Pomeranian Jazz

It was like a welcome stranger trespassing, bringing the enlightenment one seeks, although its presence was both familiar and unfamiliar. The sunlight, bent itself exquisitely, leaking through the tiny nano-crevices of closed blinds. Sunlight emerged onto Melody’s sleeping eyes and streamed down her face, warming. She much preferred West-facing windows, but a corner unit appeared during her market watch. She opted into a higher cost of living, in the sky. She never got around to ordering those black outs.

“You are charismatic”, “You are thankful”, “You can finish YOUR BOOK!” Words of affirmation were scribbled on notes and stuck to the wall above her nightstand.

She yawned, her entire body stretched like a cat, spanning the length of the bed. The sun ducked behind some clouds producing a moody sky, signaling a dark, unproductive day ahead. Her routine was, wake up consistently very early, every day. She performed bathroom sink rituals for more affirmation posts stuck to the vanity, looking down to admire her tenacity. Next was hydrate, stretch, then cat nap until 7AM. By 8AM, she was whole after soft sun salutations, light yoga, a shower, morning face mask, lemon water then a green tea. Fresh candles burned with provocative scents.

By 9AM, she was fresh, basking in her splendour like it was the first time she catered to before stepping out into the world. She adored her shoebox in the sky, complete with a lobby concierge that acknowledged her whenever she passed. She knew their names and shifts. She always avoided the awkward one, James. His tight slicked back ponytail and 5’oclock shadow. Always talking like he was sliding in your DMs, and quite overconfident, although very good at his job. He was always writing in that little black book, a lefty. Always looking at her with a vague stare, while writing in his notebook. She quivered at the thought.

Picking up her tote and a ginger shot, she slid her coat on one arm, then the other while grabbing a small protein smoothie she pre-made the night before. Just enough to get her equilibrium going, while she waited for Keto breakfast hour at ELT’s, 3 blocks away. It was an expensive habit, but she told herself that it was a reward. Using the reinforcement principle kept her accountable while being an ambitious freelance writer, from the neighborhood café office.

She rode the elevator alone from the 17th floor. She felt her privilege, not partaking in the morning rush. The scurrying around, an over-crowded lobby, a jammed parking garage and crazy busy streets did not interest her. She loved her freelance lifestyle and her solace. The elevator door opened, and a white Pomeranian dashed in jumping towards her, taught on a leash. She jumped back and angrily stared at the human holding the leash.

“Cuddles! Off!” The owner gave a light tug.

Melody exaggeratedly took a giant step over tiny Cuddles, gripping her coat tightly at the neck with both hands as she exited. “Adorable dog.” She thought.

“Morning Miss Melody!” Harry smiled the words out.

“Morning Mister Sunshine!” She beamed back.

“Well, you are the one who brought the sunshine out today!” Harry laughed and pointed outside. The sun was back.

Harry was kind and played by the book at all times. He was always 7 minutes early for his shift with his game face on. He knew where everything was, knew everyone by full names and he recognized faces very well. Once, he made her ex wait in the lobby for 30 minutes, while she was charging her phone on airplane mode.

“Miss Melody, I have no mail for you, but don’t worry, I got you. You’ll know when it arrives.” He mentioned this every day of the week thus far. She inquired once with Harry about the incoming package from a publisher, and that it was important mail. She was trying to land a book deal for her children’s book. She was still looking for an illustrator. Harry was really good at his job and he kept matters like these confidential.

“Thanks Harry! Have a great morning!” She knew she would see him within a couple of hours, since she detested public restrooms and ELT’s was close by.

“Have a good one now.” He already had the automatic doors swinging open for her smooth exit. She gingerly stepped out into the streets, the sun beaming on her face. It was here to stay.

45 minutes later, she was heading back home. Not only did she forget her tablet charger but forgot to charge it overnight too. However, she would not let a mishap like that interrupt her Keto breakfast. She wasn’t about to miss getting her loyalty cart stamped either, today was the 10th stamp.

As she approached her building entrance, she noticed slightly the lobby doors weren’t opening for her. She was distracted by something resting snug between where a giant planter stood, and a giant pane of glass met the concrete floor. It looked familiar. Inching closer inconspicuously and inspecting further, she instantly identified James’ little black book.

“That’s strange.” She thought as she picked up the book, tattered and worn in close sight. She was about to open it up but as she cased the scene, while looking up she could see James through the glass, frantically moving about behind the desk. Guilt-free, she tucked the little black book in her right pocket, taking out her keyless entry remote with her left hand, and let herself in.

A panic-struck Harry bolted out of the employee room, blurting out as he passed, “Good day Miss Melody. Something came up. Good on ya James, three hours early in my time of need. Bless you son.” Harry patted James on the back, perfectly placed a fedora hat on his head, and exited.

