Two Olives and a Promise

Beth could hear Mrs. Schulman yelling in the stairwell at Mr. Perez. Their argument was about a smell coming from her kitchen sink. Mrs. Schulman lived above Beth, with what seemed like a circus of elephants that took the form of two six-year-old twin boys.

Beth, a young woman with standard brown hair and bright but tired hazel eyes, had been a resident of Riverside Place for just over a year. Her room was nothing special. It was a space Cinderella might have been banished to or a matchbox for a fairy to hide in. The kitchen and bathroom were one and the same, which was confusing to her friends who lived in the Mid-West. She had two small windows, and if it wasn’t for the neighboring building, she’d have ample sunlight and a view of downtown. However, besides her bruised shins, it was still home.

Every morning on her way to work Beth would see Mrs. Derby waiting in the lobby for the mailman. Mrs. Derby, who lived on the ground floor, would insist Beth call her by her first name, Eleanor. This made Beth uncomfortable as a woman of Mrs. Derby’s age would normally demand the respect of a proper title. Each morning Mrs. Derby would stop Beth to ask odd questions.

For example:

“Do you prefer winter or summer?”

“Do you think flowers have feelings?”

“Do you think there will be peace in the Middle East?”

When Beth would answer Mrs. Debry would hum in agreement and scribble in a small slender black notebook, marking the end of their conversation. If you could call it a conversation at all. However, today was different. Mrs. Derby stopped Beth like she always did, but instead of asking a question she bluntly stated Beth was to come over for a ‘light supper’ that evening. Beth stared blankly.

“5:15 pm sharp. See you then dear.” Mrs. Derby said. She shut her notebook and shuffled back to her apartment.

Beth thought about their interaction all day. What were they going to talk about? What was ‘light supper’? Beth was polite but was not accustomed to hanging out with anyone over the age of 25, besides her brash Russian grandmother. A couple of weeks ago Beth heard a rumor from Mrs. Schulman that Mrs. Derby’s family wanted to put her in a care facility. The selfish side of Beth was hoping the rumor was true. Apartments were extremely hard to find and, in this city, any conversation centered around apartments felt like insider trading. When an opportunity presented itself, you had to take it before someone else did. Even though Beth had never seen inside Mrs. Derby’s apartment she knew it had to be bigger than the ten-by-ten cave she was living in now.

Beth returned home early. Her overbearing boss had a “dentist” appointment, which was code for a secret romantic rendezvous with a mystery man she met online. Beth despised her job. She thought if she changed her clothes, cut her hair, joined a spin class the universe would notice and give her a new direction in life. Sadly, none of those things worked and she was running out of options.

Beth knocked nervously on Mrs. Derby’s door while cradling a bottle of butter yellow wine. The door flung open and a hand grabbed Beth dragging her inside. Beth was pulled along a grand hallway with gold-painted walls and into a regal living room with large French doors, leading to a private courtyard. The strong claw-like grip of Mrs. Derby’s hand released as Beth fell onto the sofa.

“Right on time! I’ll be just a moment.” Mrs. Derby said giddily.

Mrs. Derby rushed over to the kitchen. Since Beth had only ever met Mrs. Derby sitting down, she just noticed how short and fragile Mrs. Derby really was. Although her size did not determine her grace as she delivered a tray of drinks. There were two glasses of white wine and a bowl of olives.

Eleanor Derby was a sophisticated woman in her eighties. She had a crown of glowing natural white hair that signaled she was a true blond in her younger years. One could see she took pride in her appearance, even if her makeup was heavily applied. In the warm light, Beth could see smudge marks in Mr. Derby’s blush on the sides of her cheeks which would suggest pulling the skin upward. An action of hidden vanity all women do at some point when looking in the mirror for too long. Mrs. Derby displayed a statement red lip and chalky sea blue eyeshadow. She always wore a coat or sweater, even if like today, it was a humid June evening.

“Cheers dear, thank you for coming", Mrs. Derby said, handing Beth a cocktail napkin and taking a long sip of her drink.

Beth was mesmerized by the tall ceilings, crown modeling, and sparkling chandelier. Beth imagined what it would be like if she owned this apartment. Mrs. Derby was talking and interrupted Beth’s daydream.

“Do you like olives?” Mrs. Derby said.

“No.” Beth said, quickly adding “I’m allergic.”

Beth wasn’t allergic to olives; she simply didn’t like them. She would tell people she was allergic so they wouldn’t force her to try them.

“That’s a shame, you must always have olives for Jeffrey.” Eleanor said.

“Who’s Jeffrey?” Beth asked. She assumed Eleanor lived alone.

“He lives in the tree outside in the courtyard.” Eleanor said casually.

Suddenly a loud rat-tat-tat came from the other side of the room. A large black and white bird impatiently banged its beak against one of the windowpanes. “There he is!” Eleanor said excitedly. She hopped up and took the bowl of olives with her. She glided into the kitchen, opened the window above the sink, and carefully placed two olives on the windowsill.

Beth watched with disgust as the bird flew in and ate the olives. She always thought she was indifferent to birds but seeing one so close made her feel uneasy. All she could think was ‘Gross’.

“Is he a crow?” Beth said, determined to hide her feelings.

