By
David Marcus Karp
“I don't believe in accidents. There are only
encounters in history. There are no accidents.”
-Pablo Picasso
I
knew the first time I ever laid my eyes on Spunky that she was the perfect girl
for me.
That
day is still as clear to me as every yesterday is. Let me paint the picture for
you.
I
was walking down one of the plain blue and white corridors of the Metropolitan
Art Gallery, lit by bright florescent lighting. Windows were scattered here and
there, allowing me glimpses of the busy city outside. The old, dark brown
wooden floor creaked with every step I took. All seemed calm and normal around
me. It was just me and my best friend, Jimmy, who was, at the time, interning
there at the Gallery. It was a gig he got when we both got out of art school
two seemingly long years ago.
I had just got out of a meeting with Gil Clayton, a
potential sponsor of my work. He was one of the heads of the gallery and, with
that, Jimmy’s boss. During the meeting, Clayton seemed really intrigued with
the pieces I showed him, along with the things Jimmy had said about me to even
get an interview. At the end of the meeting, I was invited to a gala that was
taking place that night for some other new artist, and he insisted I should
come so we could “discuss a few possibilities”. After a long, nerve wreaking
meeting, these were positive words to hear and it made me feel like I was
getting a chance to go somewhere with my art.
So,
the meeting ended on a good note. I told him I’d try my hardest to make it to
the gala and then, a minute later, I was on my way back home to relax, eat
lunch and return to my latest painting venture.
We were about to turn the corner to a staircase that
would bring us to the street exit, when I saw her.
Her tight, denim pants matched her beautiful, dark red
hair in color, with a black and white striped belt to hold them to her petite
body. She was short, irresistibly cute, and had a smile that would make even
the coldest person light up. Her eyes also had a sort of smile to them, and
when you looked into them, they made you glow and hoisted you up into the
clouds. She had a long, black overcoat on, covering a white shirt which housed
a peace symbol on the front of it, with the word “love” written in black below.
I felt my eyes widen as I caught sight of her, and it
made me wonder if she noticed my sudden, shock-filled glance, as she looked
back at me and it made my heart feel like it had frozen in time. I felt a bit
foolish, but sometimes when you’re stuck in that kind of shock that penetrates
the heart and the mind in unison, you lose control of everything for a minute
without realizing it until the moment is far from passed.
Anyway, I was stuck looking at her for a second or two
before getting control back of my thoughts. When I did, I quickly turned and
went down the staircase, a bit red from embarrassment, to the street exit,
catching up the little distance to Jimmy. I could hear her talking to her
friend as they walked behind us. Her voice was high, but not squeaky. It had a
bounce.
We walked out the door and onto the street. We were
greeted by a beautiful day, with the sun beating down from a cloudless blue sky
and there, surrounding us, was the pleasant, cool autumn wind, hinting that
winter was not very far away.
She walked parallel to Jimmy and I for a minute. Her
voice seemed at ease as she talked to her friend, a slightly taller blonde
girl, about something she seemed excited about. I didn’t catch what it was, but
it made her voice glow a bit more, whatever it was. She seemed to be in a happy
mood. I waited until she walked a little bit past us, and then I turned to
Jimmy.
“Why can’t I meet someone like that?” I said.
“Huh?”
“Why can’t I meet someone like her?”
“Like who?”
I softly gestured to her. “Like her!”
“Who is she?”
“I wish I knew, that’s what I’m saying!”
“You don’t know who she is?”
“No, I just noticed her when we were walking out of the
gallery.”
Jimmy gave out a bit of a cackle.
“I can tell,” I said, “She just seems like the kind of
girl I would fall for, you know? I mean, she’s cute, sounds like a nice person,
likes black, seems happy, and seems…spunky. She might be…I don’t know…like… the
girl of my dreams. I can always tell these things.”
To tell the truth, I could never really tell those kinds
of things, and who knew what she was really like if you got to know her. Hell,
I DIDN’T know her. But, still, she seemed to have this kind of positive vibe to
her, and it was certainly uplifting.
“Go right now, Seth. Catch up to her and say something!”
Jimmy suggested, giving me a little push and then laughing.
“Funny.” I said. It would have been a different story if
we were stuck in an elevator together or in the same waiting room together. Maybe,
then, it would seem more logical to me, and I would get the balls to talk to
her. But no. Not now. She was a random
person on the street who I just found beautiful and interesting from afar.
Running up to her was probably not the greatest idea in the world.
Jimmy teased me for the rest of the walk home, and as we
made our way down the street, the beautiful girl was turning into a distant
sight, walking off into the sunlight that was reflected on city windows.
“I really like that word… spunky.” I said to Jimmy.
“Yeah, it’s a fun word."
“Spunky.” I repeated.
That is the moment I dubbed her the name Spunky. It fit
and Jimmy found the infatuation amusing to say the least. I had no idea what
her real name was, and was never sure if I’d ever find out but, nevertheless,
she seemed spunky. I liked spunky. I deemed her the name Spunky.
Then we turned the corner, and she was out of my sight
and into my memory. That was it; like that she was gone, and life kept on going.
We walked home and made some lunch.
(SEE YOU NEXT TIME FOR PART 2!)