There was an awkward silence. James couldn’t stop fidgeting; he was frantically looking everywhere. He was pulling all of the drawers and scanning entire surfaces. He even looked at the ceiling. He patted himself down three times over. He still had not removed his coat.

“M-morning Miss Parker.” He said in a professional manner but lost in thought. He seemed very uncomfortable. A remorseful sense of accountability started to fill up her chest cavity. She could not muster up any words. The elevator chimed.

“Good morning!” She blurted out and ran for the elevator in a mad rush.

“W-wait Miss Parker! Mail f-for you!” She almost crashed into someone stepping out of the elevator as she shuffled back around in a flash. She frantically paced 10 steps back, the package was sitting atop the concierge desk.

“Thank you, finally!” She grabbed the mailer and with all possible haste, darted back to the elevator. She missed it and punched the button. Sheepishly, she turned around to see that James had already put up the ‘back in 5 minutes’ sign, eyeing the front door. He was politely waiting for her to get on her ride up and hoped that nobody came out. The door opened.

Melody rode the elevator up to the 17th floor. This time she was not alone, she was with her guilt and her excitement. She felt bad for a second, then she glanced down at the envelope. She shook it up and down for weight. She expected a bigger package. Several publishers mentioned they would send along introductory documents and supplemental material outlining a potential partnership deal. The package was certainly light in that regard.

She burst into her unit, throwing off her coat, the envelope went down with it. She set her bag down on the chair by the door and ran to the bathroom. She washed her hands and face and used her facilities in comfort and cleanliness. She had completely forgotten about James’ little black book. She went over to the shelf, fingered through a stack of records and pulled one out. Smiling, she slid the black disk out of the jacket. It made a whoosh sound. In one elegant gesture, she lifted the dust cover off of her vintage turntable, centered the hole of the donut onto the platter and punched the power button on the receiver. The turntable powered on automatically as soon as she lifted the needle. The crackle of the dust in the grooves immediately calmed her. McCoy Tyner started to play. She lit a candle and walked over to pick up the envelope.

She ripped it open to find a folded two-page letter on a colorful letterhead. In big bold letters it began: “CONGRATULATIONS MELODY PARKER. WELCOME TO THE TINY BOOK HOUSE FAMILY! (IF YOU WAN’T IT)”.

Her fingers started tingling. Then, she couldn’t feel her hands. With so much excitement she scanned over the page and quickly turned to page two. Just then, a smaller piece of paper jumped out. It twirled around and danced to the floor. Flurrying away, it swayed and sifted underneath the kitchen island. “Great.” She grabbed a spatula, grunted and got down on the floor. She fished out a rectangular, familiar looking blank piece of paper. It had a line for a signature and a box with some words on it. She flipped it around. It was a cheque made out in her name. Her stomach started to turn; it was made out for $20,000.00. The memo field read ‘PUBLISHING ADVANCE’. She started to cry tears of joy.

She suddenly was alarmed and immediately thought of James’ little black book. She picked her coat up off of the floor, put it on and ran to the elevator before the door to her unit even closed.

James’ face was down and out as she approached the desk. He didn’t even light up like usual, when he saw her. Sheepishly, she pulled the little black book out of her pocket. “Hey James, I’m sorry... But I found this on my way in, I think it might belong to you?” He gasped.

“My book!” He jumped up out of his seat. “Oh my, thank you Miss Parker! Thank you!” Suddenly she saw James differently. He seemed more compassionate. His calling out, his desperation. But why didn’t she look in the book? She was so close to knowing what James was doing in that book. If only she had looked, now she may never know.

“What’s in there anyway, James?” She asked, disguising her intrigue with a laugh, a friendly joke.

James beamed, handing her the book. “Take a look!”

She opened it up to a wonderfully uniquely styled sketch of a Pomeranian. It was colorful, pompous and adorable, and looked like it would jump all over you. “Spot on.” She said laughing. She kept exploring. There were gorgeous sketches of fruit: an avocado, oranges and bananas. Good sketches too, in great detail. There was a caricature portrait, right away she could tell it was of Harry in his fedora hat.

Turning the page, she froze. It was a sketch of herself. At first, she felt violated, but there was something charming about it, and it was not the fact that the sketch was of her. The expression was honest, the detail, incredible. She turned the page and there was another sketch of her. She kept turning, more sketches of her between drawings of some other human faces, animals and edible inanimate objects. She blushed.

“M-my apology Miss Parker.” James said timidly, his voice cracking. A tear ran down his cheek. Five seconds of silence seemed like an hour. “I-I had someone close to me, n-named Melody.” He held back his tears and corrected his posture. “You are really fun to draw. You remind me of my friend. I-I don’t mean to be rude, respectfully, you are a really nice person.”

It made sense now. “No, this is great stuff, James. So unique and colorful. I love the textures. Great work.” She handed James back his little black book. She paused pensively, then asked, “What other types of things do you draw?” James smiled.