Hostages to Fortune

Empty beer bottles, half-eaten fast-food, and crumpled papers covered the floor of the tiny apartment. Packages of bologna and Miller Light filled a small open refrigerator in the corner of the living room. Magnets held bills to the refrigerator door. "Second Notice of Payment Due," the bills announced, with red magic-marker circles drawn around "Payment Due." On the old green couch, the young man and the girl sitting next to him stared blankly at an old, boxy television. Entertainment news blared out from antique speakers. The picture on the screen began to flash and hiss with static. The girl stepped into the trash on the floor to reposition the rabbit ears antenna.

"They're switching everything over to High Definition soon," the girl said.

"Yeah," the man said. "No more TV."

The girl frowned and sat back down on the couch. They watched the reporter on the television interviewing an actress at a movie premier.

"Look how they sparkle," the girl said.

"What?" the man asked.

"Her diamonds. They shine like tiny suns."

"All that icing on her neck could pay our rent for ten years," the man said.

"Imagine how much they'll sparkle for people with HD," the girl said with a sigh.

The man chewed on his tongue and tossed his empty beer can to the floor. "You want pizza or Chinese tonight?" he asked.

"Pizza."

"I'll call."

"But wait—" the girl said. "We should cut it up into little pieces and use the plastic silverware—you know, the kind that looks like real silver if you squint—and we can clear this little area some." The girl kicked at a pile of trash on the floor. "We should pretend like it's a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant," she said.

"What do you know?" the man asked.

"Know what?"

"You don't know how it is in fancy restaurants."

"But I know how I imagine it to be in fancy restaurants," the girl said smiling.

The man shook his head and pressed the redial button. "We'll have Chinese,"

After picking up an unused diaper from the floor, the girl walked into the kitchen.

"Babe, come here," the man said.

The girl went back into the living room still holding the diaper. She tossed it onto the pile of garbage in the middle of the floor.

"We need to get this over with," the man said.

"Not now." The girl smiled and grabbed his hand.

The man jerked his hand away. "Yes," he said, "We need to do it now."

"I don't think I can."

"We have to."

"But you promised."

"I don't remember making a promise."

"You promised we would check with the agencies first," the girl said.

She poured water from a half empty bottle and scrubbed rapidly over a large dirty spot on the couch. The stain became dark and wet.

"Maybe we should try to manage," the girl said. "Imagine how wonderful it is for people that make it work."

"You don't know any people like that" the man said.

"We should make it work. We can."

"I can't."

The reporter on the television announced an upcoming special about oceanfront houses in Santa Barbara. On the screen, a beige Italian villa sat atop a high bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. For Sale—Great Price, read the sign in front of the home.

The girl looked at the man. "We were going to have all of that," she said.

"We don't even have this!" said the man sweeping his hands around. "Or at least we won't—not until the thing is done."

"Will doing this help us get there?" asked the girl, pointing at the mansion on the television.

"If we don't do it, we don't even have a chance of getting there."

"If we do it, we'll have a chance?"

"Yes."

"No we won't. We'll still be here, doing what we've always done since college."

"I can't force you to do it," the man said, "and I won't do it if you don't agree," he said. "I'll just leave."

"Where?"

"Out West."

"You've always wanted to be there," she said.

"I want to be here, but not like this."

"Imagine how incredible it is there in Santa Barb—"

"All you do is imagine and wonder! What do you know?"

"I know that on the television they show—"

"Always the television!"

The man grabbed a beer bottle from the ground and flung it at the TV. The screen exploded, and shards of shattered glass flew and disappeared into the mess on the floor.

The girl looked at the broken television and sat down on the couch. They sat in silence.

"How do we do it?" the girl finally asked.

"A pillow," the man said." Or a bag. You make the decision."

"A pillow would be softer, yes?"

"It'll hurt either way."

"Can you lie to me?" the girl asked.

"About what?"

"Tell me that it won't hurt."

The man said nothing as he stood up and walked to a room at the far end of the hallway. He tripped over a rattle and entered into the room, slamming the door behind him.

After five minutes, the man rejoined the girl in the living room. He watched the girl pour more water over the stain on the couch.

"I can't get this out," the girl said.

"It's over."

"I keep wiping it and scratching it and scrubbing it—"

"I did it."

"It's permanent I think," the girl said.

A small jagged piece of the shattered television screen broke loose from where it had been hanging and landed on top of an empty bottle of all-purpose cleaner.

"Babe," said the man.

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna get you a high definition TV."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" asked the man. "So you can watch the stars with their ridiculous jewelry and diamond icing that you're always drooling over."

"Only because it sparkled," the girl said.

"It'll sparkle even more on HD."

"It won't."

"Of course it will."

"Not anymore."

The man stood up and looked around the room. He picked up a piece of trash, and then another, and then another, until he was cradling a large pile of garbage in his arms. He dropped what he was holding into a bag and ran around the room picking up more and more. The man cleaned and straightened for hours, until there wasn't a single piece of trash on the living room floor. The man smiled at the girl, who was still sitting motionless.

"Now things are better," the man said.

The girl looked down at the stain on the couch and scratched at it twice.

"Imagine how amazing it would be to have a new leather couch," she said.

"This one's fine," the man said. "We just need to cover it with something,"

"Yes. You're right," said the girl. "We'll cover it. If we cover it everything will be fine—everything will be just fine."