The Other Man
by Philippe-Edner Marius
Aliennaire was sitting in the darkness of his car, in the shadow of night, waiting to see who his girlfriend was dating. He had been gazing into the rear-view mirror since six, monitoring the world behind him. His eyes were on the red door of the brownstone apartment where Marie was living. People had come and gone. But they had all been familiar. He was now waiting for a stranger, a face he had never seen before.
He and Marie had made policy: each could see other people; and who and when would remain secret, so as to minimize jealousy. In bed, their relationship had soured. Marie had grown tired of his shortcomings, and had started criticizing: “You're not doing it right.” Aliennaire had become annoyed. With this agreement, both could justify satisfaction from elsewhere.
That was months ago. Aliennaire had found Destina, but only for a short time. Marie also had found some else, but refused telling Aliennaire, when he asked. She would keep reminding him of their little agreement.
Now, Alienaire had gotten jealous of this other man, who was keeping Marie up all night, on the phone, laughing. He wanted to know once and for all who that man was. Drunk with jealousy and anxiety,he would soon know the truth.
A dark man, wearing a black fedora, appeared at the corner. Aliennaire was distracted from his thoughts, as he watched the man come down the block, hop up the steps and was buzzed into the brownstone. It was hard identifying him, because his coat hid his mouth, and his hat covered his eyes.
Aliennaire had never seen a black man in the neighborhood, and certainly never in Marie's building. He had an impulse to jump out the car. But at the same time, it came to him, that there was nothing wrong. If that was the man, what could be done about it? Marie was not cheating. If anything, it was he, Aliennaire, who was cheating. It was he who was undermining their law, their agreement.
Realizing this, he calmed down, sighed, and downed another can of Budweiser, and shut his eyes to rest his head.
He had no ground to get out his car, no reason to be upset, to accuse anyone of anything. At least not yet.
Minutes later, when Aliennaire reopened his eyes, an officer was standing right outside, head bowed, hands scribbling into a notepad: a ticket.
Aliennare lowered his window. “I was just leaving, Officer.” He didn't know why he was defending himself.
The officer jumped, not aware there was a man in the car. He responded: “There's nothing I can do.”
“Please...I've already got a bill sir, I can't afford...”
The officer went on writing.
“What's this for anyway, man?”
The officer pointed up with his pen to an object above the car. Aliennaire couldn't see it. The roof was in his way. When he turned his head he only saw a green pole, standing outside. He had to bend over the beer cans on the passenger seat, to notice a sign up so high. It criminalized parking past 12:00 on Sunday morning. Alieannaire then realized his car was the only one parked in the street. He returned to the officer:
“I actually didn't know this.”
The officer still writing, replied: “The law is the law, kid.”
Aliennaire yelled, out of frustration: “Fuck!”
“Take it easy.”
“You take it easy, man!”
The officer warned him again, as he came closer to Aliennaire's window. Aliennaire closed the window to avoid the office. It's then that the officer noticed yet another problem, and signaled for Aliennaire to again lower his window.
Aliennaire obliged, then apologized.
The officer, didn't respond, but instead said, “Sir, would you mind exiting the car?”
“On what grounds?”
The officer remained silent to him, but murmured something into his chest. The officer, then, pulled out a photo, glanced at it and then at Aliennaire, then at the photo again.
A minute later, two other officers arrived at the scene, their car-sirens loud, waking up the neighborhood.
Aliennaire was afraid Marie might come to her window and catch him red-handed.
He was ordered out the car once again. He got out. The officers surrounded the picture, which Aliennaire saw was of a black boy. They kept looking up at Aliennaire and back at the photograph.
After a minute, one of them said: “Not him.”
The two officers left. The first officer finished writing out the ticket, and handed it to Aliennaire.
Aliennaire noticed people had been watching from their windows. Some had come out on their stoops. Aliennaire used the corner of his vision to spot two heads behind Marie's window.
He was embarrassed, and was about to get in his car when suddenly he heard: “Aliennaire.”
It was Marie's voice.
He turned to face her window. One of the heads disappeared. Seconds later, Marie, in her pajamas, ran out into the cold. She was happy to see him, and asked what he was doing there. “It's Saturday,” she said.
“I came to see you.” Just then, tears came down his face, and he wrapped his arms around Marie. “I love you so much,” he told her. “Who's that guy upstairs?”
“Baby, that's Tommie,” she said, softly. She sighed, and said: “Is that why...”
“I don't want to do this anymore.” Aliennaire confessed.
“We don't have to.”
“I'm drunk....I love you...”
Marie laughed, “I see.” She extended her leg to shut the car door. “Let's go inside.”
“It's embarrassing.”
“It's not.”
Just then, another woman stepped out of the building and walked across the street towards them. “Everything okay?” she asked.
Aliennaire opened his eyes, and saw her, white and pale under the moonlight.
Marie unwrapped her arms, and introduced Aliennaire to the woman: they shook hands.
“Tammie,” said the woman, introducing herself.
Aliennaire immediately noticed the fedora on Tammie's head.
He couldn't help it.
He started giggling.
“What's the problem?” asked Marie.
Aliennaire couldn't respond: he couldn't stop laughing at himself.
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