Kaleidoscope Volume #12. Music | Page 24

Stariy Pedjak Regina Spektor Written by Ohyoon Kwon Illustrated by Seoyeong Heo “Great, it’s raining again”. Reno stood behind the sliding door, looking past his own reflection at the wet parking lot beyond. A portly man in a suit shoved past him, unfolding an umbrella with one hand as he jumped into the rainy fray outside. The door slid open squeakily, and Reno felt the cold blast of wind and wet droplets against his face for the few seconds it took the door to close again. It was getting dark, and the throng of people inside the store was thinning out. Reno didn’t have a car; he had sold it to produce his last film. He did have an umbrella, but he hadn’t brought it. The paper bag that held his groceries wouldn’t survive the 10 minute walk to his apartment. Reno sighed and slid his carton of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. “You shouldn’t be smoking in here.” Reno turned around to see a gray lady carrying a gigantic bag walking towards him. Her black dress seemed to swallow her small frame, and the brown bag covered most of her. Reno lit his cigarette. “I was leaving anyway, lady.” “Don’t lie to me. You’ve been standing there for the past ten minutes.” Reno turned away and blew the smoke out of the side of his mouth. The old lady persisted, “Let me guess, you’re afraid of a little water.” “My groceries are.” “Come on, then. You can hold my umbrella for me.” “That’s very kind of you, ma’am, but I-“ “Oh, hush. I know you don’t have a car. You live in the apartment below me; I know who you are, молодой человек.” The old lady held out an old, faded black cane umbrella toward Reno. He hesitated, then took the unwieldy thing in his hands and opened it. The sliding door opened with a wet squeak once more as Reno walked outside, holding the gigantic umbrella over his head. The ugly thing at least managed to keep the rain out. The droplets pattered against the roof like machine gunfire, but neither Reno nor the lady was fazed in the slightest. They reached an old, charming dame of a car, and Reno spit the cigarette out of his mouth. It landed on the asphalt, sizzling out, and thirstily drank up the water on the ground, becoming little more than a sopping sponge for the constant torrent that descended from the dark blue sky above. Reno grunted and opened the driver side door, and the madam slid in gracefully, handing him her abundant groceries. “Put it in the trunk.” Reno opened his mouth, but thought better of it and walked round back and pulled the trunk open. Inside were some empty cloth bags, an old tennis racket, and some books. Reno put both bags, his small one and her enormous one, in the corner, padding it with the cloth bags. 22