Fiction by Ivy Dillinger
Two days ago, when Randolph Bloom - inventor of Mellivox, the world's most effective diet pill - stepped into his backyard to relax on his brand-new hammock with a Long Island iced tea and his Mozart-loaded iPod, he noticed something peculiar. Something extremely out of the ordinary. A woman in a blue bikini was reclining on his lawn and staring at him. Bloom removed his black horn-rimmed glasses, gave both eyes a good rub, then replaced his vision. She was still there. "This is peculiar," he said aloud. "This is extremely out of the ordinary."
He approached the woman and shyly informed her she was trespassing. The woman - a professional model named Sofia who'd been hired by Pfizer to distract Bloom while corporate burglars searched his home for documents pertaining to recent health-related discoveries - apologized and offered her hand. Bloom politely ignored the gesture and asked her to leave. Sofia smiled, more from surprise than rehearsed flirtation, and slowly rolled herself onto all fours. She arched her back for effect. Then she rose to full height with the perfect posture of the tutored. Bloom looked away.
"Do you really want me to leave?" she said.
"I'd appreciate it," said Bloom. He fidgeted with his glasses.
Sofia knew she had about thirteen minutes to kill. The Pfizer burglars had equipped her bikini bottom with a tiny electronic device - if triggered, they'd be alerted. They'd realize Bloom was heading back inside; they'd know to abort and split. If the burglars did not receive every second of the agreed-upon fifteen minutes to search, Sofia would not be paid. For just fifteen minutes of distracting Bloom, Pfizer agreed to pay her ten thousand dollars.
"Well.." She twisted a toe into the ground. "I'll go, but... can I show you something first?" She smoothly removed a photo from behind the material covering the lower portion of her left breast...
"That's me last year," she said. She bit her lower lip. "Do you think I've aged?"
Despite himself, Bloom took the photo. He had an amateur's interest in photography and was naturally curious. He examined it for a moment, then handed it back.
"I like the lighting very much."
Sofia squinted. "The
lighting?"
"You're professionally lit. That makes a difference."
Sofia folded her arms. Her aging question was rhetorical.
That makes a difference? She found herself bothered by his answer. Then she immediately found her reaction to his answer amusing. He wasn't being insulting. He had a simple matter-of-factness, a detached politeness. Something about him was... sweet? Endearing? Something. But who cared? It was all about stalling for fifteen minutes. Still, she hadn't been surprised by a man in a very long time. Men were predictable. It was... different.
She asked a question; surprisingly, more from genuine interest than an interest in stalling.
"Are you married?"
Bloom took a step backward. He scratched his left earlobe and fidgeted with his glasses. "Miss, I don't mean to be uncivilized, but you're uninvited. And that doesn't mean you're not a nice woman, it just means you're not supposed to be on my property. And you should leave. I'm sorry."
Sofia fixed her eyes on him. He wouldn't return the look. "I'll leave," she said, taking one step forward, "if you answer my question."
"You should leave because I
asked you to leave," said Bloom, who took a step back. "That's the nice thing to do."
"Nice?" Sofia took another step forward.
"Nice, yes." Another step back for Bloom.
"I'm not nice," said Sofia. She stretched her arms straight up over her head and tightly clasped her hands. Her breasts squashed together and rolled upward. "I'm naughty."
"You're being rude," said Bloom.
"I want to know if you're married."
"I want your name."
"I want your answer."
Bloom was beside himself. "Please leave," he said. "You don't belong here."
Sofia produced another photo from her left breast...
"Like
that one?"
Bloom glanced at it, then sighed deeply. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. Then he sighed again and spoke.
"I met a girl in high school and I loved her and she got sick and died, and so I'll never marry anyone. I loved
her, and no one else. No one else - not then, not ever. And I'm not even sure if she loved me, but it doesn't matter because I
know I loved her. So I don't see the point in marrying anyone. And your pictures confuse me because I don't understand why a woman with such a lovely face needs to shamelessly draw attention to other parts of her body. That's easy to do, but you should develop yourself and push yourself to be more than what others expect you to be."
High overhead, a robin glided past. Its shadow passed between them. A silence filled that distance for quite some time.
"This... it's not what you think," said Sofia.
"Nothing ever is," said Bloom.
After she left, after the Pfizer burglars got what they came for, after Bloom finally enjoyed his hammock and drink and music, Sofia called Bloom and left a message on his answering machine. She was hoping maybe they could get together for some coffee sometime. He deleted the message, but not unkindly.