“He’s a magpie. They’re loving creatures but bossy too.” Eleanor said softly while stroking Jeffery’s head.

Beth forced a smile. As she turned to pick up her glass, she noticed her napkin had little swallows on it. On the coffee table were matching bird-shaped salt and pepper shakers. Beth’s eyes moved across the room. There were birds everywhere. The pillows had tiny seagull and peacock outlines. One pillow was embroidered “Home Tweet Home”. The lampstand was a carved wooden owl. The paintings had been infected with icons of birds as well. One was of a Victorian-era gentleman with a bold blue and yellow parrot. Another was a Japanese-style scene of twenty cranes dancing in a cherry blossom tree. Multiple screen prints of Jamaican queen-like women, all with cockatoos resting on their headdresses. Porcelain winged figurines were stacked along the shelves; all with the same realistic feature of glaring glass eyes. Beth thought this is what loneliness must do to you.

“Mrs. Derby your family must love visiting? A private courtyard is a rare find!” Beth said eagerly.

“Call me Eleanor, please. My family doesn’t speak to me anymore. We’ve lost touch.” Mrs. Derby said somberly, avoiding Beth’s gaze.

“Your apartment is beautiful, how long have you lived here?” Beth said, wanting to change to the subject.

“Oh, over twenty years now.” Eleanor sighed. “I was in the right place at the right time, I guess. The woman who use to lived here gave it to me. She moved to Florida I believe.”

“Lucky you!” Beth said, taking a large gulp of her drink, trying not to look at her watch.

“And you dear are just as lucky! I have an offer I would like to discuss with you.” Eleanor said sharply. “It is something I have carefully considered. I would like to give you $20,000 for looking ---”

“Yes!” Beth blurted out.

“Well, oh my! Absolutely wonderful.” Eleanor laughed. She thought it would be more difficult to convince Beth to take the money. “There are things we need to iron out, but we can square it away tomorrow. Same time? Do you promise?”

“Yes, yes, of course, yes.” Beth said, she was ecstatic and visibly buzzing. Eleanor and Beth clinked their glasses together. Eleanor quickly downed her drink. Beth knew that was her cue to leave. They exchanged pleasant goodbyes and their evening was over.

The next morning Beth ran into Mrs. Schulman on the stairs. Beth didn’t have time for gossip, but Mrs. Schulman said she saw Eleanor leave late last night with several large suitcases. Beth hurried downstairs. Eleanor was not in the lobby. Beth rapidly knocked on Eleanor’s door. Beth was having trouble containing a mix of enthusiasm and fear. The door slowly inched open. A tall thin man in a gray suit filled the entryway.

“Elizabeth Sokolov?” He said hoarsely. Beth was shocked he knew her name. “Good. Come in.” He turned down the hallway. Beth followed. “Mrs. Debry told me everything. I have the paperwork for you and conditions to go over.” He said dryly.

“Where is Eleanor? Mrs. Derby?” Beth barked.

“She has gone to a better place.” He said bluntly.

“Does that mean she is dead or in Florida?! Who are you?” Beth said alarmed.

“I would rather be dead than live in Florida,” He said smugly, quietly laugh at his sad joke. Beth was still waiting for an answer. “I’m Kurt Stevens. I’m Mrs. Derby’s attorney” he coughed. He gestured to a short stack of papers sitting on the coffee table. Beth let out a sigh of relief. For a moment she thought he was a relative who had come to dissolve Beth’s good fortune. Mr. Stevens shoved a pen in her hand. Beth scribbled her name as if in a race against time. She worried if she wasn’t quick enough the money would turn into a tiny pumpkin seed and be lost forever.

Beth finished signing in a matter of minutes. “Good.” Mr. Stevens puffed. “Now, you will receive the first installment of your $20,000 payment next week in the mail. Per the contract, the money must be accounted for in a ledger and you must provide a detailed account of the birds’ activities, and ---.”

“Wait, I thought all of the money would be available now? Why do I keep track of the birds?” Beth said worryingly.

“No, no, no. This is tradition. Didn’t Mrs. Debry tell you?” Mr. Stevens continued, “You will be caring for the birds. Living here in this apartment. Mrs. Debry chose you. She said you promised.” He handed her a new tightly bound small black leather notebook. Mr. Stevens shook Beth’s hand, congratulated her, and briskly left.

Beth sank into the sofa. Beth didn’t want to admit she had ignored most of what Eleanor said when they met yesterday. What had she done?

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Beth jumped! It was Jeffrey, staring at Beth through the window. Beth tried to ignore him.

Rat-tat-tat! Rat-tat-tat!

Beth scrunched her face with loathing.

As the summer passed, each week Beth received the money in the mail. She resented the birds but did as she promised. Her pride would not let her give up the apartment. Months after the memory of Eleanor Derby faded away, Beth was at the local grocery store. While checking her shopping list in her little black notebook she paused. Everyday Beth was awoken by the birds. At first, she heard them screaming but now she hears them singing. Jeffrey’s constant rat-tat-tat changed from an aggressive demand to a friendly hello. Beth found herself talking to the birds, scribbling in her notebook, waiting in the lobby, but the worst of all: petting Jeffrey. Immediately a quiet dread rushed over her as she realized what she had become.