump bump. They looked at the sky: the sun was bright today. If they hadn’t checked the weather earlier, they would’ve worn a turtleneck and died. That was good of them.  

The song closed, James’ “Fire” came on. With a trumpet blare, Haru’s pace increased, rhythmically melting their steps into the new music. Reaching a crosswalk they waited for the little man to blink green. Bink Bink Bink. They closed their eyes and opened their hands wide as they moved across the road. The lyrics sung: Your touch is all it takes to start the fire in me, You the one who can turn me on like a tv!  

Haru’s hand unexpectedly went cold, as they reached the opposite curb. They opened their eyes to what appeared to be ice cream, smeared across their palm. Haru spotted a colorful pond of melting desert in the crosswalk before a honking of horns paraded cars into the intersection. They saw a tire roll through it, crushing whatever shape still held of the scoop.  

*** 

Foop. A hand smacked into Cory’s ice cream. The iridescent sherbet kissed the ground. He turned to look at the instigator as they walked away, but they had disappeared into the crowd of humming people. He earnestly squeezed his grandfather’s hand. “Grandpa!” He pulled at Sandro’s arm, “It’s been taken!” Cory held up his hand to him, displaying a waffle cone dripping with the colorful remnants of an invisible scoop. “Cory, what happened? I told you to eat it quickly before it melts.” The two faced each other as Cory’s surprise drifted into confusion. The cars drove by them, air flapping at his loose shirt. He could see his grandfather standing quietly as pity overwhelmed the old man’s face. “Alright.” Sandro picked up Cory’s other hand and turned back to the street. “We’ll go back and get another one. Press the button there- the walking one with the little man on it. Good boy.” 

*** 

Olivia laughed as she watched a kid cross the street, his face comically addled by the unfortunate events. “Annie, did you see that!?” Her booming laugh ricocheted around the car. “It was like a cartoon!” She looked over at her girlfriend in the passenger seat. Annette was on the phone, unresponsive. “It was hysterical, I’m not joking.” She hit the back of her hand on Annette's shoulder, unable to control her amusement, but Annette’s eyes were frozen. She was staring at something that was not in the car. Olivia stopped laughing, her eyes sank immediately, mouth gaping. “Oh my god, no. Annie.” Annette looked over at her with a still face as her phone fell onto her lap. She placed her hands slowly over her eyes as her head sank to her knees. 

*** 

The light turned green, the car in front of Midas didn’t move. He slammed his hand into the center of the steering wheel. A blaring sound roared from his van. It didn’t flinch. He rolled down his window to denote his annoyance, “FUCKING MOVE.” It crept slowly into the street, its blinker turning on in the middle of the intersection. “Oh great, this idiot’s going left, too.” He mumbled. Turning onto the new street, the car continued to crawl. Midas passed it on the right, “LEARN TO FUCKING DRIVE OR GET OFF THE ROAD,” he thundered, his hand pressing firmly on the horn.  

His foot on the gas, he smiled at himself, “Serves them fucking right.” 

*** 

Ren recoiled at the volume of the car horn sounding by. “Maybe we shouldn’t have sat outside,” he noted. “The chairs are a little close to the road, but it’s alright,” Sophia comforted. The waiter brought out a drink. “Cappuccino?” “That’s mine, thanks.” He set the drink down. “I’ll be back in a second with the other one.”  

Ren stared amusingly as Sophia poured four packs of sugar into the cup. She smiled widely at him and placed the empty pink packets next to her phone, just as it buzzed. Peering at it as she sipped she said, “Oh fuck. Josh wants to try anal tonight.” The waiter appeared, a pressed smile on his face, as he set down the next drink. She put her cup down. “I am sorry- that you had to hear that, sir.” The waiter turned away. They sat silently, laughter quietly throwing Ren’s body forward. His head smacked onto the table, hand rushing to his head as his wheezing broke out. Sophia gasped, unable to breathe from the cackles that escaped her. 

*** 

Andrei nodded as he turned, trying to hold down his laughter until he was a respectable distance away from the girl. His shoes clicked gently onto the tile floor as he entered the cafe, quickening in pace as he made his way to Ruby. She stood at the counter. He interrupted the tune she was humming, “The funniest thing just happened.” He whispered to her. Ruby looked up at him from the coffee she was pouring, smiling expectantly, “What?” He stared at her. She looked really good with her hair pulled back. 

“Andrei!” Iov called, “I need your help for a moment!” He was not angry, but his harsh accent demanded that he needed him now. “I’ll be right back.” He turned, pushing the swinging kitchen doors out of his way as the smell of baked goods flushed his senses. He saw Iov by the back door, scribbling on a note that he held up against the wall. Andrei walked forward, dancing around the baker who weaved her way between different countertops.  

“Take this,” Iov handed him the paper, slamming it into Andrei’s chest “Beatrice forget to place the order for next week, so Midas is going to drive by in a second to collect it.” He crumpled his eyebrows, “I need you to tell Midas that we do not need his services anymore.” Andrei blinked, Iov walked away. Making his way to the back, he remembered the time Iov had decreased his order of flour and sugar from him. There was yelling, and Iov had the energy of a territorial swan the rest of the day.  

A white van was already creeping its way down the alley when he opened the door. Its wheels crunched broken glass farther into the cracked road. The car bobbed among the potholes like a bird sitting on stormy waters. It pulled forward. The engine turned off. A tall man walked toward Andrei, his protruding belly pushed at his stained shirt and a bushy grey mustache rustled when he licked his lips. His face was the same color as the red lettering peeling off of his van:    NIDAS’ OELIVERY SE  VIC  S.  

*** 

Kitty’s footsteps were louder in the hall. She made her way down a flight of stairs, her hand tracing the cold metal railing. She noted the change on Mrs. O’Reilly’s door wreath. Kitty smiled. Their downstairs neighbor had finally replaced the one from Easter with her summer one: various rubber ducks in swimsuits. She walked down another flight of steps, pleased with the way her shoes clicked on the concrete, a blur of yellow and pink polka dots dancing below her eyesight. 

  When she reached the door, she pushed it open with a click and blinked her eyes at the brightness. She checked her right for passing cars but was instantly drawn to two men in the middle of the alley. She tilted her head out the door to observe as the heat of the day hit her face. Kitty inspected as the larger man bellowed complaints; his voice echoing between the closely positioned buildings. She stepped out quickly. She had better go left instead.