Page 40 of Summer of '69
Kirby’s heart fills like a hot-air balloon. “Hey, you!” she says.
“Day off,” he says. “I thought you might want to ride the carousel.”
“I’d love it,” Kirby says. She turns to wave at the girls who are loitering at the top of the stairs like they’re watchingGuess Who’s Coming to Dinner.“See ya, ladies!”
As rotten, terrible luck would have it, they bump into Evan outside on the sidewalk; he’s holding a huge rectangular box that Kirby can see is an air-conditioning unit.
“Is that for my room?” she asks hopefully.
“It’s supposed to be.” Evan grunts and drops the box onto the top step with a thud.
Air-conditioning is more than Kirby could have hoped for. “Evan, I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea what it’s like up there. I’ve been stewing in my own juices.” She chastises herself for using that gross phrase in front of two gentlemen. Her mother would be appalled. “I’m very grateful.”
Evan pulls a handkerchief out of his pants pocket and mops his brow. “I don’t know how I’m going to get it all the way up to the attic.”
“I’ve got it, man,” Darren says, stepping up.
“Darren?” Evan says, blinking behind his square glasses. “Darren Frazier? Where did you come from?”
Darren has, of course, been standing there all along. How did Evan not notice him? Was Ralph Ellison right—were Negro meninvisibleto white people? It had seemed like hyperbole when Kirby read the book for her English class, but now that she’s watching a real-life social interaction, she’s not so sure.
Darren lifts the box with ease. “Fresh arms,” he says, and Kirby thinks of how other guys might have flaunted their superior strength and stamina but Darren tries to downplay it. “We’re going to the attic?”
“The attic,” Kirby confirms.
Evan follows close on Darren’s heels up the two flights of stairs and, realizing he’s been shown up, offers to take the box back twice.
“I’ve got it,” Darren says. He’s not huffing or sweating and his biceps pop in a way that is undeniably attractive. Kirby brings up the rear, which means Evan can’t look up her dress. Darren is proving to be a hero for so many reasons.
Kirby opens the door to the attic, and the hot, stale air nearly knocks her over. It’s like having a damp mohair blanket thrown over her head. It’s suffocating.
“Right on,” Darren says. “I now understand the importance of this mission. You’ve beenlivingup here?”
“I had a fan, but it broke,” Kirby says. She scans the room for any embarrassing personal items; if she’d known she would be having guests, and if she’d known one of those guests would beDarren,she might have staged the room a little better—hidden the box of Kotex, for example, and maybe draped a bikini top over the back of her chair. Maybe set her paperback copy ofInvisible Manon her nightstand. Earlier, she’d pulled a copy of Emily Post off the bookshelves at the hotel, thinking it would help her with her job, and she hopes Darren doesn’t notice it splayed open on her bed; it seems hopelessly square.
Darren sets down the box, removes the air conditioner from the Styrofoam packing, then surveys the sole window. “Should fit?” he says. He looks to Evan, who shrugs, and Kirby’s hopes sink because she’s certain Evan didn’t bother to measure the window, so her dream of air-conditioning is short-lived. Darren sets the unit in the window; there are a couple of inches on each side.
Darren turns to Kirby. “Do you have a couple of books?”
This is Kirby’s chance! She rummages through an old attaché case of her father’s that she uses for her schoolwork. She brought six books for recreational reading but hasn’t yet cracked one. She picks two that she thinks will make her seem erudite and well-read—The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie,by Muriel Spark, andThe Ginger Man,by J. P. Donleavy.
Darren accepts them and holds upThe Ginger Man. “Loved this one,” he says. “I loved it so much it seems a shame to use it for this purpose, but this is just temporary. I have a couple of two-by-fours in my garage that I can cut down to fit in the gaps.”
Kirby glances at Evan to see if he is hearing all this. Darren reads literatureandhe can cut down some two-by-fours to fit in the gaps of the window that Evan neglected to measure. Evan is standing back with his arms locked across his chest, glaring down at Darren. He isn’t even pretending to help anymore. Kirby is annoyed, but a second later, the air conditioner is installed. Darren plugs it in and turns it on. Kirby stands before the blast of deliciously cold air and closes her eyes.
“It’s heavenly,” she says.
“You’re welcome,” Evan says. “Please don’t make a big deal about it because I can’t afford air-conditioning for anyone else. It’s just that…itdoesget really hot up here.”
“Thank you,” Kirby says.
“Thank you,” Kirby says to Darren once they’re back down on the street.
“Evan boughtyouan air conditioner because he likes you,” Darren says. “It’s a twenty-six-pound love letter.”
“Please stop,” Kirby says. “I feel like I have to apologize for Evan. He just stood back and let you do all the work.”
Darren shrugs. “I offered. I wanted to impress you.”
