Nikos Petrides

Mr. Steen

Period 5

December 5, 2005

Knicks Tickets

            “I’ll show her,” thought Charlie as he accelerated onto the highway, skidding in and out of each lane, as if driven to put all the cars ahead of him in hindsight. His manner was calm, and his well-defined features appeared almost serene in the glare of the oncoming headlights. Only the reckless abandon of his driving gave away his thoughts.

“She’s doing this to me on purpose,” he complained to himself, as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and slowly forced his foot down on the gas. The exit was approaching and he reached down to fumble with the radio dials, cringing at the static between the classical jazz piece that had been quietly filling the back seat and the classic hits station playing “Love in an Elevator.” He smiled to himself, thinking of how she hated Steven Tyler’s huge mouth.   

Elizabeth Conway sat quietly in the passenger seat with her shoulders back and her hands folded in her lap, her head tilted slightly forward. She didn’t feel comfortable driving fast, but she was trying not to show her fear. Her mind drifted back to that afternoon, when Charlie had furiously dialed Jimmy’s number, only to slam the receiver down in disgust after exchanging only a few words. She had tried to apologize to him, reminding him that there would be games next year, but he wouldn’t have it. He had yelled something like “Not a game seven,” and had flung his Knicks hat down onto the couch. She was shaken from her thoughts by the radio DJ. “And the last one in that set came from Aerosmith, number 43 on our countdown, ‘Love in an Elevator.’” Liz glanced over at her husband. She knew he could feel her eyes on him, yet he didn’t flinch.

She wondered why they had been on the highway for so long, especially the way Charlie was driving.

            “She deserves it,” thought Charlie, as he swerved onto the exit ramp. Even though he had only gone two exits too far, he felt that he had still made his point. “If she wants to ruin my month, the least I can do is make her late for her party,” he reasoned. He pulled into a Sunoco down the road to ask for directions and, as he got out of the car, snuck a glance at his wife. The dim lights of the gas station fell across her face. She was leaning back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest, looking out the window, her lips tightly pursed.

            A half hour later they arrived at the home of Liz’s Boss. She was the personal secretary to the President of Colombia University, and had been invited to his 50^th birthday celebration. Charlie got out and walked around the car to open his wife’s door. He didn’t look at her, and she took no notice of him. As she stood up she threw her scarf over her shoulder, whipping him in the face with the tassels, and strode inside.

            Charlie followed at a safe distance, not wanting to make a scene. As he entered the humble, three story home of their host, he stopped to check his coat. While waiting for his receipt ticket he leaned against the counter and sighed. “Perhaps I overreacted?” he thought. “After all, this party is important to Liz and her work, and I’m sure it would have hurt her if I wasn’t here. But still - its game seven of the NBA finals and my childhood team is playing for the championship!” Charlie snatched his ticket from the attendant and stalked into the main dining room, fuming.

            An hour later, Liz went to the mini-bar for a club soda. Usually Charlie would have fetched her one without her even asking, but tonight she was on her own. She had been trying to avoid him, which had turned out to be a fairly easy task because he had been doing the same. She waited in line and ordered her soda, trying to clear her mind. As she turned around, she was startled to see her husband standing in line behind her. He looked at her, looked at her soda, and then walked past. Elizabeth Conway turned, the scene before her spinning. As she walked away, tears welling in her eyes, she heard Charlie say “Scotch: double on the rocks.”  

            After ordering his drink, Charlie went out onto the back veranda. The cool air was soothing, and he put down his glass. He didn’t drink alcohol, except with his family during the holidays. The only reason he had ordered it was to upset his wife. “What a jerk you are, Charlie” he said to himself. Suddenly he felt selfish and spoiled, like a kid at Christmas who got the wrong model Beebe gun and threw a fit. He began to think of his wife, and what had happened that afternoon.

He had arrived home to find her picking out clothes for the evening’s party, and had asked her what her plans were. She told him that they both would be attending her Boss’ get-together, and that she had given his Knicks tickets to his friend, Jimmy. They hadn’t talked civilly since, and Charlie was ashamed of himself. He picked up his glass and quickly walked back the way he had come.

            Elizabeth sat on a bench under an old oak tree on one of the side lawns. She had been crying for a few minutes when Charlie found her. As she looked through her tears at her husband she didn’t notice the loving look on his face. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and looked more closely. His glass was full, and she smiled.

            Looking down at Liz, Charlie was happy. He had come to realize that what she had done was out of the kindness of her heart, and innocent ignorance. As they walked arm in arm back into the house Charlie smiled. He knew that later on that night, if he told her that the Knicks had won or lost, she would ask him by how many touchdowns, and he would have to explain to her that the Knicks were in fact a basketball team, not a football team.